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CHAPTER 1 Cheyenne opened the door and slipped outside, pausing when she took in the threatening clouds. Although it was early evening, the sky was dismally gray and cloaked with a veil of heavy vapor. Crimson streaks stained the hazy billows as if the asphyxiated sun struggled to break free of its smothering shroud.
Odd. She wrinkled her nose and squinted as she stared up at the scarlet splash. Probably just rain. Unconcerned, she shrugged and started down the stairs to her car.
During her short drive home, the sky grew alarmingly bleak. Cheyenne peered out her windshield, staring up at the gloomy fog and praying the weather held out a few more blocks. Even though she didn't live very far from work, it looked as though a heavy storm was about to break, and she wanted to be somewhere safe before it hit.
"Tornado season," she groaned. It was the only time of the year she hated sleeping alone. Aimee, her roommate, would probably be out all night; and Milo, her worthless cat, would no doubt be of little protection. She'd likely vanish after the first crack of lightening, disappearing into one of her many inconspicuous hiding spots, not to be seen again until the ferocious storm had ended.
Cheyenne giggled as she thought about the first time she'd come across one of Milo's covert locations. She'd been hunting through the closet in search of a favorite pair of pants when she'd noticed two glowing orbs staring back out at her from beneath a mountainous pile of clean clothes. She'd shrieked in alarm, sending an equally stunned Milo tearing out of the closet like a bat out of hell. Cheyenne laughed again. She loved that crazy cat.
As she turned into the parking lot and pulled into her designated spot, she noticed the trees swayed back and forth, as if caressed by a giant invisible hand. She stared, fascinated when several leaves tore free of their mother's limb and merrily danced about in erratic motion as though mocking their grounded parent who could do no more than wave her fists and thrash in place.
Mentally shaking herself free of the brief trance, Cheyenne killed the Mustang's engine and reached for the handle. Newspaper, Styrofoam cups, and other bits of debris swirled about her feet in a frantic zephyr. Her long, black hair whipped around her face, smacking her forehead and stinging her cheeks. Irritated, she pulled the defiant wisps out of her eyes and reached into the back seat for her purse.
The sky exploded with white light, bathing her surroundings in a brilliant, crystal-like gleam. Cheyenne screamed and pulled her arm out of the car just as the wind slammed the door shut. A frigid gust plastered her against the cold metal like a decorative hood ornament.
A thunderous blast roared through her ears. She muffled them with her palms, but the noise persisted. It crept between her cupped fingers and bellowed through her brain, loud and foudroyant, like the beating of a massive bass drum.
Cheyenne pushed herself away from the car and ran toward her apartment. But the wind shoved her forward, sending her sprawling face-first onto the ground. Her head smacked the concrete and a burst of glittering sparklers flitted through her swooning brain.
Darkness encroached upon the borders of reality as her eyelids began to droop. Unconsciousness seemed like a welcome friend. Fighting to stay alert, she shrugged off her stupor and struggled to get up.
The pavement was jagged and littered with broken glass. Its sharp edges punctured the palms of her hands as she pushed herself to her knees. Crying out in pain when a glossy shard sliced through her tender flesh like soft butter, she rocked back on her heels and cradled her injury.
With a trembling hand, she shielded her eyes and stared up at the hostile sky. Terror filled her throat with bitter bile as she watched the darkening clouds swirl into a foreboding eddy with sparks of electricity shooting from its core like deadly arrows.
Huge bolts of lightning seemingly played tag as they jumped from one billow to another. Each blazing dagger radiated from a central point, extended outward, and cut the heavens into jagged pieces of an enormous pie.
Cheyenne's head throbbed with every pulse and her ears howled as if wild animals raced through her skull. The light was disorienting, making her nauseous and weak. Wrestling with incoherence, she pitched forward onto her hands, ignoring the painful sting on her palms when they slapped the asphalt.
Her mind began spinning as her surroundings slowly faded into a racing blur of melted colors. The air around her culminated into an awesome vortex of gyrating motion. And she was the only thing grounded within the eye of this terrifying display of churning activity.
Just when she thought she'd be sucked into the belly of this raging vacuum, everything suddenly stopped. The wind no longer ripped at her hair or screamed in her ears. It was now a gentle roll of ocean waves lapping against the shore, its soothing caress skillfully drawing her into a state of disoriented bliss.
And the lightning no longer danced from one place to another, blinding her with its white-hot fury, but rather drew itself out in one long fractured line that traced the distant horizon. It faded in and out, like the blinking of an old fluorescent bulb on the verge of expiration.
Cheyenne staggered to her feet. Slowly, she turned around in a complete circle, dazed and confused. The line of light stretched as far as she could see. There was no beginning, no end. It was as if the world had been cut in two–the Earth separated from its heaven by this strange electric band.
Squinting with forced concentration, she focused on a section of light directly in front of her. It's closing! She watched with stunned curiosity as it began to contract.
Copyright © 2004 by Shannon Leigh
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