The History Book Club discussion

This is a thread where as a group we will work on the next best seller novel (the sky is the limit). (smile)

However, each one of us can only add three sentences to the post that came before.

We post our three sentences and then the next group member/poster writes the next three sentences and so on.

So let the story begin.

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing and the hail was banging the windows. And all of a sudden my dog brought me his leash, nudging me on the arm that he had to go out.

As I opened the door, the dog leaped out into the stormy night eager to get to his usual haunts when he stopped short and seemed to sense something unusual. Tucking at my hood because the weather was cold, we walked down the driveway. A light went on in the house next door as we passed by on our usual route.

It was the type of night that people typically saw in drive-in horror films and cheap dime novels. Fairly untypical weather, however, for the peaceful beachfront community that my new bride, faithful terrier and I had moved to after deciding to leave the hustle and bustle of the big city behind. What I saw in the next lightning burst was also something I thought I had left behind in the past.

Much to my astonishment my faithful companion seemed to want to go towards the outline of something that lay ahead. The lightning had lit up the sky like a battlefield in Iraq. Those days in the desert had never left my side.

My mind wanders back to the Middle East and the sands of Iraq. It seems like yesterday that I was there with my division. All of a sudden I am jolted back to reality by my terrier - Buzzie.

By the way we are not trying to be Hemingway here - not that anybody would mistake this for him (smile) - just join in and have fun.

Years of listening to Buzzie had alerted me to the different sounds she could make when excited, frightened or just plain inquisitive. I thought I knew all her sounds by now. But this was different - a deep, guttural growl that started in her stomach and exited by her ears.

The growl was low pitched with a hiss thrown in for good measure making my sweet dog sound like a wild African tiger ready to pounce. Buzzie though a small sweet dog sounded vicious and as scared as he was - I was becoming a bit timid myself. I looked around to see if I could call out to anybody in one of the driveways - but I realized that aside from Buzzie - we were alone in the darkness - or so I thought.

Well back to the story - it would be fun if a whole bunch of folks just typed whatever came to mind to keep the story going.

Buzzie always knew when he was not alone - and yet what we both saw or thought we saw seemed an apparition. I was shivering from the cold and hail and Buzzie seemed be backing away from going any closer and was turning back to the house. I thought I saw in the distance something liveless being dragged along the beach.

In the distance , I could make out what seemed to be two individuals who were standing over something inert on the sand. There seemed to be in the distance a boat idling. Buzzie was on high alert now and pullling me in the direction of our home.

Trying to look back while Buzzie pulled his leash moving me towards the house, I still sensed fear. Buzzie was quiet but on a mission to get me to safety. Thankfully the wind was blowing and silenced any noise we made walking towards my home.

Hail stings my face. It ricochets across the sandy ground. It whines like bullets around me and I know again that cold clamminess of fear which once was part of our daily ritual in the desert.

As we returned past the house next door, the light flicked off. Instinctively, I glanced back to the beach. All I could see was a indistinct shape which seemed to be fleeing through the waves.

Who or what were those indistinct shapes and shadows? What were they dragging and what was in the water? Buzzie wanted no part of this and was making guttural sounds when I would have preferred that he was silent. I did not want to cause any attention to the two of us - alone watching.

The front door shuts behind me. I do not turn on the lights. I stand in the darkness and watch the beach. I can never be sure that what I see is reality. My mind plays tricks. Samantha will be home soon. Or at least I think she will.

I wait in the darkness so that my eyes can get used to the dim glow from outside through my windows and I hold my breath and then release it slowly in order to not make a single sound. What should I do next - I ask myself "silently"?

The phone rings. I do not answer it. I am afraid that if I answer it - someone would know I was home and I want to remain for now hidden by the darkness.

Folks try to continue the story.

The phone rings again. Buzzie whimpers. This time I pick it up.

Buzzie was afraid. But so was I. There was silence on the line.

It is the same silence that follows an explosion. A deafening, ear-ringing quiet before the screams begin. I shudder.

There was a chill in the air. Buzzie perked up with his ears back and looked frozen in place. I saw a beam of light like a flashlight ahead.

The smell of dust and debris is in my nose and mouth. I focus on the beam of light. I push the other unwanted images from my mind.

I watch as the beam of light traces around the room and then settles on Buzzie who is now facing towards the owner of the torch, standing her ground, barking furiously. A sound, like the crack of a whip, breaks the air and a short yelp is forced from my faithful companion, whose small body slumps to the ground. Not knowing the number of my adversaries, I run through the kitchen, grabbing my wife's carving knife, 'Old Reliable', from the rack and head out through the back door.

Poor Buzzie. Was he hit or just stunned. No time to linger as I run through the woods with Old Reliable.

A tree root catches me; I tumble to the ground. The images in my mind are now swamping me. The noise; the shrieks; the smell of death. I cling to the present. I feel the softness of the ground; smell the distinctive odour of the swamp; hear the croaking of the frogs. A sinister slithering sound is near my face. The creature moves away; I breathe more easily.