Welcome to Amelia, an area of land that's filled with
the creatures from your darkest nightmares. In this first visit, a
homeless man finds himself up against a creature determined to kill him
and his fellow street people. This release includes ROADMAP TO AMELIA, an introduction to the series by the author.
David Engle burst through the eastern doors of the abandoned high school
like a maelstrom. I can’t run from it forever, he thought. And if I
escape, it’ll kill the others.
A homeless vagabond for several years, David belonged to a pleasant
family-like cadre known as ‘The Forgotten Ones’ in Amelia City. His
attire was that of the standard American bum, which included a tattered
old pair of jeans, a worn chambray shirt, cast-off boots and, of course,
an Army surplus field jacket. His odor matched that of a cat lady’s
apartment. The loudest sounds in his ears were of his own pounding
heart, and the splash of his feet as he ran along a floor covered in
water dribbling through a damaged roof.
And what was he doing, this curious fellow? He was running for life and
limb from the Beast. No living thing David had ever encountered could
completely and effortlessly rip a human being’s head off. Twenty minutes
before in a seldom-used subway terminal, he had seen the creature do
just that to an unsuspecting civilian. David had noticed the rise in
disappearances of his kinsmen, as well as the discovery of some of their
bodies. Now he knew why.
David stumbled over a pile of old textbooks, discarded relics never
properly disposed of in the times when people still attended classes in
the school. He caught himself, his tattered boots scrambling for
purchase on the wet floor. The school’s roof hadn’t kept the rain out
for months now, and the stench of wood rot, mildew and other forms of
decay wafted into his nostrils. Gagging on the pungent mixture of
aromas, he vaulted forth.
Twenty yards in he heard its growl, a thundering cacophony that shook
the very foundations of the building and sent tremors rippling
throughout the city. These were its hunting grounds, these places of
darkness and abandonment. Through no fault of their own, in most cases,
the members of the Forgotten Ones had taken up camp in the various lairs
of a creature beyond comprehension or mercy.
David stumbled on, trying not to imagine the horror or pain he would
likely suffer should the Beast catch up to him. He reached his right
hand into one of his upper jacket pockets, withdrawing an old and
battered miniature flashlight of the type policemen were issued. He
still moved forward, his sweaty hand fumbling to turn the top of the
trinket so that he could find his way more readily.