Before the Rooster Crows Twice - C. Arden Michaels

Before the Rooster Crows Twice (eBook)

A Novel Inspired by True Events

C. Arden Michaels (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 1. Auflage
356 Seiten
Big Red House Publishing (Verlag)
979-8-9861294-1-9 (ISBN)

What really happens when one walks a different path than that which is intended? Taking a wrong turn can lead to exciting experiences - or dark places of self-destruction. Sarah Gallus steps off the narrow road and finds herself in an unfamiliar world of forbidden pleasures. She meets and falls for two mysterious and deceitful men who charm their way into her heart. The rabbit hole of sin she enters ultimately leads her to the desert where a supernatural occurance takes place. Sarah faces fighting for her life, which has fallen into the hands of evil forces, as well as those of her new trusted friends. Inspired by true events, Before the Rooster Crows Twice, is one woman's tragic story of loss on many levels and her struggle to get back on the right path after desiring to sample a darker unknown. Her desperate cry for help does not go unheard, but not all those who hear her have good intentions. Before the Rooster Crows Twice is filled with intrigue, suspense, and revelation. A step in the wrong direction could lead to an ominous dimension. Forces of good and evil are stirred up! Can anyone escape the conflict alive?

C. Arden Michaels is a former news director, anchor, reporter, and radio announcer, as well as published poet and magazine writer. Michaels is the winner of several journalism awards and was a board member of the Maine Association of Broadcasters. Time is spent in California and Maine with dog Bogart.

Chapter 2

WATER INTO WINE

Whether it was the extreme heat or an epiphany that brought clarity to Sarah, she finally realized they were in the middle of nowhere. Before, she was only going through the motions of driving from one place to another. She looked out at the hills, cacti, and sand. The friends were adventuring deeper into uncivilized territory, and the reality of being far away from home made her feel vulnerable.

“Don’t forget to stop for beer!” Stuart’s voice boomed from the backseat as he guzzled the last bit of his alcoholic mixture. “If I don’t have brew, my weekend’s shot to hell.”

Ahh, the need for beer. Another macho request from my boys, Sarah mused. She giggled under her breath and peered off to a butte in the distance. Its rocky formation captured her interest. It was mysterious and virile, perhaps symbolic of the men she was with.

Stuart capped his empty vessel and buried it under a mountain of crushed ice in the small cooler behind Sarah’s seat. He grabbed a handful of the white granules. Between the sweltering air temperature and the warmth of his body, the ice quickly turned into liquid, but not before he rubbed the frozen bits across his forehead and down the back of his neck. It was soothing and quickly rid his skin of the sweat. Stuart closed his eyes in satisfaction. The remaining water dripped down the back of his hand and forearm, evaporating before reaching his elbow.

Robbie’s metal CD still blared loudly in the car, filling every nook and cranny – as well as their brains – with nerve-wracking, repetitive beats. Sarah hoped that when it became Stuart’s turn, he would change the mood back to instrumental bliss.

The long-awaited gas station and grocery store was just on the horizon.

“Why didn’t you bring beer from home?” Sarah yelled over the head-banging noise.

“I buy on the fly. Preparation is not my strong point,” Stuart chuckled. “I bring what’s important.” He was referring to the alcohol he had already downed – and himself.

Sarah smiled at Stuart’s irresponsible comment. There was an unspoken expectation that each person would carry their own weight by bringing food and drinks. She brought a few sandwiches, sodas, the jar of peanuts, and a big bag of trail mix to last her the weekend. The guys figured that either Sarah or other women at the camp would have food if they found that the desert grocery store was closed.

“Robbie, you think you could turn your music down? I’m getting a wicked headache,” Stuart moaned.

“Fine,” Robbie grumbled, lowering the volume.

“Thank you,” Sarah whispered.

Griffin’s Grocery & Gas Stop was finally within sight – and it was open. Located about forty minutes from their destination, it was the last place to stock up on supplies such as fuel, food, and alcohol. Sarah pulled up to the pump and shut off the engine. Stuart handed her his credit card and winked. The guys hastily got out. One shoved the nozzle into the gas tank. The other filled the tires with air, before they both bolted into the store.

After paying at the pump, Sarah took time to park closer to the building. By the time she found a spot and went inside, the men had vanished. The two made a beeline to the liquor section and grabbed a case of beer, four bottles of wine, tequila, brandy, some cold cuts, bread, and a huge bag of chips.

Sarah laughed when she found them and saw their shopping cart loaded with alcohol. However, their upbeat, jolly demeanors were quickly doused when she noticed the newspaper headline on a stand at the end of the liquor aisle. “Oil Tycoon Dies in Plane Crash,” she read out loud and then picked up the paper to check out the story. “Oh, my God! I know this guy. This is so sad.”

“Sarah, don’t be so depressing!” Stuart interrupted and then shouted Jesus’ name. “We want to have fun and not have to think of morose news.” Stuart ripped the newspaper from her hand and threw it back on the rack, practically tearing the pages. He continued looking at the wine selection, shaking his head in frustration as he combed the aisle.

Sarah was shocked and taken aback by Stuart’s choice of words. His anger made her want to withdraw, but she resisted the feeling of passivity and spoke up. “Sorry, to be such a drag,” she said sarcastically, “but I interviewed and photographed this guy when I lived in Connecticut. He was nice to me. Am I not supposed to care when I find out that someone I know and liked is dead?”

Stuart stopped in his tracks and turned to face her with a stern look in his eyes. “I really don’t care,” he growled. “Did you forget that this is a fun weekend getaway, Sarah? No reading the news!”

Robbie ignored them and pretended to be interested in several bottles of cabernet sauvignon.

Sarah felt overwhelmingly dismissed. Stuart’s sudden, escalated demeanor was confusing. She wondered why acknowledging an incident – whether negative or positive – had any bearing on his mood. Where was the sweet guy that had been in the back seat of my car? she wondered. A wave of anger made its way to the surface of her lips. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?” she barked.

Robbie remained quiet and picked up a bottle of wine to read its flavor content. His ears turned in to the conversation, catching every word. He almost spoke out in support of Stuart, but this time, he let his friend put Sarah in the place they both wanted her to be. She was to speak positively, or shut up.

“Don’t make us regret having you drive us out here,” Stuart retorted.

Sarah was beside herself with shock at the condescending statement. Wow. Just wow. The irony, she thought. The two men grumbled and griped at times – especially Robbie – but when someone else wanted to air any grievances, it was not allowed. Sarah was used to seeing sadness, death, and despair. As a photographer, it was part of her job. She could not understand his reaction.

The men continued to look at wine.

Sarah glanced at the tossed newspaper. With a tear in her eye, she let out a long sigh and took a moment to reminisce about the tycoon. The man deserved to be remembered by those who knew him or knew of him. Everyone deserves as much, she thought.

Stuart observed Sarah’s somber face. He started to feel an ounce of regret for his actions. But he did not apologize. Instead, he tried gentle intimidation. “Good thoughts, ok? We’re on this trip to have fun. Please remember that.”

Sarah fell into a daze as she gazed down the aisles of the small store. They all strolled up to the registers and silently paid for their items.

As the three walked outside toward the car, their steps were several feet apart from one another. Robbie took in his surroundings. Stuart stopped to look at the sand and rocks, also. As he absorbed the beauty of the scenery, he was awestruck. Sarah noticed, but said nothing. He did not deserve her kindness at that moment. She looked out at the desert and breathed in to catch a whiff of cactus and old tumbleweeds. Even the sand seemed to have a scent. It smelled like stones found up the beach – away from the water – sundried and cold.

Sarah pressed the unlock button on her key fob while her eyes remained fixed on the distant hills. Robbie and Stuart put their items in the trunk. Then – as if supernaturally synched up – they all got into the car. On to Roka Valley.

Less than fifteen minutes into the ride, Stuart reached for his colorful, empty, aluminum drinking vessel. “Oh, I think it’s time for a little Happy Jesus, my lifeline to Heaven,” he proclaimed, raising his cup.

“Yes! Happy Jesus!” Robbie emphatically agreed.

“What are you doing back there?” Sarah inquired, eyeing Stuart’s makeshift bar.

The former contentious conversation at the grocery store was washed away with the introduction of booze.

“I don’t tell all my secrets,” Stuart smiled, passing her the cup. “Here, little darling. Take a long, hard swig of that.”

“What’s in this Happy Jesus?” Sarah asked while keeping an eye on the road. “And what’s with the name?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? Let’s just say I turn the water into wine,” Stuart mocked. “It tastes a little like Sangria, only better.”

Sarah laughed, nearly choking on the liquid. She quickly discerned that there was more brandy in the mixture than regular wine. It was a strong concoction. She knew in her heart that drinking while driving could land her in jail,...

Erscheint lt. Verlag	7.4.2023
Sprache	englisch
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
ISBN-13	979-8-9861294-1-9 / 9798986129419

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