The Echo Chamber
By Jon Coley
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About this ebook
There is a new member of the undead community in the American southwest. But to which clan will he belong? Does he require blood, flesh, or brains? Does his heart still beat, longing for the hunt? What part of hell will he bring with him? Join Jack Turner as he embarks upon his peculiar afterlife.
Jon Coley
Jon Coley lives in Georgia with his wife, daughters, an orange cat, an eccentric husky, and an overly affectionate a Great Dane. He has been a school teacher for more than twenty-five years. That's probably what's wrong with him..
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The Echo Chamber - Jon Coley
The Echo Chamber
Jon Coley
Published by Jon Coley, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE ECHO CHAMBER
First edition. June 7, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Jon Coley.
ISBN: 979-8223867470
Written by Jon Coley.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
The Echo Chamber
Sign up for Jon Coley's Mailing List
Also By Jon Coley
About the Author
For Mary Augustine
Perhaps one day you will read this and think your dad was pretty cool.
Chapter 1 Waking
Bernard caught the moth on his way up the stairs to the top floor of the Turner House. He ate it without thinking, just caught it and popped it in his mouth. Shortly after his grin dissipated, but not from the animal’s bitter taste and wet, gritty texture. He pulled up his coat sleeve and gazed at his arm and felt that familiar tingling sensation. A large wisdom spot, brown and blotchy, was evident halfway between his veiny wrist and the crook of his elbow. He looked at it intently in the gloomy light of the stairwell. Slowly the spot began to fade. Within a few seconds it disappeared altogether, leaving nothing but his pail white skin and blue green blood veins. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
Foolishness. He'd have to be more careful. For the past sixty years he had lived in this town where the desert met the pines, carefully managing his diet so that he appeared to age along with the general population. Letting his appetite get away from him was dangerous. One bloody meal and he'd be thirty, or maybe even twenty-five years old again. He wasn't prepared for that. His holdings had not been prepared for transfer yet. His new identity hadn't been established, though some basic elements were in place. Plus, he rather liked his current life. Things were ... interesting.
Sure, technology had changed so much that it was hard to keep up. He laughed at himself. A two hundred plus year old zombie worried about smartphones and widgets. It was just one of the multitude of adjustments he'd had to make in his unlife. The old, well dressed, zombie finished his walk up to the penthouse of the Turner building, and knocked on the door. There was a high tech finger print scanner, but he never used it. Fingerprints were evidence.
A few seconds later, a young woman with black hair and deep, but disturbingly feral eyes, jerked the ornate door opened. The scene was quite a dichotomy. He was a pasty old zombie in a three piece suit, and she was a young, wild werewolf in yoga pants and a tank top. Though, truth be told, she would be a middle aged woman by now if she weren't in her unlife.
You're late,
she stated flatly.
Observant as ever, my dear.
Bernard walked into the lavish suite and took off his jacket. His suspenders held up his loose fitting trousers over his boney frame. It was time to get to work. Looking like a president touring a factory with a bunch of blue collar workers, he rolled his sleeves up past his pale, knobby elbows. Any casual observer would see a frail old man being tended by his young granddaughter. That observer would be quite wrong. Both were incredibly powerful, physically and otherwise.
The others are waiting in the drawing room. We should get there soon too.
Yes, yes. Sorry for the delay. There were quite a few people to pay off with this ... situation. The press was all over this one. But no excuses I suppose. Let's have ourselves a wake.
With that, the two supernatural monsters opened the interior door and entered the drawing room. It wasn't really a drawing room in the traditional sense. The posh chamber literally had a huge drawing taking up the whole marble floor. It was four circles in each corner, a large square in the center, and a huge X connecting them. Again, the causal observer would only see a simple drawing made of black tiles. The ancient gilded runes that were scribed underneath, however, he would never see. It was another play on words too. The drawings were meant to help draw out new initiates into the local undead community as safely as possible. They were going to come back anyway, but the runes helped to prevent other guests from crashing the party.
Two men were standing inside two of the circles in the far corners of the room. One was short, but roguishly handsome. The other was as tall and pale as Bernard, but far younger in appearance powerfully built. This was the ghoul and the vampire, respectively. The four of them led the undead community alliance in their region. All four representatives nodded to each other in formal acknowledgement. Bernard and the werewolf took their places in their own circles. The werewolf spoke first.
We are at J now. Jack is a good name.
Again, all four nodded in acknowledgement. They faced the center of the room. Lying in the middle of the square was the dead body, the corpse of a young man. The cadaver had been cleaned, but its injuries were apparent, on the upper torso anyway. There was a hospital sheet covering the man from the waist down.
The werewolf called out, Jack Turner, come forth!
The