Revenge: The Gray-Matter Chrolicles: Book 1 (The Matter Chronicles 4) Read online

  Revenge, Book One

  The Gray-Matter Chronicles

  By P. G. Thomas

  Written and Published by P.G. Thomas

  Copyright 2016 P.G. Thomas

  Dedicated to both

  My brother Paul, who taught me to fish.

  My brother Scott, who I should have fished with more.

  First Draft Editing by Two Tree Editing, Inc.

  Cover Art by Paul Santana, e-mail: [email protected]

  You can follow me on twitter: @PGTtheauthor

  You can contact me on Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/The-Matter-Chronicles-886040318206439/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any reference to historical persons, fictional characters (print, movies, or television), actual products, musical groups, song titles, or anything similar are used fictitiously, to add an element of realism to this story. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  I would like to extend special thanks to my beta readers: Sheila Saldanha, Peets Dem, Bob Cortese, Barbara Black, Donald Noyce, and Steve the forklift driver

  A note to the readers: the old-fashioned coordinator ‘for’, has been replaced with ‘as’, which also has the classification of a subordinator. Too many times, ‘for’ fails to coordinate the clauses correctly, resulting in either extremely long or incorrectly punctuated sentences. Having found numerous references stating this practice has ‘generally been replaced in modern English,’ I have also adopted it. However, there are times when it does revert back to being a marker for dependent clauses, but I have reserved those instances to the beginning of a sentence, attempting to decrease the effects of this transition. With so few words/clauses identified as ‘dependent marker words,’ removing ‘as’ completely from this role increases the frequency of the remaining, making them appear overused. Other than that, I have also done my best to eliminate the appearance of ‘as.’

  Books Written by P.G. Thomas

  The Anti-Matter Chronicles

  Book 1: Tranquil Fury [~260 pages, 100,000 words]

  Book 2: Sky Elf [~307 pages, 112,000 words]

  Book 3: Blood Bond [~353 pages, 132,000 words]

  The Gray-Matter Chronicles

  Book 1: Revenge [~270 pages, 109,000 words]

  Book 2: Reset [~297 pages, 110,000 words]

  Book 3: Residual [~400 pages, 150, 000 words]

  In this series, you will find some bold italic dialogue, representing a telepathic conversation. As well, some of the uneducated characters speak in a very obvious broken dialect.

  Original Version

  For a number of reasons, it was necessary to remove the original version, which contained the unique elf and dwarf speech patterns. If you were reading it in Kindle Unlimited, desiring to continue, please contact me on Facebook (listed above) or by email ([email protected]), and I will republish that version separately.

  Index

  Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

  Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

  Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

  Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

  Introduction

  This trilogy, The Gray-Matter Chronicles, continues the story from the conclusion of The Anti-Matter Chronicles, which can be enjoyed after as a prequel. Like any sequel, sufficient references from the previous story have been included, so that you, the reader, will have an understanding of people, places, and events. However, it is impossible to reference everything from those previous books, which both exceeded 900 pages and 350,000 words, while still maintaining appropriate sizes for these volumes. Thank you, for taking an interest in my works of fiction.

  Chapter 1

  The night before, Samantha, Hope, and Brooke had taken turns waking each other, and as a result, Lauren had found little peaceful sleep. Presuming it was because the triplets missed their father, Ryan, who was away on a university presentation, she hoped some fresh air would make them nap. After bundling them in thick sweaters and purple jumpers, she headed out to Colonial Park. Walking along the path, she exchanged pleasantries with mothers doing the same, and thirty minutes later, the first baby began to fall asleep. Finding an empty bench under the shade of a large tree, she began rocking the stroller, and after a few minutes, the remaining two were soon napping. Pulling out a book to read, she let go of the stroller to turn the page after finishing the first two, and reaching for the stroller, her hand only found air. Looking to the side, from her peripheral vision thirty feet away, she saw both the stroller and a magical portal. Before she could stand, the stroller entered it, which then disappeared, and as she screamed, her heart almost stopped.

  *******

  John heard the sound of his pen bouncing on the floor. Yawning, stretching his arms back, he bent down to pick it up. Looking at his desk, he was unable to believe how many term papers remained. Some days, I really hate math. Why did I ever accept this teacher’s assistant job? Reaching for the cup of coffee, which was cold, he grabbed the next exam to grade, but then his smart phone rang, interrupting his frustrations.

  “Hello, John, I think I’ve been arrested.” It was Lauren.

  “What do you mean? Arrested for what, boredom?”

  “JOHN IRONHOUSE, this is serious, so get your ass down to the police station right now!” Then the line went dead.

  After grabbing his briefcase and suit coat, he ran out of his office and down to his outdated car. Why the hell is Lauren at the police station? Heading towards downtown, he turned on the radio, and scanning the stations, he heard an Amber Alert. Pulling over to the side of the road, he turned up the volume. I repeat, be on the lookout for three missing one-year-old triplet girls all wearing purple jumpers. They were last seen in Colonial Park today at noon. If you see anybody with three infant girls, and if you think something may be suspicious, please contact your local police force. John instantly knew the alert was for Samantha, Brooke, and Hope, the children of Lauren: his unofficial goddaughters. Even though he now understood the harsh tone of her voice, what he failed to understand was why she had called him John Ironhouse—the name of the dwarven warrior clan that had adopted him.

  Four years ago, on the final day of school before spring break, there had been an accident between two military vehicles; one carrying anti-matter, the other enriched uranium. The result of that collision opened up a wormhole, hurling them into a strange place called Calicon, where dwarves, elves, mysteries, and magic occupied the lands, not to mention an invading army. At first, they were uncertain of what had happened or why, but it soon became apparent that it went beyond being an accident, seeming more like an invitation.

  That was the beginning of an adventure that changed them all in so many different ways. As a result, every year since, on the first weekend of spring break all five would gather. There was so much they wanted to remember, so much they wanted to forget, but through all of the good and the bad, they simply were unable to let it go. However, there was nobody they could share it with since none would ever believe their outlandish stories. Today, being the last day of school before spring break, they had already made their plans for this year’s escape, and a cold shiver ran down John’s back.

  In this world, John was technically seventeen, appearing big for his age, since he was unable to add on the years spent in Calicon to his birth certificate. Because he looked twenty-o
ne, he was able to get into most bars without ID. While currently enrolled in university, he had no desires to accelerate the completion of his second diploma, any more than he already had, so over the previous summer he had studied law. ‘Study’ is probably the wrong word because he had only read the law books in the library, as he was one of those rare intellectual prodigies whose learning was as easy as breathing. Before the current school year had begun, he wrote the bar exam, passed, and even received offers from law firms (but declined because of his age). While he might not be allowed to practice law, he still knew it.

  Last seen at noon? It’s eight p.m... Has Lauren been there all this time? As he turned down the radio, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  Ryan’s excited voice exploded out of it, “John, I can’t get a hold of Lauren. I just arrived back into town, and the cops were here questioning me. They say my children are missing.”

  “Calm down. I just talked to her, and I’m on my way to visit her right now. Stay there and I’ll contact you soon.” As quickly as he disconnected, Ryan called back, but John sent the call to voicemail. Ryan was an outstanding father who loved his daughters as much as he loved Lauren, but having him at the police station right now would only add to the confusion. He called up Logan, her brother, “Have you heard anything?”

  “No, about what?”

  “Right now, I have no idea on what’s happening. Go visit Ryan, but keep him inside. If you see any police, invoke your right to silence. If they push you, explain to them that I’m your counsel and to contact me.” Before Logan could ask why, John ended the call. Twenty minutes later, pulling up to the police station, inserting a few coins in the meter, he ran up the stairs two at a time. At the front desk, a sergeant was interrogating a box of stale donuts, looking for one that might still be fresh.

  “I would like to see my client, Lauren—”

  The sergeant turned around, “Hey Stumps, I think that crazy broad’s lawyer is here, or maybe it’s their kid.” He turned back, “Which is it? You a lawyer, or a son of a lawyer?”

  “I’m her counsel.”

  A tall man in his mid-forties, five foot eleven, with a standard issued police haircut, and a non-standard receding hairline, wearing a tired brown suit, walked over to the desk sergeant. Taking the box of donuts, he dumped them into the garbage can. “It’s Steve, like Steve Austin, the Bionic Man.”

  The desk sergeant looked into the trash bin. “You should really try watching a show made in the last decade. Should have named you Grumpy instead. There’s a pretend lawyer here to see you and your perp.”

  “You’re still wet behind the ears,” advised Steve. “Go home to your mom, as we aren’t playing games here.”

  John opened up his briefcase, pulling out one of the cards he had printed after he had passed the bar exam.

  The detective looked at it, “Yeah, I have ones that say I’m the King of Egypt.”

  Their adventures in Calicon had changed them all, but for John, it had made him realize his potential, knowing that he could command respect. In the final days, he had captured and tamed two types of magic, and with that power, he had helped to free the innocents, unraveled the mystery behind the Darkpaye invasion, bringing the invading army to their knees. It was on the battle outlook where the War Council should have been giving commands, but they looked to the youngest to save them all. They looked to John Ironhouse, the Unchosen and Earth Mother, who was able to stop the invasion long enough so that Lauren could finally end it. He looked up at the Detective, “Thirty-two.”

  “What’re you trying to do, guess my age?”

  “No, that’s the number of criminal and civil charges that I can bring against you right now, and with a little bit of research, I can probably double it. So, if I leave, I’ll be phoning the press, the police board, and even the governor, advising them of how you are denying my client her rights. Now, can I see her?”

  “Since my shift almost being over, I don’t need this crap.” Steve handed John a visitor’s badge, advising him to follow him to the interrogation room. As the detective led the way, John noticed that he had an odd gait to his walk, being almost animated. When the detective stopped in front of a door, which he opened, John saw Lauren handcuffed to a table, her head bent over crying.

  “What happened?”

  “Ask your client.”

  “Detective, since you’re detaining her, I’ll assume there is an active case file. My client has naturally invoked her rights to silence, so I’m asking you WHAT HAPPENED!”

  “She took her daughters to the park today but didn’t return with them. Beyond that, we’re just waiting for her to sign a confession.”

  “So some criminal or pervert has taken her children, saying something to scare her quiet, and you give him what, an eight-hour head start? Have you even investigated any other leads? Or are you just going to go home and turn on the game? Get out of here! I want to talk to my client alone, and make sure you turn off the damn closed circuit television.”

  As the door closed, Lauren raised her head, forcing a smile onto her tear-stained face.

  Sitting down, John wrapped his hands around his mouth, so if anybody was watching, they wouldn’t be able to see or hear him. Silently he whispered, “Lauren, if you can hear me, just nod your head.” When she did, he continued, “Now don’t say anything, just nod. Have you said anything to them?” No, was her silent response. “Are the triplets missing?” She nodded her head in agreement. “Do you know where they are?”

  Fighting back the tears, Lauren reached for his hands, which he extended. Wrapping hers around his, she cautiously tapped his ring—the ring he had received from the Ironhouse dwarf clan. As his jaw went slack, she nodded yes.

  Immediately, jumping out of his chair, he banged on the door.

  “Is she ready to confess?” asked Steve, standing in the open doorframe.

  Defiance and confusion filled his voice, “Have you charged my client with any crimes?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Good, then get those damn handcuffs off of her, do your effing job, and investigate this crime to find those children. Putting her through this just makes great front page news: police incompetence! It’ll be in every paper nationwide by tomorrow morning. Now, release her into my custody and do your damn job!”

  Steve straightened his back, “Look here you little—”

  John also straightened his, “NO! You don’t have any evidence. Your unlawful detention of my client, your inability to investigate this case, this is all bullshit, and you know it. If you have confirmation of any illegal acts, then charge her right now so I can get her out on bail.”

  Walking over to Lauren, the detective released the handcuffs. “You’ll need to sign some papers at the front desk.” After they had, Steve took the pen, shoving it in John’s pocket. “A souvenir for your first case,” then added mockingly, “counselor.”

  Hearing the contempt in the words, John ignored them. A few minutes later, as he helped her into the front seat of his car, a storm quickly advanced towards them with thunder erupting in the dark sky. Pulling out onto the street, an unmarked police car behind them turned on its headlights. “Everything is going to be fine. Just stay calm.” Picking up his cell phone, he called Logan. “I have Lauren with me. Do you still have your student pass to the university? Okay, let’s meet in my office. The police won’t be able to gain access to the buildings or parking this time of night. Okay, we’ll meet you there in a half-hour.” After ending the call, he looked over to her, realizing that she was missing her handbag. “Did the police take your purse?”

  “No, it’s with the triplets,” but her voice sounded hollow.

  As they were driving to his office, the storm unleashed its rage, pelting the car and road with large drops of rain. Time seemed to slow down, and as the wipers removed the water obscuring John’s vision, he attempted to remove the confusion in his own head. The triplets are in Calicon? How? He had a thousand questions, but asking Lauren right n
ow, meant she would have to repeat her story later when Ryan was present, so he thought it best if she only had to answer the questions once. Thirty minutes later, seeing the large sign for the university in the night, he pulled into the faculty parking garage, watching the gate block the unmarked car as he headed inside. Being uncertain of which way Logan would go, John hoped he would get there fast, and pulling into his designated spot, he let out a sigh of relief.

  As the car stopped, Lauren tried to gain her composure, “I’m sorry, but I had to call you, as there was no one else I could turn to. Nobody would believe me.”

  “At the police station, you tapped my ring. Are the triplets in Calicon?”

  Lauren nodded, wiping away her tears.

  Going to the other side of the car, after John let Lauren out, he guided her upstairs. They had only been sitting in the lobby for a few minutes when they heard a knock at the front door, and he saw Ryan, Logan, with Eric standing outside, each soaking wet. After he had let them in, Ryan ran over to Lauren.

  “They’re gone, somebody took them,” and then she started to cry uncontrollably.

  Embracing her, he cradled her in his arms, like she was a fragile newborn child, following the rest to the elevators.

  When they were in his office, John put on a pot of coffee, and as it slowly filled, he watched the drops fall, giving Lauren and Ryan a chance to talk in private.

  Eric wandered in, “What happened?” Looking at John, he remembered the short, skinny teenager from four years ago, and how he paid other team members to steal his glasses, so John would have to wear the ones with the round frames. How he tortured him, calling him Harry, kidded him about taking his broom to school, and so much more, plus all of the others. Even though that distant world had rejected John, gifting the other five with strange powers or benefactors, he had begun to understand it, and reaching out into the night sky, he had captured the magic. As a result, it allowed Eric to deliver a lesson to the Darkpaye invading army that they would never forget. Eric called him John Ironhouse, as he was his adopted dwarf brother. Lauren had called him her Chief Council, Supreme Ruler of Magic, and Tester of Gravity. His elfin Earth Guard had proclaimed him Earth Mother, which was their tradition. Nonetheless, if John had been absent from the bus that day, Eric knew he would never have returned. Before John could answer, Eric picked up the odd sculpture sitting on the counter of the kitchenette. “Isn’t this the spring drinking trophy from Delta Kelta whatever?”