Soul Shocked

This book was an experimental affair for me. I began with the thought, "What if I could create a comic book with just words." Then I had an idea... and thwacked the keys. Eventually, I created a cool format, but I felt if I wrote the entire book in such a format, the work would lose suspense, and it would be a lot of work for the reader... I did however keep the format for the last 1/3 of the novel. Next, I had another great idea with this book. "What if the reader could choose whose story to read first." But, I determined if they chose one particular character, they'd be too offended to continue without proper context... 

I've even struggled with the name of this one. Until the name Soul Shocked grabbed and screamed, "It was so obvious.."
 
Here's the back cover:
 
Accidentally throwing his soul into a disabled man, high-school senior Armando Sanchez discovers that he can switch bodies with anyone, anywhere. After an awkward body-swapping encounter, Armando meets Jen Weber who discovers his secret. Together, as they explore this power, Armando and Jen learn of the death of a youth who not only looks exactly like Armando, but also has the same name and birthday… Driven by an unrelenting need to know about this alternate Armando and why he was killed, they delve into a dark world of crime and drugs, where Armando realizes he's not the only one who can swap souls. As the facts surrounding the case grow grittier and darker, Armando peers deeply into a soul so ugly, so cruel… His hope begins to fade. Yet, he knows he alone is called to face this enemy.


You can get it on Amazon...

First Chapter:

Begotten 
 

I lived most my life incomplete, and I liked it that way, until I saw that video. The first time I saw it was an out of body experience. Literally.

I’ve watched it over and over.

I have every detail memorized.

It happened back when VHS recorders were mainstream. That camera had the ambient-light night-vision feature. High grade for the time, I’m sure. A green screen speckled with grains of yellow.

Filmed at a low angle, a border agent munched a sandwich behind the wheel. His jaw clenched with each bite adding even more intensity to the stern face. He turned to the camera. “Get that thing out of my face,” he said. Floyd was his name. Agent Floyd. The man that saved my life. He didn’t like to talk much. A manly man with a big intimacy bubble, but a teddy bear heart. “Save the film for something important.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not recording.” Agent Strickland said from behind the camera. Strickland was Floyd’s negative. With no intimacy boundaries, he lifted his shirt and pointed out every hairy mole in his life, whether you wanted to see it or not. Then, he’d ask you if it was cancerous. He transitioned from mole to mole without a rest in between.

“The red light is on.”

The screen spun toward a blurred Strickland face. I couldn’t make out his features. The man’s head bobbed like a caged monkey being taunted with a banana. “Oh. Yeah. I see it. How do you stop recording?”

“I don’t know. You said you were the expert with the thing.”

“Yeah. But my girlfriend’s isn’t as nice.” The camera zoomed past Strickland’s face, aimed out the side window. The brighter stars gleamed through the static twinkles. “I would have brought hers with me, but she’s kind of possessive. If you ask me, she shouldn’t whine about me taking it. I’m the one that paid for it. She just sits at home and watches TV.”

“Uh huh.”

“The other day though, she said she went looking for a job. So I asked her where she went. And, you know what she said.”

“Huh?”

“She said she went to the Briefcase Bar. Can you believe that? Back to where her ex-husband manages. They’ve been fighting over her son for who knows how long. And she’s going to try to get a job there? I’d rather she continue to sit on her lazy…”

A skyward flash whitewashed the screen, turning it to straight static.

“What the hell was that?” Strickland’s voice murmured in the darkness. “My eyes. I can’t see… That light?”

“I don’t know what it was. I can’t see too well either.”

“Was it lightning?”

“No. Couldn’t have been. There was no thunder. My guess is it was a flare.”

“No flare is that bright, unless it goes off in front of your face. We would have heard that, or seen someone set it off.”

Slowly, the camera’s view regained focus on Strickland’s feet. “What’s that in the sky?” Strickland asked.

“Uh… Uh… I have never seen… Put the camera on it.”

The screen move skyward, right above a nearby hill.

A light, or lights, floated oblong in the air like a tear in flesh. The outer edge was a jagged lavender. A layer closer to the center, the color was red. The inside layer, yellow. The center was nothing but the black starry sky. The fact that I could see color, meant that light was bright enough to trip off the camera’s night-vision. It did not seem far away, even within walking distance.

I don’t know how many times I’ve paused the tape on that light. Trying to figure out who I am and why…

“Should we go check it out? It is so bright, so close.” Strickland said.

Floyd started the SUV.

The screen jerked, more so at larger bumps. Tires grit the gravel. The light stayed center.

“Have you ever seen anything like it before?” Strickland asked.

“Never,” Floyd said with a hint of nervous emotion.

“What caused it? Is in an astronomical phenomenon? Like the northern lights?”

“Don’t know. We’re too far south to see the northern lights. And this thing is west of us.”

“It is so damn close.”

“I know. It don’t look natural.”

“You’re not thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Don’t get all Roswell yet.”

As the vehicle zoomed over the crest of a hill, the light faded. The Purple turned blue, the red purple, and the yellow disappeared.

“It’s fading,” Strickland yelled. “Go faster.”

“I’ll try.”

They were so close. But, the more I think about it, the more I believe those two were lucky. If they had reached the light, they’d probably be dead.

I’d probably be dead.

Maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad.

After one more shift of color, the lights disappeared.

“Damn.” Strickland yelled. “Where’d it go?”

Strickland scanned the camera as Floyd parked. The night-vision green returned. A cloudless night. Stars bright in the sky.

Gravel crunched as the agents stepped out of the vehicle. They stopped. The camera swept the landscape. Rugged hills with little vegetation. Hints of heightened breathing and distant crickets whispered within the speaker static. Even without seeing their faces, Floyd and Strickland’s apprehension to move became my apprehension.

A stream of light beamed into a draw, flowing toward the valley.

“Wasn’t the light coming from there?” Strickland pointed the camera to where Floyd aimed his flashlight.

“I think so,” Floyd replied. “Let’s go check it out.”

“Ok.”

Floyd came into the screen. He pulled out his handgun lifting it to his flashlight.

“You think that is necessary?” Strickland chuckled, a snort nervous. “I don’t think that will kill whatever made those lights.”

“I thought I saw something.”

“I think that’s just rocks.”

They wandered down the draw, Floyd leading. The rocky terrain caused a stumble here and there. Stones tumbled downward echoing as they rolled.

“Oh Lord…” Floyd uttered. “That’s not rocks. Those… Those… Are not…”

“What the hell? What happened to these people?” Strickland scanned blurry heaps of motionless bodies stretched out on each side of the draw. With the night vision setting, I could hardly tell they were human. Strickland walked in between the two lines of bodies. “Let me turn on the camera light.”

The top of my chest throbbed as if someone had socked me. That first lighted image will never leave my mind. A young, pregnant woman lay on the rocks. Dark hair. Dark complexion. And a flowery dress.

“Put the camera down. Call for back up!” Floyd ordered. “I’ll see if any of these people are still alive.”

Strickland placed the camera down. The rocks glowed ghostly as the agents scrambled to assist.

“Anyone still alive?” Strickland asked after he’d finished calling for help.

“No.”

“Have you ever seen anything…”

“No.”

“Twins?” Strickland asked.

“7 sets? Identical. All still warm. And how is it they fell…”

“Should I get it on camera?”

“Sure. Maybe it will help with an investigation.”

One side of the draw was a mirror of the other. Seven people on each side. Probably not a lot of people would have cared that a bunch of Mexicans died trying to cross the border. Who knows how many people die out there for any number of reasons? When events are part of the norm, not too many pay attention. But what happened that night was ions beyond any norm.

Strickland swept over each individual as he worked downward.

The first set was two identical men. Younger in age, late teens early twenties. Both lay on their backs, in a symmetrical manner. Their open eyes looked away from the draw. Close behind the two, another set of young male twins. Next, a young female set of twins. Then two older male sets, and one older female set.

The last set still conjures tears as I think of it. I’ve studied these women’s features numerous times. They were both so beautiful. I couldn’t see the color of their eyes, but I’m sure they were brown. They had to have been brown. They were so young. Couldn’t have been much older than 16. Soft facial features rested so peacefully. Her cheeks were speckled like a sparrow’s egg. It didn’t look as if they suffered at all. As if there souls were suddenly yanked from there bodies. They both wore the same loose fitting floral dress. Both women were quite far along in pregnancy. 8 months at least.

“What happened?” Strickland asked.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t look like anyone died violently.”

“You sure it wasn’t lightning we saw? What else could kill so many people so fast?”

“There’d be burn marks if they had been struck by lightning. And, there’s not a cloud in the sky.”

“These poor girls here. I can’t imagine walking in such terrain so far along in your pregnancy.”

Floyd nodded and caressed one of the wombs. His expression tightened. “This baby is alive!” He shouted.

“What? What… What should we do?”

“Give me your knife.”

“You can’t do that. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“That doesn’t matter right now. This baby will be dead before help gets here.”

Strickland set the camera down. I couldn’t see anything but part of a foot, and some rocks.

“How are you going to do this?” Strickland asked.

“My wife had a C-section. I’ve seen the video of how they’re suppose to work… If I don’t do anything the baby will die.”

Over the camera, I could hear jostles, and instruction.

“This baby is alive too!” Strickland blurted.

“What the hell? Hang on. I almost got this one out. Then you take the baby. I’ll get that one out.”

The screams of a crying baby echoed. I guess that was a good sign. Floyd did something right. He did two somethings right. Minutes later, the second set of bawlings burst out.

That was the day I was born.