The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable by J.B. Garner Read Free Book Online Page A

had no desire to open my eyes, so I sent my left arm in search of the offending noise.  It felt around pillows, sheets, eventually finding the nightstand and its ultimate goal.  Cracking my eyes open, I brought the phone to me, stabbed the answer button, and forced sound out of my mouth.
    “Hello?”  That’s what I attempted to say, but I don’t know if I managed to get it quite right.
    “Dr. Roman?”  Yes, it was Dean Reginald Tyson.  My boss.  “You really don’t sound well.”
    “Mmmhmm.”  My mind, still not even sure where I was or how I got here, tried to grasp what was going on.  “ ... bad flu.  Dr. Flynn too.”
    “Yes, Mr. Louis informed me.”  The older man tried to erase any notes of concern for my condition from his voice.  “Well, it was irresponsible not to call me directly, especially before the original meeting.  Frankly, you should feel lucky that this Whiteout thing has occurred.”  Some shred of joviality returned to his voice as the events of the past day started coming back to me.
    “Hrm?  Why?”  Yes, I was dazzling him with my vocabulary today.
    “Isn’t it obvious?  This is the greatest scientific event in modern times.  Every aspect of the Whiteout and the Push need to be analyzed and understood.”  Dean Tyson seemed almost jubilant.  “We’re getting word that both the federal and state governments are about to flood the scientific community with money to get to work on this.”
    “That’s great, Dean,”  I replied, my command of speech slowly returning.  “Back to the meeting, when do we reschedule?  This won’t last more than a day or two tops.”
    “Well, Irene, I’m afraid to say that your current project is going on the back burner for the moment.  Low priority.”  My stomach sank.  Even though my machine was an accomplice to this disaster, I still wanted it  be acknowledged, important even.  “Don’t worry though, it’s only because I have a much more important and prestigious assignment for your research group.”  He paused, as if waiting to be prompted.
    “I can’t wait to hear about it, Dean Tyson.”  I hoped my lack of enthusiasm was masked by the pain in my voice.
    “I’ll have all the details some time tomorrow, so I suggest you concentrate on getting better.  Tell Eric hello for me.”  While I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Reginald, he wasn’t a bad person.
    “I will, Reggie.  Hopefully I will see you in your office tomorrow.”
    The dean made his goodbyes and hung up.  I lay there, still on my side, with only the barest illumination from the cellphone’s screen.  The time was 8:23 p.m.  Six hours had passed from when I had my discussion, if that was even the right word, with Eric.
    What worried me is that I had no idea how I wound up here in our, no, my own bed.  I had no idea what kind of shape I was in other than ‘pain’.  What happened to Eric or what he may have done at the graveyard after I passed out, all unknowns.
    I chided myself mentally.  If I was so worried about it, I just had to find out, didn’t I?  With that in mind, I forced myself to slide out of bed and turn on the lights.  Now that I could see properly, I could tell someone had changed me out of my cut and bloodied motorcycle leathers into one of the over-sized T-shirts I preferred to sleep in.
    My forearm was in a walking cast; I suppose I had been right in my initial thought that I had broken something.  The uncovered part of my right arm had a line of splotchy bruising, self-inflicted from whatever I did to myself and the backlash from impacting a physical god’s face. The rest of my body was dotted with scabbed-over cuts.  Someone had taken the time to attend to all of my injuries carefully.
    What wasn’t so obvious was how I was in such good shape.  Even if I had been given immediate medical attention, I should still be hurt worse than this.  It had just been six hours after all.
    Everything ached, yes, but, from