…a matter of light and death…
In the sleepy college town of Cumberton, MD, an old cemetery must be moved to make room for a new dormitory, and an ungodly Light, buried for centuries, escapes. A rash of gruesome student suicides rocks the town. Sheriff Estin Booker teams up with former Baltimore homicide detective Anna Tucci to investigate the deaths. What neither expects is to have all roads point to a 2000-year-old legend which, if true, could lead to the destruction of mankind.
The most frightening account of the power of evil breeching our world since The Exorcist, DEAD LIGHT will teach you the most improbable lesson you will ever learn:
FEAR THE LIGHT!
In the sleepy college town of Cumberton, MD, an old cemetery must be moved to make room for a new dormitory, and an ungodly Light, buried for centuries, escapes. A rash of gruesome student suicides rocks the town. Sheriff Estin Booker teams up with former Baltimore homicide detective Anna Tucci to investigate the deaths. What neither expects is to have all roads point to a 2000-year-old legend which, if true, could lead to the destruction of mankind.
The most frightening account of the power of evil breeching our world since The Exorcist, DEAD LIGHT will teach you the most improbable lesson you will ever learn:
FEAR THE LIGHT!
EXCERPT
With
Jill’s help, and using his previous foothold, it didn’t take long for him to
crawl out of the grave. He took a couple of deep breaths and tested his ankle.
Still hurt, but not as bad. Definitely just a sprain.
She
pointed the light beam at the box. Looked about five inches square and maybe
three or four inches high. At one time it probably had been painted red, but
now was more the shade of rust. Curious. It was made of wood, yet unlike the
casket, had remained intact. He shook the box. Nothing.
Jill
took the box and shook it. “Empty.”
“Why
would they bury a locked empty box?” he asked.
She
aimed the light on the headstone, which lay on its side nearby. The letters
were barely legible.
Father William
Cumber
1645-1713
“The
guy they named the town after?” she asked.
“Maybe
it’s some religious relic. When we get back, I’ll get a screwdriver and pry it
open.”
“What
if there’s something valuable inside?” She turned. Momentarily, the flashlight
beam moved away from the path. In that instant, Tony tripped again.
“Shit.”
They
both fell, sending the flashlight flying out of Jill’s hand.
Pain
from his ankle shot up Tony’s leg. “Find the flashlight,” he said through
clenched teeth. He rolled over onto his stomach and tried his best to get to
his knees.
Jill
crawled in a short radius, groped around for the light while still holding
tight to the box.
“Got
it.” She turned on the flashlight, pointing the beam upwards as she slowly rose
to her feet.
Tony
thought he felt something brush against his skin; probably a moth. And a sweet
odor. Familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Must be from opening all
the graves after hundreds of years.
From
behind them, a deep, gravelly whisper. “Give me the box.”
Jill’s
shriek reverberated throughout the entire cemetery. She turned, and the edge of
the light beam caught the face of a wild-haired, crazy-eyed old man. She
screamed again and dropped the flashlight; the light went out. Though he was as
scared as she was, Tony hobbled back to insert himself between Jill and the old
man. The man grabbed for the box. Tony flailed out with his right arm, the box
flew out of the old man’s hand, smacking into a headstone. The soft wood
cracked, splitting the box open along its seams. Instantly, a searing light
from inside the box flashed, then disappeared.
Tony
thought, how could that be possible? He must've been seeing stars from
hitting his head. Frantic, he looked around but the old man had disappeared.
Jill knelt in the soil, her face buried in her arms. She must’ve tripped, too.
He helped her to her feet.
“You
okay?” she asked, then brushed her arm.
“Moths,”
he said. “They’re all over the place.”
“Tony,
think I saw a flash of light coming from the box.”
Tony glanced down at the broken box. Of
course there was no light inside. “From hitting your head when you fell, that’s
all.”
“But
I didn’t—”
The
cough interrupted her. They both froze. He was still there.
Mike Pace was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He attended the University of Illinois on an art scholarship, and graduated with a BFA degree. He taught public school inWashington D.C.’s inner city, while attending law school at Georgetown University. As an attorney, he prosecuted numerous cases, including those involving murder and rape. He resigned in order to practice law part time, thereby allowing him the time to devote to his first love, creative writing. He lives on the Chesapeake Bay with his wife and two dogs, Blueberry and Scout. DEAD LIGHT is Mike’s first novel.
Website- http:// Mikepacebooks.com
Twitter- www.twitter.com/MikePacebooks
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