Authors: Billy Chitwood
Phoenix Fire
By
Billy Ray Chitwood
3200 Lebanon Road
Springfield, KY 40069
This novel is a work of fiction. The names, certain place names, characters, incidents, locations are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead are coincidental.
All rights to this book are reserved, including the right to reproduce portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Those seeking information as to film/media rights should contact
C
inc at the address above.
Copyright © 2016 by Billy Ray Chitwood
Designed by JAC at
C
inc. Manufactured in the U.S.A.
ISBN-13:
978-1533622334
ISBN-10:
1533622337
DEDICATION
Occasionally in life there will come an extraordinary event. For me, there were two extraordinary events, simultaneous and incredibly awesome --- the birth of twin granddaughters, Chase and Paige. PHOENIX FIRE is dedicated to them. Their cheerleading beauty has graced the sidelines at Baltimore Ravens home games, causing football players, fans, and even some grandfathers to drop their jaws. For whatever record any of us may keep, it is not only their physical beauty that attracts those who would know them but their gentle souls and the great goodness in their hearts. Chase got married in June, 2012. Paige got married August, 2013 With this dedication comes a deeply felt wish for lifetimes of happiness for these two pixies, the 'Chatty Chaser' and the 'Pickle Princess' and their wonderful husbands.
Other books by Billy Ray Chitwood
PHOENIX FIRE
(A beautiful love story
)
Mama's Madness
(Fiction inspired by true events)
Stranger Abduction
(Fiction inspired by true event)
The Reluctant Savage
(Fiction)
The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son
What Happens Next? A Life’s True Tale
(Non-Fiction)
Joe Public’s Political Perspective
(Non-Fiction)
'Bailey Crane' Mystery Series (Bks 1-6)
An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery – Bk 1
Satan's Song – A Bailey Crane Mystery – Bk 2
The Brutus Gate – A Bailey Crane Mystery – Bk 3
Murder in Pueblo del Mar – A Bailey Crane Mystery Bk 4
A Soul Defiled – A Bailey Crane Mystery – Bk 5
A Common Evil – A Bailey Crane Mystery - Bk 6
Visit author'swebsite
: http://www.goo.gl/nWMXm3
Follow on:
www.twitter.com/brchitwood
Chapter One
She was lost in the brightness, a magnificent static whiteness, alluring and warm. It was an easy place to be, if it was a place. Perhaps it was a state, a bright and new awareness, a safe and final destination.
She only knew that her essence was etched in the great luminous energy and she did not wish to leave it. The light seemed to be transporting her outward, expanding some awesome truth, recently possessed, and she wanted only to remain and to become whatever the promising ecstasy.
Then, there came a shimmer of interference, vaguely emanating from the mystic fringes, slowly fragmenting the weightless pool of white. There was a rippling which nudged her new awareness, gently precluding her anticipated oneness with the expanding light.
Then came sound, soft and beckoning, like a bird chirping in slow motion, becoming stronger and more strident. She resisted the sound and the fragmenting but she could not pull herself onward into the radiant void. Like a swimmer urgently breast stroking against a strong noiseless tide, she felt herself dipping, sinking, then free-falling from the disintegrating brilliance.
She became conscious of her head shaking in sidelong negation of the interference, her lips silently murmuring, ‘no, no, let me stay! Please let me stay!’
Then she acknowledged the inevitable full immersion back to a solid, contoured reality. The bird chirps became loud concerned voices. The ripples became caring and caressing hands.
The hard ground was cold. She began to shiver, felt the urge to rise, but was somehow constricted. Her mind made some adjustments and she suddenly knew where she was, how she had gotten there.
Finally, she slowly opened her eyes with a fluttery acceptance of her immediate environment. A man’s face came into focus, hovering two feet above her own. She felt pinned down and quickly discovered that the man was astride her. There was a momentary sense of panic but something about the man’s face made her relax.
A light rain fell, and she was conscious of wet hair matted to her face and forehead. The sky was a dull gray, and skinny treetops came to her peripherally as some surreal apparitions. The man’s concerned face gave her a final focus. She remembered what happened.
The lightning! She recalled an awful clap of thunder, so jarring and harsh, so totally upon her, instantaneously enveloping her in its loud and splintered brightness. She remembered the searing, exquisite pain that so consummately wracked her body and mind.
She was jogging and she must have been struck by lightning. As she blinked from the raindrops and the accounting of the lightning strike, she felt lethargic and without purpose. She was struck by lightning, yet there was no panic, no real sense of urgency.
The man’s hands left her chest and he studied her with a tender and squinted concern. She felt the weight of his body leaving her, felt a great rush of air fill her chest. The man lifted himself from her but his soft blue eyes remained upon her face.
They were beautiful eyes, shrouded by dark cavernous brows. Wisps of his black hair was pasted about his forehead, and he made odd movements with his lips as though making an adjustment.
Her own lips felt strangely tender to the touch of her tongue, and, in a moment of clarity, she understood: the man had given her mouth to mouth resuscitation.
The man then spoke, softly, his voice conveying a cultured refinement and pleasant resonance. “Can you move your arms and legs?”
She understood the question and lifted her head tentatively, feeling her hands, arms, and legs slowly move to her inner commands. She nodded to the handsome stranger who knelt above and to her side. She managed a small, sad smile of gratitude.
“And can you speak?” He returned her smile.
“Yes, I think so,” came her weak reply.
She noticed for the first time a small group of people standing off to her right, near a park utility shed. She heard a siren off in the distance, its sound increasing in volume. She attempted to rise from the ground.
“Maybe you should stay where you are until you’ve been medically checked. Are you feeling much pain?” The man lightly touched her shoulder.
As her powers of observation became more keen she noticed how the man was dressed. He wore faded red denim shorts, a powder blue sweat shirt which matched his eyes, white athletic socks, and Adidas jogging shoes. Her own ensemble of white shorts, blue top, white socks, and Nike shoes merged nicely with the man’s attire.
She answered the question. “No, I don’t think so, not pain so much. It’s sort of dull aching almost everywhere about my body. I think I’m okay. You’re very kind to help me. Thank you.”
“No ‘thanks’ necessary. It was kind of freaky the way that cloud exploded above us. You just got unlucky, and I suppose we could be faulted for jogging when a storm was brewing …”
The man stopped talking as he saw the flashing lights and heard the diminishing siren whirr of an approaching ambulance.
Uniformed EMTs rushed from the ambulance to the woman’s side, their faces intent and focused. She watched as they quickly set up equipment and prepared for various medical checks. She was beginning to feel confident that her body had not sustained any permanent damage, although some tingling sensations remained in her legs.
After all the medical tests were run, she heard an attendant announce that her vital signs were normal, that she was stable.
The visage of the handsome stranger stayed with her, after the ambulance attendants displaced him. The image of his dark hair wet against the brow stayed with her, even when he became a blur on the gray fringe of the rainy day crowd. His face stayed with her even beyond the hospital’s emergency room where she was pronounced hale, hearty, and lucky to be alive. His soft smile stayed even when she returned to her spacious Scottsdale condominium.