McIntyre Vincent

1. Auflage 2011
ISBN: 978-1-61792-248-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 467 Seiten

Vincent is a futuristic thriller set 100 years from present day. The story focuses on coming of age of a very special boy who has the ability to defy pain, puncture, and even death itself. Though not everyone wants Vincent to have these abilities. While dodging deadly conspirators and assassins, Vincent must ultimately decide if he is to use his abilities for good, or for evil. This is one fast paced, dialogue driven book you do not want to miss.

Autoren/Hrsg.

McIntyre, Dan

Leseproben

PROLOGUE

The city is not as it used to be. It used to be a horrendous place, lacking all things good and pleasant. It used to be a place where every man woman and child scraped at every morsel, and penny just to prolong his or her existence one more day. One might say it was a socialized prison, containing all the best and worst that mankind had to offer. It lacked honour, and it lacked heroes. It lacked order, and peace and provision. Any sense that things could have possibly been different had become a fool’s hope; a fleeting glimpse of humanity's backslide into chaos.

The city, in its great confining walls used to be a stronghold, a standoff between man and nature. It was a symbol of man's defeat and helplessness against the decaying planet.

But as I said, the city is not as it used to be, for you see, he changed everything.

A thick layer of dust and smog hung heavy in the air, concealing the night like a veil. Through that veil glints of light flashed and trailed along from high-rise windows, digital signage and the dense traffic below.

 A curious thing had begun happening in the city earlier that day, something quite astonishing actually. Somewhat like ants, it appeared that every man, woman and child in the vicinity had begun to descend upon a single location: Zespin Stadium, home of the Silverbacks. But for one to realize the extremity of the situation, one must only consider the stadium for what it was. Zespin was indeed the largest venue in the country, seating one hundred and twenty thousand spectators. The curious thing also, was that soccer was in the offseason. No performing act was this grand, no politician, or awards ceremony could have drawn this crowd. And it wasn't just the influx of people within the stadium that was mind-boggling; it was the millions that surrounded the building itself. It was the idea that every able man, woman, and child in the city was in attendance in some capacity.

The city was in complete and utter gridlock. The traffic jam could be seen from our moon, and would be documented as such via satellite. Even through that haze of smog and pollution, the light of Zespin, and the surrounding miles, could be seen far into the reaches of space.

The dazzling pitch of Zespin shined even more so, as a marching band of four thousand musicians took the pitch in decadent blue uniforms sounding their instruments loudly up to heaven as if hailing God, himself. Yes, the noise of the city was deafening, the loudest day in the history of man. Every shout or scream, every sounding bell, horn, string, or drum was all directed quite intentionally at Zespin stadium.

The city was a no-fly zone that day, all except for the three hundred F-18 fighter jets that circled the city, emitting multicoloured smoke and dazzling the spectators with stunts of arial magnificence. For this reason there could be no arial coverage of the event.

Right there in the midst of the millions of people arose a massive stage, erected at the north end or Zespin facing down the pitch to the masses. The stage floor was black at its base but had a walking surface layer of plexiglass atop it that glittered with twinkling lights along it's intersecting seams. Downstage arose three rectangles, seemingly composed of LED's. They stood much like buildings, each on larger than the last. The LED's lit up dazzling three-dimensional imagery of explosive graphic elements featuring brilliant blue cubes and crimson light rays. In behind the buildings stood an even larger backdrop that could best be described as a wall of lights, all accenting the scene. The foot of the stage was lined with powerful white searchlights, each one scanning the night air. The F-18's darted through like phantoms in their hazy beams, like bats or moths encroaching upon light.

Directly in front of the stage railing was a media pit of thousands of video cameras, and broadcasting booths. All the outgoing signals tied up every satellite, every host server, and cellular provider in the country. The system was so jammed` with live feed that one could barely get a text message out from their mobile device. It was safe to say that the attention of the country, and much of the world, was on this stage in Zespin Stadium.

Everyone eagerly awaited the announcement, and when it did come, it arrived with a thunderous sound so loud that man had never heard before.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Vincent, founder of the Triumphs!"

A booming voice punctured through the noise, every bit of it. The jets, the bands, the people, the music, were all defeated by the voice over the loudspeakers.

Vincent strode out from stage left, and walked at a moderate pace towards the centre of the stage, where a thin black podium was beginning to rise up out of the plexiglass along with a teleprompter. Each step he took excited the crowd more and more. His body grew warm from the stage lights, and his eyes were so blinded by camera flashes that he saw only white. For this reason his entrance walking line was marked with fourteen raised bumps that Vincent had previously learned to count out in his head for when he made his way to the podium,

He wore slim fitting dark denim jeans, a long-sleeved black sweater, with a black leather jacket overtop. The jacket however appeared reinforced with body formed plating and kevlar and had neoprene in the inseams. The jacket had a high collar, rising just shy of his chin. On the button side of the collar maybe a half-inch away from the seam was a small silver pin in the shape of a V. In addition to the tactically casual jacket, he also wore black gloves that appeared to consist of the same armour plating and neoprene material. His shoes were black, and polished, no special plating. It appeared almost curious that he would be so protected from only the waist up.

Vincent finally arrived at the podium and let out a large smile while slowly opening his eyes. He had an aura of friendliness about him, yet carried certain unpredictability in his dark eyes. Though he was not particularly tall, he was well built, even behind body armour, and stood at the podium with confidence and authority.

Curiously, Vincent was not as happy to be there, as perhaps everyone else was. He must have had to do this at least a hundred times but it still felt so incredibly strange. He felt like the victim of a tradition that he did not fully endorse.

The teleprompter mounted before him lit up. Tan writing began to scroll up on the pane of glass. It was time to begin the speech that he had prepared months prior.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen...people from around the world.” He felt millions of eyes upon him, both near and far from the stadium. “First off, thank you all for your generosity and good wishes this year.” Cheering erupted again, and he had to wait about a minute for it to subside long enough for him to continue.

“As many of you know, we now have Triumphs positioned in every country on earth, in nearly every large settlement within them. Effective as of earlier this year, our numbers are two million, eight hundred and thirty. With this proud achievement, we have witnessed a decline in statistic-based crime by nearly a quarter, compared to this time last year. Also, we have been able to raise two smaller cities from the seas, and launch several revitalization campaigns in the outlying sectors of New Zealand and Korea.” Explosive cheering erupted again, but this time Vincent didn't mind as much because it was pertaining to the Triumphs and their global efforts.

“There is still much work to be done, but I believe that with our combined efforts, yours and my own, we can make our homes and our world a better place to be. One day in the future, I hope that we will all see the true meaning of the word 'restoration' to this planet we call home."

That was it.

Vincent produced no self-flattery, no outlandish notions, just Triumph current events. That was really all that he enjoyed publicly communicating these days. Everything else was just too humiliating and obvious. It didn't really matter what he would have said though...the love of the people remained quite constant.

After a few more minutes of noise and blinding camera flashes, a man came from stage right wearing a grey suit and an obnoxiously loud purple and yellow tie. The man fanned out his arms as he walked, proceeding to the podium where he lightly hip checked Vincent to the side. The crowd grew even louder, screaming in glee with this man's appearance next to Vincent. However unlike Vincent, this man was very much absorbed in the spectacle.

After a few moments of egging on the crowd, Vincent felt the man's hand cup his shoulder as he shouted loudly into Vincent's ear "I don't envy you one bit, pal!"

“Thank you, thank you! Good evening ladies and gentlemen!” The man in the grey suit instantly captivated the crowd. Vincent guessed that this man must have been some sort of television personality, no doubt a comic of sorts.

“I'm glad to have been given the honour to host this year! But of course, when Jimmy Pereira is out of town they gotta give the job to somebody right?”

The entire stadium seemed to let out a chuckle. Indeed it was astonishing to witness such a great sea of people moving and reacting as one.

“Well, there he is… just look at him…” The man narrowed his eyes towards Vincent, who now stood a few feet away from the commandeered podium. Vincent felt for a moment like an auction item, reluctant and old. Perhaps this host was not the type of man Vincent would share kind words with out of the public eye.

“In all...