THORIUM

THORIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

 

 

“Hi, Honey, I’m home,” Dave said, walking through his front door after work. He kissed his wife and toddler son, tossing little Dave’s blonde, curly locks.

“Need anything from the fridge while I get my beer?” Dave asked.

“Yes, I’ll have a Guinness with you, it’s been a long, exhausting day,” Carly said.

Dave opened the refrigerator door, retrieved two pint-sized cans, and closed the door in record time to keep the cold air inside. He performed this ritual automatically. The days of opening the refrigerator door for several seconds while debating what to eat or drink felt like a lifetime ago.

“What happened today? And why are so many lights on?” Dave asked, trying to hold back his anger at the blatant waste of their precious electricity ration.

“It’s Little, Dave. He can reach the light switch standing on his tippy toes. He thinks it’s fun to turn them on, but he’s not tall enough to turn them back off,” Carly said.

“Do you have any idea how much electricity is used when you leave a light on? That’s why we have the battery powered lanterns and flashlights,” Dave said.

“I’m sorry, I’ll tape them down or something so he won’t do it again. It’s impossible to explain to a two-year old why we can’t waste electricity by leaving the lights on,” Carly said.

“We need most of our monthly kilowatt allotment to charge my electric car every night so I can drive to work. We’re all making sacrifices during this energy crisis,” Dave said.

“I had to use the last of our gas in my car to take little Dave to the doctor today,” Carly said, fighting back the tears as she waited for her husband’s inevitable wrath.

“What? You drove your car today and used up our gas. We can’t fill up the tank until next week. What were you thinking? Now you can’t be with your mother during her chemotherapy tomorrow, ” Dave said.

Little Dave began to cry at the sound of his daddy’s loud voice. He ran to his mommy and clung to her legs for protection.

“It’s okay, Little Dave,” Carly cooed into her son’s ear as she scooped him up into her loving, protective arms. She used every ounce of willpower to restrain herself from screaming at her husband for yelling in front of their son.

“For your information, Dave’s asthma flared up today from his cold. I took him to the emergency room because he could barely breathe. They gave him Prednisone and several breathing treatments to save his life. Don’t you ever scream at me in front of our son ever again. And stop treating me like a child every time I use the car. It’s not like I go shopping or get my nails done with it. I only drive when absolutely necessary,” Carly said. Her maternal instincts took over, evident in the seriousness of her tone and evil look in her eye.

“Woah, chill woman, I’ve never seen you look so angry before. I’m sorry I yelled at you and I’m sorry for second guessing your judgment. It’s been such a hard year for all of us,” Dave said. He walked to his wife and took her into his arms, embracing her with a strong hug.

“Daddy, you’re squishing me,” Little Dave said, looking up at his parents in tears.

“Oh, time for the news,” Carly said.

She turned on the battery-powered radio, praying for good news today. She couldn’t remember the last time she watched television or cooked on the stove. She felt like they permanently camped in their house using only battery powered lights and cooking their meals outside on the charcoal grill.

“This breaking news just in. Scientists at the Thorium-based nuclear reactor in New York always believed the energy stored in the earth’s thorium reserves is greater than what is available from all other fossil and nuclear fuels combined. The major strides in their exhaustive research efforts finally succeeded today. The bottom line is, we now have an abundant, inexpensive, clean source of energy. We will never need to rely on another country for our energy needs ever again. Effective immediately, the gas rations are now lifted, along with the electricity kilowatt allotment,” the newscaster said.

“Oh, my God, the energy crisis is over,” Carly screamed with excitement.

She jumped up and down and hugged her husband and son tightly. Tears of happiness poured down her cheeks because their prayers, along with millions of other Americans, were finally answered. Thorium, named after the Norse God of Thunder, saved them all.

Just then, the sound of thunder crackled the sky, a sign from the heavens above.

MAGNESIUM

MAGNESIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

“We must be getting close, I see the magnesium veins in the rock walls,” Victoria said. She led her boyfriend/colleague down a labyrinth cave system outside of Paris, France.

“Let’s be careful, we don’t want to ignite this mine,” Tommy said. His sandy-blonde hair glowed in the beam of light from Victoria’s headlight. His untamed curls framed his handsome, green-eyed face.

“We’re fine, we’re using battery powered lights, not gasoline lanterns,” Victoria said. She pointed to the light on her headband covering her long dark hair.

They came to a mining tunnel and stared incredulously at the low height.

“Why would they make such short tunnels? We’re going to have to crawl through on our hands and knees,” Tommy said.

“I thought you liked me on my knees,” Victoria smiled, teasing her man.

“You owe me a back rub later for making me hunch over like Quasimodo to get down here,” Tommy said. He smiled suggestively at Victoria, winking at the recollection of prior rub downs and where they often led.

Tommy stared into Victoria’s ice-blue eyes and couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, than cave exploring with his beautiful girlfriend and fellow archaeologist.

They crawled through the shaft for a hundred yards. Just as Victoria felt claustrophobic, the tunnel opened up to a large cavern. Victoria stood upright again and brushed the debris off of her toned limbs.

The cavern appeared as is if someone currently mined it. The scaffolding and ladders went from the floor to the fifty-foot ceiling.

Tommy shined his flashlight along the cavern walls, its beams bounced off of its treasure like tiny prisms.

“Are those?” Victoria asked.

“Diamonds,” Tommy said, finishing her sentence. He retrieved a small chisel from his excavation kit and tapped at the rock surrounding the precious gem. A diamond as big as his fist dropped into his eager hands.

“Incredible, look at all of them. The diamonds I can see in the room alone must be worth a billion Euros,” Victoria said.

“I never knew such an abundant supply existed, and in France,” Tommy said.

“I wonder who owns all of this? They must be withholding to avoid flooding the market and deflating the price of diamonds,” Victoria said.

“You know, I think I know who owns this, assuming the land owners above also own the mineral rights. Look at what is located directly above us,” Tommy said. He handed Victoria his hand-held, techie-nerd GPS device.

“We’re right below Euro Disney,” Victoria said.

“I feel bad for stealing from a mouse. But this will fund our digs for the rest of our lives,” Tommy said as he pocketed the diamond.

“Shhh, I hear something,” Victoria said. She ducked behind a mining cart and hid from the intruder. She grabbed Tommy’s strong bicep and yanked him down beside her.

“Oh, crap! Who are these men? They look like, no, it can’t be,” Tommy said. His chiseled-jaw dropped to the floor, along side Victoria’s.

They stared incredulously as a group of miners entered the gem mine. Their short stature and bearded faces made them look comical, yet familiar. They sang a catchy tune as they started their work shift.

“They’re dwarves,” Tommy said, without taking his eyes off of the unique, yet unmistakable workers before him.

“This explains the short height of the mining tunnels and scaffolding. They look just like…” Victoria said, cut off by Tommy’s words.

“I know, only there’s more than seven working here today,” Tommy said.

Victoria and Tommy watched the dutiful dwarves arrive to start their shift. They grabbed their pickaxes and prepared for their day digging diamonds and precious gems out of the rocks beneath Euro Disney outside of Paris, France.

They continued singing the familiar song in unison “Hi Ho….”

WATER

WATER

By: Terri Talley Venters

　

Minerva awoke to the soothing sounds of the sea, just as she did each morning. As an early riser, she thrived on the solitude of her early morning swim. She meandered through the palace as her family slumbered. Arriving at the terrace, she jettisoned herself into the peaceful serenity of the open water.

She began her routine at mach speed, waking her body and mind up as her lithe form cut through the water like a spear. Feeling invigorated from the aqua sprint, she dove towards the depths of the sea.

She swam at the ocean bottom, admiring the tiny seahorses with their tails wrapped around the plant branches. The sand, undisturbed, sparkled as the rays of the morning sun breached the water's surface, illuminating the ocean floor.

Minerva froze, spotting a great white shark a hundred yards away. She prayed the carnivorous creature wouldn’t sense her presence. He appeared occupied with a bloody carcass at the surface. Her eyes scanned the surface above her as more sharks joined the great white and his feeding frenzy.

A dark shadow loomed over her, blocking sun’s rays. Scared, Minerva looked up, knowing the shadow’s source before she verified the terrifying object above her--a boat.

She swam away and headed home, wishing she’d never left the safety of Atlantis. But a wall of rope came towards her, it extended from the surface to the floor with its sides angled towards her.

She knew the dangers of the net; she’d witnessed it capture her fellow Atlantians. She retreated backwards, away from the dangers of mankind’s fishing net. She sensed a presence behind her. Fearful, she turned to face yet another enemy, the great white shark.

The enormous creature swam towards Minerva, trapping her between the net and his carnivorous intentions. He lunged towards her, but missed her in his closed-eye frenzy. She darted around the great beast, never taking her eyes off of the predator. She realized her mistake as the ropes of the net caught her fin.

The shark floated away in retreat, thus avoiding the net. But Minerva saw the net close around her struggling form. She stopped wiggling as the hopelessness sank in. Tears flowed as the net lifted her up towards the surface.

Crunched together with a mixture of fish, she saw the morning sun as the net rose Minerva out of the water and onto the wooden deck of the fishing boat.

“Captain, we’ve caught a mermaid!”

LEAD

LEAD

By: Terri Talley Venters

 

Roy’s palm sweated as he held the pistol in his hand. He stood in the dark alley, adorned in his finest suit and top hat. He stood back-to-back with his opponent and waited. Waited to live or waited to die?

He recalled the events of the evening and regretted his actions. He shouldn’t have challenged Sir Thomas. Roy’s adversary proved himself the finest shot in South Carolina. But unfortunately, Thomas proved himself many times in this very alley and sent a handful of Charleston’s finest gentlemen to an early grave.

But as a gentleman, Roy faced no other choice. Thomas said the unthinkable and insulted the honor of Roy’s fiancée, Sarah. Roy immediately defended Sarah’s honor and challenged the English nobleman to a duel.

“Gentleman, begin,” Roy’s best friend and “second” said.

Roy started pacing away from Sir Thomas.

One, two, three…

Time stood still as he paced to his death or paced to his victory? He thought about running down the alley and disappearing into the dim light of the breaking dawn. He’d live, but endure the brand of a coward for the rest of his life.

Four, five, six, seven…

He contemplated turning around early to fire on his opponent. He needed to outsmart the Englishman, but cheating would only lead him to the gallows to be hung for murder.

Eight, nine, ten!

Roy stepped wide to the left and quickly turned around. He pointed the pistol at Sir Thomas and fired with confidence. He watched Thomas fly backwards in the air and into the brick wall of the alley, landing dead with a lead bullet in his chest.

160 years later

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, look,” David said.

The eight-year old jumped up and down excitedly as he pointed towards the brick wall of Philadelphia Alley in Charleston, South Carolina, also known as “Bloody Alley”.

“What is it, Honey?” the mother asked.

“I just saw a ghost,” David said.

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she said, shaking her head incredulously at the active imagination of her son.

“But the man said,” David said, referring to the ghost tour guide.

“He just said that to scare little boys and gullible tourists. You didn’t see anything,” she said.

“But, mom, I did. I saw a black shadow float across the alley and disappear into the wall,” David said, pointing to the digital camera.

“Were you taking pictures again?” the mother asked.

“Yes, Mommy,” he said.

He clicked the camera into view mode and tapped the back arrow. He held the camera up high so they could view the pictures together.

“You took a video,” she said, impressed with her son’s technical gadget skills.

David tapped on the play arrow of the camera to start playing the video he'd just recorded of the alleyway. They watched in unison as the dark shadow of a man in a top hat flew back into the wall.

Carbon Copy

By:

Terri Talley Venters

Lilly Allen, NYC reporter, has brains, beauty, and a trust fund. She hopes the love of her life, Grier, will propose soon. Lilly has it all, or so she thinks.

Grier Garrison, Create Life executive, is running the company while his father, Dr. Michael Garrison, awaits a heart transplant. Grier knows the truth about Create Life and its shady side business. He fears that Lilly and her twin brother, Luke, are in danger.

While working on two unrelated news stories, stolen newborns and cloning, Lilly discovers a shocking connection. Horrific things are happening, but who is behind it all?



Coming soon from
www.WildChildPublishing.com

CALIFORNIUM

CALIFORNIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

Sophia bolted upright in bed as the room shook around her. The light fixtures rattled and the pictures fell from the walls. She peered out her window overlooking the Pacific Ocean and Pebble Beach, California. Everything appeared normal on the west side of her home on the famous Seventeen Mile Drive.

“Danny, get up! It’s another earthquake,” she said. She nudged her lazy husband and ignored his reluctant groans.

“It’s not even a 5.0, go back to bed Sophia,” he said. He rolled over and placed the pillow over his ears to block out the sounds of his nagging wife.

“Listen to my Irish immigrant. You’ve lived here a year and think you’re a native. I’ve lived in California my whole life and this is it. This is the ‘Big One’, ” she said, making finger air quotes.

“Oh, alright,” Danny said.

He climbed out of bed and pulled his flannel pajama bottoms over his tanned legs. He clicked on the remote control and watched their big screen light up to Fox News. He rotated the enormous flat screen towards the sliding glass door, allowing them to view it from the outside.

Sophia put on her silken robe and walked out unto the first floor terrace. They stood safely outside as they heard the shocking news report.

“A 12.0 Earthquake hit greater Los Angeles this morning. After shocks are reported as far north as Vancouver, and as far south as Baja. This is the ‘Big One’ predicted by geologists,” the newswoman said.

“We should be okay this far north,” Danny said. He wrapped his arm around Sophia to comfort her.

“Tsunamis,” she said, staring at the ocean.

“This cliff is at least 200 feet high. We’ll be fine on high ground,” she said.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Sophia turned to Danny, her face turned white with fear. The earth trembled beneath their feet. “What was that horrific sound?” she asked.

“I don’t know, it sounded like thunder, but only from the ground,” Danny said.

They whipped their heads back towards the television.

“The San Andreas fault is shifting along the entire coast of California. The western plate is moving towards the Pacific,” the newswoman said.

The live aerial footage showed the enormous crack in the earth’s surface. It moved like a lightning bolt and crackled like thunder. The crack widened as the western side of the fault floated towards the Pacific.

The television turned black as the power failed.

“The geologists were right. They said when the “Big One” hit, half of California would fall into the Pacific Ocean,” Sophia said.

Sophia and Danny held hands as they watched the earth beneath them drift away from the Continental United States and fall into the sea.

AIR

AIR

Cornelius stood guard at the Biltmore Estate in Ashville, North Carolina. He sat in his usual spot, perched on the rooftop, guarding the west entrance of the estate. Thousands of tourists traversed the long hallways each day to gawk at the Gilded-age opulence of the largest, privately-owned home in the United States.

Cornelius protected the estate with over a hundred others. He took his duties seriously. He and his coworkers never moved an inch during their twelve hour work shifts. But staying perfectly still proved easier than expected, especially since Cornelius recently turned one-hundred years of age.

As the next group of tourists appeared on the rooftop, Cornelius noticed a child who appeared about eight-years-old.

The small boy held his Mother’s hand, pointed at the guard and asked, “Look at that one, Mommy, why is he so ugly?”

“Michael, sweetheart, it’s not polite to point and say mean words,” the boy’s mother said, rolling her eyes, incredulous of the words pouring from her child’s mouth.

“It’s okay, Mommy, he can’t hear me,” Michael said, looking up at his mother to make his point.

“I know baby, but let’s practice our good manners just the same,” she said.

“Can we walk to the edge with Daddy and look? Please?” Michael asked, pleading with his pout lower lip.

“No, Michael, Mommy is too scared to look over the edge. I don’t know why your father insisted we take the rooftop tour with a small child. It’s so windy, and I’m terrified you’ll blow right off the edge,” she said, squeezing Michael’s hand.

“Please notice all of the gargoyles perched along the rooftop of the Biltmore. Each one is different, and some even boast voluptuous breasts like this one here,” the tour guide said, pointing towards the female gargoyle. She gave the men a few seconds to admire the taut nipples of the statue and shoot a few perverted pictures before continuing with the tour.

“Some gargoyles are used as waterspouts to divert the rain water, while other serve as guards to protect the estate. I’ve worked at the Biltmore for over thirty years. And every so often, I notice the gargoyles are perched in a slightly different spot than they were the day before,” the guide said.

“How do the gargoyles switch places,” Michael asked.

“Magic,” the guide said, smiling as she tossed the sandy blonde hair of the adorable blue-eyed boy.

Cornelius refrained from chuckling at the tour guide’s comment. He’d noticed it too. The gargoyles did appear in different places on occasion. But while the guide found it magical and amusing, it infuriated Cornelius.

Cornelius heard the sound of wings flapping and cursed silently because he knew the noise belonged to a pigeon. Those damn “rats with wings” proved the bane of his existence because they were stupid, loud, dirty, and pooped everywhere. He crossed his fingers, and prayed the pigeon pooped in a territory belonging to another guard. The last thing Cornelius wanted was to clean pigeon poop after his shift ended.

“Mommy, look. The toes on the gargoyle just moved,” Michael said, pointing.

“No, Honey, you’re imagining things. Gargoyles can’t move because they’re statues guarding the estate,” the mother said.

“But the lady said sometimes the gargoyles switch places,” Michael said.

“Why do you listen to the tour guide and not me when I tell you to clean your room. She merely teased when she said the gargoyles switched places," the mother said.

“But I saw…” Michael said.

“It’s just your overactive imagination. Come on let’s go. Mommy and Daddy are anxious for the wine tasting at the winery,” the mother said, pulling Michael away.

The group of tourists exited the rooftop for the last tour of the day. Dusk loomed ahead and Cornelius looked forward to the end of his long shift. Although his duties at the Biltmore Estate seemed important, the job itself felt easy. But sitting in the same place twelve hours a day for the last one-hundred years proved exhausting.

After the sun set and the darkness of the night settled in, Cornelius watched the last of the tourists and the guides leave the Biltmore, shutting down for the night. Cornelius breathed an enormous sigh of relief. His stomach growled with hunger as he contemplated what to eat for dinner--venison, lamb, beef, game or fish?

Tonight he felt like dining alone. His tough day guarding the rooftop put him in a foul mood. He felt antisocial and hoped none of the other guards took offense for his craving solitude for a few hours. He could always meet up with the others later.

Cornelius watched the last of the Biltmore workers vacate the grounds until sunrise tomorrow morning. He wiggled his toes and rolled his shoulders to help alleviate the cramping in his limbs from sitting perched all day on the rooftop without a single break.

When the coast looked clear, Cornelius, the gargoyle, extended his wings. He jumped off of the Biltmore rooftop and flapped his powerful wings through the air, flying into the darkness of the night.