Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Tortures of the DamnedBy HUNTER SHEAKENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.Copyright © 2015 Hunter SheaAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-0-7860-3477-2CHAPTER 1The trio of explosions ripped the biting January night air in two. Daniel Padilla was dozing between commercials when the sky exploded. He bolted from his recliner, as did his wife, meeting in the middle of the living room."I think the furnace exploded," Elizabeth shouted, balling her fists tight at her sides."We wouldn't be standing here if it did," Daniel shot back. A framed picture of the family at last summer's picnic at Orchard Beach crashed to the floor, making them jump. That last explosion shook everything in the house.Footsteps thumped above them. The kids ran down the stairs."Mom, Dad, did something just blow up?" Rey asked. His youngest brother, Miguel, clung to his leg.Daniel motioned with his hands for them all to calm down. "I'm going to check outside. It sounded like a plane. Everyone just sit tight."Max, Gabriela, and Miguel crowded around Elizabeth on the couch. Gabby's cheeks were smeared with tears, her stuffed koala, Cody, tucked under her arm.He ran to the closet and threw on the first coat he found. It was a track jacket that belonged to his middle son, Max. It was a size too big for Daniel, but it would do."I'm coming with you," Rey said, slipping into the sneakers that he kept by the front door. He must have been lying in bed listening to his iPod because his short, jet-black hair was flattened on one side. His earbuds dangled around his neck.There was no sense arguing. Rey was a senior in high school now. Some days he was more man than boy. "Okay," Daniel said.The frigid air stung his face and shocked his lungs when he opened the door. Lights were on in every house in the neighborhood. A good number of porches were filled with people searching the sky.No one spoke.There wasn't a sound to be heard. Even the wind had stopped. Daniel didn't feel the powdery snow around his bare feet.He looked up and down the street and over the houses opposite them. With his high front porch, he had a clear sight line to the Bronx border. All he saw were stars blinking in a clear, black sky.When Rey spoke, Daniel's heart did a triple beat. "How come there aren't any sirens?"He was right. Whatever had happened sounded as if something massive had been blown to bits. The screech of police, fire engine, and ambulance sirens should be echoing around them."I don't know. Go inside and see if there's anything on the news."It was still a half hour until the eleven o'clock news, but Daniel was sure this would be breaking news on the local channels.Buck, his next-door neighbor, was on his tiny porch dressed in full winter gear and wearing his cowboy hat. He was a solid guy in his early sixties with, as he himself claimed, a body made by good beer and medium-rare steaks. "Holy shit, Dan. What the hell do you think that was?"The silence was becoming more disturbing than the initial blasts. Daniel wiped a sweaty palm over his face. "I have no clue, Buck. I thought for sure it was another plane going down."They'd both worked in lower Manhattan on 9-11. Neither would ever forget the sounds those planes made when they hit the Towers."I'm gonna call a friend of mine on the force," Buck said. "I'll come over and let you know what he says. In the meantime, you might want to put something on your feet."Daniel looked down at his snow-covered feet. The sight finally made him feel the cold. He shook each foot, flicking snowflakes, and went back into the house.CHAPTER 2"There's nothing on TV," Elizabeth said to Daniel the moment he stepped back inside. She was worrying at her auburn curls, twisting the strands tightly around her fingers."What about the radio? Sometimes they're quicker."Max held up the small transistor radio Daniel kept around to listen to Mets games when he worked in the garage. Puttering around, fixing things, and getting covered by grease and grime was always made better by baseball, even when the Mets lost—which was more times than most. "I've been listening to every station, but all they have is commercials or guys talking about politics."Daniel took the radio and ruffled his hair. "Buck is calling one of his cop friends. I wonder if it was an earthquake."Elizabeth stroked Gabby's hair, keeping her calm. "Remember the one in the eighties?" she said. "I was staying at my grandparents' house in the Bronx with my brother when it happened. My grandfather came rushing out of the bedroom in a panic. He thought the old boiler had exploded, too. When the house had started rumbling, my brother woke up and immediately shouted, 'Earthquake!' He pulled me to the doorway between the living room and dining room. I thought he was crazy at the time, but he was the only one who knew exactly what was happening.""But it sounded like it came from above us," Rey said. He flipped through every channel, looking for any kind of news report."It was hard to tell," Daniel said. "It happened so fast. And it was so loud.""Are we going to be all right?" Miguel asked in his high, quiet voice. He sat with his knees pulled close to his chest, his big, brown eyes watching, waiting for cues to panic or calm down.Daniel sat next to him and pulled him onto his lap. "Of course we are. You're all right now, aren't you?"He reluctantly nodded his head."And that's just the way you're going to stay," Daniel said, kissing his forehead."Do you promise, Dad?" Gabby asked, reaching out for him. He held her hand atop his wife's belly."I promise, pumpkin. It was just a loud noise. Now I'm just curious what caused it. There's nothing to be afraid of. In fact, we might as well make a little party out of it. Why don't you, Miguel, and Max go in the kitchen and make us all ice cream sundaes?"Gabby's eyes lit up. "Really?"Elizabeth gave him a warning look. "Dan, it's late."He kissed her cheek. "They don't have school tomorrow. I think ice cream is exactly what we all need."She saw the hidden message in his gaze. Anything to take their minds off it. She sighed and nudged Gabby off the couch. "Make mine with extra cherries," she said.The kids tramped to the kitchen, Max hanging back, visibly upset that he, their fourteen-year-old, had been lumped in with Gabby and Miguel. Someone had to keep relative order in the kitchen. Not to mention, Max's stomach was a bottomless pit. He practically lived with his head in the refrigerator. The clanking of bowls and spoons rang out, along with cabinet doors opening and closing.The local news started, and Rey turned the sound up.They began with a days-old story about a train derailment in lower Connecticut. Daniel put his arm around Elizabeth. She could feel the tension in his taut muscles. Four stories later, there was no mention of the explosions. They teased a story about one of the Kardashians and went to commercial."That doesn't make sense," Rey said. He changed to the other two local stations. No one was talking about it."Maybe they need time to get the reporters on the scene," Elizabeth said.Daniel shook his head. "Maybe. But you'd think in this day and age ..."Rey put the remote on the coffee table and dove into his phone. "I'll see if anyone's talking about it on Twitter or Facebook."That was a damn good idea. Daniel was always amazed by how resilient his kids could be. He'd never think of doing something like that. Then again, he only used social media sparingly to promote his business. He wasn't one for sharing pictures or broadcasting to the world when he was going to the gym.The doorbell rang."That must be Buck," Daniel said, rising from the couch.CHAPTER 3Buck Clarke strode into the house, larger than life. His sizable beer gut hung well over his belt. He had to duck as he walked through the foyer to avoid tipping his hat off his head."Fucking fireworks," he announced. "Can you believe it?"Daniel watched Elizabeth bite her lip. He'd learned long ago there was no sense asking Buck to tone it down because kids were around. Buck was what Buck was."That didn't sound anything like fireworks," Daniel said."My buddy said someone got ahold of professional-grade fireworks, loaded them in several steel drums over in an abandoned lot in Mount Vernon, and set them off, one after the other. He said the concussion blew out windows for a ten-block radius.""Is your friend with the Mount Vernon Police?" Rey asked."Nah. He's a state trooper. They all talk to each other.""But we didn't hear any sirens," Daniel said.Buck's eyebrows went as high as they could go. "That's because it happened way the hell on the other side of Mount Vernon. Guess we're out of range."Gabby and the boys came in carrying bowls of ice cream smothered in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and cherries."Do you want a sundae, Buck?" she asked.He gave a short laugh and scratched his stomach. "I'd love to, but Alexiana might kill me if I came home with ice cream on my collar. That sure does look good, though."Elizabeth got off the couch and stood close to Buck and Daniel. "How come it isn't on the news? I mean, it shook the whole house."Buck shook his head. He spoke lower. "I'm just as suspicious as you are. Fireworks don't make much sense to me, either. The little news blackout doesn't make it easier to swallow. I believe what my buddy tells me, but for all I know, he's being fed a line of horseshit.""I don't think we'll be sleeping for a while," Elizabeth said. "Hopefully someone says something soon."Buck turned to leave."I'll keep my ear to the ground. Just remember, don't believe everything you see and hear."CHAPTER 4All was revealed the next day on the morning edition of the news. As Buck had said, the cause of the massive explosions was fireworks. Channel 4 News panned around the empty lot, rotted lumber sticking out from mounds of black and yellow snow. The camera settled on the twisted remains of a green ash can. Brightly colored police tape kept the news crews from trampling the scene."Elizabeth, look," Daniel said through a mouthful of bagel. He pointed at the small TV screen tucked away in a corner of the kitchen counter."Shouldn't there be more than one?" Elizabeth asked.He shrugged his shoulders."Maybe the others are totally destroyed or the police took them for evidence. They said it could be heard all the way up to Connecticut and as far east as Long Island."The exceedingly cold reporter with red, cracked lips talked about the local damage to windows—both car and home—and how the 911 lines were jammed with calls. For residents in the area, it sounded and felt like a main gas line explosion or an earthquake.Elizabeth poured a cup of coffee in her BEST MOM EVER mug. Miguel and Gabby had made it for her last Mother's Day from a kit Daniel bought them in the supermarket. "I hope they catch the cabrón who did it. That scared the hell out of the kids. Miguel talked my ear off until three. I heard you snoring down the hall the entire time."She gave him a playful slap on the back of his head."I think that ice cream made me crash."Elizabeth wagged a finger at him. "That's what happens to middle-aged men. Your kids, however, got a nice sugar high."When the kids came down for breakfast, Daniel explained what had happened and let them watch one of the reports. By the time they got to the mall later that morning, all was forgotten.For Miguel and Gabby, it would simply be remembered as the night they had ice cream sundaes before bed.CHAPTER 5Rey's favorite season was the spring, and not for the usual reasons such as the renewal of life, warmer weather, or it being a prelude to summer, which meant two months without school.Spring was when he tagged along with his friend Nick after school to the paddocks at Yonkers Raceway. Nick's father was a horse trainer. He'd worked at Yonkers, Monticello, and Freehold since he was around Rey's age. When spring came, he allowed the boys to help him out every now and then. Stalls needed to be shoveled, new hay thrown down, horses had to be fed and groomed.With senior year coming to a merciful end—Rey was not one thinking high school was the best years of his life—he and Nick were on an early dismissal schedule. That gave them more time to spend at the track. In just a couple of weeks, school would be over and he could come here every day. There was even the promise of being paid this summer. That money would come in handy to buy books when he started at Fordham University in the fall.Today, Nick's father was working with three horses: Bam-Bam Hanover, Shining Shamrock, and Run Scotty Run. The names sounded absurd, but they came out like music when the announcer called the races.The paddocks were bustling. Almost every stall was full. Men and horses were in constant motion. The smell of sweet hay did little to mask the heavy, clinging odors of sweat and road apples. Rey's mother hated when he went to the track. She said he made the whole house smell like a barn. His father, on the other hand, was glad to see he'd taken such an interest. "Boys can get into far worse things at his age," he'd tell his mother.He was right. Most seventeen-year-olds in Rey's class spent their time smoking weed, Snapchatting ridiculous stunts or naked-ass shots, or having "Skype sex" when they weren't actually messing around with any girl who would give them the time of day. Three girls in his class had gotten pregnant this year. Two dropped out. One said she didn't give a shit what people thought and was proud to have her baby, even though the father, a sophomore, refused to even acknowledge it was his.Here he was, feeding Bam-Bam some carrots, feeling the sun warm the back of his neck. A little stink was a fair trade-off."Slow down, Bam-Bam. You'll give yourself a stomachache."The black-maned, chestnut stallion snorted, blowing Rey's hair from his forehead."Gee, thanks. Your breath could melt wallpaper."Nick's father walked by, leading Run Scotty Run by his bridle. "Got another one for you and Nick in a few minutes."Rey waved a hand to swat away a cyclone of flies. "Got it."He patted Bam-Bam's nose and double-checked to make sure he had enough fresh water.Now he just had to find Nick. Odds were, he'd be hovering around the race office, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dakota, the hot secretary who had all the guys in heat. Rey laughed. As if Nick even had a shot.The piercing screech of tires spinning on asphalt brought Bam-Bam and most of the other horses into hysterics. Trotters were notoriously high-strung. An unexpected loud noise like that easily set them on edge.Someone yelled, "Hey, who the hell did that?"In seconds, it was pandemonium.Bam-Bam reared on his hind legs with a high-pitched whinny."It's okay. It's okay," Rey said to the horse, keeping his voice as calm as possible.All he could see was the white of Bam-Bam's eyes.Rey tripped backward as he desperately attempted to move out from under the massive, frightened animal.CHAPTER 6The bus ride home from School 7 always felt like it took hours to Gabby. Going to school was the opposite. She'd barely have time to tell her friend Cynthia about last night's episode of American Idol before the dreaded, big brick building loomed outside the bus doors.Today was worse than ever. Her mother had promised to take her out to look for a dress for this Friday's daddy-daughter dance. She couldn't wait to try on dresses and shoes, and if she was lucky, she could convince her mom she needed the new Selena Gomez perfume. Cynthia got a bottle for Christmas, and Gabby had been green with envy ever since.The bus was its usual riotous self. Ed, the bus driver, was deaf in one ear and didn't mind the noise. He was one of the few cool grown-ups."Do you know what color you want?" Cynthia asked.A stray ball of paper bounced off the top of Gabby's hair, landing on Timmy Doyle behind her. He whizzed it over her head, just missing Jerry Adams."Definitely purple," Gabby replied, ignoring the paper war. "I saw this awesome dress in a Forever 21 catalog."Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "They only sell clothes for teens and adults, Gabby. They won't have dresses in your size at Forever 21."That's exactly what her mother had said to her. Gabby remained confident. She might be ten, but she was tall for her age."You'll see," she said to her friend.The bus crashed into a pothole and the girls bounced in their seats. All of the kids gave a cheer. Some shouted for Ed to do it again. The old bus groaned in reply.Gabby checked her watch. Still at least twenty minutes until her stop.Come on, come on. Why couldn't this be a day when a lot of kids were sick and there were less stops?Her little brother, Miguel, came up the aisle, swaying from side to side in rhythm with the bus's overworked suspension. (Continues...)Excerpted from Tortures of the Damned by HUNTER SHEA. Copyright © 2015 Hunter Shea. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
