Waves of Fury (Surviving Earth Chronicles)

Chapter One

Kellen

I t’s the end of the world today.

At least that’s what the glossy, smiling daily morning show host says in between giving us healthy Keto-friendly recipes and the latest celebrity gossip, followed by an “important” commercial break about dishwashing detergent.

I’ve lived my entire life waiting for the world to end. And each day, I’m still here, nothing catastrophically erasing my existence from my self-made prison.

Some men would kill to be in my so-called cell. A tower in the heart of the San Francisco Financial District overlooking the glittery bay that’s dotted with boats of all shapes and sizes. My office is bigger than some people’s homes—a wide corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows offering the best views in the bay area.

And yet, it still feels lacking.

My entire life is underwhelming and boring despite my perceived success.

I’m drawn back to the TV that hangs on one solid wall in my office. The news is back on with reports of seismic activity in the Yellowstone area. Though it’s not uncommon, it’s garnered the attention of national news, which means the moon maniacs or moonies will load up their RVs and head to the source of the action.

Pathetic.

Unlike the moonies, I sit firmly in the other camp. Skeptics. My earliest memory is of my mother telling me stories of how the big asteroid named Gertrude hit the moon back in the summer of ’73. She’d told me the repercussions of the damages to our gravitational pull would be felt for years to come, ultimately taking out the Earth and all its life with it.

I’m forty now. Still waiting on the supposed apocalypse.

“…and the White House urges everyone to remain calm. Don’t panic buy toilet paper like you all did in 2020.” The newswoman chuckles and waggles a finger at her cohost. “I’m looking at you, Ted.”

I take notice of the “special alert” ribbon running across the bottom of the screen.

Austin, TX and Shreveport, LA both experienced moderate earthquakes in the early hours of the morning. No injuries reported. Some damages to roads and buildings. Austin reported 5.3 and Shreveport reported 5.9 magnitudes.

Thoughts of Texas bring images of my brother to mind. Little Knox. Well, at twenty-eight, he’s obviously not so little anymore, especially after a decade of working the ranch with Dad.

I miss Knox. Miss what we could have had if our father weren’t such a cruel prick whom I couldn’t get away from fast enough.

Austin isn’t the only city in Texas to be having their fair share of unusual activity. The entire state has had alarming, abnormal seismic activity. Internet reports have been claiming that dormant volcanoes are coming back to life—stemming from Yellowstone’s super volcano activity—which is something they’ve been continually monitoring. But volcanoes in Texas? Sounds a bit far-fetched and reaching to me. I still haven’t concluded whether or not the reports came from moonies or not.

If Knox were in trouble, though, he’d call me.

Right?

He would. I know he would.

“Kellen?” Frannie chirps as she enters my office. “Me, Hope, and Gerry are ordering from that new fish place on Pier 15. You want me to grab you something?”

Drawing my attention from my bleak mood, I glance up at her, offering her a stiff smile. “I’m fine. I’ll probably just order my Friday usual.”

She smirks, shaking her head. “Keep eating those meatball subs and you’re going to start looking like me.” Her hand pats her round stomach and she cackles. “If only life were that fair. You’ll probably always be a beefcake.”

This earns her an actual smile from me. Frannie is my closest thing to a friend. Sure, I pay her to be there for me, always checking in on me and making sure my life runs smoothly, but I’ve come to care for her. Though she flirts as though it comes as naturally as breathing, she’s happily married to a retired cop. Ron and Frannie have even managed to drag me out to a football game or two since I’ve known them.

As soon as she leaves, the warmth she brought in with her evaporates. An uneasy chill skitters down my spine. It’s not unusual for me to be in a gloomy mood, but I’m not one for ever feeling anxious. At least, not anymore. Not since I left Texas a decade ago.

My phone beeps in my pocket and I pull it out to read the nationwide weather alert.

Monster tornado wrecks Baltimore without warning.

I frown at the alert. Seismic activity at Yellowstone, two earthquakes, and a monster tornado on the same day. The twisting in my gut tightens.

The doomsday evangelists and moonies will have a field day with this. One side will be predicting four horsemen with trumpets and the other side will put on their helmets, waiting for rocks and other debris to pelt them from space as they blabber on about how “they’ve been warning us for fifty years.” Both will preach that it’s the end.

Death is imminent.

Or so they say.

A sick tendril of wonder weaves itself in my mind. What does Dad think of all this? I’m sure the great Mitch Bennett would have a helluva lot to say about the matter. He always was a lot more practical when it came to things like this with incredible instincts and actionable advice. It’s a shame that after Mom died, his already heavy hand became unbearable and his hateful words finally sent me over the edge that drove me to California. Without Mom’s interference, there was no way I could have stayed.

And you left Little Knox there with that bastard all those years ago…

I didn’t want to run—and running is exactly what I did—but with losing Mom, Dad’s always mounting disappointment that’d turned into such crushing cruelty, and the way Knox looked up to me like I had all the answers, it was too much. Knox was turning into a man. Surely he didn’t need me. Not that I would’ve been useful to him anyway while dodging Dad’s wrath.

Escape was crucial for my own survival. Unfortunately, my brother was on his own.

Needing to move and escape the depressing thoughts swimming around in my head, I stalk over to a wall of windows in my office. There are darkening clouds in the distance, signaling a pending thunderstorm. San Francisco sees its fair share of rain year-round, so it’s not concerning. However, after hearing several strange weather accounts this late morning, the dark clouds are ominous.

Get a grip, man.

Obsessively watching the news and pacing the office won’t calm my spiraling thoughts. A hefty glass of bourbon could, but it’s not even noon. Unfortunately, the only thing that’s got me through life in the past decade on my own is work.

SF Freedom Acquisition has been the buoy that’s kept me from drowning from feelings of failure, of abandoning my brother, disappointing my father in more ways than one, and the tragic and utterly gutting loss of my mother. It’s typically the only time I can find a reprieve inside my head, filling it with reports and clients and companies to buy or sell rather than heavy memories from my past. I’d even thrown in the word “freedom” when choosing a name for my company because it represented the release of my father’s clawing hold on me.

I don’t feel so free now.

I still feel like the vulnerable young guy all those years ago, waiting for the back of Dad’s hand to strike me across my face like he could smack the gay right out of me. Most days, I think he did because a few closed-door, drunken hookups over the past ten years were the only glimpse of the guy who attempted to come out of a closet in conservative bumfuck of Texas. No relationships or friendships. No parades or rainbows. Just me. Alone. Always fucking alone.

Somehow, I manage to bury those thoughts and busy myself with checking emails. I’m a machine as I respond, only looking up when I feel eyes on me.

Not Frannie.

Kyle.

Kyle Upton is my COO. A young, good-looking guy with a ravenous hunger for success. If I didn’t own this company, I might fear for my own job. One day, he’s going to leave SFFA for a bigger fish that pays a whole lot more than what I can offer. He’s brilliant and a little too shrewd for his own good.

“Knock-knock, boss man,” he says, wearing a shit-eating grin as he motions for the television. “Can we talk about the Cincinnati office or are you waiting for an asteroid to hit Earth this time and take you out of your misery?”

Like I said. Astute. Observant as hell. Sometimes it makes my skin crawl. I can barely deal with my issues without someone else trying to sneak a peek as well.

“There is no Cincinnati office,” I say, tone clipped as I mute the TV.

With a shrug, he closes the door behind him. He then makes himself at home, settling in the chair across from my desk. “Not yet, Bennett, not yet.”

Not ever.

Cincinnati may as well be in China for all I care. If I were to open another office, and that’s a huge if, I sure as hell wouldn’t put it in Cincinnati of all places.

“What do you need?” I pin him with a no-nonsense stare. “I have a ton of emails to catch up on.”

“I was thinking about stealing Frannie. She just knows her shit, unlike Elise.” His brows pinch together. “Also, Elise’s voice grates on my nerves. Come on, man. Do me a solid.”

There’s no way in hell I’d ever give Frannie up.

Ever.

I’d give up the entire company and start over before letting her go off to help someone else. She is one of the very few people who understand me.

“Frannie stays. Why don’t you take this problem of yours downstairs to HR if she annoys you so much?”

He pretends to pout, making him look much younger than twenty-eight—the same age as my brother. “Because Barb is tired of seeing me. It’s not my fault all my assistants suck.”

Kyle, though really good at his job, is often impatient with people, not allowing them any room for error. He’s been through six assistants this year and we’re barely into the summer.

“Gerry seems to like Hope. Maybe you could ask her and Elise to swap places for a bit.” I turn my eyes back to my computer, quickly responding to an email I’d been waiting on.

“Have you seen Hope? Gerry likes her for a lot more than her skills.”

I ignore his crude remark. Hope is young, blond, polished. She also came with a stellar résumé where she’d worked as an executive level assistant at one of our competitors. His insinuation she was hired for her looks rather than her skills is a testament to why he can’t keep an assistant.

“As stimulating as this conversation is, Kyle, I don’t have time for this.” I let out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “Get with Frannie to schedule a meeting. I can give you my full attention then.”

His face reddens and his jaw clenches. I’ve probably pissed him off, but he’s acting like a brat and I really do not have time for it.

“I’ll figure it out, boss man,” he grumbles, rising to his feet. “Hope you remembered your helmet.”

I frown as he stalks out of my office. Helmet? Grabbing the remote, I hit the button to turn the sound back on. Sure enough, they’re interviewing an old-school moonie.

“…I’m ancient enough to remember the asteroid of ’73,” the white-haired man says, revealing yellow teeth as he grins. “Gerty scared the BLEEP out of everyone. But not me. It’s going to take a lot more than a mother BLEEP ing asteroid to take me out. My ex-wife tried a time or two with a mother BLEEP ing pillow over my head when I slept and I’m still here!”

“Back to you, Ted,” the young woman says with a tight smile.

“He sure was colorful,” Ted huffs out, eyes wide. “Props to our sound techs for saving little listening ears from that language. Children watch our show too, Mr. Moonie.”

The cohost laughs at Ted and then they easily breeze into discussing sports. If the world really were going to end today, I would like to think the news would be a lot more serious.

I abandon my email once more and swivel around in my desk chair. The storm clouds are no longer visible and I wonder if I imagined them before.

It’s possible.

I’m restless and my mind is going in too many directions.

Like how are Knox and Dad doing these days? Are their lives wrapped up around the ranch, raising livestock to sell for whatever profit they can while desperately trying to forget about the gaping hole Mom left when she died? My chest aches whenever I think about my mother. She was the sunshine in our cloudy world. She was our everything.

My thoughts bounce from my family to the state of Texas itself. The financial market in most of that region has bottomed out as people who can afford to migrate out west to safer lands. The seismic activity that increased over the years drove anyone with any sense out. Miraculously, the state I chose to move to has become one of the most profitable because it’s one of the safest, especially San Francisco, despite being a coastal city. It’s as though the rich can afford to keep the angry planet’s grumblings at bay by sheer will and stacks of cash made off the less fortunate.

I’m certainly one of those wealthy men, snatching property out from beneath those who struggle to make ends meet, to turn a profit by then selling it for an incredible profit to celebrities, billionaires, and politicians who can afford to purchase geographical safety.

My heart thumps hard in my chest and I don’t know if it’s the stress of my life weighing down on me or the caffeine. The third coffee I had this morning was probably one too many on an empty stomach. I’m so buzzed from caffeine that I wouldn’t be surprised if I started hearing colors soon too.

“Up next,” Ted says, “we have a few adorable animal TikToks to share with you. Ever seen a bunny wear a tutu, Marla? Prepare for cuteness overload after our break.”

On that note, I turn off the TV.

Maybe the world already ended and I’m in hell.

It’s the only explanation for my shitty life.