Anya broke down and started to cry, then leaned into Everett and held him.
Deep in the Carpathian Mountains, the sad refrain of a wolf’s cry echoed across the windswept peaks.
WARWICK PANGEA BEACH RESORT AND HOTEL
JIYEH, LEBANON
On the gleaming coast of Jiyeh sat the refurbished resort hotel that was now the pride of all Lebanon. The hotel had faced destruction many times and was partially burned in the civil war of two decades before. Sitting twenty-seven kilometers south of Beirut, the resort rarely had empty rooms as festive life had slowly returned to the war torn nation.
On this Saturday tourists filled the spa and pool areas and crowded the many restaurants that served foods from all over the world. The resort was out to make Beirut the place to visit it had been thirty years before.
As the noon hour approached the sun was blotted out by a few clouds that seemed to approach the coast without being noticed by either the guests or the resort staff. As tourists were just starting to lie out on the white sandy beaches while others were heading inside for lunch, the clouds grew heavier and thicker. The guests shielded their eyes against the fading sunlight as they watched the strange clouds swirling right above the resort.
Suddenly thunder roared as more clouds joined the first group. These were darker and strangely enough were tinged with green and blue colored highlights that seemed to emanate from deep within the small storm. As sunbathers stood and started gathering towels and belongings, the wind picked up. It went from a calm five-mile-an-hour offshore breeze to a thunderous peppering of sand and seawater as the guests were pummeled by wind-sped debris.
The hotel staff waved the guests inside as small tendrils of blackness reached out from the clouds for the earth below. The motion increased and the image of a hurricane filled most with dread. The suddenness of the storm and its power had patrons running in fear.
The circling clouds sped up. The center started down, retracted, and then began to once more creep down from the sky. The few brave guests who braved the stinging sand and sea saw the very center of the storm as it slowly passed the main section of the resort. Eyes widened as they seemed to be looking into the very visage of an angry God. The blackness beyond the dead center of the storm was like the eye of a hurricane, only it was the blackness of space that lay far beyond the top of the clouds.
Suddenly a streak of bright green lightning reached out toward the beach. Running patrons were struck down by the moving electrical fire. More strikes hit the resort. Multicolored yellow, green, and blue streaks slammed the spa area, immediately killing all inside.
Men, women, and children screamed as the clouds suddenly slammed into the earth. Eyewitnesses miles away said it looked as if a dark and viscous liquid had been dumped on the resort. The swirling clouds, wind, and lightning completely engulfed the resort and the land and sea for two miles around. The speeding tornado made the image of the resort a memory.
The storm started to diminish—not slowly, but as suddenly as it had sprung up. As the clouds lifted, the survivors heard the roar and crash of the sea as it rushed in to replace the billions of gallons of seawater that had vanished as surely as the resort itself.
Water seeped into the giant hole that was once the location of the billion-dollar resort. The hotel, all of the outer buildings, and even part of the sea had disappeared—vanished into the tornado-like storm. A few palms fell over as half of their bulk had been stripped away and sent with wood, cement, water, and 4,800 men, women, and children. Water gushed from broken water mains that ended abruptly where the hotel once stood.
The strange phenomenon had sucked up over four square miles of beachfront and had vanished as if it had never been.
SIXTEEN MILES SOUTH OF CHATO’S CRAWL, ARIZONA
The UH-60 Black Hawk hovered one mile
Deep in the Carpathian Mountains, the sad refrain of a wolf’s cry echoed across the windswept peaks.
WARWICK PANGEA BEACH RESORT AND HOTEL
JIYEH, LEBANON
On the gleaming coast of Jiyeh sat the refurbished resort hotel that was now the pride of all Lebanon. The hotel had faced destruction many times and was partially burned in the civil war of two decades before. Sitting twenty-seven kilometers south of Beirut, the resort rarely had empty rooms as festive life had slowly returned to the war torn nation.
On this Saturday tourists filled the spa and pool areas and crowded the many restaurants that served foods from all over the world. The resort was out to make Beirut the place to visit it had been thirty years before.
As the noon hour approached the sun was blotted out by a few clouds that seemed to approach the coast without being noticed by either the guests or the resort staff. As tourists were just starting to lie out on the white sandy beaches while others were heading inside for lunch, the clouds grew heavier and thicker. The guests shielded their eyes against the fading sunlight as they watched the strange clouds swirling right above the resort.
Suddenly thunder roared as more clouds joined the first group. These were darker and strangely enough were tinged with green and blue colored highlights that seemed to emanate from deep within the small storm. As sunbathers stood and started gathering towels and belongings, the wind picked up. It went from a calm five-mile-an-hour offshore breeze to a thunderous peppering of sand and seawater as the guests were pummeled by wind-sped debris.
The hotel staff waved the guests inside as small tendrils of blackness reached out from the clouds for the earth below. The motion increased and the image of a hurricane filled most with dread. The suddenness of the storm and its power had patrons running in fear.
The circling clouds sped up. The center started down, retracted, and then began to once more creep down from the sky. The few brave guests who braved the stinging sand and sea saw the very center of the storm as it slowly passed the main section of the resort. Eyes widened as they seemed to be looking into the very visage of an angry God. The blackness beyond the dead center of the storm was like the eye of a hurricane, only it was the blackness of space that lay far beyond the top of the clouds.
Suddenly a streak of bright green lightning reached out toward the beach. Running patrons were struck down by the moving electrical fire. More strikes hit the resort. Multicolored yellow, green, and blue streaks slammed the spa area, immediately killing all inside.
Men, women, and children screamed as the clouds suddenly slammed into the earth. Eyewitnesses miles away said it looked as if a dark and viscous liquid had been dumped on the resort. The swirling clouds, wind, and lightning completely engulfed the resort and the land and sea for two miles around. The speeding tornado made the image of the resort a memory.
The storm started to diminish—not slowly, but as suddenly as it had sprung up. As the clouds lifted, the survivors heard the roar and crash of the sea as it rushed in to replace the billions of gallons of seawater that had vanished as surely as the resort itself.
Water seeped into the giant hole that was once the location of the billion-dollar resort. The hotel, all of the outer buildings, and even part of the sea had disappeared—vanished into the tornado-like storm. A few palms fell over as half of their bulk had been stripped away and sent with wood, cement, water, and 4,800 men, women, and children. Water gushed from broken water mains that ended abruptly where the hotel once stood.
The strange phenomenon had sucked up over four square miles of beachfront and had vanished as if it had never been.
SIXTEEN MILES SOUTH OF CHATO’S CRAWL, ARIZONA
The UH-60 Black Hawk hovered one mile
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