Blue Hope: (Book 2) (Red Hope) Read online

  “Well, let me disinfect the area…”

  “No!” yelled the winded doctor. “There’s no time! Just inject the medication right now!”

  Dr. Defranco opened the girl’s gown just enough to see the surgery marks above the pancreas where they’d tried to remove the main tumor. He took the syringe and pushed it deep into the scarred area toward the pancreas and injected the entire thing. The glowing blue liquid disappeared through the needle and into her abdomen. Sophie didn’t move thanks to the morphine drip.

  “Now what?” Dr. Defranco asked.

  “We wait.”

  The doctors stared at the minute hand on the clock. The family stared at the second hand.

  How cruel, thought Sophie’s mom. To give us this shred of hope as the last few moments of life faded away. Their daughter laid there being devoured by cancer.

  The skin near Sophie’s injection site became very red. Dr. Defranco put his hand on it and felt intense heat. A chemical process was happening beneath the skin, one which had never happened on Earth before. Dr. Defranco’s brow furled, a combination of confusion and wonderment.

  Sophie’s whispered breathing became noticeably deeper. She grew agitated and moved her arms. Her pulse and oxygen levels started climbing back to normal. A smile came over Dr. Defranco’s face. He was witnessing a miracle that would eventually to put him out of a job and he couldn’t have been happier.

  Sophie’s vital signs climbed toward normal levels on the computer readout. Ten excruciating minutes passed by. Her eyes slowly fluttered open like a butterfly testing its new wings. She was confused by the dozen visitors crowded into her room. She moved her lips, speaking too quietly for anybody to hear. Her parents leaned in close to listen.

  “Mama?” the groggy girl asked. “Papa?”

  “Si mi hija. We are here,” her papa said, his eyes filled with tears. He squeezed her hand.

  “Am I okay?” she asked with a raspy whisper.

  Papa wiped away his tears with his fist, knocking his glasses off, barely catching them with his other hand. His face quivered back and forth, not knowing whether to smile or cry out.

  “The monster…,” he trailed off. “It’s gone, sweetheart. It’s all gone. Now I get to see you grow up.”

  CHAPTER 92

  Zhuvango Falls

  Africa

  Mist hung over the jungle like a blanket, with air so humid it constantly felt on the verge of raining. Birds perched high up in the trees out of reach of most predators. A cacophony of squawking between them filled the tree canopy with an orchestra of nature’s music. It had been this way here for millions of years.

  The beautiful chaos stopped. Great swathes of birds leapt from their branches, cawing and chirping noisily as they flew in random directions at first and then ultimately away from this spot. Some flew down to the black sand along the river which emanated from the large roaring waterfall.

  A rumbling noise from high up in the sky pierced through the squawking, coming and going depending on the breeze. It rose to a grinding roar and then faded back. A strong breeze blew through the leafy canopy and the roar never went away after that. A bright spot in the sky competed with the sun disc, except the spot got brighter and brighter. The roar was now deafening to the local fauna, sending a stampede of animals across the jungle floor, away from the river’s edge.

  As the bright spot got larger and lower, it revealed a cylindrical shape on top of it. Once it reached tree height above the stream, it paused and hovered for a moment. The engine plume from the rocket hit the surface water like a constant explosion, sending spray and steam in every direction.

  The craft glided sideways as three landing pads unfolded from the sides. It descended until the round landing feet pushed into the soft black sand. The rocket quieted down and the flame disappeared. The feet continued to sink as the capsule began leaning to one side. It kept leaning more and more, finally falling over with a loud hollow clunk sound.

  With the roar gone, the jungle noises resumed their natural volume.

  The muffled sound of a metallic latch emanated from a round door structure on the side of the toppled capsule. The disc-shaped door fell open and bounced a few times against the hinge. Two gloves flew out of the hole and landed in the stream where they bobbed like two tiny rafts. A moment later, a helmet fell out, hit the sand, and rolled into the stream, too.

  A middle-aged man crawled out of the hole and fell to the sand, landing on his back. He rolled over onto his belly and grabbed the sand with both hands, squeezing it until it flowed through his fingers. Tears of happiness streamed down his cheeks, like a man who’d just escaped a death sentence.

  “Water…” he said with a horribly parched voice. “Waaatttter…”

  The man slowly spun on his belly and slid his way toward the stream, making small movements. He looked up and saw a figure walking toward him from behind a waterfall in the distance — it was a man wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots.

  At first the khaki-shorts man walked normally, but he began jogging as he got a better view of the strange vehicle on the river shore. His running footsteps kicked up black sand behind him.

  The khaki-shorts man didn’t know what to make of what he saw — an astronaut who was face-down in the sand, in the middle of nowhere? He arrived at the scene and poked the strange astronaut with a stick.

  Nothing.

  Oh man, he’s dead, the khaki-shorts man thought.

  He poked him again.

  The strange man rolled onto his back, startling the khaki-shorts man.

  “Captain Alston! Is that you?” the khaki-shorts man asked with surprise. “You’re supposed to be dead. Like, really dead.”

  “I guess I’m not so easy to kill,” Adam joked. “Now help this old man up.”

  “Sure thing, sir,” the khaki-shorts man said, leaning down to help up the astronaut. “I’m part of the residual support crew left here at the waterfall. I’m a geologist. There’s five of us on site.”

  Adam grabbed the water canteen dangling from the shoulder of the khaki-shorts man. He removed the lid and drank like he hadn’t had a drop in days.

  “Whoa, okay, sure, drink all you want.”

  “I’m glad you’re still here,” Adam said, wiping the water overspill from his face. “And boy did I have a rough ride home.”

  “I’ll bet you did,” the man said, noticing the foreign markings on the side of the rocket capsule.

  Adam reached back into the rocket opening and pulled out a box-shaped device that had blue corners. He laughed at how light the object was, seemingly weightless, yet so important to humanity. Adam limped over to the geologist and leaned on him for support.

  “What is that box for?” the khaki-shorts man asked.

  Adam furrowed his brow.

  “That, my friend, is…,” he paused for a moment. “Salvation.”

  The two men hobbled back toward the waterfall — that glorious spot where the early Martians chose to hide their first laboratory. With each step, the water lapped at their heels, washing away their foot prints.

  “By chance, do you have your satellite phone with you?” Adam asked.

  The khaki-shorts man reached into his pocket and pulled out his laughably large satellite phone.

  “May I?” Adam asked, gesturing to borrow it.

  “Sure. Just go easy, it’s like five dollars a minute.”

  “I’m sure NASA will pay,” Adam said.

  While they walked, Adam dialed in a phone number and pushed the Call button. It rang and rang.

  “Hello?” asked a sleepy woman at the other end of the call.

  “Hey honey, it’s me,” Adam said with a huge grin.

  “Adam? — ADAM! Oh my God, you’re alive!” screamed the voice on the other end. Adam had to hold the phone away from his ear. He heard her say, “Kids! Kids! Come here, your Daddy is okay!”

  Connie talked a mile a minute.

  “Where are you?” she cried. “I have so much to tell you
. I got the note. I got the note you gave to Tucker. I asked Chris about it and he told me everything about Wil… Wilma, whatever her name was. All I can say is, Chris has serious problems.”

  “I’m glad that’s cleared up,” Adam said with a sigh. “I still have a lot of explaining to do myself. Hey, I’ve had a long time to think about things and I was wondering if I could invite you to go on a date. Maybe, we can start all over again.”

  “Uh huh, I think I’d like that,” she said. “Maybe we can go to the park. Take the kids for a bike ride?”

  Adam laughed.

  “Sounds like the best day ever.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  John Dreese is an author who lives in Texas. He enjoys stories about adventure, technology and people. BLUE HOPE is his second novel. If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review on Amazon.com.

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JJDreese/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JohnDreeseAuthor/

  BOOKS BY JOHN DREESE

  Red Hope

  Blue Hope

  (Book 2 of the Red Hope Series)

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book is the product of nearly three years of effort. Without the help of many wonderful people, it would not exist. I am forever grateful to them.

  My wife Lee supported this project in too many ways to count. Plot development was enhanced by the inputs of story consultants Daniel and Caroline. Many thanks to Kurt Chankaya for a discussion that greatly impacted the direction of the story, and to the support from members of the Dallas Mars Society — it would be difficult to find a more enthusiastic group dedicated solely to the progress of manned space exploration.

  Finally, thanks to the test readers who, through the generosity of their time and talent, provided incredibly helpful feedback.

  Thank you all.