Dark Application: ONE (The Dark Application Series Book 1) Read online

  Dark Application: ONE

  The Dark Application Series: Book One

  by Brian Krogstad and Lindsey Waterman

  "Dark Application will blow your mind!" - Celebrity Magician Criss Angel

  Copyright ©2012 Brian Krogstad

  All Rights Reserved

  Kindle Third Edition

  This author has provided this e-book to you without (DRM) Digital Rights Management so you may enjoy it on any device. This e-book may not be reproduced or transmitted or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Please send an email to [email protected] for specific reproduction requests, copyright concerns or distribution inquiries.

  This e-book is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all materials in this book.

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  The Aftermath

  As his eyes flickered open and shut, he started to focus on the green blurs swirling above him and the brown lines they were attached to. Within seconds, his eyes popped suddenly open and he realized he was staring at the branches and thick green foliage of the southeast quad. The branches swayed in the warm sticky Virginia summer breeze, all dappled with yellow sunlight. When a draft ruffled his chest hair, he realized he was stark naked in the middle of the day. Right in the middle of the quad.

  The back of his neck was on fire, a burning sensation that stretched from the base of his skull all the way down his back and spine. When he reached his hand up, he felt a crust of burnt hair on the back of his head. Twisting, he saw the raw patch that his back had become. He winced in pain as he strained trying to see his bubbling, scabbed skin.

  Gasping and jumping to his feet, he scanned the green expanse of lawn for people who would surely spot him tumbling around campus in the nude, but more so, for his clothing or his backpack; any of his belongings would do.

  But especially his phone.

  He cupped his privates in both hands and began to peck about the grass with his bare feet, looking desperately for his cell phone. Where is Amy? He thought with panic. What the hell just happened?

  There was a hedge of tall juniper surrounding this portion of the grassy quad area. As Luke scanned the grass for his phone so he could get himself out of this predicament, he noticed the towering cloud of black smoke that was billowing up from someplace behind the juniper, spreading across the sky, spattered here and there with flaming bits of fire and ash. At that moment, it suddenly dawned on him that everything was quiet; no bird sounds, no chatting students, no distant traffic from the campus parking lot. Total silence. Where the chemistry lab had been was now a black smoldering hole. He peeked around the juniper and saw it, about 300 feet away, the pile of brick and black ashes that he had caused.

  No, that It had caused.

  He shook off a deep nauseating chill and turned to run in the other direction when he slammed into a tall massive chest, rocking the person back on their heels. The person was a tall, frighteningly muscled man with a pink complexion, an impeccably starched black suit, and slicked-back midnight colored hair. He had a red, deeply-pored nose that he snuffed when Luke stumbled backward, and the dark circles under his eyes were gray. Behind him was a military style Hummer with the door open, and a woman in a green military camouflage uniform and a black beret who stood with her hand on the door handle. She had a pistol holstered at her side.

  Cupping his privates, Luke stooped and took a bounding leap to the side, as though he thought he was going to run off. His clumsy movement was impeded by a bicep the size of a tree trunk that caught him around the waist. The stiff cuffs of the man’s suit raked his back and he screamed, “Ouch! Watch the back, dude! I’m like burnt and in pain here, man!”

  The man in the suit did not relax his grip, but aggressively reaching toward Luke’s groin and grabbing one wrist, swung his bare body around so Luke’s hands were pinned behind him. When he heard the clink of hand cuffs as they were put on him, Luke protested wildly, shouting, “Oh no, come on man! I’m butt-ass naked here! Just give me back one hand, please? Can I get a blanket or something?”

  By then he was cuffed and being dragged in humiliation to the open car door where the military woman stood waiting. He could feel the cold leather seats when they tossed his naked body into the backseat and slammed the door.

  The car pulled away from the curb, the woman driving, the suited man in the passenger seat looking straight ahead with a solemn glare. “What do you think of when you hear the words Defense Application for Remote Kinetics, Mr. Jeffers?” he asked solemnly. “Are you the type of guy that is going to man up and confess,” he continued, “or are you the type of guy that denies everything until they fry you?”

  Luke’s hard breaths rasped as his heart began to pound and he started to sweat. He tried to answer, but his voice was caught in his throat. They know, he thought. They know about the exams I cheated on, the games I stole, the Dark Application. A chill rolled through him. It could have just been illegal downloading. Stealing software, okay, big deal, everyone’s done it. But now… now…….

  A sickness setting in, he dropped his head, reeling in self-disgust.

  Murder. Now I’m going to be charged with murder.

  *****

  5 Months Earlier

  Luke Jeffers always considered himself to be a fairly disciplined, although imperfect, guy. He was always up on time, never late for class, and never late on rent like his two roommates who regularly owed him money for covering their share of the bills. He liked to do little things like make his bed, keep clean pillow cases on, and wipe up the coffee spoon drips on the counter. The things he was the worst at were shaving regularly, replacing worn-out tee-shirts, and talking to girls. His two roommates, Chris and Amit, were typical college sophomore slobs, but they respected the space they shared with him, wiping up the counters before he came in, sweeping up the floor or taking out the empty beer bottles before he came downstairs in the morning. Luke imagined it was because they admired and respected him, but deep down he knew it was because every time they didn’t have money for rent, beer, or food, Luke would always fork over.

  And it wasn’t that Luke was desperate for friends or that he had a lot of money to begin with, he was just the only one who was able to manage the small amount of money he had. The three of them had met on a craigslist ad, advertising roommates needed for freshman year, and now that they were almost juniors, they were such good friends that they couldn’t imagine a more comfortable living arrangement. Tossed into each other’s space, they meshed unexpectedly well. Chris had the car, Luke had the dough, and Amit knew lots of cute girls. Luke justified his being overly generous by telling himself that they would surely do the same if he were ever broke. That’s just what friends did in Luke’s mind; they just helped each other out. Like Chris, for example. He was the only one in the house with a car. So Chris drove them around, and Luke paid for gas…and dinner, beer, and the electric bill. But whatever, he always said. What goes around comes around.

  On a Monday morning
in late January, Luke sipped coffee at the rickety hand-me-down kitchen table that was covered in pen and knife graffiti, and looked over his new schedule. Pulling his fingers through his scruffy blonde hair, he reviewed his daily planner. Math, chemistry, and computer classes this semester. Plus a new internship that started this week, CIS: Computer Information Systems. Huh, sounds like this is going to be a busy few months, he thought.

  He gathered his books, tossed his backpack on, and strode into the cold gray morning. The chain on his bicycle clicked loudly and the gears clanked when he shifted, but it still managed to take him the twelve blocks to school once again. At least it hadn’t snowed yet this year so he was still able to bike to school. He absentmindedly leaned it against the rack and didn’t even bother to lock it up. As he jogged up the short sidewalk to his chemistry class, he saw Amy walking hand-in-hand with her new boyfriend.

  Her thick black curls bounced around her face like doll hair. She was bundled in a scarf and her cinnamon-brown cheeks showed just above the cotton. She was like a perfect little snow bunny, all curvy, cute, and soft. Her butt bounced in the tight jeans she was wearing as she walked with the new guy directly in front of Luke. The boyfriend opened the door for her and then slammed it in Luke’s face without even noticing, he was so intent on staring at Amy.

  Luke cringed when he realized the only chair left in the lab was two rows behind Amy and Dude, where he would have to look right over their heads to see the professor. They didn’t even watch the lecture, they just sat and flirted the entire class. Luke glowered and grimaced every time their hands touched. When class let out, Luke grabbed his books and raced for the door, shoving through the other students.

  The sky outside was dark and silent. A storm cloud had dimmed the sun and gathered, broiling, into a seething black-gray mass.

  “Luke,” rang a shout from the parking lot. Amit stood waving, his shabby purple mountain bike slouching pitifully beside him. Luke waved back and entered the crosswalk. Suddenly, a sleek new low-riding black Camaro sped around the corner and Luke jumped back onto the sidewalk. The tires on the car squealed briefly as the driver hit the brakes and the horn loudly bellowed.

  “Watch where you’re going!” Luke said, throwing his arms up. The passenger window of the car slid down and Amy poked her head out, her gorgeous smile the only brilliant thing in the drizzly and ashen landscape. Deep bass beats spilled out the window behind her. The boyfriend sat coolly in the driver’s seat, ready to do whatever Amy told him to next.

  “Sorry Luke!” she said.

  A red-haired girl popped her head out the window, squeezing her face between the back of Amy’s seat and the door. “Move, dork!” she screeched. The boyfriend threw his head back in laughter and the car sped off.

  Savannah Byrne had long been known as the Girl with the Big Tits. She had fire-orange hair and a long, daintily-boned face. She had been the first of the girls in elementary school to noticeably begin developing breasts, and since then they had only continued to grow. She was the first to get a nose ring, the first to get a “tramp stamp,” the little butterfly tattoo on her lower back, and the first to get caught smoking behind the H Wing of their high school. How the hell she had gotten accepted into college was a mystery to Luke. She was a sassy, loud-mouthed cantankerous bitch who stuck her pointy nose into everyone’s business and had forever, since day one, had a beef with Luke. In seventh grade, she had told the whole school that Luke had asked her out when he hadn’t, and it embarrassed the shit out of him. Of course everyone believed her, she was the prettiest girl with the biggest boobs in junior high. In his freshman year of high school, she had teased Luke so bad about the zit on his nose that wouldn’t heal, he had actually begged his mom to let him switch schools. She’d tormented, badgered, and teased him in every way, sticking her enormous breasts into his face, getting everyone else to join in; the ringmaster, the mistress of misery. The biggest bitch he’d ever had to deal with in his life.

  And of course, Amy’s best friend.

  Luke ripped his bike out of the bush where someone had tossed it aside and thrust his weight forward on it. It clanked louder than usual today as he and Amit rode in silence side-by-side down the gray, cracked asphalt streets to their sagging yellow, peeling-paint, college bunk-house.

  It was cold and musty inside the house, and Amit quietly lit the stove and began a pot of tea. That was something of value Amit brought to the household; somehow he always knew just the right tea to brew that would make Luke or Chris feel better. And Amit was the kind of dude who would glower silently with Luke when he was feeling down without rubbing it in, or trying to ask about it, or even talking about anything at all. Amit was good at reading peoples’ moods, and when Luke was in the type of funk he was in today, Amit would just sit there silently and keep him company. He was just a chill guy. Luke liked that.

  With a sigh, he sunk into the stained couch and pulled out his syllabus, memorizing his new schedule. “Better try to get some work done before Chris gets home with a thirty-pack,” he said. Amit nodded and chuckled in agreement. There was no use trying to get a whole lot done when Chris was home.

  Looking at his schedule, Luke saw that his internship, which began the following day, was located off-campus about four miles south of town in an industrial complex he was unfamiliar with. “Hey Amit, do you know where Commerce Loop is?”

  “No dude, I don’t know,” he said.

  Luke plugged in his tattered laptop and opened it on the coffee table. After several attempts to connect to the wireless router, he finally gave up and busted out his smartphone. Instantly he was online and he mapped out 4018 Commerce Loop with ease. Quite the bike ride from his house, he realized. He might actually have to take the bus.

  The door burst open and Chris blew in with a gust of cold air, whooping loud shouts about the rain and tossing a case of generic beer onto the counter. “Wow, it’s cold in here guys!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Hopefully that rain doesn’t turn to snow, or worse yet, ice. If it does your biking days are over, and I really don’t feel like playing chauffeur every day.” He threw off his gloves and came into the living room, stooping in front of the fireplace and throwing kindling in. “What, you girls too lazy to make a fire? What’s going on with you? What’s up with you Luke, you start your period today?”

  Amit chirped and slapped a hand over his mouth. Chris opened his mouth, showing his teeth, and let out a high-pitched cackle. That same cackle that kept Luke up until 2 AM half the time. That same cackle that haunted him in his nightmares. The cackle that, no matter what shitty mood he was in, always made Luke want a beer.

  “Alright, alright, get me a tampon god dammit,” Luke said.

  “That’s my man!” said Chris as he stepped into the kitchen, where Luke could hear him shuffling around, the refrigerator door opening and slamming, sending the contents whirling. A beer can flew into his lap, making him jerk up his knees in defense.

  As Luke sipped his beer on the couch, he kept picturing Amy with that new boyfriend. The way she looked at him, the way he charmed her. His buzzed head, clean-shaven face, his Nike jacket, his nice car. His tall build and his hard-lined jaw. And Amy, staring into his eyes lustily. Why did she have to be such a damn dream girl? Why was she so attracted to spoiled assholes?

  *****

  The bus lurched to a jerking halt and Luke hopped out the door at the corner of Commerce Loop and Jackson Boulevard. He was on the southeast side of town, where there were no stores or houses, just huge skeletal, mysteriously unidentified buildings, rows after rows of them. Some were obviously warehouses with rolling metal doors and forklifts parked along the alleyways. Others were just huge vacant-looking buildings with closed-up blinds over the dark windows and a few random cars here and there in the vast parking lots. He could see a large office complex ahead with the number 4018 on the side. Ducking his head against the pouring rain, he jogged toward the front door.

  He pushed open the door to find himself in a lar
ge, warm building with fans blowing heated air, and a reception table with a woman in military fatigues talking on the phone. He pulled his hood back and looked around, blinking as he took in the high white walls, the corridors leading off to the left and right, and looked for a chair. There was no place to sit or wait. He stood there until the lady hung up the phone.

  “Mr. Jeffers?” she asked, standing up from the desk.

  Luke blinked a few times. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s me,” he said.

  “My name is Sergeant Coffield. Follow me, please.”

  She picked up a pile of paperwork and led him down one of the dim corridors to an office with a long desk filled with computers and printers. A young man sat at one of the computers, staring intensely at the screen, clicking away at the mouse. When he saw Luke, he stood up and gave a grandiose smile, pushing his chair away and reaching out to grab Luke’s hand.

  Luke reached out cautiously and took the guy’s hand. He stared blankly at the man, who vigorously clasped his hand and jiggled his arm.

  “Hi, you must be Luke! I’m Kevin Dobson. I’m a CIS Grad Student over at Tech and I’m going to be your training supervisor this semester. Come on in and sit here at this desk, I have your work station ready to go.”

  Kevin was a twitchy, skinny guy with black straight hair and a beak of a nose. His collar bone stuck out through his shirt, and Luke noticed that his arms were unusually skinny. The man looked emaciated. He had a rough beard and round eyes framed by shaggy unkempt eyebrows.

  The rest of the day was mostly Luke signing and submitting paperwork. There were several confidentiality agreements, most of which he barely scanned before signing. Yeah-yeah, work and don’t talk about it. I live with the dunce cap crew. No one in my house would understand this shit anyway.

  The beginning of the internship required several training modules which guided Luke through the basic usage of the programs. He sat there and blinked hard, trying to keep his eyes open, fighting off drowsiness. Finally, at 3 pm, he was released and rode the bus back through the slick gray streets to his house.