The Burden of Darkness Read online

  ACCLAIM FOR AWARD WINNING AUTHOR

  BARRY FINLAY

  THE BURDEN OF DARKNESS

  A MARCIE KANE AND NATHAN HARRIS THRILLER

  “Thoroughly captivating, ingenious, and full of heart-pounding suspense, this is an action thriller done right…” – The Prairies Book Review

  “Those who like their thrillers especially strong in interpersonal relationships and connections and character psychology and evolution will welcome The Burden of Darkness for its compelling blend of action and insight.” – Diane Donovan, Midwest Book Review

  NEVER SO ALONE

  A NATHAN HARRIS THRILLER NOVELLA

  “Finlay constructs a convincing special operations plot, complete with high action to keep the reader on edge.” - The Prairies Book Review

  “Brilliant. Would be an amazing film!” – Goodreads reader

  REMOTE ACCESS

  AN INTERNATIONAL POLITICAL THRILLER

  “Finlay paints a frighteningly realistic picture of two of the things people often fear today — terrorism and cybercrime.” – RECOMMENDED by the US Review of Books

  “While grounded in reality, Remote Access is a must-read with a singular sense of escapism rare in a political thriller.” – BestThrillers.com

  A PERILOUS QUESTION

  AN INTERNATIONAL THRILLER AND CRIME NOVEL

  “Written with a compassionate, knowledgeable voice, the book is an excellent story of mystery and intrigue.” – RECOMMENDED by the US Review of Books

  “A Perilous Question sizzles with international intrigue as the tension and suspense mount to a compelling pitch. Barry Finlay will keep you turning the pages.” – Rick Mofina, Bestselling Author of FREE FALL

  THE VANISHING WIFE

  AN ACTION-PACKED CRIME THRILLER

  “I had a hard time not just giving up the rest of my life and reading this in one sitting.” – Vaughan Hopkins, Amazon reviewer

  “The pace grabs hold. Whether the mild-mannered accountant Mason Seaforth could actually pull off what’s at stake depends on the colour, the energy and dialogue of the story telling. The Vanishing Wife is convincing.” – Donald Graves, Canadian Crime Reviews

  KILIMANJARO AND BEYOND

  A LIFE-CHANGING JOURNEY

  “The book reads like a journal and the writing is warm, familiar and humorous. ‘Kilimanjaro and Beyond, A Life-Changing Journey,’ will challenge all who read it to consider how they too can make a difference, not only for others, but for themselves as well.” – Reader Views

  “…at once so inspirational and courageous, so human and humane, and so deeply personal that the reader feels they are climbing right along with this small and highly determined group.” – Reverend Dr. Linda De Coff, Author, Bridge of the Gods

  I GUESS WE MISSED THE BOAT

  A TRAVEL MEMOIR

  “This is an exhilarating read.” -– Grady Harp, Amazon Hall of Fame reviewer

  “I Guess We Missed the Boat is a fresh, ironic and jovial travel adventure novel in which each traveler can recognize himself or herself. It is a travel book that is amusing and practical at the same time.” – Reader Views

  The Burden of Darkness

  A Marcie Kane and Nathan Harris Thriller

  Published by Keep On Climbing Publishing

  Copyright ©Barry Finlay 2020

  (613) 240-6953

  [email protected]

  www.barry-finlay.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a license from Access Copyright (The Canadian Licensing Agency) 320-56 Wellesley Street West, Toronto, Ontario, M5S 2S3

  Cataloguing data available at Library and Archives Canada.

  ISBN: 978-1-7771395-0-6

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  About The Author

  The Marcie Kane Thriller Collection

  Barry Finlay’s Non-Fiction Titles

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The theme of The Burden of Darkness is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and the effect it can have on people’s lives. It’s the story of how one person tries to overcome PTSD with the help of friends, loved ones, and professionals. I was thinking at the time of writing the story that PTSD primarily affects military personnel, firefighters, police officers… In short, people who run toward a harmful situation while the rest of us run in the opposite direction. COVID-19 wasn’t even a blip on the radar.

  That all changed. Because of the war on COVID-19, several people will, unfortunately, be added to the list of PTSD sufferers. They are the front-line workers who have suddenly and unexpectedly found themselves in harm’s way. We owe an immense debt of gratitude to the health care workers and those designated as essential service employees who are doing their jobs so we can enjoy life when the virus runs its course. It’s impossible to thank them enough, but it’s something we need to constantly try to do long after this is over. I hope the world will be a kinder, gentler place when we are back to whatever the new normal is, and for those whose work takes a mental toll during this extraordinary time, I hope you can find the help you need.

  As usual, many people were involved in the writing of my book. I have attempted to depict Nathan Harris’s case of PTSD in The Burden of Darkness as realistically as possible. Any errors in fact or detail are mine.

  I would like to start by thanking Zsuzsanna Grandpierre, Registered Psychotherapist and ADHD Coach, for providing documentation and explaining the treatments available to PTSD sufferers. Her involvement was invaluable in helping me walk Nathan Harris through his journey. Julie Jolicoeur, retired Primary Care Paramedic, helped me understand the daily challenges of PTSD and the triggers that most of us, thankfully, don’t have to worry about. I will be forever grateful for learning more about the subject from Julie.

  Thanks to Bob Berthelet
for sharing his knowledge of flying single-engine aircraft and to Uday Jaswal, Deputy Chief of the Ottawa Police Service, who helped me work through some of the police procedural issues. Both gentlemen helped provide authenticity to the story and I’m deeply grateful.

  An enormous thank you also goes out to the early readers of the manuscript who offered their suggestions and made The Burden of Darkness a better book.

  Of course, a book isn’t complete until it’s edited and has a cover. I sincerely want to thank Elizabeth Love at Bee-Edited for her efforts at cleaning up the manuscript and Mirna Gilman at Books Go Social for designing the cover. I very much appreciate the work of these two professionals.

  A huge thank you goes out to you, the reader. It’s you who keep me writing. Your reviews and comments are encouraging and motivation to write more. Thank you for introducing friends, family, and book clubs to my books. I appreciate each one of you.

  Finally, a very special thank you to my wife Evelyn who is my biggest fan. Evelyn reads every one of my manuscripts, offers comments, and is just as anxious to see what’s going to happen as I am. In the end, the manuscript is always better as a result of her comments, and her ongoing encouragement and unwavering support are a major foundation for each of my books.

  The year 2020 will always be remembered as the year of the virus war, but it will be special to my wife and I for another reason. We will be celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary, so this book is dedicated to Evelyn with love. May there be many more books and many more anniversaries.

  Chapter One

  The soot-black clouds roiling above the bay and the waves pounding against the shore foreshadowed difficult hours ahead. Marcie Kane’s reflection stared back as she watched the approaching storm at the window with her arms crossed. The condo she shared with her husband, Nathan Harris, overlooked the beach and pool area at Boca Ciega Bay in St. Petersburg, Florida. Sunbathers, who moments earlier baked their oiled bodies on the lounges dotting the pool deck, scrambled for cover. Some fought to lower patio umbrellas whipped and tugged by the wind. Tall grass along the steps leading to the beach twisted violently back and forth as if shaken by an unseen hand. Miles of soft white sand, normally teeming with life, were now devoid of foot traffic except for a few stragglers and a woman chasing a runaway dog as it barked with excitement, its leash trailing behind.

  The pool maintenance crew folded chairs and stacked them against the wall of the beach house as the first wind-driven drops knocked on the window in front of Marcie’s face. She turned toward her husband, who lay snoring softly on his side on the couch, oblivious to the impending storm and the television set blaring in front of him. She thought the neighbors would soon pound on the door since Nathan had the volume turned to ear-splitting levels.

  It was a typical scene. Nathan either slept too much during the day or not at all at night. If Marcie didn’t wake him, the thunder would when it arrived. And then he would be in a full-blown panic attack. She regarded her husband. She loved him very much, but he was not the man she married. His tangled hair looked like he hadn’t bothered to run a comb through it. His normal, stylish, thick stubble looked more like an unkempt failed attempt at growing a beard. Fleshy, dark half-moons sagged under his eyes, making him appear older than his 46 years. The last button of his shirt hung open above his belt, exposing white flesh that had high-jacked his abs.

  Marcie was becoming increasingly concerned about her husband and more convinced that his personality changed because of the explosion and fire in the hotel in Tampa that had almost claimed her life. He was pounding on the outside of the locked door when the blast occurred. Only her quick thinking saved her and the others in the room, including the president of the United States.

  They married soon after the incident, leaving her FBI-consultant husband no time to process the events of that night. Nathan seemed okay after the wedding and on their honeymoon, although nightmares robbed him of his rest. Since the honeymoon, Nathan became withdrawn and quiet, often numb and detached from his surroundings. He stopped working, the gym was a distant memory, and he had little enthusiasm for anything. It seemed like he struggled between letting her do what she wanted and being with her constantly to provide the protection he thought she needed. She had suggested help, but he insisted he was fine.

  Marcie leaned over her sleeping husband and kissed his dry, open lips, his semi-beard like sandpaper on her skin. Nathan gasped, opened his eyes, and blinked the sleep away.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “Love you too.” His response was unenthusiastic, but she understood he meant it.

  “I thought I should wake you. There’s a storm coming.”

  Nathan pushed down on his elbows and slid back to leverage himself to a sitting position with his back braced against the arm of the sofa. It afforded Marcie room to sit beside him. She picked up the remote as she sat and aimed it at the television to reduce the volume to normal levels.

  She grabbed Nathan’s hand and placed her other hand on top of his. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Nathan pushed his free hand through his unkempt hair, blinking the crusty debris from his eyes as he did. “Sure, what’s up?” It was a mumble slurred with sleep.

  Marcie trod carefully in the past, but previous conversations on the subject had not gone well. The inevitability of another panic attack with the approaching thunder encouraged her to address it head-on this time. “Have you noticed you haven’t been yourself lately? You aren’t taking care of yourself like you used to. You’re not sleeping during the night, and you’re spending all day on the sofa. You’re not eating, you’re...”

  Nathan interrupted. “Marcie, I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  Marcie snuggled closer and smiled. “Care to share?”

  “I don’t know. Just things. Do we have to talk about this again?”

  “I’m just worried about you. You had another nightmare last night, didn’t you?” A rhetorical question. Nathan had shot bolt upright in bed, trembling and in a cold sweat. Marcie sat with her arms around him, assuring him everything was all right for a full twenty minutes before he settled down, but he hadn’t slept. “Can you tell me about it?”

  “I don’t know. Just a jumble of things. There isn’t one thing that stands out. It probably won’t happen again.”

  There was the denial. The nightmares happened more often than either of them cared to admit. Denial had become so common lately that Marcie expected it. She tried a blunt approach.

  “Well, I think you need help. You’re irritable and just not yourself. The thunder will bother you just like it always does, and I’m certain it’s because of the explosion. We haven’t talked much about that night in Tampa, and I think we should.”

  Nathan directed his eyes at the carpet. “What about Tampa?”

  Marcie recounted the official dinner they were invited to by the president’s chief of staff because of Nathan’s work on a case. Marcie was not a fan of the president but agreed to attend. She had been kicking herself ever since for not convincing Nathan to avoid the function. An assassin from China tried to eliminate the president by sealing the doors and setting off a massive explosion. Nathan had been out of the room when the resultant fire erupted, and only Marcie’s quick thinking saved most of the attendees, although several injuries ensued, and two FBI agents lost their lives.

  “You did everything possible. You identified the assassin and figured out what would happen. If it hadn’t been for your warning, we would’ve all died in the ballroom, including the president. It gave us time to move everyone away from the explosion. But reliving the experience is affecting you and us.” She placed her hand under his chin, tilted his head up and looked into his eyes. “Will you, please, at least give some thought to seeing a counselor?”

  Nathan drew his head back, leaving her hand hanging in midair. He pushed himself off the sofa and turned to his wife. His face reddened from the collar up, and his voice shook with barely controlled anger.
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  “Marcie, for the last time, I don’t need counseling. I’m fine. I’m only irritable because you keep asking me what my problem is. You keep insisting I’m not okay, but I think I am.”

  The raging storm outside had chased away the daylight. A crackling flash lit the darkening room, followed by a rumble that shook the windows. The sensors in the modern condo clicked on the lights as if it had suddenly become ten o’clock at night.

  At the sound of the thunder, Marcie saw Nathan’s shoulders tighten, and a frown brought his eyebrows together as he flung his arms around himself in a tight hug. When the thunder subsided, he let his arms drop and spun on his heel toward the hall leading to the bedroom. As he did, he said something that sent a shiver slithering down Marcie’s spine.

  His words echoed in her ears. “Oh, and I remember the dinner and you lying in the hospital in Tampa, but I have no idea what you’re talking about other than that. I just don’t remember any explosion.”

  Chapter Two

  Holly Winston pulled on her red wind-resistant jacket and white toque to prepare for her run. It was the perfect time as the kids were off to school and she didn’t have to be at work until later. She checked herself in her bedroom mirror. Her blonde hair peeked out from the bottom of her toque. She was proud of her porcelain skin, so she frowned at the hint of wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of her lake-blue eyes. All the frown accomplished was to emphasize the wrinkles. She shrugged. I guess it comes with being in my late thirties.

  Turning away from the mirror, she bounded downstairs where she pulled on her running shoes, grabbed her gloves, and set the security alarm. She was still rattled from the alarm’s wailing siren that shattered the darkness and sent her heart on a frenzied mission to beat a path out of her chest a few hours earlier. She had sat bolt upright in bed and was relieved to see the familiar lamps and paintings and the blue robe she tossed on the chair the night before. She shook her head as she left the house, realizing how seldom she set the alarm, even though her military-husband was on a mission in Cyprus. A rash of burglaries in Barrhaven, south of Canada’s capital of Ottawa, encouraged her to arm it last night, and her 12-year-old daughter, up early to finish a school project, nearly gave her a heart attack when she opened the garage door to look for some cardboard.