Super Secret Numma Stories

 

MONSTER WEATHER

WRITTEN BY NUMMAMAN

 

In the Nevada desert a storm blew through with no warning. It developed on land and now we will find out how. James Johnson is the only one with footage from the storm and now he’s being questioned by an FBI agent named John Jones. Later they discover seeing the tape could be more dangerous than the storm itself. After they’ve seen it the real adventure begins. Get ready for an epic adventure with a dangerous conspiracy unforgettable characters and unbelievable plot twist.

Monster Weather, the real storm begins.

 

 

 

Chapter One

Stormed

 

 

James Johnson was running for his life. This was the strongest storm since Hurricane Emily. This storm had formed so quickly--on dry land; scientists were baffled.

      James was no scientist, but this had never happened before. It was so strong that it was called the very first category six Hurricane in the world.

      His brother, Joe, was filming the storm. He was covered with muscles and very smart. Unlike most strong people, he didn’t play sports or any other physical activity. He loved books and board games, instead.

      The winds had accelerated and were getting stronger by the minute. James saw a cave.

      “We should get inside before the center of the storm reaches here,” James said loudly.

      “Are you kidding?” Joe said. “This stuff is awesome bro.”

      The rocky Nevada desert was filled with boulders and rocks. The storm had been so strong that it made so much rainfall that the water was four foot deep. From far away you could see water splash into the small rock formations. Joe and he were at first excited to see that but now James was more concerned with his feet not holding on and him falling to the ground.

      Joe watched the wave’s crash, excited, waiting for the next big splash, as the winds got worse and worse.

      After two minutes, James couldn’t stand anymore. The hail started falling and his feet couldn’t take it. In a desperate attempt to hold onto life, he ran to the cave.

      “Wait, Brother,” Joe said, “this is good stuff.”

      A freak tornado fell from the sky. James tried to yell over the noise of the storm, but he couldn’t be heard over the sky’s loud roar.

      James ran to the cave with all of his strength. Joe ran, but not as fast, cause the tornado was closer to Joe. With a loud cry for help, Joe disappeared for good.

      James could not do a thing, so he just lied in the cave alone. That’s the last anyone heard of Joe Johnson.

      The last thing James remembers, water crashed down on him.

      He blacked out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Mysterious Weather

One year later

 

 

 

 

 

 

Detective John Jones, the FBI’s best man, had an important mission ahead. He was going to break into an abandoned warehouse, and catch some thieves. They had stolen many chemicals which could cause a chain reaction that could make a deadly poison. The poison could kill many people. The FBI had been on this case for years before finding what they found today.

      John was a light brown haired man, twenty-nine, who loved solving cases, and who loved his car. Since the FBI gave him a bigger pay check than most jobs, he got himself a Corvette, the best car in the world; to John.

John as a kid always wanted to do what he does today. The FBI took a lot of observation and strength. To be on top, you had to act on top. He was no genius, but he knew a clue when he saw one, and that impressed many people, including the Chief.

      His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. Caller ID said Chief. He answered, “Hello.”

      “Hello, John Jones,” Chief said. “Are you there yet, John?”

      “I’m almost there, Chief.”

      “Good. Then, don’t go,” Chief said.

      “Why not, Chief,” John said.

      “There’s a bigger case we must discuss,” Chief said.

      “Chief,” John said, “I think this could be the biggest of the year. We’ve been tracking these people for two years, and just now they appear. This could make national history.”

      “Well, this is world history we need to discuss.”

      “What?” John said.

      “It’s about the storm that hit one year ago.”

      “I thought that mystery was called unsolved. There are no leads. Not many people will talk about it. No footage from the storm.”

      “It appears we were wrong. Some-body caught footage from the storm. A local from Nevada finally talked about what happened.”

      “He filmed a video of the storm?” John said.

      “No. But he knows who did. His name is Joe Johnson, but he died.”

      “Then there are no leads,” John said impatiently.

      “But his brother is alive, and he was with him when he filmed it. If we can get that tape we have ourselves a lead. Which mean this case is back in the public eye, so people don’t think we’re doing nothing to stop it from happening again. Good bye, Jones. I hope we solve this case.”

      He hung up.

      “And so it begins.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

The Lead

 

 

James had a long year, most of it spent in the hospital. After he came out of the hospital, he helped to clear up what was left after the storm, or pastoring his small little house church. These things kept him from dwelling on the horrible thing that happened one year ago. He knew that whatever happened, somewhere out there, somebody was trying to solve this mystery.

      “James,” one of his friends said, “I think that somebody wants yah. He claims to be one of the FBI’s greatest agents. His name is Detective John Jones. He says it has something to do with that tape of yours.”

      Wally was his name. He was Irish, brownish blondish hair, not all that strong, and skinny. Wally had been known to lie, but what if he was telling the truth? This guy might have the answers to all of their questions. He knew he didn’t put the tape on YouTube, so how did he find out about it? Bob! He was a blabber mouth, that hillbilly. He would have a talk with him after the stranger was gone.

      “Tell that stranger ‘whatever it is you’re talking about, I’m not the one who filmed it.’”

      “He knows,” Wally said. “He was asking for the poor bloke’s brother.”

 

 

 

_______

 

 

Detective John Jones sat patiently, waiting for the guy to show up. He didn’t know if this guy was lying, or not, but if this guy were to show up, he could save the world from a serious threat. John was sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts, sipping his hot cocoa. Sometimes he would get a donut to go with it, but this was not the time. There was too much going on today. His biggest case ever; and he was waiting for this guy to show up.

      He saw a young, dark brown haired man, no older than nineteen, with a sad look about him. He would be sad, too, if he lost his brother. He greeted him with a, “Hello James Johnson. How are you?”

      But the man sat down, not paying any attention to John.

      “I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.”

      “I don’t care what you have to say,” James said.

      “Listen,” John said angrily, “I’m trying to save people like your brother, so no one else has to lose somebody they loved.”

      “It’s not only my brother who’s now dead,” James said.

      “Who else is there?”

      “Everybody!” James said angrily, “my father, my brother, my sister; my mom’s all I have left!”

      He paused for a moment.

      “I’m sorry James.”

      James calmed down and spoke, “So. Are you wondering what happened? I can show you the tape, but it’s very blurry.”

      “Thank you, James,” John said. “I have a good feeling about this case.”

      “So, let’s go to mom’s house,” James said.

      “What?” John said.

      “That where the tape is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

Road Block

 

 

 

James did not feel like this stranger was going to help one bit, but he gave him a shot. This Detective seemed to think this was a waste of time, but he didn’t say a thing about it. Anyways, he might solve the case, and save somebody else’s brother.

      There was a pile of sticks and branches blocking the road. The car stopped with a big swerve. Then they got out to clear the road. It wasn’t uncommon to find such a road block on the roads in this area. But this wasn’t the kind of street to see one. Most were out on the main highway.

      They came to where the wood was, and noticed that the wood was wet. It was a dry day. They moved it, and saw a dead body. They jumped back, scared to death. It looked like somebody important.

      John looked like he was about to cry. Whoever this strong man, dark haired guy was, he was somebody John knew.

      “Who is that?”

      “Chief; it’s the chief. He must’ve gone on that mission instead of me.”

      James didn’t ask another question. It must have been hard for John. This man was soaked with blood. The Chief had died.

      Whoever killed him didn’t shoot him; he stabbed him, because that looked like a stab wound, not a bullet wound.

      James quickly dialed nine-one-one. Within second he was connected to an operator.

      “Hello,” James said, “I need an ambulance. The Chief is down. I repeat; Chief is down!”

      “What Chief, sir?”

      “What’s the Chief’s name, John?”

      “Chief…” John said pausing. “Chief George Francis!”

      “Chief George Francis!” James said.

      “Where are you, sir?”

      James was getting tired of this. “Highway 455.”

      “Ambulance will be there in five minutes or less,” the operator said.

      “We don’t have five minutes, you here me!” James yelled.

      Then the operator hung up on them. James was furious. He had spent five minutes on the phone, and now he had to wait five more minutes waiting for an ambulance.

      He quickly said, “Does he have a pulse?”

      “Very small pulse,” John said, “but just enough to survive till the ambulance gets here, and saves him.”

      Four and a half minute’s later their in-sight. James said, “Hallelujah, praise God!”

      There were ten there. One pulled over by them, and three men jumped out. Nine others sped past.

      “Where are those ambulances going?” James asked.

      “Didn’t you here?” one guy said. “This is one of many stops. There are lots Out there injured.”