Had the bulldog known all along? Had he just not told Paladin?
Paladin stared at the bulldog, lazing in his cage as easily and nonchalantly as if napping on a summer day. The pandemonium of the world around seemed to fade for a moment. The thought came to Paladin’s mind: should he, too, just lay back and wait for the inevitable? Bull seemed so calm and peaceful! Should Paladin just accept what was happening as his fate?
In the next instant, it was Bull who answered the question. The bulldog looked at Paladin, licked his lips, and grumbled, “Get outta here, kid!” He winked one of his yellowish, bloodshot eyes, and lowered his head to his forepaws and slept.
From somewhere above came the dreamy sound of Geronimo’s harmonica—a brief panacea in the chaos. Paladin looked at Bull a moment longer. He barely knew the dog, but felt a wave of compassion and admiration for him. Paladin wanted to go to him, to stay with him, wondered if they would become lifelong friends. The moment passed and all other sounds crashed into focus again. Maddening, hysterical screams invaded his brain, seeming to come from around and above him. Far away, the distant whine of a siren could be heard.
But the sudden feel of icy water goaded Paladin to action.
High above, the water bubbled violently into the truck through the small window. In the ever-increasing dimness, Paladin saw the water punching through other weaknesses in the hull of the truck as well. Walls gave way, and tiny geysers appeared here and there, as if the interior of the truck had been fitted with some kind of sprinkler system. Water cascaded down the wall in rivulets, its dark color lending the impression of a many-fingered monster reaching out for him. As it pooled around him, the freezing temperature forced the air from his lungs. To say the water was cold would misrepresent exactly how it felt when it touched him. The water was not cold: it was cruel. Heartless. Hungry. Paladin found himself surrounded by it. He realized he was going to die. He would be taken down beneath the surface of this liquid midnight, and there he would hold his breath until he could no longer do so. The cold would creep inside and claim him.
“NO!!!”
Paladin shot from underneath the papers and desk clutter that had been thrown over him and went for the cage nearest to him. It was the Chihuahua. “Let mee out!” it cried. “Let mee out!” The wide-eyed Chihuahua jumped up and down as Paladin frantically pawed at the padlock. He had no way of getting it open. Paladin peered in the cage at the frightened face of the Chihuahua and found he had no idea what to say. The Chihuahua’s eyes were the last thing Paladin saw before the lights in the back of the truck violently blew out.
More water poured in. The pressure in the sinking rig increased. Paladin could hear the sides of the truck buckling and giving way under the strain.
“Jemimah!” he cried in the dark.
“Paladin!” A distant cry.
“Jemimah!” Paladin looked this way and that, trying to discern which direction the voice came from. His eyes stung with a spray of frigid water. All was dark, and wet, and cold.
“Paladin!” The response was further away and fading. On the heels of it he heard: “Get ouuuuut!!!”
Paladin cried a third time, but there was no response. More and more of the rig slid underwater.
“Rabbeet!” a voice panted in the dark next to him. “Rabbeet!” the Chihuahua said. “Go, rabbeet, go! Save yourself! There ees notheeng you can do!” Paladin stared into the darkness from where the voice of the Chihuahua came. He could make out no features, but he could smell the dog’s breath, sweet and warm in the icy air. Paladin put his face to the Chihuahua’s cage and licked the dog’s nose frantically in the dark. He didn’t know what else to do. It was his way of offering what little comfort he could in the situation. “Go, my friend!” the Chihuahua whispered. His voice quivered. “Go!”
Paladin found himself torn between survival instincts and a deep desire to stay with the Chihuahua. Whatever conflict he felt was suddenly ripped from him as the rear wall of the truck finally gave way. The dark, cold waters of Dakota Lake raged in. The flood grabbed Paladin and he was pushed past all the other cages toward the far end with incredible speed. In the darkness he caught fleeting glimpses of unnamed faces as he raced past. In the water next to him a rat paddled and squeaked madly. All Paladin could think about was that he had never asked the Chihuahua’s name.
Paladin slammed against the rear doors of the semi and saw bright stars. The force of the water blew one of the doors open, and water rushed out. The other door remained closed and the sinking vehicle tilted and became lopsided in the water. Paladin paddled within a rapidly shrinking enclosure of air—a triangular roof had formed between the door that had not opened and one side of the vehicle’s interior. Paladin wondered if the rat had escaped.
In the door of the truck above him was another small grated window. Paladin pressed his face to it, gasping for air. He could see the cold grey sky above. Birds drifted by, paying no attention to the scene below. The dealings of the elahs would not have interested the chendrith. Paladin watched them and suddenly found himself wondering what the Son was doing at this very moment. He wished he could see the Son one last time. Thoughts of his own ma and da floated in—thoughts of Tanglewood, and digging runs, tortilla chips, Bear, and taking naps. Paladin experienced what people mean when they speak of their life flashing before their eyes.
Sadness and nostalgia were pushed aside as Paladin suddenly desired to die with dignity, the way his da had. The triangular-shaped space he was in was shrinking. The frigid temperature of Dakota Lake was causing the internal temperature of his body to plummet. It became increasingly difficult to stay afloat. His limbs were numb. Beneath that, he also noticed an odd feeling of warmth, and a crazy desire to go to sleep. He thought of Bull, and took in a huge mouthful of water. Paladin could not have known, but he was beginning to freeze to death.
His enclosure was almost gone now. Paladin’s face and nose pressed against the small window grating. High above on the bridge, a group of human onlookers had gathered. From where they stood, most of the eighteen-wheeled truck was almost completely submerged now. Within moments, the wreck would only be memory. Just one corner of one of the back doors remained above the surface of Dakota Lake now, and it disappeared quickly, bubbling and seething as it went. From the darkness behind the small grated window in the truck door, no one would have noticed the small, damp, whiskered face peeking through.
Except one.
As the grating of the small window leveled out with the water’s surface, Paladin tried to call for help. His voice was feeble and waterlogged. His teeth chattered so badly that no sound really came out, only a pitiful kind of grunting. He stole one last gulp of air, and then saw only the blurred vision of being underwater; his sharp hearing transformed into the dull, nether-hearing of underwater sounds. Darkness engulfed him.
All at once – either because of water pressure or something to do with the actual mechanism – the closed rear door of the rig where Paladin had been trapped popped open. Paladin spewed from the vehicle as trapped water escaped. Cold though he was, Paladin kicked toward the surface. His body was limp and weak, and he was more pushed along by the current of the lake than anything. He drifted from where the truck had entered the water, and could just make out the sinking vehicle disappearing into the depths below. The sight seemed so final, and Paladin decided to stop struggling. He simply waited to float to the surface. His mouth hung open; his eyes stared blankly through the cold, dark waters. The moment seemed to stop.
He broke the surface of the lake and bobbed lifelessly. Water lapped at his numb body and he passed in and out of consciousness. It seemed so useless and ironic that he had escaped the sinking vehicle. He had lost so much energy and been in the water for so long now that he would not survive anyway. The shore of the lake might have been miles away.
His perception was askew. Things seemed strangely reversed.
The world had grown dark, while shadows advanced to the fore, shining in brightness. A huge, white
hand pierced the sky above and reached down to draw him from the waters.
This is it, Paladin thought—a dark thought from what was left of his rational mind.
I am crossing over into the next world.
He was dimly aware of a pulling sensation behind his ears, and it seemed to him that he was drawn from the waters. He rose above the surface of the lake, his dripping body buffeted by a cold blast of air. Paladin desperately tried to look around to see who had him. But the struggle was too much.
Darkness eventually took him, and Paladin knew no more.
§
What actually happened was this:
The swift current of Dakota Lake swept Paladin along until he flowed into the dark shadow of the bridge high overhead. Once there – safely out of sight of any of the elahs onlookers – a huge white Dove dived straight for the rabbit. The Dove had watched the entire scene, hidden like a phantom within the shadows under the bridge. With a speed and agility that could only be described as otherworldly, the large white Dove seized the sinking rabbit by the loose skin behind the neck. Slowly, triumphantly, the Dove drew the rabbit from the waters, and rose. Without a sound – without being seen by a single onlooker – the mysterious white Dove flew swiftly away, bearing the inert form of the rabbit toward the safety of the nearby tree line.
And then even further beyond.
§
Paladin woke slowly.
It was black. Then it was dim. He opened his eyes to a world that was out of focus. Even when he could make out shapes, they were not familiar. His gaze moved around the alien environment, searching for anything he might recognize. Painfully, he sat up and noticed one thing: a word—a single word, hanging in the darkness.
Paladin stared at the sign a long moment.
“Sanctuary,” Paladin whispered.
Then he heard voices; nearby, whispering in the dark.
Paladin strained to see.
And something came for him out of the shadows!
TO BE CONTINUED IN
PALADIN BOOK 2:
The Mission Begins
FEBRUARY 2016
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
A Note on the language:
I have done my best to accurately present the chendrith slah – or language of the animals – in this story. It is hardly precise to call it a language, as the chendrith do not communicate with a “language” the way you and I might think of language. They have within their alphabet (if we may call it that) letters known as srabs. These are neither vowels nor consonants. Since these srabs are unknown to us, they cannot be recorded in this account. So, one begins to understand the difficulty in trying to convey their manner of speech; not to mention the subtleties which exist between each of their varying species. The simplest comparison I can make is to that of differing tribal dialects amongst humans, or accents. There is a common tongue with which they speak. I have done my best to present this as accurately as I can. Below follows a glossary of terms, pronunciations, and loose translations which appear within this installment of Paladin. For later books, this glossary will be expanded and revised to include additional terms.
Arjo E’alu – n. /AR-jo-ee-AH-loo/ – long-fabled fields of water; the ocean.
Black strip(s) – n. /blak strip/ – road or roads, understood from the animal perspective.
Cage-box – n. /kāj bäks/ – Paladin’s word for a television set.
Chendray – n. /shen-DRAY/ – the woods; forest.
Chendrith – n. /SHEN-drith/ – woodlanders; all animals living in the forest.
Chendrith slah – n. / SHEN-drith SLAH/ – the language of the woodlanders.
Ctiansu – n. /see-AHN-soo/ – cow(s).
Dupan – n. /DOO-pahn/ – the moon; big night light.
Dupani – n. /DOO-pahn-EE/ – stars; small night lights.
Elahs – n. /EE-loss/ – man (men).
Elahs slah – n. /EE-loss SLAH/ – man voices; man speech.
Elahs ichto – n. /EE-loss ICK- tō/ – man sounds.
Elahs peilo – n. /EE-loss pee-ī-lō/ – man thing.
Estaclah – n. /EES-tah-klah/ – a closed council of rabbits.
Firhouse – n. /FER-hous/ – one of the rabbit warennes.
Huathos – n. /hoo-AHH-thōs/ – man place.
Kebarra – n. /kee-BARR-ahh/ – a great hero of rabbit mythology.
Lapine – n. /LAY pīn/ – from the French word for rabbit, lapin; used to describe rabbit society.
Loehs-Anneheg – n. /loyt-ah-NESH/ – the most common chendrith name for the evil deep within the woods; the Scientific Improvement Network facility.
Milpas – n. /mil-POSS/ – rabbit word for brother(s) or comrades.
Mullingar – n. /məl-in-garr/ – the Mighty Rabbit Hunter of rabbit mythology; a rabbit constellation.
Nuad – n. /NOO-äd/ – male rabbit.
Rhainmor Dispersions – an historical event in the history of Tanglewood warenne.
Srab – n. /sir-ahb/ – letters in the chendrith language that are neither vowel nor consonant.
Tanglewood – n. /taNGɡəl-wo͝od/ – one of the rabbit warennes.
Teinche – n. /TEN-chay) – rabbit title for wise leader (chief rabbit).
Warenne – n. (Old English) / wawr-uh n/ – a place where rabbits breed or abound.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kevin J. Fitzgerald began acting and singing at an early age with the “Atlanta Workshop Players.” After winning numerous awards (including the Young Georgia Author’s Award) and a full dance scholarship, Kevin transitioned to writing and directing, where he discovered he possessed a knack for story-telling and bringing a vision to life.
Kevin has written, produced, and directed dozens of original stage productions, exploring multiple genres, one of which was released as a radio-play. He is a prolific songwriter and has recorded on a professional level in Nashville, TN. and Dublin, Ireland. He has produced three CD’s. His bestselling novel – UnAlive – released in 2015, with the feature film currently in development. He has published numerous short stories, including The Zombie Race, as part of the award-winning anthology The Gathering Horde (ATZ Publications).
The Evil Within the Woods marks Kevin’s first release in an epic six-part fantasy/adventure series called Paladin. Part 2, The Mission Begins, is currently set for release in early 2016.
Kevin and his family lived in Dublin, Ireland for more than ten years. A gifted communicator, Kevin has been invited to speak at conferences around the world in Spain, Brazil, Scandinavia, South Africa, Hungary, Ukraine, France, Germany, Austria, Poland, Slovenia, England, and the U.S. He and his wife Amanda have two children, Mandy-Gail and Késon, with a third child due December, 2015. They currently reside in Braselton, Georgia.
To Contact Kevin:
Kevin J. Fitzgerald
PHONE: (678) 863-6224
WEB: www.kjfwriter.com
EMAIL: [email protected]
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/KJFWriter
TWITTER: @KJFWriter
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