by Gary Foshee
mud. Rocks landed all around Caboose missing him by inches.
He tried to keep his footing on the uneven barbed trail but each step proved more challenging than the next. With the slide closing fast, he lost his footing and slid down the mountainside about fifteen feet. He regained his balance and continued pace.
“Run for the boulder it will shield you from the rocks.”
Up ahead, protruding from the slope, a large boulder dueled
with the rocks, holding the mountainside at bay, beckoning for
Caboose to hurry. He ran and, with barely a second to spare, dove behind the boulder. The bulk of the mountainside rolled over the boulder and slid past him.
That was close, thought Caboose, looking himself over for
cuts and scratches.
Urium flew over and landed on top of the boulder. He looked
down, “We better keep moving,” said Urium, studying the top,
scouting for something.
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“What is it? Did you see something?”
“No, but something triggered the landslide. I’m afraid our
presence is no longer a secret.”
A loud crash echoed above. Someone or something landed
on the rocks, then another and another. With rocks tumbling
down again all around Caboose, Urium, standing on the boulder,
yelled, “Run!”
Caboose turned to run and caught a quick glint of a dark
leathery beast with raised veins landing on the slopes above him.
He knew with his short leg he didn’t stand much of a chance
going in a straight line across the loose unstable gravel. But going downhill was different. He turned and jumped over and over,
landing and bounding, landing and bounding—he looked like a
large croaker trying to escape the jaws of a water chomper.
Banished Ragooles, fire-breathing monsters that patrolled
the sky, closed in from all sides. They couldn’t see Caboose but they could smell him. Large lightning rods of fire scorched the
rocks turning everything to stubble and ash.
Caboose, nearing the valley below, spotted a glowing red lava
creek lined with old tree stumps and bushes. He needed to reach
the creek before they caught up with him. Hearing the noise and
smelling the ash several gogs, howlers and a Magondrea snuck
out from the tree line and positioned themselves while fighting
each other, to intercept him. He spotted them and slid to a stop.
Trapped, he panicked and whirled around looking for another
way out.
“Dragon’s breath,” carried down the slope as Urium distracted
the Ragooles. Caboose reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of dragon’s breath. He struggled to open it. He final y put it in his mouth, bit down on the cork and popped it out with his teeth.
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Grayish-white dragon’s breath rose out of the bottle twisting
and winding around every rock, tree, and beast, filling the valley with a heavy fog. Sounds of fighting could faintly be heard over by the tree line as an eerie silence descended on the creek bed.
Flashes of light flickered through the breath as Ragooles spewed out fire trying to locate him.
Caboose, walking on pins and needles, made his way through
the thick breath. He approached what he thought was the creek
but mistakenly walked right under the jaws of the Magondrea.
Once again, brown slimy slobber covered him and oozed down
between his ears. His eyes followed the beast’s leg, torso, and
neck all the way up to its enormous teeth, inches from Caboose’s nose. This time the beast saw him. Nose-to-nose, Caboose froze
with fright. His legs trembled and his lips quivered. An agonizing decay crept into his heart.
He reached into the bag of dragon’s teeth and dropped a few
of them on the ground. The Magondrea growled and opened its
mouth. Caboose, waiting for the dragon’s teeth to do something,
felt deathly alone. The beast drew back and attacked, scarcely hitting him. He jumped into the breath trying to hide, but ran right into a howler, knocking it backwards. They both rolled across the ground and struggled to come out on top.
The howler broke free, spun around and grabbed Caboose,
embedding his claws deep into his hind leg. It chiseled its way
up his petrified body, still frozen stiff with fear. With Caboose pinned to the ground, six-inch fangs sunk deep into his neck,
spilling his life blood all over the ground.
The Magondrea smelled the blood and emerged from the
breath. It grabbed the howler and thrust it upwards into the air.
Without missing a beat, the howler jumped on the Magondrea
and bit its back. They both disappeared into the breath.
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Caboose lay motionless on the ground struggling to breathe.
The dark red dirt licked up his lifeblood, ever so slyly trying to escape with his soul. Tears rolled down his cheeks making small
puddles below. He thought of his Papa and all the wonderful
times they had had playing down at the banks of The Redmadafa
with his mother and sister. He could hear the kids at school
singing and playing hop-addy-hop. He even saw Mack and the
lixoars chasing him after school—he remembered how he use to
give them the slip at Feathered Friends Gatehouse—the back al y had several loose boards allowing him to slip through without
them noticing.
“Papa…Help me Papa. Please forgive me…Please forgive
me…for bringing…you here.”
* * * * * * *
Humans, creatures and beasts lined the aisles and overflowed
down the hal ways spilling out into the outer courts. With all eyes and ears affixed to his every move, the mighty eagle rose from
his seat and glided over to the ambo. He feasted his eyes on the crowd and examined the ceilings and windows. He leered out
across the temple; every seat filled to capacity, every mind standing at attention. In eloquence and splendor he spoke:
“Today, my wise and faithful priest advocated that I tell
you my name and explain to you the place of my abode.
Far be it from me to disappoint my children, many of
whom he claimed had lost faith;” numerous eyes water-
falled to the floor, while others, with pious heads held
high and glassing around, bobbed their heads, shaking
invisible fingers relaying the message, ‘Shame on you.’
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He dipped his head low, in a reverent act of humil-
ity, while slanting his eyes toward Onuka, and addressed
the crowd. “I…humbly…come before you this night to
declare to you my name and the origin of my genesis.” He
marched boldly across the altar, raised his head, spread
his wings and proclaimed in a boisterous voice, “The ori-
gin of my genesis is at the fiery stones of Zion, The Holy
Mountain of His Majesty!”
Goose bumps canvassed the crowd, jumping and
crawling over every captive soul, tickling their awe
inspired ears. “I was the model of perfection, full of wis-
dom and perfect in beauty. I’ve walked in Eden. I was
adorned with every precious jewel known to man and
beast. My settings and mountings were made of pure
gold. But,” looking back at Onuka, “For love, I left it al ,
to come down to this circle and dwell with my childr
en.
Gold and silver are like dross before me and could never
take the place of the beauty…I see in you. This is the
hour and the day you have all been waiting for. I have
come to take you home.
Why now, you may wonder? An evil serpent has
swept across this kingdom and has infiltrated every level
of law and government. He now lies in wait to destroy
this town and all whom have taken sanctuary behind its
colossal gates. The Redmadafa, the river that gives life
and healing, will soon run red with the blood of all who
remain in this town.
Let me share with you the story of, ‘The Serpent and The Seed.’
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The Serpent and The Seed
One day the serpent strolled along,
Safe and secure, his home—O so strong:
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a man and a woman, filled with cheer.
O how his heart longed for love,
Not song, nor dance; not even a dove.
‘You’ll surely not die,’ he said with tease,
Lighting the way, dawning a new Eve.
Before them lie the forbidden fruit,
As he played a dirge from his deceitful flute,
With eyes wide open and nakedness revealed,
They bruised his head, he struck their heels.
Thorns and Thistles, and pain to her young,
“What have you done?” to his bel y he was flung.
Alone, he now sits, on his throne above the sea,
Plotting to destroy the woman and her seed.
On the day I was birthed, I was anointed a guardian
cherub, for so I was ordained. Come, come away with
me my children. I will guard you from the serpent; no
need to be bloodstained. And as for my name, from this
day on, The Augur, is no longer to be proclaimed; gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, My Name is Lucifer!”
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“Horn Swoggler! The Horn Swoggler! It’s a trap, he’s the
ser…” Lucifer opened his wings, knocking Onuka back across the
altar muffling his desperate attempt to expose his evil identity.
The crowd shouted and chanted his name. The temple shook
violently trying to rip him apart as several temple elders came
down and bowed at his feet. Rinox and Adromus slipped through
the crowd. They ran around the back and through the great hall
meeting Onuka in the inner chamber that contained the ancient
scrol s.
Onuka sat in a chair with his face in his hands.
“Onuka are you alright? What are we going to do?” asked
Adromus.
“I have failed you,” sighed Onuka. “I let him waltz right in
here and desecrate this holy temple and deceive the people with
his lies and poison-drenched tongue. I am no longer worthy to
serve you or this temple.”
Adromus walked over and placed his arm on his shoulder.
“Onuka, I’ve never been more proud to have you as my High
Priest than I am right now. We were all captivated by his beauty and lies. You defended the faith and together, we will restore the honor of this temple. The Augur will hear of this. With justice he will restore this temple. He will return. He will return.”
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C H A P T E R 9
Dead Man’s Drop
All who hate me love death.
Urium’s large apocalyptic body emerged from the breath. The
fog haggardly elevated revealing Caboose’s lifeless body
lying on the ground. Urium walked over and pressed his fingers
firmly against the puncture holes in his juggler—nothing; not a
beat or a pulse. He looked up and searched out a safe place to
move the body. Up ahead, between the remnants of what was left
from an old growth forest, he noticed a dirt trail that led down to a creek flowing with glimmering hot lava.
He picked Caboose up in his arms and walked across the
rocky uneven path and laid him down by creek’s edge. Urium
reached into his armor and pulled out a red ivory bottle with
rococo carvings. He popped the cork, took out four dragon
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scales, dipped them in the lava—which had no effect on him—
and providently placed them over Cabooses juggler holes.
The scales instantly came to life, attaching to his cadaverous
neck, sealing up the wounds. Long red blood fibers grappled
nimbly through his veins. They splintered out across his chest
and funneled into the aorta, cascading into the subterranean
chambers of his jel y clotted heart until final y reaching its apex, shocking it back to life.
Caboose lay motionless, breathless on the ground.
“Caboose, can you hear me?” said Urium, after waiting sev-
eral seconds.
Slowly coming too, Caboose opened his eyes. Discombobulated
he said, “Where am I? What happened?”
“Take it easy big guy, you gave me quite the scare. Are you
alright? See if you can stand.”
Caboose stood up and checked his body.
“Ouch,” he murmured, grabbing his back leg. “The howler,
where did he go?”
“Oh, I think you sent him running scared. Let me see that.”
Urium grabbed his leg and twisted it slightly. “Oh no,” he said, with concern in his voice. “It looks like I’ll have to take your leg.”
“What, I can’t lose a leg,” responded Caboose, grabbing his
leg. He sullenly pulled it away from Urium inspecting it closely.
“Ha, ha, ‘gotcha,’” laughed Urium. “It doesn’t look too deep.
Can you walk?”
Caboose walked around and jumped up and down, “Yeah, it’s
ok. Sorry Urium. I used the dragon’s claws but nothing happened.”
“They can only be used to help others, remember. Besides,
Seven said it takes all the elements to bring them to life.”
“Oh yeah, I remember now. But that doesn’t seem right. Why
can’t I use them to help myself?”
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“Sometimes the greatest lessons in life come when you put
others first. There is no greater love than to lay down your life for your friends.”
“Wow, someone needs to write that down, that’s good.”
Urium laughed, patted him on the back and put his arm
around him.
“Caboose, I can’t wait to see what he has planned for you.
Here drink this.” He handed Caboose a small white skin of drag-
on’s blood.
Caboose opened the top and sniffed it. “It smel s good. What
is it?”
“It will help you regain your strength.”
Caboose sniffed it again and then put it to his lips.
“Umm…this tastes good. It tastes like…like, summer in
a cup.”
“Glad you liked it.”
Caboose danced around shadow boxing the air. A fond smile
rekindled across his face. “I feel good. I feel like…a mighty warrior on the front line about to engage his enemies.”
“Wel … mighty warrior, we better get going or you may find yourself there sooner than not.”
Caboose didn’t hear a word. He floated on air a few feet
behind Urium, his body tingling with euphoric sensations.
They continued to follow the creek for several days final y coming
to Dead Man’s Drop. Caboose approached the entrance cautiously; he had second thoughts about going this way. Skeletons
impaled posts lining the trail all the way up to the entrance of a narrow passage cut between the rocks. Large thick overhangs
slumped over the horizon and faded into a dimly-lit carroty
sky—the overhangs looked like large rib cages protruding into
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the air. The sweet aroma of tang filled the air triggering Caboose’s nose. He noticed patches of sticky grass on the ground and
attached to the sides of the wal s. He scanned the area and looked behind him.
“Urium, that’s sticky grass” he whispered. His head rubber-
necked in all directions. “Crawlers must be close. Don’t you think I should have a special y-designed sword that shoots out lightning bolts, knives, rocks, or something? I could slice through
those who tried to harm me like,” he searched his thoughts for
the right analogy and then continued, “Like curd cooling on a
window sill on a hot summer day?”
Urium shook his head in agreement; he had been waiting for
that question.
“That would seem to solve a lot of problems and believe me,
a lot of people use the sword to try and solve…” Urium tilted his head and searched for the right word… “Oh, their difficulties.
But there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?” said Caboose, he picked up a stick from the
ground and started waving it in the air, skipping forward.
“All who live by the sword die by the sword.”
Caboose stopped his air jousting conquest. “But you have one?”
“That’s different. I’m not of this world.”
“Oh.”
Caboose dropped his head and the stick in disappointment.
He would feel a lot safer with the feel of cold iron in his hands, especial y in this place.
“Let’s stop here and spend the night. We’ll need to be on full
alert once we enter the passage,” said Urium.
Urium led them up a tall rock formation to a safe cutout
overlooking the entrance located about a quarter mile up the
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path. They quietly ascended the teetered rocks and bedded down
in the small cave.
Caboose looked in, easily seeing the back of the cave. He sat
down and looked out over the landscape. He saw the entrance to
Dead Man’s Drop in the distance. It curved high into the air from both sides and barbed at the end like a hook waiting to catch prey.