The Marenon Chronicles Collection
Title Page
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 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 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
The Marenon Chronicles Collection
The Deliverer
The Gatekeeper
The Reckoning
By Jason D. Morrow
Copyright © 2012 Jason D. Morrow
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition
ISBN: 13: 9781476124568
Book One:
The Deliverer
Chapter One
A bullet shattered the back window of the flatbed truck nearly sending Silas Ainsley to his death two days early. It also allowed his grandfather, Garland, the opening to aim his double-barrel shotgun at the driver on their tail.
With a pull of the trigger he hit the front end of the pursuing vehicle, shattering the left headlight into a thousand tiny pieces. Silas glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the passenger bring his arm out to spit another flurry of bullets toward them. He swerved just as Garland let off another round from the shotgun, shooting wide.
“Silas!” the old man spat.
“What? They’re shooting faster than you can load!” Silas said as he sped along the clouded dirt road. The blood-red sun was setting all too quickly. Another bullet split the rearview mirror and they both ducked low.
“We’ve only got two shells left and they aren’t letting up on the trigger,” Garland yelled.
Silas frantically scanned the edges of the highway, searching for an alternate route where they could lose their trackers. If the sun went down before he could find a spot, they wouldn't have a chance. Silas' attention snapped to the right when his grandfather pointed.
“Over there, you see that?” The road kept straight, but there was a small trail veering off to the right.
“Is it a path?” Silas asked.
“Yes, take it!” Garland said as he loaded his last two shells.
The dirt path seemed to go straight up the mountainside and Silas pressed the pedal to the floor. Trees obscured the direction the path took so he had no clue where it would lead them. For all Silas knew, they were headed off a cliff.
At seventeen, Silas had plenty of experience driving his grandfather's truck, but recent events placed him behind the wheel having to maneuver like a professional. The truck behind them carried two men as well, but it was much heavier. The pursuers could stay behind Silas and Garland all day on the flat terrain, but going up the steep mountain would slow them considerably.
“Just don’t let up on the gas,” Garland said, daring to peer over the back of his seat at their pursuers.
Silas glanced at the fuel gauge and winced.
“We can't make it far. Gas is leaking.”
Garland bit his lip. “Well, we'll just have to keep going until this thing shuts off. The more we drive, the more distance we put between us and them.” Garland's mouth curled into a devious grin as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a blue-jeweled medallion. “The more distance we put between us, the smaller the chance they have of ever seeing this thing.” He stroked the precious metal as the blue sapphire in its center sparkled in the fading sunlight.
“When are you planning on telling me what that thing is anyway?”
“It’s something that doesn't need to be in the hands of someone like Marcus or Theron.”
Silas shook his head. The old man had never told him what was so important about the medallion. In fact, Silas knew nothing about the medallion until the two pale-skinned men named Marcus and Theron appeared at their door in dark trench coats, demanding that Silas and Garland hand it over to them. They had threatened to use force if Garland and Silas didn’t cooperate. Silas, of course, had no idea what they were talking about. He left them standing on the porch of their home, and when Silas went to get Garland, he found his grandfather with two swords and a shotgun. From there it was a mad dash to the truck and a hot pursuit by Marcus and Theron. At some point they lost their pursuers, but continued heading west to a place that Garland said he had prepared for such a day. For three days they traveled with little rest and few answers to Silas’ questions.
It had been only a couple of hours since Marcus and Theron had somehow found them again and Silas had not let up on the gas since. Garland asserted that they were near his hiding place.
The truck began to quiver to a dull purr as it trudged up the side of the mountain. The path crawled around the mountain instead of over it. With the tank spilling the last bit of precious fuel, he knew it would only be moments before he would have to pull the brake and leave the truck behind.
Marcus and Theron slowly faded out of sight with their heavy vehicle, but Silas stayed wary. The cliff’s edge was too close to the slogging wheels.
The gas in the tank lasted longer than he anticipated, but afte
r several miles of driving uphill in the wide circle it finally, and calmly, coughed to an expected end. Silas pulled the brake and the two of them bolted out.
Garland held out a hand to shush Silas before he could say a word. He tilted his head as he listened for the other truck, but no sound could be heard. When he was satisfied, he slung the shotgun strap over his shoulder, secured the two swords under his armpit and pushed past Silas. He then opened the driver's side door and unlatched the brake.
“What are you doing?” Silas asked, bewildered.
The truck began to roll down the mountain and both of them watched as it slid off the cliff, barely making a noise until its metal crumbled against the rock on the path further down. Garland scanned the terrain in front of them and wiped the sweat from the end of his nose. “We’re near the top. Let's head for the middle ground into the woods. They'll be hard pressed to find us in there.”
“We're going to get lost, Gramps.”
“Don't call me Gramps, you know I hate it.”
Silas was about to come back with something, but froze as they heard the faint growling of a diesel engine tearing up the mountainside. Like a waking giant, the sound gradually became louder.
Garland tapped Silas for his attention and handed him a sword.
“You realize they’re carrying automatic weapons,” Silas said.
“And we only have two shells left,” Garland came back. “It might be all we can use against them. Come on.”
Silas fastened the strap of the sheath around his chest so the sword hung comfortably on his back and Garland did the same. Silas followed him into the woods having no idea where they were going. He was often surprised by his grandfather's active behavior. His drive to maintain possession of this mysterious medallion was uncanny, and that feeling was multiplied considering Silas had never even seen the item before.
The air was thinner and harder to breathe as they ran though the rough, wooded terrain. It was almost dark now, but Silas figured that could be used to their advantage.
Hopefully, Silas thought. Within a few minutes, they reached a rocky summit, a mesa from which they could see for miles, including the road below them. The truck rumbled into sight and drove steadily around the mountain closer to their position.
They lay on their bellies and crawled behind a series of bushes near the edge of the stone overlook. Their breaths were shallow for several long seconds, and then Garland finally broke the silence.
“Do you see that cave over there?” He pointed to Silas' left.
He traced his grandfather’s gaze and almost said 'no' but finally caught a glimpse of the gaping hole in the side of the rock.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“That’s the hideout.”
“Then why aren’t we there?”
“We don’t have time,” Garland said. “Theron and Marcus are close. We needed to be in that cave twenty minutes ago. Running through the woods will make too much noise and they’ll surely find us before we can reach it.”
“Why wouldn't they keep looking for the truck?” Silas asked.
“If they didn't see that truck falling out of the sky, then they are less observant than I give them credit for.”
“So, what's the plan?” Silas wiped away an anxious sweat, as the rumbling of Marcus and Theron’s truck got closer. His grandfather's eyes were fixed on the cave’s entrance, unwavering.
“We take the fight to them,” Garland said. He turned to Silas and gave him a wry smile. “The hunters become the prey.”
Other mountains, with their shades of violet and orange in the setting sun, surrounded the peak where they sat. Silas knew they were somewhere in Colorado, but that was all. Although they were on the run for their lives, Garland didn’t miss the chance to say it was a good opportunity in Silas’ training. Even for an old man, Garland was unrelenting in his endeavors to instruct Silas. Confronting Marcus or Theron, the ‘prey’, and destroying one of them was his final test after years of guidance. He had trained long and hard with Garland and had become an expert swordsman and fighter. He could track beasts with the best of them and his marksmanship was unmatched, but Silas had never killed a man.
Their quarry was eccentric to say the least. When Theron and Marcus came to their doorstep, Silas could tell they were trouble from the beginning, but he had no idea who they really were until Garland finally told him.
“They are Sleepers, men completely possessed by the Stühocs,” he had said.
As far as Silas could tell after listening to Garland’s explanation, “Stühocs” were a fabled group of creatures from another world, bent on finding one certain medallion.
Of course, Silas had never seen one of these individuals and had questioned the old man’s sanity on more than one occasion. Garland told him that the possessed were uncommon and not often seen, but their coming to him meant that it was time to finish Silas’ training.
The idea of the possessed was intriguing to Silas. All the Stühocs could do was implant ideas and wishes into the mind, making the possessed believe they wanted something so badly even if they cared nothing for it. When Silas asked where these Stühocs resided he only got a mumbled answer and a wave of the hand. This only added reason to doubt the creature’s existence, but with to men trying to kill them, there wasn’t a lot of time for a better explanation.
The question then came, why did they want this medallion?
“Why haven't you told me what is so special about it?”
Garland grimaced. “Not right now, Silas.”
“Why not now? You dragged me all the way out here because some possessed freaks are trying to get it. We've both nearly been killed multiple times! Please tell me there is something in that cave that will help us.”
Garland did not move. His eyes were fixed straight ahead as if choosing his words carefully in his mind. “It's … it's very powerful, Silas.”
Silas rolled his eyes. “Does it keep the monsters away, Gramps?”
“Unfortunately it doesn’t,” Garland said.
Silas had expected a snide remark, but sensed a gravity in his grandfather's tone. The conversation ended abruptly when they saw the truck come around the nearest bend. The shell-ridden machine finally rolled to a stop and for a moment there was complete silence. Not even the bugs made noise. Then, both doors opened immediately and the two men stepped out of the truck. They wore the same black trench coats as they had when they arrived at Silas’ home a few days before. Both of them held a machine gun in the right hand. Theron, the taller of the two, had been driving. He threw the butt of his half-finished cigarette to the ground and said something to the red headed Marcus. Marcus nodded.
“What are they doing?” Silas whispered.
“They know we can't be too far and they know we weren’t in the truck. The tracks we left stopped there.”
Silas watched intently as Marcus and Theron walked slowly into the wooded area. Marcus lifted his head and sniffed as if he would be able to catch their scent.
Silas eagerly anticipated the darkness as he looked to the sun in the distance, its last rays melting behind the hills.
Marcus and Theron had their guns ready to fire at anything that moved as they walked through the thick brush and small trees. Eventually the two of them crossed directly under Silas and Garland and were close enough for Silas to smell the stench of cigarette smoke. He looked at his grandfather and caught a quick wink. How Garland planned to get to the cave was a mystery.
Silas didn’t know whether or not to believe his grandfather when he said the Stühocs had possessed these men. He wasn’t even sure he believed there were such creatures as Stühocs. But possessed or not, they were there to hunt and kill.
The night fell upon them and Silas silently swore when he noticed Marcus and Theron had found the cave.
“Do they know what’s in there?” Silas asked.
Garland said nothing for nearly a minute then answered. “I believe they may have known about it all along. I was just hoping
that we could get there first.”
“What’s in it that we need so badly?”
Garland looked at his grandson, the moonlight giving him just enough illumination to see his face clearly. “I can’t tell you right now,” he said. “I swear to you when this is over, I will tell you everything.”
He didn’t want to, but Silas accepted his grandfather’s avoidance. There would be no point in arguing with him now.
After it was completely dark, Garland made them wait two more hours. Silas' body felt stiff and sore from lying on the rock surface for so long and his eyes felt as though weights dangled from each lid. His breathing became deeper just before Garland spoke, ripping him from a brief moment of comfort.
“They haven’t moved,” he said. “They’re waiting for us.”
“Then why don’t we leave?” Silas whispered. “Let’s steal their truck and go down the mountain.”
Garland shook his head. “No. We must fight them. They know that I need to get into the cave.” He pulled the shotgun to his side and set it next to Silas. “You take this. I’ll confront them first. I know how the possessed think. When they see that I have a sword they will want to fight me with their own. A gun is weak in their eyes.”
“How do you know they carry blades?”
“They always carry blades,” Garland said. “Once their rifles are down, I want you to try and fire at them.” He pointed hard at Silas. “Don’t shoot me by accident!”
“It’s a shotgun, Gramps, you better stay low.”
The situation felt too dangerous. Not only were they about to go in for the kill, they were setting themselves up for being killed as well. It was an impossible situation, but Silas had to follow his grandfather.
Climbing down the steep rock in the middle of the night was no easy task. Garland reached the ground first and did his best to steady Silas on his descent. He decided they would flank the cave from the left to avoid any noise made by walking through the dead leaves of the wooded ground. At the slow pace it took several minutes to find the dirt pathway that led to the side of the cave. The two of them hunkered low, being mindful of their steps as not to alert Marcus or Theron. Surprise was key. After several minutes of moving slowly they finally reached their destination just yards from the cave opening and both of them knelt behind a bush. Silas wiped his wet, shaggy blonde hair to the side and gripped the shotgun. The sword weighed heavy on his back.
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 1