The Blood Jewel (The Shomara Diaries Book 1)

by Carol M. Henderson

  Wait a minute. Where are all the houses? What happened to the neighbors? Where’s the rest of the city?

  I looked down at the pool. Maybe there was something down behind those trees by the water.

  I looked back toward my grandfather’s fence but thick shrubbery hid it. For some reason, I felt a prickly sensation along the back of my neck. Why can’t I see any of the town? If I wander too far will I be able to find my way back? I shrugged. Surely I could use this waterfall and the pool here as landmarks.

  As I surveyed the hill, I saw a small path that twisted along the grassy slope. It ended at the water’s edge below. Tucked under the branches of the trees overhanging the water I could even make out a secluded little beach.

  I noted another weird detail. The air seemed milder on this side of the gate. I mean, for a November day it felt more like early summer—not too hot, not too cold. I rubbed my head. My jacket is going to get way too warm.

  As I picked my way down the slope, the ground between the rocks was so mossy that it felt like sponge. Stepping on it was like walking on new carpet. A light breeze perfumed by hundreds of blossoms wafted up to me.

  All of a sudden, I laughed at the top of my lungs.

  “Oo-oo yeah!” I hollered. “What a great day to skip school!” No more marching from class to class like a mindless lemming. No teachers breathing down my neck. No silly multiple choice tests that twisted my brain into a pretzel.

  As I took a deep breath, my eyes again lit on the pool below. It was so clear I could almost see the bottom of it. Wow! Chad and I could have so much fun swimming in a place like this. Such great diving spots.

  About halfway down the hill, I heard a loud screech in the sky and turned to see what it was. A huge bird flew toward me. It had a long tail like the bird carved on the gate and I was mesmerized just watching it come closer and closer.

  Then, from out of nowhere, a sudden flash of light hit me full in the face. Disoriented, I lost my balance and stumbled backward. With no time to think, I twisted around and stretched my arms out to break my fall—but my hands never touched the grass.

  Instead, with a head-spinning swoosh, my jacket tightened around my chest and I felt myself yanked into thin air. Something screamed overhead and I heard the sound of flapping wings.

  Then I knew. I was in the clutches of the long-tailed bird! I had been snatched up like a field mouse. I tried to struggle, but my efforts were useless. The powerful bird had a solid grip on me. I could feel the sharp tips of its talons scraping my bare back every time I twitched. Its claws must have slashed right through my leather jacket in one slice. Whenever I tried to jerk around, they dug right into my skin. I had to force myself to go limp.

  Then I made another terrifying discovery. I couldn’t see. I was totally blind!

  The last thing I remembered was that flash of light. Now I could see nothing, no light, no shadows. The realization set me screaming at the top of my lungs.

  “Somebody help me, please! Somebody help!”

  CHAPTER 21: THE NEST

  “If humans could smell the air when they dabble in wickedness, they would flee the stench.”

  ~Martin Moonglow I felt my body go hot and cold. What was happening to me? How could I have been struck blind? What kind of creature was this that snatched me? Where was it taking me? Was I going to die?

  Since I could no longer see, all my other senses went on full alert. All of a sudden I was aware that my fingers were losing their feeling in the cold air. My body felt like a giant goose pimple. We must be climbing into the upper atmosphere because the temperature is dropping. The bird’s claws against my back were feeling more and more like shards of ice. Then the wind picked up and freezing needles of arctic air seeped into every tiny crevice of my jacket.

  Gasp ! I can’t breathe!

  Not only was the air getting colder, but it was getting thinner. My ears strained for any new sound but all I could hear was the flapping of huge wings above me. The frigid temperatures set my teeth to chattering. Then I remembered I had a keeper.

  “Mar . . .!” I tried calling to him, but my voice stuck in my throat.

  Some keeper you turned out to be, Martin baby. Isn’t it your job to protect me from stuff like this? Where are you when I need you? What a cruddy time to do a disappearing act.

  Then I began to worry. Just where was this giant pterodactyl taking me? Does it have a nest or will it just drop me into some rocky chasm and leave me to die?

  Okay. The nest thing bothered me. Would there be supersized chicks in it? Maybe they’re waiting to tear pieces of flesh off my body. I’ll be eaten alive. I’m going to be bird lunch!

  As the air grew even colder and thinner, I began to drift in and out of consciousness. I fought to stay awake but I must have gone completely under because I woke with a start. The bird had let go of me.

  I’m falling! “No-oo!”

  Then what seemed like an hour later, I landed—kwump!—on somethingthat squeaked like my grandfather’s rattan rocking chair. I grunted on impact, my mouth wide open. That was a mistake because I ended up with a whole face full of . . . of fluff.

  “Yech!” I began to spit and spit some more. Feathers? Yeah. I guess birds really do line their nests with feathers plucked off their own bodies. I had“spitting” proof.

  “Br -rr!” I stuttered through clicking teeth. “Even Gramps’ back yard wasn’t this cold.” Pungent odors surrounded me. They reminded me of the chicken coop our neighbors had years ago, a mixture of bird droppings, feathers, and dried grass. I shoved my nose into my jacket. The smell of my mom’s laundry detergent brought a lump to my throat. Would I ever see my family again? Tears spilled down my cheeks. I had never felt so alone.

  But wait. What about the chicks? I knew they could be within easy pecking distance. I lay stock-still listening. Even the slightest movement made the nest creak and groan like it was alive. I laid still not even wiggling a toe. The only thing I heard was silence.

  Okay. One more test. With a quick sweep of my arms and legs I spread my body out in every direction. Then I went dead still again and held my breath. Nothing.

  Whew! I was the only one in the nest. This could be good and it could be bad. Good in that I will not be the next meal for a bunch of oversized baby birds. Bad because I was still alone, hungry

  – and blind.

  Just how do blind people figure out their surroundings? I needed to know where I was. At first, all I heard were leaves rustling in shrubbery nearby. After a minute I heard a screech reverberate off rocky walls in the distance. Uh-oh. The bird was still out there. That’s bad. But then I heard the eerie howl of a wolf. Hm. That’s really bad. I shivered and curled my knees up to my chest.

  There was no getting around the obvious. Wherever this place was, it was freezing cold, it was full of scary noises, and the sticks under me were not designed for human comfort. My blindness also ensured that I would stay stuck in this place.

  I had never imagined what it would be like not having use of my eyes. In fact, I was not sure I had ever even met a blind person. Now I was one. All I had to depend on was my sense of smell, touch, and my hearing. I stretched out my arms to explore my surroundings. Everywhere I turned all I could feel was feathers.

  “Feathers. Nothing but feathers,” I muttered. I spit out a quill. You’d have thought that a hundred pillows had burst. But things could have been worse. I could be fighting the giant bird, but so far, Big Bird hadn’t come back for me. I hoped it would stay gone. I needed time to think.

  But without warning, all the events of the last week welled up inside me and I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  “Aw-ww!!”

  Even if I got out of this alive, I’d never be able to do anything again. I buried my head in a pile of feathers and let the tears take over. I’d never be able to walk by myself again. I’d never ride my bike, or go swimming again. And my so-called spirit sight? What a crock. My keeper had evaporated. I was a dud anyway. Useless for the “Majes
ty’s” big plans, if indeed there were any plans.

  I sat up and began talking to myself out loud. The sound of my own voice was somehow a comfort, maybe because it was the last link to the only world I knew.

  “So where am I?” I muttered. “I’m in a bird’s nest. But what’s on the outside of it? If I crawl out of this nest, will I fall over a cliff?” The nest had to be high up on a mountain. The air was so cold.

  I began scrambling about the nest on all fours to feel how big it was. By the time I had crawled my way all around it, my face and hands were scraped raw by sharp twigs woven into the nest.

  Ei-eech! Blind people must be covered with scratches and bruises all the time.

  Then I heard the flap of wings. Something settled in front of me and the nest rocked like a ship on high seas. I could feel the warmth of a live body close by and I noticed that it was big enough to block the cold wind.

  So, the bird is back. Death on two wings. What will it feel like to be picked apart by a bird of prey? Guess I’ll find out in a few seconds. No use fighting it.

  I sucked in a lung full of air and held it. Then I hunkered down and braced myself for the end. Nothing happened. Nothing, that is, until I felt the bird’s wing hit the top of my head. Ow! This was it. That sharp beak was gonna rip into me anytime now. But no. The giant bird seemed to be settling into the nest. As it folded its wings I was caught beneath one of them. Rather than crawl away from it, I tucked myself into a tight ball and rolled toward the heat of its body. I didn’t even care if it was only for the final few minutes of my life. At least I’d be warm.

  When the great wing finished folding, I found myself trapped under it. At first the bird seemed restless and shifted its weight several times but soon it stopped. I waited, not daring to stir. Then the bird went quiet.

  Yo. I don’t get it. Isn’t Godzilla the Peacock hungry? Why is it going to sleep? Must be that it ate before it came back to the nest.

  I nearly choked on the air under that wing. Phew! You need a bath, Big Bird.

  All of a sudden a chilly blast of wind found me and I flinched. Br-r-r! I need more feathers. Taking great care not to wake the bird, I reached out and scooped in several armfuls of soft down to cover my feet and legs. Then, bit by bit, I worked myself around until I was right next to the bird’s body. My feet and hands soon began to get some circulation in them.

  That didn’t mean that my sore arm stopped hurting. In fact, the pain was brutal at times. Mentally, I shut it down hard and forced myself to concentrate on something else. My stomach reminded me that I had stomped out of the house that morning with very little breakfast. What I wouldn’t give for a ham sandwich right now. I could have kicked myself for being so bullheaded. Now, I was cold, blind, nursing an infected arm, and hungry to boot. I knew I would never sleep. That was my last thought before I lost consciousness. ____________________

  I woke to discover I was enveloped in feathers from head to toe. The bird was gone. I was surprised at how warm my feather bed was. I was even more surprised that I was still alive. Is it day or night? How do blind people judge the passing of time? And how long have I been sleeping?

  Add to that, I was now really hungry. Was this the beginning of starvation? I wondered what my mother was fixing for breakfast right now. Hold on. Maybe it was evening time now. That would mean that Mom was cooking dinner. Maybe she was baking her famous pork chops at this very moment! My mouth watered. How I would love to be sitting down for a family dinner with a pork chop and applesauce on my plate looking across the table at my mom and sister.

  Funny how what seemed so trivial to me before now took on great importance. I pictured Jenny diving into her mashed potatoes and talking a blue streak to whomever would listen. In spite of myself, I snorted. Did she know that her pigtails flopped around when she talked? I missed the little family routines I would never see again—my mother putting laundry into the washer, my sister talking on the phone with a friend, my mom pouring herself another cup of coffee while she stood at the stove. Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes. Everyone I loved had been ripped away from me! First Dad, now Mom and Jenny.

  I sat up with a jerk. Did anyone know I was gone? Did Mom and Jenny know I was missing? And again, where was Martin? Why couldn’t a giant as powerful as Martin take out a simple bird? I shook my head. Not part of your job description, is that it, Martin?

  The realization hit me like a steel cabinet dropped from ten floors up. I had been deserted. I was on my own. A frosty finger of fear raced up my spine and my breathing turned ragged. I was doomed! I would never sleep in my own bed again or hug my mom. I would never tease my sister or talk with Chad even one more time. Once again, my stomach rumbled and I groaned. Never would I enjoy Mom’s roast beef dinner again.

  “Face it, Barry,” I sobbed out loud. “In your condition, what good are you really? Even if you do survive, you’re going to be blind from now on. You’ll have to depend on everyone around you for the simplest needs. No more lizard hunts with Chad on the mountain. No more quiet walks with Mom and Jenny picking up chestnuts in the fall. I’ll never see another sunset over the Ozarks.

  What had my life amounted to, anyway? So I was the only kid in school with an “A” average for six years in a row. Big deal! My whole life had been a waste.I dug my fists into my eyes. “Here I am, stuck in a bird’s nest up thousands of feet on a mountain. Even the FBI won’t think to look for me up here.”

  I howled into the blackness. “Barry Klutzinheimer here, about to become the main course for some huge eagle!” I burst into tears and slumped to the floor of the nest. “This is it. This is the end.”

  Soon, I was so hungry I was cramping. I couldn’t decide which hurt worse, my arm or my stomach. I had no clue how long I had been in the bird’s nest. I only knew that my stomach felt like it was scraping my back bone.

  “Awrgh-hh!” My voice bounced off canyon walls below.

  When my stomach growled again I was sure I heard that echo too.

  CHAPTER 22: RELIEF FROM AN ODD CORNER

  “In a situation that seems hopeless, help can arrive from a unexpected source.”

  ~Martin Moonglow Then, out of my blackness, the sound of beating wings, faint at first, grew louder and louder. I swallowed hard. The bird is back. I just sat there. Whatever this monster had planned for me, it was obvious that I had little choice in the matter. The nest lurched as the great beast landed on the edge. The twigs of the nest creaked under the extra weight.

  All of a sudden, a warm object landed in my lap. Criminy. Now what? I froze. If it was something alive, a mouse or a live rabbit, it would soon scurry off. But nothing moved.

  Then a wonderful aroma hit my nose. Bread! I put my hand down and felt a warm, round loaf. Oh, wow! It smelled better than Christmas dinner. I tore off a huge chunk and gulped it down.

  A thought niggled the outer edges of my brain. What if this is my last supper? I shrugged. If it was, so be it. The bread was still delicious. In fact, it was the best meal I had ever tasted.

  The nest wobbled and squeaked again and I heard the great wings catching the wind again. The bird was back in no time bringing something else that it tossed at my feet. This time it was a sponge filled with water. I sucked on the sponge and drained it dry. I hadn’t realized I was so parched. With my stomach full, and my thirst quenched, I settled back down in the feathers and slept again.

  This began a strange pattern. The giant bird brought me bread, water, and even a piece of cooked meat every now and then. Okay, that’s weird. I spent the rest of my time either sleeping, trying to keep from freezing, or pondering my fate. Once in a while, the bird would spend some time in the nest, tucking me in close under its wing to keep me warm. Never did it attempt to harm me. Double weird.

  So here’s the truth. At first, I was so focused on food, water, and staying warm that I didn’t even question the bird’s abnormal behavior. I know that’s hard to believe, but there it is.

  But hoo-boy! The moment I gave myself permissio
n to think about why the bird was acting so strange, questions crowded into my head like a swarm of yellow jackets at a cookout.

  Okay, since when does a bird of prey care two pin feathers about its victims? How does it know that I’m hungry, thirsty, or cold? For cryin’ out loud, we’re talking predator here, aren’t we? Don’t predators eat anything they get their claws into? I moaned and shook my head. Nothing made sense. In fact, I realized I was several ideas short of a clue.

  A new thought hit me. Maybe I was just part of some creepy experiment. Wait. Was I a guinea pig? Was somebody trying to figure out what a bird of prey is capable of doing? But why use me, a live kid, to test a bird’s ability to follow orders? That’s pretty sick. At that point, I felt like I was going crazy.

  I came to only one conclusion. “I can’t go on like this anymore,” I muttered. “I have to escape. I have to try to get off this mountain.”

  CHAPTER 23: ESCAPE PLANS

  “All living creatures must come to terms with the fact that they are not in control of their own destinies.” ~Martin Moonglow The prospect of being the bird’s next meal never left my mind. “I have to get away. Anything is better than being ripped to shreds by this monster. If there is a lunatic bird-trainer in the mix I am soouta here.”

  The more I thought about it, the more I managed to convince myself that the idea would work. If I stayedthere, I’d be eaten. No question. It was just a matter of time. If I tried to escape, I could slip and fall to my death. So be it. That was still better than life here. Better than going berserk.