Part One - Into The Fire E-Book

Joseph P Hradisky Jr

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

A hundred years have passed since the first demon invasion and life in the earth realm is getting back to normal. John Tom Ramirez, name sake of the first hero of the earth realm Jonathan Tanner Thomas aka Jon Tom, is trying to rid all the left over dark creatures. All he wants is to be left alone to find the love of his life. But the life lines have a different path as they bring together several powerful allies to start the second demon invasion. He does not want to be a hero but he will not let his home be destroyed again.

Leseprobe

Joseph P Hradisky Jr

Part One - Into The Fire

I Am No Hero Series

This is dedicated to my wonderful wife, Terri, for all her support.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG80331 Munich

Part One – Into The Fire

Part One – Into The Fire

I Am No Hero Series

By Joseph P Hradisky Jr

This book is dedicated to my family and to all those who cannot keep from doing what is right no matter what the circumstances are.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This is the property of Joseph P Hradisky Jr – all rights are reserved

Look for Part Three – The Journey now available on Amazon and stay tuned for Part Four – Demons and Angels, Part Five – The Hidden Truths, and finally Part Six – The Final Confrontation

Here are my other books

The Mage - Ithaca Saga Book 1

The Fighter - Ithaca Saga Book2

Dragons of South Hill Parts 1 and 2

Related Books

Demon in the Mist Books 1 - 4

Gentle Giant of the Glen

A Collection of Short Stories 1 and 2

And the Blood Runs Through It

James Clover Series

Faded

Assignment

Wired for Peace Series

Joshua Abrams

Hanibal the Canibal

Betty Bombshell

Other Books

Bitterness

The Killing Fields

Secession of Cali

195

Seriously?

The feel of the cold water of Salmon Creek flowing over my body, after several days of travel to get home, could not be well described. Nor would I waste the time to do so. It was something you either got or you didn’t. There was no in-between. Especially after having been away for so long. As I lay on the rocky bottom, fully submerged, I looked through the flowing water into the clear blue sky above. You might think it would be tranquilly quiet, beneath the creek’s surface, but you would be wrong. There are sounds you can only hear if you listen carefully. First you have the sound of the moving water. Whispering, gurgling, moving. Almost like the wind blowing across the grass on a sunny day.

But there is more, so much more, which this sound cannot hide. The gurgle, of bubbles, rising to the surface. Air pockets rising from the depths of the earth finally making their way to break free. Sometimes it indicated an air breather which can stay underwater for a long period of time. The bubble not being air but the exhalation of waste carbon having become too much so it had to be released. Or the sound of a crayfish searching for food or clearing the entrance to its new house. The swish of a fish’s tail, maybe a minnow by the smallness of it, searching for food too. Then there were the rocks sliding in the strong current or smashing to a stop against another obstacle on its way to the lake. The bed, of a stream, ever changing by the powerful erosion of moving liquid. You could even hear the sound of a large animal, possibly a dear, crossing the creek a few hundred yards upstream from where I lay. Then there was the insane racket of my friend Peter MacDannille submerged in the water next to me. After traveling for so long this was just a temporary solution to the stench we had accumulated since the last bath a few days ago. Normally this would not be a problem but news had reached us there was a problem in our homeland for which we needed to get an assessment of. Our only other good luck, for the moment anyways, was we were both single. But, then again, it may not have been luck but the path of fate. Even being a seer of the life lines it was hard to tell what direction your path was heading in.

Sure we had our girlfriends, lovers, and when all else failed the ones you paid money to. You might call them prostitutes but I called them a small business owner. One has to live. And, if you have the resources – like a great personality, a willing body, or the desire to be self-employed – then a business by any other name is still a business. I not only support them but, on a few occasions, have made sure they were not taken advantage of. Or, if hurt; made sure the person who hurt them comes to the understanding of what will happen to them if they do it again. Being staked naked, to a tree in the middle of a village, was usually the best method to get the point across. This not only works but cuts down on the violence. Which brings me back to another problem I have. I am a very quiet, non-violent person until I no longer have the choice. I hate what I become at that point but know, when it happens, I have no other choice. Some have called this the berserker part of me. I give my dark side no name for there is no need. Mainly because all the other choices have been made useless. To some friends I have said it is like the saying turn the other cheek. I only have two cheeks. Pay back is a bitch after the second cheek. Sometimes I don’t even wait that long.

Finally, after Peter surfaced before I did so I won the wager, I came to the surface. Just enough to get my nose and mouth into breathable air. There are times I truly wish I had the gills of a fish as well as lungs. Life would be so much more fun. I grew up on Cayuga lake and spent most my childhood in the water for whatever reason you could think of to be in the water. My biggest reason was just to be in the water. It was pretty much that simple. There is absolute truth in the saying everything is better when wet. Everything. So I was enjoying floating in the water, eyes closed, and thinking about what pleasures I would give to the next woman I met when a lot of water hit me in the face.

Jumping up I looked at Peter who just pointed to his ears. Closing my eyes I let all the sounds filter through till I heard the one he was talking about. The distinct sound of metal on metal. Swords to be exact. Since the sound was so light they had to be a fair distance off. Slowly I turned until I got a bearing on where this noise was coming from. It was coming from a northeasterly direction. Since the sound was flowing down the valley, like the creek, there was a better than good chance it was coming from Ludlowville Falls in Ludlowville, New York. We were in between the Railroad Bridge, and what was left of the car bridge in Myers, New York. Or at least what was left of them. It had been a little over a hundred years since the war, of the first demon invasion, ended. The war had started, after the merge of the realms of science and magic, when human mages were lied into the idea this would be good for the human realm. It would allow them to take over all the realms. But, in truth, it was done so the demons could take control over all the realms and make everyone their slaves. Though a lot of people died the humans, as well as all those from other realms who stood against the demons, fought back and won. Since then a lot of things have changed. The Finger Lakes, especially Cayuga Lake, are almost back to what they were beforehand. It took a lot of work but so has everything else.

The main problem now was there was no central government, yet. Most of the world, even with life reasonably back to normal, has gone back in time to the age of small kingdoms. The United States is no longer united though there is a lot of effort to make it so. Here, again, the problem is trying to convince all the would be kings to give up their authority. So far this wasn’t happening due to the fact most of these places had a lot of military might to back them up. Here is where my biggest problem, and what got me into a lot of trouble, was – I really didn’t care who was in charge as long as they left me alone. In fact I had no clue to who the current king, of what used to be Lansing, New York; was. And, like I said, I really didn’t care.

“That has to be somewhere near the falls.” Peter had already left the creek to get dressed. He stood about an inch over six feet. Broad shoulders though the rest of his body was a little on the thick side. True there was a little fat here and there but it hid all the muscle. His sandy blond hair, turquoise eyes, and thick nose gave him the odd appearance of being soft. He was anything but.

“My guess.” I told him. Now me, on the other hand, was looking all like I was fat. Dark black hair, hazel eyes, nonexistent shoulders (though I have had people tell me my shoulders were pretty intimidating) and a pretty non-descriptive body otherwise. People tended to lose track of me for this very reason. And, for this very reason, I use it to my advantage.

Peter turned to me. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, John Tom, but do we need to find out what is happening?”

I smiled at Peter. He already knew the answer before he asked it. He also knew I wasn’t trying to live up to my name sake, or so most people thought, the great mage Jonathan Tanner Thomas or Jon Tom. There was no relationship here. My parents just loved the hero of the earth realm so they kinda named me after him. I didn’t have any complaints about this at all so I answered him anyway. “Yes.”

“Fine.” He said as I got out of the creek to get dressed.

One would think the fastest way to get to the falls would be by the old roads. I knew better. Following the creek upstream would be much faster. No matter what it looked like from the last flood there would be no great obstacle to hinder our path. Whereas the roads, or what was left of them, were a little more tricky. Not only was the terrain harder to navigate but it was not as bad as the bandits or other situations you could run into. Law, and order, were moving slower than a snail before the merge. So, no matter how strong you think you are, you always had to travel with the idea the shit could hit the fan quickly. We used to have a German Sheppard with us but it had gotten killed in an ambush a few months back. The twin ice demons never stood a chance after killing the dog.

As soon as I finished dressing we headed up stream. By any route it was about two miles to the falls. Somewhere between 30 to 45 minutes by foot. All depending on how fast you wanted to go. We didn’t go excessively fast for the simple reason all we could hear was the sound of swords clashing. No screams of wounded or dying. Believe me this would echo quickly down the Salmon Creek valley. Around 40 minutes later we were leaving the stream by the old Green road. By this time we were more than sure the fighting was at Ludlowville Park. I knew, and this was a safe bet, those defending would have their backs to the falls while the attackers were trying to get around them. Didn’t matter the reason for them wanting to. A big part having to do with slavery. Anyone caught in the wrong place had a great chance of ending up a slave. Nothing about the entity would decide this, just the fact you lived. In some cases that didn’t even matter. Over the last few years we have even set ghosts free who had been enslaved. Monsters. Several which had no names but were driven from some dark shadow. It didn’t matter for all were fair game. Especially if the slavers had the right equipment.

Carefully, but quickly, we moved down Green Road to Mill Street. I left Peter at the intersection of Mill Street and Maple Avenue. Since I was the faster, of us two, I ran down Maple Avenue to Ludlowville Road. Turning right I ran down to where it met an unnamed street. This I took knowing it would lead me back to Mill Street but it would be on the other side of Ludlowville Park. It would also give Peter a clear view of me when I made the street. Anyway that was the plan. Like all plans, well, I met an obstacle. Wolves. Since the end of the merge war this brand of entity was becoming more vicious with each passing year. I had the nagging notion this was a sign of something bad heading our way but, so far, there was no sign of it. I only knew, at some point, this would have to be dealt with. Too bad it was only a symptom and not the real problem, again.

First part, of the problem, was they had become intelligent like so many of the other life forms inhabiting the earth realm. They also grew a little in size. If they were to stand on two feet most would be the same average size as a human. Of course some were bigger or smaller. Which leads to the second part, maybe the worst part, of the problem. They had not become were creatures. Not a one. Just a clan of intelligent wolves. If you don’t see the problem then let me explain. A were creature, after the merge, became intelligent enough to know their limitations. They couldn’t just go around doing whatever they wanted without the repercussions being very bad. The wolves had no such reservations. They kept the pack mentality, the hunter mentality, and the idea they were better than all others mentality. Their intelligence made them so much more dangerous than ever before. Now I was looking at the outriders. Or perimeter guards if you want a better term for it. I was looking at a good half dozen. They seemed to be very happy they were looking at a human. I think they were unhappy they were not part of the other situation. Maybe more like pissed not to get the chance to kill a human.

My first thought, upon seeing them, was ‘an innocent life was being endangered’. Not ‘what the fuck am I going to do’ or some other lame thought another person might have. Seriously? Now I was more committed, to finding out what was going on, than ever before. A big reason, by the way they were acting, there were others – not wolves – involved here. Probably a few demons, or other dark creatures, which had not been caught yet. Fine. Time to get the party started. Now the trick, even against an intelligent creature, is shock value. The higher the value, the better off in completing what you are trying to do. Me, I just wanted info. Knowledge was still a very powerful weapon.

So, without drawing a sword or any other weapon, I ran straight for the biggest wolf among them. By the time they realized what I was doing this one was dead and the rest were in panic mode. Several more died before they could get organized or reinforcements could arrive. By this time, of the original six, only two were left. These tried the surrounding me technique while reinforcements made their way to join the party. The only problem here was I knew how this worked. Always have. Since I could walk my Pa taught me these skills. Unlike other kids I paid attention to what my father had to teach me. In all the generations of the human race this fell under the idea ‘knowledge is power’. It had always worked for me.

The amount of a damage a single person, in a fight, is unique. Very unique. Main reason being there is no one around he has to be worried about hurting or killing. No distractions. Just two goals. Kill the enemy and stay alive. That is all you have to think about. Not so the enemy. Here is where the intelligence development in the wolves proved bad for them. When it was just instinct, even though wolves were quite intelligent as it was, they didn’t worry about their own team getting in the way of a kill. Life sucked if you couldn’t keep yourself alive. Now there was that knowledge of trying to make sure you didn’t kill a team mate. As I was contemplating this thought they had finally managed to surround me. This also gave a clear indication the other battle, the one we were trying to find, was indeed at the edge of the falls. There would be no chance for the wolves to surround their prey there.

At this point I took a second to look down the road. Sure enough Peter was having the same issue. Another person might have worried about this but we both knew each other way too well. All was good. Slowly I turned, in a circle, to look at each of my opponents. Reinforcements brought the number up to a dozen. This would be fun, I thought. At least for me it would. While I was doing this they were trying to get an idea of what I would do. As soon as my back was to a wolf they would test my reaction with feints. To their error this gave me an idea of what they might do. So I began the attack.

This came about when I returned to my starting point. I looked at the wolf there and pointed at it with a huge smile on my face. Then I lunged. The wolf reacted by going backwards. It knew his opposite was going to attack. Possibly even two or three. After the third step I slammed to a stop, pivoted as I drew my blade, to slice the attacking wolf in half. I did say they were bigger but never said this made them harder to kill. In fact it made it easier since the middle part of the body was so much longer. With all this extra space there was less density to the body. Which resulted in the ability, of a very sharp blade, to cut all the way through without much trouble. My blade was about as sharp as they come.

No sooner had I dispatched this one but I was on the move again. A feint right resulted in an attack on the left. Two down. The third time I feinted I did so to my left. They were ready. Or so they thought. Like in football I paused, spun in a 360, to go back in the same direction I started. Neither wolf stood a chance. Now I could tell they were getting pissed. This was really good. An angry opponent usually doesn’t think as clear as one who is not angry. This is when I took the bow off my back. And, truth be told, I felt sorry at this point for they had no clue to what was coming next.

A slaughter.

I can pull, draw, and fire six arrows in less the six seconds. Especially at a bow range or any non-moving target. Right now the wolves fell into the later. Total shock had risen to a great percentage. Enough so that most of them were unmoving. In quick succession, and in every direction possible, six more wolves died. This left only three and for this I did not hesitate. With my bow, in my left hand as a sort of shield, and my sword in the right it didn’t take much longer before the rest were dead. Once this was achieved I went around doing a double tap. Here too is where I differ from most people. I have seen a couple old films where a person would kill the bad guy, never stop to check to make sure they are dead, and then end up getting killed because the bad guy wasn’t really dead. A double tap can be anything but the most successful one is something to the brain. In this case I went around to stab my sword into each of their heads. Through the eye sockets being the point of least resistance. After this I retrieved the arrows I shot, which were still good, to make my way again to Ludlowville Park. Peter met me there, at the path, leading to the park.