Title: Valley of the Shadow
Author: T. H. Gerety
ISBN: 978-1-62420-252-0
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 3
Avid naturalist, hunter and birder, Mr.
Gerety has constructed a tale of two people who meet briefly then are reunited
after death in a place and time other than the one they have always known. In
this unfamiliar and pristine environment, his characters find each other,
leaving behind their years of professional education and training as well as a
lifetime of modern urban assumptions to assume lives of hunters, nomads, lovers
and parents in a world emptied of all other people.
EXCERPT
The light grew dimmer and
drifted away. He concentrated, forcing the light to become stationary as he
moved toward it. Suddenly, he was face down on the hot sand. He could feel the
grit of it in his teeth His throat and mouth were dry, and his back felt as if
it was on fire.
He rolled onto his left
side, trying to see his back. All he could see was his right shoulder, and the
part that was visible was badly burned. He looked up at the sun and it appeared
to be larger and brighter, the heat intense. His shirt was scorched across the
top of his shoulder and was missing from his back. Unconsciously, he licked his
lips. His tongue swollen and dry rasped across his lips and gave him no relief.
Working onto his knees, he looked around. He was kneeling on top of a sand
hill. The sun was slightly behind him, appearing to have passed its zenith. He
decided the direction he was facing was east. Looking in that direction, there
was nothing but rolling sand hills. North and south, more of the same. He
struggled to his feet and looked west. This was slightly better. The dessert
continued but in the distance, gradually changing with broken ridges and on the
horizon a rugged mountain range. The ridges appeared to have some vegetation.
Standing in the desert
sand lonely and confused he could see very little to feel good about. There was
no sign to show how he had come to be there. He had landed in this deserted
spot with nothing but the clothes he was wearing and some of his hunting gear. His
shirt was burned backless, long pants, boots, a belt knife and an old timer's
pocketknife. His binoculars were still hanging around his neck. His bow, a
quiver with ten arrows and a canteen had been thrown by the explosion and lay
undamaged below in a shallow depression. He was hoping for a full canteen. In
one pocket he also found a small plastic bottle filled with matches. Slipping
and sliding he moved into the hollow. He picked up the canteen first and
discovered that it was slightly over half full. He tipped it up and took a
mouthful, swished it around in his mouth and swallowed. It was difficult to
resist draining it dry. Gathering the rest of his equipment, he climbed out of
the hollow, took one more look around, decided he hadn't missed anything and
began his walk toward the mountains.
He estimated the distance
to the ridges to be about twelve miles. Normal walking, he could easily manage
one mile in twenty minutes. He discovered that this would not be the case. The
sand was loose and his feet sank into it, restricting his stride and increasing
the effort. Looking at the position of the sun, he realized that he would be
lucky to make it to those ridges before sunset. He wasn't too lucid, and he was
afraid that he might lose his bow or his quiver of ten arrows so he attached
them to his belt, along with his canteen. The quiver had a pocket that
contained extra arrowheads and blades. He kept his binoculars around his neck.
When he stopped, he
guessed he had traveled four, maybe five miles, but the distance to the ridges
seemed the same. The sun had passed the apex and was now ahead of him slightly
above the mountains. He had put his shirt on backwards, hoping to protect his
back from the sun. He had also left the sleeves rolled down, cuffs unbuttoned
and shirttail loose. The terrain was essentially the same, but the sand was
packed and easier to walk on. There was, however, nothing that provided shade.
Later he realized that he
could see something in the distance; a tall slender silhouette that appeared to
be of a dark green color. It was in the direction he was moving, so he
concentrated on moving toward it. When he finally arrived, it appeared to be
some form of cactus. It was better than six feet tall, spineless with two arms
extending out and up, the arms approximately four to five inches in diameter.
He recalled that cactus had the ability to store water and decided it would
definitely be worth his time to test this theory. Circumscribing the lower limb
with his belt knife, he managed to break it off. He laid his shirt on the
ground and scraped the inside pulp from the cactus arm onto his shirt. At the
bottom of the arm, some liquid had collected. Raising the gourd up, he drank
it. The taste was bitter and it had a numbing effect in his mouth. He squeezed
the pulp, caught the liquid in the gourd and spread the residue on his shirt
and pressed it down tightly. When he put the shirt back on, there was stinging
sensation then his back felt cooler and slightly numb. He cut a hole in the
gourd near the rim and noticed more liquid at the bottom, and he spread this
onto his face and hands. After securing the gourd to his belt with his
handkerchief and checking his other gear, he resumed his walk toward the
ridges, feeling a sense of urgency and hoping to find some shelter before dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment