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About
the Author
The
author was educated and grew up in the southern highlands of NSW.
From
toddler to adulthood he played soccer, cricket, tennis and snow-skiing. His
other interest is the guitar. His taste, briefly noted in my novel, is heavy
rock.
However,
it was his love of horror/sci-fi books and movies that eventuated with his
experimentation into writing his first novel ‘The
Time Guardian’.
He
didn’t need to look back, he could hear them. Brutal, sporadic barking.
Gnashing teeth. Paws thumping hard concrete, keeping rhythm with their rapid
panting. He could almost smell their hot breath. Wild, bestial, and savage.
They’re getting close. Real close.
He
raced around the corner of another abandoned building. Images of sharp claws and
jagged teeth flashed before his eyes. He tried to thrust those images aside,
clamping down on any thought of defeat, focusing only on his running.
Tall,
stony brick buildings blurred as he swept past them, his feet slapping the hard
pavement. Overflowing dumpsters and garbage cans lined the empty streets, the
narrow sidewalks and driveways. Every muscle cried out in protest as he spurred
his feet on. The denim jacket, recently stolen, flapped wildly about his chest
and arms, the perspiration soaking the thin cotton t-shirt he wore underneath.
He
raced past an abandoned theatre complex, then swerved to his left, around
another corner, his feet almost slipping on the damp, oily concrete. Easing his
pace, he found himself in a narrow alley.
“Shit!
Oh shit! A dead end!”
Barbed
wire curled across the top of a chain-linked fence, stretching from wall to
wall. Soiled newspaper, coke bottle-tops and plastic containers littered the
narrow alley way. Empty chip packets and candy wrappers were wedged under the
foot of the fence. A torn shirt and an old pair of scuff-marked boots had found
their way into the alley. Perhaps due to a mugging; or discarded by a homeless
beggar or vagrant.
A
stale, dank odour hung in the air, scratching at the back of his throat. Sweat
trickled into his deep blue eyes as he searched for an escape, a solution.
Fighting back a surge of panic, he realised what he had to do.
“You
can do it. You can do it … No pain.”
Two,
three, four long strides. Reaching deep into his energy reserves, he jumped,
latching onto the fence, the toes of his joggers kicking at the diamond-shaped
links in the wire.
Grunting,
he clawed at the fence, his hands reaching higher in his desperate scramble for
freedom.
His
fingers touched the top rung. Now comes the pain. He flinched, touching a
pointed barb, but didn’t hesitate too long. Pushing off with one leg, he
catapulted himself over, hearing the stretch and tear of cotton as the barbs
snagged his t-shirt, wincing as the sharpened tips raked across his lower belly.
He
panicked for a few seconds as the fence suddenly lurched and trembled, causing
him to lose grip, his feet slipping from their toe-holds. His body twisted,
swinging backward before slamming heavily against the fence. Frayed tips of
rusted wire bit into his back.
A
screeching noise caused him to cringe. Like claws raking over a tin roof. Or
nails scraping across a blackboard. Loud. Grating. Going on, and on.
The
rounded caps of the steel support poles gouged out half-inch grooves on either
side of the walls as the fence rocked again, cutting through brick work marred
with mildew and graffiti. Barely hanging on with one hand, he managed to get a
foot hold through one of the diamond-shaped links. Twisting his body around he
squeezed his other foot through another steel link, his arms aching from the
constant strain on his muscles. Desperate to catch a breather, he glanced down,
brushing aside the sweat-sodden hair that fell into his eyes.
The
big animal remained perfectly still, its massive paws firmly planted on the
ground. Then, slowly, it raised its rock-like head, hatred and malevolence
glowering within its fierce black orbs. A deep, blood-curdling growl escaped its
fearsome jaws.
Unable
to look away, he felt his stomach beginning to churn, as though he wanted to
spew. Fear clutched his belly like tentacles, seeing the message clearly written
within the beast’s murderous, hate-filled eyes.
‘You
are my breakfast little boy. I’m gonna rip you apart.’
The
sides of the dog’s jowls lifted, exposing its stained, but lethal teeth.
Thick, chunky trails of saliva hung from its rubbery gums, the eyes never
wavering as it snarled. Fine black hairs, like prickles, ran along its spine.
The short, stubby tail remaining rigid as the wiry muscles rippled back and
forth beneath its leathery skin.
Breaking
the spell, he managed to tear his eyes away from the loathsome animal as he
jumped to the ground on the opposite side. As his feet kissed the asphalt, he
tucked his arms into his sides, then rolled along the ground. Within the same
movement he came to his feet, poised, ready to flee once again.
Before
he took the first step, he glanced back. He saw a second dog, just as large, and
just as fearsome as the leader. Glancing even further back, his eyes widened in
amazement, then shock, as he realised what was happening.
A
third and fourth dog came bounding forward. The two larger beasts stood silent,
side by side at the base of the fence. The two smaller dogs increased their
pace; their movements sleek, almost graceful, front legs stretching out,
gathering speed, their paws barely touching the ground.
He
forced himself to turn away. The two smaller dogs would be over the fence in a
matter of seconds, using the two larger dogs as ‘canine’ springboards.
He
ran without caring about which direction would lead to safety, just running to
be free from the smell of death. Not gonna give up yet, man. No mongrel dog is
gonna chew on my little white ass.
But
he wasn’t fooling himself, he had to do something soon, the pain inside his
lungs and chest began to burn, eating away at his strength and energy. It
wouldn’t be long before fatigue overwhelmed him, signalling the end of the
chase.
As
he rounded the next corner, he faltered, a sudden glare blinding him. Thrusting
an arm up to shield his eyes, he squinted, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
The
morning sun had broken through the clouds, the brilliant yellow rays bouncing
off a watery surface. Unknowingly, his escape route had taken him from the
middle of town, through the seemingly endless streets of dilapidated buildings
and abandoned shops, to the murky green waters of the bay that surrounded the
foreshores of a semi-industrial area. Lining the numerous piers he could see
boat-sheds, workshops, and factories. Two run-down pubs were also slotted
amongst the factories and wharves, adding a real working man’s touch to the
macho, no-nonsense environment. But lying beyond, just out of sight, was the
deep blue ocean. A last ditch hope to shake his four-legged assassins.
“Okay.
Let’s get the hell outta here.”
As
he ran toward the bay, his eyes scoured the docks and open platforms, searching
for the quickest route to the water. But it wasn’t going to be that easy; he
needed transport.
He
could see several large trawlers and smaller fishing vessels anchored or tied to
the docks. A few personal watercraft vessels caught his attention; a sailing
dinghy and two outboard motor boats, one rusted, and partially submerged.
Veering to his left, he almost missed seeing a half-cabin cruiser, moored just
beyond the edge of a pier. Perfect. If the cruiser couldn’t be started, he
could swim out to the sailing dinghy.
A
trawler’s fog-horn suddenly boomed. It’s low, mournful blast signalling
other vessels that it was exiting the bay. He swerved in mid-stride, searching
for the trawler. Another idea formed inside his head, possibly even better than
stealing the cruiser or the dinghy. It was a wild idea, but it could possibly
save his ass from becoming dog meat.
He
was distracted by a sudden high-pitched yelp, followed by a pattering of paws,
and a rumbling snarl.
Once
again the beasts were hot on his trail, but this time he allowed himself a brief
smile. Bright red paw marks stained the concrete pavement, trailing all the way
back to the alley way. Deep gashes slashed the muzzles and forehead of the two
larger dogs. Their flanks were sliced open. The big beasts had broken through
the wire fence.
His
smile quickly vanished, for the beasts still ran, unhindered, oblivious to their
injuries, devoid of any pain.
“Roll
over and die, you bastards!”
Head
down, he grunted, running even faster, a destination in mind, and a glimmer of
hope driving him on.
The
dogs sensed a change in their prey. Having reached the beginning of the pier,
they too accelerated, their paws skimming the ground, their ears lying flat.
They no longer barked or growled, their teeth were bared, ready to puncture,
maim, and kill.
Weatherbeaten
boards creaked under his joggers as he ran, sweaty blond locks whipping about
his forehead as he came closer and closer to the edge of the platform. Closer
and closer to freedom.
A
small cluster of lights suddenly appeared, hovering, perhaps four or five metres
beyond the edge of the platform. Slowly at first, they began blinking, then
spiralling, swirling in a circular motion, gradually increasing in speed as they
drifted closer to the edge of the platform.
More
lights began to appear, the glow becoming even brighter, flickering, gyrating,
swathing the platform in a whirlpool of blinding colour and energy.
He
saw the lights, but still he ran, breathing deeply, and jumped.
The
glow was intense, so brilliantly white. Penetrating clothes, his skin, even his
bones.
Then,
as suddenly as the lights appeared, they began to dim, his body merely a shadow
in the faint light of the morning sun. A pale shadow, vanishing.
The
first attack dog launched itself just as the strange lights appeared, soaring
through the air like a missile. Blue denim flashed before its eyes, the jaws
locking, chomping down, the powerful teeth puncturing a slice of clothing as it
plunged into the frigid waters below.
The
startled animal scrambled for the surface, expecting to hear and see its prey
screaming and writhing within its vice-like grip. Instead, the beast’s only
trophy consisted of several spindly threads, lodged in the front teeth of its
mighty jaws.
Following
their leader, the other three dogs didn’t hesitate, bounding from the edge of
the pier. Seeing the bizarre display of lights, they tried to pull back, their
normally capable legs and jaws powerless to prevent the inevitable.
Still
floundering in the waters below, unable to comprehend where its
prey had gone, the first attack dog had forgotten his companions.
Thud!
Splash!
Dropping
heavily, the weight of the second attack dog couldn’t prevent dunking the
leader, driving the huge beast below the surface. The third and fourth dogs
followed, meeting a similar fate as they dropped on top of each other, the water
becoming a turmoil of thrashing paws and high-pitched yelps. The paws, normally
used for ripping and maiming prey, were now used as paddles, working through the
water, trying to keep their heads above the rolling waves.
It
was only a matter of seconds before the dogs realised they were not destined to
drown. Then, as though a switch had been flicked back on, they regained control,
totally focused, scouring the waters and shores for a sign of their prey.
However, all that could be seen were a few coloured lights, glistening on the
cold morning air. And
they too,
soon
disappeared.
Looking
toward the shore, they could almost hear their master’s voice. Hear his anger
and abuse quaking in their ears, and the boy’s name spilling from his lips.
Throughout
their days and weeks of training, the boy’s name was uttered over and over.
Like an incantation. As though their master cast a spell or hex upon the boy.
The name had become as familiar as their own. And now he was gone. The boy,
their prey, had vanished. They had failed.
To
their master, results were paramount, and failure never tolerated. Punishment
was inevitable.
Tentatively,
knowing what awaited them, the dogs paddled toward the shore. They would endure
their master’s wrath, cowering at his feet as the name of the boy reverberated
through their holding cells like a vengeful spirit. It would be a name they
would forever loathe.
That
name was Sam, their master’s greatest foe.
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