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CHAPTER 1
Mount Viper
That which stands between you and Him
The giant hunchbacked troll moved into the rocky path laden with snow. Glaring into its three eyes along the length of a dark-ribbed arrow, Caboose drew a long deep breath. His arm, throbbing with pain from being grazed by its club, strained to hold the arrow steady. Concentrating on the middle eye and not his bloodied, frostbitten fingers, he launched the vile rod with dingy yellow feathers and a pointy flint, through the trees. Jostled slightly by the wind, the arrow hummed through the forest, threaded a narrow gap, and plunged into the troll's left eye causing the hairy brute to rear back with a thunderous roar. Caboose cringed. He cupped his hands over his ears as the deafening blast pulsed by him. The wanton creature pulled the arrow from its gooey socket — the eye still attached to the tip of the arrowhead — and scanned the forest for him. Furious and in pain, the troll swung its club, shattering everything in its path before giving several loud nostril snorts.
Caboose jumped over a log and crashed through the top layer of ice concealed by a layer of snow, giving away his position. Hearing the crunch, the beast turned and batted a boulder lying on the ground in front of it toward him. Caboose harnessed the bow around his neck, spun it to his back and dropped to all fours as a barrage of wooden shanks hounded after him; he ran through the forest leaping and bounding. The boulder blasted through several trees, flew over his head, and crashed into the trunk of a Titan tree. Large seams raced up its sides all the way to its top far above the forest canopy. Its base cracked. Its middle buckled. The tree swayed back and then toppled forward bringing half the forest down with it. With nowhere to run, Caboose dove against the boulder and curled into a tight ball as chunks of bark, branches, and timber showered down upon him from above.
Caboose lie motionless wondering if he was still alive. A sallow cloud swirled above the shattered remains, which looked more like a ravaged battlefield than a forest. Muffled cracks and pops drummed a steady beat around him. Off in the distance, a large mound rose from the debris as the troll stood to its feet and shook its self off. A chunk of wood, approximately the size of a small thunder beast tail, splintered the hunch in its back. Unable to dislodge it with its stubby arms, it sniffed the air and started toward him.
Caboose opened his eyes. He moved his shoulder and groaned. Feeling the tremors of the troll drawing close, he dare not move. The beast stopped a few yards from him and sniffed again. With the stench of rotten flesh and sweat permeating the air, Caboose gagged. He looked up through the shattered pieces and remained still as he watched its frosty breath crystallize midair over him. He reached for the sword strapped to his side and pulled it from it scabbard. Catching its sheen, the troll swung its club and shattered the pile missing Caboose by inches. It raised the club high above its head again and smashed it down imprinting a deep crater in the ground.
Caboose froze. He watched the club take aim for his head and then rolled inward scuffing up against the troll's foot, causing it to miss again. He scurried to his feet and chopped a gash into its ankle, triggering the beast to teeter left, missing him again. Caboose ran behind a tree trying to avoid its baleful rage. Enraged and bleeding, the beast reached down and grabbed his tail. Lifting him high off the ground, it whisked him back and forth like a crocodile, ripping flesh from a five-day-old carcass.
"Help! Help!" shouted Caboose, wedged in its powerful grasp. He swung trying to cut himself free but lost his grip causing his crude sword to flip repeatedly before plunging tip-first into its hairy foot. The troll roared before launching Caboose high into the sky. With a torrent of wind beating against his face and the clouds drawing close, Caboose screamed.
"Caboose, wake up," whispered Pepper, shaking him softly. "Get up or you're gonna be late for school again."
Caboose, still mumbling in his sleep and tossing about in bed, opened his eyes with a gasp. He raised straight up placing his hands at his side as if to brace from falling.
"Help!" he shouted.
"Help you?" responded Pepper, with an odd look on her face. "I'm not going to be late because you couldn't get your lazy tail out of bed again," she replied, walking out the door.
Caboose wobbled down the street with a vacant gaze sprawled across his face. Small leather-bound books jostled in sea-green hands as he hurried to beat the ram's horn. He skidded around the corner almost wiping out a caravan on its way to market and then weaved through several carts and wagons. With his mind focused on not being late again, he forgot about the enormous log (he called a tail), swinging behind him; it collided into several wagons sending mushy marts, apple fritters and fig cakes toppling into the air — they soared high into the air before splattering all over the people. Oblivious to his clumsiness and the shrieks being cast at him, he raced across the street to school.
The schoolyard was empty. Soft crimson leaves with frayed edges and lightened apricot centers scampered across velvety blades-of-green standing on end. Driven by the wind, they assembled in small mounds on the steps before running from the wind whistler who was marching to his own tune across town. High above the backdrop of the mountains to the North, lightening flashed against the horizon. The scent of rain filled the valley approaching town and the smell of threshed grain from the mill carried in the branches above.
Caboose hurried to the door and jerked it open. The large bronze door, its hinges recently lubricated with jojoba, swung wide toward him, hitting him in the face. His head bounced backwards hitting the wall and was followed by a loud "thud," which quickly changed his casual expression. He nodded at Brook and the other girls walking by acting as if nothing had happened, but it was too late. Faint chuckles escaped from their mouths as they looked at each other with widened-eyes. Embarrassed, he watched them disappear into the herd of students shuffling down the hallway. Caboose shook his head and followed — the door closed on his tail.
This is going to be a long day, he thought.
Koby Puller, a.k.a. Caboose, was your typical teenage Unidor. He had a long tail, medium-sized arms and hands, green leathery skin, two huge legs, and a single horn protruding from his forehead. Everyone called him Caboose because he poked around and was typically late. He was tall for his age and overweight, which made him an easy target for bullies. But he wasn't afraid of them. He just didn't want to hurt anyone, or at least that's what he told himself.
Caboose had multiple ambitions in life, ambitions that drove him hard to be the best, better than everyone else. He had one that topped them all — but he dare not talk about it with his Papa. Like most boys his age, his Papa expected him to follow in his footsteps and carry on the family business. He, on the other hand, had no such plans. He had secret ambitions of being a racer, and not just any racer. His dreamed of racing in The Little Round About, the biggest race on the circle. To win brought fame, fortune, and recognition, things all boys desire. Caboose spent hours in the valleys and hills outside of town training. He ran small alpine trails. He swung from vines hanging from the trees. He jumped over logs, boulders and creeks. He even practiced running on all fours — unidors can drop down and use their hands like creatures with four legs. But no matter how hard he trained, he wasn't fast enough.
Caboose wobbled when he ran, making his stride off-balance and unable to obtain the speed needed to qualify. Some said he had a hip problem. Others said that he had been punished by the gods for the sins of his family. His mother told him His Majesty had touched him for a special purpose. But Caboose just told everyone he had a short leg. He used it as an excuse to feel sorry for himself and to blame others if things didn't go his way.
Caboose lived in Thunder Juice Town, a large town filled with merchants and traders. Life in "Old Juicy," as everyone liked to call her, was fast paced. Anyone and everyone could be found there; unidors, moogles (large hairy creatures that lived on land and in trees), thunder beasts (giant reptilian creatures), and humans — all kinds of beasts and creatures. There was no better place to buy and sell than Old Juicy.
In the middle of town, near the square, was an enormous outdoor market. Every day hundreds of vendors and travelers packed into bustling streets to buy and sell fresh goods from local and distant lands. Caboose loved walking through the markets. It was exciting to see so much activity — the smell of fresh baked breads and pies was an added bonus. He liked the thrill of discovering new things and he was always up for an adventure. Each journey into the markets was like a voyage on the high seas. There was always something new, something unfamiliar, something exotic that he hadn't seen before waiting to be discovered. His favorite thing to do after school was to sit around the fountain. He sat there for hours watching travelers from all over the circle barter and trade, or gamble bones and knuckle fight.
Hand-hewn idols, sparkling trinkets, clay pottery, silk garments made from raspy crickets, and other exotic cargo was sold in shops along the outskirts of the market. Spices, grains, baked delicacies, and mouth-puckering tart treats were all available for sale off the backs of carts near the interior — spices including: cumin; fennel; cinnamon; apple mint; paradise grain; orrisroot and spikenard. Grains such as: buckwheat; rye; flaxseed; millet and sorghum were among the favorites. Since this was his last year of school, Caboose used the markets as a crossroad for future job prospects. As most teenagers, he was still searching for his purpose and mission in life.
A perimeter defensive wall seven cubic's wide and made of rough stones quarried from the mountains, encompassed the town. The different-sized stones lined with battlements on top, contained several secret passageways and caches. Positioned at each entrance were gatehouse towers with keyhole arrow slits cut into the front and sides. The towers stood guard over eight gates spread out evenly around the wall. Engraved high on each side of the gates was the head of an eagle — each head slanted toward the gate as if keeping watch upon all who entered. Smaller drum towers fortified the mid-sections of the wall while taller turrets adorned the corners; each tower quartered guards, sculleries, and an armory stockpiled with weapons and armor.
Outside the walls, meadows of mantled flowers rolled gently up the base of the mountains. Honeysuckle vines draped over bushes and thickets in the foothills filling the air with a sweet fresh aroma; the delightful smell coddled travels and soothed the soul. Attracted by the colorful blooms filled with sugary nectar, swarms of honey-buzzers (bees) and hummers (humming birds) waltzed from bloom to bloom drinking their fill of the delicious bounty.
Tributaries, formed by deep bubbling underground springs, flowed in the valleys between rows of shady knolls. Fresh water streams and lakes teaming with life nourished fields crowned with wheat, barley, and rye. Rows of olive trees covered the hill outside the eastern gate and large groves of fruit trees lined the river and streams like plagues of desert locust moving across the plains. Tribal villages spread out across the countryside and smaller towns and clans rested across the river, mountains, and plains, each one a haven for travelers on their way to Thunder Juice Town.
Thunder Juice Town was located by a majestic river called The Redmadafa. It was the source of life for all living things and the treasure of Thunder Juice Town and its residents. Its headwaters miraculously started from a split rock under the threshold of The Gallery, the temple where people worshipped a Mighty Warrior Eagle. People traveled great distances to see the split rock from which it flowed — it truly was a miracle. At the temple, the water was ankle deep; a little further it was knee-deep; then waist high, until finally becoming a mighty river that no one could cross.
Caboose walked over to his locker and opened it. The small cubby hole, which bore into the wall, looked more like a storefront in the market than it did a place for books. Small trinkets and several of his favorite snacks cluttered the tiny space. He reached in, grabbed a mushy mart and took a bite. He made space for a book, took a couple out, and then slammed the door shut without locking it; there was no need, a fist-sized hole caved through the middle.
Caboose walked down the hallway on his way to class and was struck in the shoulder by a large moogle. He looked back expecting an 'excuse me' or any gesture that would acknowledge his existence but the moogle never broke pace. Caboose was more of a people watcher than a people talker but that didn't mean you could treat him as if he wasn't there. He rounded the corner on his way to Herbs and Plants, and glimpsed Mack and Oka standing by the stairs, which were in need of repair. The old weathered boards split in the middle and sunk low when stepped on.
Mack looked at Oka, a young lad with a thick head of thatched red hair, and nodded his head toward Rammer, the new kid from Junction Point. Oka stepped in front of him and slapped his books out of his hands. The books slid across the hallway and slammed against the wall. Oka wacked his head and moved it side to side trying to get a reaction, but Rammer wasn't impressed.
Rammer looked Oka over and sighed. He noticed Mack, the leader of the lixoar gang, which consisted of himself and four others, waiting for him to make a move — lixoars are meat-eating thunder beasts that stick to their own kind. He knew now was not the time or place to deal with them.
Caboose walked over by the books.
"Hey Caboose, you been drinking Thunder Juice again? You sure are walking funny," said Mack.
Caboose didn't say anything. He reached down to pick up the books but Oka stepped on top of them and slid them down the hall.
"Hey boys, I heard Caboose and Patches are going to the dance together," laughed Mack, leaning against the wall.
"Patches wouldn't be caught with a dead beat like Cabooboo. Her locking rocks aren't that thick," rattled Oka.
Caboose couldn't pass on that one. He turned around and wisecracked, "You're real funny, Oka. You know, I was going to take her but she said she was already going with you."
Mack looked at the others standing by him, "Now that's funny."
"Is th-th-th-that right," stuttered Oka. "We'll see how fa-fa-fa-funny you are at lunch. Meet me behind the wood shop and da-da-don't be late."
Oka stuttered when nervous. His self-confidence couldn't take the embarrassment of being challenged by Caboose.
Rammer, a medium-sized unidor, strolled over and picked up his books. Everyone laughed at Oka and then headed for class. The ram's horn sounded marshaling everyone into class. Caboose toddled into the room with his head held low. He passed the teacher's desk and sat down.
Whispers resounded chair to chair.
Heads turned aside.
Caboose pulled out his writing pad and scribbled a drawing of a tree. His heart raced with the thought of fighting Oka at lunch.
Why didn't I just keep my big mouth shut? he thought. Caboose had a temper, that when triggered, would put him in awkward situations. And he didn't like to fight. He was big and strong, although he had yet to truly discover his inner strength, and he was afraid if he hit someone he would hurt him.
The windows in the classroom faced the tree line leading down to the banks of The Redmadafa. Class projects lined the walls and herb experiments filled transparent jars along the windowsill. A cool gentle breeze blew across the room ruffling writing pads and pushing dust clouds along the floor — they slammed against the wall and crashed back down, brown-washing the floor.
"Hey," echoed a whisper behind Caboose. "Are you really going to fight Oka at lunch?" asked Zoan. Zoan had known Caboose since the sixth grade. He was real smart but not very athletic.
"I'm not fighting anyone. Besides, without Mack and the others, Oka wouldn't be as boastful as he is."
The teacher, a medium-sized herbivore with maroon strips on his body, glanced their way. He hesitated while Zoan slid back in his chair, and then continued his lecture on which plants were eatable and which ones have natural healing properties good for cuts, wounds, and digestion.
Zoan leaned forward again. "You better pay close attention to this. You're gonna need it."
Caboose didn't respond. He didn't even want to think about it. He just wanted to be left alone. Caboose, for the most part, was quiet. He minded his own business and tried to get along with everyone. He helped others when he could and was an over-all nice guy. He loved doing things with his Papa and, to his little sister, he was the greatest.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The Redmadafa"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Dr. Gary Warren Foshee.
Excerpted by permission of Thomas Nelson.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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