PLUS
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"DOES IT FEEL different," Emmett inquired, "now being a Shannon and a Papist?"
Diana giggled. "It felt good. 1 don't know about different."
"Tsk. The woman is being lecherous and obscene. Cover your ears, Horse."
Horse was concentrating on plodding, favoring his now-reshod leg. They had spent two days with the Duval family as honored guests. Abraham had given them more than enough fodder and provisions to make Albany. Elaborate protestations of eternal debt and friendship, and promises of reunions, had been made, which no one expected would ever be kept.
The day was made for traveling, sunny and breezy. Emmett, feeling most peaceful, had to force himself to load pistol and rifle. Weapons seemed a profanity for this day, this mood and this moment. With his other gear, they lay, unprimed, in the dray. Emmett and Diana walked beside Horse, hand in hand. They were about half a mile from the Indians' farm when Emmett heard the first rifle shot. A hunter—but Emmett stepped to the wagon and lifted out his rifle. Then two more thuds and the louder bang of a shotgun. Diana, startled, looked at him, knowing…
"Wait here," Emmett said, forcing steadiness. Hunting bag . . . powder horn . . . belt . . . knife . . . pistol and tomahawk. "Get the wagon off into the brush."
Diana nodded. Scared. And Emmett was running back for the Duvals in his long frontiersman's lope.
Screams. Two more shots. Emmett cut off the road and up a rise, zigzagging toward the farm, sheltered by the brush. On the crest he knelt, hand snapping frizzens back, pouring powder into pans.
The body of Abraham Duval lay in back of the house in a pool of blood. He had already been scalped. From the house's front Emmett heard a last scream—cut short.
Staying low, he went down the gentle slope to the stone fence, and around to the Duvals' garden. Over the wall he saw the bodies of the three women, and that of the child. They were all dead.
Pinched Face was crouched over one. He ripped the scalp free and stood, holding it up, exhibiting it to another of McShane's raiders.
Staying low, he went down the gentle slope to the stone fence, and around to the Duvals' garden. Over the wall he saw the bodies of the three women, and that of the child. They were all dead.
Pinched Face was crouched over one. He ripped the scalp free and stood, holding it up, exhibiting it to another of McShane's raiders.
Rage took Emmett and his rifle fired. The ball took Pinched Face in the stomach. He screamed and then went to his knees, guts spilling. The second man, unarmed, turned and was running for the open back door of the house as Emmett, blind in his fury as any Jacobite pikeman, went over the wall, tomahawk in hand. In three bounds he was on the man and shattered his skull.
A musket boomed out the doorway, and Emmett spun away, going down and rolling backward, behind the sheltering stone circle of the well. Movement behind a curtained window, and Emmett dropped the tomahawk, dragged the pistol from his belt and snap-fired. Glass shattered and there was a shout of pain.
His fingers fumbled ball and patch from his pouch, and the third raider ran out the door at him, musket leveled. Emmett scooped the tomahawk up, rose to his knees and threw. It hit the man just as the musket fired, and smashed through the outlaw's rib cage. Emmett heard another gun blast hard on the first—from the window—and the ball hit him in the side.
Christ, Christ, but it hurt, but there was still one of them left, and fingers poured powder and rolled a patchless ball down the rifle's muzzle, and the butt stamped on the ground to send the ball home, and powder in the pan, and Frenchy McShane, blood-bearded and half blinded, came out of the house an enraged bear, pistol aimed.
Both men fired.
And missed.
Frenchy, bawling, had his bloody scalping knife out of his belt, still attacking, and somehow Emmett was swinging the rifle by the barrel. The butt caught McShane along the jawbone.
McShane's skull crushed, and the burly man went down into the dirt. The rifle's stock was broken at the grip. Emmett dropped it. The pain crashed on him and he fell.
Not yet, Shannon. Not yet.
Emmett's numb fingers pulled his knife and drove it deep into McShane's back.
Emmett sagged back against the well's stonework.
Waiting for Diana.
There was something he needed to tell her. And then he knew nothing more.
Emmett Shannon never regained consciousness. He died just at twilight.
Diana Shannon sat beside him until he died.
Diana Shannon sat beside him until he died.
* * * *
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TWO MONTHS LATER Diana Shannon came to Cherry Valley.
She was still driving the dray, but it bounced on new springing; its metalwork sparkled and it had been painted bird-shell blue. Horse plodded along in his slow and steady pace.
Diana had stopped outside the town and let her traveling party continue ahead. She had freshened up at a creek and put on her best dress from Albany over petticoats so stiff that they crackled when she walked. Now she had her red hair tied up against the heat; there was a stubborn tilt to her head, and the line of her jaw was firm. Her figure had yet to thicken from the child she carried. Around her neck was the little leather pouch with the single rifle ball inside.
As she drove through the village, she saw all the landmarks that Emmett had mentioned: the inn where he told his stories and worked his charm; the church he never attended; the meeting hall, where as a man of property, he had cast his first vote.
The farm was just as he described. It was the last one at the far end of town and set at the crossroads. It was a poor farm with a thin crop, and the field was pocked with stumps that wanted pulling. The house was out of sight, but she knew it was at the end of the cart path that climbed the knoll from the main road. Emmett had said it was drafty and the roof sagged where it didn't leak; but it had a good strong chimney that drew as well as any in Cherry Valley. She was sure she would find it just so.
The rest she would tend to in good time.
Two boys burst through a hole in a hedge of wild rose and tumbled in the field. They heard her pull in Horse, and turned and stood quiet as she tied the reins and stepped off the dray.
Diana walked up to them. She didn't say a word, but just looked at first one and then the other. Lord, help me, she thought, there's not many years between us. I could be their sister. One stood at waist level, the other to her breast. She could see where their chests would broaden and their shoulders gain their breadth.
They smiled at her with Emmett's bright smile.
"Brian," she said, nodding to the taller; "Farrell," to the other. "Your father sent me."
She hesitated. How to say it? Then: "I'm Diana Shannon." Not a tremble to her voice. "I'm your new mother."
NEXT: Tragedy Stalks The Shannons
*****
S.O.S. ALLAN'S NEW NOVEL
Between February and May of 1942, German U-boats operated with impunity off the Florida coast, sinking scores of freighters from Cape Canaveral to Key West and killing nearly five thousand people. Residents were horrified witnesses of the attacks—the night skies were aflame and in the morning the beaches were covered with oil and tar, ship parts and charred corpses. The Germans even landed teams of saboteurs charged with disrupting war efforts in the factories of the North. This novel is based on those events. For my own purposes, I set the tale in the fictitious town of Juno Beach on the banks of the equally fictitious Seminole River—all in the very real Palm Beach County, a veritable wilderness in those long ago days. Among the witnesses were my grandfather and grandmother, who operated an orchard and ranch in the area.
*****
A DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY
The year is 1778 and the Revolutionary War has young America trapped in the crossfire of hatred and fear. Diana, an indentured servant, escapes her abusive master with the help of Emmett Shannon, a deserter from the desperate army at Valley Forge. They fall in love and marry, but their happiness is shattered and Diana Shannon must learn to survive on her own. From that moment on she will become a true woman of her times, blazing a path from lawless lands in the grips of the Revolution, to plague-stricken Philadelphia, to the burning of Washington in the War Of 1812.
*****
TWO NEW AUDIOBOOKS ONLY $4.95!
Tales Sometimes Tall, but always true, of Allan Cole's years in Hollywood with his late partner, Chris Bunch. How a naked lady almost became our first agent. How we survived La-La Land with only the loss of half our brain cells. How Bunch & Cole became the ultimate Fix-It
Boys. How an alleged Mafia Don was very, very good to us. The guy who cornered the market on movie rocks. Andy Warhol's Fire Extinguisher. The Real Stars Of Hollywood. Why they don't make million dollar movies. See The Seven Pi$$ing Dwarfs. Learn: how to kill a "difficult" actor… And much, much more.
THE TIMURA TRILOGY: When The Gods Slept, Wolves Of The Gods and The Gods Awaken. This best selling fantasy series now available as trade paperbacks, e-books (in all varieties) and as audiobooks. Visit The Timura Trilogy page for links to all the editions.
NEWLY REVISED KINDLE EDITIONS OF THE TIMURA TRILOGY NOW AVAILABLE. (1) When The Gods Slept;(2) Wolves Of The Gods; (3) The Gods Awaken.
*****
A NATION AT WAR WITH ITSELF: In Book Three Of The Shannon Trilogy, young Patrick Shannon is the heir-apparent to the Shannon fortune, but murder and betrayal at a family gathering send him fleeing into the American frontier, with only the last words of a wise old woman to arm him against what would come. And when the outbreak of the Civil War comes he finds himself fighting on the opposite side of those he loves the most. In The Wars Of The Shannons we see the conflict, both on the battlefield and the homefront, through the eyes of Patrick and the members of his extended Irish-American family as they struggle to survive the conflict that ripped the new nation apart, and yet, offered a dim beacon of hope.
*****
NEW: THE AUDIOBOOK VERSION OF
THE HATE PARALLAX
What if the Cold War never ended -- but continued for a thousand years? Best-selling authors Allan Cole (an American) and Nick Perumov (a Russian) spin a mesmerizing "what if?" tale set a thousand years in the future, as an American and a Russian super-soldier -- together with a beautiful American detective working for the United Worlds Police -- must combine forces to defeat a secret cabal ... and prevent a galactic disaster! This is the first - and only - collaboration between American and Russian novelists. Narrated by John Hough. Click the title links below for the trade paperback and kindle editions. (Also available at iTunes.)
*****
THE SPYMASTER'S DAUGHTER:
A novel by Allan and his daughter, Susan
After laboring as a Doctors Without Borders physician in the teaming refugee camps and minefields of South Asia, Dr. Ann Donovan thought she'd seen Hell as close up as you can get. And as a fifth generation CIA brat, she thought she knew all there was to know about corruption and betrayal. But then her father - a legendary spymaster - shows up, with a ten-year-old boy in tow. A brother she never knew existed. Then in a few violent hours, her whole world is shattered, her father killed and she and her kid brother are one the run with hell hounds on their heels. They finally corner her in a clinic in Hawaii and then all the lies and treachery are revealed on one terrible, bloody storm- ravaged night.
BASED ON THE CLASSIC STEN SERIES by Allan Cole & Chris Bunch: Fresh from their mission to pacify the Wolf Worlds, Sten and his Mantis Team encounter a mysterious ship that has been lost among the stars for thousands of years. At first, everyone aboard appears to be long dead. Then a strange Being beckons, pleading for help. More disturbing: the presence of AM2, a strategically vital fuel tightly controlled by their boss - The Eternal Emperor. They are ordered to retrieve the remaining AM2 "at all costs." But once Sten and his heavy worlder sidekick, Alex Kilgour, board the ship they must dare an out of control defense system that attacks without warning as they move through dark warrens filled with unimaginable horrors. When they reach their goal they find that in the midst of all that death are the "seeds" of a lost civilization.
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
NOW AN AUDIOBOOK!
 |
Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969
|
In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is "The Blue Meanie," a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment