Shadowman - Sample first chapter

To die is to escape this world's earthly chains of pain and despair and move on to another realm where our afterlives are blessed with milk and honey. We mere mortals are promised an unseen kingdom bequeathed to us by our Gods in tomes forged of simple ink and parchment. These texts are filled with ancient legends and stories that have passed from mouth to ear over a multitude of generations. Ah, but faith, faith is the key to unlocking those promises held within the bound pages. Promises which allow us passage through the pearly gates of Heaven, into the mead halls of Valhalla or on to the Happy Hunting Grounds. Sadly, faith is something I have very little of.

I gazed across the expanse of forest that lay before me and stood resolute as if I were the only person on the planet. Like an insurmountable army the pines stood stalwart against the winds, majestically challenging the skies. I was quite possibly the first human to join their ranks. Sure, there had certainly been natives inhabiting this land at some point in history, but they were nomadic tribes that simply foraged and moved on. I would the first civilized man to call this place home. For many it was too desolate, too isolated, but for me that is precisely what made it perfect.

Even shrouded within this dense forest of pine I could hear Michi Gami calling out my name, beckoning me to her golden sands. It was such a contradiction for me, the water, especially the big expanse of this great lake. I was terrified of water, and yet, the beauty and serenity of her depths were like a comforting blanket.

I followed the sounds of the lake through the thick trees, stopping every so often to clear a trail by chopping down smaller trees and saplings which I would use later. I used my knife to fashion a toothpick from one of the saplings and dug a troublesome piece of meat from between my canine and first incisor. Raw meat is always so sinewy and hard to chew up completely but does provide a certain amount of nutrients not found in cooked meat. That was the last my raw meat, everything else was salted and dried which would sustain me through the winter. However, I preferred raw as it seemed to suit me just fine.

Daylight shone down through the trees casting a heavenly glow upon the dew laden needles of pine. The tiny droplets sparkled like diamonds held up to a lantern’s glow. This invading light told me I was nearing an opening in the trees that would lead to a meadow or possibly even the beach. The sounds of the water reaching my ears was no longer a gentle lapping of the shore but a slapping of the sands with wetted hands. It wouldn’t be much longer before I ran out of timber land in which to hide away. I cleared a half dozen or so more saplings and broke free from the forest's grasp.

Clumps of dune grass undulated in the winds blowing up the sandy crag. A few dozen paces found me perched on a ledge of sand overlooking the coast. I stood on the ledge watching the intricate dance of the great waters. White caps rolled from as far away as my eye could see, crisscrossing the small bay.

Even though the trees had barely started their colorful process of ushering in winter, it was still apparent that the brutal season was fast approaching. I would need shelter much sooner than I would be able to build something sturdy and proper. All of the signs in nature predicted it would be a rough season indeed and I was destined to have to ride it out until the next spring. Squirrels were busy storing up nuts while black bears had all but abandoned any vegetarian semblance of their diet for pure meat. I ran across several deer carcasses as I was clear cutting the woods which sent me to my pack to check how many cartridges for my Sharps rifle I had left. Less than a dozen were all that remained. I would have to make my shots count that’s for sure. Not that they would be of any use against the beast who had proven to be my biggest threat.

I spent the better part of that first week after escaping Toledo to cut saplings and drag them deep into the forest where the thickest boughs resided. Using grape vines I found near the shore I fashioned a crude shovel to dig the pit I would need for shelter and also fashioned a crude travois to drag my dead horse and meager belongings into my new home. I had not known her for long and rode her much too hard. My mind drifted to an old friend from another life and I wondered what had ever happened to her. Not being a big fan of horsemeat I hadn’t decided whether or not to smoke the meat or just bury the critter.

I took a break from my labors and wedged myself comfortably between two mammoth pines and stared at the blue skies allowing my mind to drift away. After several moments I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a notebook fashioned from scrap parchments held together by waxed twine. I pulled out one of my prized pencils, all the way from London, England and honed the point with my knife. I started to put down my thoughts which were a jumbled mess as was the norm.

I wasn’t certain if the order of events should be kept strictly in a chronological order, or in order of what I deemed most important. But I was most assured that if my story were to ever be told I would locked away as a lunatic or worse, end my days at the end of a hangman’s rope dangling there alive, kicking and thrashing until the end of days for the amusement of the kingdom. And the tragedy of either outcome caused me to shudder to my marrow as I was learning day by incredulous day that one simply endured immortality, they didn’t live it.