Clouds of Thunder

By Bryan Mero

When the legend of enormous prehistoric birds turn into reality, graduate student Doug Winston is called to help out the local police department of a small mountain town. He had no idea what he was getting into when his professor sent him or who he might meet. When Doug's greatest fears become reality it will be up to him to save the entire town.

Follow Doug (the timid graduate student), Owen (the local bird obsessed hermit) and Sky (a prehistoric Native American) as they all struggle with a creature so huge that scientists used to only refer to them as fantasy. Could large birds still be around today? Reports of giant birds still make there way to the headlines as far north as Alaska to the mideastern United States. Watch the skies!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryan Mero
• Release date: Apr 16, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452446165

Bryan Mero

Writing from an early age, I always wanted to write my own novels. Recently I become the author of a comic book series called Spirit Knight and write movie reviews and tv blogs for Reelfans.com. I have also written a book about building a personal bocce court that has sold over 400 copies.

Book preview

chapter 1

In the remote high, narrow valley where the long grass grows, a herd of buffalo graze. The herd is shrinking with each passing year. The heat of the midday sun beats down on dusty backs as they feast on the rich grasses. Distant blue gray mountains rise to the east and west and on their flanks, streams tumble into the valley fed from the melting snows. The thick grasses create a rich, lush paradise for buffalo, antelope and elk. It also creates the perfect hunting ground for the region’s savage predators. A sudden gust of wind travels down the mountains bending the grass almost to the ground. Today there is a stirring and swirling of hot air from the valley floor upward in violent updrafts. The moisture-laden air spirals skyward and is quickly transformed into a rapidly growing thunderhead, a huge white, gleaming, skull-like cloud. The rushing air causes frictional chaos within the darkening pillar from which it issues the low growl of internal rumbling. Friction produces a growing electrical charge that is finally released as a giant flash of lightning ripping apart the atmosphere. The sudden explosion shakes the valley floor. The thunder is a warning call to all living things below it.

The stout, chestnut colored, mother buffalo looks for her calf grazing in the distance. The calf’s legs are still a bit shaky. With every step she realizes the other calves are running to their own mothers. The deep bleating of the bull buffalo echoes through the narrow valley. Other bulls join in the warning call as the bleating gets louder. The intensity of the sun is temporarily concealed by the massive pillar of clouds. She spies over the tall grass as her calf starts to run, stumble through the impeding herbage. As the day turns to artificial night she stands with the herd as her eyes adjust. Her calf had wandered very far from the rest of the herd. The herd is now crowding close together creating a protective ring. Calves are given priority on the inside as the bulls patrol the outside of the pack crying out in loud tones warning the herd of looming danger. The calf continues to run but it will take time to reach the protection of the group. The mother buffalo backs up into the group, waiting and crying out herself for her baby. Danger is coming. The clouds shift and she is blinded by the brightness of the sun. She cannot see her calf, but then suddenly, the sun is blocked by a dark figure in the sky. Its wings are wider than a fallen tree and as black as the night. She sprints from the herd towards her calf, desperate to save it from impending doom. The creature of the sky now races down like lightning and strikes the calf at full speed stabbing with its spiked talons and lifting it away from its lumbering mother. She will have to wait another season before bearing another calf. This has been the third she has lost in as many seasons.

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chapter 2

He crawls slowly over the dried grass. The large, brown headdress presses him low to the valley floor. The heat of the day only enhances the musty smell of the dried buffalo hide covering his body. This is the day of the hunt and the tribe needs food desperately. Slowly he crawls, silently and with such grace to not break a single blade of dried grass. The buffalo herd is decreasing every season. He needs to kill at least one buffalo today so his village will not starve. Every movement takes him closer to his goal. He always hunts alone. The others will not hunt with him. His name, Sky Hunter, was given to him because of his light blue eyes, the color of the clear plains’ sky. The shaman had warned that he should not hunt with the other men. His cursed vision would most likely lead his fellow hunters into danger. He was not allowed a wife or to have children. For the sake of the tribe he could not risk the chance of passing along his curse to the next generation. Sky Hunter has incredibly innovative hunting instincts. He learned to hunt on his own and has brought back many animals for the tribe. They would feast upon his kill and used the inedible parts for clothing and shelter. Even with his head down he knows that he is close to the buffalo herd. He is almost to the ridgeline and will slowly make his decent into the green, shallow valley. As the buffalo pass to graze he will jump from his position and use his spear to take back the prize. It was always a simple plan but a tough one to execute. One missed step and the entire herd will stampede. It had succeeded as many times as it had failed. He hopes it will not fail today or the children will go without.

A cool breeze brushes his face as he slowly crawls. The sun has been blocked. He methodically turns his head to see a cloud, shaped like a large tower, a mountain in the sky flowing upward. A drip of sweat stings his eye but he does not shudder or wince. He does not want to reveal his position or intent to the herd. Then he hears the sound. The sound he has heard many times before. There is a low pitched screech in the distance along with the ground shaking sounds of thunder. A flash of lightning catches his eye as he waits to hear the echo of thunder. That will tell him how close danger really is. The thunder booms in only three beats off his callused finger and the low screech accompanies it once again. He does not have a lot of time before the herd is attacked and stampedes away, taking away his chance for the day. Sky Hunter throws off his head dress of buffalo skin, coated in mud and tall dry grass and hunches in attack position. His blue eyes view the horizon. If the sound of the creature was only three beats away, he must hurry and try to use his spear on the herd as they bunch up and protect themselves. He straightens up and runs towards the bleating cries of the buffalo. There is a calf running towards the herd but he has a long distance to make up. Sky Hunter runs but he is too far behind to reach the calf. Even if he could reach it in time, calves are not good eating and would not provide enough for the tribe. If he could reach the calf he would cover it so it could not be taken. It would be better for the calf to live, eat and grow thus providing for his tribe another day.

He feels the sun break through once again. The warmth on the back of his neck feels like a flame of fire. He must reach the herd. He might be able to take down one of the bulls during the ensuing panic before they stampede. The young calf seems to be slowing down. A buffalo is pulling away from the protection of the herd. It is probably its mother moving on instinct to protect her calf. It might be his only hope for a prize when all this is over. Then the warm flame of the sun on his neck quickly cools. He finds himself in shadow, but this was not a shadow from the tower of clouds. The darkness moves as fast as he runs. The shape of the shadow around him would cover his small village. It moves with