Fighters, Feared and Fallen

By ND Richman

Thomas is swept into Robert Cain’s web of terror
He's forced to fight in a child army
Against the most evil of people
And learns the first casualty of war is the truth

“If you can’t trust yourself, Thomas, who can you trust?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: ND Richman
• Release date: Jun 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310493218

ND Richman

I started to write for my son, a reluctant reader. I set out to write a series of books that captivated from the first chapter and pushed the reader through with a solid plot, relentless action and adventure, and humour.Comments received from parents and teachers indicate I've accomplished my goal. I'm very proud of the Boulton Quest Series. It has captivated the hearts of reluctant readers around the world, boys and girls alike, and is entertaining their brothers, sisters, parents, and grandparents.Camping, hiking, fishing, hunting, and getting into trouble. What a great way to grow up. One of my favourite memories is sitting on the handlebars of my brother's bike, my dog on my lap, as he careened down the steep mountain trails above our home in Kamloops, BC. My brother and I had caves, tree forts, frog filled ponds, and cactus patches to play in, and slingshots for protection. Somehow I survived my childhood and proudly moved on to fatherhood. My children, Christopher, Michael, Thomas, and Katherine, kindly donated their names, characters, and ideas to the Boulton Quest series of books.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thomas lay on his rescued Ikea bed, hung his feet over the end, and trembled as he recalled Michael’s premonition. Michael had bolted awake from a two-day coma and blubbered about fire, death, and planes falling from the sky. Then, he’d looked at Thomas and things had gotten really weird. Michael’s eyes had widened. He’d cried. He’d told Thomas he was sorry and said there was nothing he could do. And then, he’d refused to talk about it.

Michael’s premonitions had a habit of becoming reality.

Thomas glanced around his bedroom. He liked it as much as he liked horror movies. With walls the colour of bleached bones, a faded closet door dislodged from its track, and a black sewer pipe running from the ceiling into a concrete floor, the room was rough, unfinished, and broken.

He turned off the bedside light, a pewter lamp shaped like a dragon with fake rubies for eyes. The shade and an eye were missing. It seemed to wink at him.

His computer screen flashed. He flopped out of bed and read a message from his friend, Braden.

"You coming for paintball tomorrow?"

Thomas sat on a folding metal chair. You bet.

A spider dropped onto the keyboard, and Thomas sprung back. The spider skittered to the letter T, turned to him, and pawed its hairy legs at the air.

Geez, you’re a creepy little guy, eh?

Thomas peered up at the ceiling and looked for more spiders. The stucco shimmered like it was moving, an illusion created by the low light. He grabbed a notepad from the desk, and used it to sweep the spider onto the floor. Weird.

His skin crawled. He rubbed his arms and glanced behind him into the closet. His shirts hung like corpses from trees. He snuggled into the chair and turned to his computer.

Which gun are you bringing?

"All of them," Braden replied.

Thomas laughed. Braden owned at least six paintball guns.

"LOL. See you at one."

Thomas recalled the paintball battle last week. He had found a hiding spot under a fern and had picked off his friends for thirty whole minutes while they had tried to find him. He was the best player and he could thank Michael for that. After his premonition, Michael had enrolled himself, his brother, Chris, Katherine, and Thomas into Strong’s Gym. They had worked out for two hours a night since then, and Thomas’s muscles bulged. He loved weight lifting and couldn’t go a day without it. Michael had also bought them paintball guns. They battled in the forest alongside Richards Road every weekend.

He flexed his triceps and grinned.

His cell phone buzzed and he watched the vibrator drive it across the table and over the edge. He lunged and snatched it out of the air.

Little late for a phone call, he thought.

He clicked the text icon and read.

"Your children belong to me now."

Thomas's stomach flipped. This was the kind of prank Michael used to pull until his premonition. Michael didn’t joke about much of anything now.

The phone buzzed again.

"Your children belong to me now."

The texts quickened into a singular vibration and streamed by so fast he couldn’t read them. The phone grew hot; he dropped it onto the table.

His scalp prickled. Balls. That's just weird.

His computer speakers squealed. He jumped and turned down the volume. Posts raced down the screen, posts shared between his friends, and their friends, brothers, sisters, parents, everyone. Thomas grabbed his mouse and clicked on one. A blue text box with yellow words appeared. Thomas gaped. This can’t be.

"Your children belong to me now."

His fingers grew cold and he started to shake. The mouse felt foreign, like it was a real mouse poised to bite his hand. He called up his Twitter account. Thousands of tweets screamed by.

Your children belong to me now.

He checked Tumblr, Instagram, Reddit, and Snapchat. The message had overrun the internet.

Someone banged against his bedroom door.

Thomas jumped and fell out of his chair. What the?

It's me, Thomas. Open up!

He bolted to the door, tripped over the chair, and slammed his head into the concrete floor.

Aghhh!

Thomas? What's wrong? His sister, Katherine, yelled through the door.

He rubbed his fingers through his hair and found a lump. Just … just a sec.

He staggered to the door and unlocked it. Katherine pushed it into his face before he could turn the handle. Her red hair stuck to her skin. Her pupils were huge, pushing her blue irises to the rims.

What is this? Look at this text.

Her phone buzzed like a fly trapped behind a screen. Thomas grabbed it from her clammy hand.

Your children belong to me now.

Katherine bobbed on her toes. There’s thousands of them. And they’re on TV. Every channel!

Balls.

What? Katherine asked. She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

I … this isn't possible … everyone?

What do you mean? Everyone?

Thomas stepped aside. His monitor flickered against Katherine’s face.

How? How do you send a message to everyone? she whispered.

You don't. You can't. I … it doesn’t seem possible. E-mail, phones, Facebook, Tumblr, TV, and Twitter? At the same time? It can't be. Did, did you call Chris?

I tried. I can't use the phone with these texts coming in. The home phone doesn't work either.

An awareness spread over Thomas. A clarity that filled him with dread. He shuddered. Michael.

Michael?

This is it, Katherine. This is what he saw in his vision.

Do you think?

The computer flipped off and plunged the basement into darkness. A siren wound up from outside.

Thomas looked up. I didn’t know the town had an air raid siren.

Chapter 2

Thomas pulled the battery from his phone and killed the vibrations. He grabbed the charger from his desk. Take the battery out of your phone, Katherine. Let’s get out of here.

And go where?

Michael, he must know more. Thomas grabbed a couple of flashlights from his closet. He turned one on and tossed the other to Katherine. Let's go.

As good as anywhere, I guess. I hope Mom’s okay.

Thomas stopped. She's flying the red eye, isn't she?

Yeah. She lands at eight.

Five hours, Thomas said. He dashed up the stairs and pulled open the door. The siren was a hundred times louder and he resisted the urge to cover his ears. The air crackled like high voltage power lines and pink and green northern lights streaked across the sky. Thomas crouched and looked up. What the …

He stepped onto the landing. The night air stuck to his face like a damp blanket. He scuttled down the stairs and stopped. Katherine ran into his back.

What? She asked.

Thomas turned to her. He felt like he’d never see her again and it terrified him. I can hear something.

Over the siren?

Thomas looked up, into the gap between their house and their neighbour’s. Something was shrieking, and it was in the air.

Katherine grabbed his arm. What the heck is that?

Thomas broke into goose flesh. It’s getting louder. He covered his ears and pictured the Fell-Beasts, the dragon-like creatures in The Lord of the Rings.

The black nose of a jet appeared over their heads, and then the white underbelly of a Boeing 737. The wings passed and a landing wheel struck the top of their house, blowing the roof off and showering them with shingles and wood. Thomas pushed Katherine to the sidewalk and dove on top of her as a two-by-four helicoptered over his head. A roof joist dropped onto him, shooting bolts of pain through his back.

The jet engines screamed and the ground shook. A massive fireball blew from the earth, turning the night into day.

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut.

A wave of hot air hit them. He smelled burnt hair. Their house moaned and he braced, anticipating the weight of the wall on his body. He gripped Katherine and cried out to God. They were going to die.

At least we’ll die together.

Katherine pushed him off.

A fireball plunged through their neighbour’s roof, blowing out the windows. Streaks of flame pushed through every crevice in the house. It exploded like a match.

A fireball hurtled straight at them. Look out! Thomas pulled Katherine away as a flaming chunk of metal slammed into the sidewalk and peppered them with chunks of concrete.

Katherine pushed him towards the garage. We HAVE to get out of here! Go!

They stumbled down the sidewalk. A streak of fire roared onto their house and flames shot up over the walls. Katherine dashed to the garage and pushed open the door as a hunk of fuselage crashed through the roof, blew a wall of fire through the building, and hurled them onto their backs. They jumped up, raced alongside the garage wall, and leapt over the gate into the alley. They skipped around chunks of metal, shingles, embers, and nail-studded wood and ran onto Richards Road. Thomas stopped and looked back. Their neighbourhood was a glowing pile of cinders. Flames roared into the sky. The smell of jet fuel and smoke nauseated him. He felt dizzy and fell to his knees. Braden, his best friend, lived just down from him inside the inferno. Thomas put his face in his hands and sobbed.

Come on, let’s go. Katherine grabbed his arm and pulled him up. You okay?

Thomas looked into the flames. No, nothing’s okay anymore.

They turned down Richards Road and broke into a run. There were no people, cars, fire trucks, or police.

Where is everyone? Thomas asked.

Thomas jogged along the centre line behind Katherine. A birch forest lay parallel to the road, to their right. The wind gusted, hammering the tree trunks together. Thomas flinched. The bleached bark reflected the flames from their neighbourhood like a theatre screen.

His side hurt and he had a lump in his throat so huge he needed to puke it up. Katherine!

She looked back. Her eyes were stark white against her blackened skin. Her red hair glowed, except for the ends that were singed. She walked to the shoulder and sat on the ground, pulled up her knees, and placed her head onto them.

Thomas staggered to her. We've been running for an hour. I'm tired.

Katherine looked at him. Her tears had gathered charcoal from her skin and carved black streaks down her cheeks.

Their neighbourhood backdropped a wheat field and the stalks waved and sparkled with the flames like magic wands. A thick cloud of smoke billowed across the field. Thomas wrinkled his nose.

Katherine looked into the inferno and frowned. Carrie lived in there.

Carrie was her best friend.

Thomas sat down beside her. I’m sorry. He looked into the stars. A meteor flashed across the sky and burned up in the atmosphere.

Katherine pulled from under his arm and stood. Come on, let’s walk. She grabbed Thomas’s hand and yanked him to his feet.

How much longer, do you think? he asked.

It's about an hour on my bike. Walking? More than two.

They started down the road, holding hands.

I hope Mom’s okay, Thomas said.

Katherine looked up. Do you think planes are coming down everywhere?

I can’t believe that. She’s gotta be all right.

Katherine stopped. Did you see that?

What?

Lights. In front of us.

Thomas peered down the road. Halogen headlights pierced the blackness and then vanished.

A vehicle. A new one.

Katherine glanced at the forest. We should hide. Who knows who it is.

Yeah, remember those riots in London? People are nuts.

Katherine dashed to the curb. Come on. She cut through the grass and vanished into the trees.

Thomas stumbled into the ditch and jogged through waist high grass. He ducked behind a tree, alongside Katherine, and peered down the road into black. His stomach panged. After years of cowering from his dad and Michael’s gang, he figured he’d be used to hiding, but his fear lurked in the shadows, pouncing at every moment of weakness. His hands started to shake and he gripped the tree, squeezed his eyes tight and rested his forehead against the rough bark.

They might see us, Katherine whispered.

Thomas opened his eyes. The vehicle was half a mile away; from the height of the headlights, it was a truck. What if it’s someone we know?

Katherine crouched. What if it’s not?

It’s new. A Chevy, I think.

Katherine shielded her eyes with her hand. How can you tell?

The truck was three hundred feet away. Design. Thomas stood up. Hey, I think it’s an Avalanche.

You can’t be sure.

Thomas bounced on his toes. Balls! It is. It’s Geoff. He bounded around the tree and streaked towards the road.

Thomas!

Come on. I bet Michael and Chris are with him.

Thomas ran to the roadside and waved his arms. The truck slowed and stopped. Squinting, he peered under his arm against the glare of the headlights. Hello?

The passenger door opened. Thomas?

Christopher! Katherine yelled. She sprinted onto the road and into his arms.

Michael stumbled out behind Chris and Geoff hopped out from the driver’s side. Michael and Chris had been adopted to Geoff and Claire when they were babies, to protect them from their uncle, Robert Cain. One of Robert’s henchmen killed their adoptive mom. Now they live with their birth parents, Jane and Greg, and their adoptive dad, Geoff.

Geoff ran to Thomas and gave him a bear hug. You okay?

Thomas hugged him back. Yeah, we’re okay. But we don’t know where our mom is. She’s flying home tonight.

Geoff looked across the wheat field at the burning mass. His brown eyes looked black in the night and the flames glittered in them.

What the heck happened? Geoff asked.

A plane crashed, Katherine said.

Must have been a big one, Michael said.

Yeah, a jet.

737, Thomas said.

Michael and Chris gasped.

Geoff turned to them. A 737? My God, how?

Katherine turned to Michael. Her face hardened and her blue eyes flared. This was in your premonition, wasn’t it?

Michael’s eyes grew wide. Uh … I.

She grabbed his jacket and pulled him forward. Just stop it! You said planes fell from the sky. What about my mom? All planes? Or just this one?

Michael covered her fists with his hands. I’m sure your mom is fine. I saw planes crashing but, but, look, I have no idea how many. There’s no way they could all come down.

Katherine placed her face inches from Michael’s nose. What about Thomas?

Michael flinched. I … I.

You said something would happen to him!

Katherine, I don’t know …

Not good enough! Tell me! What happens to Thomas? I need to protect him. How? You must know! Chris walked to her and put his hand on her back. She pushed him away and grabbed Michael’s shirt. What happens to Thomas? she whispered.

Katherine, believe me, if I knew I’d tell you. The vision didn’t make sense. Something’s gonna come for him.

Something?

I don’t know. It was like a light, only real bright. We just have to stay near him.

Michael glanced at Thomas like he was pleading for help. What I saw made no sense. I can’t even describe it. But we have to stay close to him, okay?

Geoff placed his arm around Thomas’s shoulders. Look, no one leaves Thomas alone. Not anywhere. Not even when he goes to the bathroom. We’re upset and tired. He glanced at Thomas and Katherine. You’ve had a tough night. Let’s take you home and have a cup of tea. Katherine, when does your mom land?

Eight.

Geoff reached out and pulled her into a hug. It’s okay, Katherine. She’s fine. I’m sure. I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning. Okay?

Katherine wiped her eyes. Okay.

A stream of emergency vehicle lights flashed red and blue