Guardians From Zxerag: The Michaelson adventure, #1

By B.M. Thoresson

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking down from where he stood he could see the trees on the left and the cliff on the right, in the middle was a path about 100 meters wide, Mike decided that if he stayed close to the trees, then he should have a clear run down the mountain, that should take him to supper time, he would then call it a day and start early the next day on the other side of the mountain.

Mike started down the mountain slope, and as he picked up speed, felt a surge of power go over him and shower him with snow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something crash into the trees. Stopping to look at what had happened. Mike could not believe his eyes, there, stuck between the trees, lay a flying saucer.

Smoke was coming from the craft and the door had come open from the crash.

Mike approached the craft very cautiously.

Mike went into the craft and saw two bodies on the floor of the craft, there was a small fire and a bit of smoke in the cabin, Mike then picked up the bodies one by one, and took them outside where he laid them on the ground. He inspected the bodies to see if they were alright, and he then went back into the cabin of the craft and using what looked like a fire extinguisher, put out the fire.

When he emerged from the craft, one of the occupants was sitting next to the other one, Mike went to him and very sheepishly asked, "Good day, are you ok?"

To Mike's surprise, the person replied, "Yes, thank you, you have just saved our lives."

His appearance was no different from that of any other human being.

The two aliens got up and brushed themselves off, and looking at Mike the leader introduced himself.

"I am Morg, and this is Alf, we come from the planet Zxerag." Morg said, "We are the guardians of Earth." Morg explained.

 

Volume 1

word count 33,940

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.M. Thoresson
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393374015

B.M. Thoresson

Hi, my name is B.M. Thoresson. I am 65 years old. Everyone has a dream. Mine was to be a successful sailor. I got injured in 2012 and was put on a pension. I woke up one morning and started to write stories. This is one of them, and I trust you will find it entertaining. find me on facebook: Brian Thoresson

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sun started to show over the mountains around the small American town, and the early morning smell of breakfast hung in the air. The town was small, and was almost as old as the hills. Being a cattle crossing in the early days when the great cattle drives started to build America. The town boomed, but with the coming of the railroad, almost became a ghost town, but survived because of the oil in the area. The town was clean and the residents took pride in keeping their houses brightly painted. There were only a couple of the old buildings remaining, as with progress the old had to make way for the new.  People were starting to move on the streets to get to their work places.

It was a very large long hall in a very old building, but the building had been kept in good condition over the years and was very clean. The hall was lit up with the bright sunlight coming through the windows, as the curtains were all tied up, to allow the most light into the room. There were paintings of animals hanging on each wall, showing that the owners were animal lovers. The rugs on the floor were Persian and depicted motifs from the sea. The doors were of a kind not found in a normal building. They were very tall, as if for very tall people. The windows were made in the same style as the doors, very tall. There was only one door situated in the middle on each side of the hall which opened into halls which led to other offices. On the floor against the side of the walls, were wooden benches with soft cushions on, so it was not too uncomfortable to sit on them.

This was the building owned by Owen and Owen Attorneys.

Sitting on a bench on the far side of the hall was a young man, over 6 feet tall, a slight tan to show he liked the outdoors, ginger hair which was cut short and combed neatly, green eyes which looked as if they were reading your mind, built like an athlete and had a smile which would melt any damsels heart. But that did not reflect the heartache he really felt. He was dressed in a dark blue double breasted suit, no tie and a very white shirt and a pair of black Italian shoes. 

His name is Mike Michaelson, it is his 21st birthday, the only living relative of Michael Mikeson, the owner of Mikeson Enterprises, also known as the ‘Diamond T’ a company with offices and factories in almost every country in the world, who along with his wife, died tragically ten years ago in a plane crash.

Mike had been invited to attend a reading of his parent’s last will and testament. Although Mike knew the contents of the will, it was just a formality. Mike had come early so as to avoid being late, due to the amount of heavy traffic that time of the morning. As he sat there, his thoughts went over the history of the family as he had read it.

Mike’s great grandfather, Mike Michaelson, was born in the Scandinavian area in 1797, where his father, Olaf Michaelson, was the king of a group of islands.

King Olaf had four sons, of which Mike was the third son. They were, Carl, Gustav, Mike, and Olaf.

In 1830, Mike Michaelson (who was married and had two children, a girl named Hilga, born in 1818, and a boy named Michael born in 1819) had an argument with his father the King. He was accused of stealing money from the Royal Bank. Mike denied the accusation. As they were arguing, young Michael came into the room to hear what the noise was about, when he saw his grandfather and father arguing, he started crying and asked them to stop, The King turned to Mike and said,

‘Get out of my land, you are no longer a prince here and take this snivelling little brat with you, and if I never see you again, it will be too soon.’ The King concluded.

Mike went home and informed his family that they had been banished out of their country of birth.

Mike sold all of his belongings, just taking clothes and some weapons with them.

So Mike took his family, and headed for America. The trip by ship was not a very pleasant one as they had storms most of the way.

They arrived in America and Mike did not know what he was going to do. He was a good carpenter, but would his skills be enough for him to survive.

On board the ship, Mike had made friends with one of the passengers who lived in America and he suggested to Mike that when he arrived in America, he should join a wagon train which was heading west and go there. There were a lot of towns coming up all over the place and there was always room for a good carpenter.

In 1832, while the family was on a wagon train travelling from the east coast to the midlands where Mike hoped to set up shop as a carpenter, they were attacked by Indians. The people on the wagon train were outnumbered, and soon they all fell one by one.

Michael was hit on the head with a sharp instrument and was knocked out, with blood all over his face, it looked as if he was dead, and everyone, except for Michael and a mule skinner were killed.

The incident was discovered by a couple of ranchers who had seen the smoke of the wagons as they burnt.

Michael was taken in by a family who owned a small ranch. Mike went to school with the other children, and when not at school, the owner taught him how to punch cows.

Michael did not like the life with the family, as they were always bickering about one thing or another.

So one morning Michael got up, got dressed and taking his few belongings got on his horse and left the ranch.

Michael was travelling along a very winding road through the mountains when he came across a man sprawled in the sand.

Michael got off his horse and approached the man with caution. He did not know what to expect, but was horrified to find that the man had apparently been bitten in the back by a snake.

Michael rolled the man over, and taking a piece of cloth which he ripped off of his shirt to clean the wound, proceeded to suck the blood out of the wound, with the hope that it would bring out the poison.

Michael had heard of this being done by some of the cowboys who passed the ranch from time to time.

So Michael kept sucking the blood until he could no longer get any blood out of the wound.

Michael cleaned the wound with some whisky which he found in the strangers saddlebag.

He made a camp and hunted for some small animals.

Michael nursed the man day and night for four days, when the stranger opened his eyes. He looked at Michael and wanted to know what had happened.

Good day, my name is Michael. I found you lying in the sand with a snake bite in the back. Michael answered.

The stranger looked at him and introduced himself. My name is John, and I am beholden to you. He said and asked, How did you get the poison out?

I sucked it out with my mouth. Michael answered and offered John some hot coffee, which he drank.

Michael, if you had let any of that poison slip down your throat, then you would have died.

Yes I know, but what the hell, I had to try something, I couldn’t just leave you there to die.

They stayed there at the camp for another couple of days before John was strong enough to get up and start moving.

Michael, I notice that you do not carry a gun?

I do not own one, and I don’t know how to use it anyway.

John went to his saddlebags and retrieved an old gun belt with two revolvers in holsters, which he gave to Michael.

He called Michael and adjusted the belt to fit comfortable.

Michael, in this land we are in, there are two kinds of people, the one who wants to help you, and the other who wants to rob you. John said and carried on. "To protect you from the ones who want to rob you, you need to know how to use a gun properly, and I will show you how.’

So John started Michael off with practising how to draw and shoot from the hip. He explained to Michael.

If you can’t get your gun out of the holster quicker than the other guy, then you will be dead.

So Michael practised from morning to dusk until John was satisfied that Michael could help himself in any situation.

John and Michael parted company. With his new found talent, Michael would offer to help a sheriff as a deputy from time to time.

But he had itchy feet, and like most in those days, wanted to see what was over the next hill.

He travelled around the country looking to help people and when he run out of money He would either punch cows for a couple of weeks or prospect a bit here and there.

Michael decided to have people call him Mike.

On his travels, Mike came across a Mexican family travelling by coach, being attacked by outlaws. Without thinking of his safety, Mike went and fought off the outlaws, getting shot several times in the process, but killing the whole gang.

Mike was taken to the nearest town where he received medical attention, but everyone thought he would die from all his wounds. He recovered and the Sheriff informed him that there was a reward for the gang and he gave Mike a substantial sum of money.

Mike