World of Dawn: The Great Reach

By Shawn Gale

Finding a way home to Earth has proven elusive for the boys and girls of Halton House. Now, in the Women of the North's alpine village, they believe they've made it. They soon learn, though, it won't be as easy as they've been led to believe.

With foes around every corner and One Who Sees All's bounty hunters on the stalk, the group's mettle is put to the ultimate test. And when a people need help, they're faced with yet another dilemma. One that may kill them.

The time is nearly at hand. A convergence of unimaginable forces are about to collide. And the truth of World of Dawn will soon be revealed.

Continue the adventure in the third installment of World of Dawn. A coming-of-age story in which a journey to find a way home becomes a quest to save a world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796046090

Shawn Gale

Shawn Gale writes on Canada’s West Coast. He is a graduate of the Fraser Valley Writers School, where he earned a Master’s diploma. He graduated from Humber Colleges School for Writers with a Letter of Distinction. He completed a Bachelor of Arts degree in Creative Writing at Bircham International University. He was a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison’s Creative Writing department from 2014-2017, where he earned two certificates in screenwriting. His stories have been published in anthologies and periodicals in the US and Canada. He is the author of the acclaimed, award-nominated story collection The Stories That Make Us. He is also the author of the critically-acclaimed YA fantasy series World of Dawn. He is a member of Burnaby Writers Society and The Writers’ Union of Canada https://www.writersunion.ca/member/shawn-gale.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

South Pacific Ocean—July 2, 1937

The morning sky is blue and cloudless in every direction. The Lockheed Electra’s twin engines sound crisp and lusty. Below, the azure ocean is undulating. The sun beams through the cockpit windshield, and would be blinding if it weren’t for Amelia’s dark aviator glasses. She couldn’t wish for better flying weather.

According to the Lear compass, they’re dead on east, the direction of their next destination, Howland Island, where they will stop to refuel. Freddy hasn’t spoken for some time. Just when she thinks he might’ve nodded off, he reaches out and taps the right engine’s oil pressure gauge with his fingertips. Shaking his head the way he does when dissatisfied, he taps it again more forcefully.

There’s condensation in the instrument panel, he says.

Bound to be some, she says. Always is on these long flights.

Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Oh, Freddy, you’ve been grumpy since we left Lae yesterday. There’s no better plane for the job—you said so yourself. Stop being a worry wart.

He taps the gauge again. He slowly leans back in his seat. I never asked, did you receive a message from George?

Her skin tingles. She smiles, remembering the sweet, lovely words of her husband George’s telegraph: You are my world. Without you I do not exist. Come home safely so we can start our family. Her smile broadens, and she’s flush with joy and love. The baby growing in her will be a surprise her husband will never forget. She says, There always is—you know that. He worries more than you do.

I’d worry more than me, too, if my wife was flying across the Pacific … especially with such a handsome chap as myself.

She shoves him playfully in the arm, and they both laugh.

They sit silently, savoring the moment. The only sounds are the whir of props, wind riffling over the wings and fuselage.

Oh, look, ten o’clock, she says, pointing down to the ocean on her left.

Freddy rises up out of his seat to get a better look.

Far below a pod of whales has breached the surface. Their blowholes erupt with mist as they head in a westerly direction.

Blues, I think, he says. Quite common in this region.

Do you think they see us way up here? says Amelia teasingly.

Why, how could they miss us, darling? After all, the entire world is watching—both man and animal.

Don’t forget birds, she says.

You know what I mean, he says. Birds are covered under animals.

Actually, no they’re not.

You’re screwing with me, right?

Yes, I am.

They watch the pod until they pass by, and again the ocean resumes its unbroken undulations. It’s serene, beautiful, she thinks. Long ago, she recognized that it wasn’t only the act of flying itself that brought her a sense of freedom but also looking down on Earth from this great, godly height. The green forests, golden plains, craggy and snow-capped mountains, and wave after wave after wave. Majestic and primordial sights seen from aloft by so few. All of it evoking a bliss she couldn’t live without.

Growing up in Atchison, Kansas, she’d been enthralled by birds gracefully soaring through the air, circling high above. She got her first taste of flight when she launched off a ramp secured on the family toolshed. Although bruised and beat up, she loved the sensation of exhilaration. Years later, when Frank Hawks took her for a ten-minute flight, she just knew she had to fly, or her life wouldn’t be worth the dirt off her back porch. The consequences of a wasted life were terrifying: not being able to do what she so desperately wanted to do—fly like a bird—what she felt utterly compelled to do. Being a woman only added to the obstacles she faced trying to be taken seriously in a bold, new undertaking dominated by men, but she’d managed, she’d persisted. And now she’s in midst of flying her Lockheed over the Pacific to accomplish yet another daunting feat—round-the-world flight. She couldn’t have fathomed this ever happening all those years ago when she first laid eyes on the picture of Orville Wright flying the Flyer.

Only half hour of fuel left, says Freddy. He glances down at their charts. "We should be close to Howland. Try to raise the Itasca again."

She reads her watch: 7:40am. She lifts the radio, presses send, and speaks: "Coast Guard Itasca, this is KHAQQ. Copy, over?"

She waits ten seconds, listening to crackly static, and then repeats, "Coast Guard Itasca, this KHAQQ from Lae to Howland Island. Copy, over?"

There is no reply, just more static.

Ah, this thing’s been all problems, said Freddy.

Amelia continues on the radio: We must be near you, but cannot see you—gas is running low. Have been unable to reach you by radio. We’re flying at 1,000 feet.

Something ahead catches her attention. What is that? she says to Freddy. She blinks a few times to make sure her eyes aren’t deceiving her. A dense gray cloud has appeared out of nowhere, moving in every direction. A peculiar cloud, the color of polished steel. It blots out more and more of the sun.

The radio gives an ear-splitting squeal. She says, "Itasca, Itasca—do you copy, over?" Only more squealing. She hangs it up, removes her sunglasses, and takes the control wheel firmly with both hands.

Jesus, that’s one strange cloud, says Freddy, eyebrows arching nervously.

Her heart quickens as the cloud gains speed, perversely billowing as if hungry to engulf the entire sky. And still neither Howland Island nor the Itasca are below them.

Within seconds, as far as the eye can see, the cloud has stretched north and south on the horizon. No blue remains, only an odd twilight-like darkness.

Violent turbulence buffet the plane.

I’ve never seen … anything like this, she whispers with a mix of awe and fear.

Makes two of us, he says.

The cloud starts to billow faster and faster toward them, dropping to the ocean’s surface like a massive steely curtain. Bolts of lightning arc down to the water, striking with an explosion of sparks—pow, pow, pow—like a cannonade. There’s another and then another in rapid succession, each one getting louder, closer. The Lockheed shudders, jostling Amelia and Freddy in their seats. Amelia tightens her grip more on the controls. The engines begin sputtering, coughing black smoke.

She’s breathless as sweat runs into her eyes. This is bad, she thinks, very bad. Her husband’s words flash in her mind: ‘… come home safely so we can start are family.’

It’s surrounding us, says Freddy, turning back in his seat to get a look behind them. "No, it has surrounded us."

Freddy doesn’t need to say any more. There’ll be no escaping the bizarre, ominous storm that’s engulfed them. He leans over, pecks her on the cheek, and sits back to tighten his belt. She mutters a prayer. She wants to touch her belly, to assure her baby that everything is okay. Instead, she takes a deep breath and twists her hands on the controls.

There’s only one option. They’ll need to fly through it.

CHAPTER 1

World of Dawn—2017?

My entire body was sore. I kept my eyes shut, hoping and wishing that when I opened them I’d be back home on Earth. It didn’t matter where—Whispering Cedars, Halton House, or juvenile detention. Anywhere. I wanted to see a clock, a movie poster, a TV or a laptop, a Walmart, a Starbucks. Anything, even a McDonalds. But just like the dozen other times I’d had this delusional hope, the cold, hard reality of our situation crushed me like a 100 ton slab of concrete. And, boy, did it hurt something fierce.

Sighing, I knew where I was. The Women of the North’s village, high in the mountains, on a different world, in a different solar system, and possibly in a different galaxy than the Milky Way. This last part, the galaxy thing, we were unsure of since Anna said there were possibly hundreds of billions of planets like Earth in the Milky Way alone. Then she said there were possibly gazillions of Earth-like planets in the hundreds of billions of galaxies in the wider universe. I didn’t know where she got these big numbers from, but she spoke with conviction, the way she did when she was sure.

I opened my eyes and inhaled deeply a few times, a cedar aroma twitching my nose. I stretched my arms back and yawned. Small birds were chirping, twittering, and fluttering outside. Tiny blades of light penetrated the shuttered window. Above me, common pole rafters ran from the roof’s ridge down to the walls. They were covered in dense thatch. The little cottage wasn’t much different than the one we’d stayed in at Ambrose’s a week ago. A week that seemed like a distant memory now, with all the craziness that’d went on since then. I could make out voices talking somewhere outside, a hammering noise, and animal sounds—cockles, bleats, and a rooster’s crow.

Across the room, Simon’s bed lay empty. His fur had been cast off on the floor, and he was nowhere to be seen. The thatch on the roof cracked and snapped. Something was moving around up there. Then I heard footsteps coming toward the cabin. The door flung open, and Bandu’s brilliance burst inside. A silhouette stood in the doorway, tall and rangy. Unmistakable. One I couldn’t miss anywhere.

"Oh, yeah, you ain’t gonna believe this place, said Colby way too excitedly for this early in my morning. You need to get up, bro. Check this out! Like right now. I’m talking right, right now."

Where’s everyone? I said, swinging my legs out of bed.

Wait till you see, and let me say they do it big in Women of the North. I mean, real big. This place’s like one of those granola-head hippie communes—minus the dudes of course. Some of these chicks fly for granola heads too—but I’m thinking they got hairy legs. Whatcha think?

Like Italians, I said.

Yeah, like Italians, just like Italians.

It’s called Vinandia, I said. They told us last night, remember? Where’s the others?

He sucked his teeth and waved a hand at me like I was making a big deal out of nothing. Yeah, yeah, get your ass outta the fart sac! Come on, check this out.

I rolled my neck a few times, trying to loosen up the stiffness. Ouch. Wincing, I gingerly touched the stitches on the back of my head.

My Tommy briefs were ripped, stained, and in desperate need of replacement, but I just couldn’t get my head around the free-bag thing Colby and Simon had already embraced. I pulled on my hide pants and shirt, and then moccasins. For a second, I almost reached for my sabre leaning against a stool, but only for a second. There was no need here.

Since we’d arrived, my gut had been telling me things were okay. It was an instinct that I’d been trusting more and more since we landed on World of Dawn. Just like my early-warning system—the medicine pouch around my neck—it hadn’t steered me wrong yet. I instinctively touched the pouch. Then I followed Colby into Bandu’s warm radiance.

CHAPTER 2

The village seemed a lot different in daylight after a good night sleep under my belt. Cottages dotted the valley, their exterior daub white, each with a cobble-stone chimney poking from a thatched roof. They sort of looked like wild mushrooms. Networks of worn trails ran throughout the village, and everywhere villagers walked about. Here and there were chickens clucking and pecking at insects. Dappled goats were sniffing, grazing, and climbing on things. There was a bahhhhing behind me. I turned to find two billy goats staring down from our cottage’s roof.

That’s what I heard moving around, I said.

Yeah, man, like a zoo around here, said Colby.

The billy goats simultaneously tilted their heads as if baffled by my appearance, as if I was the odd thing in this encounter, and not goats on the roof.

A big rooster emerged from between two cottages. He led his harem with a strut, six hens and four chirpy chicks. His beady eyes fixed on me. He drummed his chest, his red comb quivering, and then he crowed angrily, beat his wings, and charged me. I side-stepped like a matador right before he could collide with my leg. Little feathers swirled around in the alpine breeze. Thwarted, the rooster ran off, his harem clucking raucously as they followed.

Beats them vultures—remember those things? said Colby.

A shiver ran down my back. How could I forget?

Let’s go, he said, backhanding my shoulder. They got critters all over the place. Just ignore them, that’s what I do. Shit, and if we get the munchies up in here we got ourselves some K—F—C! You know what I’m saying. I say munchies ’cause someone blazing herb last night. Getting high as a kite.

Really?

Yeah, man—probably got fields everywhere, just like up in Canada.

You’re a total nut-job, I said. You know that, right?

Come on, he said, slapping my shoulder. Let’s roll—pun intended.

We began hiking along a windy trail running through the heart of the village. My tight, stiff body felt as though it’d been racked between two horses. Every step aggravated my head and bad knee. There was no doubt about it, I was pretty beat-up.

The villagers we passed were all women. They all wore similar clothes—gray wool tunic and long dress, brown leather shoes—and seemed busy with a task or chore. Some carried hoes and rakes, others pails and baskets of fruits and vegetables. One woman cradled a red fox kit to her chest like a baby, while another led a bear cub on a leash. They paid little attention to us—a nod here, a little wave there. Nothing more.

Vines crawled up cottages. Colorful wild flowers sprouted from almost every nook and cranny. The more we hiked, the more surprised I was by just how many Women of the North there were. They were of all ages, too, from children to the elderly. They were lean and healthy, alert and strong, and beautiful, at least the ones that I was seeing. How many were there? Were they all from Earth? And if so, from when and where? Over the last week, I’d learned that the rules of time and space were out the window on World of Dawn.

A minute later we arrived at a waterfall that cascaded into a small pool from which a stream carried on down the mountainside. On the far side, there was a shed with a gray wooden paddlewheel rotating creakily in the current. Being in an open area, it was easier to make out our surroundings, which had been impossible the night before. What lay before me was truly awe-inspiring, like something out of a fairy-tale or Disney movie.

A few miles up the mountainside was a timberline of dark spruce. Higher up still, a range of craggy, snowy peaks rose into the sky. One stood taller than the others. Its shark-fin peak speared into the clouds. What was beyond it? I had no idea. Below us, villagers worked amid tidy garden rows. There were pastures rife with cone-shaped hay piles. In one of them, I could see our thunder horses grazing contently, Starla’s mottled tan and white coat shimmering. Far below us, the steep trail we’d hiked up to reach the village disappeared into trees. And in the distance, the Great Sands stretched as far as the eye could see. It was hard to believe we’d been there just yesterday, hard to believe we’d almost been killed, hard to believe we’d killed others. And it was harder to believe that it’d been a place that we’d made better than when we’d found it.

I took in the ridge where Bigfoot stood last night, his enormous silhouette all we saw.

Any sign of the big guy? I said.

Elizabeth says he won’t show himself, said Colby. Said he don’t like people.

There was a shrill cry above. A bird was leisurely riding the updraft—Hoekstra’s falcon Storm, who’d followed us into the mountains. I rubbed the falcon talon hanging around my neck next to the medicine pouch.

She been flying around all morning, said Colby. Probably still hungry.

I doubt it after her meal the other day, I said. "Eyeball du jour."

Colby chuckled. That’s some funny stuff. Yo, you think Thorak be dead?

Who knows? Look, she’s diving, I said, pointing.

Storm disappeared behind a cottage. When she rose a moment later, she had a chick in her talons.

H’m, well, I guess she is still hungry, I said. I looked around guiltily. Maybe it’s best if we don’t say anything.

Colby shrugged. Come on, let’s roll. Oh, trust me, you gonna love this. He patted me on the back. We almost there.

Moving through the village, it was now obvious that the layout had been well planned. The entire place was this strange fusion of human, animal, and plant. Everything seemed chaotic yet harmonious, like some primitive dance I was witnessing for the first time, a dance that seemed perfectly choreographed. From the sheds and cottages, to the paths and gardens, and to the way the women went about their tasks. Even the goats and chickens managed to stay away from everyone’s busy feet as if sticking to their own memorized routes.

We rounded a cottage on the outskirts of the village. There, our friends bathed in a bubbly hot spring, while the woman who’d greeted us the night before, Elizabeth, sat on a flat stone enjoying Bandu’s rays. Our friends splashed and bounced playfully in the water and steam, except for Tabby and Glooscap. They were near a rock grotto, solely focused on each other. It seemed a bit more every day.

Everyone was so preoccupied, they didn’t notice our approach. The mood was uplifting; the brutal violence and death from a mere twenty-four hours ago pushed aside, at least for the moment.

What are you waiting for, Tanner? said Elizabeth. At that, everyone turned to us.

"About time! Come on, it’s so warm," said Anna, and waved me onward.

Oh, look, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake, said Simon.

Colby kicked off his snakeskin boots. He couldn’t peel off his clothes fast enough, a combo of Sawnay hides and Denoon wraps, right down to his birthday suit. Everyone shouted in surprise, turning away.

You’re such a weirdo, yelled Tabby.

What, ya’ll know I ain’t got no underwear, said Colby, standing naked, not remotely embarrassed. One of those slavers stole it. He stretched his arms toward Bandu and then ran and dove into the hot spring.

Oh, my God, said Anna, back still turned. Is he in the water yet?

Relax—like you never seen a naked dude before, said Colby.

Ambrose waded into shore. His rust-coloured long-johns clung to his lanky body like wet fur, making him look scarecrow thin and fragile.

I undressed down to my ratty Tommy briefs, my face growing warm. Then I quickly waded into the hot spring. As I went farther out, natural vents bubbled around me like hot-tub jets. Anna splashed me. I splashed her face. Colby and Simon splashed each other. Then we all turned on one another, splashing, laughing, and carrying on like normal teenagers.

Bet this’s the last thing you thought you’d wake up to, said Anna, lazily swimming toward me.

I was betting on something else, I said, lifting my eyebrows.

Eyes narrowing flirtily, she said, Is that so? then she bobbed under. She burst out and spouted water in my face.

Hey, I said, chopping the surface.

Yo, remember what I said at the sewer chute? said Colby. You know, how I said I need a shower and wouldn’t get one ’til we got home?

I figure this is the next best thing, I said.

Let me see your stitches, said Anna, circling behind me. She examined them. Good, Ambrose knows what he’s doing. And that ointment Kodee gave us seemed to speed up the healing process.

Like a Polysporin?

I think it’s better.

What’re you saying? I’m gonna survive, I said.

She came around to the front, half swimming. I wonder sometimes, Tanner. Like Colby said you’re a Timex or Gumby.

You forgot about cat with nine lives, said Colby. But the way he’s blowing through them, now he’s down to two and a half.

I don’t want to leave anytime soon, said Simon, doing a backstroke. Let’s just stay here.

That would be nice, I thought, to stay there. Forget about all that’d happened—the loss, the pain, the grief, the betrayal, the slavery, the evil, all the rest of the crazy shit. Forget about the journey home, what we might need to still do, though I couldn’t imagine anything topping what we’d already been through. If we really wanted to, could we stay? Could we really? Could we let everything go? At times, I felt like a nobody on Earth, that world I’d walked on for seventeen years. My dad was gone. My mom was dead. But here, on this world, I was a somebody. We all were. We’d faced adversity and overcome it. We’d saved lives, made a difference like those heroes I’d grown up following in books and movies all my life. Was anyone else having similar types of thoughts and feelings? Probably not. After all, they had family and friends and lives to go back to, unlike me. As sad as it sounded, all that mattered in my life was in a twenty foot radius of me right then and there.

I’d made a vow to Conroy though, to take care of Anna and Tabby, do my best to lead the others, and find a way home. Even if I wanted to stay for personal reasons, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I had a duty, a responsibility that I would never forego no matter how safe and comfortable I felt, no matter how tough the road ahead got, and no matter how crummy my life was back on Earth. And trust me—it’d been crummy for a long, long while.

No, I couldn’t, we couldn’t. Just like Glooscap couldn’t let his home go, his people, his family and friends, and their lifeblood Cootamain. From his ancestors to future generations, everyone was depending on him to stop whatever was poisoning Cootamain.

Thinking about Glooscap, I felt a sense of hopelessness at the task before our friend. The rest of us had reached our destination— the Women of the North who could open stargates to Earth, back to our home. That meant Glooscap would be going it alone from here on out.

Colby slapped me on the back. Hey, you doing that thing you do when you just thinking? Man, you get right spacey eyed, like your brain gone all numb or something.

Hey, Earth to Tanner, said Anna, snapping her fingers. What were you doing?

We can’t do this, I said, suddenly feeling restless. I mean, we need to go.

Relax. We just got here—this is it! We made it! said Simon, voice triumphant. Women of the North, right guys?

R and R is good for morale, said Ambrose, drying himself off on shore. Soon enough we’ll be moving again, and from what Elizabeth tells me, the next leg might be the most difficult.

What? said Anna.

Yeah, what’d you just say? said Tabby, wading toward the shore with Glooscap.

‘The next leg’? As in ‘the next leg’ of a trip? I said, feeling confused.

Yeah, whatcha mean? said Colby. We here now. Like Simon said, ‘this is it!’ One of these amazing women here gonna open a stargate and voila—one way trip home, baby, like you said.

A trip home is possible, but it is across the Great Reach where our powers can open stargates, said Elizabeth unapologetically.

I gave a heavy sigh. Simon facepalmed, and Colby stared at her with the dumbest look, like her words were hopelessly jumbled in his brain. Then he punched the water, spun around, and waded away. Knew this was a wild-goose chase—what did I say? What did I say? he yelled over his shoulder.

Okay, so what now then? said Tabby, brushing her wet bangs aside.

Means we need to go farther—that’s what it means, said Anna. "Aghhh—I hate this … I can’t believe it. Can’t frigging believe it?"

Well I can, said Colby. "Been like this since day one—

BULLSHIT!"

It felt like someone was dangling a carrot in our faces to keep us moving.

I will take you myself, said Elizabeth. Over the Drescian Mountains.

Those? said Tabby, looking up at the mountaintops.

Everyone gazed silently at the shark-fin peak whose top was lost in heavy white clouds.

The group’s mood slumped, made that much worse because we’d been so happy moments ago. The rug had been yanked from under our feet, yet again. A rollercoaster ride, yet again.

Did you say ‘Great Reach’? I said. We just crossed the Great Sands. Who’s naming these places?

When can go? said Simon grudgingly. I noticed the fingertips of his right hand were blacker than yesterday.

Can we leave immediately? said Ambrose.

Yes, at dawn, said Elizabeth.

How many days will it take? I said. I’d