Sunday, March 19, 2017

Sneak Peek at Chapter One of The Prescience, Seventh Dimension Series, a YA Fantasy, Book 5

Seventh Dimension Series
The Prescience, a YA Fantasy, Book 5
Chapter 1

A thunderous explosion startled me as panic shredded my senses. I dropped my hands from Daniel’s neck. Marriage dreams evaporated. We might die this second after returning from Shambhala. Had we not left hell behind? Or had we arrived in Jerusalem on the brink of Armageddon? Noxious fumes blew into my face and I shielded my eyes. 
“Run!” he shouted.
Blinding light from simultaneous eruptions lit the night sky in a spectacular display of falling debre. If only these were celebratory fireworks, but they weren’t.

I stared in disbelief. My feet felt entombed in concrete. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, Jesus, not when you just told us to marry.
Daniel yanked my hand. “Shale, come on, we’ve got to find shelter.”
Seconds ticked by as I imagined my body being blown to bits from rapidly approaching missiles. 

Screeching sirens faded in and out. Swishing knives cut through the air as if they were tearing a veil, followed by loud booms that shook the ground. One after the other, they reverberated, each one getting closer. Temporary silence ensued, followed by more explosions and more thunder. Multiple alarms sounded as transformers blew across the city. I felt something burning my arms. I screamed, slapping at whatever it was.
“Ashes,” Daniel said.

I wiped off the soot. How could this be? One minute we were celebrating our first kiss, and the next we were running for our lives. I brushed my fingers through my long brown hair. I’d have to shower. Another missile swished by followed by a powerful boom.
Daniel pulled me along through almost total darkness as the scorched grass seared around us. How could he tell where to run? Smoke billowed and disorientation rattled me. Minutes later, Daniel found an enclosure that reminded me of a bus stop. The building vibrated every time a bomb fell. Was it secure or was it designed only to give a sense of safety?
.I struggled to catch my breath. “We’re going to die.”
Daniel’s brown eyes betrayed no fear. Only gentle reassurance. ”We’re in a bomb shelter.”

Daniel whispered in my ear, “I love you, Shale.”
I broke into sobs. “If only...”
Unexpectedly, out of the stillness and reprieve from death’s brutality on a persecuted people, I heard a dog bark. The sharp yelps pierced the momentary silence. From which direction were they coming? I became still to catch the words.
I clasped Daniel’s shoulders and peered into his eyes. “The dog, do you hear it?”
Daniel’s eyes met mine. “What is he saying?”
Now the sirens drowned him out. I stepped toward the shelter entrance to hear, but Daniel blocked me.

“I’m not going to let you rescue a dog. That’s crazy.”
I met Daniel’s determination with my own. “The dog needs help for an injured child.”
Daniel stared. “No, can’t be.”
I knew Daniel wanted to keep me from leaving the safety of the shelter. “We must go. We can’t stay here and do nothing.”
Daniel stepped toward the entrance. You stay here and let me check.”
“No,” I insisted. “You don’t understand dog talk. It’s my gift. I must go.”
Daniel grimaced. “Let’s hope he keeps barking or we’ll never find him.”
“The child is a girl.”
Daniel held my hand. “Watch your step.”
If only we had a light. The darkness overwhelmed me now that the transformers had blown. There wasn’t even emergency lighting. At least the bombs had stopped. The only significant light came from fires burning in the distance. Falling, shadowy embers floated from the sky. 
Careful where you step,” Daniel warned. “There could be bombs lying on the ground that didn’t explode.”

Why did he have to tell me that?
The dog barked. “Hurry, hurry. Come quickly.”
We crept closer, guided only by the dog’s barks.
“What’s he saying?” Daniel asked.
I translated, “Anybody, please, come quickly.”
In front of us, A shadowy four-legged figure that reminded me of Much-Afraid stood. I pointed. “There he is.”
When the dog saw us, he wagged his tail. “Hurry, hurry.”
As we neared, I held my hands in front of me so he could catch my scent. “We’re coming to help.”
He whimpered, hopeful enthusiasm tempered with concern.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“No, but hurry. A rare human who understands dog talk. Oh me, oh my. This is my lucky day.”
Daniel and I quickened our pace.
Another bomb screeched by. Seconds later, it exploded. The loud boom nearly broke my eardrums. Daniel reached out to embrace me.
The undeterred dog barked again. “Don’t run away. You’re too near to leave now.”
The dog took a few steps to the left and lowered his head, indicating something on the ground.
Daniel clutched my hand. Then I saw two bodies. I watched as the child stroked the bloodied body underneath her. As we neared, I could see it was a young woman with long brown hair dressed in slacks and a T-shirt. I stumbled over something as we approached. When I looked down, I saw shoes. Blood covered the woman’s feet. Small cries escaped from the young child.
I knelt down beside the distraught little girl.
“Thank God, she’s alive,” I exclaimed.
“Her mother and father aren’t,” the dog wept. “She has no one. God sent me to find someone to rescue her. Very few humans speak animal talk. You’re the ones God sent.”
Daniel didn’t understand our conversation, so I filled him in with details.
“That’s what he said?” Daniel asked.
I nodded. I stared at the child's parents. My vocal chords went dry as numbness filled my throat.
The dog barked again. “I must go rescue others. Take care of Shira. You are all she has.”
“Wait.” I reached over and stroked the dog’s head, focusing on his crusty eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You are the ones who came. God called you.”
“I understand animal speak, but I don’t know this poor child. She must have relatives.”
My eyes turned to the helpless babe. I tried to pick up the orphan, but she clung tenaciously to her dead mother.
“Mommy,” she wailed again, ignoring my attempts to help her.
“Many are called, but few are chosen,” the dog said.
His eyes reminded me of Much-Afraid.
The dog’s barking interrupted my thoughts. “I must go now. Others need my help. Take Shira with you and save her life.” Then he disappeared into the darkness.
Was that her name?
When Shira wouldn’t come with me, Daniel tried to pick up the child, but she protested.
He stopped and glanced at me. “We need to find the child’s relatives.” He walked around to the other side and searched the pockets of Shira’s father. I looked around the mother for a cell phone.
“His pockets are empty,” Daniel said.
I tapped gently on the child and spoke in Hebrew. “Sweetie, come with me. Your mother and father are sleeping. Come with me.”
The child lifted her head and focused her mournful eyes on my face. After a brief hesitation, she reached out her arms so I could pick her up. She was small and light. She couldn’t be more than three.
“Let’s get out of here,” Daniel said.
“Where should we go? Your mother’s?”
Daniel shook his head. “Jacob’s. He can hep us find her relatives."
I forgot Daniel didn’t understand dog speak. When should I tell him she had no one but us?


Look for Seventh Dimension - The Prescience 
to be available for summer vacation reading!