Petrified Forest
Monster Hunters
by
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Divide and conquer.
Drew quieted his mind and steadied his breathing, then reached out with The Knowing. He hoped that something as familiar as fear would be revealed by an obvious emotional tag, something he could identify and latch onto. Whether Drew could grapple with the man’s fear and then take control, well, that was another matter.
Ignore everything but the emotions of the superstitious man.
All at once the jungle around him disappeared as though a dark shroud had been pulled over the trees, the bushes, and the rocks. The flames of the campfire turned pale, a stain of gray light in a void of utter darkness. The humid air, alive with the droning of insects, thickened, and the sound trailed away as though disappearing down a funnel. Beneath it all, a faint pounding like the beat of a distant bass drum floated on the wind.
The pounding quickened, closer now, each beat echoing. Bump – bump, bump – bump, bump – bump. The beats grew more intense until at last the sound resonated deep inside his head. A heart beat, racing faster and faster, until the beats joined in one continuous stream.
Diaz was aware of a presence invading his mind. The intrusion into his emotions whipped him into a state of panic.
But Drew had to delve further still.
Suddenly, he found himself inside a vortex of raw emotions. All around him whirled the complexity of the human mind with emotions suspended like chaff inside a cyclone. Emotions whizzed like bullets past his consciousness, but he couldn’t pull them to the center as he had the panther’s.
Diaz tore at his hair and released a terrible scream.
Lazaro grabbed the front of Diaz’s shirt and shouted. “Shut up, weakling.” A few gold coins slipped through his fingers and pinged on the ground.
“Watch it,”
“Quetzalcoatl,” Diaz yelled. “Quetzalcoatl!”
Lazaro slapped Diaz across the face propelling him backward against the wall. His head hit the rock and he staggered forward, mumbling something incomprehensible.
Thumping rose above the emotional storm, low and distant at first, but quickly growing into a deafening roar. Drew brought his hands to his ears, but it didn’t help. The sound was his own heartbeat racing to match pace with Diaz. A colossal wave of anxiety crashed over him and his mind tumbled beneath its force like a riderless surfboard churning in the surf. Fear from the stuff of nightmares, raw and unforgiving, without form or explanation, and somehow through the terror Drew realized that this fear was a shared emotion.
He struggled to remain in the center of the cyclone even as it sought to expel him, but his will buckled. With supreme mental effort he heaved one last javelin of fear at Diaz before being forced out. For a second, Drew felt as though he were falling through space, but gradually the sensation ended and his vision cleared. The sound of the crackling fire returned to the camp. He huddled against the mossy boulder, shivering in cold sweat.
A horrible scream rose above the treetops as Diaz charged into the jungle, knocking Lazaro aside and scattering orange coals from the fire.
“Grab him,”
Lazaro fell backward and slammed to the ground. More coins escaped his grasp, and many glittering sparkles fell near the fire. “The gold,” he shouted. “Leave Diaz and find the gold.” Lazaro jumped to his feet but never looked up, instead he scanned the ground like a hawk searching for a meal. “The light, give me the light,
“First, the gold.”
Drew sat back, panting, catching his breath, and slowing the pace of his heart. Spaz had slipped away, probably spooked. Drew wouldn’t hold it against him. He felt like running away himself, but there was nowhere to go. No sanctuary in this place.
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About the Book
Divide and conquer.
Drew quieted his mind and steadied his breathing, then reached out with The Knowing. He hoped that something as familiar as fear would be revealed by an obvious emotional tag, something he could identify and latch onto. Whether Drew could grapple with the man’s fear and then take control, well, that was another matter.
Ignore everything but the emotions of the superstitious man.
All at once the jungle around him disappeared as though a dark shroud had been pulled over the trees, the bushes, and the rocks. The flames of the campfire turned pale, a stain of gray light in a void of utter darkness. The humid air, alive with the droning of insects, thickened, and the sound trailed away as though disappearing down a funnel. Beneath it all, a faint pounding like the beat of a distant bass drum floated on the wind.
The pounding quickened, closer now, each beat echoing. Bump – bump, bump – bump, bump – bump. The beats grew more intense until at last the sound resonated deep inside his head. A heart beat, racing faster and faster, until the beats joined in one continuous stream.
Diaz was aware of a presence invading his mind. The intrusion into his emotions whipped him into a state of panic.
But Drew had to delve further still.
About the Author
James A. Farson and his wife, Holly, reside in Jacksonville, Florida, with their two sons, Matthew and Daniel, who are the main inspirations for this book series. Jim’s creativity was sparked at an early age by his own father’s gifted bedtime storytelling.