Jason The Juggernaut Series

Timothy Caraway

Description

The big man tried another tactic, which was a mistake. He smiled. His top teeth were filed to fine points... Jason made the mistake of trying to grab for the can of mace in his pocket. The man hit him hard with a body slam that sent the little can of pressurized irritants flying into the woods and Jason falling to his back. As the backwoods warrior stepped in to grab Jason again, Jason kicked hard to the inside of the knee, throwing the man down again. Both man and boy regained their feet at the same time, and the man again charged. Had Jason been fighting as the large muscular man he was only a few days ago, he would have had no trouble throwing the charging barbarian, but he had to remind himself to fight as a kid would against someone over three times his weight...

Informations

• Publié par: Book Venture Publishing LLC
• Date de parution: 09 octobre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781641663687
• Langue: English

Extrait

Copyright © 2018 by Timothy Caraway.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
 
BookVenture Publishing LLC 1000 Country Lane Ste 300
Ishpeming MI 49849 www.bookventure.com
Hotline:
1(877) 276-9751
Fax:
1(877) 864-1686
 
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address above.
 
Printed in the United States of America.
 
Library of Congress Control Number
2018955037
ISBN-13:
Softcover
978-1-64166-367-0
Pdf
978-1-64166-368-7
ePub
978-1-64166-369-4
Kindle
978-1-64166-370-0
 
Rev. date: 07/24/2018
Contents
Acknowledgments  
Prologue  
Climbing Jacob’s Ladder  
Born Again  
Living Legends  
The First Human Encounter  
Deologue 1  
Speaking in Strange Tongues  
There Are No Accidents  
Arrow Practice  
Deologue 2  
Hunted  
Bird Feed  
The East Fort  
The Black Blade  
Deologue 3  
The Prophecy in Full  
The Garden Secret  
Offensive Clothing  
The Champion Fights  
The Mysterious Swordsman  
Champion of Children  
Deologue 4  
The Challenge of the Princess  
Visitors in the Night  
The Message of the Trees  
Chi Master  
Oh Sting, Where Is Thy Death?  
Deologue 5  
The Secret Room  
Assassin’s Honor  
Sledding Party  
Skiing Adventure  
The Crooked Little Stick  
Who’s the Master?  
The Demon Contract  
Eye of a Goddess  
Transport by Troll-y  
The Dragon  
Thirteen Statues of Blood  
Deologue 6  
Battle Cry  
The Monster Mash  
Deologue 7  
The Lord’s Army  
The Portal Visitors  
Dark Magic  
A Leap into the Abyss  
Ninja Angels  
Deologue 8  

Acknowledgments  
I greatly appreciate the help of friends and family who provided critiques, suggestions and inspiration in developing this book. I especially appreciate Scott Crockett has been a good enough friend to tell me when something stinks and all of his efforts to set me straight. I also appreciate the patience of my wife Kelly and the numerous times she has helped to edit this work and Hannah Cross, my niece, who helped with the illustrations.
Through all of this, my part was the least and the most fun since I merely wrote as inspiration struck. And to the one divine being for which nothing is impossible, my deepest thanks.



Prologue  
Tracking a wounded boar is a dangerous job, as the boar could charge from the underbrush at any moment. His initial shot was good, but long, and the arrow must not have penetrated deep enough. The blood trail was thin and spotty. Armed with a light hunting bow and a short spear, his stride showed confidence he could handle any charge, given enough time to face it.
However, this hunt was leading him into unfamiliar territory. The boar had run toward a mountain valley where Barex had never been. In his own territory, he knew the places to avoid— places of magic or haunted by a spirit or even the area around the cracks in the ground where certain monsters dwelt. But here, a misstep or moment of inattentiveness could spell instant doom.
Because of the extreme danger, he was tempted to let the pig go, but this was a spring hunt after a sparse winter, and game was scarce. His family and tribe needed meat, and this pig was a prize to be pursued. The nights were still cold, and snow lingered in the high country; he hoped to get his kill, then head home before dark. If he could make it back to his normal hunting grounds, he could even travel throughout the night.
The spore led him atop a ridge, and he knew he was getting close, for he could hear an occasional labored grunt. The pig was tiring and would soon drop. He paused at the top of the ridge, taking in the late afternoon view of the valley and mentally mapping the mountains before him. He looked for anything unusual that might indicate habitations or lairs of more intelligent creatures, such as smoke or cleared areas that should not be there.
Seeing none, he started down the slope. Weaving around the boulder-strewn trees, clumps of brush, an occasional patch of snow, he followed the course of the pig. The cool smell of moisture indicated a stream nearby.
He paused for a moment to study the pig’s path through some snow. Suddenly, with a wild squeal, the pig charged out of some brush from the side, its eyes full of avarice and hate. It was a medium-sized boar, but still, its three-inch tusks were enough to do him damage.
He stumbled as he swung his spear around, falling to one knee; it was not necessarily a bad move, since this allowed him to jam the butt end of the spear into the ground to meet the force of the charge. His spear was not a boar spear, which are designed with prongs to keep a large pig or bear from running the spear through its body as it pushed to get at its sole objective of tearing apart the hunter. It was simply a straight spear, light and streamlined enough to be easily thrown.
The pig, however, tired from loss of blood, fell over before the spear penetrated deeply into its chest. He thanked the gods he was not hurt, but checking the sky, realized it was later than he would have liked. It was evident now that he would have to spend the approaching night in the woods. Again, he entreated the gods for protection from the unknown. Not that the gods ever listened much, but Barex tried to keep on their good side, just in case.
He gutted the carcass but did not butcher it further. Being a strong man, he lifted what remained of the animal around both shoulders, heedless of the blood that smeared him, and walked back up the hill.
He rested at the top and surveyed his surroundings again. The waning sun made dark shadows in the valleys, and he felt reluctant to spend the night down in those dark areas where he may not be able to see anything stalking him. Instead, he made a fireless camp at the base of a tree and sat back against the trunk, chewing some jerky he carried. He laid the pig beside him for additional warmth and gathered his sparse fur jacket around him to ward off the chill of the evening.
Dozing off and on throughout the night, alert for unusual sounds, he was suddenly awakened by a distant crack of thunder. At least, it sounded like thunder, coming from the direction of the mountainous valley to the east. He rose to look, and his eyes were met by a brilliant glow. Although a great distance away, it looked like the sun setting on the ground, except the light had a strange, silver color to it.
The thunder continued to rumble, accentuated by explosive cracks as he watched the light increase in brilliance, then slowly wane. After the light and noise disappeared, he could still make out a reddish glow that lingered for some time. Wisps of white smoke or steam rose from the area.
He had seen magical lights before, and certain creatures could produce a dim glowing light, but what he just witnessed was a scale of power he had never seen before. What did it mean? Was it a sign from a god? It was an omen for sure, but was it for good or ill? Was this something he was meant to see?
These thoughts troubled him so much he knew it was no use trying to sleep, so he gathered his weapons and carcass and started into the night toward home. The village elders would surely know what this meant. If not, then the witch doctor Krundor would know, though all the tribes avoided him if they could, for he was evil despite his great knowledge and would demand a large payment.
A chill of fear crept up his spine, and he had a premonition…a premonition of change.

Climbing Jacob’s Ladder  
“Let me see your license and registration, please,” the New Mexico police officer said to the large aging man in the driver’s seat of a rickety old pickup truck. The man obliged and waited patiently as the officer went through the registration. “The reason I stopped you, Mr. Bristol, is because your license plate is about to fall off…Bristol, Jason Bristol. Jason the Juggernaut Bristol?”
“Yes, Officer, that’s me,” Jason replied. He did not consider “the juggernaut” the greatest of honors, because in mythology it was a sinister, nearly unstoppable monster; but that did not matter to those who had crudely dubbed him the nickname.
The patrolman suddenly became animated, his breath misting in the cool fall air. “I have seen every one of your fight videos that went viral on the Internet. You were great!”
Jason shrugged. He and his family had participated in a year- long house-swapping deal, exchanging their home in Wasilla, Alaska, for a small place in a suburb of Los Angeles. As an independent martial arts instructor, he had opened a dojo in a community where several martial art schools already exist