Throwaways: The Claus Chronicles (according to Me) - Softcover

Strahan, D. R.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1452081727 ISBN 13: 9781452081724

Publisher: AuthorHouse, 2010

Synopsis

In the city of At il there were two laws strictly enforced: Number one, it was against the law to feed the children and number two,it was against the law to leave the city. Fox, the thirteen-year-old son of the governor, had done both. When he and two friends; eight-year-old Hawk and Wolf, age twelve, were invited to visit a family compound outside the city, Fox deliberated hard and long about the situation. Breaking the law, as a loner, was one thing but when it involved others the decision was much more difficult. It brought back memories of his first time outside the city walls; the broad, unending space of earth and sky he experienced had been a shock to his well-being. It had taken him some time before the freedom of boundaries was a comfortable experience. He was afraid this unknown may be too much of an adjustment for his friends since they had never ventured further than the guard-shack steps at the city entrance. True---he and his friends were only children; numbers on the city records. If they were ever found missing, as `Throwaways' they would just be crossed off the list of city residents.

About this title

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Throwaways

The Claus Chronicles (according to me)By D. R. Strahan

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 D. R. Strahan
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-8172-4

Contents

Chapter One At il.....................................1Chapter Two Children of the Night.....................21Chapter Three The Tunnel..............................37Chapter Four The Elf..................................61Chapter Five The Camp.................................75Chapter Six The Return................................89Chapter Seven The Meeting Place.......................99Chapter Eight Home at Last............................107Chapter Nine The Raid.................................119Chapter Ten What's in a Name..........................131Chapter Eleven The Long Walk..........................141Chapter Twelve The Shadows............................157Chapter Thirteen The Pond.............................171Chapter Fourteen Gone Fishing.........................179Chapter Fifteen The Sleigh............................189Chapter Sixteen The Storm.............................199Chapter Seventeen Gates of Re.........................211Chapter Eighteen Mist of Light........................227Chapter Nineteen Free Fall............................237Epilogue...............................................253

Chapter One

At il

For one split second the sun faded out the winter darkness and displayed a brilliant sky of blue. Its golden rays of light sifted through soft, white clouds and reflected the brightness on snow covered fields below. Just as quickly as it came the sun flash passed, allowing the darkness to again take over the sky. Daylight season had now begun far north of the Arctic Circle.

Nearing twilight, some weeks later, a thirteen-year-old boy called Fox was frantically pacing back and forth behind a pile of rubble at the city dump. He had been waiting most of the day for his friends. "They should have been here by now," he mumbled under his breath. They were late and he was scared. With anxiety peaking, he glared at the empty path stretching toward the alley below.

Suddenly hearing the distant sound of trampling boots, he cringed, nervously holding his breath. "Oh, no," he whispered, quickly ducking out of sight. "It's the guards-they're already making their rounds." He squeezed between the bundles of garbage and stood perfectly still, trying to control his chattering teeth. With hands pushed against his lips, Fox tried to calm down.

They came closer.

"Ya know tha' boy, Fox," said the first guard.

Hearing his name, an icy shiver slid down Fox's back. "They're looking for me." His body stiffened.

"Yeah, what about him?" said his partner.

"We gotta keep an eye out fer `im, ya know."

"Why? He seems like an okay kid."

"Wal, that's the word."

"But he's the governor's boy."

"Makes no difrence ef `e is er not."

Gathering up some nerve, Fox pulled the knit koyt more snuggly over his curly mop of copper red hair and poked his head out. He held his breath, not daring to move, as they came closer.

One of the guards glanced in his direction, then back to his partner.

"What did he do?"

"Dunno. Prob'ly stealin'. Ya know how that goes."

"I guess."

They turned at the end of the street.

Fox's knees buckled. "Too close," he shuddered. Sliding to the ground, he pulled his knees tight against his stomach and squeezed them together, heaving a sigh of relief.

An instant later, his thoughts flashed back to his friends. He jumped to his feet, whispering frantically into the dull afternoon. "Wolf! Hawk! Where are you?"

For the thirtieth time it seemed, he had gazed down the empty hill. His friends were not there and he knew it. Dejectedly he turned, forcing his feet back toward the crate where he had spent most of the afternoon, and sat down. Slipping off the koyt, he raked his fingers through the tangled mass of rusty locks beneath, nervously massaging his ears. After turning up the cuff around the edge of it, he pulled it back on.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

Fox had lived most of his life with his parents in At il, an old forgotten city, far north of the Arctic Circle. Although located close to the flat, open tundra, the small community was well protected by a high, thickly-coated barricade of snow and ice. It had a catwalk, leading each direction around the city, with steps to the ground on either side of the wall. Perched on top and to the right of the steps, was a security shack. Directly above the shack hung a roughly-hewn placard of wood, with the engraved letters At il, marking the city entrance. It was better known by residents as the old city.

The city entrance faced south. It overlooked a broad span of spindly, tough growth of vines and small bushes that spiked through the thick layer of ice coating that only melted slightly throughout the year. This wide band of brush, sporadically dotted with low-growing vegetation and occasional small trees, stretched toward the eastern and western horizons. It separated the tree line from the vast northern wilderness of frozen plains, as well as pressing across the valley toward the mountain foothills.

Tempered from view by nearby craggily hills, the city fortress was well camouflaged by broken tree limbs, wood chunks and loose brush which had been driven into the city's outer base by the harsh northern winds.

Early one morning Fox was lying in bed, planning his first day of the three month break from his studies at the university. He would begin his fourth year when classes resumed. Most of his break was already scheduled out and he was anxious to get started.

When he overheard his name mentioned he automatically became more attentive to his parents conversation. His father, the city governor and his mother, the director of city planning, were in the tiny kitchen collecting their lunches and about to leave for work.

"I suppose he's meeting his friends."

"Sandor didn't say-," his mother said.

"They call him Fox, you know," his father pointed out.

"I know. It's a pity," she answered.

"It's safer, though."

"Don't forget your fruit. The market doesn't often stock fresh produce."

"I've got it. Thanks." He reached toward his coat pocket. "Do you have the house key?"

"Um-hum, it's right here."

A few moments later Fox heard the front door close and the click of the lock, as they left. At the window he watched them cross the street, half-noticing the dreary light beaming from the lamp above them as they stepped on the sidewalk and turned, heading toward their offices down town. Turning back toward his room, he thought, "I guess I'd better get ready to go. I have a lot of stops to make this morning. Hawk and Wolf are usually on time-don't want to be late."

He smoothed the down-filled comforter over his half-sized bunk and pushed the worn edge of it between the bed frame and dresser then sat down, still mulling over his plans. Turning slightly, he pulled clean thermal socks and underwear from the upper drawer of his bureau. After a quick glance across the room, he nodded approvingly at the slight morning light. Reaching for his boots from under the window, he sat on the bed to put them on. With a deft twist to straighten the liners, he then buckled them in place.

Once dressed and ready to leave, Fox headed for the pantry to gather food and supplies for the day. He then rifled through the cupboard, in search of a special package from his mother. "I knew she'd leave something," he grinned, pulling it from the back of a drawer. After opening the parcel, he began sorting the contents. "Cheese, dried meat, bread and-let's see what else is in here; oh yeah, some dried fruit. The children will like that." Being careful to re-wrap each item, he packed everything in his knapsack and stashed it with his lantern and other supplies at the front door. He then went to the closet for his coat.

Much to his surprise, his father's old fur coat was hanging there instead of his own. Excitedly, he slipped his arms into the sleeves and tied the belt around his slim waist. Although taller than most of the boys his age, the coat still hung well past his knees. "Wow, my dad kept his promise. This is nice," he said, stroking the fur. "I guess his 'official governor robes' finally arrived. He's been waiting a long time for them."

With a happy grin, Fox scanned the front of the coat then jabbed his hands deep into the pockets, finding them empty. "I'd better get some gloves and stuff," he thought, running back to his room. "It's a good thing I checked before leaving." Sliding to his knees, he dug through the lower drawer of his bureau, pulling out a couple of knit koyts and a pair of gloves. With the spares of each in his pockets, he pushed one of the koyts over his unruly mop of curls and scrunched it down over his ears. Choosing not to be stressed with it falling off, he tied it securely under his chin.

When finished, he tossed the knapsack over his shoulder, locked the front door and crossed the street. Aiming his steps toward the city square, he jogged quickly down the small sidewalk to his first stop.

His plan was to visit a number of targeted grocery stores early that morning, in hopes of salvaging usable produce before it was disposed of. He knew the shop-owners were required, by city law, to burn all excess food and he was in hopes of snatching the good stuff before that happened. If they were caught giving it away, or allowing it to be used illegally, they would be heavily fined or forced to close their shops.

Arriving hours before the stores opened, he immediately ran for the burn containers, behind the stores. The excess or damaged food was usually collected and stacked around the containers then dumped, a little at a time to keep the fire from going out. In each case, the fires had already been set and everything was gone. There were roaring flames boiling out the top of all the large metal drums lined up behind each of the buildings. He ran from store to store, knowing the chances of making a raid were slim to none. Finally giving up, he bagged the meager samples he had salvaged and added them to what he'd gleaned from the family pantry. Quite disappointed, he draped the knapsack across his shoulder and slowly headed across town to meet his friends.

Since his food scavenging took a lot less time than expected, he knew it would be a while before his friends would show up. They were to meet at twilight and it was just past noon. Not to have his spirits dampened, he stayed busy clearing out the mounds of trash from the new meeting place he'd found, making the space inside much more usable.

The security guards had demolished their other hideaway and he had been pressed to find a new one. This location seemed a good choice. With the surrounding trash and debris acting as a barrier, the activities of Fox and his friends would be better hidden from outsiders, especially the guards. They would most likely pass it by without a thought, or so he hoped.

Looking down the hill, with a positive nod, he considered the street lamp at the crossing. The clearing around it was another plus, since it was extremely important that the children have easy accessibility to the gathered food, Fox was well pleased with his choice.

One concern kept popping into his thoughts and he couldn't seem to shake it. His friends, Hawk and Wolf, had never visited this hideaway before and since it was so secluded, they might have a problem finding it. He kept mulling over all the details.

By early afternoon, the sun had slipped toward the western sky. Fox looked about, proud that his cleanup task was finally finished. All the litter had been picked up, bagged and stacked with the rest of the trash. The cleared space was large, but still well hidden. There was nothing more to do but wait.

He stood at the hideaway entrance, pondering the details again. Peering at the street lamp, below, he muttered, "I told Hawk and Wolf how to get here. We went over the instructions a number of times." Squeezing through the small entrance, he headed back toward the crate where he'd been sitting. "I don't know why I'm worried; they've found all the other places we've used." Brushing off the new layer of snow from his seat, he pushed it further into the wall of trash. Thoughtfully, he gazed toward the western horizon. "It's still early, anyway." Giving his koyt a shake, he stretched it back over his head and leaned back. His eyes trailed upward, toward the gray sky, then closed as he waited.

A slow giggle left his throat when spiraling snowflakes drifted into his eyelashes. "Mmm, that tickles." His blue eyes blinked open.

Mesmerized by the scene above, he watched the soft flakes fall lazily down, sprinkling white across his chest. He noticed some had clung to the furry hairs on his sleeve and leaned closer. He began to count. "One second, two seconds, three seconds-gone." After breathing on the flakes, he tilted his head back and waited for the next batch to stick, counting again. Sometime later, the sky had cleared to a golden tan.

Fox gently ran his fingers through the soft layer of fur, draped across his chest. A smile of pride covered his face. He reflected back to the morning. His father's hand-me-down coat was now wrapped around him. Snuggling into the warmth, he looked down and caressed the fur again.

Glancing across the hideaway again, his thoughts slipped back to his friends. "That city lamp is a good landmark," he mused. "Wolf and Hawk just need to turn there and come straight up the hill." He leaned back, comfortably. "I don't know why I keep worrying. As quiet as it is, I should have no trouble hearing them."

The thought had hardly passed his mind when the distant sound of clang, plunk, plunk, clang, clang, clang, reached his ears. An uneven rhythm of wood against metal pealed, like dull bells, through the crisp air. He knew the wooden placard, bearing the city name, was beating against the metal pole again, announcing a change in the wind pattern. He chuckled to himself. "That quiet time didn't last long." He pulled the fur up around his ears, muffling the noise, and leaned back.

A long while later, the incessant racket finally ceased and he sighed. He pulled the collar and hood back off his head and roamed toward the entrance. "Maybe I'd better wait outside. It will be getting dark soon and I don't want to miss them." His eyes rested on the emptiness under the lamp. Dejectedly, he sighed.

Looking up, he watched a shooting star with a long fire-ball tail pass by. Not far to one side was the full moon with a bright ring around it, promising a deep chill before morning light. With a shiver, he sat up, pulling the hood of his coat over the koyt and closer to his chin.

Although the few arctic hours of daylight had brought some warmth, dampness from the slight thaw still hung in the air, causing the near freezing temperature to seem much colder. The biting wind had finally stilled to a slight breeze. He turned slightly, observing the lingering purple- gray haze of twilight that followed the setting sun.

Fox's eyes were drawn again, to the crossing below. Oblivious to the huddles of nondescript dwellings and small, seemingly abandoned igloos sprawled aimlessly across the city grounds, he carefully studied each of the streets and alleys between them. With a slow growl, he muttered, "come on now, it's really getting late. You should have been here by now." He pulled the fur wrap up close, shielding himself from the night chill, as he paced. Near panic had taken over his thoughts.

Although nearly fourteen, he would be the first to admit he was afraid for himself, yes of course, but mainly for his friends, Hawk and Wolf. They would not be out roaming the streets, gathering food for the children, if he had not asked them to do so. Now that the streets were nearly dark, the guards should be doing their rounds. Although they didn't seem to stay on any schedule, Fox knew they were supposed to walk all the streets four times each full day. His father had told him it was to keep the city safe but everyone always hid from them.

With that thought, his fears began to run wild; what if the guards caught his friends toting bags of stolen food. They'd want to know where it came from and what they were planning to do with it.

He knew they couldn't tell the truth; that it was for the children. Of course not! Feeding the children was against the law; everyone knew that. And if they did get caught, what could he do? These thoughts of guilt kept racing through his mind. Added to that, dusk had now set in and the night noises were grating on his nerves. Back and forth, he continued to pace, getting more agitated by the minute.

Before he realized what was happening, he was falling forward; crashing into the snow-coated ground. Without thinking, he yelled. His hands were flailing through the air as he lashed out for something to grab. He dug them into the stacked piles of garbage. One bag began to roll. The rest came tumbling after, knocking him flat against the hard ground.

An eternity later it seemed, they stopped. Gasping and coughing, his head finally broke the surface and he spewed out, "eweu," holding his nose, "that's some nasty stuff in there." After a lot of squirming and kicking, he pulled himself upright and sat in the midst of it all, laughing. "It's amazing, what I do sometimes, for excitement."

A shuffling sound suddenly cut through the air. "What was that?" He thought. The hair on his neck bristled. Tip-toeing across the hideaway, he peeked down the vacant hill. "I must be hearing things." Then worming his way back through the strewn bundles of refuse, he sat down.

He waited.

He heard the voice again. It ripped through the stillness. "Fox, where are you?"

Startled by the sharpness of the sound, he jerked around. "That's no voice I know," he thought, "but if it isn't Hawk- or Wolf, who else would it be?"

Feeling his emotions tested, he tried to stay calm. "It can't be security," he thought, "surely not this soon."

Hidden, just outside the hideaway entrance, his eyes traced the hillside, as well as the landing below. His heart raced, wishing he could call back.

The voice rang out again. He stopped.

"Fox are you here? Where are you?"

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Throwawaysby D. R. Strahan Copyright © 2010 by D. R. Strahan. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Publication date: 2010
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 1452081727
• ISBN 13: 9781452081724
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 264