Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. (46 page)

As Shane rages blindly on the floor Chamuel in his new adult body picked for strength and agility, with Roberts help holds him down giving him something to fight against, Leo has finally snapped back into himself and is desperately looking for some way to turn the bloody thing off. He cannot find anything and he looks back at the screen as the pulley is released, Sara’s body dropping to the floor so that the dogs can properly begin to feast.

As the screams stop Shane finally relents and as the two men release him he curls in the foetal position, arms over his head, lost to pain no one can save him from. The savage attack continues on screen and Reuben laughs loudly coming into shot.

“Well, that was entertaining,” he says. “Phew! Just to let you know this is what awaits you too, and all your loved ones. In fact anyone who sides with the human champion, Shane Mills, or takes up against me, will endure pain that they never imagined possible.” Reuben’s jollity dissolves into a serious stare. “Understand this, Shane Mills, you are just a human. I understand that these Arc Hon are forcing you into something I am sure you have no interest in getting involved in, so why don’t you just accept defeat now? Save us all the bother and I will allow you to get on with your life. I’ll even reunite you with young Shane here. The crying toddler is passed into his arms. Reuben points towards them. “Look into that pretty woman’s eyes,” he tells the child. “Say hello to your daddy.”

The child stops crying and stares; his expression is scared and confused, looking for his daddy.

“I hope you are still watching, Shane,” says Reuben. “Your little boy here seems to be very upset and I think he needs his daddy. Now I am disappointed that you refused to save the woman who loved you so much. But I am hoping you won’t be so cruel regarding your very own blood. Look at those sad, tear-filled eyes, Shane.”

Chamuel and the others now regard the images with detachment, an emotional barrier to save their sanity.

“I really don’t want to hurt this child, but needs must and all that,” smiles Reuben.

Shane pushes himself off the floor. He stares at the little boy who he never even knew existed until a few minutes ago. Shane’s mind is close to breaking point but the face he is looking at now forces him to come back from the brink. He needs to save this child, but how?

“So, what will it be Shane?” continues Reuben. “Do we have to go through all that drama again or do I just cut his throat now?” One of his lackeys passes Reuben a wicked-looking knife. “I am quite tired now after the previous excitement, so this time shall we call it thirty seconds? Same deal, just a few simple words.”

He places the blade close to the child’s throat.

Shane stands there expressionless. He looks to the new Chamuel, saying nothing but letting him know he should not get involved this time. Chamuel relents and decides he can do no more. Robert can watch no longer and leaves as he hears yet another countdown. Leo follows.

“Twenty-five, twenty-four…” Reuben suddenly halts his countdown. He frowns. His attention has been distracted by something else, something behind Solfrid. The image rotates as she also turns around to see what Reuben has seen. Now Chamuel can see too: a bright light independent of any form hovers behind Solfrid. In seconds it grows from a tiny twinkle to a bright blinding glare. Shane, as bemused as everyone else, seems to be staring into thin air. He can’t see anything. He looks at Chamuel who is also staring.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It is an aura,” says Chamuel. “One I don’t recognise. It has no physical host but it’s growing, it has taken shape, it’s a…”

Chamuel stops. Shane turns to see his eyes flicker then completely glaze over as if he is frozen. Shane looks back at the image to see that the Djinn there are also frozen, not even a twitch. If he looked hard he would see there was no evidence even of breathing. The nurse and the two lackeys fall to the ground. Then young Shane toddles into the frame. He is looking up at something but Shane cannot see what.

“What is going on? What are you looking at?” Shane shouts, not knowing who he is asking.

Chamuel still stares with no expression, his body rigid. Shane looks back to find the boy is following whatever he is looking at. The door swings open and the boy leaves. Shane is certain his child actually disappears as he exits. The door slams shut again and, as if waking from a sleep, the Djinn reanimate. The image on the screen pans back to Reuben.

“What the fuck just happened?” he asks.

Solfrid cuts the connection and the screen goes blank.



“What happened? What just happened,” asks a panicked Shane as he catches the stumbling Chamuel.

“I have no idea… the aura it, it was as if it possessed me and the others. I could see but couldn’t move, but how I don’t know. I wasn’t in the room. I’M A FUCKING ARC HON! Nothing can do that to me!”

Shane grabs and shakes him. “Whose aura was it? I must know, it took my child!”

“I don’t know! I recognise every aura, Djinn or Arc Hon, but this I have never seen before. I cannot explain how it exists without a physical form. I don’t understand.”

Shane is losing patience. “You must know something. What did you see? I could see nothing but the child seemed to see it. What was it?”

“It was white, no, silver… it was an aura the likes of which I have never seen before. Quite magnificent. I don’t think it will harm the child. I felt its empathy.”

“I saw the auras of some of the Djinn. Not a white one, though. You must know whose it was.”

“It wasn’t a Djinn aura, it was an animal aura. A shark, a magnificent great white shark. Djinn don’t have animal auras, only Arc Hon do.”

Two days later

Shane readies himself to leave the base. He now has two quests: he must defeat these Djinn bastards and he must find his son. Amitiel visited him once more last night and explained that although she had not witnessed the scene with his son, she had felt the presence of the aura at the time. She was of the same belief as Chamuel, that this aura showed great empathy with the child and so believed that somehow it was connected to him, and, therefore, most likely to Shane too. The rest she could not explain. She had no idea who or what it was. She did know, however, that she also had a strong connection to the aura. A feeling she had never felt before.

Shane was more than ready for the fight. He was angry, he was determined, but more than anything, he was focused. By introducing him to his child, Reuben had inadvertently created a foe ten times stronger and more committed than before. He had his list from Amitiel. He would recruit them all and together they would wage war on these bastard Djinn. He may have lost his first battle with Reuben but now he knows his opponent.

This is not over, this has just begun.

Epilogue

Hagga village, northern Nigeria. Four hundred Boko Haram rebels stealthily approach, heavily armed and under orders to abduct all women eligible for marriage and to kill everyone else. The villagers are not aware of the fate that awaits them as they sleep.

One man is awake, though. The strange white man came into the village that morning. He just wandered in and sat by the tree that is set in the village centre, saying nothing. Most of the villagers have seen white men before but not like this one. His clothes are not Western and his hair is a huge matted mess. The village elders had approached him, suspecting he was with a TV crew or on some life experience programme, like the German who came last year. The white man did not speak however; he just sat there, waiting. All day he sat under the tree, the children teased and giggled, the women gossiped, some pointed and laughed. But still the man just waited.

As night came, the village went to sleep and the man stayed under the tree. When the four hundred rebels are less than half a mile away, the man stands up. He wanders from the tree, out into the one road that leads in and out of the village. He waits. Soon he can see the dim lights of the burning torches held in the hands of bloodthirsty, battle-hardened men who are ready and prepared to rape and murder in the name of their God and creator, Allah.

Well, they are about to meet their maker but his name is not Allah.

YOU DESERVE A SHARE OF THIS BOOK!!!

Dear reader

First may I thank you for reading my book, I very much hope you enjoyed it.                                                            

The success of a book no matter how good relies on the advocacy of its readers and reviews are a powerful tool in building the readership. On that matter I wish to offer profit shares (this is a bribe) to any readers who submit a review of Attrition of the Gods to Amazon, Goodreads or Barnes and Noble. I will be giving away 10% of all my profits from this book including film/TV rights (fingers crossed) and any other revenue streams.

I would love that together we make this book a success
and that you the reader benefit from its success
. All I ask is you write an honest review and then click on the site below, you will receive confirmation of your share. This is for the early readers, Let’s make it a bestseller and we will all benefit financially for years to come.

This offer will be closed at my discretion but once you’re in you’re in.

www.pgburns.com/readersprofitshare

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Acknowledgements and thanks

My thanks to test readers, Bernadette McShane, Vicky Leahy, Elizabeth McDaid and Lorraine Gillespie, whose advice and observations were so valuable.

A special thanks to David Hughes a marketing genius who has been true to his word and helped me to get this story to you.

I am very grateful to both of my editors, Elizabeth (Lizzie) Wright and the brilliant Kelley Townley.

Also thanks to:

Nikki Mason, proof-reader.

Lukasz Skrzyniarz, Luke Corr, Joshua Neilly – OHR Marketing

Noel@apexmediaprint – graphics and cover

Thanks to Innovative Publishers for their belief in this book.

Attrition of the Gods
is dedicated to Gerry and Bridie Burns for their support, especially during the last few years; thanks to you I have been able to get my life on track.

I love you both.

                               Attrition of the Gods

Copyright © 2015 by Innovative publishing (UK) Limited
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be any otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2015

ISBN 9780993451409

Innovative Publishing Ltd.
6 St Colman’s Park

Co. Down

BT34 2BX                                                                                                                                                                                     
 www.pgburns.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover design by Apex media and print.

Book design by ORH Marketing Ltd.

This is the first novel by PG Burns.

Running nightclubs and organizing parties on the Island of Ibiza was far removed from PGs childhood growing up on a council estate in Coventry. He found the colourful life he craved when at the age of eighteen he discovered the Balearic isle.

Working as a DJ and later as nightclub owner and event organizer PG built himself a small empire and considerable fortune. Everything was perfect until he fell out with some local mobsters who were envious of his success. PG says he could have handled the jealous rivals but when it was discovered he was involved with the top gangster’s daughter it was time to make a quick exit. After the alleged slip from a twelfth story balcony which killed his friend and business partner the local police convinced PG to flee immediately with just the shirt on his back.

The ship docked in Casablanca and so began a yearlong “wander” around North Africa. “I was penniless but happy to be alive and I drew on many of the sights and experiences I had during this period when I wrote this book”.

On returning to the UK he rekindled his relationship with fellow DJs from the clubs and bars of Ibiza and inspired by the late night party culture they joined forces, kicked the doors open of a disused warehouse, set up the lights, decks and amps; so began the warehouse party phenomenon of the early nineties. This developed into the rave scene and PG used his earnings to open bars and restaurants all over the UK.