The Fight in the Dog: BOOK ONE in the Shaun Mullin Series by Franklyn Blake

Author:Franklyn Blake [Blake, Franklyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

Then snatches of jokes, truisms his father had utilised, and Anglo-Irish proverbs. Cartoon voices. Disembodied voices.

These were manifestations of childhood – expressions of an age he barely remembered; mantras handed down to him from a culture removed from its source and transplanted to England. Their resurgence in his brain represented a desperate desire for safety. A respite from fear.

Holy Mary, helper of the helpless…

After a while, the songs and the thoughts and the words and the feelings couldn’t be kept apart from one another. The walls in his mind were crumbling, and this brought about a cacophonous medley in his head.

Things come and things go, only I am constant -

The famous Glasgow Rangers went to Rome to see the Pope, and this is what he said: FUCK OFF -

Soft the wind blew down the glade and shook the golden barley –

Two nuns in the bath one says to the other –

And I saw a pale horse with all of hell following on behind –

Rain down on me from a great height, from a great height –

Twenty minutes after his escape from Elmina, he had hit a wall. His physical capacity had plummeted alarmingly, and soon he could barely summon the energy required for each step. His legs were quivering and breathing now required effort. Every yard gained felt harder than the last.

He was in pain. Pain that had matured minute by minute, to bury itself deeper into him, more profoundly. It was burning him from the inside out.

He now heard the voice of Madeleine March, clear and pure, for the first time in decades. He snorted with laughter at the accuracy of his brain’s impersonation of her.

She exhorted him to rest. To sink into it. To comply with nature.

Stop, Shaun.

Just fall where you are.

Wait for sleep.

That would be relief. There had been no sign of torchlight for a while. He was free of the monsters that had chased him here. He could be free of the panic and the pain, too.

Therefore, my brethren, you also were made to die…

But the cold had now penetrated to his very core. Through the fog in his head, he knew how dangerous that was. He had to keep moving.

Onwards.

Forwards.

But he couldn’t.

God loves his children, yeah!

But he must.

Madeleine spoke again.

Lay down with me.

Lie here, Shaun.

No. He must keep on, until there was not an ounce of consciousness left in him.

That’s all, folks!

Until the very end, whatever and whenever that may be.

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight that counts, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.

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