Title: The Man With No Past, A Path To Nowhere
Author: Travis Haselton
Page count: Ebook 51 KB
Price: .99 cents
Travis Haselton was born in Yreka CA in 1985, grew up in a small town outside of Vegas. He was taught from a young age the basics of combat, survival, and tracking. At the age of 14 he started traveling the country working for a mining company. He now writes of the places he has been in his stories.
Tell us about your book:
It is the start of a series about a man who has no memory of himself. He is badly wounded when he finds help in the form of an old farmer. He finds that his past is less than peacefull when the farmer runs into some trouble from people who knew of his past. As he searches for himself he blazes a trail of justice across the modern west.
How long did it take to write the book?
About a month, give or take.
What inspired you to write the book?
It all started with a picture my wife took of me on the beach. My figure was a silhouette in the sunset in Del Mar. After that it was just me day dreaming at work them comming home to write it down.
Talk about the writing process. Did you have a writing routine? Did you do any research, and if so, what did that involve?
Most of the things and places in this story I am already familiar with. Very little research was involved. Some places have had detailes left out or I have changed them for creative purposes, but no real research was done.
What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?
Being entertained. I hope that they will want to read more. That is just about it,
Where can we go to buy your book?
Amazon.com kindle store, or goodreads.com.
Any other links or info you’d like to share?
Well. not specificly. Just that if you visit goodreads or kindle boards you will be able to find me there.
Excerpt from book:
A PATH TO NOWHERE
When I woke up I was numb. I couldn’t feel anything from my head down to my toes. I layed motionless for a minute not able to think of anything, just breathing. I couldn’t seem to wrap my thoughts around anything except the rythm of my chest rising and falling. After sometime past, I realized that I was face down in the grass. I couldn’t say how long I layed there before I felt the pain.
The pain seemed to fade into existence and gradually engulfed my entire body. My head felt like the Saturday morning product of a drunken Friday night. My knuckles burned and there was a sharp pain on the right side of my belly. My ribcage was throbbing top to bottom.
I tried to stand up, but when I did, my vision blurred and I felt dizzy. I sat up with one knee on the ground. I couldn’t see much because my left eye was almost completely swollen shut. I felt my ribs and everything was soft and very sore. The pain on my right side seemed to be coming from a deep cut about four inches long just below my ribcage. It seemed clean which suggested it was probably from a knife. Instinctively I pulled the skin apart and looked inside to make sure there was no internal bleeding or damaged organs.
After I found nothing wrong there, I looked around to see where I was. In front of me was a meadow. Not a very large meadow only about fifty yards in diameter. The surrounding woods were very dense. Behind me was a steep rock face about ninety feet tall. It wasn’t straight up like a cliff yet it was noticably steep.
Stumbling, I went to the rocks to inspect them and to try and figure out what had happened to me. It was then that I realized that I had no memory of what had happened. Where I was, or even…. who I was. I looked down at the rocks took a deep breath and saw small amounts of dried blood on a flat part of the rocks.
Prompted by this, I turned back around to look where I had been laying. There I saw a large amount of dried blood. The bulk of it was in two distinct puddles. One was located where my head had been and the other was where my torso had rested.
My head started to spin rapidly so I thought it best to sit down. Looking around I saw that the sun was still up but on its way down. The meadow was beautiful with scattered blossoms of red, yellow, and orange, with a few blue wild flowers mixed in. The flowers seemed to blanket the grass as a few butterflies fluttered across the meadow.
I couldn’t remember what happened but I figured I had fallen from the top of the rock face. Guessing by the fact that all the blood was completely dry I had been out for awhile. Trying to process the situation I ran my hand through my hair and stopped abruptly. It seems I had a head full of blood and a large bump right on my front hairline. My best guess was that this might be what caused my amnesia.
My stomach started to churn and I was getting dizzy again. With the amount of blood I had lost it seemed likely I was going into shock. If that happened I may not even wake up again. In order for me to survive I needed to get some help and fast . First things first though, I needed to find my way out of here and maybe into a town, Wherever that may be .
The only clues I had to where I needed to head were at the top of that rockface. I mustered up the strength to start with a deep breath and pulled myself over the first hump. I would need to take it slow to prevent myself from becoming faint and falling again. It wasn’t as steep of a cliff as I originally thought, but climbing it would still be exhausting in my current condition.
I took a high step and pulled up again this time rolling onto my back. I layed for a few seconds breathing heavily. I was already winded and tired but I needed to keep going. Keeping my right hand on the knife wound to prevent it from opening up again I pushed through my exhaustion. I made it up another fifteen feet or so before I had to rest again. My body didn’t have anywhere near the resources it needed to make this climb but I had to keep going. If I stopped for too long I knew I wouldn’t keep trying. I got up and forced myself to continue.
The next twenty feet or so would be a steep scramble and I would need to use every bit of strength I had to do it. I took a deep breath and started on all fours clawing and digging into the rocks, trying as hard as I could to keep from falling again. Now I was about five feet from the top of this grade and I started to salivate. My muscles begged me to stop but I couldn’t listen to them. My lungs burned and my heart raced as I neared the top. I rolled onto my back again on the last ledge just before the top. I rested for a couple minutes in a dire state.
I had one more good hump to get over and I didn’t know if I could make it. My head was spinning and sweat was dripping into my eyes. I sat for a few breaths while staring at the last eight feet or so. In my first movement I felt the cut reopen but I hadn’t the time to stop. I lunged, grabbed a rock and pulled myself up as I let out a cry. I swung my right leg up and stood at the top of what had to have been the most difficult climb of my life. Not that I could recall any of it anyways.
Trying to breath the fire out of my lungs I turned around to see an even larger lightly wooded meadow. The meadow was much the same as what I had just emerged from, just about three times the size. I looked to the ground and saw a large number of tracks. They seemed to be human footprints of a few different sizes. I looked at the tread pattern on my shoes, which seemed to be service boots of some sort. I was immediatly able to match some of the prints to be my own. There where three other tread patterns I was able to distinguish.
I started to follow the tracks as I hobbled along to the other side of the meadow. I couldn’t tell what exactly happened here, but due to how mixed up and scrambled the tracks where I knew there had been a very long, drawn out fight. About halfway through the meadow I saw a green pickup truck.
I immediatly disregarded the tracks and ran to the truck as best I could. When I got to it I saw that it was a late sixty’s model Ford F250. I didn’t know how I knew this but I did. I tried the door and it opened. As I sat inside I instinctively reach into my jeans pocket and pulled out a set of keys. I put the one labeled FORD in the ignition and she started right up.
It was then that I decided to take a look around and study myself. I was wearing a light brown long sleeve shirt with pinstripes of a few different shades going up and down on it. A pair of wrangler blue jeans and black service boots. I looked on the dash of the truck and found a brown wool brimmed hat. Kinda like an Austrailian cowboy hat. I put it on my head kinda half cocked to the side due to my goose egg. It felt good to wear it but it irritated my wounds. I took it off and put it back on the dash. I saw out the corner of my eye wedged under the passenger side of the bench seat some rolled up leather.
I crouched under the dash board to take a look and pulled it out. It was a rolled up shoulder rig holster with a 1911 frame auto pistol and two extra magazines. I slung the holster on and withdrew the pistol. It had a lowered and flared ejection port, checkering on the handle and an ambidextrous safety. I wasn’t aware how I knew this sort of thing but it came naturally. The nausea and dizziness set in deeper now and I knew I had to get going somewhere.
I turned the truck around and headed in the direction the tracks where coming from. It seemed that I had come from this way so I figured it had to lead to a road of some sort. I drove till the sun went down and then drove some more. I couldn’t say how long I’d been driving or how far. Time seemed to blend together with distance. I was starting to feel delirious.
After some time I found myself driving through farm land and I noticed a small road to the left so I turned off. Barely able to operate my truck, I pulled up to a small house, opened the door and stumbled out of the truck. I hit the ground hard and couldn’t get myself back up. I felt like I had lost all control of myself. Almost like I was paralized. Then all I could see was darkness.