Bill Halpin - The Cult of Eden: Book One of the Unrisen

In the age-old struggle between Good and Evil between Christianity and Satanism there are heroes and there are villains. However, as The Cult of Eden, the first part of Bill Halpins The Unrisen saga reveals, in the heat of battle it is not always clear who are the good guys and who are the bad... as black and white certainties are swept away by a tide of bloodstained grey.

Charles Christian, editor The Grievous Angel zine

A riveting read! Halpin takes a new spin on the creepy religious cult and amps the terror factor up to eleven! Not only is the Cult of Eden like no group youve ever seen before, but the Battese family is thrown into a bizarre and complex plan to effectively undo all of creation. This stellar freshman novel from Bill Halpin has me on the edge of my seat waiting for the next installment!

Kathleen, www.belleofthebookcase.com

The Cult of Eden is one of those books that tricks you into thinking its going one way and then BAM! it switches gears and takes you on an even crazier journey. The things the author puts these characters through should be illegal, even in a book! Im looking forward to seeing what else he can come up with in the future, too!

Armand Rosamilia, author of the Dying Days zombie series

The Cult of Eden is a stellar debut novel. A kaleidoscope of religious undertones and occult sprinklings not seen since The Exorcist. Im a Bill Halpin fan!

Chuck Buda, author of Curse of the Ancients and The First Cut

The Cult of Eden

BOOK ONE OF THE UNRISEN

The Cult of Eden

BOOK ONE OF THE UNRISEN

Bill Halpin

Winchester, UK

Washington, USA

First published by Cosmic Egg Books, 2019

Cosmic Egg Books is an imprint of John Hunt Publishing Ltd., 3 East St., Alresford,

Hampshire SO24 9EE, UK

www.johnhuntpublishing.com

For distributor details and how to order please visit the Ordering section on our website.

Bill Halpin 2018

ISBN: 978 1 78904 062 3

978 1 78904 063 0 (ebook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018936100

All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publishers.

The rights of Bill Halpin as author have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Design: Stuart Davies

UK: Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

US: Printed and bound by Thomson-Shore, 7300 West Joy Road, Dexter, MI 48130

For my grandfather, Edward Grismer

And as he sowed, some seeds fell by the wayside, and the birds came and devoured them.

-Matthew 13:4

The sun was lost above the dense canopy of trees and nearly forgotten, save for a few fragments of light that managed to sneak their way through. Far below, the forest floor was in a state of almost perpetual darkness. It was a place where an outsider could easily become lost and disoriented, but to the boy named Peak, it was home.

Peak belonged to the Nacana tribe, a group that numbered just under two hundred and had inhabited this area of the Amazon for centuries. Like he did on most days, Peak explored his territory after the men left the village to hunt. He was only nine years oldtoo young yet to be a hunter himself, but he liked to pretend. With a small, pointed branchresembling a spear well enough in the low lighthe went on imaginary quests for great, wild beasts.

This morning, Peak had awoken to a heavy thunderstorm. They were common, almost daily occurrences and did little to interfere with his exploits. But as the unseen sky boomed, the boy sensed the beginning of another headache. For the last few months, those had become as regular as the rain. Peak had kept the headaches a secret so far. His father was the chief of the Nacana, a tribe that had survivedPeak was taughtbecause of its strength. Men with illnesses were not allowed to hunt or fight...and could never lead.

A trek through the forest usually distracted Peak until the throbbing above his eyes faded, but today it hadnt. It was actually intensifying, moving deeper into his head. At one point the pain became so severe that Peak lost his balance and fell face first into the soggy earth. It was time to seek help. The village shaman had always been fond of Peak; the boy could think of no better person to confide inhe just hoped the treatment would be discreet. After a minute or two, Peak was able to regain his posture. He pointed his nose straight up, allowing the rain to wash the mud from his face, then turned to head back home.

That was when he saw the jaguar.

Peak had never seen one so close; it was only a few body lengths away. He was told that jaguars were mighty creatures, both beautiful and fearsome. This one was not. It was a baby, no more than six months old. It sat and cried out from a small clearing in the brush, but there was no sign of its mother.

Peak smiled.

The law of the villageof his fatherwas clear: only hunters were permitted to engage the giant cats. Peak convinced himself that this was an exception. Jaguars began learning to hunt at this age, so the spotted orange cub would be just the right match for a chiefs son. Peak believed that if he could slay it, it would prove that the strength inside him was greater than the sickness.

Peak hurled his makeshift spear at the cub, but his excitement made him careless. The throw was rushed, his technique all wrong. The branch spun wildly and landed far short of its target. The cub, startled by the noise, darted further into the jungle. Determined not to fail, Peak snatched up his weapon and raced after the prize.

The boy knew his rainforest well, but thunderstorms could create new obstacles. Unlike the sunshine, the rain made its way through the canopy to the ground with ease. As the raindrops descended through the trees, they merged to form vertical rivers in ever-changing locations. The shifting waterfalls obscured Peaks vision, threw off his sense of direction, and slowed down his hunt. All the while, the misery in his head continued to grow.

Peak approached a small, unfamiliar stream that could only have been formed minutes ago by the downpour. The cub tried to run through it, but stumbled and fell onto the opposite side. Wheezing with exhaustion, it remained sprawled out on its belly. Peak leapt over the stream without incident, landing right in front of the animal. He raised his weapon and readied the killing blow.

At that moment, Peak heard a terrible roar.

Tremors ran through his body as he turned to face what he knew was the cubs mother. Just a few paces away, the adult jaguar stood, its black eyes boring into Peaks. The beast snarled, displaying its sharp, curved incisors. Peak looked down at the branch in his hand. It seemed thinner now and duller than it was at the start of the chase. It shook along with Peaks arms.