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A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

Page 7

by D. N. Woodward


  “Time to earn your money and your freedom.”

  “Hooah!” at least three of them replied as they all immediately got to work grabbing gear and heading off in their different directions.

  Chapter 6

  Shana pulled the thick neoprene jacket tight around her chest. Though the buttons and zipper were gone, along with the rest of the metal material brought through the void, the warmth it provided put a stop to her shivering.

  On the other hand, Leon was somewhat skipped over when it came time to hand out the cool-weather gear. Likely, it was a not-so-subtle punishment for his earlier spat with Ben. Instead of something thick and warm, he was given long pants and a camo button down to go over his T-shirt. He did his best not to appear miserable and depressed in his current situation, but his teeth were beginning to chatter, and it was hard to appear cavalier with permanent goosebumps.

  Shana, Reed, and Leon were all three given the task of rummaging for useful gear through the remnant of the non-metallic equipment that made it over with the team. It was boring work. It was also amazing how much junk Ben and his men were able to bring along. While sorting through what made it through intact, Leon got the impression if Ben could retake the old-world using chewing tobacco and Mountain Dew, they were all in really good shape. He was just glad to see several large bags of coffee beans made it through as well. No coffee would have been simply intolerable!

  The weather sure wasn’t helping anyone’s mood either. A misty drizzle moved in shortly after Ben let his men loose to survey the area. The temperature continued to drop as the day progressed.

  Merle, on the other hand, was still doing his best to convince Leon he was a two-year-old pup. The old dog was a near limitless supply of energy and spunk. Almost like the very air around them gave him renewed vigor and youth. And though Leon couldn’t be certain, it seemed like his dog stood taller in his new environment as well.

  Attempting to ignore Merle’s incessant whining for a tug-of-war game with one of Ben’s equipment bags, Leon’s eyes drifted over to Shana. She was certainly an enigma. How many sleepless high school nights had he spent tossing in bed, wondering how he could get her attention?

  He never did quite figure out why they stopped talking. In fact, it was odd to recall that the two of them had ever been close as kids.

  On the one hand, it made perfect sense. Shana was beautiful and outgoing, people flocked to her regardless of whether she wanted the attention or not. She carried a unique spark of personality that seemed to say, "I know where I’m going, and I know how to get there." People couldn’t help but wish to come along, especially the guys.

  He never knew exactly when a rift had developed between them. It just showed up and grew until it was a canyon he never felt capable of crossing. One day, he simply stopped viewing her as his friend. She was something more to him, something he wished was reciprocated.

  Yet the more his feelings grew, the further she slid from his grasp. He could vividly recall having trouble finding words to say to her. Soon enough she was busy with high school and before he knew it, she had moved on with life and left him behind.

  The thought made him consider things he’d avoided confronting in the past. He’d always assumed it was Shana who left him behind, but maybe he had unknowingly caused their friendship to fizzle?

  Recalling the spark in Shana’s eyes, the way her nose slightly wrinkled as she smiled back at him the moment she had crashed his workout the day before made him reconsider her disdain for him. It made him wonder if, just maybe, there wasn’t some cue he failed to pick up a few years back.

  He shrugged to himself.

  Leon, you twit, stop reading too much into things. The biggest cue you need to pick up on is the fact that you spend way too much time around stinking cattle and a grumpy old man!

  It wasn’t that he was unhappy with Gus on the ranch, but even there, as beautiful and peaceful as it could be at times, he often felt something was missing.

  He didn’t allow himself such thoughts often. As an orphan, he knew he literally hit the jackpot when Gus adopted him. To even think thoughts that shook that boat was to risk the single best thing to have ever happened to him - not that he could remember any time prior, but still…it couldn’t have been too good considering the state he was in when he was found.

  Such sentiments kept him clear of emotional confrontations, team sports, and nosy teachers during high school. They, unfortunately, did not transfer well into life in the real world. In reality, this was likely why Gus was always encouraging him to get out and try something different.

  Definitely going to have to remind old Gus to be careful what he wishes for when I get home!

  Shana looked up and caught him watching her. She grinned a mischievous grin back at him, “Leon, I’ve got something I want to get off my chest. But I want you to promise me you won’t be offended?”

  He gulped while doing his best, and failing, to avoid a deer in the headlights look.

  What could she possibly be about to say that would offend him? Was she actually going to come clean about why they grew apart? Was it something he did? The questions came one on top of another, hard and fast, but he somehow finally managed to nod and give her a less than confident, “Sure, go ahead, lay it on me.”

  “Why is it that the first thing that came to my mind when I glanced at you just then was you and Gus are the only two people I know who put their ranch brand on everything they own! And not just your cattle! I mean look at that old hat! In fact, I don’t remember having ever seen you or Gus when you weren’t wearing some stitch of clothing without that CW brand sown onto it!”

  She pulled off a concerned conspiratorial glance his way and leaned forward. “Do you have a certain two-letter tattoo somewhere you would rather not disclose? You can tell me, Leon. I’ll take it to the grave, promise.”

  Stifling laughter, Leon pulled his hat off and made an exaggerated show of examining the CW brand centered above the bill. He knew how some guys his age wore their ball caps, with the wide flat brims and decals off-centered or on the sides. His old curve-brimmed ball cap had nothing fancy on it, just the brand inscribed in its unique way. The branded CW letters on the front were a simple mark of pride for him and Gus. Shana was right about one thing though: His hat, along with just about everything he and Gus owned, excluding his person, were custom labeled with the CW brand initials.

  He held the cap out in front of him and used his best Gus Silberman imitation, “I don’t see a problem. If a man’s gonna wear a logo, he ought to wear something that represents his self and what he does for a living, not some jack-nut marketing scheme.”

  Shana giggled. “Touché!”

  “Anyhow, you know how Gus is a stickler about the ranch’s brand. I couldn’t ditch the CW if I tried.”

  Shana laughed harder, “Oh contraire…I seem to recall something you may have forgotten. Remember that time we got in so much trouble for convincing the Harper brothers to go Snipe hunting down by Panther Creek? Daphne grounded me for like forever when their mom called for an explanation as to why they were covered in chiggers. But what was your punishment again?”

  Leon smiled now as well. “No Cool Water gear for a week. Still a record for the longest I’ve ever gone without wearing the company colors.”

  Shana may have actually snorted at that, which just made her laugh harder. Leon laughed, too. Reed even tried and failed to stifle a smile at the ridiculousness that passed between the two of them.

  After a few minutes, the laughter faded away and Leon could tell it was a much-needed relief for all three of them. He vowed then and there, to hang on to that hat for as long as they were stuck wherever they were.

  Seeing Reed loosening up gave Leon the idea it might be a good time to get some answers. “So, Reed, how about you tell us what you know about this place?”

  Reed still struck Leon as a bit of a sour grape. He was definitely on their side, but it was almost like he resented them for it as well.
r />   “Not much to tell. We’re in Fayden I assume. This is where our ancestors came from a long time ago, when they were driven out by some Unbladed uprising. I do know this is a dangerous place to be if the stories are true."

  "Why were the trees such a big secret?" Shana asked.

  "It's a known secret among the Bladed these days that our kind has the means to return to Fayden, to this world. But the reason no one knows the how and where of that means to return is because our ancestors believed the passage between the worlds could threaten our whole existence with people back home.

  "Like I said, the stories of this place are the stuff of nightmares. I’m not so sure Ben and his guys really realize what we may be facing. I don’t even really know, but I do know this is definitely not a safe place to visit." He made a point of pitching his voice loud enough for Ben to hear the last part but was only rewarded in return with a grunt of amusement from their captor.

  Leon winced at Reed’s response. He had asked for it, though.

  Shana didn’t flinch. “Well, you’re just a regular ray of sunshine aren’t you!”

  # # #

  A few seconds later, a pair of Ben’s men came trucking it out of the mist. The big man, the one who made Leon uneasy, cut right to the point when Ben stood to greet them.

  “Heegan, we’ve found a native dwelling. The area southwest of here bottlenecks into a pinch point, with water on both sides. It’s connected to a much larger landmass. The dwelling resides on high ground within that crease.”

  “You put eyes on anyone?”

  “No, but we did see smoke from a chimney of sorts. We are standing on some type of plateau, and the terrain drops down to where the house resides. Jace and I could see a good way down into the valley below before the mist moved in heavy, there were no other dwelling places in sight.”

  “That may work in our favor. Could it be a defensible base camp?”

  They both gave an affirmative.

  “Pack up, we head out when the others return.”

  Once the other team arrived, they were able to confirm that the northern edges of the ruins were surrounded by water. That meant they were standing on a peninsula of sorts.

  Leon didn’t see how he or Shana had much say in the matter. So, reluctantly, he did as he was told when Ben said they were leaving. In less than ten minutes the whole party had geared up and was moving south.

  Light grew dim as the small group passed through remnants of massive columns and giant arches. Shadows slowly emerged to cast a foreboding aura amongst the wrecked remains of some bygone era.

  Leon was forced to step around man-sized hieroglyphic fragments and caught glimpses of miniscule shards with intricate carvings of massive, fearsome creatures amongst the wreckage. Initially, the ruins pricked his curiosity. However, the further they traipsed through the quiet city's bowels, the less and less he was inclined to wonder at its origin. It was just too quiet and still. Like they were intruding on a cemetery with broken-down mausoleums the size of small buildings.

  Thus, it was a great relief to him when the team shuffled around the last of the fallen stones. Ben called a halt and crept forward with two others to scope out the dwelling just over the next ridge. Leon could smell the smoke from a fireplace nearby.

  Shana crept closer to Leon. “Do you think this is a good idea? To just barge in on someone’s place out here after dark?”

  “No, but they’re right about one thing. We need shelter, somewhere safe. At least until we find a way out of here.”

  “Those ruins back there gave me the creeps.”

  Cooper spoke up from Shana’s right side, “Those ruins were likely once one of the cities our ancestors inhabited before they were forced into our world. Too bad we didn’t have more time to explore during daylight hours. Could you imagine what sort of information we might glean from such a place?”

  Leon noticed Cooper developing an annoying habit of appearing next to her and butting in on their conversations.

  Shana shook her head. “What are you? Some kind of crypto-archaeologist or something?”

  Shana had been getting away with those types of subtle digs on guys for years, so long as she smirked with sleepy eyes and a slight dimple when she delivered them. Leon had always admired the self-assuredness of that smile, but sometimes it made him uncomfortable, too.

  Cooper chuckled brightly. “Not even close, just a fan of history. I am a scientist, though. A veterinarian medic to be specific.”

  “Hush up over there!” Ben whispered as he and his men returned.

  “The dwelling appears empty, but appearances can be deceptive. When we go in, we go in fast. Slade, I want you and Gunther in beast mode before we head down there. Leon, I’m only going to ask this once, can you keep that dog quiet? I won’t have him barking and alerting the whole valley down below if things get chippy.”

  “He kept his mouth shut just fine until I told him to do something more last night. He’ll be fine so long as he’s with me.”

  Ben studied them a moment then nodded and marched back to the front of the group.

  The two men he had singled out dumped their gear and shuffled off away from the main party.

  Leon hated to admit it, but he had been curious what a beast mode transition might look like from the moment Ben mentioned it. However, the noise coming from the direction of the two volunteers wasn’t exactly encouraging. There were light groanings and snapping sounds. Luckily, it didn’t take longer than a few minutes for them to return in the same black suits from the night before. Up close it became obvious that they grew several inches taller between when they left and returned.

  Since the sun had fully dipped below the horizon, it was hard to get a feel for the full effect of the change in the dimming twilight. Leon suspected that behind those masks, they had a bit of a wolfman theme going on.

  He saw Shana gawking as well, “So, they didn’t teach you everything you needed to know about this, did they?”

  “No, I mean yes, but what those guys are doing, forcing transitions in the fading light like this is supposedly risky. They say it can be addictive. It can even become a problem for the Bladed, who somehow aren’t subject to the demand of having to change on moonless nights, if they do it often enough.”

  “Chalk it up to another perk from our heritage?”

  “You're starting to get the picture!”

  # # #

  As the team crept around the ridge, Leon held Merle tight to his side and ordered him to hush up. He could see a faint flicker of light from a fire through a slatted opening within the quaint cottage dwelling. The cottage sat nestled within a rock uplift less than two hundred feet down the trail.

  Despite the fast-approaching darkness, most of the group ignored the cottage and gazed in wonder at an absolutely stunning view, further down into a valley. The sun was just below the horizon, but the last of its rays still cast a rosy glow over the wide canyons below. The scene resembled a tropical version of an Arizona landscape. The difference being, in the backdrop of a darkened sky, ocean waves pelted sandy beaches beneath jagged cliffs and the silhouettes of large clusters of giant palms swayed in the evening breeze, punctuating the horizon deeper inland.

  Reed spoke in a whisper. The wind just barely carrying his words to those nearby. “Looks like a prehistoric paradise down there.”

  Leon frowned. To him and his rancher's eye, it looked like a barren, rough place to make a living. A place more apt to be hot and dry than cold and wet, regardless of current conditions.

  Leon only spared a moment to glance over the picturesque landscape. His attention returned once more to the cottage. He was leery of Ben's plan to simply barge in on someone else’s home. Such blatant disrespect of private property simply didn’t sit well within the framework of his rural Texas heritage.

  Unperturbed by any such personal inhibitions and seemingly unaffected one way or the other by the view below, Ben took off for the cottage door before Leon's discomfort had time to simmer and
boil over into another conflict. He almost made it there too…until the reason for Leon's bad feeling stepped out from a deep shadow near the entrance and held up an arm to halt his advance.

  Leon’s curiosity warred with his desire to run and hide at the sight of his first Fayden native. He gave Merle's collar a jerk to let the dog know everything was fine before the first hints of a rumbling growl could fully form in the back of his throat. Then, shrugging off his inhibition, he walked out from the shadows to join Ben and his men. Shana and Reed joined him as well.

  I really ought to find a leash, this could get old fast.

  Vikings, Arabs, and ancient Scottish highlanders all may as well have played a part in lending the stranger before them a very unique and rugged style of clothing attire. It was a combination of cracked leather, homespun linen, and faded earth tone colors that shouted he was from a vastly foreign culture. Leon didn’t need an enhanced sense of smell to tell him the man’s outfit hadn’t been through a washer in quite some time.

  Yet, despite the outlandish wardrobe choices, the man still managed to strike a chord with Leon. His very presence exuded a quiet but confident vibe. Something intangible about the stranger whispered to Leon that the guy could be extremely dangerous.

  Despite the disheveled state of the man’s windswept white hair and sparse beard, he didn't seem unhinged. Dark intelligent eyes peered out from within a worn and weathered face. Those eyes conveyed measured patience as they rove silently from one individual to the next, sizing up the group as a whole. They neither widened nor squinted as they slowly took stock of the outlandish clothing and gear on the individuals assembled before him.

  His relaxed posture gave Leon the impression he was willing to lend them the courtesy of a neutral disposition, but that he would be ready if things went south. His left arm lightly palmed and twirled a small chiseling tool of some sort. He allowed his right hand to rest at his waist, a thumb tucked casually in his belt, inconspicuously close to the hilt of a sheathed blade. Leon did a double-take; the hilt was white bone.

 

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