Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2)

by McCallum, Coral

  Spent, Jake moved to lie beside her, putting a protective arm around her and drawing her close.

  “I love you, Mz Hyde,” he said huskily.

  “Love you too, rock star,” purred Lori sleepily.

  Saturday marked day five of an official heat wave and, as the band prepared to leave JJL, they debated who was driving with whom and whose vehicle had the most reliable air conditioning. Eventually they decided that Jake and Gary would travel with Rich, while Grey and Paul would follow in Grey’s truck. With everything packed into the back of the truck, they set off for the city. It was an easy drive. The highway heading away from the beaches was quiet. As they drove into the city centre, almost two hours later, the traffic quickly grew congested, causing Rich to swear under his breath as he fought his way towards the record company building. It was a relief to finally pull up in the underground parking lot.

  Upstairs on the roof terrace, several small gazebos had been erected to shade the invited guests from the blazing July sun. A slightly larger version had been hastily erected over the small stage. Silver Lake had just enough time to set up and complete a hurried sound check before Jason summoned them to meet the first of the VIPs to arrive. He introduced them to the promoters behind the open air festivals they were scheduled to perform at and also to the prospective promoter for their planned winter trip to the UK and Europe. Having exchanged pleasantries with numerous people, Jake excused himself and went off in search of a quiet space to warm up. He was on his way through the corridors when he met his young sister, Lucy, coming towards him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he hugged her tight.

  “Gary invited me in my capacity as admin for your fan page,” she giggled. “I thought he would have told you.”

  “Fan page?”

  “Yes. It’s been officially linked to the record company. We only set it up online last month, but there are about three thousand fans registered for it so far,” explained Lucy proudly.

  “Show me later, little sister,” said Jake, shaking his head incredulously. “I need to watch the time and I need to warm up. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  When Jake returned to the roof terrace about three quarters of an hour later, his fellow band mates were posing for photos with Lucy, the Philadelphia skyline providing a perfect backdrop. Spotting her brother milling around with the record company suits, Lucy called him over to join them. As he posed for photos, Jake heard a familiar voice call out, “Nice to see you’ve kept your shirt on, Mr Power.”

  It was Dan Crow, lead singer with Weigh Station.

  “Don’t want to get sunburnt,” joked Jake as he shook the older man’s hand. “Are you guys playing today?”

  “No,” replied Dan, with a shake of his tousled head. “We did the 4th of July street party thing. I’m just here to make sure you behave.”

  “Too fucking hot to do anything else.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by Jason, who invited the company chairman to step up to the mic to say a few words. A tall, well-muscled man of around fifty stepped forward, taking the microphone from the Englishman. He spoke eloquently as he delivered a potted history of the record label’s past twenty-one years, highlighting the highs and lows. After about fifteen minutes, he declared that it was too hot to delay proceedings any further and invited Silver Lake to take the stage. The band walked out onto the small platform to a polite round of applause.

  “Good afternoon,” said Jake, stepping forward to the mic. “Damn, it’s hot out here!

  This raised a louder cheer from the small crowd.

  Without further delay, Silver Lake launched into Dragon Song, their loud hard rock music echoing out over the city rooftops. As he sang, Jake could sense the invited guests weren’t wholly appreciative of the heavy, powerful, rock number. As the last notes sailed off towards the Liberty buildings, Jake introduced their second number. “This is the new single from our forthcoming album. You’ll be glad to hear, it’s a lot quieter. This is Out Of The Shadows.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Dan standing beside Lucy, nodding in time to the music, as they premiered the new song. This time the invited audience seemed more engaged and the band were all relieved to see both Jason and the chairman smiling. Knowing that this number was going down well allowed the band to relax a little and enjoy the performance.

  Once the applause faded away, Jake said, “A Silver Lake set always ends with Flyin’ High and this one’s no exception.”

  As the band made to step off stage a few minutes later, Jason came forward and halted them. Quietly, he whispered a suggestion to them, then beckoned Dan forward. Unable to decline under the circumstances, Silver Lake agreed to perform with the Weigh Station front man unrehearsed. The older man came up on stage and, after a few moments of debate, they agreed to play “Simple Man” a classic song they all knew and one that was easy for Dan and Jake to share the vocal chores on.

  “Ok, folks, totally unrehearsed,” joked Jake as he adjusted the mic. “Be gentle with us.”

  Ever the professionals, the four members of Silver Lake, plus their invited guest, delivered a solid version of the Lynyrd Skynyrd classic, earning them a resounding cheer for their efforts.

  “Thank you and good afternoon,” said Jake when they were through.

  He was almost relieved to set down his guitar and to step down from the small stage in exchange for some shade. The blistering heat was searing through him. Lucy was among the first to come over to congratulate them, enthusing about the new single. Hugging her, Jake said, “I take it you liked it then, little sister?”

  “Loved it! Can’t wait to hear the rest of the new album,” she enthused. “When is it out?”

  “We’ve not even finished recording it yet,” laughed Rich, coming over with a glass of juice.

  “Late September,” added Gary, joining the group. “Maybe early October.”

  “That’s months away!” protested Lucy shrilly.

  “Patience, little sister,” teased Jake. “Patience.”

  Looking round, Lucy suddenly asked, “Where’s Lori? I thought she’d be here.”

  “Not this time,” replied Jake, lifting a glass of juice from the tray of a passing waiter. “I think she was planning on working today. She’s got deadlines to meet.”

  Before they could continue their conversation, Jason approached and led Jake and Rich away to meet one of the promoters and his star struck teenage daughter. For the next hour or more, the band mingled with the invited guests, signing autographs, posing for photos and chatting to journalists. All part of the rock and roll game, thought Jake as he finished off another version of the same conversation he’d been having all afternoon. Politely, he excused himself and walked over to where Gary was deep in conversation with a journalist.

  “Ok, time’s up,” said Jake quietly, whispering into the manager’s ear. “Let’s wrap this up.”

  “Give me half an hour,” replied Gary, obviously keen to continue his conversation with the girl in front of him.

  “Ten minutes,” countered Jake bluntly. “Rich and I will meet you back at the car.”

  “Ten minutes,” agreed the band’s manager reluctantly.

  An hour later, Jake hugged his young sister as they said their goodbyes in the underground car park. She had shown him the online fan sites on her cell phone before eliciting a promise from him to share some of his day to day thoughts and photos with her for inclusion on her “official” fan page. With promises to meet up at the end of the month, Silver Lake pulled out of the garage in convoy, waving goodbye to Lucy as they left. It took them a while to negotiate the city centre traffic, but soon they were clear of the chaos and out on the highway.

  “Am I glad to be out of there,” sighed Rich as he concentrated on the road ahead. “There’s a limit to the amount of polite smiling I can deal with in this heat.”

  “Same here,” agreed Jake from the back seat. “Why do I always attract the women wanting hugs and autogra
phs? And kisses and photos?”

  “It’s your striking, good looks, Mr Power,” said Gary in jest. “And your long golden locks.”

  “Don’t forget the twinkling hazel eyes and Power smile,” added Rich with a laugh. “It was the same at school. Female teachers and students loved him.”

  “Cut it out, guys.”

  “Seriously, guys,” began Gary, adopting a more serious tone. “Today was fantastic. Jason is really pleased with that set. I spoke to a couple of potential promoters looking to set up more shows. Painful it may have been but that PR stint will pay dividends.”

  “As long as Lord Jason is happy,” sighed Jake, stretching out. “He’s hard fucking work.”

  “So what’s the plan for tonight?” asked Rich. “Are we eating at your place, Jake?”

  “I’ll call Lori when we are nearer home. We can BBQ. Unless you have a better plan?”

  “Suits me,” answered Rich. “Can’t make it a late one though. Dr Marrs wants us in early again tomorrow.”

  “On a Sunday?” quizzed Gary looking confused.

  “Vocals,” revealed Jake with a sigh. “It’s just the two of us who are in. Apparently he has a plan.”

  “Should I be worried?” asked their manager, craning his neck round to look at him.

  “Relax, Gary,” assured Jake. “He just wants us to try a couple of different vocal styles on one of the tracks, then we’ll get on with the rest as planned.”

  “Where was Scott today? I kind of missed his camera in my face,” asked Rich, changing the subject.

  “Vegas. He’s due back on Monday,” explained Gary. “He had hoped to be back for today, but his project in Vegas ran over schedule.”

  “Then we’ll be one big happy family again,” laughed Jake, glancing back and waving to Grey and Paul in the truck behind them. “I have to admit, it felt good to play live again, even if was hot as hell out there.”

  “Same here,” agreed Rich, drumming on the steering wheel in time to the song playing on the radio. “Three weeks until our first outdoor show of the run.”

  “You guys had better work out the set soon,” warned Gary bluntly. “And remember to include some of the new stuff, but not too much.”

  “Yes, boss,” stated Rich and Jake in unison.

  “I give up,” muttered Gary, pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes. “Waken me up when we reach the beach.”

  Within minutes, the band’s manager was sound asleep, snoring gently under his hat. In the back seat, Jake struggled to get comfortable, his long legs cramped in the confined space. The fresh tattoo on his chest was annoying him too. It was itchy. He had kept it covered over while they had been playing but now reached under his T-shirt to pull off the dressing, unable to tolerate the itch any longer.

  “You got new ink?” enquired Rich, watching his friend struggling in the rear view mirror.

  “Yeah. Saw Danny on Thursday.”

  “Ah, the mystery late afternoon appointment,” mused the guitarist. “What did you get?”

  “I’ll show you when we get to the house,” promised Jake, gently rubbing his chest. “It’s the Silver Lake knot design. Dan did an amazing job on it.”

  “That’s a stunning job he did on Lori’s ankle,” commented Rich. “He’s quite skilful. I could be tempted to pay him a visit.”

  “Very skilful,” agreed Jake nodding. “Ask Lori to show you the photos he gave her. She designed two tattoos for him and he had them done on 4th July.”

  Their easy banter continued as Rich drove down I-95 then onto Route 1, The Coastal Highway. Traffic was in their favour again. The weekend beach visitors had all driven down either on Friday night or early morning. Some of the day trippers looked to have packed up early due to the heat as the opposite carriageway was busy. Jake stole a glance at the thermometer on the dashboard. It read that it was 94F outside, hot even for July. When they reached Dover race track, Jake reached into his pocket for his cell phone. With practiced ease, he called Lori.

  “Hey, li’l lady,” he said warmly as she picked up the call.

  “Hi. How was Philly?” asked Lori brightly.

  “Hot as hell. Great set though. Lucy was there,” answered Jake. “Did you know about this online fan page stuff she’s set up?”

  “Of course,” giggled his fiancée. “Maddy and I helped her. Maddy is the co-admin for it all.”

  “I might have known!”

  “How far away are you?” asked Lori.

  “About an hour at the most. We’ve just passed Dover Downs and the traffic’s been ok so far,” Jake replied. “Can you light the grill in about a half hour?”

  “Sure,” agreed Lori, before adding, “If you want anything other than burgers, can you pick it up on your way in?”

  “Will see what we can do. Need anything else?”

  “Better pick up some beers,” suggested Lori. “And a bag of ice.”

  “Not a problem, li’l lady. See you in an hour.”

  “Love you, rock star.”

  Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Jake sat back and relaxed, watching the scenery go by. In the front, Gary was still sound asleep. It never ceased to amaze him how their manager could sleep anywhere anytime. Cat napping was never something Jake had been good at and he seldom slept in cars or on planes. His mind began to wander back to thoughts of recording after they drove past JJL.

  “Hey,” Jake called through to Rich. “I thought the Blues Brothers back there were stopping to drop off the gear at the studio?”

  “Change of plan. Grey said he’d drive out later on and drop it off,” replied Rich.

  “Ok. I’d better call them and check if they are stopping by for dinner,” sighed Jake, reaching back into his jeans pocket for his phone.

  Quickly he called Paul, exchanging a few playful insults with him before confirming that they were both coming for something to eat, but that neither of them could stay late – family commitments. Jake had to loosen his seat belt to get the phone back into his pocket. He was reaching to grab the belt again when he caught sight of a large, dairy tanker out of the corner of his eye.

  “Rich!” he yelled. “Watch out!”

  The tanker was charging straight through the stop light at the intersection with Route 9. It was charging straight towards them, swaying as the driver tried to make the turn too fast. Heeding Jake’s warning, Rich attempted to swerve out of its path.

  The sickening scream of metal on metal filled the car.

  Like a rag doll, Jake was flung across the back seat, cracking his head off the side window as Rich wrestled with the steering. Howls of tearing metal drowned out everything else.

  In seemingly slow motion, the car slewed across the carriageway, spinning out of control as the weight of the tanker ripped off the front quarter. Engine noise roared, then there was silence.

  The car had come to a stop.

  Dazed and with a hot, fiery pain in his left shoulder, Jake kicked open the twisted door and stumbled out onto the road. In the driver’s seat, Rich was slumped over the airbag, blood running from his forehead onto the white inflated cushion. As he gazed round, searching for Gary, Jake gradually realised the front of the car was missing. Debris from the crash was scattered across the highway. His eyes followed the wreckage, coming to rest on the toppled tanker. Milk was flooding out of its fractured side.

  “Gary!” screamed Jake, clutching his elbow as a bolt of pain shot through his shoulder dropping him to his knees. “Gary!”

  Cars all around on both sides of the highway had come to a silent standstill. No one was moving. As he scanned the wreckage, Jake was vaguely aware of Rich beginning to groan in the remains of the car behind him. Jake’s eyes followed the tracks of broken and bent bits of car like a trail of breadcrumbs. The reality of the scene suddenly hit him. The passenger seat was under the tanker.

  A cold chill descended on the blazing hot highway.

  A hand touched his right shoulder, jolting Jake back to the present. He staggered to
his feet as Grey reached out to steady him.

  “The tanker,” spluttered Jake. “Gary! I can’t find Gary!”

  “Paul’s called 911,” said Grey, his voice remarkably calm. “Are you hurt, Jake?”

  “My shoulder. My ribs,” mumbled his friend, unaware of the blood running down his cheek from a deep cut below his left eye. “Where’s Gary?”

  “Let’s sit you down until the paramedics get here,” suggested the bass player, guiding Jake away from the wreckage.

  “Rich!” yelled Jake, spinning and staggering round out of Grey’s reach. “Where’s Rich?”

  “I’ve got him,” called back Paul from beside the wreckage of the car. “He’s ok, Jake.”

  “Come on,” said Grey firmly, leading Jake over to the side of the road away from the debris. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  Sirens were already wailing in the distance, rapidly growing louder as they approached the scene of the accident.

  Shock was setting in and Jake began to shake uncontrollably as Grey guided him over to the grass verge. Carefully Grey helped his friend to sit down on the short, burnt grass. The movement jolted Jake’s injured shoulder and ribs. He groaned as the pain swept through him, then blacked out, slumping across the grass at Grey’s feet. The next thing Jake was aware of, was the two paramedics working on his shoulder. One of them was trying to explain to him that the shoulder was dislocated and that they were going to attempt to pop it back into place. The pain from the manipulation and his damaged ribs caused everything to go fuzzy then black as Jake lost consciousness for a second time.

  Crouched down on the grass verge, Grey looked on in complete disbelief at the carnage and tragedy that surrounded them. Firefighters and a team of paramedics were over at the toppled tanker working frantically. Another team of paramedics surrounded the car as they worked on Rich. The bass player could see Paul standing watching, his face pale and wet with tears.