Defiant Souls

Defiant Souls

by Kathleen Chadwick
Defiant Souls

Defiant Souls

by Kathleen Chadwick

Paperback(First Printing ed.)

$20.95 
  • SHIP THIS ITEM
    Temporarily Out of Stock Online
  • PICK UP IN STORE
    Check Availability at Nearby Stores

Related collections and offers


Overview

When Kyle Chase accepted his Aunt Cindy’s invitation to spend his summer vacation with her, he thought they would be exploring old caves, looking for arrow heads, and honing his skills as a young Archeologist. He never dreamed the fate of the world would rest on his small shoulders. Kyle, his aunt and a small group of travelers have been imprisoned by a mad-man.

Man’s arrogance has opened a doorway of evil and it’s up to Kyle to close it. He will need to trust in his sixth sense, strength, and intellect to escape and find the one man who can help him destroy the evil that holds them captive.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781612969411
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Publication date: 10/09/2017
Edition description: First Printing ed.
Pages: 330
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.74(d)

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

To some, panhandling is an art form, and Willie felt he was in the presence of greatness. Jack practiced this art with excellence and poise. It was his true medium. Traveling down the California coastline, out of work and homeless, Jack incessantly amazed Willie by using his technique to score enough money for a place to sleep and a hot meal.

However, with its glitz and glamour, the Vegas Strip wasn't the place to be homeless. High rollers never heard of spare change, which was why they were labeled as such. As Willie watched Jack work the crowd, he felt sorry for him. Unrelenting rejections took their toll. He never knew Jack to have so much difficulty convincing people to release some of their good fortune.

Frustrated, Jack gave up. "I can't believe these people," he said, sitting beside Willie. He removed his baseball cap, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His hair, soaked with perspiration, left a wet trail down the back of his shirt.

Over the past few years, Jack's perception of society in general made him angry. It was ironic that while the world was so eager to leave them jobless, homeless, and without a penny to their names, it was just as eager to dismiss them as less than human beings. People looked past and through them, not wanting to acknowledge that such life existed and unwilling to believe they had gone beyond the boundaries of humanity and leaving behind a society of fear and uncertainty.

It wasn't their fault the economy went belly-up. Money-hungry corporate executives had seen to that. If it hadn't been for the so-called executives running the construction company he and Willie worked for, they wouldn't be in this mess. He, Willie, and the rest of the crew silently watched, as the corporate execs sold off the company a piece at a time.

Not only had the economy gone sour, so had society. People lost all compassion for their fellow man. "It was just good business," the execs told them, handing them their last paycheck.

Jack lowered his head, shaking it slowly. "They don't even see me," he whispered.

"Oh, they see you all right." Willie laughed. "They're just ignoring you."

Glancing down the street, Jack saw a tall man standing on the pavement, staring at them. Watching the man, Jack felt he spent too much time in the sun. His mother always told him, "Stay out of the sun, Jackie. You'll get the stroke."

Perhaps that was it. A little heat stroke was setting in. The pedestrians moving up and down the street seemed to pass through the man as if he were invisible, leaving behind a ripple, like a pebble-on-water effect.

Jack shook his head, scrunching the brim of his old, tattered ball cap between his hands. He ran his fingers through his long, blond hair, threading it through the little square opening in the back of the cap and positioning it on his head.

He stood, tucking his white T-shirt into his blue jeans. "I'll take one more shot," he whispered, walking toward the man. "Excuse me, Sir. Would you happen to have a smoke?"

The man reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros, handing it to Jack. "Keep the pack." "Gee, thanks, Mister." Jack opened the pack and looked at the man. "Oh ... do you have a light?"

The man chuckled and stuck out his hand. Like a performer in front of a captive audience, he flipped his hand, revealing nothing was up his sleeve, then he flicked his thumb with his forefinger, and a small yellow flame appeared at the top of his thumb.

"Look at that!" Jack laughed in amazement. "Hey, Willie. You gotta see this."

Willie ran up and found Jack lighting a cigarette off the man's thumb. Willie scratched his head absently, almost childlike, as he studied the man. He was tall and well dressed, sporting a three-piece suit with a blood-red tie. His eyes, and his entire face, were dark and mysterious. He had slicked-back black hair with a touch of distinguished gray on the temples. Willie wondered if the man was a headliner at one of the shows in a nearby hotel.

"Are you some kind of magician?" Willie asked.

The man chuckled again. "It looks like you fellows could use some help."

"You could say that." Jack watched traffic whiz past. "We've been laid off for some time. We've been traveling around to find. ..."

The man waved his fingers in front of Jack's face, and he paused, swaying on his feet, trying to shake himself from a daze.

"Trying to find something. ..." He said confused.

"I'll tell you what," the man said. "Why don't you two come with me?"

Willie stared, wondering if the man were nuts. He'd been on the road long enough to know he couldn't trust just anyone. He once saw a man befriend another, gain his trust, and a few days later, bash in his head with a rock for a few lousy bucks. Life was hard on the road.

"What for?" Willie asked.

"You need to eat and a place to stay," the man said, "and perhaps a bath." He waved his hand in front of his nose. "Besides, I need your help. I'll see to it that you'll never want for anything again."

Jack looked at Willie and shrugged. "What we got to lose? We have nowhere else to go. I'd sure like a square meal, and he's right." He sniffed his armpits. "We need a bath."

Lacking any obvious signs of intelligence, Willie took a few moments to weigh the pros and cons of this new proposal. Jack was the brains of the pair. Whenever a decision about their immediate future was in question, Willie trusted Jack.

However, he wasn't sure he trusted the man in the three-piece suit. Something about him struck a nerve. Willie wasn't sure why, but the situation seemed strange. Why would a complete stranger want to help them? They'd been on the road for a while, and not once had anyone given them such an appealing offer, or any offer, for that matter. Jack was probably right. Probably? Hell, he was always right. The past few days in Vegas were less than eventful. The only good thing that happened to them was the not-so-used clothes they picked up at the Goodwill. The possibility of starvation weighed heavily on his mind.

Willie smiled slowly and agreed. "Okay."

"Excellent," the man said. "We need to hitch a ride north, but that shouldn't be a problem."

Jack and Willie followed the man to the edge of town. As they passed a small alley between two elaborate hotels, they heard noises coming from crates at the far end.

The man stopped at the entrance of the alley, and suddenly, two men stood from behind the trash.

"Hey!" Jack shouted. "What you doin'?"

Joe and Bill looked up and saw three men blocking their only escape route from the alley.

"Fuck off!" Bill shouted.

The stranger walked forward a few steps, his eyes beginning to glow. "Do you fellows want some help?"

Frightened, Bill jumped behind Joe.

"We don't need your help," Joe said. "We're doing just fine."

"Oh, I can see that." The man walked closer. "Why don't you come with us? I can offer you everything you've ever dreamed of."

The man waved his fingers in the air, and Joe swayed on his feet. Bill grabbed Joe's arm and shook him.

"Joe? What's wrong?" Bill glanced nervously between Joe and the three men at the end of the alley.

"Nothing." Joe focused his gaze on the man. "What makes you think we'd want help from you?"

The man spread his hands. "Maybe I was wrong." He turned and walked back toward the street.

"Wait a minute," Joe called, following the man.

Bill grabbed Joe's sleeve. "What the fuck you doin'?" he whispered. "Let him leave."

Joe pulled free, tearing his sleeve in the process. "I mean, I might be interested." He slowly approached the man.

The man stopped, turning back toward them. "Okay, then. Follow me." He walked back down the alley. "This is Willie and Jack."

Willie and Jack stared at each other for a moment, then nodded at the newcomers. Replaying their conversation through his mind, Jack couldn't remember introducing themselves to the man. Not only did he seem to be a magician, but he was also a mind reader.

The two new men nodded at Willie and Jack. Willie's carrot-red hair bobbed, as he nodded back, then he gave them a toothy grin. Jack studied the men. They looked as if they'd been on the road a lot longer than he and Willie.

Their jeans were faded and worn. Joe had a tattered red-and-black plaid shirt stuffed into his jeans. Bill wore a faded T-shirt with the words Shit Happens stenciled on the front. Jack smiled slightly and nodded, tipping the brim of his cap.

"There's a truck stop not too far from here," the man continued. "We should be able to hitch a ride from there." "Ride to where?" Willie asked.

"North."

"Excuse me," Joe asked, "but do you have a name?"

The man stopped and faced them, his eyes glowing like fire. "You may call me Damon," he said in a low, thunderous voice.

Captivated by the sight, the men stared into his eyes for a moment, then each one knelt before him.

"This is just too easy," Damon whispered softly.

* * *

They arrived at the truck stop late in the evening. Several trucks were parked in a neat row, while their drivers enjoyed a late-night supper. The group entered the café, and Damon stood in the middle of the dining room. He cleared his throat and held up two hundred-dollar bills.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen," he said. "I have two hundred dollars for the person who's willing to give us a ride north." The truckers glanced at each other.

"Any takers?"

After a few moments, a large man with a full, red beard stood and studied the five men. Their well-dressed leader had a certain presence the trucker never felt before. It was desolation. Nevertheless, two hundred dollars was enough to make him overlook the disparity.

"Hell, I'm headed north. You can ride with me, but you'll have to ride in the back."

Damon handed the man the bills. "Excellent. When are you leaving?"

The trucker held the bills to the light and rubbed them with his fingers, checking for fresh ink, before shoving them into his shirt pocket. "Right now." He gulped down the last of his coffee and belched.

"What's your name?" Damon asked.

"Don." He tossed a five-dollar tip onto the table.

Damon handed him a map. "Don, we need to take this road." He pointed at a deserted highway in the middle of the desert.

Studying the map, Don laughed. "Why the hell would you boys want to go there? There's absolutely nothing on this route."

Damon waved his fingers in front of Don's face. "We just need to get there," he whispered.

Don swayed for a moment, then shook his head. "Whatever you say, man. Let's go."

The five men followed him to an empty cattle truck and climbed into the back. Don honked his horn twice before pulling away from the truck stop and heading north.

Without a word, the five found places on the truck floor and fell asleep. Damon watched his new followers with wonder. Were they the men to help him on his quest? They were rough around the edges, but he could mold them to his liking.

Slowly, he grinned. His long-awaited plan was beginning to unfold, and the prospect of finding the one man to help him succeed was within his grasp.

* * *

Hours later, Damon looked through the slats of the frame on the truck and woke the men. He pounded on the cab, and Don pulled onto a gravel road that veered northwest of the highway and stopped. The men climbed down.

Damon walked to the driver's window. "Thank you very much."

Don drove through the small median between the highway and gravel road until he reached the blacktop of the highway, then he honked and waved, as he left them standing in the middle of a small intersection in the desert.

"Now what?" Bill asked. "We're in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

Damon scowled at him, then pointed to a dirt road stretching west. "You'll find a sign in those bushes. There are wooden braces for it, too. Set up the sign across this road. There's also a flashlight. Make sure you get it." Going to the bushes, the men uncovered a sign with DETOUR written on it in large letters. They set it on the braces and placed it across the gravel road.

"What if someone finds it?" Jack asked, testing the flashlight by flicking it on and off quickly with his thumb.

Damon rolled his eyes, taking the flashlight from Jack to stop the incessant clicking. "I'm counting on it." He turned and pointed west. "Follow me." The men stared at each for a moment, wondering what they'd gotten themselves into, then shrugged and followed.

* * *

They traveled all night in silence, not questioning where they were headed and not really caring.

The desert night air was cold. Jack, glanced at the others, and saw them walking with their heads down, arms inside their shirts, hugging themselves for warmth. Jack fought to keep his jaw from clamping shut with a quiver. He realized if he double-timed his step, the cold wasn't that bad.

He wondered if they'd been too hasty in accepting Damon's offer. Soon, the sun would rise, bringing another possible danger. How far into the desert were they supposed to follow Damon? Without water or shelter, they'd die.

The sun slowly rose, and the welcome warmth increased, along with Jack's anxieties.

* * *

Finally, at nearly two in the afternoon, by Jack's recollection, Willie stopped and sat on a large boulder in the middle of the road. Sweat poured down from his temples, stinging his sunburned face. "I ... I can't go on," he said, gasping. "I need water."

Damon stared at him for a moment, as if ready to scold him, then he pointed at the side of the road. The earth rumbled under their feet, making it difficult to keep their balance, as dirt rose into a small mound. Water gushed from the top, forming a small pool. The four men raced to the new spring, pushing and shoving to quench their thirst.

After drinking his fill, Joe stood and walked to Damon, wiping his face with the front of his shirt. He collapsed before him, kissing his hand. "Master, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."

Damon caressed Joe's face with one boney hand. Without a word, he glanced at the men, then nodded and waved for them to follow.

As night fell, they welcomed the cool desert breeze bringing relief to their sunburned bodies. Jack noticed a pack of coyotes joined them after sunset. Walking near Damon's side, he nervously watched the pack over his shoulder. Jack wasn't sure of Damon's power, but after the recent exhibition of strength, he felt safer near Damon than walking alone. He didn't think the coyotes would venture closer, but he wasn't willing to risk it.

Suddenly, Damon changed direction and walked to the side of the road. The four men fell to their knees, suffering from exhaustion and sunstroke. As Damon spread his hands, the desert floor glowed yellowish green. The men watched in awe, as a small town appeared.

Damon smiled at them and pointed. "You'll know what to do."

Jack turned on the flashlight, and they proceeded down the steep slope leading to the town. Damon quietly watched, as they entered the town. He spread his hands again, and darkness swallowed them.

Turning, he headed back the way they came. As he walked through the cool desert night, he saw the desert predators following at a safe distance. He smiled, knowing he would soon be ruler over all.

CHAPTER 2

From early childhood, Kyle Chase was fascinated with ancient civilizations and their cultures. His dream was to finish school, go to college, and become a world-renowned archeologist. Going to Egypt and finding the hidden tomb of an ancient pharaoh or his queen would make him famous.

His parents, however, didn't share his enthusiasm. They wanted him to become a doctor or lawyer.

"You take too many chances with your life," his mother said. "You'll never get rich digging up old bones."

When Aunt Cindy invited him on her next adventure, he was ecstatic. He spent weeks gathering the necessary equipment — hiking boots, canteen, digging tools — everything he might need for an excavation.

"Aunt Cindy, are we lost?" he asked.

Cindy slowed to maneuver her Toyota truck around a large boulder in the middle of the dirt road. "Kyle, drop the aunt bit," she grumbled.

"My mom said. ..."

"I know what she said, but we're pals, right?"

"I guess. Mom said it's disrespectful."

Cindy looked at his sweaty face and smiled. "Look, Bud, you make me feel like an old spinster when you use Aunt before my name. Let's just leave it at Cindy, Okay?"

"Okay," he whispered. He stared at her for a moment before asking, "Well?"

Cindy slowed to miss another boulder. "Well what?" She bit her lip, narrowly missing the boulder with the side of the truck.

"Are we lost?"

"I don't think so, Sweetie. We'll be out of this pretty soon." At least, she hoped so. She kept trying to convince herself there was no reason to worry. Around the next corner, she kept hoping to see a paved road leading to somewhere, anywhere, other than the dusty, desolate road they were traveling.

(Continues…)



Excerpted from "Defiant Souls"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Kathleen Chadwick.
Excerpted by permission of Black Rose Writing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

From the B&N Reads Blog

Customer Reviews