Warlord Metal

Warlord Metal

D. Jordan Redhawk

P.D. Publishing, Inc. (2002)

The heavy metal band, Warlord, is in need of a new guitarist. Only one applicant stands out - a jewel in the very rough - Torrin Smith. She has the ability to make her guitar sing her soul - a sinister and shattered cry.

Sonny Middlestead, little sister to a member of the band, is making her way through high school in accelerated learning classes. Her days are filled with education, her nights with rock and roll. An aspiring journalist, she spends a good deal of her free time writing in her diary.

The two meet - dark and light, anger and love - with both disastrous and remarkable potential. Will Torrin be swept away by her substance abuse, unable to release her fury or accept the brightness of another's heart? Can Sonny find a way to heal a broken childhood, to make up for a lifetime of injustice and hate?

Only time will tell.

Warlord Metal

Chapter 1

Fifteen

Aenima

Tool

Some say the end is near.

Some say we'll see Armageddon soon.

I certainly hope we will.

I sure could use a vacation from this

Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of Freaks.

Some say a comet will fall from the sky,

Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves,

Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still,

Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits.

Some say the end is near.

Some say we'll see Armageddon soon.

I certainly hope we will cuz

I sure could use a vacation from this

Silly shit, stupid shit...

One great big festering neon distraction.

I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied -

Learn to swim.

The long hair cat drowsed in the sunlight filtering through the front window. The afternoon sun was warm on the back of the couch, despite the beginning chill of autumn in the air outside. Here in the living room, however, it was nice and toasty and quiet. With uncanny hearing, the feline's ears twitched, picking up a familiar step. On the front walk, an individual wearing jeans and a tan jacket approached. There was the rattling of keys in a lock and yellow eyes opened to stare at the front door.

It opened and a teenaged girl entered. Attention on the bundle of mail she was sorting through, she absently shut the door with her hip, dropping her backpack nearby. Finding nothing of interest, she let the pile of envelopes and her keys fall onto the end table. Her jacket graced the floor as she disappeared into the kitchen. The cat lifted an interested head, but the refrigerator opened and the sound of a soda opening could be heard. There was an audible sigh from the Maine Coon and she lowered her head to her paws again.

The teenager came back into the living room and made a beeline for the couch. The Pepsi and a bag of Fritos were placed on the coffee table and her lanky frame flounced down onto the couch with a groan. Slightly irritated, the cat sat up with a look of disgust and stretched.

The movement caught the girl's eye. "Hey, Tink," she said in a naturally low voice. She held her hand out to the feline.

"Eow?" the cat asked. She sniffed at the offered fingers. Finding them somewhat acceptable, she allowed a few seconds of scratching under the collar before pulling away.

"Yeah, I know," the teenager said with a grin. She ran long fingers through her shoulder length dark hair. "I'm a rude bitch." She watched the feline wander to the other end of the couch and settle down again.

"You got that right," another voice interjected. A young man in his mid twenties shuffled into the living room, tying the drawstring on his pants. His own dark hair was as long as the girl's and sleep tousled, a dark undergrowth gracing his face. With a yawn, he plopped into a nearby armchair and scratched at his bare chest. "How'd the exam go?"

The teenager adjusted herself, shoving a couch pillow underneath her back to prop herself up. "Alright, I guess, though geometry isn't my strong suit." She leaned over and snatched up the bag of corn chips. "I am not looking forward to trigonometry next year," she said as she munched.

"So... what? A 'B' maybe?" he prodded.

The girl shrugged. "Yeah. Definitely. Maybe I'll luck out and get an 'A-'. Depends on the grading curve."

The man nodded and there was a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the crackle of the chip bag and the crunching of food. He shook his head when the bag was thrust in his direction. "Corn flakes for breakfast, not chips."

There was a snort of laughter. "Schyeah, right. Like you think it's morning or something." She looked pointedly at the watch on her wrist. "It's 3:30. In the afternoon, Tom."

"Crack of dawn." He yawned again and rose, running his hands through his long hair in an eerie echo of his younger sister's earlier movement. On his way into the kitchen, he scooped up the jacket on the floor. It sailed across the room and landed on the girl's head. He chuckled at the resulting squawk as he ducked into the other room. "Pick up your jacket, Sonny," he called.

Sonny Middlestead growled under her breath and tossed her jacket to the other end of the couch. The grey and white cat glared at her and jumped off the furniture, stalking away for quieter and sunnier climes. The teenager picked up the nearby remote control and switched on the television. Parking it on MTV, she rose and retrieved her pack. Algebra sucks!

Sept 23, 1998

I'm sure that Mr. Randolph hates my guts! That stupid article he wanted us to write? He gave me a B-!! Said that I'd obviously plagiarized it! The asshole!! Tom says I should go to the principal and challenge it. I don't know. Doesn't seem worth the hassle in the long run. I've still got to go to his class all year if I want to make it to college. Damn it!

Shelly put a note in my locker. I guess there's a big party in the works in a couple of weeks. Only the most popular kids are going to be there. She wanted to know if I'd go with her. I'm sure I will. Tom won't care. Besides, I'll bet Jay will be there! That'd be so cool! Shelly thinks he's a jerk, but he's a cute one!

I had a dream about Mom and Dad last night. We were out on a Sunday drive and Tom and I were kids again. The road Dad was driving on was getting smaller and smaller and smaller until there wasn't enough room for the car. Rather than turn back, we got out of the car and continued on. Pretty soon, we're walking on this teeny little ledge over a huge cliff. And then Mom lost her balance and fell. Dad tried to catch her and went, too. I was so scared. I couldn't look down, just leaned back against the cliff behind me. I don't know what Tom was doing. And then I saw Mom and Dad again. They were floating in front of me - they had wings like those stupid cartoons, you know? And they smiled at us and waved and then kept on going up.

I woke up pretty scared. I almost got up to go check on them before I remembered that they were dead. So, I watched some of the Christmas videos instead. Fell asleep on the couch. Weird, huh?

The day after tomorrow are the auditions. Tom said I could come along and watch. It's too bad about Chris having to leave the band. He was a pretty good guitarist. Oh, well. Maybe they'll find an even better one!

Gotta go!

"So, can I take that Women's Lit class this winter?" Sonny asked her brother.

Middlestead steered the beat up Honda through traffic. "I dunno, Sonny," he began, only to be cut off.

"I can pay for it! That's no problem," the dark haired girl insisted. "I've still got that money from babysitting last year. And since I'm a resident, the cost per credit is cheaper."

The man grimaced and shook his head. "Money's not the issue, sis. The trust fund will cover your education."

Sonny's dark brow furrowed. "Then what is it?"

Her brother shrugged. "I just think you're pushing yourself too hard, that's all. You're just barely a sophomore in high school and you're already trying to take college level classes." He pulled to a stop at an intersection and looked over at her with eyes that were a shade of darker blue. "I don't want to see you burn out."

The teenager deflated a bit and looked back out the windshield. "Green light," she murmured.

Reluctantly, Middlestead returned his attention to the road and continued driving. He hated having to tell his little sister no on anything, much less a decent education. But, damn it! When she isn't writing, she's reading! When she isn't reading, she's writing! That can't be a good thing! Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he could almost see the gears working and the smoke pouring out her ears. You might as well just say yes, he told himself. She'll talk you into it anyway.

The man sighed and continued to drive in silence.

As they pulled into the parking lot, the girl spoke up. "Hey! I didn't know Rita was gonna be here!"

Middlestead parked the car and glanced at the woman in question. "Well, she must have come with Chris. I wanted him to look over the new meat." He shut off the ignition and unfastened his seat belt.

"Cool!" Sonny exclaimed, unbuckling her own restraint. "We can sit at the bar and heckle you guys." She tossed an impish grin at her brother and bailed out of the car before he could grab her.

"Now, wait a minute!" the man growled, making the expected lunge. He grinned at his sister's giggle and waggled a warning finger at her. She merely slammed the door with a grin, jogging off to meet the pregnant woman at the entrance to the bar.

Middlestead locked her door while he was there and exited the Honda, securing it behind him. Not that anybody'd want this hunk of junk.... And then he followed his sibling.

A young blond man had joined the two girls. He was tall and thin with closely cropped hair. The pregnant redheaded girl he was wrapped around was laughing as she ran her fingers through the stubble.

"What the hell happened to your hair, man?" Middlestead demanded, reaching out to grasp his friend's hand. He smiled a greeting at Rita.

His friend smiled ruefully and scratched at the buzz cut. "Well, figured they were gonna cut it all off in a couple of weeks anyway." He shrugged. "Might as well get used to the look."

"Yeah, well, we need our toilet cleaned at home. Can I use you?" the dark man quipped.

Sonny swatted her brother on the arm. "Stop that!" Turning to the couple, she continued with a grin, "Never mind Mr. I-Have-No-Fashion-Sense. You look great, Chris."

"Thanks, Sonny."

"And I like it," his girlfriend said, an eyebrow raised at Middlestead.

The dark man raised his hands in surrender, taking a step backwards. "Far be it for me to insult a pregnant woman!"

Sonny rolled her eyes and brushed by her brother, purposely pushing him with her shoulder as she passed. She opened the door to the bar and yelped as she entered. Pale blue eyes glared over her shoulder as she rubbed her rear. "Payback's a bitch, Tom," she warned. "You have to sleep sometime."

Middlestead looked innocently back until she turned in to the establishment. Then he grinned and held the door for the couple.

The bar was quiet, being closed until later in the afternoon. There were a few people lounging around towards the rear by the stage. Most of the chairs were up on the tables and an older man was sweeping the floor. When he heard the door, he looked up, his face lighting. The broom was promptly propped against a table and he stepped forward, arms wide. "Sonny! How are you?"

The teenager gave the bar owner a hug. "I'm great, Lamont. How's business?"

"Not bad, not bad," he responded. "These guys bring in some steady customers on the weekends. Even if they don't know how to play," he concluded with a conspiratorial whisper and wink.

"I heard that, old man," Middlestead growled as he came in. "Are Lando and Max here yet?"

"Yeah." A work worn thumb shot backwards. "They're dumping the recycling from last night. You got some people waiting for you by the stage, too." And then he dismissed the men. "Rita! You're looking wonderful!" He took the two females and escorted them towards the bar. "Can I get you beautiful ladies something to drink...?"

Middlestead stared after the trio. With a sarcastic grin, he said, "Well, hi there, Lamont. I'm fine, Lamont, how are you? Certainly, Lamont, I'd love something to drink."

The blond man with him chuckled and slapped him on the back. "Let's go check out my replacement."

There were eight people lounging on or around the stage area. All had guitars. Most were in street clothes and the standard heavy metal leather jackets, though there was one who was in a button up shirt and tie. It was a toss up which was weirder, the preppy with the tie or the punk rocker kid in the corner with pink and green hair.