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Authors: D Jordan Redhawk

Warlord Metal (4 page)

BOOK: Warlord Metal
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Jordan's eyes narrowed suspiciously and flashed. She stepped forward, invading the teenager's space, only stopping when she was a fraction of an inch from the girl. Emerald eyes bored into frightened blue. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded harshly.

Sonny had a hard time thinking, those eyes demanding an answer, the woman's breath soft against her face. She swallowed convulsively as she rallied her thoughts. "I just.... I just thought you needed a place to crash," she whispered. "And you're a Warlord, now. Warlord's stick together." Her heart was pounding in her chest, wondering what this strange woman was going to do.

"Warlord's stick together." A puzzled look crossed Jordan's face. She stepped back a bit, giving the girl breathing room, amused at the obvious slump of relief. You're a Warlord now. Wouldn't do for the new guitarist to be rolled in an alleyway or something. Kinda defeats the purpose, doncha think? She studied the pale eyes across from hers in speculation. Finally coming to a decision, she said with a faint smirk, "So, what's this room over the garage look like...?"

 

Oct 2, 1998

Whew! Well, I'm still alive, though I had my doubts earlier this afternoon! That Jordan is a real pistol, as my dad would say. Between Tom and I we were able to talk her into staying in the room over the garage. She insisted on paying rent and all, but it's not much - she'll be making plenty to cover it with the band. And it'll be nice to have another female here to back me up against my bratty brother!

Seriously, though, I was a little scared there for a minute. Thought for sure she was gonna take me out! And all I did was offer her a place to stay! Wow! Must be what happens when you spend too much time on the streets. I don't think she's had much in the way of family life. I kind of wonder how long she's been out there.... (Excuse me while I shudder.)

Well, last night's party was an absolute bust. I've forever ruined any chances of dating for the rest of my life. I kneed Jay in the nuts because he was getting too pushy. He might be a jerk, but he's still a cute one. Don't think I'll have to worry about the senior prom in a couple of years. Hell, I don't think I need to worry about the Christmas Dance this year! sigh My social life is ruined!

Why are boys such jackasses sometimes?

 

Black

Sevendust

Voices call, call out my name.. my name ..my name.

They say I'm different, that I'm not the same ..same.

You say you want to be like me.

Well, boy, let me tell you, you don't know what I see.

They say the devil is in my soul -

I promise not to let him take control.

Shadows follow so close behind me.

I look in the mirror , I don't like what I see.

Woah! God can't you help me get outta' here!

I feel like I'm living deep in hell.

 

Chapter 2

Sweet Sixteen

Bottom

Tool

My compassion is broken now.

My will is eroded now.

And my desire is broken now.

And it makes me feel ugly.

I'm on my knees and burning.

My piss and moans are the fuel that set my head on fire.

So smell my soul is burning.

I'm broken, looking up to see the enemy.

And I have swallowed the poison you feed me.

Well, I survive on the poison you feed me and it leaves me guilt fed, hatred fed, weakness fed..

It makes me feel ugly and dead inside.

Shit adds up at the bottom.

If I let you, you would make me destroy myself.

In order to survive you, I must first survive myself.

And I can sink no further and I cannot forgive you.

There's no choice but to confront you, to engage you, to erase you.

I have gone to greath lengths to expand my threshold of pain.

I will use my mistakes against you -there's no other choice.

I'm Shameless now and Nameless now,

I'm Nothing now and No One now.

But my soul must be iron because my fear is naked.

I'm naked and fearless and my fear is naked.

Sonny poured herself another cup of coffee and set up the machine for another pot. The house was quiet since neither of the band members in residence had awakened yet. This is my favorite time of the day, the teenager decided with a grin. All calm, nobody around.... Nice.

Even the cat wasn't anywhere around, having decided to enjoy the lower temperatures of a late summer morning. It was already seventy-five degrees and was predicted to hit ninety-five before the afternoon was through. In anticipation, Sonny was wearing a pair of tan hiking shorts and a white tank top.

With the coffee brewing, she picked up her own cup and padded barefoot into the dining room, resuming her seat at the table. The daily paper was spread out around her. She picked up the local section and began reading. So engrossed in an article about the mayor's latest coup for the city, Sonny didn't hear anything until the soft tapping on the wall by the patio door gained her attention. Looking up, she saw a stranger smiling uncertainly at her.

"Um... hi. Jordan said there was a bathroom somewhere....?" The woman was the epitome of a groupie with tight, short shorts, a stretchy midriff tank top that left nothing to the imagination, long platinum blonde hair and heavy club makeup. The hair was mussed, the makeup smeared, and there was a very evident hickey on her neck at the juncture of her shoulder. She was barefoot and clutching a handbag.

Another one?! That makes it twenty-three now! With practiced nonchalance, she answered, "Yeah, come on in" After the woman had shut the screen door behind her, the dark girl said, "Right through there, around the corner. It's the door under the stairs." She surreptitiously watched the woman leave, comparing her to the others that she had seen over the last ten months.

It didn't appear that the female guitarist had any sort of color preference in either hair or eyes. Sonny had also seen the entire spectrum of skin color. And they were all drop dead gorgeous - at night, in a dark and smoky club - promiscuous and tall. That would put Jordan at about level with.... And she blushed slightly at the imagined sight. "Well, I guess she's a breast woman, then," she muttered, rattling her paper and trying to get back to the article she had been reading. Despite herself, her mind wandered back to when she had figured out why all these women were hanging out in Jordan's room.

The band had played a Halloween gig at the Starlight the previous evening. It had been a private party with three other bands, so even though she was a minor, Sonny was able to attend. While the other bands were pretty good, Warlord was better, in her opinion. But then, it's not like I'm biased or anything! she giggled to herself over breakfast the following morning.

As usual, the morning hours were hers alone. Eventually, her brother woke up and descended to the dining room for something to eat. It was late October, cold and wet outside. The house was warm and the siblings sat at the table and chatted over coffee and cereal.

And then there was a strange woman at the patio door wearing a leather jacket and not a whole hell of a lot else . Middlestead let her in and directed her to the bathroom.

Sonny frowned in thought. "Ya know, that's the third time Jordan's had somebody sleep over. You think that girl's homeless, too?"

The dark man sputtered a bit as he fought to swallow his coffee. He eyeballed his sister carefully. "Um... no, I don't think she's homeless."

"Really? Then why'd she stay the night?" Sonny asked in confusion. "I thought slumber parties were for kids - and I can't see Jordan at one of those."

Middlestead's face turned a nice shade of pink. His darker blue eyes darted around as he tried to come up with a tactful way to explain the reality of the situation to his naive little sister. Unable to come up with one, he finally said, "Well, look, you know about the birds and the bees, right?"

Sonny was puzzled. Why's he changing the subject? "Yeah, I know. I had that talk with Mom and then there was sex ed at school." She chuckled at her brother's obvious discomfort. "But, what's that got to do with anything?"

The man just looked at her, willing her to make the connections.

Pursing her lips, Sonny fumbled mentally with the puzzle pieces. Jordan, strange women, sleep overs, birds and bees.... Pale eyes widened and she stared at her brother. "No way!" she whispered.

"Yes, way," her brother responded with an evil grin. He was smug, embarrassed and relieved all at the same time. At least I didn't have to spell it out for her.

"You mean, she..." and Sonny waved vaguely in the direction of the garage.

"...gets laid more often than the rest of the band put together?" he finished for her. "Yeah." A thought crossed his mind and he spoke again. "Well, maybe not. Lando scores about as often as she does. In fact, last week she and Lando had a little... thing going."

Astonished, Sonny sat back in her chair with such force, it rocked. "Jordan and Lando?!" she demanded incredulously.

Middlestead waved his cereal spoon at her and shook his head. "No, no, no. That's not what I meant. They spent the night at his apartment with a couple of chicks and... uh... shared."

Unbidden thoughts and images assailed Sonny's vision. She blushed furiously and glanced at her up at her brother's chuckle. "Not a word!" she hissed, pointing a finger at him.

Dark blue eyes widened in feigned innocence. He pointed at himself with a questioning eyebrow before dragging his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion.

Sonny shook her head and rattled the newspaper again. Since then, she'd counted a total of twenty-three women in ten months. Most didn't get beyond the initial visit, though there were some who made it to two. Only four women had slept with the guitarist three times - not necessarily in a row. And no one made it past the third visit. Three strikes, yer out.

Occasionally at rehearsals, a familiar face would show up on the arm of Lando Atkins, the band's other insatiable guitarist. The dark girl had been intrigued at the absolute disinterest displayed by the woman to her prior bedmates. It's like they don't even exist! And the looks of longing shot towards the rainbow haired rocker left Sonny wondering exactly how good was she?

Shrugging off her thoughts, she returned to her article, hearing the downstairs shower start up. Minutes passed. Eventually, the shower was shut off and Sonny moved onto another article. The slight noise of a boot scraping concrete drew the dark girl's attention outside.

Jordan was seated on a bench outside, smoke from her cigarette sending wispy tendrils skywards. She was dressed in baggy black shorts and a grey sports bra. Her elbows were on her knees and she was staring into the distance. On her left upper arm was a tattoo - gleaming silver claws slashing a black hole and red eyes glaring insanely out. It was if a beast was trying to rip its way out of her soul. Her boots were still green, but her hair was currently the shade of a bird's egg - eggshell white and speckled with baby blue.

Sonny had never seen the woman with a full head of normal colored hair. She knew that Jordan was a redhead because of the rich golden hue that would grow out close to the scalp. The teenager had complimented her on the color, dropped hints and, finally, nearly begged for her to let it grow out. And every six weeks or so, the woman would get a trim and dye her head some other god-awful color. Last time it had been brilliant red, like Ronald McDonald's.

The teenager liked these occasional moments, when she was able to see Jordan without the tough dyke posturing. When the woman was off in her own little world and unguarded. She's got a nice profile, Sonny mused. But always so serious. Almost sad. She watched the woman toss her cigarette butt into a nearby coffee can and rise in a fluid, full body stretch, admiring the way the rocker was built. And then Sonny's eyes looked into emerald fire. Uh oh! Busted! Her heart pounded and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

Jordan saw the teenager and the mask dropped firmly into place. A slight knowing smile crossed her face and she raised an eyebrow in mute challenge. As expected, Sonny turned redder and ducked behind her newspaper. The woman chuckled as she combed fingers through her hair. After a final glance around the back yard, allowing the dark girl inside to compose herself, the guitarist entered the house. "Morning."

"Morning," Sonny mumbled from behind the Metro section, still embarrassed at having been caught staring.

A grin flitted across Jordan's face as she went into the kitchen and prepared a cup of coffee. Damn, she's fun. The woman rummaged around in the refrigerator, finally pulling out a bowl of grapes that she put on the breakfast bar. With coffee in hand, she leaned a hip against the end of the bar and drank, watching the rattling newspaper. "Anything interesting going on in the world?" she drawled.

Pale blue eyes peered over the top of the paper at the smaller woman, looking for any sarcasm. Finding none, Sonny said, "Some. There was another shooting in North Portland last night. The police say it's gang related."

Weird colored hair nodded solemnly. A grape was eaten.

Encouraged by the lack of a snide response, the dark teenager continued. "And they're trying to find funding to re-open Outside In. That's a youth services organization that concentrates on runaways," she explained.

Emerald eyes flashed briefly before becoming mild once again. "I know what it is," was the bored response.

"Oh." Sonny shrugged. "Well, that's about it today," she finished lamely.

Jordan sighed, an insistent stab of conscience attacking her. Shit, give the kid a break, Jordie! She's never been anything but kind to you and you know you don't deserve it! The woman popped another grape into her mouth. "Save the crossword, okay? Maybe we can work on it after rehearsal today."

BOOK: Warlord Metal
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