Fire Wind Read online

Fire

  Wind

  Book One

  of

  The Wind Drifters

  Guy S. Stanton, III

  Words of Action

  Copyright © 2015 by Guy S. Stanton, III.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

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  Fire Wind / Guy S. Stanton, III. – First Edition.

  Available Books

  The Warrior Kind Series

  Book 1: A Warrior’s Redemption

  Book 2: A Warrior’s Journey

  Book 3: A Warrior’s Legacy

  Book 4: A Warrior’s Return

  Book 5: A Warrior’s Revenge

  The Agents for Good Series

  Book 1: Agent with a History

  Book 2: Agent for a Cause

  Book 3: Agent out of Time

  Book 4: Agent in the Dark

  Book 5: Agent on the Run

  Book 6: Agent finds a Warrior

  Water Wars Series

  Book 1: Journey into the Deep

  Book 2: The Proverbial War

  Book 2: The Quest for Paradise

  The Wind Drifters Series

  Book 1: Fire Wind

  Book 2: Ice Wind

  Book 3: Hard Wind

  Book 4: Rift Wind

  Book 5: Drift Wind

  Fire Prophets Series

  Book 1: The Way

  Book 2: The Truth, Coming Soon

  Book 2: The Life, Coming Soon

  Non-series Books

  The Kingdom

  Fallen Ambitions

  Dedicated to one of my

  favorite authors of all time

  Louis L’Amour.

  Chapter One

  Unwelcome Discovery

  Lightning flashed among the peaks and thunder concussively rolled down the valley in a continuous echo of sound. Staring out into the rain choked night, I smiled, this was my kind of weather.

  I’d always liked storms, even as a kid. Now as I watched the storm crash about me it seemed as if each lightning strike was in a war to outdo the one before. It was quite the show.

  My eyes drifted to an area where I’d seen movement during one brief flash of lightning. With my full attention I studied the dark area of the night from where I’d seen the movement.

  I waited for another flash of lightning, gun already in hand.

  The stark landscape lit up again and I saw the source of movement better this time. It was an indian, a woman, and she was dragging something.

  The way she was headed she’d miss the spot where I was holed up.

  I glanced around the dry enclosure of projecting boulders that I was nestled in. The half cave at the back was barely enough for me and my horse, but it was dry. I looked back out and with another flash of color I could see that it was an old man that she drug along the ground.

  They were nothing but trouble for the asking.

  The woman was about all done in. It wasn’t much further after that thought that I saw her slip down to her knees in the mud.

  The despair in the forward slump of her shoulders said it all.

  I looked down. That wasn’t a good look to be seeing on anyone. It almost made me feel………. feel something for an indian.

  I looked up again and saw more movement in the rain, only this time it was a party of riders. I’d holstered my gun at some point, but now I went to my gear on the ground and pulled my rifle free.

  Stepping back out to the stone overhang I sighted down the barrel of the repeater on the lead rider coming up on the still kneeling woman. It was hard to see and I waited for a flash of light, but none seemed to come.

  Then it flashed and I saw the riders converge on the woman, who had given up all attempt to drag the old man any further. She turned about on her feet in order to face her fate head on at the hands of the cowboys, who were already hooting and hollering in anticipation of what they thought was to come.

  Indian or not, no woman deserved what was coming. The night flashed as clear as daylight and I squeezed the trigger.

  The rifle bucked against my cheek and a rider with a drawn handgun about to fire into the body of the old man on the ground jerked and then fell out of the saddle. In consternation the other three riders milled around in search of the threat that I posed them.

  Lightning flashed again and I fired. Flashed again and I let off two more fast shots.

  Another rider was down and the other two, one of which clutched at his arm, had enough and took off. The woman was looking around in startlement and with a sigh I stepped out into the downpour and made my way towards the pair.

  The woman looked on fearfully as I approached, but I paid her no attention. Walking around I kicked at the two men on the ground to ascertain if they were dead or not. They were.

  Two more to add to the growing list. Would the list ever end?

  Doubtful, as there were always more that needed killing it seemed. I turned to the pair on the ground.

  The woman knelt behind the head of an older indian with the whitest hair that I’d ever seen on a man. Though he was old he still possessed the athletic look of a much younger man.

  The appearance of vigor or not there was little to be argued with a bullet wound through the leg. Kneeling down I studied the wound more closely.

  Peering under the strip of leather wrapped around the man’s thigh I saw tree moss. That was curious.

  Looking up to the old man I heard him say, “Stops the blood and there’s no fever later.”

  I blinked in surprise at the man’s perfect usage of the English language. Very curious indeed.

  The woman cried out and pointed at something over my shoulder. Turning I saw a group of at least twenty riders backlit by a sudden flash of lightning on a rise not too far from us.

  Not good! Being out here in the open especially not good!

  Turning to the old man I hauled him forward and slung him over my shoulder. Rising up I held onto him with one arm only to stoop down in order to reach for my rifle still laying on the ground.

  The woman grabbed it up and handed it to me and I took off at a run with her following close beside me. Bullets began ricocheting off boulders all around us, even as I saw mud kicked up into the air to either side of me, while being splattered with it from behind.

  The woman cried out and half turning I saw her start to fall forward as her hands clutched at her hip. I dropped the rifle and reaching forward I caught a hold of her leather dress at the neck and drug her along after me.

  The old man was starting to slip, but I’d made it to the safety of the enclosure of boulders and dumping both my burdens to the dry ground I ran back out into the dark for my rifle. The only problem was that it was dark and about two inches of mud covered the ground.

  Lightning flashed and I saw the dull glint of the rifle’s receiver half buried in mud. D
odging forward I grabbed it up.

  Straightening up I was driven backward to land laid out in the mud with all the breath knocked out of me. Desperation drove me to my feet and back into the safety of the boulders, even as bullets smacked into the ground where I had just been.

  Wiping at the mud in my eyes I brought the rifle up to sight down it on the horsemen fast approaching the overhang with all guns blaring. I pulled the trigger, but the rifle didn’t respond.

  My hand felt at the receiver in the darkness only to feel that it was all smashed up from where it had taken a bullet meant for me. Cursing I threw the rifle aside and drawing my handgun I took aim on the lead rider.

  I almost dropped my gun though as a spinning orb of light came out of nowhere to hover above the approaching party of riders and pulse brightly. Light lit the night up as it was given off by the glowing orb that flashed color more vibrant than any lightning streak I’d ever seen.

  The men’s horses went wild and I saw the group of ashen faced riders take off in every direction as fast as they could go. The spinning orb pulsed and then it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

  The night was dark again and devoid of light other than that which nature came by honestly. Feeling profoundly shaken I made my way back into the overhang enclosure.

  Numbly I holstered my gun and felt around for the wood that I had set out to make a fire with earlier in the afternoon. Finding the dry pieces I set the fire up and reaching forward I felt at my saddle bags and pulled free a tin of matches.

  Striking the match off of a rough faced rock I held it sheltered from the wind by the cup of my other hand around it. I lit a small pile of dry pine fluff that I’d pulled from a deadfall tree.

  The fire came alive and I fed it until a bright blaze illuminated the enclosure of the overhang. My horse glanced curiously at me and then at the other two occupants of the space.

  The old man had pulled himself up against the back wall of the cave and other than the look of restrained pain on his face he appeared to be alert enough, but the woman was not so good. She lay as I had dropped her.

  Going to her I found where the bullet had entered at the hip, but it hadn’t come out. I looked up to the old man as I pulled my knife free. He said nothing as I cut into the leather of her dress at the point of the bullet’s entry.

  Blood was everywhere. Swallowing I looked at all the blood for a moment not sure what to do.

  I cut the dress a little more and when I did my finger slid across something. Looking closer I felt again at an upraised bit of flesh. It was the bullet.

  It must’ve ricocheted off of her pelvis. It needed to come out.

  Glancing upward I gestured to my one saddlebag, “Can you toss that here?”

  The old man leaned to the side painfully and grabbed up the saddlebag and tossed it to me. Catching it I pulled one of my shirts from it and began to wipe at the blood.

  I pulled out a bottle of whiskey that I kept for special circumstances, mainly when I didn’t want to remember anything. Pulling the cork free I took a gulp of the whiskey that burned like fire and then I doused it all over the wound before me liberally.

  Thankfully she was unconscious and didn’t move. I sure would’ve.

  Pouring more whiskey onto the blade of my knife I then extended it further towards the fire. With a poof of fire the blade burned brightly for a moment before flaming out.

  Bringing the knife up I held it by the blade as I used only the lower portion of the foot-long Arkansas toothpick to make a small slit in the woman’s flesh. More red blood spilled out and I made another slit to form an x.

  Pressing with the fingers of my one hand to either side of the wound I squeezed even as I dug the tip of the knife into the wound. I felt the bullet and levering the knife to the side I watched the bullet pop free of the wound with a gush of blood.

  What was I going to pack the wound with?

  My shirt was far from being clean even to start with before all the blood that it was now caked with. The old man was gesturing to a pouch that lay half under the woman.

  Pulling it free I found it full of the spongy tree moss that I’d seen the old man’s wound packed full of. Grabbing a handful of it I packed it into the back entry wound and then getting more of it I stuffed the wound that I had made.

  Taking my shirt I slipped it under the woman by briefly lifting her and then adding more of the moss I tied the shirt off tightly over both wounds. Glancing up to the old man I saw him smile approvingly and say, “Thank you!”

  There was just something odd about his grasp of my language and nodding slightly I backed out of the enclosure. It was still raining and I held my hands under a runoff fountain of water that sheeted down off the boulders overhead.

  My hands clean I washed at the mud on my face. Holding my hands to my closed eyes for a moment I asked the question of myself of why I’d gone and involved myself in the plight of a couple of indians.

  There was no answer other than that I didn’t hold with the mistreatment of a woman and that was what I had put a stop to. That whole ordeal aside what had that glowing orb thing been about?

  I’d never seen the like of it, let alone heard of such a thing. Why had it come when it had? What was it?

  There were no answers to be had of the night. Turning from the rain laden night I stepped back into the warmth of the fire light in the enclosure beyond. I came to a dead stop as my eyes took in the opposing wall of the enclosure for the first time.

  The wall had cave drawings depicted all over it. How had I missed it before, when I’d made camp this afternoon?

  Though crudely done there was no mistaking the orb like structures that had rays pointing off of them as if to replicate the rays of light that I had seen. Dry mouthed I let my gaze fall to the old man, who was watching me knowingly.

  Gesturing to the pictures above his head and then with a jerk of my thumb towards the enclosures entrance I asked, “You know what that thing was?”

  The man nodded but asked instead, “Would you have something to eat?”

  Blinking I nodded and moved forward toward my saddle bags. Digging into the saddlebag I brought out some jerky and holding my arm out I reached to offer it to the old man, only he wasn’t there! The woman was gone to!

  Pulling my gun I backed up to the cave entrance and glanced out into the night. A flash of lightning showed me nothing. Almost nothing.

  Pressing back against the stone I watched as an invisible structure lifted off the ground. I said invisible because I saw nothing, but the falling rain was pounding on something and sheeting rivulets of water were running off in a described pattern.

  I was about to fire at it, when a hand closed over my shoulder. Pulling free of its grip I pulled off to the side and was on the verge of pulling the trigger when I saw it was the old man.

  “How the………?”

  “Be silent!” The man whispered.

  My words stopped, but I kept the gun where it was. My eyes were drawn back to the invisible object that the rain was continuing to sheet off of. It was now moving off towards the fallen bodies on the rain soaked plain.

  It paused over top of them and I saw a red light appear that fell like a veil over top of the bodies. The hovering shape came back to us and the same red light appeared.

  The red shadow went up and then down. It passed right through me!

  What was going on here?

  I turned to the old man, but he held a finger to his lips and I left my question unasked. All of a sudden the invisible was visible as light glowed out into the night.

  It was like the first such orb of light I had seen and yet very different somehow. Not as impressive and somehow malevolent feeling.

  It streaked away impossibly fast then and I was left standing there wondering what on Earth I had just been witness to.

  “What is going on? I breathed out.

  “Your life.” Came my companions answer.

  “What?” I said blankly.

  The ol
d indian smiled before reaching out to touch my chest over my heart, “Taran Collins it is good to have met you. I will see you again.” He said before pointing off toward the West. Then unbelievably he began to walk out into the night unimpeded by any injury!

  “I don’t understand?” I called out, as I stepped out into the rain several steps after him.

  He paused and looked back and I gestured with my gun to the enclosure, “The woman? Your leg? That…… that thing?” I sputtered out for lack of words to describe my cluelessness before I summed it all up by asking, “Is any of this real?”

  “Oh yes! It’s very real Taran. So real that you would be dead now, if you had not intervened like you did.”

  He made to leave and I couldn’t but still clarify what I knew, but couldn’t believe to be true, “The woman wasn’t real?”

  “No, she was not, but your actions were. You would do well to put aside past hatreds and see people for who they are Taran.”

  He started walking out again and I called out, “If I had not saved her you would have let that thing kill me?”

  “Very perceptive of you Taran. We all make choices so choose wisely.”

  “I…….” I talked to nothing, the old man was gone.

  I stood there soaked to the skin utterly shocked by this night’s events. Turning I reentered the enclosure only to see my fire was gone as well as my horse!

  Then like some parlor magician show the fire was back and so was my horse. Ted was looking at me with his ears pricked forward, but seemed otherwise unalarmed by anything going on being out of the norm.

  Everything was not normal. Feeling cold I took off my drenched shirt and laid it out on a rock by the fire. I saw my other shirt laying on the ground still for the most part folded. It didn’t have any blood on it.

  I brought my shaking hand up to my face and mopped at the cold sweat I found there. Going to my saddlebag I looked for the bottle, but it wasn’t there. Looking to where the woman had lain I saw that it lay on its side completely drained of all its contents.

  Sitting down before the fire I faced the fact that I was going to have to face the events of this night stone cold sober.

  Why had I done what I had? I had no love for indians and yet if I hadn’t stepped into saving them I felt very much that I would be dead right now. The old man had said as much.

  Somehow he had made me invisible and not just me, but an entire horse and a fire!

  How was something like that even possible? It wasn’t and yet I was witness to the reality of it.

  I glanced up to the paintings on the wall. For the most part it seemed as if the stick shaped people were on the run from the orb like machines in the sky. Why had the first orb seemed to be different than the second?