Age Twenty One – Riders on the Storm
Lane Guster Woods abhorred music festivals. He loved music. He loved festivals. The idea of enjoying his favorite band outside among nature sounded like the ideal combination of two of his greatest passions. Why then did both of those two things almost always mix like water and gasoline? Was this what getting older did to a person; suddenly there were standards and flaws in the things he once loved that were too glaring to be ignored by the bliss of youth.
“No, it’s twenty dollars. Non-negotiable. Come on, man, there’s a line a mile long behind you,” barked the unshaven youth behind the pop-up counter to a bottled water tent.
Lane fished out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and dropped it on the counter.
“We only take tap,” grumbled the man, scratching his stubble.
With an eye roll that was perhaps over dramatic even for a twenty-one year old Lane, he took out his mobile phone and tapped it to the plastic square on the counter. There was the familiar chirp and chime before Lane swiped the recycled, twelve ounce bottle of water.
“Thanks,” Lane huffed out. He jogged back across the cracked clay and sand covered ground, his combat boots made their impact within the patchwork pattern among the thousands of other concert goers’ footprints. He wore his navy blue tech vent training shorts, his lucky coast guard vest, and perhaps more sunscreen than anyone else at this concert. That was his burden as a ginger: native Welsh heritage from his mother’s side. The sun was not his friend no matter how much he wished it was.
His adopted twin was a different story. Apollena would barely break a sweat even if she stood upon the sunward facing side of Venus. Like the goddess herself, she’d spent the year growing her hair out and now those dark lush curls hung down covering her pert, modest bare breasts. Just for laughs she’d also borrowed a pair of Lane’s navy shorts, but preferred a pair of high top Converse over combat boots. Sometime between arriving in the desert and a few minutes ago, she’d also found an acrylic necklace with a rainbow shooting star pendant hanging from a thin rusted chain. Among her accessories Lane liked the least this weekend was the boy she’d chosen to invite to the festival with them.
They’d both invited dates. Lane had hoped it would just be a family outing while he was on shore leave for the week. An early graduation gift. Unfortunately both his mom and dad were still working overseas. Katrina wasn’t at all interested in roughing it in the desert for a weekend, and Robyn was still in middle school. Lane would have loved to have a weekend just sharing a tent with Apollena like they used to; hiking, camping, and conjuring new spells.
Not this weekend. This weekend Apollena brought a boy.
“Lane, good hustle Coastie,” drolled Shaun.
Shaun spelled his name with a ‘u’.
Shaun was not English.
Shaun was a douche canoe.
Lane could only reply with a tight smile that kept any sarcastic comment from flying out his mouth and slicing Shaun to ribbons. It was weird to feel so much jealousy toward his adopted sister’s latest beau. There hadn’t been a boy or girl for that matter in recent memory that had gotten so far under Lane’s skin to warrant this much animosity. Why did it have to be Shaun of all people? It was only two days and the boy’s mere breathing annoyed Lane beyond measure.
“Did you not want to get anything for yourself then, bud?” Shaun asked.
Apollena elbowed the tall bleached blonde boy in the ribs playfully, “My brother does not serve me unless I ask, and I didn’t ask, darling.” With a voice that almost always danced like a pleasant song with a French lilt, Apollena took another swig from her own canteen. She’d had the good sense to memorize a charm that could be inscribed on a dowsing rod foregoing the need to purchase water. Much like they’d done with their utilities at their family’s New Mexico estate, their primary use for magic was practical; free power, freshwater, and efficient waste removal. Of course, Shaun was not yet privileged to that family secret yet.
Hopefully he won’t stick around long enough to earn such a privilege, Lane thought.
Apollena led the trio back over toward a spot on a dirt hill that sloped up high enough to see over the crowd that had massed in front of the stage. Hundreds of sweaty, naked, mud covered bodies danced under the afternoon sun. The dry heat was almost suffocating, but the scene and sound was pleasant enough to enjoy. Sand and gasoline, Lane repeated to himself. It wasn’t often that ‘The Protomen’ performed outside of the Penny Arcade Festivals and their presence almost completely assuaged every other minor inconvenience that had arisen this weekend. Even the sun had mercifully tucked itself behind the one cloud in the bright blue sky.
“It is a shame Danica is still bedridden,” Shaun lamented halfheartedly, “Hate to see you out here all by your lonesome, bud.” The taller boy continued to sway back and forth with Luna.
Lane ignored the towering blonde boy who’d peeled off his tank top. Glancing over at his sister’s date, envy stung his eyes. The boy was fit-girl pretty: muscles for show. Not for use. Rather, not practical use. Apollena assured Lane that she’d more than make use of them in her own way. It was enough to make him as sick to his stomach as his date currently was.
“Perhaps that lovely loner over there could use some company?” Shaun waved a hand in Lane’s general direction as he continued to sway against the beat.
Lane nearly opened his mouth to suggest he’d prefer the company of fire ants, but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of the girl in his periphery. On the farthest edge of the concert crowd, a young woman with long dark hair stood as sentinel with the same sense of command as the towering red rocks that surrounded the desert canyon. Her eyes fixated on Lane. Before he could even rationalize the gesture, Lane gave the young woman a small wave.
The gesture was not returned.
Curiosity pulled at him like a grizzly’s claw through a salmon. She was the bear and Lane the salmon. His feet plodded forward against the flow of concert goers still flooding toward the stage. The young woman’s gaze was unblinking and her expression indecipherable. As he got nearly within arm’s reach, Lane could clearly see that what he’d thought was an indigo bra and skirt was merely body paint. The only actual article of clothing she wore was a leather belt wrapped around her waist with various glass vials and hide pouches.
“Good afternoon,” Lane said loud enough to hear over the music, but tonally soft enough not to seem impolite. Despite the argument that could be made that to glare at someone from across a concert venue would be seen as the more imprudent action, Lane tended always to err on the side of caution. If it had been Apollena, she’d have had the courage to introduce herself with a kiss. If only he’d thought to borrow her boldness before walking over.
The young woman said nothing, but held her hands out and turned them both palms up.
An invitation? Lane considered.
With a shrug and a smile, the ginger accepted the misread offer, reached out and held both her hands in return to offer an introduction, “I’m Lane. Lane Guster Woods.”
The young woman tilted her head slightly, “I didn’t ask.” She also didn’t let go of his hands while pulling him closer; close enough to press her lips against his ears, “Why have you come here, son of Abigail and Dorian?”
Lane was taken aback, but didn’t let go of the girl’s warm brown hands; “Have we met?”
“It would be in your best interest to answer a question with an answer, rather than a question, eldest son of the Woods Clan,” the woman spoke again, pressing her naked body closer to his. Her hips began to sway, but not with the music on stage.
“I’m here for the concert,” Lane answered honestly, “And you?”
The young woman finally pulled back far enough to search his eyes. Seeing no deception, she frowned and took another step back, “I’m here on behalf of my people who no longer tolerate the presence of tourists on our land. If you are not here to interfere, then I offer you the courtesy of a warning. Leave with your clan. Our quarrel is not with you or your family.”
With that, the woman in indigo turned to leave.
Lane caught her by the shoulder, but not forcefully enough to spin her around.
“Whatever quarrel you have with the concert attendees, I’d like to believe there is an opportunity for a peaceful resolution. May I offer my help to-”
The woman’s arm rose sharply, breaking the contact with Lane, “-No. You may not.”
She kept walking. Each barefoot made no impact within the mud or dirt on the ground. It was as if the young woman simply glided above the earth. Before she was fully out of earshot, her voice rumbled back like thunder to Lane, “It would be a shame for this earth to lose another warrior of peace, swept away in the middle of a battlefield.”
Lane took a few steps forward as another wave of concert goers flooded toward the stage, but in that split second. He’d lost sight of the young woman. His mind raced to unpack the riddle she’d left him with. Clearly a warning with little time to act upon. Spinning on his back foot, Lane raced back to Apollena.
Shaun was still shirtless, the top button on his designer jean shorts unbuttoned as he ground his crotch upon Apollena against the rhythm. Fortunately for Lane, his sister could read the distress in her brother’s eyes to pause her date’s advances.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Ursa Major,” Apollena said unironically. It wouldn’t be far from the first ghost they’d seen.
“Pretty sure she was real, along with the not so thinly veiled threat,” Lane said.
Apollena took a step back from a clearly disappointed Shaun, “Did she give a time frame?” Her answer came in the form of rumbling thunder, neither distant nor majestic; it was a stampede of colossal, vengeful bison closing in, hidden among the darkening clouds above.
“We need to get these people out of here, fast,” Lane commanded.
“Get Danica out of the tent and into the Jeep with Shaun. I’ll give the crowd a fighting chance,” Apollena agreed and broke off into a sprint toward the stage.
Shaun remained bewildered, “Wait a moment now! What’s this about leaving?”
Lane huffed, “Just follow me and give me a hand–”
“-No, wait a minute! I paid good money for this weekend,” Shaun insisted.
Lane’s patience had expired. He reached up and grabbed the yuppie by the shirt collar with surprising force, “You ever tried to stand against a typhoon, Shaun? You ever witnessed men, women, and children all wash out to sea as whole cities were reduced to nothing? In a handful of minutes, the only thing your hard earned money will have bought you is a watery grave. Now shut the fuck up, do as I command, and you might survive what comes next.”
Shaun was speechless, but compliant.
As Lane led the silent blonde boy back to their tent, he could hear Apollena as she hijacked the microphone behind them; “Attention, attention, there is a flash flood warning in effect. Please quickly make your way back to the parking lot and exit the concert area immediately. Do not pack your belongings. I repeat: don’t pack your belongings. Please evacuate in a swift and orderly fashion!”
They’d reached their tent first before the concert attendees fully grasped the concept of what ‘immediately’ meant. Danica, the short, full figured young woman laying on the air mattress stirred. Her shoulder length pink hair hung over her face, matted with sweat. Even plagued by food poisoning, her kind eyes and easy going smile persevered; “Lane, you came back for me. You’re such a sweetheart.”
“We need to go, right now. Let us help you up,” Lane said apologetically. He helped the young girl up off the mattress. She’d shed her shorts, reduced to a midriff t-shirt and cotton-candy colored panties to stave off the heat.
“Is the concert done already? Don’t tell me I slept through it…” Danica bemoaned.
Shaun was surprisingly helpful, actively assisting Danica up and out of the tent. Lane made sure that he had his journal on hand as the crowd of concert goers had already begun to herd toward them. Quick, but less than orderly.
Thick droplets began to fall with menacing weight to each impact.
“Come on,” Lane urged them, “The Jeep ‘s parked in the far end of the parking lot.”
“I’ll wait here,” Danica groaned, “I don’t think–”
“-There won’t be anything here in a few minutes,” Lane urged.
Shaun’s eyes looked genuinely worried.
Danica simply pouted, but nevertheless plodded forward.
“What about Apollena? we can’t leave her behind.” Shaun insisted.
“She’ll meet us at the Jeep. Not to worry,” Lane spoke convincingly enough to fool Shaun. Danica also became increasingly aware of the crowd rushing toward them now. Despite the myriad of disaster situations they’d already survived well before their early twenties, Lane still hadn’t managed to shake that urge to fret over his adopted twin. It wasn’t a lack of confidence in her ability. She had plenty of both ability and self confidence. Apollena was the one person in his life Lane simply wouldn’t know what to do without.
She wasn’t merely a sister, but an irreplaceable partner.
By the time the trio had reached the burnt umber Jeep Liberty, the rain behind the stage had begun to pour down in thick sheets. Blue sky had been replaced by foreboding grey. Progressive indie rock music was substituted by a persisting flow of water streaming down from pitch black clouds. The strobe effect of sheet lighting cast long, panicked shadows. Each deafening crack of thunder elicited a collective scream in the now crowded parking lot.
“Lane,” shouted a Parisian accented voice over the chaos.
Without turning around, Lane’s relief was evident within every molecule of his body. He opened the passenger side door for his sister, then the rear doors for Danica and Shaun. Everyone piled in while Lane slid over the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat.
While he turned the engine over, Lane asked, “Did you have to use a charm to get the crowd to evacuate all in one go?”
Apollena put a hand to her mouth in mock insult, “You doubt my natural charisma? How dare you, brother.”
“Apologies, Ursa Minor. Usually the sheep need more of a gentle prodding to save themselves.” Lane threw the Jeep in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. The rest of the crowd had managed to get into the lot. Cars, trucks, and campers all came to life in a mad dash to escape the coming storm, and naturally created a stagnant bottleneck.
“How fortunate for us that this particular flock is so motivated today,” Luna moaned.
Shaun poked his head forward from between the two seats, “Pardon, but would either of you kindly explain what the bloody hell is going on?” Again, he wasn’t British.
Apollena petted the boy’s head reassuringly, “Just trying to stay dry, darling. No need to worry your pretty head about– LANE!”
“I see ‘em,” Lane said, sharply turning the wheel out of the way of several all white mares galloping through the parking lot. Each horse held a concert attendee by the scruff of their neck, clamped firmly in their teeth as they ran past them toward the back of the lot.
“Horsies,” Danica said sleepily, nearly drifting off again.
Lane shifted back into reverse seconds before a terrified and panicked Honda Civic t-boned into the passenger side door. He kept weaving in and out of pedestrians and a handful of ghostly white horses each running down their prey.
“You’d think an act of nature would have been sufficient,” Lane grumbled, “The ghost horses feel a bit like over kill to me.” Eventually, Lane found a break in the crowded lot and made his own path around the mass of pedestrians.
“Any hint of a motive?” Apollena asked while flipping through Lane’s journal.
“The usual: we’re on their land and they’re tired of tourists,” he replied, finally straightening out and shifting down into drive. The Jeep rattled and shook as it crossed over the knee-high dirt barrier that separated the parking lot from the rest of the open desert.
“Understandable,” Apollena agreed. “Not terribly peaceful, but understandable.”
Shaun speechlessly fretted as he witnessed the chaos unfolding around them; traffic collisions, tourists screaming, and more abductions via spectral horses. In a panic he urged, “We have to do something about… What about… What are those things!”
Lane didn’t have time to properly recognize that some of the spectral steeds now had ridders; tall, proud warriors equipped with spears and bucklers. Some had long bows. It was usually best not to gawk lest gain their attention as a potential target.
“You know that parable about starfish,” Apollena asked Shaun in a hauntingly calm voice, “Can’t save all the starfish on the shore. You can only toss back the ones within reach.”
“What are you talking about,” Shaun’s voice cracked, pulse pounding as he saw one of those ghostly warriors launch a spear and skewer a poor bystander. The body of the concert goer fell limp, but their soul remained standing; confused, terrified as they watched their own body fall face first into the mud. The poor soul didn’t stand around for long as the warrior grabbed the young man’s disembodied soul by the scalp and carried him off into the storm.
“There’s no way we’re going to be able to save all these poor starfish,” Apollena said gravely, “But, we’re gonna do our best to save you and anyone else within reach. Okay?”
Shaun’s internal terror was far too high to acknowledge Apollena.
That was fine. Lane had enough empathy to know what it felt like for someone not accustomed to spiritual warfare to be caught on the losing team of a one sided fight. So he drove on until he couldn’t drive forward any longer.
What used to be a straight shot to the highway was now a lake several miles wide and unknown fathoms deep. An initial glance at the rushing water beside them suggested even if it were only as deep as the tires, the flow would carry them away with little resistance. Lane cut the steering wheel hard, now parallel to the newly formed perilous lake and gunned it. Perhaps if they managed to head what was now upstream, they’d find a dry enough land bridge to cross.
“You might have to let Shaun drive,” Apollena whispered.
Lane raised an eyebrow.
“At the rate that we’re running out of dry ground to navigate with the water rising, we might have to do as the Hebrews did and part the sea,” Apollena suggested quietly.
Lane could indeed see that the water on either side of them had begun to rise. The thunder storm had fully engulfed the concert venue to the point where any trace of it could no longer be seen. Only the occasional flash of lighting illuminated where the parking lot had once been. A handful of headlights in the distance behind Lane suggested perhaps a few had made it out before the flood. He couldn’t play the numbers game now. They hadn’t truly escaped yet.
“Okay,” Lane said, “Let’s part the waters.”
“What?” Shaun asked breathlessly. Then, as panic once again shot up into his throat, “Part the waters!?”
Apollena pulled him in by the ear, then kissed him. Her teeth bit his lip slightly enough to fully capture his attention; “You’re going to drive forward carefully until you can’t anymore. My brother and I are going to make a path. When you see dry land, keep driving until we’re out of the storm. That’s what you’re going to do. You don’t need to understand.”
With her honey-brown colored hand firmly on Shaun’s cheek, Apollena waited patiently for her date to finally nod his head. Lane didn’t bother to put the Jeep in park. He simply unbuckled his seat belt and slid over into the back seat to allow Shaun to take the wheel and driver’s seat.
“We’ll have to be on the roof for this, yeah?” Lane asked rhetorically.
Luna sighed and nodded in the affirmative.
Lane fished in the backseat for his box of ratchet straps. Their family Jeep continued to creep forward through the rain over the thinning strip of road that remained. Shaun held the wheel steady. Mostly steady. In a few moments more, Lane had safely anchored the straps to the underside of the garment rods. At least they’d have something to hold on to.
“Ready?” Lane asked, again rhetorically.
Apollena was always ready.
They climbed out of the passenger windows of the now slow moving vehicle onto the roof. Rain soaked them both to the bone almost instantly. With one hand firmly holding onto the nylon strap, Lane waited for Luna’s signal to begin. Their particular brand of Alchemy required three basic steps; drawing spell circles, burning materials in exchange for the desired effect, and the physical gestures and often spoken lyrics to activate the ritual.
Challenge number one was drawing three spell circles on the roof of a moving vehicle in rain that continued to pour down in buckets. Lane reminded himself to thank Katrina if they survived. It was their middle sister’s foresight to have their most basic spell already inscribed on top of their vehicle. Of course, Luna still struggled to ignite the loadstone hollowed out in veined with iron and silver powder. Lane had to use his body to shield the ferro rod from the rain.
“Almost… Have… THERE,” Luna exclaimed. The load stone was magnetized to the special plate Katrina had placed on the roof of their Jeep. Once ignited, the silver powder wasn’t particularly affected by the rain.
“Okay,” Lane said, grabbing hold of Luna’s free hand with his. “Let’s make a path.”
Together, the twins focused on performing the hand gestures in unison as they spoke the ancient words their tongues had long since memorized. Soon, Lane could feel the static charge run across his skin. The rain drops began to sizzle and crackle as they struck him. That honey and lavender taste filled his mouth and burned in his nostrils. Lane’s vest and shorts began to catch fire as the ethereal flames rose across his skin. Likewise, Luna’s shorts had also disintegrated in neon green flame as chains of luminescent club shaped sigils flowed out of her body. Lane’s energy pulsed a bright teal, his sigils in the form of spades linked and unlinked in a never ending chain that combined seamlessly with his sister’s.
As their spiritual energy grew, they found themselves floating a few inches above the roof of the Jeep. Lane had to have the sense to both recite the lyrics to the incantation and hold onto the nylon strap. After a few moments more, both twins had amassed enough energy to send it outward and into the Lake that had now surrounded the Jeep.
Lane concentrated on expanding the size of each spade interlocked with his sister’s club, creating two massive walls of light that could push back the waters. As he directed the spiritual energy to plunge into the lake, he could feel the cold water and sediment as if it were on his body. The water was heavy, more like molasses or wet cement, but Lane held his arms apart with all his might. It was not lost on him that a lot of their plan was riding on Shaun not to be surprised by the reality of magic and just driving forward.
Lane could feel Luna’s grip on his hand tighten. The rain still fell in sharp sheets over their burning, naked bodies. It was hard to tell if the Jeep was still rolling forward or if the rain was falling harder. It would be poor sportsmanship if the indigo girl had warned them only to increase her effort to kill them on the way out. Had she misspoken? Or, had Lane misheard? He could have sworn the young woman had called Lane a ‘Warrior for Peace’. That was mostly true. Their family had been given a responsibility to use their spell craft and they’d largely used it for good despite not solving every injustice that had befallen the world.
At the end of the day, Lane, Luna and the rest of their family were just average folks who wanted to forge their own destinies. Yeah, their parents had shown them what lay behind the veil. Magic, sorcery, alchemy and darkness beyond comprehension was all real. That still had not dismissed the fact that Lane and Luna were still horny twenty year olds who wanted a weekend to themselves.
That was their life.
Clan Woods: never a holiday without a disaster.
What had felt like nearly an hour, Lane’s muscles began to burn and fray. He still held his eyes shut. Under the incantations he kept repeating, he’d prayed that enough cars and campers had made it to safety. He prayed to whoever happened to be listening that Shaun still had the focus to keep driving forward. Lane couldn’t hold back the tide any longer. With a scream of defeat and fatigue he felt his body collapse into Luna’s. The sweat and rain stung his eyes and could hardly hold them open.
“Ursa Major… Don’t fret, my love,” spoke the calm voice of Appollena in his ear.
Lane finally gathered the courage to wipe his eyes. The rain had stopped. He shivered as he saw the now crystal blue lake behind them. Laying naked on the top of their Jeep, Lane wrapped his arms around himself while he shivered. The storm had moved on into the desert and the highway was now visible ahead. A handful of campers and trucks coasted toward the sunset.
Across the still waters of the lake that was once a concert venue, Lane squinted to see the figure of a young woman; long raven hair blowing in the wind and indigo tattoos shimmering in the setting sunlight and blissful water. The native woman held a hand up high, offered a simple wave then turned and walked away.
Luna chuckled breathlessly, “You didn’t remember to get her number, did you, brother?”
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