Witch Clan: Warriors!, John Stormm [books to read in your 20s female TXT] 📗

“and I’m the owner and chief cook in this establishment. I am honored and apologise that I’m not used to receiving such royal guests in my humble eatery but I promise to give the best I have if it will do, ma’am.”

“I am an excellent judge of cooking and character,” Emma replied sternly, taking everyone aback, “and I am quite certain that you are eminently capable of taking care of us in the manner we are fully accustomed to. You have my full Matriarchal seal of approval and we will be equally honored to share your table with you.”

The backroom collectively exhaled and smiles broke out infectiously as the ice was effectively broken. Introductions and handshakes were exchanged with enthusiasm. They may not have known it when she came in, but these were Emma’s kind of folk. Neither was she surprised to find that Windwalker laid out a pretty fair spread of victuals. It was the common consensus that ‘Grandma Emma’ become the unofficial grandmother to all the Witch Kids. With full stomachs and much information to share, it was well after sunset before they returned to their apartment in the more affluent part of town.
Get Your Hot Dogs Here!

“He really thinks there might be a Commie attack from up on Cobbs Hill?” Whitey asked incredulously.

“Do you think for a moment he would have given us the keys to his shiny red convertible if he didn’t?” Willard said, jangling the car keys in Whitey’s face. “Besides, if you think about it, look at all the damage they could do from just that hill top. You’ve got the city reservoir up there. They could poison the city’s water supply. There are TV and radio towers on that and the neighboring hill. They could take out all of our communications and there’s a National Guard armory across the street from the park. Just think of all the weapons they might find in there.”

“So why did he leave with the Missus and the boy for that big Injun convention up north?” Whitey asked.

“He’s been watching over the place since he came here,” Willard lied convincingly, “and there’s no telling where or when a problem might break out. It’s not as if we have their timetables or anything. We got the CB radio in the car and Johnny’s walkie-talkies to keep in touch with. So for us it’s just a nice ride to the park and if anything happens, you can tune in channel nine, which the police monitor, and call for help if we see anything.”

“Well, if John Little Fox says there’s the remotest chance of a Commie threat,” Whitey vowed, “I’m not about to shirk my patriotic duty to keep vigilant. Can we ride with the top down?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind,” Willard said with a wink.


“God, I love this stuff!” Whitey crowed, slapping his good knee.


It was a beautiful, early summer, Saturday afternoon for a drive to the park. Leona sat in the back seat, catching the wind in her hair as the pair of over aged boys sat in the front, playing with the radio and discussing possible tactics for their upcoming adventure. They had agreed that they would park the car in the lot across from the armory so Whitey could man the radio and keep an eye on things there as Willard and Leona took the walkies on a hike up into the wooded park on the hill.

“Papa Bear to Eagle Eye, do you copy?” Willard asked, checking the radio out a little ways from the car.

“Ten four, Papa Bear,” Whitey returned. “Reading you five by five here, ol’ buddy. How’s about that Goldilocks? You copy us, babe?”

“Yeah, uh, ten four,” Leona replied. “Loud and clear, over.”

“Is all this code talk really necessary, Grandpa?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Willard replied. “Little Fox is the only one of us that has a license for this sort of thing so we have to sound legit while we’re using his radio or we’ll draw a heavy fine from the authorities and we’re up here to help, not become a nuisance ourselves.”

“I need a license for this thing?” she asked, holding up the walkie-talkie.

“No,” he replied, “Just the radio in the car. I want you to carry that just in case we get separated or something.”

“I know these woods like our backyard, Gramps,” she said. “Grams has been taking us here for years.”

“I’ve only been here once or twice myself,” he pointed out. “I’ll need you to show me where the strange parts of the forest are where our Commie wizards might come poking through.”

“Why do you call them Communists?” she asked. “We really don’t know what kind of government they might have at home.”

“’Cause Whitey hates Commies,” he replied. “They blew his leg off and he sees them as a threat to our way of living and these murderin’ bums are all of that and more. He’d have us both locked up if we told him we were searching for killer wizards from another world out here.”

“Sounds like another cheesy drive-in movie,” Leona said with a giggle. “We should probably be making our way down that trail over there. It leads deeper into the center of the forest and we almost always rift a little when we start exploring off in that direction. Elvyra’s house is on the far side of that.”

Willard looked up through the canopy of trees to check the sun’s position relative to his own to get his bearings and proceeded with his granddaughter down the hard packed clay trail. About a hundred yards or so into the woods, Leona halted and pointed to a space between a group of four or five large oaks where another trail crossed the area.

“Look closely between those two big trees, Gramps,” she pointed. “The air there seems to shimmer like the heat off a hot car hood.”

“Yeah, I see it,” Willard replied, squinting at the phenomenon. “If anything, it feels cooler here than hotter. Is that a rift?”

“Actually, Grams says it’s a portal or a nexus,” Leona explained, “A rift is kind of a free flowing tear in the fabric of space and time, while a nexus is more of a doorway fixed between two points.”

“Being a carpenter, myself,” Willard wondered aloud, “I have to ask; who built the doorway?”

“Nobody knows anymore,” she replied. “I’m always wondering what kind of explosions or accidents happen that cause the rifts. If we keep on testing all those atomic bombs, are we making more holes for things to come through?”

“I never thought of that,” Willard admitted. “That’s not a pleasant thought that the things we built to protect ourselves from one threat should pose an even greater threat to our safety and well being. Have you guys ever walked into one of those things?”

“Oh, lots of times,” Leona replied. “Sometimes, you don’t even notice passing through one until you realize that you’re not in the woods you were in anymore. Most of the time, these open into pretty nice places in the daylight hours. But you wouldn’t want to be out here at night. That’s a whole different story.” Remembering the dark plane of Annwn was enough to send an unconscious chill up her spine.

“Could you find our way back if we checked this one out?” he asked, eyes never wavering from the shimmering portal.

“It wouldn’t matter,” she replied, “after a half an hour or so, the universe would be aware that we don’t belong there and correct itself and shift us back somewhere within a quarter mile of where we entered. Except for Johnny, and he can seem to play there all day long if he wants. But even he has his limits.”

“Let’s check in with Whitey,” he said, making up his mind, “and go through this one. With any luck, we might see your Grams and the guys on the other side.”

“I kind of doubt that,” she said, “but it couldn’t hurt anything to stroll through. We’ve done it dozens of times before and I’m sure you’ll appreciate the experience.”

“Papa Bear to Eagle Eye, you copy?” Willard recited into his radio.

“Eagle Eye here, five by,” Whitey replied. “Unless the Commies are sportin’ short shorts and dangerous curves, there’s nothing to report here but a pleasant day. Not that I’m complaining. Ten Four?”

“Nothing here yet either,” Willard said with a chuckle, “I’m just wanting to check out the far side of the hill, so we might be out of radio contact for a half hour or so.”

“It’s not that big a park, Papa Bear,” Whitey replied, “But I copy you and will be standing by as you need me. I wanted to go over the vendor and get a Texas hot and a cold lemonade any who.”

“Ten four, Papa Bear out.” Willard responded. “Let’s take a short walk.”

There was only a moment of disorientation when he didn’t feel as if the sun was in quite the right place in the sky, but