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

aging carpenter took off up the hill after him.

“Papa Bear to Eagle Eye,” he puffed into his walkie unit, “The commies are gathered near the first diamond with the chests. The leader just ran up to the woods and I’m on his tail. If those others start up too, you need to get the cops on them as fast as you can. Goldilocks,.. High tail yourself towards the portals and see if you can’t discreetly stop them from opening.”

“Gotcha, Gramps,” Leona replied, dashing back up the way she came.

Willard’s heart was pounding like a Salvation Army bass drum and his breath came in ragged gasps. He was feeling his age mightily, but there was no way he was going to allow these murdering swine to get away with those weapons. He stopped a moment and held on to a tree until the darkness cleared from his eyes and used the bat as a walking stick to help him climb the hill. He already had an idea where they were heading, so he wasn’t too concerned that the wizard had gotten out of his sight. It was the guys carrying the weapons he really didn’t want crossing worlds up there.

“Papa Bear, this is Eagle Eye,” Whitey’s voice came over the speaker. “The cops ain’t here yet and two of those boys are coming up the trail behind you carrying that footlocker. You copy?”

“Ten four, buddy,” Willard panted, “I’ll just catch my breath behind some trees for a minute and try to get a little batting practice in for today.”

“Knock them commie horsehides outta the park, Babe,” Whitey returned. “I think I see the Blue Knights pulling into the parking area and I need to go talk to them.”

Willard turned down the volume on the walkie-talkie and set his back against a wide oak and out of sight from the lower trail. His heart was still pounding badly, but he had managed to get his breath back a bit. Leona’s voice came through faintly that she was in place and had the other wizard in sight. Nobody’s going nowhere today, he thought as he got a choke hold on his bat.

The men were visible, just a few yards down the trail and complaining as they fought the bushes while trying to carry the chest up side by side. His heart beat faster as he remembered the kind of weapons he knew they’d be carrying. He didn’t want to be slow, or miss or give them a chance to use those things and get himself fried like that Doberman. He had a family to take care of and a world that needed him to be the man of the hour. As the pair drew up level to the tree, Willard hit a hard bunt to the nearest man’s chin, sending him tumbling like a limp rag doll back down the trail. Dropping the chest, he overbalanced his surprised mate and the hulking carpenter used the moment to cock the bat for a full swing at his head. The sickening sound of cracked bone rewarded him as the second man tumbled into the concealing underbrush, never to stir again.

Willard grabbed the footlocker. Damnation, but it was heavy. None the less, he dragged it into the bushes behind his tree and headed down the trail to move the other carcass from easy view. His laboring heart was sounding like a freight train rushing in his ears. He’d rest a moment behind his tree as soon as he got a little further back up the hill.

Whitey’s voice came faintly over the speaker that the cops were chasing the last pair straight up the hill towards him and they had the chest with them. Willard could hear them scrabbling up the trail towards him. They were hauling it up by one dragging from the front and the other pushing up from the rear. With a sharp downwards swing of the bat, he dropped the first one like a hundred pound sack of potatoes. Glancing down at the chest, the other had disappeared from view. In a moment, he felt a strong arm lock around his neck and the spots returned to his eyes. Without a second thought, his lessons came to him in startling clarity and he turned his head into the crook of the man’s elbow to buy his windpipe a little room to breathe. Dropping the bat, he reached up with his right hand and grasped the robe at the man’s shoulder and dropped on his right knee while twisting sharply to his left. The wizard came flying over his shoulder to land hard on his back, across the corner of the footlocker. He could hear the police radios coming up from the bottom of the hill.

The spots wouldn’t clear and his heart sounded like the locomotive was nearly on him. He had no time to spare. Leona was up in the woods alone with the fifth wizard, trying to keep the portals from being opened. He could hear her voice faintly on the walkie, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He grabbed his bat and used it to purchase his way up to the top of the trail. At the top, he gasped and tried to clear his vision well enough to see which trail he had to go down to intercept the leader of these murdering Nazi’s. The smell of the smoldering dog was his first clue and he staggered with all of his remaining strength down the hard packed clay trail. Thank God, he didn’t have to climb no more hills to get there. Rounding a bend in the trail, the last wizard stood waiting, with arms crossed in front of him as he watched him stagger up the trail, leaning heavily on his makeshift walking stick.

“Out for a stroll, old man?” the young wizard asked with a smirk.

“Naw,” Willard puffed, trying to get enough wind to talk and then swing, “I’m an American League talent scout, and I was wonderin’ how you’d catch a pop fly.”

“A what?” the wizard asked.

“This.” Willard grunted, putting his last ounce of strength into his swing.

The bat caught the man across the chest and left collar bone knocking him backwards into a rippling pool that just happened to be spread out vertically between two trees on the trail. The wizard grasped the bat upon impact and Willard could feel it being torn out of his grip as the darkness overtook him and carried him into a cool, deep well where he thought he might lie and rest for a while. He just couldn’t find the strength to raise his head to see what happened to that guy. Maybe someone would tell him about it later.

Somewhere, far, far away there was a light. Perhaps a single star shining in his all encompassing night. It seemed to be growing larger. Maybe it was not a star at all but a light at the end of a long tunnel. If so, why was it getting closer? Was he lying on a subway track and a train was coming? Oh no, this wouldn’t do at all. He must get up and find shelter off the tracks, but his body would not obey him. Out of the darkness a globe of purple light flashed. No train signal he knew of was purple. It must be something else. The sound of hummingbird wings and a tiny breeze on his cheek made him look about. The purple light grew so much brighter as to hurt his eyes. Something in his mind suggested that he was still alive and that help was on the way. Of course he was alive. He’d stay that way if the train didn’t run him over first. The silvery white glow of its lamp grew closer and began to resolve into a shape very unlike the headlamp of an oncoming train. Except for the buzz of hummingbird wings retreating quickly, there was no noise of steam or diesel powered machinery. No smell of coal oil or cave dampness or rusting iron. There was the smooth coolness of packed clay under him and the sound of someone sobbing. A girl was crying. Leona! Yes, he remembered now. He had come to rescue Leona from those awful men who killed people and animals like there was no difference. He was in the woods on the hill, but the bright silvery light was cool and didn’t feel like sunlight on his face. A woman’s voice was speaking to the girl and then to him. It didn’t sound like English, but somehow was comforting. Was it an angel? Someone had touched something cold and smooth to his chest and he felt warmth spreading through him to his extremities. His fingers and toes felt all prickly for a bit and feeling returned to them all. His heart was pumping a strong, steady beat in his chest and he was feeling like he was about to wake up from a long, restful nap. He stretched his arms and legs experimentally. Yep. Those worked just fine. The warm glow of sunlight filtering through the massive oaks and maple made patterns of dark and warm red on his closed eyelids. The sound of police radios and someone shouting:

“Over here! There’s a man down over this way. Have the ambulance drive up to the top of the hill and approach the trails from the east side of the reservoir.”

Yep. It was time to wake up and face the music. It actually felt good to be alive on such a bright sunny day. He’d get up if only Leona would quit hugging him.

Divide And Conquer

Emma and Little Fox sat calmly across from each other as she gazed into the water in a china bowl she had set