Of Song and Shadow by Phillip Drayer Duncan

Author:Phillip Drayer Duncan [Duncan, Phillip Drayer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Happy Omega Publishing
Published: 2020-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

My dreams were a haunted mess. I couldn’t remember much, save I was running from the shadows. No matter how hard I ran, they drew closer and closer.

I woke up in a strange place. I knew it was foreign before I even opened my eyes. Around me I could hear quiet chatter from unfamiliar voices. No, that wasn’t quite right. I recognized the cowboy’s voice.

I opened my eyes and glanced around.

There was a window beside me, and judging by the sun, it was already late afternoon.

I was curled up on a couch in what appeared to be the inside of an RV. I forced myself to a sitting position and looked around.

The cowboy sat at a small table on the other end of the camper, chatting quietly with one of the black-armored goons.

I looked around for my weapons but didn’t see them.

As I studied my surroundings, the gentle patter of conversation died down and I glanced over to realize the cowboy was staring at me. He nodded at the goon who reluctantly exited the camper.

“No need to be alarmed,” the stranger said as he pulled a can of Copenhagen out of his pocket. He took off the lid and grabbed a pinch between his fingers. After putting it in his lip he continued, “You’re safe here.”

“Am I?” I asked.

He made a brief chuckle and pointed at the other side of the empty table. “Come have a seat. Your weapons are here.”

I hesitated. If he wanted to kill me he could have already, but that didn’t mean he was friendly. Furthermore, I didn’t know what had happened to Axel or Paeter. For all I knew, his men had killed them outside the hospital before taking me prisoner. In the end, though, I didn’t see much choice but to play along.

I moved toward the front of the camper and saw that he hadn’t lied. My staff and sword were in the seat across from him. I picked them up and sat down, laying my weapons across my lap. I felt better just having them.

“Where are my friends?” I asked.

He pointed a thumb toward the door. “Outside hanging with my guys. They’re all right. The one never shuts the hell up, though.”

“He really doesn’t,” I replied, feeling a sense of relief. If Axel was dead, this man wouldn’t have known what a chatter box he was. So, good chance he was telling the truth.

“So,” he said, pausing to spit in a plastic cup. “You’re Wyatt Draven. Son of the man himself.”

I nodded.

“Your old man is fucking legend, kid. You know that?”

He had a southern accent. Sounded Texan. I couldn’t remember having met this man before, and I was pretty sure neither him or his goons were from the Cabal.

“I do,” I said finally. “He was a great man.”

“The best,” he said, nodding. “I learned a lot from him. Shame he passed. Still had a lot more to teach me.”

“Have we met?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Unfortunately I missed the funeral or we might have.

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