“Hey
um, Riley, this is Jordan, Dez’s cousin. He was wondering when and where those
auditions were gonna be.”
Riley shoved away from the wall, grinning as
he practically bounced across the floor, shoving his fingers through his pale
blond hair, knowing he was making a mess of it. “You’re serious right now? He
wants to audition?”
“Let’s just say that his surly routine has
finally grated on my old man’s last nerve and after going round and round it
was decided he either audition or pack his shit and find somewhere else to live
‘cause we’re all sick of the broody, people suck attitude he’s been radiating
for the past few months. Please tell me you haven’t filled the spot yet?”
“Not even close. Can you get him over here in
the next hour or so?”
“Yeah, I can do that. Text the address to this
number and we’ll be on our way.”
“Thanks, you just made my fuckin’ year.”
“Likewise,” Jordan replied before hanging up
and leaving Riley with a feeling he hadn’t experienced since the last night of
the tour. Hope.
“Oh joy, now we have five more
auditions to suffer through,” Zakk moaned, dropping his head back onto the
table and leaving it there. “Just kill me now and get it over with.”
“No, I demand that I be put to the sword
first, please, have mercy, I’m begging you!” Damien demanded, as overdramatic
as ever as he draped himself across the table like a sacrificial offering.
“Look, I get it, but trust me, you wanna hear
this guy play.”
Zakk sat up, fixing him with that piercing
sapphire gaze of his. “Okay, that sounds promising. Spill. Who are we talking
about here?”
“Dez Conway.”
It was almost comical; the way Zakk’s mouth
fell open and Damien almost fell off the table rolling over so fast.
There was no missing the hopefulness in Zakk’s
expression though. “You’re shitting me? Please, please tell me you are not
shitting me.”
“I’m not shittin’ you. I was at Embers the
other night and went to take a piss. On the way back, I heard someone singing
and followed it, ‘cause damn. He was back there rinsing dishes. Guess he’s been
working there since Saint’s Seduction cut him loose.”
“That was some bullshit right there,” Zakk
remarked. “How do you fire someone who was a step up from the last guy you had
playing for you, just to give his spot to someone who lasted, what, three
months before walking away, again, might I add, seeing as how he was their
original singer, wasn’t he?”
“You are correct, but there were extenuating
circumstances involved,” Damien pointed out.
“Weren’t they the ones who got caught in that
nasty snowstorm near Minneapolis and ended up wrecking their van?” Zakk asked.
“They were and the injuries sustained by their
singer nearly ended his life,” Damien replied. “The rumor mill suggested that
he endured a great deal of physical therapy before attempting to return to the
stage only to discover that mentally, he was not up to the task. There were
some show delays and mention of panic attacks mid-performance before he took
himself out of the lineup again. There has not been a lot of talk of the band
since then, which is truly a shame because they had a nice sound and some lovely
pyrotechnics and stage displays.”
“Whatever you guys do, don’t mention Saint’s
Seduction to him, or Carrion, whatever happened there is a real sore spot for
him,” Riley pointed out. “He pretty much told me to go to hell when I asked him
to audition, which is why I didn’t bother mentioning running into him.”
“Well, if he’s as crazy awesome now as he was
back then, I’d say we found our replacement,” Zakk replied. “And a good thing
too. We’ve got a little more than a week to get the audition tape sent in if
we’re going to have a prayer of playing Rocktoberfest.”
Damien spun his cell phone towards them,
letting them see the news feed on the screen. “If we do not play that show we
will be facing some insurmountable obstacles in our efforts to rebound from
Wade’s duplicity.”
Riley read the line, then read it again in the
hopes that he’d misunderstood it the first time, but nope, it clearly stated,
in bright white lettering on a background of red, The Deviant Angel Wade
Andrews to play Rocketoberfest’s opening day. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’
kidding me!”
“Don’t I wish,” Damien muttered.
“Shhhh” Zakk hissed.
Raising an eyebrow at his bandmate, Riley shot him a look. “What
the hell are you shushing me for when there is literally no one out here to
hear us.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Riley looked around, spotting nothing but a tumbleweed
rolling across the dusty, moonlit yard. “Unless you’re seeing something I
can’t, we’re the only ones stupid enough to be out here.”
“You four chuckleheads have exactly five minutes to decide
how you want to do this before I head back to the RV and leave you for the
ghosts to find,” James huffed, lugging the drum bag that contained Damien’s
kit.
“There will be no more talk of ghosts until we’re all away
from this creepy ass place, if you don’t mind,” Riley complained, trying to
imagine a setup that would convey the ominous eeriness they were hoping for
with this video.
Zakk, meanwhile, headed straight for the steps. “Okay, I
think we should set up on the porch or in the entryway since the moonlight is streaming
right though the broken windows.”
“And I’m going to suggest you keep your asses off of and out
of a potentially unstable structure before a floor gives way and sends you
idiots crashing through to the basement,” James barked, setting the drumkit
down.
“And porch it is.” Zakk remarked.
“How about ground, why not stick with that, huh?” James
countered.
Looking between them both, Riley shrugged. “Maybe check the porch
first and then we’ll set up, if it’s safe.”
“Hello, have you all suddenly gone deaf? Have I gone
invisible?” James growled, looking down at himself.
“Relax James, it’ll be fine. Dez will just go up and see if
it holds weight, he’s the biggest, so….” Riley began.
“Oh hell no. You wanna know if that porch will hold us all
then you take your skinny ass up there and jump on it.”
“I’ll do it,” Zakk declared, bounding up the steps. Several
jumps and the creaking of a few boards and there was still some lingering doubt
that it was truly stable.
“What if we set Damien and the drums on the porch and the
rest of us on the steps and ground in front of it. That way, you can still
capture him in the video and all of us have plenty of room to move around?”
Zakk suggested.
“Fine, but if an ER trip needs to be made tonight, then I’ll
be singing I fuckin’ told you so, all the way to the doors,” James declared as
he carried the kit up the stairs and started setting up while Zakk began
positioning the video cameras.
HOOOOO HOOOOO HOOOOO
Urgent, frantic hooting proceeded a large shape swooping skyward,
dust and the tinkle of broken glass shards drifting down from the ledge above
the doorway.
“And on that note….I’m sufficiently freaked.” Riley
muttered, staring around as everyone else calmly continued to get ready for the
video shoot. Dez even shrugged at him like nothing had just happened.
“Was just a great horned owl, judging from the size and the
hoot anyway.”
“How the hell would you know what kind of owl it was?” Riley
demanded to know.
“Koda and I did an owl walk last year. He wanted to take
pictures so he could draw shifter variants of them and I just wanted to spend
time with him, so it was win, win.”
Okay, now Riley was confused. “Shifter….variants, I don’t
get it.”
Dez opened his mouth to answer, but Damien beat him to the
bunch “It is the art of taking human and animal characteristics and blending
them to create a form of were-creature.”
“Sounds pretty cool to me,” Zakk added, settling the last
camera and tri-pod in place.
Dez was working steadily on positioning the electric violin
stand right beside his guitar one so he could switch instruments easily, even
as he continued telling them about his friend’s designs. “He’s even done some
crossover steampunk themed stuff too. If I ever have the opportunity to
introduce him to Nash I can’t even envision the unique array of creations
they’d spawn. They’ve both got this knack of blending the organic and inorganic
to create something spectacular. I’d love to have them collab on my next
tattoo.”
“I would be more interested in this were-owl drawing, as
that is something I could see having tattooed on my back among the other
feathered folk who adorn me.” Damien remarked.
“I’ll talk to Koda, see if I can get him to send me the jpgs
so you can take a look.”
“For now, how about you two stop discussing owls and get
plugged in, see what else we can scare outta the rafters,” Zakk muttered.
Dez’s response was to play a series of cords that sounded an
awful lot like a revamped intro to Bedlam and Disaster, a song they’d
been working on for the past two days. Loud, chaotic and destined to get the
moshers headbanging like it was 1991, it still needed allot of tweaking yet.
“Oh shit….”
Riley turned at the sound of frantic flapping and hit the
dirt as several bats winged it over his head, making a beeline for the
surrounding forest. Spitting out dust and grateful he hadn’t been carrying any equipment,
he turned to glare at Zakk, who’d dove a few feet away and now sat dirt
streaked and chuckling at him.
“You just had to say something about the rafters, didn’t you?”
“Look on the bright side, chances are we’ve got the place to
ourselves now,” Zakk shot back.
“Then let’s quit dicking around, get this video shot and get
out of here before something goes wrong…” James declared.
“What could possibly go….” Dez began.
“Don’t say it, don’t even think it…just get set up and
sing!” Riley snapped, to which Dez, that shit, smirked, gave him a mock salute,
set up his mic, and shredded out a scathing riff accompanied with impromptu
lyrics.
Shambling shadows on a hazy night
Bats and birds, afraid, take flight
Full moon clashing with a rumbling storm
What could go wrong! What could go wrong!
Lightning crackles, electricity hums
Fusing Damien to those silver drums
Macabre stature of hair, metal and char
Have I gone too far, have I gone too far?
“Yes!” all of them bellowed back, laughing as Dez feigned a
mock bow. One thing had come from discovering their new singer. The band was
having fun and laughing again, which was better than six months ago, or even a
year before Wade had quit.
Fuckin’ Wade.
I Loved These Books So Much!!
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