A. L. Kaplan

Tag: ethereal

  • The Posse

    Two days of hard riding with nothing to show but parched throats and dust. Now the red rock of the wall loomed ahead, the perfect spot for the Cheyenne Kid and his gang to pick off the posse. Marshall Briggs pulled up hard on his reins as a figure materialized out of nowhere. The slim woman didn’t flinch as the horse skid to a stop an inch away She looked tired and worn.

    “Thank goodness you caught up. They know you’re here and won’t give up their prize lightly.”

    A prize. That’s all Kate was to them. Marshall pulled his hat off and raked his wiry hair with enough force to pull some out. He pretended to scan the hills as Kate continued, restraining the urge to respond by grinding his teeth. Only he could see her astral projection. It wouldn’t do to be seen talking to himself. If anything happened to her. . .

    “There’s a spot to rest just over the next rise. We need to act now or they’ll kill everyone.”

    Seemed the Kid’s gang only understood one language. Marshall dismounted, signaling the rest of the posse to gather around. “I’ll scout ahead.  Wait here for my signal.”

    Sunshine faded as Kate led Marshall to the hiding place. A moment later Marshall’s spirit slipped from his body and followed her into the Kid’s camp. Kate’s body lay curled in a ragged ball, ropes bound tight. Dirt stained her torn dress. The Kid knelt next to her, running a filthy hand over her cheek. Anger tightened Marshall’s chest and his vision wavered.

    Energy swirled around Marshall and he grabbed the Kid by the throat with and icy grip, flinging him across the clearing. The Kid’s eyes widened. All he saw was a freak zephyr spinning across the camp. Five of the gang fell from the cliff. Three more froze to the rocks, no more than human icicles. Even the toughest outlaw has a weakness, and weird stuff didn’t suit the Cheyenne Kid. He screamed and dropped his gun as the ground under his feet rippled, swallowing him to the hips before solidifying.

    “Marshall.”

    Kate’s voice broke through Marshall’s rage. He saw the Kid struggle and scream in his half grave, even more so when fire leaped to a nearby bush like a living animal. He was hardly a threat in his present state.

    “The posse should be along soon, Marshall. I’ll be fine until you get here.”

    “I’m sorry I took so long,” said Marshall. He turned away, and then paused. “I love you, Kate. Always have.”

    Kate smiled. “I know. Now go back to your body before you dissipate.”

  • Run of Luck

    “You in or out?” asked the dealer.

    Jeff slammed his cards on the table. Every eye in the room turned. The last of the billions he had inherited disappear into the dealer’s box. This riverboat gig had been his last hope. All his dreams were blown to hell. Now he had no family, no home, and no way to buy his next meal.

    Real gamblers don’t like it when you owe them money, especially these. A sharp wind practically tore Jeff’s shirt off as he landed on the river bank miles from the next town. The landscape lay eerily silent under a blanket of snow as the boat floated away. His only chance now was to walk and pray he find shelter before freezing to death.

    It was a glowing light that caught Jeff’s eye an hour later, drawing him into the woods with the promise of a warm campfire. Hours passed before he realized his footprints had vanished. Tired, numb, scared, and ready to give up, Jeff stopped. Instantly, a blinding white light surrounded him. Warmth permeated his body.

    “It’s about time you got here,” said a woman. “I’ve been waiting all night.”

    Jeff only stared, too stunned to think.

    “You’ve had everything thing you wanted, Jeff, now it’s time to have what you need, a purpose. It’s time to give back some of the luck you’ve enjoyed all these years. I’m here to teach you to be a Dream Guardian.”

    ***

    Sunlight flickered across Jeff’s eyes and he jumped up, blinking at the brightness. Nearly a foot of snow surrounded the ten foot patch of clear dry grass where he had slept. Had it all been a dream? The gold band with the small emerald on his finger seemed to disprove that. He fingered the ring, remembering the woman’s words from last night.

    “The ring cannot be sold or traded,” she had said. “It’s ethereal. Only another adept can see it.”

    That was one way to keep him from blowing it again. But could he really be a Dream Guardian. Jeff still didn’t understand what that meant, or how he wasn’t frozen solid. The air certainly felt frigid enough. In the distance he heard the roaring of an engine and took off at a run. He was still lost in the wilderness.

    Or so he thought. Only a couple dozen yards away he stumbled into a road. For the second time in less than a day Jeff was too stunned to speak. Not just at the nearness of the road, but at the woman behind the wheel of the SUV sitting on the shoulder.

    “Want some coffee and a ride, or are you going to keep me waiting again?”

  • Gold Fever

    Lance yanked another gold bracelet off a skeleton and slipped it onto his arm, then slapped Miquel on the back. “Those superstitious fools who turned back are going to kick themselves when we return to town.”

    Miquel placed a crown on his head and smiled. “Max and Renato died in an accident, not because of some Mayan curse. Nacon, god of war, be damned. Now we’re the lords of Quixtelopotec.”

    Hours later, Miquel hauled the last bag of treasure up from the sacrificial pit and held his hand out to Lance, a knife concealed behind his back. It wasn’t much of a struggle.

    “Blasphemer! You will die for your sacrilege!”

    Miquel spun around, his face frozen in shock as a stone masked figure stepped into view. He backed away, slipping on Lance’s blood. Renato pulled the mask from his face as Miquel fell into the pit. Now the treasure was all his. Killing Max and frightening the others was easy. He whistled at he loaded the loot onto the pack mules.

    “Blasphemer!” the voice reverberated off the stone ruins, shaking dirt and debris loose around Renato. He looked around. Did the others sneak back? He paled as a figure marched out of the rock wall shaking a stone mallet over his head. “You, who dare to steal from Nacon, shall pay with your blood.”

    His former companions, eyes black and hollow grabbed him with ethereal hands. He could only scream as he fell into the darkness.