OUR FABULOUS TEAM MEMBER, AUTHOR LORRAINE CAREY, IS SHARING CHAPTER 2 FROM HER YOUNG ADULT NOVEL, 'OUT OF THE ASHES' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat

Chapter 2: Vision Quest

~ Dean realizes that he has a sacred mission to fill

Dean felt a wave of heaviness in his eyes as sleep engulfed his body. The sound of distant drumming roused him. How long have I been out of it? He reached for his flashlight, which still didn’t work. “Damn curse!” He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair. The drumming got louder and louder, and Dean’s head pounded. God, what I wouldn’t give for some aspirin and a cold Coke. He rustled through his duffel bag, searching for something to eat. The drumming grew so loud that it caused him to fall into a trance. This one was quite different from the ones he’d experienced back at the inn when he thought his grandpa was in his presence. He could feel his heart rate increase as it felt as though it would explode out of his chest. Maybe I can shift and fly out of this place like before. He grabbed his talisman, and it burned hot and vibrated. A thick cloud of smoke circled him, and the drumming softened. He tried to reach a hand out of the circle of stones, through the smoke, but was zapped by the same energy from the unseen force

field. Soon, his arm transferred the magnetic force throughout his entire body.

Although the thick smoke had transformed into a wall of flames about five feet high, Dean was tall enough to see over it. “I must have died and gone to hell.”

“Dean, you are now in the presence of the ‘Gahe’, the mountain gods,” said an echo.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Dean could see a vision of warriors dancing as they were beating their drums as they circled the big stone altar in the distance.

The voices spoke to Dean over the sound of the drumming. “You will need us, Dean, as we need you. We are the mountain gods who have lived in these tunnels for thousands of years. We have the power to heal diseases and broken souls. You will find us when you come to us with your chosen four.”

“What chosen four? And why would I ever summon you?” Dean called out in an angry voice, his head a ball of confusion. He could feel his body filled with tension again, and knew he had to gain control of his temper or felt as though his head would burst.

Soon, the flames shot up over his head as the drumming intensified. His body was so hot that he fell to the ground and slipped into unconsciousness as the fire engulfed him. The flames twisted and swirled around his body, creating a cocoon that continued twisting and turning for some time, then transformed into a soft amber color that encased him as he remained unconscious. All was silent as darkness crept in, except for a few embers that remained burning outside the circle of stones. Dean was still on the ground, curled up in the fetal position. A sudden wind blew in, accompanied by a large glowing bird. It flew high towards the ceiling and circled Dean’s body until he stirred.

As Dean found the strength to sit up, he noticed the bird had grown in size and now hovered over the stone altar. It showed itself, revealing itself to be a full-blown thunderbird. It was blazing orange in color with a bright golden aura that encircled its body.

Dean’s eyes were fixed on the bird as it remained still without making a sound. Another voice could be heard coming from behind the altar.

“You have gained the ‘Balance of Power, ’ Dean,” said a familiar voice. “The fire has imbued you with great strength and powers which will enable you to fight off any demons that may stand in your way.”

Dean recognized the voice as his grandpa’s. This can’t be real. “Grandpa, are you here?”

“Yes, Dean, it is I. You have been honored with this gift from the power of ‘spirit’ from our ancestors to be able to give back the gift to Mother Earth. The Superstition Mountains need to be restored to their original state of ‘sacred ground’. As you know, my great-grandmother was the gifted Yolanda Peralta who married Juha, the powerful shaman. They had started the sacred bloodline that resulted in an offspring preparing for your birth.”

Dean was frozen in disbelief. Tears rolled down his sweat and dirt-covered face as he was overcome with emotion.

“Walk forth, Dean,” said his grandpa.

Dean stood up, still a bit shaky, but was able to walk outside the circle. He trudged over the pile of ashes that was once a blazing fire. He walked toward the altar and could see the large thunderbird still hovering.

“You have been blessed and infused with many powers,” echoed grandpa’s voice. “The thunderbird is, and always will be, your sign of power. The scar on your chest will be a reminder of who you are and where you came from. Rubbing or touching it will call upon the powers of the Great Spirit for you. It is only to be used to guard our grounds so that no more gold shall be taken from the mine. You will have tremendous power to use to save us all. But remember, it can only be used for good, for if you should abuse this gift, you will forever be cast to live among the ‘Deros’ in deep earth. But I know my grandson well, and this will never come to fruition.”

“But Grandpa, I came here to escape all of this. Who are the Deros?”

“They’re what we call the little ‘evil ones’. They dwell in a dark place, and their evil is trapped, as the Great Spirit has made sure they can’t be released. There’s no escape. You must honor me, your Apache family, and their families from centuries long ago. It is what you were born for. I’ll always be with you as you begin and end your mission.”

“And was the vision of the ‘red coyote’ the first sign of all this?” Dean asked. He remembered that first night he saw the blazing apparition on top of the mesa.

“Yes, the ‘red coyote’ was a first sign, but it was also a warning, as the coyote is the ultimate ‘trickster’, and wants to alert you to be aware that there will be much deception in your journeys.”

“Grandpa, where are you? Let me see you!”

The voice dissipated, and the image of the thunderbird faded along with it.

Dean walked wearily around the back of the stone altar, then to the back of the cave, searching for some sign of magic or trickery. He could find no props, only a different kind of feeling coming over him; one of comfort and an all-knowing that things would be okay. He returned to the stone altar and glared at the large crystals that were on top. He ran his hand over one of them, and visions of his dear friend, Robert, came to his mind. I’ve got to get over to his house and get those rocks he left me.

He could hear that familiar whooshing sound again as his old hawk friend had decided to visit him. “Now what? And just who are you supposed to be?” he asked, raising his arms in the air. The hawk swooped down and almost knocked him over again. “Hey buddy, you trying to kill me?” Dean became so dizzy from watching the hawk and having nothing to eat or drink for at least two days that he fell to the ground again.

Soon he was in a deep sleep, his body wrecked with exhaustion. The embers had died down, and it appeared he would finally get some well-needed rest.

**********

While Dean slept, he had dreams of a beautiful white wolf entering the cave and creeping towards him. He had no fear of this enchanting creature. The wolf seemed to have a direct connection to him as it looked at Dean. Dean stared right into the wolf’s deep golden eyes, which offered him solace and comfort. It lay next to him as they slept.

Dean stirred, then sat up, taking in his surroundings. There was a faint flicker from his flashlight lying next to him. How the heck did that go on? And where’s that wolf? He sat on the ground and felt the pieces finally coming together. It was as if he was being shown a full-length feature film of what his life was to be, and he knew it to be true. He also knew without a doubt that the wolf friend was his spirit guide.

He was ready to return to the inn, his family, and face this new mission he knew he had to embrace. He also had to realize Robert was gone, but he’d still have good memories of the days they spent in the desert. He picked up his duffel bag and staggered out of the cave.

As he reached the outside, he turned around as he heard the distant drumming again, but it soon faded. “Goodbye, Grandpa. I’ll make you proud.”

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COMING SOON; On Wednesday, 7th January, we are thrilled to welcome, guest author, Catherine Yaffe, who is sharing her Prologue and some chapters from her novel, 'The Shadow Killer'.