Stone Soldiers 1: Mythical

MYTHICAL

(STONE SOLDIERS #1)

C.E. Martin

Copyright 2013 by C.E. Martin

Cover Art: C.E. Martin

Editor: Karen Martin

www.StoneSoldiers.info

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places and events are purely fictional and not based on any real event. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is an amazing coincidence and nothing more.

All Rights Reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without the express written permission of the author,
[email protected], with the exception of excerpts for the purposes of review or discussion, as explained in the Fair Use Act.

Dedicated to God and my Family

STONE SOLDIER
S: The Series

Mythical

Brothers in Stone

Blood and Stone

Shades of War

Black Knight Down (Coming Soon)

Armageddon Z (Coming Soon)

PROLOGUE

As the enormous, six-fingered hand plunged into his chest, Scott Sutton screamed like a little girl. His shrill, ear-splitting wail of pure terror finally ended when the giant’s hand wrenched his heart out of his chest- past splintered ribs and torn flesh the giant had reached through as easily as a normal person might reach through a wet paper towel.

Scott’s dying body toppled sideways to the rough sand of the Arizona desert, his life flashing back before his eyes. There was the long career of working his way up the corporate ladder, lying to so many people to achieve his goals. There was his married life, and the day to day grind of going to work. There was the recent trip west to an executive training class that really was just the cover for a quick trip to Mexico where he and his partner-in-crime loaded up on drugs then flew them back into the United States. There was the fireball he’d seen in the desert, then a mid-air collision with something that forced him to land his small airplane. Then the giant, reaching into his chest.

Then there was only darkness.

Not far away, still seated in the fixed-wing, single-engine airplane Scott had been piloting moments ago, Margaret Hicks finally started screaming. She clawed at her seatbelt for several seconds with one hand and opening her co-pilot’s door with the other.

Standing in the desert, blood running down its arm, the six-fingered giant watched her impassively as it took a bite out of Scott’s still-warm heart.

Margaret continued to scream, finally undoing her belt and falling out of the plane. She was in full shriek mode now- no longer aware she was even screaming, just pausing for breath and starting back up again every few seconds. She clawed at the sand and crawled away from the plane as fast as she could.

She was a good thirty feet from the plane, scampering along on all fours like a crab, when something large passed over her head. Wind pushed down on her- the down blast from large wings.

It landed with ground-shaking force not far from Margaret. She stopped crawling- and screaming- and looked slowly up.

The dragon was red as blood- covered in glistening, metallic scales. Its head was the size of a horse and it had four legs- each ending with large taloned feet. Broad leathery wings stretched out on either side of its back- their wingspan greater than that of Scott’s plane. As she watched, the wings slowly tucked in, folding up.

Margaret began to skitter backwards now, away from the monster barely illuminated under a half moon.

The creature reared up on its hind legs, then seemed to shrink. Red scales faded, turning tan like the desert. They absorbed into the creature’s skin. The front legs shortened, turning into massive, muscled arms ending in six-fingered hands. The rear legs also turned more human-looking, forming into mighty, tree-trunk legs with six-toed feet that supported a giant well over eight feet tall.

The monstrous figure strode forward, toward Margaret- the last remnant of its long, dragon tail shrinking away into its backside.

“No, no!” Margaret screamed. All the way on the flight from Mexico she had fretted over the precious load of marijuana she and Scott had been smuggling into Arizona. Then they’d been forced down by a mid-air collision with the dragon-giant creature. Now all Margaret cared about was her life.

The bare feet of the naked giant strode over to Margaret, then a massive hand grabbed her by the short hair on her head and lifted her off the ground.  Margaret screamed again and clawed at the arm holding her- but her nails might as well have been digging at stone. The giant’s arm was bulging with corded muscles beneath skin from which sprouted wiry, black hair.

The giant smiled at Margaret, revealing a double row of teeth in his mouth. “Hush, Margaret. You’re being too noisy.”

That stopped her screaming. The monster knew her name. Which was impossible.

The giant looked her up and down, taking in her skinny, vegetarian’s body and her manly haircut. Finally, it made its mind up about what to do with Margaret.

A six-fingered hand smashed through Margaret’s chest- exploding her ribcage and parting her flesh. Blood geysered out of her and then the hand reached up, inside her, fingers wrapping around her heart. 

CHAPTER ONE

Somewhere in the Arizona desert, miles from any road or water, there was a boat.

This boat was charred and cracked, melted, burned- a black blight on the pristine sands, the ash from the fire that had consumed it spreading out to form a black circle, thirty feet in diameter. The boat sat in silence, undiscovered, for days.

Until a group of motorcycle riders stumbled across it.

Five riders, racing through the desert, weaving in and out, jumping slight rises. Ahead of the riders, the desert sands stretched out for miles for their enjoyment. Behind them, the riders left behind not only their camp, but twelve years of education. This was their summer vacation, before they would all go out into the world, to college, to jobs, to begin their new lives.

The leader of the pack, Carlos, topped a rise at full speed. Beneath his helmet he grinned, wondering if any of the others would catch him.

Carlos suddenly lost his grin. He let off the throttle and slammed on his brakes. A great black spot lay in the desert ahead of him. Charred remnants of something large.

Behind Carlos, the other riders approached. They all saw the same great stain on the desert and slid to a stop beside their friend.

Carlos looked around at his friends. None of them were doing anything more than looking at the burnt remains down the slope from them. He would have to be the first.

Carlos nodded to his friends then took off for the wreckage.

The bikers rolled cautiously down the slope toward the burnt wreckage. As they got closer they could make out the shape of whatever it had been. It looked vaguely boat-like and it had been consumed in a great fire.

The bikers stopped a dozen feet from the edge of the burnt wreckage. No smoldering ashes, no embers. The thirty foot wide circle of ash smelled of burnt plastic. One by one, the riders stepped off their motorcycles and removed their helmets.

Three jocks and one nerd. That’s how they were described at school. Had been described. Before they graduated. The extreme bikers and their mechanic friend, the sickly-looking Jimmy Kane.

The fifth rider was markedly different. Long black hair spilled out of her helmet as she took it off. Her name was Josie Winters.

It wasn’t easy being the only girl in a group of guys. Even if she was a tomboy who almost never wore makeup and was arguably the best rider in the group. She was still the girl and the guys never let her forget it. Still, when they all went their separate ways in a few months, Josie would miss them.

Jimmy and the other boys began to walk slowly around the edges of the wreckage, hesitant to step on the out of place ashes.

Josie walked boldly into the blackened sands. Something had caught her eye.

Sure enough, the wreckage was that of a boat. A twenty-five-foot-long runabout, designed for pulling water skiers. Mainly fiberglass. Most of it was melted now, revealing an aluminum frame and railings. And large twin diesel engines.

And a corpse.

The body of a man lay in the wreckage. At least Josie thought it was a man. Shriveled and blackened by fire, it was hard to be sure.

Josie moved in closer. Yes, it was definitely a man. A very tall man, with thin limbs. And a gaping hole in his chest.

“This is messed up,” Kendall said, breaking the silence. Like the other boys, Kendall stood on the edge of the burned wreckage, leaning forward to try and see what Josie stood in front of.

Josie crouched down, moving around the corpse. Now she could also see part of the man’s head was missing. A gaping wound above his left eyebrow. Nearly half the skull was removed.

Carlos finally stepped forward onto the ashes and debris. “What’s a speedboat doing out here? Are we even near any water?”

Josie ignored her friends and stared at the burnt corpse. The man was leaning back against the boat, his shirt and one boot burnt off. Around his neck something gleamed in the sun. A gold necklace, covered in ash and soot. Hanging from the chain was a fish symbol. A Christian fish, like Josie had seen countless times on the trunk lids and bumpers of cars around town.

Another boy, Logan, walked up behind Josie. The other boys followed him. They stood in a semi-circle behind her, looking over her shoulder at the burnt body.

“Is that a hole in his chest?” Logan asked. He had just noticed the gaping, hand-sized hole, under the corpse’s sternum.

Jimmy, the group’s slimmest member, poked at the burnt debris by the corpse. As ash moved, sun glinted off something metal.

“I think this is a gun!” Jimmy announced.

“How did he get here?” Josie wondered aloud. She squatted down in front of the corpse, staring at the blackened face. Despite the fact she was so close to a corpse, Josie didn’t feel frightened.

Another of the boys, Kendall, looked around at the sky. The sun was starting to set.

“It's starting to get dark. We need to head back,” Kendall said.

The other boys looked around as well. Low on the horizon they could see the full moon, just beginning its rise into the sky.

The boys all nodded to each other and turned from the boat wreck then started back to their motorcycles. Josie didn’t notice them leave. She was transfixed by the thin, burnt corpse. Even in death, the face seemed peaceful. Maybe even friendly.

A sudden splash of water on her cheek startled Josie. She looked up as more drops began to fall. Rain.

Josie finally looked away from the corpse. The guys were all back at their bikes, putting their helmets back on.

Jimmy held out her helmet. “
C’mon, Josie!”

Kendall, his helmet visor flipped up, looked over at his friend Logan. “I thought the forecast was for clear skies?”

The rain was coming steady now. Big drops fell everywhere- including on the burnt corpse. Josie watched as the water began to wash away ash and soot, revealing gray beneath.

Josie leaned in closer. The man was made of stone.

Josie was confused. A statue, dressed in pants, looking so life-like. In the middle of nowhere, in the melted remains of a boat. It made no sense.

Suddenly, the stone man’s hand twitched.

Josie nearly fell over as she jerked back. Had she just seen what she thought she’d seen?

“Let’s go!” Jimmy yelled from the bikes.

A couple of the guys were already starting their motorcycles. The rainfall was starting to get heavy. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Josie gave the burnt stone body one more look. It remained motionless, more and more ash and soot washing off. Josie finally shook her head and stood up. She jogged over to her bike, where Jimmy handed her helmet over. Once her helmet was on, Josie and Jimmy started their motorcycles in unison. They were the last two riders to carefully drive away.

***

The rain continued for some time, as the sun descended and the moon climbed into the sky. Nearly a flash flood, the rain had washed all the ash and soot off the stone corpse in a very short time.

Water began to pool on the ground around the stone man. And in the cavity of his head. The stone man’s gaping wound begin to fill. First with water, then with stone.

Stone expanded up, like a sponge in the man’s head and chest wounds. In seconds, the wounds had filled in. The man’s stone chest was whole, his head a bald, smooth surface with no sign it had ever been broken apart.

The stone man was now just a shirtless, gaunt figure. Well over six feet tall, with thin limbs and sunken cheeks. A silent figure of stone with one boot and black, cargo pocket pants.

As suddenly as it began, the rain stopped.

Pooled water began to soak into the sand. Drops on the stone man’s skin trickled down his head and chest. Droplets began to fall from his chin. Then they stopped. The water clung to the stone surfaces of the man, defying gravity. Then it began to soak into the stone. The stone man changed from a wet, dark gray to a light, dry gray- every droplet of water absorbed into his statue-like body. The gray then faded, turning to tanned skin.                                                        

The stone man suddenly sat up- his mouth opening wide and gasping for air.