Survivor Skills

by S. E. Smith

  “Damn it,” Gabe muttered under his breath. “I don’t need a dead body on my boat.”

  He gently rolled the body over, pulled away the netting tangled around it, and gasped when he saw that it belonged to a woman. Yanking off his gloves, he carefully brushed the long tangle of midnight hair back from her pale face. He touched the icy skin of her neck, feeling for a pulse, and pulled back in surprise when she shuddered and moaned.

  He gently touched her cheek again, smoothing back a long strand of hair. She was deathly pale with dark shadows under her eyes. His shocked brain also noted that she was beautiful in a weird, exotic way.

  “Hey, lady,” Gabe said in a rough voice. “Can you hear me?”

  He watched in fascination as her lush, black eyelashes fluttered for a moment before she opened her eyes. He gazed down into crystal-clear green eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder who in the hell she was and why she was miles off the Pacific Coast in freezing water. He was just about to ask her when she rolled to her side and threw up all over his rubber boots.

  “Ah, hell,” he muttered, looking down at the heaving figure.

  Half an Hour Earlier:

  Magna softly moaned as the pain from her shoulder pulled her to consciousness for a brief moment. The pain was the first thing telling her that she hadn’t died from her Starburst spell. The gentle sway of her body surrounded by water and the feeling of weightlessness was the second thing.

  For a brief moment, she wondered if the Goddess had granted her a measure of compassion. That thought quickly fled when she tried to move and was in too much pain and too exhausted to do it. The current flowed around her, sweeping her along the rocky bottom, and she was powerless to prevent herself from bumping against the rocks, causing even more excruciating pain to radiate through her. The spell had taken every ounce of energy she had left.

  Eventually, an upwelling current caused her to rise, mercifully giving her a measure of relief. As she floated along, Magna didn’t bother opening her eyes. She preferred not knowing where she was for fear of waking up and discovering it was all an illusion and she was once more a captive inside her own body. She wanted to hold onto the feel of the water surrounding her, even if it came with pain.

  She listlessly floated for what seemed like an eternity before something wrapped around her. The weight of the coarse threads pushed her back down to the bottom. She tried to lift her hand and push it away, but it was useless. She was too weak. She gave up, and let it take her. Deciding that her dream was coming to another agonizing end, she gave in to the darkness.

  She awoke again when she was lifted out of the soothing comfort of the water. She wanted to scream in protest, but the scream came out as a soft moan. As she was lowered onto a hard surface, a stray tear slipped from the corner of her eye and grief filled her. All hope was gone. She couldn’t fight the creature any longer. The only way she could still be alive was if she had failed. Nausea rose in her throat when the cold air connected with the wound in her shoulder. A protest formed on her lips when she was suddenly rolled onto her back.

  A shudder swept through her when a warm hand pressed against her neck. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring up into a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes. The combination of pain and the movement of her body was too much for her rebellious stomach. Rolling to the side, she ejected the last remnants of the dead creature from her stomach all over the man’s scuffed up white boots.

  She dropped her head to the side when she was done. She was too weak and tired to bother lifting it. Instead, she closed her eyes and shuddered again as the darkness rose up to claim her. She hoped this time it was for good. She really was too tired to fight any longer.

  Gabe contemplated the woman lying on the deck of his boat as he knelt next to her limp body. There was a little more color in her face now that she’d thrown up. Muttering a series of expletives under his breath, he gently scooped her up in his arms and rose to his feet. He squinted, and carefully searched the water nearby before looking up to scan the horizon. There wasn’t another boat in sight. He looked toward the rocky coast. Hell, he was at least a mile offshore. There was no way the woman swam that distance, especially wearing an evening gown.

  He looked down at her again and froze. The gown on her left shoulder was bright red with fresh blood. He tightened his lips into a firm line and he walked toward the lower galley and cabin area.

  Awkwardly navigating the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief when the woman didn’t react as he shifted her around to fit through the doorway. He walked over to his bunk and gently laid her down, then turned on the light above his bed. He gripped the material on her shoulder and ripped it open. His eyes widened, and he paled when he saw the evidence hidden beneath the silky material.

  “Shot?” he hissed, glancing back up at her pale face. “Lady, what the hell happened to you? Why would anyone shoot you and dump your ass in the Pacific?”

  He gently lifted her enough to see the other side of her shoulder. There was no exit wound. Gabe stood up and pulled open the cabinet above the bed. He pulled out the first aid kit and sat back down. Setting the kit down on the bed, he opened it and pulled out some gauze bandage and tape. There wasn’t much he could do for her on the boat. It wasn’t the cleanest place in the world and he didn’t have the medical expertise to remove a bullet. He would patch her up as best he could and radio for assistance.

  He quickly dried the area, covered the wound with the clean gauze, and taped it down. He looked at the relaxed lines of the woman’s face. She hadn’t moved an inch during his clumsy patch job. Unable to resist, he reached out and turned her face toward him. Her features were arresting. She didn’t look like she was of European descent, but she didn’t look like she had any Asian ancestry either. His fingers ran down her pale cheek.

  A slight, rusty smile curved his lips before a frown creased his brow when he noticed a thin line along the right side of her pale neck. It started just behind her ear and curved down about two inches. Another line of faint but colorful tattoos ran down beside it. He reached out to touch the marks but quickly pulled back when he felt the smooth, glossy texture of each design. They reminded him of…

  “Scales?” he muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head. “What the hell is going on?”

  Standing, he quickly deposited the scraps from the bandage into the trash. He returned the first aid kit to the cabinet before he grabbed a thin blanket and covered her with it. He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think if there was anything else he should do before he returned to the upper deck.

  He decided he had done the best he could for the moment. Glancing down one last time to make sure the woman was still unconscious, he turned on his heel and strode back up the stairs. It looked like it was going to be a long night. He grimaced when his stomach growled in protest again. Dinner would have to be pushed back until his unexpected guest was safely delivered into the hands of the proper authorities.

  Gabe quickly secured the net and made sure the deck, and his boots, were cleared and cleaned before he stepped through the passage to the bridge. He pushed the throttle forward, slowly picking up speed, and headed for home again. He reached for the mic on his radio, then paused. With a low growl of frustration, he pulled his hand back and ran it through his disheveled hair before he reached for his cell phone instead.

  His gaze flickered from the sea in front of him to the phone. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He had three bars. Pressing the phone icon, he punched in the number he knew by heart.

  “This is Kane,” a distracted voice said on the other end.

  “I need help,” Gabe bit out in a sharp voice.

  There was a slight pause before Kane spoke again. “How bad?” Kane asked.

  “Gunshot to the left shoulder,” Gabe replied.

  This time the pause was filled with a low hiss. “Who’d you piss off this time?” Kane asked sharply. “You know I’m supposed to report anything like th
is.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Gabe said in a low voice. “It’s not me this time. Just be at my house in an hour. I’ll be coming in from the dock.”

  “I’ll be there,” Kane responded in a tense voice. “You sure you don’t want to come to the clinic?”

  Gabe’s lips twisted in a sardonic grin. “Naw,” he said. “Then you’d really feel like you had to report it.”

  The sound of a frustrated sigh made Gabe thankful he wasn’t onshore yet. Kane wasn’t above bending the rules or looking the other way when he felt it was necessary, but Gabe wouldn’t ask his friend to jeopardize his practice or his medical license by having to cover for him there. Now, coming to his house… What happened there, stayed there.

  “One of these days I’m going to ignore it when you call,” Kane threatened. “I’ll be at the dock.”

  “Thanks, man,” Gabe replied in a soft voice. “Something tells me that this should be kept quiet.”

  “You can explain when we’re together,” Kane retorted.

  “Right now, there’s not much to explain,” Gabe admitted. “I’ll be coming around the point in about forty minutes.”

  Gabe clicked the phone off and slid it back into his pocket. Exactly forty minutes later, he automatically swung wide into the mouth of the narrow inlet and slowly pulled back on the throttle so he wouldn’t create a wake. Frustration ate at him, and his fingers twitched in impatience on the throttle. He knew the feeling of restlessness and unease was due to his unexpected passenger.

  “I hope to hell this doesn’t become more complicated,” he grunted as he navigated the narrow, winding passage to the dock below his house.

  The Sea Witch’s Redemption

  Sample of Dust: Before and After

  2016 Gold Winner of the Wishing Shelf Book Awards!

  Synopsis:

  Dust wakes to discover the world as he knew it is gone after fragments of a comet hit the Earth. It isn’t the only thing that has changed, though, so has Dust…

  Read on for more than a full chapter of Dust: Before and After!

  Chapter 1

  Before and After

  Dust woke from his sleep, blinking up at the dark gray skies. He could see the swirl of acidic clouds through the hole in the ceiling. It took a moment for his body to catch up with his mind.

  He often forgot to focus on it. Since the morning he woke up alone in a collapsed building that had once been his home, he realized that things would never be the same. Before, he was just a fourteen year old boy who loved playing video games and hated going to school. A year had passed since the day the comet hit the Earth. A year since the strange cloud had washed through the small town where he had lived Before. That is what he called his life... Before. Now, he was in the After.

  His body wrenched as it came back to its solid form. He was used to the feeling now and thought no more about his unusual ability to dissolve into the shadows. Rising up off the floor, he stretched and twisted. Glancing around, he walked over to the bent metal cabinet where he had hidden his knapsack. It contained one pair of jeans, one shirt, a clean pair of underwear and socks, and a bottle of water.

  With a wave of his hand, the debris in front of the cabinet rose up into the air and moved. He opened the door and pulled out the dark green knapsack he had found in one of his many excursions over the past year. Slinging the strap over his shoulder, he turned and quietly left the building.

  Dust paused on the sidewalk outside the small convenience store where he had taken refuge. His disheveled brown hair stuck out in all directions. Glancing around, his dark brown eyes paused on a moving shadow between two abandoned cars halfway down the street. The sense of danger rose in his gut. His gaze narrowed on the three shadowy forms that slowly stepped out from between them.

  Devil dogs.

  He didn't know if that was what they were really called, but that was the name he had given them. They were like him... different.

  Turning, he slipped the straps over his shoulders so he could run faster. It was time to move on. Where there were three of the creatures, there could be more. Dust felt the adrenaline surge through him as he took off at a steady pace, glancing back and forth as he ran through the center of the small town he had arrived in late the night before. He had hoped to find food. The changes to his body demanded that he eat more often.

  Food wasn't always the easiest thing to find. The lack of it was what had finally forced him to leave the small town where he had lived with his family during the time Before. As the sole survivor, he had foraged for every piece of food he could find during the past year until he could find no more.

  Dust didn't bother turning to see where the creatures were. He knew they would follow him. They were hungry. He knew, because he felt the same hunger. There would be a fight, of that he had no doubt. Up ahead was the shell of a two-story building. With a wave of his hand, the door was ripped off its hinges and it flew out behind him. He heard a snarl and a thud. They were closer than he'd realized.

  Sprinting across the sidewalk, he disappeared into the shadows and allowed his body to dissolve. It would be difficult to keep his shadow form for long. He desperately needed food if he was going to continue using the amount of energy that he needed to maintain this form. Scooping up a metal pipe as he flew by, he turned just as the first shape came through the door behind him. The end of the pipe caught the creature in the chest, impaling it and driving him back against the wall. His body solidified at the force and the wind was knocked from him as he slammed into the wall.

  The creature's glowing red eyes flashed and its jaws snapped, but he could already see the light fading. He immediately recognized that the creatures must be starving to attack him so boldly. Not only that, they couldn't hold their shadow form any longer than he could. He pressed the metal rod down to the floor and forced the metal tip further through the beast and twisted it. The creature's loud snarls turned to a scream before silence engulfed the room. Dust didn't wait. There were at least two left, possibly more.

  Ripping the pipe out of the creature, he turned toward the open stairwell. The faint sound of glass crunching under heavy feet pulled his gaze to the ceiling. He could hear one of them. It must have gone through an upper level window. Dust's jaw tightened. He would have to kill all of them or the creatures would follow him and he would never find food or rest. His fingers wrapped around the cool metal and he started up the steps, taking them in a slow, steady climb. He was almost to the top when the huge black creature appeared at the top of the stairs.

  Dust glanced over his shoulder when he heard a second snarl behind him. He was stuck between the two beasts. Glancing back and forth, he realized that they had set up a trap for him. A shiver ran through him. He started when the one above him suddenly jumped. Focusing, he used more of his precious energy. The creature flashed through his body, sending a wave of nausea through him. His body once more solidified and he thrust upward, pushing the rod through its soft underbelly while it was still in the air. He allowed the weight of the creature to twist him around. The force of the movement and his gradually weakening strength tore the metal pipe from his hands as it crashed into the beast moving up the stairs at the same time.

  Stumbling back against the wall, he watched as the dying creature struck its companion. He gripped the stairwell and pulled himself up. He needed to find another weapon before the last beast regained its footing. His legs shook as he half crawled, half climbed the stairs. He barely had time to roll to the side before the third creature came up through the narrow opening and turned. Dust rolled to his stomach, his gaze froze on the heaving chest and foaming jaws. His arms trembled and he knew he didn't have the strength to dissolve.

  He pushed upward in a slow, steady movement, never taking his eyes off the beast. He was almost to his feet when it sprang. Jumping, he twisted to the side and rolled. Almost immediately he was back on his feet and twisting around. The beast had slid into a large wooden desk. The force of its body hitting the desk shattered
one of the legs and the heavy piece of furniture collapsed on top of it. He took advantage of the reprieve, darting down the staircase. He jumped over the dead creature at the bottom, tearing out the metal pipe protruding from its chest. Running, he burst back outside.

  A loud crash resounded behind him. Dust didn't pause. Spying an abandoned SUV with its door partially open across the street, he pushed every ounce of energy he had left inside him to his quivering legs. He reached out and grabbed the door handle, pulling it open far enough to squeeze through. He barely had time to pull it closed before the beast hit the door with enough force to knock the SUV onto two wheels. The force of the blow knocked Dust across the console and into the passenger seat. He quickly pulled his legs up when the glass on the driver's door shattered.

  Dust fumbled for the handle behind him as the beast thrust its long black head inside, its jaws snapping viciously at his legs. Blood dripped on the fine leather interior from where the ragged glass cut into the beast's neck. That didn't stop it. If anything, the creature became more enraged, clawing at the glass and pulling it away so it could try to wiggle into the vehicle. Dust kicked out, striking the canine-like snout. It jerked its head back, giving him just enough room to grab the door handle. He fell out the other side, landing heavily on his back. Kicking his foot out again, he slammed the door just as the creature jumped into the driver's seat.

  Rolling stiffly onto his hands and knees, he gripped the metal rod in his hand and rose to his feet. Glancing back at the snarling beast, he took off running. It was only a matter of seconds before he heard the sound of breaking glass again. Ducking under a torn awning, he darted through the open door of another building. It didn't take long for him to realize his mistake. The back section of the building was blocked by fallen debris. The only thing separating him from death was a tall refrigerated display case and the metal pipe in his hand. Turning, he backed up as the dark shadow paused in the entrance.