Gift of Dane: A Crabapple Gang Adventure - Volume One
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Dane and his friends use to live on a quiet, suburban street until a storm rolled in, and they learned their neighbor was a mad scientist. The portal in his lab has chosen them. Now an insane, rogue commander and otherworldly creatures are after them and what is on the other side of the portal.
David C. Baxter
David C. Baxter prefers flip-flops, tennis, an ocean breeze, and being called Dave. Unfortunately, he’s gluten intolerant, but he’s thankful it only took four years to find a gluten free beer that tastes like the real thing.
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Gift of Dane - David C. Baxter
Gift of Dane
A Crabapple Gang Adventure
Volume 1
By David C. Baxter
Copyright © 2017, David C. Baxter
Smashwords 3rd Edition
Click here for the next Volumes on Smashwords
No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, digitally, or mechanically without explicit written permission from the author.
Edited by Ann-Marie Trammell
Illustration by Corbin Baxter
For my nieces: Mackenzie, Macy, and Cameron. Thank you for inspiring me to write this novel.
And for my wife. Thank you for your constant support in all my side projects.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The Author
Prologue
Dane concentrated on the portal’s brilliant light. It swelled inches from his face but he couldn’t see through the swirling purple hues. Dizziness forced him to look down at the laser gun in his hand. Its metal casing reflected the purple light. It weighed surprisingly little, like a toy.
But this was no game.
How many times had he fired this gun? It fired a red laser for causing injury, like in Star Wars, but instead of a blue laser for stun, like in Star Trek, it fired pink.
So much had gone wrong. He’d nearly cost his friends their lives. And yet, they stood behind him in this laboratory, which resembled a set out of Resident Evil or X-Men.
Last night’s storm had unleashed creatures unlike any horror flick or graphic novel: a torrent of chaos and madness.
Unable to keep his hand from shaking, he laid the gun on the desk next to the computer monitor. No matter the danger, he couldn’t take the gun.
The purple light beckoned. He had an idea where it would transport them. There had been clues from the beginning.
He took a deep breath, telling himself the light wouldn’t evaporate him. And if it did, at least he wouldn’t have to keep reading Pride and Prejudice in Miss Bennett’s Honors English, so that was something.
But this was right. He and his friends had been chosen. They were the only ones that could save Mad Murry. He exhaled and took the step, knowing his friends would follow as they had all night.
01
Brim detested the rain. It added to the filth of this planet. He lengthened his strides. An overflow of water pattered off his wide hat as he entered the bridge’s tunnel. The sound of his boots on the cobblestones assaulted his supreme hearing. He gritted his teeth.
Mirk waited under the faint, artificial light. He must have entered before the rainstorm. His hair was dry and there were no droplets on his duster or shades.
The night’s storm is a sufficient cover for Andras,
Mirk said, tightening his black tie. Adequate since we do not retain our usual transport.
Sir Jeffrey sabotaged the car’s steering apparatus,
Brim said. He retrieved the tobacco pouch and paper from his duster.
The Spandex Men,
Mirk said, as Jeffrey calls them, have manifested near the location with a vehicle.
Why they use weapons of this planet’s time is confounding,
Brim said, sprinkling tobacco onto the paper. Its sweet smell made this place bearable.
Our indisposed automobile,
Mirk said, and Andras are of this world.
Brim completed rolling his cigarette. Pocketing the pouch, he said, The time has come to retrieve the artifacts. The talismans.
We must succeed,
Mirk said, I do not want Krimson involved.
Nor do I,
Brim growled. He glared at the cigarette. Its tip sparked a flame. He blew it out spewing ashes on Mirk’s shades. You are the pilot.
Mirk removed his shades and wiped them on his duster, white hair hung around his face. He jerked his head up, his cloudy eyes unfocused. An annoyance is nearing,
he said.
Wretched things,
Brim said, taking a drag of his cigarette. He peered over Mirk’s shoulder.
A twenty-something human rode in on a bicycle. It wore a disturbingly bright blue cap. The vile creature most likely sought safety from the strengthening storm. Humans had such an odd ability of appearing at the most inconvenient times.
Brim twirled the cigarette at the Earth weakling.
The bicycle swiftly u-turned out of the tunnel and down the sharp slope. A dull thud ended the human’s pathetic screams.
Shall we modify it?
Mirk asked. His smile revealed stained fangs.
Brim took another drag. I do not believe the bike-man detected us,
he replied, smoke rising around his face. A shame,
Brim said in a low raspy voice, humans’ faces contorted in horror is one of the job’s few perks.
He glanced at Mirk. You already fed.
Mirk put his shades back on. We will need energy,
he said. Krimson believes the fledglings have been chosen.
We shall deal with them completely,
Brim said. Their young do taste sweeter.
He dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his boot. This desecrated world must not obtain the ancient power.
Mirk’s shades reflected the bulb. He turned the light’s wire cage, clicking it into place. Beneath their long coats and pointed boots, the cobblestones broke away and slowly lowered.
Brim focused on the orange light. His slit pupil’s, smoky-grey in color, flashed red. The bulb flickered out. They descended into complete darkness.
CG
Out of the trees, ball cap skewed, the soaked bicyclist pushed his bike atop the muddy road. The young man didn’t see the silent, black helicopter lift from the nearby woods. He only spied Andras because it flew over him as lightening bolts severed the night sky.
02
A plump raindrop splashed on the walkie-talkie. Dane snatched it from his tree fort’s window ledge. He stuck his head out for a better view of his street. The wind carried the fragrance of rain.
Collin,
he said into the walkie-talkie, "it’s all Mike