Winters Fury (Stone Soldiers #12)

CHAPTER ONE

Josie Winters was on the Moon and she was flying. The harsh, gray soil of the cold lunar surface whizzed by beneath her as she soared along, her arms stretched out before her. Her chest breathed in and out despite the lack of atmosphere on the dead satellite of her home planet–purely an involuntary action. Ahead of her, the Earth loomed bright, a blue-green gem hanging above a bleak horizon, frustratingly out of reach.

She looked down at the gray soil passing by beneath her, watching it intently as she propelled herself along by sheer willpower. The gray powder, almost-white in the sun, looked like sand–the thin, fine sand of her native Arizona... sand studded with scrub brush, rocks and even a lizard. 

She looked back up at the horizon, the Moon hanging low in the sky over the desert, the sun behind her. She was much closer to the ground now, the wind from her rapid flight blowing her long hair past her shoulders. She rose up, soaring over a slight rise in the landscape, then back down. It was a familiar sensation.

She gripped the throttle of her motorcycle tightly, twisting and sending her motorbike surging ahead even faster. She was half-standing on the foot pegs now, crouched low, leaning forward, almost over the handlebars. She felt the ground rise and drop below her as she guided her motorcycle along. Sand, thrown up by her tires, bounced off the visor of her helmet.

Josie glanced over at her friend, watching him struggling to keep up with her. He wasn’t as good a rider as she was. If they kept this pace going, he’d eventually take a painful spill. She decided to ease back on the throttle.

Something on her right, just out of the corner of her eye, caught her attention. Josie started to turn her head to see what it was, but she was too slow. 

Her whole world crashed in on her. She was flung violently aside, bones breaking, her body tumbling and twisting from the impact. That brief glimpse of what had struck her stayed in her mind like a snapshot–a tractor trailer, its lights on, the air horn blaring...

***

Josie Winters opened her eyes suddenly, pupils shrinking to tiny dots from the bright, white light all around her. She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t respond. She tried to gag, but could not–something was in her throat. Sound filled her ears–an electronic beeping from very close by.

She tried to struggle, but her body wouldn’t respond. She felt heavy and tired, as though the very air was pushing down on her.

Her eyes at last adjusted, and Josie found herself staring up at a ceiling made of white tiles and fluorescent lights. 

Nurse! Nurse! a man’s voice called out in a panic from nearby. Josie wanted to turn her head to see where it came from, but she couldn’t move.

She’s awake! She’s awake!

The patter of feet built in intensity and she felt a hand grab hers. It was rough–with callouses and dry skin. Another hand touched her forehead lightly, stroking the skin lightly.

Josie? Josie, can you hear me?

The voice was familiar somehow. She couldn’t place it. She noticed the room was slowly spinning. She had to close her eyes for a moment, to get her bearings. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

When she re-opened her eyes, she saw a familiar set of brown ones looking back at hers: Jimmy’s.

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but whatever tube had been put in her throat prevented that. Jimmy Kane, her best friend since childhood, leaned in closer whispering soothingly.

You’re okay, Josie, you’re okay...

What seemed like just moments ago was clearly not. The Jimmy she knew was a pale-faced boy with a mop of unkempt, dirty-blonde hair. He had wide eyes and a perpetual look of fear and curiosity. But not this Jimmy.

For one thing, Kane’s hair was virtually gone now. It had been cropped very short, less than a half inch long. His color was no longer the pale white of a basement-dweller, but a hinted at a tan. Eyes that had once held child-like innocence seemed tired and worn out, reminding Josie of her mother.

People were rushing into the room now and Jimmy was pulled away. Nurses crowded around Josie, checking her over, feeling at her pulse, checking her eyes and fussing with her tubes and life support equipment.

A red-haired woman leaned in close. She had pale skin–creamy white, like fine porcelain. It was perfect, unblemished skin that contrasted with full, blood-red lips. Green eyes sparkled from the pleasant, beautiful face of the pale woman.

Josie? Josie, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.

Josie realized that the coarse hand from a moment ago had been that of Jimmy’s. It was replaced now with a cool, smooth hand–with skin as soft as a baby’s.

The red-haired doctor pulled a penlight from a pocket and shone it into Josie’s eyes–the pupils contracted painfully, and Josie tried to wince from the sudden, bright light.

Good pupillary response, the young doctor announced.

She pulled the light away and leaned in close again. Josie, can you hear me?

Something about the doctor seemed familiar. Josie was sure they’d never met before–she’d never forget someone with such flawless skin and such blazing red hair. She was a bit jealous of the doctor’s looks.

Again, she tried to move, to squeeze the soft hand holding hers. But her eyes just wouldn’t stay open. Her lids sank and she was sleeping once more.

***

The doctor’s name was Olson–as indicated by the name tag pinned on her clean, white doctor’s coat. She was still there when Josie awoke again.

The room was just as bright as before, so Josie had no idea how long it had been. But the breathing tube in her throat was gone now, replaced by a thin tube under her nose, with small plastic nubs protruding into her nostrils. They were feeding her oxygen.

The heavy feeling in her limbs was gone too. She’d was able to move a bit, to squeeze the hand holding hers when asked. And she was sitting up–her bed angled so she was no longer looking up at the tiles in the ceiling.

The doctor had cleared the room of all but one orderly–a very young-looking lad with bright blond hair and brighter blue eyes. He looked no older than Josie.

W-where–?

She was finally able to speak. Her throat and her mouth were dry. The young man–identified by a name tag that read Trumball–stepped up with a cup, offering her a small plastic spoon of crushed ice.

Josie let the ice melt on her tongue. It was more delicious and soothing than she ever could have imagined.

The redheaded doctor–Olson–checked her pulse again. Josie tried to turn her head, but the action made her wince. She had a headache the size of the Grand Canyon.

She opened her mouth for more ice and the blue-eyed nurse responded, giving her another spoonful while watching her intently. She tried to rise a hand for the cup, but she still felt weak.

Josie, do you know where you are? the doctor asked.

The hospital, she croaked in reply. Her voice was raspy and hoarse, no doubt from the feeding tube.

The doctor smiled, revealing perfect teeth. That’s right. Do you remember the accident?

Accident? Josie’s dream flooded back into her consciousness. A tractor trailer had hit her. But how? They had been riding miles from any highway."

A truck? she croaked.

The doctor and boy-nurse exchanged glances of concern.

No dear, the doctor responded. It was a car. Can you remember the car?

Josie raised a hand up, her arm trailing tubes and wires as she did so. She went to rub at her head.

Her hand froze. Her hair was short, like Jimmy’s. Her scalp had been shaved.

My hair? she blurted out in surprise, raising another hand.

The doctor lightly grabbed Josie’s hands, her voice almost husky, re-assuring. You’re okay–it’ll grow back. Everything’s fine now.

Where–? Josie could feel panic creeping in now. She turned her head, looking around the room.

There was a bright blue sky outside her windows. Inside the room, everything looked typical and normal–bland wallpaper, too many electrical outlets, and harsh, fluorescent lights overhead. Pictures of tropical beaches hung on the wall, and a flat screen TV was on the wall.

That was odd. The TV was at least thirty-two inches. Pretty fancy for a hospital.

The doctor lowered Josie’s hands back to the bed, and took the cup and spoon from the blue-eyed nurse. She scooped out a little ice and offered it to her patient.

Josie wanted the ice–badly, but that panic rising up in her wouldn’t be quelled.

Where am I? What happened?

You were in a motor vehicle accident, the doctor replied, still holding the spoon up, just inches from Josie’s mouth.

Jimmy?

He’s outside waiting for you."

Carlos? Kendall? Lo–?

The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who are they?

Josie looked around again, trying to sit up more in her bed but too weak to do so. Her eyes fell on the plastic identification card hanging from the blue-eyed nurse’s scrubs.

Miami-Dade General Hospital, the ID read.

Josie’s eyes went wide.

Josie? the doctor asked.

Josie Winters smacked the cup of ice out of the doctor’s hand–a feat that took all her strength. Where am I? What happened?

I told you– the doctor started to say.

Josie was in a full-blown panic now. She feebly grabbed at the wires stuck in her arm, pulling at them. Then a wave of nausea swept over her, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she passed out.

CHAPTER TWO

We can’t stay in orbit this long, Mistress, the commander of the ship bleated like a wounded cow.

His pale skin was wrinkled up like a prune over his bushy white eyebrows, worry etched in deep lines that covered his whole face.

Josie Winters turned back to the windows of the saucer ship, looking back out at the Earth so far below. It was so much bigger from here than it had appeared on the Moon.

From this height, she could make out coastlines and oceans with clouds drifting by. But she didn’t know where she was looking.

How can you not know where we are? she demanded, turning back to the crew of the ship.

All three of the tall, slender Nordics bowed their heads, trembling in fear of what she might do to them. Their long hair, brushed hair–straight like Josie’s– reached past their elbows.

I mean, how is it you can navigate through space, make it all the way here, and then not know where the Hell you are?

Her voice was trembling with rage and her cheeks were hot. This was not what she wanted to hear right now.

For months and months, she had been forced to live on the Moon with the white-haired men now piloting her craft–and with their goblin-like minions. Months she had fumed and lashed out with all the rage she could muster.

Many a Nordic had died at her hand–or rather, by her mind. She had incinerated, flash frozen, and ripped apart the former minions of Hubal with ease whenever they displeased her. Her rule of the Moon had been with two iron fists, and was unquestioned and unchallenged.

But she hadn’t wanted to rule the Moon. She wanted revenge–revenge on those who had trapped her there. So, she had put her new minions to work, rebuilding. This saucer-shaped vessel, capable of crossing the immense void between Earth and Moon, had been rebuilt. A crew of Nordics able to fly it had been assembled. And she had set out for her revenge.

Mistress, we normally do not care where we are, one of the pilots whispered fearfully.

Josie considered vaporizing him, but it took three of them to fly the craft. Not even she could fly it alone, even though she was the one who had powered it up for this journey.

She turned back to the viewports again, trying to make out some kind of detail on the land masses below. If she could just orient herself, then she could get back to Miami–and begin her revenge.

The craft violently lurched in place, throwing Josie from her feet. Metal rang like a gong as the whole ship shuddered. Heat and flame swept up from the main deck below, burning her flight crew.

They had been hit.

Josie climbed back to her feet, reaching out with her senses past the silvery hull of the saucer-shaped ship. An enormous hole was in the bottom of the craft now. It had blown away a good portion of the lower hull and most of the drive components. Those crew members she’d brought along to maintain the charge in the Vril tank in the center of the ship were gone–either blown apart or sucked out into space.

Her attackers were far away, out of reach of her abilities. Two black aircraft–spaceplanes–that were racing away at supersonic speeds in the upper reaches of Earth’s atmosphere.

Josie didn’t recognize the aircraft. They were like nothing she’d ever seen. But she didn’t have time to think about that. Her ship was moving downwards, toward the planet’s surface now–the blast having propelled it forward with momentum she no longer had a drive to stop.

***

Four years ago, Josie Winters had graduated high school with honors and was on her way to college. She and her friends had decided to have one last outing together into the desert near their homes–in Arizona. And that was the last thing Josie remembered.

When she awoke in her hospital room a third time, Josie again found her childhood friend, Jimmy, at her side, along with Doctor Olson, the blue-eyed boy named Trumball, and two new nurses. She remained calm–primarily due to the sedatives she had been given.

Barely able to speak, she had asked her questions with considerably more decorum this time. And thanks to the sedatives, the answers hadn’t freaked her out nearly as much.

Josie had been in an auto accident–in Florida. Struck from the side by a car running a red light, she’d been knocked unconscious and rushed to the hospital with life-threatening injuries which included swelling of her brain. Her condition had been stabilized, but Josie had slipped into a coma. That was three months ago.

How she got to be in Florida, and where the past four years of her life had gone were a complete mystery to Josie–something Doctor Olson explained was no doubt due to this latest head injury, but which might only be temporary.

As it turned out, this was Josie’s second car crash in four years. The first had been during her outing in the desert four years ago. Jimmy had provided the details–which included a tractor trailer hitting Josie while she was on her motorcycle.

This previous crash, and new head injury were probably responsible for her memory loss, Josie learned.

She took the news well–again, thanks to her sedatives. She laid back in her bed, and stared up at the ceiling, sipping at cold water from a cup Jimmy held in his left hand while the medical staff filed out of the room, leaving the two friends alone.

Her eyes were clued to the bright gold wedding band around Jimmy’s ring finger.

You’re married, she at last murmured, her tongue thick in her mouth, her eyelids heavy from the medication she’d been given.

She felt a little like she had when her wisdom teeth were removed six–no, ten– years ago.

Jimmy smiled and began to refill her cup from a pitcher that was the same beige color as the rest of the room.

Everything in the room was beige, or white, or tan. Everything except Jimmy’s uniform. Now that Doctor Olson had left, taking her bright red hair and lips with her, Jimmy’s camouflage uniform was the only color in the otherwise monochromatic room.

"And you’re in the