Free Warlord Metal by D Jordan Redhawk Page B

into it. Well, tonight's the night for that. I've asked Jordan to be there and back me up. She could argue Moses out of the Ten Commandments if she wanted!
    I hope this works. I have a feeling that Warlord is going to get bigger and bigger now. I don't want Tom to lose his dream because of me.
    Hampton stood at the microphone, his bass slung low across his body. But his hands were still, holding the instrument under a hot spotlight. The rest of the stage was dark, but eerie strains of a guitar could be heard.
    There were some hoots and heckling from the audience who had paid to see the band that was going on next. For the most part, however, the crowd had been captivated. As Hampton sang the second stanza in a mellow tenor, a few lighters lit up the darkness at his feet.
    "I wear this crown of shit
    upon my liar's chair,
    full of broken thoughts
    that I cannot repair.
    Beneath the stains of time
    the feelings disappear.
    You are someone else.
    I am still right here."
    The guitar melody changed, a second adding its own voice. Hampton began playing his bass and red lighting lit up the stage with somber darkness, showing Atkins and Jordan playing their own instruments nearby.
    "What have I become,
    my sweetest friend?
    Everyone I know
    goes away in the end."
    And then the drums kicked in, hard and slow, pulsing in an almost erotic beat and leading the way for the rest of the band. The guitars picked up in volume and depth, the bass going along for the ride. Stage lights throbbed with the beat. Hampton's voice gained an edge of strength and pain.
    "You could have it all,
    my empire of dirt.
    I will let you down.
    I will make you hurt."
    His voice softened again, in direct contrast with the music backing him.
    "If I could start again
    a millions miles away,
    I would keep my Self.
    I would find a way."
    He hung on to the final note as the music reached a peak and came down in a crash of sound and light.
    There was silence for a split second before the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
    "Thank you, Seattle!" Atkins waved at the audience with a wide grin. Everyone took their bows and trotted off stage. Behind them, the MC - a local radio disc jockey - came out.
    "And that was Warlord, folks! Damn! Can those Portlanders rock or what?!" The crowd erupted loudly in agreement and he went on to introduce the next band.
    "That was great!" Sonny exclaimed as the band members approached her. She stepped into her brother's arms and hugged him before turning to the rest. "That song is really fantastic, Jordan!"
    The redhead's mouth quirked in a grin. "Thanks," she said in an off handed manner.
    The teenager thought she saw a flash of real pleasure at the compliment, despite the superior air the woman was giving off. You might act like you're all that, but I think I'm beginning to see past it. "Well, now what?"
    "We gotta get my kit and our gear packed up," Middlestead said, his dark blue eyes still sparkling with the excitement of being onstage.
    "Yeah," Hampton agreed. "Gotta gig in Salem tomorrow night. We wanna leave early in the morning." The shorter man looked pointedly at the two guitarists.
    Jordan smirked and Atkins looked offended.
    "What?!" he demanded.
    The redhead slapped him in the belly with the back of her hand. "He means we have to stay in the motel tonight."
    "Aw, Max! C'mon, man!" the tall man groaned. "There's this girl out front who's been ogling me all night."
    "There's always a girl, Lando," Sonny piped up. She flushed a little at the snicker from the smaller woman.
    Atkins said, "Well, yeah. I know that! But, this one -"
    "...is going to be without the benefits of your attentions tonight," Hampton ordered. "Or we're leaving your ass here when you don't show up in the morning."
    The tall man seriously appeared to be considering his chances of partying all night and still making it to the motel in the morning. And then whether or not it made a difference if he didn't make it in time. And what other options he had for