Hey everyone. I'm at New York Comic Con the next four days and want to guarantee you some awesome content while I'm away. I'll be uploading some horror stories I've written for your 31 Days of Horror enjoyment.
"Stone Cold" by Robert Gannon
His fingers combed the sand. Slow at first, to adjust to the searing surface. It was only 10 AM and the sun was already brutal.
Chad knew the dry heat broke away under the loose surface. One knuckle deep and the sand was cool. This is the kind of beach Chad liked. The cooler sand didn't stick to his sunscreen. It didn't blind him with mirrored reflections of the sun. No cigarettes or broken glass, either.
Chad adjusted his sunglasses. They were too loose. They weren't his, either. He was grateful his friend Ben had an extra pair, just in case.
Chad looked at his left hand. What started as a shallow respite from the heat became a small hole, deep as his fingers. He wasn't sure when it became so big. The dull brown color betrayed the damp texture.
"Chad," Ben said. "Take of your shirt, buddy. Get some color." Ben's skin was already pocked in red. The sunscreen washed off with one swim in the ocean.
"I'm good," Chad said. "Thanks."
A pile of sand spilled onto the blanket, burying the woven binding and fringe. He kept digging.
"At least go into the water," Ben said. "We only have three days left and you only got wet in the shower." Ben dripped onto the blanket.
"I don't do ocean," Chad said. He shifted toward the sand. The little hole grew to a miniature cave. Small shells littered the walls as relics of previous inhabitants.
"Dude," Ben said. "What are you doing?"
"Digging," Chad said.
"Why?" Ben asked.
"I don't know," Chad said. "It takes my mind off of the heat."
"So would jumping in the water," Ben said.
Chad widened the hole with his right hand. Sand slid back with every movement. He could put his arm in to his elbow. The sand grew darker with every handful. The sun's gaze couldn't see around Chad's body.
He hit Ben with a fistful of sand. Ben sat up, sand caked in his hair.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Watch where you're throwing." Ben rolled off the blanket. The grains of sand slipped under his knees, knocking him face down. He spat out a mouthful of sand.
"Shh," Chad whispered. "Be quiet. I think I found something."
Ben could hardly hear his friend. He propped himself onto his elbows and walked his feet underneath him.
The hole was big. The walls were sloped, gradually getting smaller toward the bottom. Ben realized Chad hadn't whispered. His head was in the hole.
"Whoa," Ben said. He was breathless. How could the hole have grown so much so fast?
Chad pulled his head up and said, "Look. You can just catch the reflection if you look just right."
Ben leaned over the growing hole.
"Not like that!" Chad shouted. "Like this." He clawed into Ben's sunburned shoulders and repositioned his body. "Right about there. At 2:45. Hour hand."
The reflected light flipped in and out of focus as Chad waved his arm over the reflection. A tiny cap of glowing light flickered red against the graduated sand. Ben pushed the shifting grains away from the light.
A small stone broke through the surface. A gem, really. The light and beauty seemed to radiate from within. The fiery waves grew stronger in Ben’s shadow.
“What is that?” Ben asked.
“What’s what?” Chad pushed Ben from the hole. “I found it. I’m keeping it.” Chad dove back into the hole, kicking up enough sand be covered through his chest.
The stone was longer than it looked. It radiated with all the shades of the rainbow. A cluster of colors blinded his senses as he dug deeper.
The hole grew large enough for Ben to climb in, too. Blue, green, and purple dots flew toward the flaming sky as the surface of the shore fell further away. In the distance, tiny spots of blue shifted pink and purple. A thumbnail moon was barely noticeable in the distance.
Chad and Ben didn't care. They pushed against each other, determined to stake their claim on the stone.
“There’s no way you could pick it up. Just get out and leave the lifting to the real men,” said Ben. He snarled at his friend, growling out threats like a cornered dog. The stone acquiesced to his touch, joining his cracked flesh. “See. It wants me.”
“Like hell it does!” Chad jumped in the hole reaching the crest of yellows above Ben’s head. The landing stuck. It’s liked the peak of the stone was made for him. “Just let go and I'll help you out.”
Ben knew he was trapped. The waves crashed closer to the hole, sprinkling the tired pair with a salty brew. He could rip out the stone and leave them both to drown or claw his way out and recover the bounty later.
But Ben’s hand couldn't release. He was so close. His grip tightened against the stone, filling every gap and angle with aching flesh. He couldn't pull away if he wanted to.
Chad was in a worse spot, anyway. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't swing off of the stone. He kicked his foot against the expanding spire and trapped leg in green. He could see the color flow into his toes.
Ben’s burned shoulders marbled with the cool blues and purples overtaking his body. This proved the stone was his.
The seawater kissed the edge of the hole, breaking the heat Chad tried to escape all afternoon. The friends wrapped around the warmth of the glowing stone, twisting flesh and bone to the sand-buffed gem concealing itself in millions of grains of burning hot sand.
"Stone Cold" is from the collection Take Out & Other Stories, target="_blank">available on Amazon.