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Authors: Rachel Cron

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followed the signs that led them to their dressing room and went in to

check to make sure all their equipment made it safely.

Rainne left the band in the room, and she and James went into the

hallway. Rainne wanted to see the crowd that had accumulated.

Approaching the backstage area, she was cut off by a sour-faced

girl dressed all in black.

James quickly jumped in front of her to shield her from what he

thought was an assault.

“It’s okay.” She stepped around him. “This is Glory. She’s in

another band playing here tonight.”

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Rachel Cron

Glory straightened up and threw James a flirtatious smile. “That’s

right. I am. I’m in the band that’s going to win.” Her smile turned to a sneer. “I’m offended that these other bands are even here when it’s

obvious who’s going to go home with the record deal.”

Rainne couldn’t stand this girl. Her father owned the most

overpriced music store in town, and she was sure to have a ridiculous

laser show in-store trying to sway the judges in her favor. “Glory, the

only thing offensive is the music your band will be

playing…and…maybe your breath.” Rainne leaned in as if to tell her

a secret. “Really, have you heard of Tic-Tacs?” she asked

sarcastically.

Glory shot her a nasty look. “Ah, Rainne, so clever.” She smiled

with no humor on her face. Turning to James, she rubbed his muscled

arm. “Maybe after the show I could show you a good time, baby?”

James gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm off his. “I’m

sorry, but I have plans with my fiancé.” He stepped back and put his

arm around Rainne’s shoulder and placed a kiss in her hair.

Glory paled and stormed away angrily.

Rainne giggled softly. “That was fun. I haven’t seen her that mad

since we toilet-papered her band’s bus.”

James looked at her, smiling. “Who is she?”

“Oh, she’s just some little, spoiled rich girl who can’t tell the

difference between true punk rock and the bubblegum punk her band

churns out.” She led him to the curtain and peered out.

The arena was full. Fans were pressed against the stage, their

faces awash with anticipation. Reporters and police lined the walls.

The doors in the back were open, and she could see people being

searched and going through the metal detectors.

“We better get back to the dressing room. They’re starting in a

few minutes,” James said at her ear, tugging on her a bit to lead her

back.

Entering the dressing room, the band members were all smiles.

“Why all the happiness?” Rainne wondered aloud.

Punk Rox Warrior

153

Rebecca held up a green laminated sheet with #5 on it. “We drew

while you were gone and we’re last!” She was squealing in

excitement.

James was confused. “That’s good?”

Rainne smiled up at him. “That’s awesome. You want to go last,

especially during a competition. You will be the last one the judges

and audience see before voting. Plus, you can make sure you don’t

copy anybody else’s moves or introductions.”

They all moved to the backstage area to listen to the competition.

The announcer was onstage starting the show.

“Hello, Fort Myers!” His voice boomed, trying to rile the crowd.

“Welcome to the fifth annual battle of the bands! Tonight we have a

hell of a show lined up. The fifth place winners will get a $100 gift

certificate to Melodies Music, located right here in Fort Myers. The

fourth place winners will receive a $250 gift certificate to Melodies

Music. The third place winners will get a $500 gift certificate to

Melodies Music, and the second place will receive a $1,000 gift

certificate to, you guessed it, Melodies Music. The winner of this

competition will receive a six-record recording deal with GMB

Records.” He paused as the crowd applauded. “Are you ready, Fort

Myers?” The crowd erupted in applause. “Let’s welcome to the stage

a band from Tampa, Florida! The Chocolate Covered Kittens!” The

audience cheered as the announcer ran from the stage and the band

struck their first cord.

“Oh, I love these guys!” Annie said as they all swayed to the

music.

The night was full of excitement, and electricity was in the air as

they slowly went through the bands. Next up were the Zombie Eaters
.

Rainne thought they could have been a good band if the singer hadn’t

been drunk and all their songs weren’t about doing drugs.

The third band to the stage was Glory’s band, Shenanigans. As

suspected, the laser light show was more impressive than the music.

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Rachel Cron

The fourth band was one of Rainne’s favorite of the night
,
Oreo’s Revenge.
Not only were they a tight group, but nice guys, too.

The band left the stage with a “Good night, Fort Myers!” As the

singer ran past Rainne backstage, he paused for a brief moment and

smiled. “Hey, Rainne, good luck tonight.”

Rainne called after him, “Thanks. You, too.”

She looked at her bandmates and asked, “Are we ready?”

They all clasped hands in a tight circle and looked at each other.

Rainne slowly removed her sling and stretched out her shoulder.

She smiled at her friends and shouted. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah!” they all replied loudly.

“Ready for what?” she shouted back.

“Ready to rock!” they all screamed in unison and hit the stage.

James watched as Rainne slowed in the darkness of the stage. She

made it to the glowing X in the floor which showed her where to

stand.

The announcer was onstage once again, introducing her band.

“Fort Myers, give it up for your very own Noise Box!” He He ran off

stage as the crowd exploded with cheers.

The curtain opened as one singular blue spotlight shone on Rainne

alone. “Let’s hear some noise, Fort Myers!” Rainne screamed into the

microphone, and the crowd was eating it up like hungry dogs.

* * * *

James heard a soft bass line being played in the background. It

seemed to build ever so slowly as Rainne stepped up and took the

mic.

“There are many things I will never know, many questions I’ll

never answer.”

She sang softly as the drums added to the bass line.

“Books that will never be read and places I will never see.”

Punk Rox Warrior

155

The rhythm guitar started playing into the melody drifting through

the air, and still it was building.

“As long as he loves me as I love him, I’ll never miss not

witnessing the rest.”

The lead guitar struck a power cord and the stage exploded in

color and sound. Rainne’s voice chimed in harmony with the band.

“Punk Rocks Warrior.”

They sang the chorus.

As the song came to a close, James’s chest was filled with pride at

the crowd’s response. The sound was deafening. The band threw

themselves into another more upbeat tempo song, and Rainne seemed

in her element.

James faded back into the curtain and tapped his Bluetooth unit.

“Report.”

“All good, boss,” Sam said. “She looks great, and they seem to be

the favorite to win from what the crowd has been saying.”

James peeked out into the crowd as their second song stopped and

they started up the third and last performance of the night. He spotted

some commotion on the right side of the crowd and heard screaming

that didn’t sound like fan appreciation.

“Ash!” he barked.

“I’m on it, boss,” Ash answered.

Before another word could be comprehended or another breath

taken, total pandemonium broke out.

The first gunshot rang through the air, and the crowd panicked.

Half of the people hit the floor, and the other half ran for the doors.

The house lights went up, and another shot rang out. The sounds of

people screaming flowed through the air.

James spied the band, still onstage, huddled together on the floor.

He raced up, and Annie was yelling at an officer in the crowd to get

an ambulance.

James looked down in horror to see Rainne had been hit and was

lying in a puddle of blood, her face awash with agonizing pain. “Oh,

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Rachel Cron

my god, no!”
he
screamed, dropping to the floor beside her. He tapped his Bluetooth unit. “We need an ambulance! Now!” he

screamed. “Rainne’s down!” He bent down to her, trying to stay calm

as he assessed her injuries.

“I’m okay,” she croaked, breathlessly. “I think it’s just a scratch.”

James ripped his shirt off as he lifted her skirt past her thighs. She

was right. It was just a scratch, but a nasty one. She was leaking blood like a faucet. He pressed his shirt against the wound, trying to staunch the blood flow as she hissed in pain. “Sorry, baby,” he said, feeling

the tears fill his eyes.

The paramedics rushed to the stage just then, and James shifted to

her head.

They lifted her onto the gurney and wheeled her out into the

parking lot.

* * * *

Rainne could hear the fans wishing her well as the police made a

path for them to the awaiting ambulance, and she stuck her hand in

the air with a thumb up. The crowd went wild. She smiled to herself

as the doors closed and the muffled sirens could be heard.

She looked at James. “What happened?”

“Cameron,” he growled murderously. “Somehow he got past

security.” He reached over and ran his fingers over her head. “Don’t

be scared. Ash got him.”

The second shot.
A small tremor snaked over her body.
It’s over.

Her body instantly felt relaxed, and she realized she had been tense

for weeks and not even realized it.

* * * *

Hours later, Rainne and James were packing up, getting ready to

leave the hospital. It was nearing 4:00 a.m. and it had been an

Punk Rox Warrior

157

eventful night. Her upper thigh had been grazed by Cameron’s bullet

and lodged itself in the back wall of the arena. She had needed twenty

stitches to close the gash, and she was going to have a cane as a best

friend for a few weeks. She had to smile at the walking aid. Annie and

Rebecca had already decorated it with skulls and color.

Ash had caught up to Cameron just as he took the shot, and he had

wasted no time in putting the next bullet in his head. He was dead,

and she had mixed feelings over it, happy that the nightmare was

over, but saddened that he couldn’t have gotten some help for his

illness. His death seemed so needless.

She was snapped out of her mental assessment when they all

approached the exit doors of the hospital. There was a huge crowd

looming outside. Reporters and fans were being held back by the

police.

James put his arm around her shoulder, and they stepped through

the doors and into the parking lot. They tried to make their way past

the crowd when a tall man in a business suit approached them with

two officers at his side. “Ms. Stanton,” he stated. “I’m so happy

you’re okay. I’m sorry to catch you at such a crazy time…”

He was cut off by James. “We appreciate the well-wishing, but

she really needs to be at home resting.”

He stepped in their pathway. “I’m sorry. You don’t seem to

understand.” He straightened up and fixed his tie. “My name is G.M.

Benedict. I’m president of GMB Records.”

Rainne froze. She felt her bandmates gather around her.

“You need to be informed that you’ve won the contest, and I’d

like to see you in my office as soon as possible for the contract

signings.” He smiled at them.

Rainne was frozen in shock. Her friends, on the other hand,

weren’t. They jumped and screamed for joy. She took a deep breath

and leaned into James’s embrace. She had all but forgotten about the

contest part of the night.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Concern lined his face.

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Rachel Cron

She shook her head slightly. “Yeah,” she breathed out, slowly

letting the good news sink into her pores. “Take me home, my punk

rock warrior.” She smiled up at him.

“You got it, my punk rock princess.” He scooped her up into his

arms and walked briskly to the awaiting car.

THE END

HTTP://WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/PAGES/RACHEL-

CRON/168379939848892

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Rachel Cron. I have lived in Fort Myers, Florida for

over 30 years. I’m happily married and the mother of two. I’m also

the grandmother of two. Growing up around English teachers and

musicians, books and music have been a constant in my life. They

have helped shape me into the person I am today. My inspiration for

my books stem from my life, the people I’ve met, the things I’ve done

or the things I have weathered through. Pair that with an overactive

imagination and…here we are. I’m a firm believer in family and

laughter. Why are we here if we’re not enjoying ourselves?

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