My own obsession with the band started with Ryan, actually. We were into a lot of music together, and though his tastes leaned more towards the blues and country, he picked up Hybrid’s first self-titled album on a whim while visiting San Francisco. There had been no radio play for the album at all, so no one had really heard of them. But for whatever reason, Ryan bought the record, took it back home to Ellensburg and played it for me in my room. I wasn’t hooked right away. Sometimes it sounded too loud. Other times, too weird. But it got its claws in me, and pretty soon I was learning everything I could about the band.
Which, at the time, wasn’t much. With no radio play, they also had no press. I’d written a fan letter to the address on the back of the record but never heard back. They were reclusive and mysterious. It made me love them more.
Then the second album, Asteroid, was released on Elektra Records and things exploded. Their first single, “Red Blues Sun” got airplay everywhere. It was the song for the summer of ’73. They started touring and making appearances on The Midnight Special with their quieter numbers like “Pieces of Ash” and “The Deal Fell Through.” Robbie and Sage became the focus of the band. Robbie for his extraordinary voice, his manic, monkey-like behavior on stage, and his foxy Californian good looks. Sage for being a 6’3” powerhouse of pure talent, the driving force behind the band, and the one code the press couldn’t crack. Where Robbie loved nothing more than to talk about himself and the music (and the women), Sage never said much of anything at all.
I was going to have to change that.
The roar of the airplane engines coming alive shook me out of my thoughts. We had coasted up the runway and now we were headed for the sky.
I looked over at the lady next to me. She had a book out and was thoroughly engrossed, not paying attention at all to the fact that we were about to be launched into the air in a metal tube with wings. I had brought a book too, Carrie by some new author, but there was no way I’d be able to concentrate on it while 35,000 feet in the sky. I didn’t even know why I’d picked that book as it looked kind of scary and scary stuff wasn’t really my thing.
I wasn’t sure if it was because I was thinking of the book, or because we were now in the air and I was terrified of us falling to our deaths, but an incredible chill passed over my body, causing every hair on my arms to stand up. My eyes had been squeezed shut for the last few minutes so I opened them to the circulated air and fluorescent lights.
The chill intensified.
In the narrow space between the seats in front of me was the shadowed face of someone staring in my direction. I could barely make out that it was a little boy, maybe around six years old. He kept his dark eyes on me. He opened his mouth to grin.
My breath caught in my throat.
It lasted only a second, only a flash of white teeth, but I could have sworn his teeth were fanged. Sharp as razors and entirely inhuman.
Then the smile vanished and the boy turned around.
I spent the rest of the plane ride with my eyes locked on the back of his seat. I didn’t fear the airplane anymore—I feared something else.
It wasn’t until we were getting up to get our bags that I got another glimpse of him. He was smiling, perfectly normal teeth, chatting to his parents, a cute young boy overall. He didn’t look my way once, and by the time I was walking into the airport, dragging my carry-on behind me, I’d come to the conclusion that it was all in my head.
Why on earth had I just spent a couple of hours on an airplane focused on some random little boy when I had more pressing things to think about? Was it just a distraction for my mind? Because it had worked.
Now, as passengers dispersed in the arrivals terminal, I had to look for a man carrying a sign that said Dawn Emerson on it.
The man would be Hybrid’s manager, Jacob Edwards.
The man who would take me to the band at the famous Red Rocks Amphitheatre.
The band who would become my shadow for the next few weeks.
I was hit by such a burst of excitement that I thought my heart was going to bounce its way out of my chest. My knees began to quiver, the handle of my bag starting to slip out of my clammy hands. Could I do this? I didn’t even know where I was.
Denver, right, Denver, Colorado. I was Dawn Emerson in Denver, Colorado, having survived her first plane trip ever with a non-demonic little boy. I was thousands of miles away from home, standing in an airport full of strangers going back and forth. I was on the verge of something epic. It could go well, it could all go bad, but it was going to be epic in whichever way it went.
I was going to throw up.
I spied the signs for the bathroom and began to hurry my way there when I heard someone call out my name.
I stopped and forced the vomit to stay down. I tried to compose myself. Smoothed the fringe down on my shirt.
I turned around and looked. Over by the baggage claim was a tall, red-headed fellow holding a plastic sign that had my name on it. His eyes lit up at my gaze and he gestured for me to walk over to him with a quick shake of his head.
“You’re Dawn, right?” he yelled, full-on Cockney accent. People in the terminal turned to look at us, perplexed at the ginger invasion.
I nodded, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Well hurry up and piss and get your ass over here, time is money.”
Yes, he certainly did just shout that at me from across the airport.
I was a little too annoyed to piss or vomit now. So this was the Jacob Edwards, was it? What a rude dude.
I straightened my shoulders, gripped my bag tighter, and hurried off toward him.
“Dawn, nice to finally meet you,” he said as I neared him. “I’m Jacob Edwards, but you can call me The Cob. Actually don’t. I can tell I might like you and I only let buggers call me that.”
Now that I was up close, I could see he was quite the brutal looking character. Oh, he was handsome in a peculiar way with a large sloping forehead and broad chin. His eyes were small and sparkling, a weird amber color, and his nose had been broken a few times. Freckles dusted the tops of his cheeks along with pockmarks.
This was the man who kept Hybrid under control. Given some of the rumors I had heard, I wondered how often he was able to do his job. Guess I’d be finding out.
A little thrill ran through my body at that thought, and I held out my hand. I needed to act professional, assertive.
“Nice to meet you, Jacob. Thank you for, you know, thinking of me,” I said. He took my hand in his and gave it a bone-crushing squeeze. I had no doubt he could have broken it in two. So much for being assertive.