Godsend (The Circle War Book 1)

by Matt King

  “May I?” he asked as Hicks approached.

  Hicks handed him the folder. “I came as soon as the alert fired.”

  “Good man.”

  Coburn opened the cover and examined the contents, spreading the pages out on top of the table. He removed his cowboy hat, exposing blond hair that was washed nearly to white.

  “I didn’t see the motorcycles outside,” Hicks said, trying to fill the pause.

  “They’re out hunting,” Coburn replied absently. He picked up one of the pages and showed it to Hicks. “Where was this taken?”

  “We picked that up off of a news scan, just like you requested. It’s from a paper in the mountains.”

  “A paper?”

  Hicks cleared his throat. “Sorry. That picture came from the Huntington Regional. It serves a few cities out in the hills. The article’s nonsense. Something about a bunch of people in a church who thought they were attacked by aliens, but this guy’s picture came from one of the witnesses. They said he was involved somehow.”

  “And when did this photo come out?”

  “Just this morning,” Hicks replied. “Like I said, I came as soon as the scan picked it up.”

  A smile lifted the corner of Coburn’s mouth. “This is excellent work. Thank you for your assistance.”

  The sound of motorcycle engines approaching the building stilled the air in Hicks’s chest. They had the familiar high whine of a Japanese speed bike. He could see the shadows of Coburn’s men as they pulled up and removed their helmets. A fifth shadow stumbled along in the middle.

  “You remember my Horsemen, don’t you, Specialist?”

  A door slid open on the side of the hut and Coburn’s Horsemen stepped through. Like Coburn, they wore long coats, only theirs were made of black leather. Stringy dark hair hid their faces, but Hicks had seen them before. They were quadruplets, with their hard lines set against pale skin like alabaster puppets. How anyone could go through a North Carolina summer without getting any color was beyond him. Two of the brothers held the arms of a man whose face was covered with a black hood. He shook beneath the fabric.

  The Horsemen never once looked at Hicks. They went about their work in silence, first opening a passageway out of a section of flooring and then taking the man down. Whoever their prey was, he wasn’t likely to be heard from again.

  “I think that’ll be all,” Coburn said.

  “What did the man in the picture do?” Hicks asked.

  “He was one of my men.”

  “I didn’t realize anyone else worked out here besides the Horsemen.”

  “This man had a certain set of skills that lent itself to our business,” Coburn replied in a flat tone. “Unfortunately, he decided to end his employment without my consent. As you can understand, we can’t allow for that to happen.”

  From the sound of Coburn’s voice, the situation sounded more personal than a simple desertion. A muffled sound drew Hicks’s attention to the panel in the floor. It sounded like the hum of a generator. “What will you do if you find him?”

  Coburn placed the cowboy hat back on his head. “It’s not a matter of if. We will find August Dillon, and when we do, we will make sure he understands the error of his ways.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “This isn’t natural,” August said as he stared bleary-eyed at his watch. Was it really 4am? He yawned so hard, he thought something might’ve snapped. “People aren’t supposed to be conscious at this hour.”

  Bear poured the rest of his coffee into the fire pit, bringing a last gasp of smoke from the remnants. A drop of wet ashes stained the toe of his boot. “We should go.”

  “What’s your hurry? He’s not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t want to leave Daddy alone for too long.”

  “Don't worry about it,” August said. “He’ll be fine. Didn’t Meryn tell you the rules?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, right.” He’d forgotten to thank Meryn for pawning that off on him. “She can’t interfere with anything that happens to the two of us, but Ray’s not a part of this war, so he’s basically under the protection of one of the most powerful people in the universe. Pass the crackers.”

  Bear handed him a box of Saltines. “All the same, I’d like to get this over with.”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll get to change into that…thing, and I’ll get to fillet the little bastard that’s been frying people up and down the east coast. It’ll be something we can tell our grandkids about one day when they ask us why we look younger than them.”

  “That’s quite a wit you have,” Bear said. “Let’s hope you’re as quick with those swords as you are with your jokes.”

  “Hey, man. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You haven’t said two words since we left the farm.”

  Bear stood, wiping the crumbs from his flannel shirt into the pit before he stepped out of the fire's light. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he had no place to be. Just like every other Southerner. The man would never make it on a New York City street.

  “You mind if I ask you a question, Bear?”

  “I guess not,” he replied, “as long as you don’t mind if I pack up the cot while I answer.”

  August took the hint and walked back to do the same. “What does it feel like?”

  “What does what feel like?”

  “You know, the...” He did his best impression of a monster with claws.

  “Oh, that.” Bear stopped to consider the question. “It’s odd.”

  “Odd.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s it?”

  He snapped the two ends of the cot together. “What else do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. Does it help you pick up chicks? Can you still think? Does it hurt?”

  “It does hurt a little,” Bear replied. “I can feel the electricity at first, but then it sorta goes away.” He finished packing his things in the bedliner and then faced August. “What do I look like after I change?”

  “Well, you're taller.”

  “How tall?”

  “I don't know. Eight feet? Depends on whether or not you count the hair from your mane.”

  “I have a mane?”

  “A short one, yeah. Other than that you look like a cross between a werewolf and a dragon—dark blue scales, pointy ears, four fingers, three toes, a shitload of teeth...” And scary as hell, he felt like adding. He threw his cot into the back of the truck along with the blanket. “Can you control when it happens?”

  “I’ve been controlling it for twenty-some years, whether I knew it or not.” Bear scratched his head. “I suppose I should tell you about the first time.”

  “Ray already told me,” August said.

  Bear leaned against the passenger-side door. “He did, huh? Well, then you know about the only other time it's happened. One second I was running to help Daddy and the next thing I know, there was a bright light and it felt like something took over. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting to Daddy in time. Looking back, I can remember when the change happened. It was like looking through someone else's eyes with my own. I saw myself bite into the bear. I clawed at its sides, but I never actually felt anything. It was…”

  “Odd?”

  “Yes.”

  August tugged at the lapel of his jacket to get his arm through. “So what made you wait so long to do it again?”

  “I guess I convinced myself that it wasn’t real, that the stress made me have delusions. It’s funny what you can make yourself believe. I’d get feelings every once in a while that felt...familiar. I always pushed them away. Even so, it was always close, like a shadow. When I saw those things in the church, I stopped holding him back. I mean, her.”

  “I’ll say. Meryn tell you anything else about it?”

  “A little,” Bear replied. “She said when I change—or phase, she called it—my body ends up on some other planet. That's why my clothes looked the way the
y did when I came back.”

  “Crazy.”

  “You're telling me.”

  A heavy breeze swirled through the camp. August zipped the front of his jacket to stave off the chill. “That shadow of yours needs a name, you know.”

  Bear scratched his beard. “It does, does it?”

  “Yeah, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.” He put his hands on his hips and stared at his feet while he thought.

  “I was thinking something like The Mother or Dragonia, or maybe—”

  “Shadow,” Bear said.

  “What?”

  “That’s her name. Shadow.”

  “Oh. Okay. Good one.” Suddenly he understood why people in the South named their sons Junior.

  Bear grabbed the candle lamp from the log next to the fire pit and blew out the flame. The darkness was immediate. August couldn’t see his hand in front of his face until Bear unlocked the truck on his way to the driver’s side. The interior light came on as soon as he opened the door. August grabbed his swords before climbing in.

  The fire road leading back out to the highway was barely wide enough for the truck to navigate. Potholes along the way turned the trip into an amusement park ride. August held onto the door handle to keep himself from slamming into the roof. Bear didn’t have the same problem. The driver’s-side seat was nothing more than a backrest attached to a thick pad on the floor of the cab. It was the only way he could fit.

  “What about you?” Bear said. “Do you have a Shadow?”

  August scoffed. “Shadow? Nah, don't want one.”

  There were a thousand ways he could’ve answered the question without sounding awkwardly jealous and that wasn't one of them. He pretended to be interested in something off in the distance until Bear turned onto the highway headed west.

  “Should only be another thirty minutes or so,” he said.

  “Good. Wake me up when we get close.”

  “Shouldn’t we be making a plan?”

  “I don’t like to get caught up in too much planning, you know? Sorta ruins the surprise of the moment.”

  Bear looked bewildered. “We’re a half hour away from trying to break into a prison.”

  “What’s the big deal? We get there, we do some stuff, I kill Gemini, we head home.”

  “You make it sound like you’ve done this before.”

  August shrugged. “I’m just being practical. You get attached to a plan, you learn not to think on your feet. We have no idea what the place looks like, let alone how to break in. Plus, we don’t know what the situation’s going to be once we arrive. Maybe he’s killed off the whole town by now. Maybe they bombed him to next Tuesday. Maybe he’s rolled out the red carpet for us and we’ll enjoy a nice breakfast before I slice his face off. You never know. Until we get there, it’s all guessing.”

  “I suppose you have a point.”

  What he actually said sounded more like Ah-spose, but August was starting to learn to decipher his accent.

  The road took them across the spine of the Blue Ridge Mountains and down into the Tennessee valley. The sun was just beginning to color the horizon when they approached the exit for Retson. August grabbed the map from the top of the visor. He ran his finger along the highway that ran through town. Outside of a few side roads, it was the only way in or out for twenty miles. The prison was just north of the Retson city limits.

  Bear merged onto the highway. “What happens if this doesn’t work?”

  “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m not real sure,” August answered. “Things haven’t exactly worked out the way I wanted so far.”

  “And with such good plans, too.”

  He couldn't help but laugh. “You know, you’re a closet smartass. I like to think I’m bringing this out of you.”

  “I’m serious. What comes next if we can’t get him?”

  He put the map away. “At this point, it doesn’t look like we can stop what’s coming whether we get him or not. The whole reason I was going after Gemini was to kill him before things got out of hand. So much for that.”

  “I don’t think that’s the only reason you wanted to get him. I’ve seen the look you get when his name comes up.”

  August shifted in his seat. “The guy’s a coward. He attacks people who can’t defend themselves. People like that get to me.”

  “So I've seen.” Bear squinted as a car sped by, flashing its brights.

  “What was that for?” August asked.

  “Probably means there’s a speed trap up ahead.”

  “A cop?” He pushed himself off the seat to see if he could spot anything over the hill. “You’re not speeding, are you?”

  “Five under, just like I’ve been doing since we left.”

  The news wasn’t comforting. He'd be on Coburn's radar in a second if they were pulled. He reclined his seat so he couldn't be seen by passing cars.

  “I never did thank you,” Bear said once they were farther down the road.

  It came so far out of left field, August wasn't sure how to answer. “Thank me for what?”

  “The church. Even though I wasn't there, I could see what was happening. I wanted to say thank you for protecting Daddy like you did. And for trying to keep the rest of those folks safe.”

  “Don't mention it.”

  After a pause, Bear continued. “I had you pegged different.”

  “Oh?”

  “I figured you were some kind of con artist when you first showed up. And once I figured out what you really were, I assumed you were only in it for yourself.”

  For what was supposed to be a compliment, it sure felt more like a kick in the nuts. “And now what do you think?” he asked.

  Bear gave him a quick glance before looking back to study the road ahead. “Selfish con artist, I reckon.”

  He held a stoic expression just long enough for August to think he was serious. Then a smile cracked Bear's lips. August shook his head. “I can't believe I almost fell for that.”

  “Almost?”

  Over the crest of a hill, a blue light broke up the fog left untouched by the sunrise. It flickered in a wild pattern on the left side of the highway. The strobe was vertical instead of flat. This isn’t right.

  “Slow down,” August said.

  “I’m going under the speed limit.”

  “I mean it, Bear. Stop the truck.”

  Bear pulled the truck off to the shoulder and cut the engine. August got out holding his swords at his side. The countryside was still. A muffled siren rose and fell in a drunken loop.

  “Something’s wrong,” Bear said as he stepped out of the cab.

  Pulling the straps of his sheath over his shoulders as he walked, August started up the road. Bear was quick to make up the ground between them. They stopped as soon as the police cars came into view.

  The vehicles were nose-to-nose blocking the road, with the one on the left tilted on its side. A single headlight beamed through the smoke leaking through the front grills. It shone on a group of bodies lying in the road, fixed in positions August had seen before. Arms and legs were bent at odd angles. A pool of blood surrounded one of the policemen’s heads, his skull collapsed and leaking fluid on one side like a broken egg shell. Their uniforms were burned and tattered. One of the men had a bullhorn fused to his hand.

  “August, look out there.”

  Beyond the squad cars was a long stretch of charred grass leading up to the prison. A halo of smoking corpses and wrecked military vehicles surrounded the fortress. Buses were broken in half. Flames from overturned troop carriers licked into the sky. Closer to the road, a news helicopter lay on its side. Only one of the rotors was still attached.

  “One man did all this,” Bear said.

  August drew his swords. “Man or monster. Maybe both. I hope it’s both. If there’s anyone in the universe that deserves to die twice, it’s this asshole.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

&nb
sp; After helping Ray to bed, Meryn left the house through the back porch. She breathed a guilty sigh of relief to be out of the home. John's father was kind and good, a welcome change from the bitterness and distrust of the Circle, but she could see the sickness in him and knew how close he was to the end. Curing him was within her power. His thoughts were the only thing holding her back, thoughts that wished for an end to come, rather than a new beginning. With the cloud of death darkening over her head, it was frustrating to be around someone who so freely embraced his demise. He spent most of his remaining energy worrying about his son and August—men whose fates she might have already doomed.

  A fresh wave of guilt passed through her. She scanned the farm for a quiet place where she could search for her champions, finally settling on the top of a ridge just beyond the fields to the north.

  The grass dampened the trim of her dress with rain left over from a passing storm. Meryn walked barefoot through the fields, savoring the feel of the earth beneath her feet. It had been so long since she allowed herself to take a physical form, she'd forgotten how it felt to actually experience the sensation of nature rather than observe it coldly from space. A flock of birds scattered ahead of her. She sensed their struggle against the wind and tried to aid their flight by redirecting the gusts of air beneath their wings. They rose as one, chattering and gliding with sudden ease. She treasured the brief feeling of control.

  When she reached the crest of the hill, she found a flat spot and knelt, her knees resting in the dew. The sky hid the sunrise behind a veil of clouds, but darkness wouldn’t hinder her search. She could see the world beneath the coverings. To her, the Earth was a circuit of energy, its people pulses of light. What she hoped to find was a specific type of energy. Ray said that what she was trying to do was like finding a needle in a haystack. Once she’d touched his mind to decipher the meaning, she’d decided he was right, but she hid from him the scale of clutter stacked against her.