by Cree Storm
“What the hell is a cavern doing down here?” Flyer muttered as he followed Ireland’s lead.
Ireland was so quiet, Flyer had to strain to hear the man. “It looks like someone dug this thing out. I can see shovel marks and—holy crap!”
“What? What’s wrong?” Flyer asked anxiously.
Ireland pulled harder on Flyer and soon Flyer found himself rising above the water and then was completely out of the frigid wetness. “Nothing is wrong, but there’re two other caves that split off. Both look dug out. This is just amazing. It’s like a secret passage or something.”
“Well, I know that back in the day, caves were used for religious reasons, but because of the territory we’re in, I wouldn’t doubt if this one was used for burial grounds,” Flyer quietly said.
Ireland swallowed fearfully, saying “Are you saying there are dead people in here?”
“It would add up with our location. Indians were known to bury their dead deeply into the earth,” Flyer stated.
“We need to get the heck out of here,” Ireland said turning and pulled on Flyer’s hand.
Flyer tugged back, and Ireland gave an “oomph” when his wet body hit into Flyer’s. Flyer felt his cock stiffen and damn if he didn’t feel his balls start to tighten. He took a deep breath and leaned forward for a kiss, when the sound of dogs barking suddenly brought him back to reality. Pulling back, Flyer said, “We can’t go back out there, Ireland. The men chasing us are nipping at our heels.”
Ireland let out a loud breath saying, “I’d rather take on humans than ghosts.”
Smiling, Flyer replied, “There’s no such thing as ghosts, Ireland.”
Snorting, Ireland replied, “Have you never seen Ghost Hunters, Paranormal Activity, or Ghost Adventures? I’m sure the people who are always going into those haunted locations would argue differently.”
Softly laughing, Flyer replied, “Ireland, those are television shows not real life.”
“I beg to differ. Timmy would have ghost night every Sunday. He would put us in our PJ party outfits, which was simply humiliating, and then we would watch one of those shows. Once we saw one where these guys went into the old jailhouse, and one of the guys screamed his head off and ran like the dickens. When they looked back at the footage there was this apparition and it was terrifying. Scared the bejeezus out of me. I’m telling you, if this is a sacred burial ground then that means there are ghosts,” Ireland argued, a slight tremor in his voice.
Flyer ignored the sounds of the dogs getting closer, feeling compelled to draw the man back into his arms and gently kiss his lips. He pulled back before they lost complete control, rasping, “Ghosts are a myth, Ireland. They simply do not exist.”
Ireland whispered back, “That’s what humans say about shifters and vampires, yet my porcupine may argue they are wrong.”
Flyer laughed softly, saying, “I promise to protect you from any ghosts. However, I have a big feeling we’ll have to worry about the men out there more than any ghosts. I think this place is now a drug cartel’s paradise. God, I wish I my eyes were working. I bet this is where they come to receive and distribute their guns and drugs,” Flyer whispered.
Ireland sounded even more afraid when he asked, “Are you saying the men trying to find us are drug dealers who use this cavern to store their drugs?”
Nodding, Flyer replied, “Don’t forget their guns and money, too. Honestly, it’s a brilliant way to do it. Places like this would keep the locals away because of their superstitious beliefs. It’s also cold enough to explain why heat sensors haven’t been able to catch them transporting their shit in and out of the States or why we can never find any actual packages or crates in their labs they have set up in those fucking barns. It would also cover up any scent our drug sniffer dogs might have otherwise caught. Bet you there’s a large room in each tunnel with stacks of their shit.”
Ireland started walking. “Left or right tunnel?”
“Left,” Flyer replied.
Ireland walked faster, then gasped, “Holy crap! Flyer you’re right. This place is packed with bags and crates!”
“Using this cavern is ingenious. Can you get one of the crates open?” Flyer asked.
Ireland moved away from him and Flyer could hear a shuffling sound then something plopped in the water behind Flyer. Ireland gasped, asking in a panic, “What was that?”
“What?” Flyer asked in confusion.
“I heard something,” Ireland insisted.
Flyer sighed. “It was a rock dropping into the water. Did you get the crate open?”
Ireland took a few seconds before saying, “Not yet. Give me a minute. The lid’s on kinda tight.”
Flyer could hear Ireland using something and then a cracking noise, just as a splashing sound came from somewhere in front of them.
“What was that?” Ireland gasped.
“It was just a fish. Did you get the crate open?” Flyer replied.
Ireland didn’t answer his question, instead stammered, “H-How d-do you know i-it was a f-fish?”
“Because fish live in water and this cavern connects to the Rio Grande and it has fish in it. Now what is in the crates?” Flyer asked.
“Guns. Are you sure that it was a fish? I mean, it could be a zombie or something,” Ireland said with a slight squeak to his voice.
Dropping his head forward, Flyer took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then raised his head once again. “Ireland, zombies do not exist.”
“Again, to humans I don’t either,” Ireland stated.
Flyer rolled his eyes, saying, “Don’t you think that if zombies existed, someone would have seen one by now?”
Ireland hesitated a moment and Flyer could still hear the uncertainty in the man’s voice when he stammered, “I—I gu—guess.”
Sighing heavily, Flyer said, “No guessing, you know I’m right.”
When Ireland didn’t say anything, Flyer firmly stated, “I swear it was a fish. Can we focus on the crate, please? We don’t have much time before those idiots looking for us figure out we’re in here and come searching. Tell me what kind of guns are in the crate.”
“I don’t know anything about guns, Flyer. How am I supposed to know what kind they are?” Ireland said in exasperation.
“Just describe them to me. Maybe I can get an idea of what you’re looking at,” Flyer suggested.
The sound of metal hitting metal could be heard then an indrawn breath before Ireland said, “Oh wow! Before I get to the guns, there’s some things here that you need to know about.”
Flyer heard Ireland moving things around inside one of the crates. “What? What is it?
Ireland gasped, “Flyer, you aren’t going to believe what’s in this crate. I don’t have to be a weapons expert to know grenades when I see them and why would someone want stink bombs?
“Stink bombs? What are you talking about? Ireland, what did you find?” Flyer asked in exasperation.
Ireland walked towards Flyer. “I know it sounds crazy, but I have been the victim of many of these stinky buggers by my two older brothers. They were always tossing them into the bathroom when I was taking a shower or into my bedroom when I was sleeping. Mom would get really ticked at the three of us and we would have to scrub down the house to take out the smell. My brothers, the asshats, would take off and leave me to do it all by myself. They threatened to kick my butt if I told on them. It meant I lost an entire day of fun while they got to go off and do God only knows what without me.”
Flyer couldn’t help but snicker at the prank, then remembered where they were and why. “I promise to make them pay for your suffering as a child later. Now, however, we have to get a move on. What else is in that crate?”
Ireland placed an item in Flyer’s hand saying, “This thing is really big, and I’ve never seen one in person, but I think this is one of those thingies that you put into the gun to make it fire more bullets. I may not have been around a lot of weapons, but I have seen movies.”
&nb
sp; “A magazine clip?” Flyer asked feeling the item Ireland placed in his hands. It had two large round cylinders on the side of a long stick in the middle. “Damn, this is a high capacity clip. It holds a hundred rounds easily. Are there more in there?”
“There’s a bunch in the open crate along with some smaller arch-looking ones, but the closed one has the rifles and what looks like those nasty ones you see in war and gangster movies. You know what I’m talking about?”
“I think so,” Flyer replied.
“The thing is, these rifles are real funny looking,” Ireland replied.
“Funny how?” Flyer asked.
“They have like a web for the long part and it has what looks like a pistol for the trigger and then it has the thing for the shoulder that also has a trigger on it. It’s really weird. I’ve never seen a gun, in any movie, with two triggers before,” Ireland said.
“I need you to look on the gun. There should be markings on it,” Flyer said.
Ireland was silent then said, “It’s kinda dark in here but I see something on the pistol part with the trigger.”
“Yes. What does it say?” Flyer quickly asked.
“.308 something,” Ireland muttered.
Flyer tried to see what Ireland was seeing, but it was dark and his eyes were still nothing but blurs and blobs. When he heard what Ireland said, his eyes widened. “We need to get out of here and get to where I can call Radar. I need to tell him about this stash before it disappears.”
“What is it? Is it bad?” Ireland asked
“Very,” Flyer replied, handing Ireland the clip. “Put that back and close it up. We don’t want them knowing we were looking around if we can help it.”
Ireland went back to the crate, then gasped, “Flyer, there’s a butt load of ammunition in this other box with the magazines. Oh, fudgesicles and lollipops, armor piercing Incendiary! That sounds bad. I mean even a layman like myself knows that means explosives.”
“Like I said we need to get out of here and inform Rory about this shit before they can unload it to other gangs and militiamen,” Flyer stated.
“How can they get all this out of here without someone seeing it?” Ireland asked.
“The same way we’re getting out. The two tunnels must lead out of here. At least one of them will have a boat,” Flyer said.
“Okay but let me check on the guys outside. I just want to know how close they are to finding us,” Ireland said,
Before Flyer could argue, Ireland was splashing through the water. Thankfully it didn’t take long before Flyer could hear him coming back, hissing, “They’re still looking on the other side of the river. We might be able to get a good lead if we can find that boat.”
Flyer nodded. “Good, but don’t ever take off like that again. Partners stick together. I may not be able to see, but I’ll still have your back.”
Ireland grasped Flyer’s hand saying, “You’re right and I’m sorry. Mates stick together.”
“We need to find the boat,” Flyer replied, ignoring the mate comment once again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a mate, he just had no idea what to do with one. He knew that Wade was seriously happy and so were a bitch ton of the other people he had started to call friend. However, Flyer had never given a long-term relationship much thought. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Ireland and the man gave him a hardon just by the sound of his voice. The thing was, he didn’t know how good a mate he would make. Hell, he was always on the go, whether it was with the search and rescue group or the special ops crew. He didn’t know if he could dedicate enough time to someone. Then again, Ireland was pretty handy to have around. He did fix the comms system and call for help after the crash and he was pretty calm under stressful circumstances.
“Found it. I need to turn it around and we can go,” Ireland said with a slight strain as Flyer heard the scraping of the boat touching land.
“I can help,” Flyer said trying to walk towards the sounds he was hearing from Ireland.
Movement stopped when Ireland quickly said, “No, I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. I can do this.”
“I’m not helpless. I can walk and chew gum at the same ti—Shit!” Flyer hissed as he smacked his big toe into a rock and went forward.
Ireland rushed to him, “Flyer! Flyer! Are you alright?”
Flyer turned just as Ireland dropped down next to him and started rubbing his hands all over his body. Instantly Flyer felt his desire for the man come to the surface. His cock pressed so hard on his zipper he just knew that it would leave marks. It was getting harder and harder for Flyer to not act on the feelings running through him, so he pushed at Ireland’s hands, growling, “Don’t touch me!”
Ireland’s soft, strained voice, whispering, “Sorry,” had Flyer feeling like the world’s biggest bastard.
Flyer could hear the pain and hurt his actions and words caused Ireland, and felt like the biggest, meanest asshole in the universe. When Ireland went to stand, Flyer quickly grabbed for his wrist. “I’m sorry, Ireland. It’s just—well. To be honest, every time you touch me, I feel the urge to pull you down, rip your clothes off and fuck you into the ground, and this is really not the best timing for that.”
“You feel the pull?” Ireland questioned with excitement.
Sighing heavily, Flyer replied, “As sick as it is, I think I even felt the pull when you were in porcupine form. I mean, it wasn’t like it is right now, where the need to damn near possess you comes over me, but whenever I would say something, and I could tell your feelings got hurt, I wanted to soothe you and take that pain away. You have no clue how many times I thought of turning around and going back for you when I took you back to Timmy. Since you were able to shift back and explain things to me, I understand my feelings a little better, but that doesn’t change who I am and what I do either, and this not being able to see bullshit doesn’t make what we’re going through any easier. I would do anything to get my eyes back to where they were.”
“You don’t sound sick in the least. My animal is part of who I am and he recognizes you as our mate, too,” Ireland whispered, then added with a little excitement, “There may be a way to get your sight back now.”
“Did you just say there’s a way to get my sight back?” Flyer asked anxiously.
Flyer could see the shadowy nod from Ireland. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s a good idea—You know, thinking about it now, just forget I said anything.”
“If you know a way to get my sight back, you need to tell me,” Flyer insisted.
“It’s not a good idea, Flyer. Let’s just get the boat and get out of here,” Ireland replied, tugging on Flyer’s hand.
Flyer felt his ire rise and jerked his hand back. “I want answers, Ireland. Why, if you know a way to return my sight, are you keeping it from me? Especially knowing about the cartel on our asses.”
“Because, it would be wrong,” Ireland replied, trying once again to get Flyer to move along with him.
Refusing to budge, Flyer snapped, “Is it illegal?”
“No.”
Flyer finally allowed Ireland to guide him over the rocks and around tables. “Is it dangerous?”
“No.”
Stopping at the boat, Ireland helped Flyer inside. “Is it some kind of magic thing that requires killing chickens or something?”
“No,” Ireland replied with a chuckle.
Flyer jerked his hand away from Ireland, snapping, “Then what the fuck is it? I mean if there’s a way for us to get me back to my old self, then damn it, we should do it. Now just tell me how we can get my sight back!”
“We have to mate!” Ireland quickly replied in frustration. Sighing, Ireland got out of the boat and started pushing it back into the water, then climbed in, saying, “Mating is sacred to shifters and maybe it’s selfish of me, but I hope that my true mate will join with me because he wants to, not because he’s forced to.”
“How would mating get my sight back?” Flyer asked curiously.
“Ireland, I don’t know what to say,” Flyer replied.
Grabbing the oar, Ireland began to move them through the water. “There’s nothing to say. I have been struggling with my animal since the plane went down. As your mate, it is my responsibility to keep you safe, happy, and whole. Knowing you’re injured and men are trying to hunt you down to kill you, while I might be able to help you heal, yet haven’t, is painful to my heart and soul. However, I’m also part human and that part of me needs to know it’s wanted.”
“Ireland, it isn’t that I don’t want you. I just never thought about sharing my life with anyone. I’m never around. What good would I be to you or anyone as a permanent fixture in my life? When I’m not going on missions with Wade and the others, I’m working search and rescue for Wyndingo and Day,” Flyer softly argued.
“Mates are a team, Flyer. We are mates and therefore we are supposed to be a team. I could work side by side with you. I could—”
Flyer gasped, “Oh hell no. My life is too dangerous. You have absolutely no training to deal with the kind of danger I go through on a regular basis. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
The boat bumped into something and Flyer held onto the sides. Ireland must have stood up, because the boat began to rock. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see the ladder.”
“Maybe we should see where we are?” Flyer quickly replied.
“I’ll go up and have a look,” Ireland whispered.
Flyer hated that Ireland was forced to do the things he should be doing. If someone was out there, they could shoot the man in the head. Just that mental picture had Flyer ready to call Ireland back to the boat. However, seconds later Ireland was back whispering, “I think we’re at the base of the mountain.”