Duke scarfed it down in one bite, then looked hopefully at his new best friend. Cam chuckled and rubbed the dog’s head. In my mind, I glared at the mutt for being a traitor. “Um, I heard Marty and Will talk about leaving you here for being grumpy. They are joking, right?”
This was my chance, I realized, to get a better look at our new buddy. I finished the kata with one last motion, a slow spin that ended in a low crouch, then stood up with a hop. Was Cameron wearing a necklace? Couldn’t tell. Stupid collared shirt. “Nope. We left Cole at a rest stop for two hours one time before we came back to get him.” I tugged Duke’s lead and got him moving. “But Marty won’t leave the mutt, so I’m not too worried.”
Cam blinked and followed me back to the Suburban. “I don’t think I got a chance to thank you for inviting me along. I still don’t have a lot of friends in the area.”
I gave a noncommittal shrug. He knew he was here only because my wife insisted. No point in rubbing his nose in it. “Hope you have a good time. It’s a long hike up there, but the cabin is nice and we always have a ton of fun running around like loonies in the woods.” “And by the way, do you have any supernatural powers at your disposal? Just one of those questions I ask everyone.” Somehow, I just couldn’t make that conversation sound sane, even in my own head.
“Still, I know this is kinda your time with your buddies. I do appreciate it.” Thankfully, he went back to eating his sandwich, and that was the end of the touchy-feely stuff. It was also the end of my chance to question him alone, and I mentally kicked myself as I got Duke loaded back into the truck.
It’s impossible to leave someone at the rest stop when they beat you back to the vehicle. Marty and Will were visibly disappointed to find Duke and me firmly ensconced in our seats when they got back, and Cole smirked at me as he slid in beside me. “Cam narced, didn’t he?”
“Yup.”
In the front seat, Will and Marty exchanged devilish looks. I had a feeling Cam-short-for-Cameron was getting left at the next rest stop. I think he felt it too,’cause he didn’t make any effort to leave the car for the rest of the trip. Dude wasn’t stupid, I’ll give him that.
Needless to say, I wasn’t going to get out of the car either, and that effectively trapped Cole between us. He wasn’t going to be the happiest of campers by the time we got to Colorado.
I have to say that Kansas is very flat. And very uniform. Mile five looked just like mile five hundred and five, and the only thing that changed was the fact that we lost the music radio stations about halfway across the state. That left us with only the news chatter one, and after more tales of woe—everything from floods to wildfires to revolutions—Marty reached over and snapped it off. All that remained was the sound of Duke snoring, and the engine growling.
Finally, the silence became unbearable, and Will broke. “So, how do you almost become a priest?”
Cam stuck his finger in his book so he could answer. “Well, I was about two weeks away from taking my vows, and I realized it just wasn’t for me. I still believe in God, but . . . I wasn’t meant for the priesthood. I told them so, and I walked away.”
“So what do you do now?”
Cam actually hesitated a moment before answering. “I handle acquisitions for the library system.”
Will turned all the way around in his seat, almost getting choked by the seat belt to do so. “Wait, wait . . . You’re a librarian?”
“Well . . . sort of.”
We tried. I’ll swear on anything you like, we really did try. But Marty broke out in snickers first, which set Will off, and then . . . Yeesh. Just so you won’t think we’re all heartless bastards, Cam laughed right along with us.
“Yeah, it sounds a bit . . . lame. But I do like my job.” He shrugged and grinned a little.
“There’s things to be said about doing a job you love, no matter what anyone thinks.” Everyone agreed with me there, and the awkwardness seemed to ease in the truck. Will grilled Cam about things you should never ask a virtual stranger, and I went back to staring out the window at the mountains on the far distant horizon.
They looked murky, a deep purple pall settling over them despite the scorching sunshine. They were brooding, like I had been all summer.
I wondered what mountains had to brood about, and rubbed the lingering ache in my right leg. The hike up the mountain was going to be the first real test of my newly healed self. I wondered which of us was going to win.
“Dude, will you snap out of it?” I flinched, but it didn’t keep me from getting hit in the face with a piece of ice from Will’s cup. “Geez, you’d think somebody died.”
Goose bumps sprang up along my arms and my stomach gave a painful wrench. Something cold and slimy slithered down my spine, and it had nothing to do with Duke and his saliva problem. “Don’t say stuff like that, man. Not cool.”
Will seemed to realize he’d overstepped, and the smile in his eyes faded behind his round glasses. “Sorry, dude. My bad.” Great, now I felt like I’d kicked a puppy.
The others, at least the ones who knew me, took the conversation in a new direction and left me alone. The goose bumps refused to fade, and despite the sweltering heat, I found myself rubbing the chill out of my arms several times. Something had shifted, and not in my favor.
I stared at my own blue eyes in the window’s reflection, and I saw lines around them that were only recent additions to the topography of my face. A few white hairs in my reddish beard stubble caught the sunlight and gleamed like beacons. There was a tiny scar on my cheek, one that would fade with time but for now was pink and shiny. My blond hair, pulled back in a ponytail like always, seemed to be receding just slightly. That could have been my own vicious imagination, though.
It was my eyes that kept my attention. They were haunted eyes, hunted eyes. They said that something, somewhere, was out to get me. I knew that just as surely as I knew the sun would set tonight. The only two questions that needed answering were when, and how many of the people I loved were going to get in the way?
Dammit, Jess, you’re doing it again. In my own constant state of worry and paranoia, I’d blown the guys off almost all summer. I knew this. I had been a crappy friend for months. (We’re not even going to talk about how frustrated Mira was with me.) I had been hoping that this camping trip would make up for some of it, but my innate sense of impending doom said otherwise. I should have stayed home. I just knew it.
I didn’t realize my hand was clenched into a fist until Cole touched me and I jumped. He gave me a look, but didn’t say anything. He understood, at least better than anyone else in the car. He was a cop; they dealt with life and death on a regular basis. And he knew demons. If anyone in the world was going to know how I felt, it was my baby brother. After a moment, I nodded slightly. I would try to relax. I’d promised.
I caught Cam-short-for-Cameron watching the silent exchange from the other side of the car. The rest of the way to Colorado, I felt him glance at me from time to time, trying to figure me out.
Good luck, buddy. Better people have tried and failed.
6
The last outpost of civilization before we headed up into the mountains was quite a ways west of Fort Collins, Colorado, and consisted of a small grocery store proudly named Ericson’s. Marty knew the owner, and that’s where we’d be parking the Suburban before heading out on foot.
As everyone ducked inside the store for last-minute supplies, I snuck around the corner to call home one last time before I lost my cell signal farther up the mountain.
Mira answered on the second ring. “Hello!” There was water running in the background. Doing dishes, maybe? Laundry? I couldn’t help but try to picture what she was wearing today, how she had her hair done. Okay, I’d been gone twelve hours, and I missed her already.
“Hey, baby.” I leaned against the side of the store, gazing at the state of Colorado spread out all hazy clear to the distant horizon. “We’re getting ready to head up the mountain, and I wanted to give you
a call before I left my phone here.”
“Well, we’re fine. Estéban’s mowing the yard and Steph took the kids to the movies, so I’m getting some paperwork done for the shop.”
“Oh.” That made me sad, actually. For some reason, I’d really wanted to hear my daughter’s voice. “Well, tell Anna I love her, okay? When she gets back.”
“I’ll do that.” She paused a moment, and I could picture her chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully, her green eyes dark. “Jess, are you okay? You sound a bit off.”
“Yeah . . . same shit, different day.” She knew what I was talking about. Lately, we’d been having rather . . . energetic discussions about my life outlook. “I fell asleep in the truck on the way out, and the dreams came.”
I heard her wince on the other end of the line. “Screaming?”
“No, thankfully. But didn’t make for a happy road trip.” I rested my head against the side of the building for a moment. “I’m trying, baby. I really am.”
“I know. And it’s okay. You’ll have fun and maybe you’ll be feeling more like yourself at the end of the week.”
“I hope so.” At this point, I was starting to wonder about seeing a shrink, and for me, that’s saying something. “Listen, if you need anything, call Ivan. Or Avery. The numbers are in my notebook.”
Avery Vincent, the champion out of San Francisco, could be on a plane and in Kansas City before anyone could find me in the wilds of Colorado. At least, that’s what I told myself.
“I know, Jess. We went over this like fifty times. We’ll be fine. You guys just watch what you’re doing, and don’t fall off a cliff or anything, okay?”
There was a squawk of indignation around front, and I peered around the building in time to see Duke tangle his leash around Will’s legs and send him sprawling off the wooden porch. Once downed, the big dog proceeded to try to drown his victim in wet slobbery kisses, despite Will’s vain attempts to shove the mammoth mutt off. “Maybe you should do some of that voodoo you do so well? I think we’re gonna need it.”
She chuckled. “Will’s hurt already, isn’t he?”
“Not yet, but he’s working on it.”
“I’ll put some protection spells on you all. Except Cam. I haven’t had time to ask his permission.”
“Then we’ll be extra careful with him.” I had to wonder, if Cam already had his own protection spells in place, would he notice the addition of Mira’s? There are times when I kick myself for not studying up on this magic thing more.
It did make me feel better to know we’d have my wife’s protection spells laid over us. Like a security blanket. One of those big fluffy ones with the satin binding around the edge. What? I have a five-year-old daughter. Daddies know about these things.
I said my good-byes and I-love-yous and tried to sound upbeat and cheerful. Mira wasn’t fooled, but I was hoping she’d appreciate my efforts.
In the store, Cameron and an upright-again Will were poking through bags of dried fruit and trail mix, and I headed straight for the rather large selection of Ericson’s homemade jerky, shouldering Cole aside in an attempt at playfulness.
“You got room in your pack for this?” Cole tossed me a package of jalapeño buffalo jerky. “Mine’s stuffed full already.”
“Yeah, I can probably manage.” I grabbed a pack of teriyaki for myself.
We took very few edible supplies up the mountain with us. Paintball gear plus sufficient ammunition wasn’t light, and we’d be walking several miles up rough terrain. Marty’s uncle was always good enough to stock the place for our arrival every year, so we could get away without packing staples. However, we would always make room for Ericson’s jerky. It was practically a food group in and of itself.
Marty was trying to struggle into his backpack and hold on to Duke at the same time when Cole and I came back out. My brother grabbed the dog, and I helped out with the luggage. “The clerk says the Quinns were by yesterday real early. Bet you money Zane’s waiting to ambush us on the trail.”
The Quinns were old family friends of Marty’s, and they looked after the cabin in the off season. Every year, they joined us up there to roughhouse and play paintball. We’d watched the only child in the family grow up.
“That means you get to go first.” Will pointed at Marty.
“Wuss.”
The rest of us hauled our backpacks out of the truck, struggling into the heavy monstrosities while Duke did his best to knock us all on our backs. As Will had proven, if the dog ever got us down, we’d be just like turtles, stuck there for the duration of whatever mockery would be sure to follow.
Cole was pawing through his things, looking for a place to stuff the extra pack of jerky he just had to have, and I spotted his holstered gun in there. And I don’t mean his paintball marker, I mean his real I’m-a-cop-and-I’ll-shoot-your-ass gun. “Um . . . little brother? You really think you’re going to need that?”
He glanced up, first at me, then pointedly at the hilt of the katana sticking up over my shoulder. Yeah, okay. Pot, kettle, all that. “Mine’s for exercise.”
“So’s mine. I want to do some target shooting while we’re up there.”
I left it at that. It wasn’t worth arguing over, and honestly I don’t know what to say to Cole ninety percent of the time anymore. Another goal for the camping trip: figure out how to talk to my once demon-sworn little brother. I was coming too close to dying too often to let things go unsettled between us.
“Guys, check this out!” At first, I wasn’t sure what Marty had in his hand, but I was pretty sure you could buy it only at a shop where you had to be eighteen to even walk in the door. It had rubber hoses and metal brackets and a flat leather pocket all attached by metal grommets.
Marty strapped the doohickey to his forearm, and I finally recognized it as a slingshot. A very powerful, lethal-looking slingshot. To demonstrate, Marty drew back on the leather pocket (it had a finger loop, how convenient) and let it go with a snap that echoed. “They say you can hunt anything up to the size of a coyote with this. I wanna do some target practice with it too.”
These are my friends. Give us a weapon of individual destruction, and we’re like kids at Christmas.
“Aren’t those illegal?” Cole raised a brow at Marty, who just grinned. My brother groaned and turned away. “I can’t know this.”
I elbowed him a little when the rest of the idiots weren’t looking. “Hey, you’re not a cop just now. Relax, remember?” He just rolled his eyes at me.
I don’t know whose brilliant idea it was to haul all the paintball gear up a mountain once a year, but there are times when I think they need a kick in the shin. It’s not the markers that are so heavy, really, as it is the air tanks and the actual paintballs. Granted, we’d probably be out of air and paint both within the first couple of days, so the trip down would be a lot lighter.
We didn’t really go hiking so much as prepare for all-out war. Girding our loins, or something. Air tanks were affixed to guns, hoppers were filled with paint, masks were adjusted to fit properly.
We were a scary-looking lot. The paintball masks covered our entire faces, giving us a kind of anonymous storm trooper menace. (Except mine, which sported a smile made of silver spikes.) Even in borrowed equipment, Cam managed to look like he knew what he was doing, and once everyone was packed and loaded, Marty tossed the Suburban keys to the store clerk. We did a quick round of paper-rock-scissors to see just who got the honor of heading out first. Cole waved as he left the parking lot, disappearing almost instantly in the thick foliage. With his uncanny direction sense, he could be counted on not to get lost, and he’d break a trail for the rest of us on the grassy path.
Lucky me, I got to go last.
The way the plan worked was thusly: We would head out at ten-minute intervals, up a well-mown grass path through the woods. You could hide beside the trail and wait to ambush folks, you could jog to try to catch up with those in front of you. If you got shot, you had to wait where you were for an
other ten minutes before moving on again. Sure, it made the trek to the cabin drag out forever, but we always had a great time.
While we waited, I tossed my cell into Marty’s glove compartment along with everyone else’s. There’d be no signal at the cabin, and if I lost and/or broke one more phone, Mira was going to kill me.
“Just stay in view of the trail. It leads right up to the cabin. You can’t miss it,” Marty assured Cameron, who was the second to depart. “And I’m coming right behind you, so once I’m done lighting you up, you can follow me.” He grinned and thumped Cam on the shoulder, sending him off.
One by one, the guys (and Duke) headed out, and when my time came, I shouldered my pack and sword, and flicked the safety off my paintball marker. Last year, Cole had stayed just inside the trees and shot me in the face the moment I left the parking lot. I’d be ready this time.
No one jumped out at me when I stepped off the asphalt, and I took this as a good sign. Maybe I’d get a chance to admire the scenery for a few minutes before I was blinded by unnaturally colored blobs of paint.
This was damn beautiful country. The trees towered over me, branches blocking out the slowly darkening sky as the day drifted toward early evening. About a million different kinds of birds chirped and called all around me, and in the underbrush, small furry things scampered and rustled, fleeing before the terror that was me, I’m sure.
I loved this place.
I also established within the first few minutes that my injured leg seemed to be functioning as intended. I even broke into a light jog, determined to overtake Will, who should have been about ten minutes in front of me. No way he’d be running; I could catch him.
I paused often to listen for any movement up ahead, but it was hard to hear with my own breath whooshing in my ears. I kinda felt like Darth Vader, all wheezy in my mask.
Once, though, I stopped at just the right moment to hear the soft thud of a paintball marker up ahead of me. Hunkering down, I let my eyes relax until the forest blurred into fuzzy shapes that made no sense whatsoever. Only then could I see the motion that didn’t belong, the sign of something foreign moving through the trees. Quietly, with the stealth of a ninja (no really, a ninja!), I started tracking.
A Shot in the Dark Page 7