by Barb Han
What better place to trick the spirits than here, he thought wryly. And, with any luck, catch a break from the ominous cloud that had been hanging over his head, a cloud he’d been born with that had gotten darker by the day since returning to the States.
He should’ve been used to it by now. It had been following him around from as early as he could remember, had intensified when he’d signed up for the Army on his eighteenth birthday, and now here he was a grown man with a wife and a daughter. The cloud had only thickened. It was the kind of feeling that warned something very bad was coming.
Collect your mental package, Damon, that annoying voice in the back of his mind quipped.
Two hours of tossing and turning, and the sun was finally up. The heat from it turned on like someone had flipped a switch. Breakfast amounted to a bottle of water and a power bar.
“You coming?” Sebastian always ate in the Mess Hall tent.
“I’ll catch up later.” Daniel wasn’t in the mood for company.
Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and working. He’d picked up another load of debris, trying to distract himself from his heavy thoughts. His facemask wasn’t secure and he attempted to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest when he breathed in more contaminated air.
It was difficult not to feel a little off-kilter in the place, he told himself. If not for the sheer multitude of the disaster and the island’s history of practicing voodoo and other forms of black magic then for the stories he’d heard in a tent the first night. Like the one from a widow who’d said her husband survived the quake only to be shot by thieves a few days later. The man had been pastor of a respected church, married for thirty-two years. He had been killed for the change in his pocket. Lot of good money did now. There were no shops open to buy food. There were only handouts from relief organizations.
A distant drumbeat was constant in Daniel’s ears as he worked, a reminder that many Haitians relied upon voodoo spirits to fix their problems to this day. They called on their spirits as he pulled rubble from their streets.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The never-ending rhythm off in the distance sent a chill up his spine. It shouldn’t get to him, shouldn’t make the hairs on the back of his neck prick. Damn.
What was he going to do next? Hang garlic in his tent to chase off vampires? He sighed sharply, figuring it best to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty with real work than to rely on some invisible demon or God for help.
The only miracle happening right there in front of everyone came in the form of blistered hands and cut fingers. Work needed to happen, real work from real men, not some magical answer from a fantasyland in the sky. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in going to church, especially since he’d had his little girl. Church was fine for her and Naomi. His brain was too scrambled, too dark to believe in anything he couldn’t see.
Daniel picked through the mountain of rubble he stood on while hoping he didn’t uncover a leg or head, or worse, a child’s body.
A dark-skinned local joined him on top of the heap. He recognized the man. They’d been friendly the evening before.
Daniel nodded a hello as he pulled a spare mask from his backpack and offered it to the man.
Before covering his mouth, the man said, “The donkey sweats so the horse can be decorated with lace.”
Daniel shrugged. Haitians, he’d noticed, always spoke in riddles.
“We sweat so they can live comfortably,” he said and then motioned toward the hilltops as he placed his facemask on.
Daniel half-smiled as he nodded. True. Daniel couldn’t help but notice it was always the dark-skinned Haitians he saw digging in the debris. Never had he seen the Mulatto, the light-skinned French-speaking elite, get their hands dirty.
The hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck pricked again. The dark cloud surrounding him thickened. Hell, he was probably going crazy but it was worth glancing around anyway because he felt like eyes were on him.
There was a man.
He stood out, even in the distance, because most eyes in Haiti were trained on the ground. This man stood with his arms crossed and a penetrating glare aimed directly at Daniel. Did he know the guy?
Daniel blinked. It was hot and he was tired. He was probably just seeing things that weren’t there because this man looked hauntingly familiar. But, no, it couldn’t be him. Because Daniel had killed that man in South America in a raid.
Daniel rubbed blurry eyes. He checked the spot again.
The man was gone.
Chapter 3
The next morning everyone in the tent was up and moving around early. The sun blared and mosquitoes were real—a real problem. Real and thirsty for blood.
A man walked toward Daniel. He recognized him as the man he’d given a mask to yesterday.
“Come with us. We’re going somewhere special today. Samuel’s my name,” he said with an outstretched hand.
Daniel noticed everyone was dressed up, no longer in the dirty sweat-soaked T-shirts and torn pants they’d been wearing for the past couple of days.
Silently, he followed as Samuel navigated a path around the rubble, going only God knew where. He stopped at a cross in front of the ruins of the Port-au-Prince Cathedral.
The great stained glass window over the entrance was still mostly intact, but now, with the building just a shell, the sunlight streamed from the inside out. It struck Daniel as odd.
“It’s really a catastrophe to see the cathedral in this state,” Samuel said. “But look at the cross. It didn’t fall. It stands. The building is gone but the cross in front is still standing. It means something. It means that we need to keep our faith.”
“I look around and all I see is devastation and death,” Daniel said evenly. “How can you find faith in this?”
“True. There is much loss. But as long as the head is not cut off, the hope of wearing a hat remains,” he said with a wink and a smile.
Daniel knew it was a saying of hope. He pulled out his cell and texted Naomi, hoping she was already awake.
A few seconds crept by with no response. She was most likely still sleeping or she’d set her phone down somewhere in another room. Daniel never called at this time, so she wouldn’t be expecting him. Daniel pocketed his cell.
“God could silence an earthquake,” the pastor began. “But God let it happen because he wanted to test our faith.”
Amens rang out in the few dozen attendees.
“If we say our sin caused the earthquake, does that mean there’s more sin in places where earthquakes are bigger?” he said. “Let us pray.”
The ceremony started with a familiar-sounding prayer. Daniel recognized it as Catholic. Next came the drums. And then people jumped to their feet and began dancing around, the movement in sync with the rising pulse of the drum beat.
Daniel was being taken to church? He sat in the last row of the makeshift sanctuary made of rocks. Nothing in him could connect to the words, the movement or the songs being sang.
Samuel, on the other hand, was all-in.
Out of courtesy, Daniel sat with his hand folded and his head bowed. He didn’t dare close his eyes for fear he’d seen the faces from his past again.
When the service was over, Daniel was ready to get the hell out of there.
Samuel leaned in and said, “I want to take you to see someone.”
Daniel shook his head. “I have much work to do, my friend. I’d better get back.”
“The work will be there when we return, no?” Samuel looked anxious. Like he had something very important to do.
Daniel conceded.
“Follow me. If you can keep up.” Samuel took off at a fast clip.
Daniel almost had to run to keep pace, memorizing landmarks along the way.
By the time they stopped, Daniel was hot and winded. He’d tried to keep track of where they went, just in case he needed to get back on his on his own. Military habits die hard. But
he’d lost track of the turns back there. Now, he’d have to put his faith in a man he didn’t know from Adam. That fact made Daniel very uncomfortable.
“Voodooists believe in God, but they don’t think He causes earthquakes,” Samuel said. “God has never pretended to be able to manage the Earth,” he continued. “Only Christians believe that—that God manages the Earth.”
“Is that where we’re going? To see a voodoo priest?” Daniel hesitated. He had no idea where he was or with whom. Samuel had shown up a few days ago, like so many others had. He’d grabbed a facemask and started hauling debris.
Daniel couldn’t help but note that a person could disappear in Haiti and not be missed. The mission organizers could easily send a report back home saying Daniel had been killed in an accident. No one would be surprised in a place like this.
Daniel’s heart fisted at the thought of never seeing Ruthie again.
He knew full-well that his past would catch up to him at some point. He’d been told and had convinced himself that he’d been eradicating the earth of low-life scum who deserved death during the mission. But that village, images of those innocent people haunted him. There’d be a price to pay.
“I have to get back,” he protested. The image of the man from yesterday haunted Daniel. There was something familiar about him that Daniel couldn’t put his finger on. Now he was wondering about ghosts?
“God created the laws of nature and set the world in motion and accidents like this earthquake are out of His control. Houngan says the dead will be reincarnated, and nature should not be blamed for killing them. Everything in nature is excellent. We feel that God is in nature, like nature is in God,” Samuel continued.
“Okay. But what does that have to do with me?” Daniel asked outright.
“I want to show you the beauty of my culture. You are a good man. You come to help when you could be in your American home living the good life watching sports on the seventy-two inch flat screen. Right?”
A wry smile crossed Daniel’s otherwise serious expression. The good life to him was his wife and daughter, and he hoped like hell that he wasn’t screwing that up permanently.
“You are sick.” Samuel pressed a hand to Daniel’s chest. “You don’t look well, Daniel, my friend. I bring you to my healer.”
Daniel followed the man into a makeshift home made from clay. An old sheet covered the doorway. His stomach was uneasy, his fists clenched just in case hell broke loose. He deeply regretted following Samuel into this hellhole.
This part of the world had already been forgotten and Daniel had just made the biggest mistake of all ... he’d followed a local away from camp. That had been the first warning he’d been issued during his half-day survival boot camp and he’d only been here three days and was already breaking the biggest rule of all.
“Wait here,” was all Samuel said before he disappeared out the back of the hut.
Daniel’s judgment had been clouded since seeing that...that friggen ghost yesterday. Daniel waited with his fists still clenched, his jaw muscle ticking, prepared for pretty much anything to walk through that door.
A willowy old man came through who was light on his feet, skinny, and wearing a multi-colored wrap. He looked about as threatening as an ice cream sundae. So, why did Daniel’s fists tense?
The old man circled Daniel.
“You have a curse. A strong curse,” the old man said.
“He’s not sure if he can erase it.” Samuel reappeared from the doorway behind Daniel. The hair on the back of Daniel’s neck pricked for the third time. But did he believe in voodoo bullshit?
Bad luck. Bad moods. Hell, bad hair days. Those he believed in.
“With all due respect, I’m fine.” He was tired, he was seeing crap that wasn’t there–crazy crap, and he wanted to go home. Daniel believed in what was real, what he could see. He sure as hell didn’t believe in mythical ramblings like curses.
The holy man took a step back and smiled. He seemed to realize that he would be wasting his time if he continued.
“We need to get back. There’s more work than men and daylight. We still have a chance to find people alive under the rubble. I’m going where I’m needed. You coming?” Daniel didn’t admit to Samuel that he couldn’t find his own way.
Samuel nodded. Daniel thanked the elder man before exiting.
Daniel fell in step beside the Haitian. Neither spoke on the walk back. As soon as Daniel recognized where he was he thanked Samuel and said, “I’m good from here. I’ll catch up to you later.”
“Sure. I’ll see you on the pile.” Samuel waved.
As Daniel returned to the tent he caught sight of Gunner, his former boss, speaking to a local. An ominous cloud formed over his heart when he saw Gunner’s expression.
Daniel stalked over to the head of his former company.
“I don’t work for ManTech anymore,” he started in.
“I know. ManTech doesn’t exist. I just thought I should be the one to tell you what happened.” Gunner’s tone matched his expression. The storm stirring in Daniel’s gut intensified, picking up speed.
“This is my new life,” he stated. “I don’t care about the past or anything in it.”
“I’m sorry.” Two words no man ever wanted to hear.
“For what? What did you do?”
When Gunner didn’t speak, the storm strengthened. The drumbeat in Daniel’s head intensified.
“What happened?” Daniel gripped Gunner by the arms because his worst fear was about to be realized. Naomi hadn’t answered his text this morning. She always answered.
“It happened last night. Miguel Nunez’s men were given your home address when Helena posted our employee files on the dark Web,” he stated. There was sorrow in his eyes.
“That’s not possible.” Daniel heard Gunner’s words but they were buzzing somewhere outside of his brain. No way could he let them in because that would mean one thing…his family was dead.
“This never should’ve happened,” Gunner said. “Your family didn’t deserve to be targets. I take full responsibility for Helena’s actions. If I’d stopped her before this never…”
“No.” Daniel took a swing at his former boss. Gale force winds pummeled Daniel as air whooshed from his lungs.
Gunner put up his forearm to block the punch but Daniel knocked the man back a couple of steps. Daniel kept charging toward Gunner, who winced as though ready to take whatever Daniel dished out.
Rage from deep within rose up, fueling every forward step toward his target.
“Both of them?” Daniel managed to get out through teeth clenched so hard his molars should crack in half.
Gunner nodded.
“How could you let this happen?” Daniel ground out. He drew back, ready to deliver another blow.
Before he could fire off the punch, Samuel and a couple of his Haitian friends were on either side of him, struggling to hold him back.
“It won’t change anything,” Samuel soothed.
“He killed my family.” Anger fed the storm brewing inside until it was a raging hurricane.
“I’m sorry,” Gunner said, bowing his head but standing his ground.
Daniel lunged forward but rebounded. The men gripped him harder. Others joined them, forming a circle around Daniel, chanting, praying.
“What did you do?” Daniel cried out, dropping to his knees.
Gunner pulled a report from under his arm. “It’s all in here. What happened. The breech. My men were close, so Nunez had to move fast. It was over in a flash for both of them. I thought you should know that. They didn’t suffer.”
Daniel struggled against the men’s arms, like bindings, holding him down.
He wanted to ram his fists into the nearest body. This couldn’t be real. His family couldn’t be gone. They had plans. Ruthie. She was going to be Wonder Woman this year for Halloween. And he and Naomi were going to get over the rough patch. Daniel had been more determined than ever to get a grip on his demons a
nd do right by her.
Ruthie wanted to learn how to bob for apples. This was the first year he’d be home to take her trick-or-treating. Daniel had mapped out the neighborhood and drawn up a plan. Naomi had shaken her head but he could see the amusement in her eyes. He was starting to break through the protective walls his wife had constructed, slowly building a bridge over the cavern between them.
However fleeting those moments of true connection had been, they’d been real. And now it was all gone?
There was no way it could be true.
Daniel tried to jerk free from the vise-like grips around his forearms.
“You’re a lying sonofabitch. Ruthie is home in bed right now. She’s safe and so is her mother. They’re asleep and that’s why Naomi didn’t answer—”
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” Daniel raged. “You don’t get to be sorry.”
“We couldn’t get there in time. The tip came in too late,” Gunner said.
“Get out of here. You’re a liar,” Daniel ground out. Anger. Torment. Rage nipped at him.
“I wish that was the case,” Gunner said. His head was still bowed and the look of anguish on his face said this was all too real.
Pain doubled Daniel over. Tears raced down his cheeks. He folded forward onto the dry dirt, rocking back and forth, wishing he could trade places, knowing he would give his life in a heartbeat if it could save either one of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Chapter 4
Two years later…
Havana, Cuba
“How’d you find me?” Daniel almost couldn’t believe who stood in front of him. Jaden Dean, now known by his real name of Jaden Orchard wore jeans, a sweat-soaked white T-shirt and a gold band on his wedding finger. No matter what the man called himself, he had a helluva lot of nerve showing up.
“It wasn’t easy.” Jaden kept one eye trained on Daniel.
“What are you doing here?” The two had worked together at ManTech. In fact, Jaden had been Daniel’s supervisor.
