“Do you think it’s the Arm?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t heard from them since we got here. I’ve made it a point not to reach out to Alyssa and as far as I can tell, she’s respected that and hasn’t tried to initiate contact either. I didn’t think it was worth the risk.”
“We need to step up our plan. What are we going to do? Do you still have the business card that woman gave you?”
Darien slammed on the brakes as they rounded a corner and the car slid through the dirt and small rocks, coming to a stop only a few feet from Omba’s truck. It was stopped in the middle of the trail, blocking the path to the main road. There was no way around with their vehicle. The trees were too thick on either side. Darien couldn’t see anyone in the driver’s seat.
Susan reached back to her backpack and pulled out her handgun, checking to make sure it was loaded before tucking it into a pocket of her jacket. Darien looked over at her and she nodded. The two of them stepped out of the car, leaving it running.
“Omba?” Darien called out while standing behind his open door.
Chapter 6
When there was no response, Darien closed the door and walked to the driver’s side of the truck. Susan stood where she was, leaning against the frame of the car. From that vantage point, she would be able to use the car itself to steady her arm if necessary. When he was next to the truck, Darien stood on his toes to peer over the door and through the window. The driver’s cab was empty.
“Sorry about that.”
Darien jumped when he heard a voice coming from the path to Omba’s cabin. Susan whipped out her gun, chambered a round in one smooth action, and pointed it at the newcomer. When she recognized Omba, she eased her grip on the weapon and clicked on the safety before tucking it away. Omba held up both of his hands and froze on the trail, looking from Susan to Darien and back.
“Now it’s my turn to apologize. Sorry about that, Omba. I didn’t know it was you. I hope I didn’t frighten you too much.”
Omba laughed his familiar deep-throated chuckle. Now that the threat had passed, he put his hands down and picked up the toolbox dropped at his feet. He carried it to the back of the truck and laid it down in the bed, opening it and rooting around. The heavy metal objects clattered around as he fished for something specific.
“Miss Susan, I have dealt with far worse than that in my time. It’ll take more than a gun pointed in my general direction to get me to soil myself and get my heart racing. Now, I don’t mind anyone carrying. I’ve done so myself up here plenty of times. But you two seem a bit jumpy. Is there trouble of some sort? Anything I should know about?”
His nature was friendly and familiar as always, but Darien couldn’t help but feel like it was too familiar. Darien took a step away from the truck, adding a bit of distance between himself and Omba.
“We were just heading into town and got concerned when we saw your truck blocking the road. What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m not sure. The engine died when I got it up onto the main path. I tried to start it again, but it wouldn’t turn over. So I figured I’d go grab my tools and see if I could fix whatever’s wrong with it. It’s not exactly like I can just call a tow truck, now can I?”
Omba stood up straight with a heavy wrench and a couple of pairs of pliers in his hands. He walked around to the front and gestured for Darien to come closer.
“Why don’t you give me a hand with this since you’re the last one to use my truck? For all I know, you fried the engine. After all, I’ve seen how you drive Richard’s truck, almost hitting trees on your way up and down the path.”
Again he gave one of his barking laughs and then held out the tools to Darien. It was clear that he was not going to accept no for an answer. At least, not without an explanation. Darien nodded and stepped forward, taking the tools in hand while Omba popped the hood of the truck. When it was raised, Darien’s nose was assaulted with a heavy odor of burnt oil. The fumes made him cough and turn away, but Omba strode forward, snatching one of the pliers out of Darien’s outstretched hand.
For the most part, Darien felt like an accessory. The internal workings of the engine were beyond him. It was something he never bothered to learn. It occurred to him that this must be what his grandfather felt like when he tried to explain how computers worked back in high school. Darien did as instructed, holding this bolt or that one, and tightening things down as he was instructed. At one point he stood on his toes, leaning precariously over the engine of the truck as he tried to hold bolts in place on opposite sides of the engine.
“So you’re running off, eh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with the two dead bodies on the trail and the new car, would it?”
Darien stared at Omba, unable to speak for a few seconds. He tried a couple of times to form words, but his mouth moved and no sound came out.
“They’ve been watching you for a while now. A week or so, I think. They have to be with the Shadows. Yes, I’m a shifter, too. But don’t ask, just listen. I can tell you that the Arm also knows you’re here and are trying to keep an eye on you. I don’t know how they found you, but they did, about a week ago. Probably close to when the Shadows did. This isn’t a safe place if you’re trying to hide out.”
“How?”
“I used to be with the Arm. Consider me one of their honorary retired members. They contacted me to ask me to keep an eye on you, maybe even try to take you out. Apparently, some people consider you a threat. But we’d already met by then and I like you and Susan. Richard too, when he doesn’t have a stick up his ass. So, I told them I never saw you. Not sure if they’ll believe me. But I don’t care too much. Not my business. I’ve been done with their stupid politics for years now.”
Omba finished tightening down the last bolt and then nodded for Darien to let go. When Darien did, he could do little more than stand next to the front of the truck. In a daze, he handed over the tools. Omba walked around him and climbed into the cab, turning the key in the ignition. The truck rumbled to life with a roar that made Darien wince and shook him out of his stunned state.
“Well, that seems to have fixed whatever the problem was. She’s an old lady, but she’s got it where it counts. Thanks for the help. I’ll just get this beast out of your way and you can head to town. I think I’m going back home and enjoying some time in the lake.”
With a final wave, Omba backed his truck down the trail, moving slowly as he maneuvered his way to his cabin in reverse. Darien stood and watched him go, still a little stunned by the interaction. He made his way back to the car after Omba disappeared around a corner.
“He’s a little weird sometimes, but I still like him.”
“Yeah, so do I.”
They spoke little as they continued their journey. Susan turned on the radio, scanning for a station and finally settling on a classic rock channel. By the time that Darien and Susan passed the city limits for Packwood, the sun was high in the sky and most of the frost had burned off, except for where the trees provided perpetual shade. The city was active, with people walking around and going from place to place taking part in their daily lives. Calling such a small town busy would have been a stretch, but there were a few cars on the roads as well as some strangers.
They pulled into the gas station, parking next to the pumps opposite a small green Mazda Protégé. Cole stood next to his car, filling some gas cans and watching them as they drove up. When he saw Darien and Susan through the windshield he nodded and gave a wave. Darien was guessing if he was up this early, he must not have been drinking the night before. Maybe Anne was finally getting through to him.
Darien didn’t know Cole well. They had talked a few times, once on the only occurrence where Darien went to the local bar. He had a rough night and tried to use alcohol to drown both his desire to shift and his feelings of helplessness at his cursed fate. Considering that he almost told Cole all about being a Sheynan, he never risked it again.
What he did learn was that Cole was trying to
make ends meet and had struggled through an odd series of jobs, drifting from town to town until he wound up here. He acted like he was running from something, but never trusted Darien enough, or got drunk enough, to confess what it was. While they weren’t friends, that night had given them a comfortable, if awkward, sense of kinship.
“New wheels?” Cole asked as Darien returned from prepaying for twenty bucks worth of gas.
“Yeah. Rental car. Richard took the truck, and we needed something to get around in. Figured this’d do for now.”
“Gotcha. You gonna be around town tonight? Wanna head to the Blue Spruce?”
“I don’t think we’ll be around. We were planning on a bit of a road trip. Maybe next time.”
“Cool.”
Cole finished fueling his car and walked into the store, leaving Darien standing alone next to the pumps. He just watched, waiting for the numbers to tick by until they hit twenty. The sound of a revving engine forced him to turn. A red compact car rushed through an intersection and swerved to come into the gas station parking lot. It rushed up right behind his vehicle and then slammed on the brakes. Susan whipped around in the passenger’s seat, trying to see what was going on.
Three people—two women and one man—poured out of the car almost before it came to a complete stop. The man from the backseat had the type of grin that made Darien’s stomach churn.
“Dolores, fetch.”
The woman on the driver’s side ran towards him without so much as a word. Darien took several steps back, trying to get around the front of his car. She shifted into a large Austrian Shepherd in midstride and continued to rush him. The animal lunged forward, soaring through the last few feet in the air. Darien dove over the hood of the car, sliding across to the other side and out of the way. He heard glass shatter and saw Cole standing in the doorway to the store, a smashed bottle scattered at his feet.
“Get out of here!” Darien shouted.
Susan slammed the door open, taking a step out and moving to shield Darien from the other woman rushing them. She grabbed Susan’s shoulder, attempting to pull the smaller woman out of the way, but she didn’t account for Susan’s strength. Susan went with the motion at first, but then turned her shoulder and slammed it into her attacker’s face.
“Marissa!” The man screamed out as the woman fell back to the ground, clutching her nose. Blood poured out between her fingers as she looked up at Susan.
Susan spared her a quick glance before looking up at the man approaching her. She drew her gun out of her jacket and leveled it at his chest. He held up his hands and stopped rushing forward. With her attention divided between the two, Susan didn’t risk a glance over her shoulder to see how Darien was faring with the dog.
Dolores scrambled around the front of the car, her claws scraping against the cement with a sound like a file scraping across metal. Her body whipped around the front bumper and she was on top of Darien before he had a chance to do anything except turn in her direction. He reached up, grabbing her neck and extending his arms, trying to keep her teeth away from his face. She snapped and spittle washed over him forcing him to squint and turn his face. The force of her leap drove him against the open door of the car, slamming it into Susan from behind.
The blow caused her to stumble and she fired a shot. The bullet pierced the man in the chest and he dropped back, clutching at the wound with both hands. Marissa grabbed Susan’s wrist and yanked down, pulling Susan to the ground. She struck it with a grunt, and tried to roll away, but Marissa rolled on top of her and wrapped her arm around Susan’s throat. Susan’s back arched and she clawed at the arm around her neck, but couldn’t get a good grip.
Without Susan’s body holding the door open, it slammed shut, letting Darien to fall to the ground. The impact loosened his arms and Dolores got close enough to gouge the side of his face with one canine on her next snap. Darien shoved back, trying to get her off of him, but she danced to the side with her body and kept her face in striking distance.
Above all the chaos, Darien heard a primal bellow. There was a solid crunch, like the snapping of a few branches but wetter. The dog yelped and rolled off of him, twitching. Cole stood over the shifter with a tire iron in his hand and brought the weapon down on her ribs a second time. Her legs stopped twitching and there was a gurgle as she tried to breathe.
Before Darien could recover from the shock, Cole turned and rushed Marissa. He swung the tire iron upwards like a golf club, clipping her against the side of the head hard enough to make her neck snap to the side. Susan scrambled free, coughing as she made her way to the gun lying on the pavement a few feet away. Cole ignored her and swung a few more times, until the other car peeled out backwards. Cole jerked up and ran two steps after the car, throwing his tire iron at it as it sped away.
When he turned around, he walked back to his car. Darien pushed himself up against his tire and looked at the two broken bodies on the ground. He checked on Susan, but she waved him off. She recovered her gun and was looking around for any other attackers. Darien walked towards Cole, hand outstretched in a gesture of thanks. Cole snatched one of his gas cans and whirled around, shoving through Darien as if he didn’t see the other man. His face was tightened and his lip curled, showing his top teeth.
“Darien, we need to go. I fired my gun. The police’ll be here any minute.”
She was right. Things were worse than he anticipated. Darien ran up to Cole, grabbing his shoulder and trying to turn him around. He dropped the gas can and whipped around, slamming his fist into Darien’s jaw. Darien dropped on his ass and scrambled to get his wits back, but Cole had already picked up his gas can and was walking towards the bodies again, muttering under his breath just loud enough for Darien to make out the words.
“Fucking shifters. Hate the things. They should burn.”
It wasn’t worth getting involved. If Cole knew what he was, that rage might just as easily shift in his direction. His mind made up, Darien hustled to the driver’s side door. He jumped into the car and turned the key almost before he was in the seat. As he and Susan sped away, he looked in his rearview mirror and saw Cole pouring the contents of the gas can over the two still-breathing bodies. He tossed the can behind him and pulled out a lighter. Darien stopped watching and focused on the road ahead of him.
Chapter 7
The car was silent as they sped away, taking the shortest possible route out of town. Darien tried to get a handle on his own mind, and was sure that Susan was doing the same. It wasn’t until they hit the highway that his arms stopped shaking and he was able to loosen his death grip on the steering wheel. Violence was one thing when you were prepared for it, but he still had trouble adjusting when it came out of nowhere.
“What the hell?” Susan spoke with a pause between each word as she articulated what they both felt.
Susan’s question broke the silence and opened the floodgates to Darien’s mind. His words came out in a mad jumble without a pause for breath.
“They shifted in public. In daylight! Right where anyone could’ve seen them. Nobody does that. Both groups know that’s insane. I don’t understand. Why would they do that? And Cole? What was that? Did you see him? It was like he was possessed or something. And he knew! He knew what they were! He hated them. I’ve never seen anyone that… so filled with rage. What’re we going to do?”
When he finished, he forced himself to take several deep breaths in the silence that followed. His arms tensed up again on the wheel as he pushed himself back into the driver’s seat. After a few moments, he felt Susan’s hand on his leg and it acted as an anchor, reeling in his wild thoughts.
“First thing you need to do is buckle your seat belt, otherwise we’re going to get pulled over.”
Darien let loose a nervous chuckle. He reached back and clasped the buckle into place. He also eased off the gas, letting the car coast back down to the speed limit rather than being twenty miles per hour over it.
“Do you think that was the Shadows?”
Darien had no doubts. Even with what Omba told him, it was still more overt than the Arm had ever shown themselves to be.
“I think so. It just doesn’t seem like the Arm’s style, and I can’t imagine that it was just a random bunch of people not affiliated with either group. I don’t think we’re going to be able to make a run for it like we talked about. They’re too close. And we both know how persistent they are.”
“Are you thinking we should call the government agents?”
“It might be our best bet right now. I have their card in my pocket.”
Darien reached down and fished out the card, handing it over to Susan so she could place the call while he drove. Since it was the early part of the day, the small two-lane highway had a couple of cars on it—most likely hikers. He struggled to think of what day it was and couldn’t remember. When you lived according to your own schedule, weekends and weekdays blended together. Based on the number of cars, he was guessing it had to be a weekend, or else it would be a lot sparser.
“Hi. My name’s Susan Price and I was trying to get in touch with Callie Clements. Oh, hello Agent Clements. Yes, this is about Darien. We talked it over and we decided to take you up on your offer. What? Of course. He’s right here with me. Hold on a sec.”
Susan handed over the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
“This is Darien.”
“I apologize for the formality, Mister Yost, but my superiors often like to make sure that things are all done according to protocol. I needed to speak with you directly to verify what Miss Price said. Is it true that you want to come in and hear the details of our offer for possible employment?”
“Yes. You said you could provide protection, right?”
“That is correct. We’ll come by to pick you up in a couple of hours. Just stay tight and wait for us to arrive. We’ll be there shortly.”
“That might actually be a bit of a problem. Things got a little heated, and we’re driving down US 12 right now, heading west. I think we’re about…”
The Torn Soul (The Sheynan Trilogy Book 3) Page 5
