Aaron

by I D Johnson

  “I don’t know,” she replied, clearly panicked.

  Aaron felt for a pulse but couldn’t find one. “Did you call Jamie?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she repeated, and then shaking her head, said, “No. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Breathe, Janette,” he said, placing a hand on her arm, but he couldn’t blame her. He felt the panic rising within him as well, but he shoved it back down. He needed to focus.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dialed Jamie’s number, who answered on the second ring. “Jamie, I need you in Jordan’s apartment right away. He’s been shot, and he’s not responsive.” Without a word in response, the doctor dropped the call, and Aaron knew he was on his way.

  Aaron went to the kitchen to get a towel, thinking pressure on the wound might help some, though he didn’t think there was anything that could be done to help Jordan except for a potential miracle from Jamie. He returned and gently flipped the Guardian Leader over so that he could see the damage. A gaping hole in the back of Jordan’s head revealed the source of the blood. “What happened?” Aaron asked, trying to keep his voice calm as he pressed the towel to the entry point.

  “Skelton,” Janette replied. “I wasn’t in here. He’d asked me to get… something out of the back. I don’t remember. I wasn’t gone two seconds when I heard a bang. I came running back in, and Jordan was on the ground, a revolver in Skelton’s hand. He said it was an accident. I knew not to trust him! I knew it!”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Aaron said, his voice much calmer than he felt on the inside. “I’m sure Jamie will do everything he can to help Jordan. Where did Skelton go?”

  “He ran,” Janette replied, ringing her hands.

  Before Aaron could assure her that they would find him, Jamie came through the doorway. Aaron moved out of the way and let the doctor take over. He helped Janette up as well, thinking Jamie needed as much space as possible. He led her over to the couch and sat her down, and she pulled on his arm, insisting he stay with her.

  A few minutes later, other members of the team began to trickle in, including Hannah, who took one look at the situation and demanded everyone back out of the apartment. There was no need to form a crowd. They listened and she allowed them to stand in the hallway as Jamie continued to work. Though they were mostly quiet, Aaron could hear worried voices asking what had happened and some speculative questions.

  After an hour of trying, Jamie collapsed on the floor next to Jordan. “I’m sorry…” he said. “It was too late.”

  Janette buried her head in Aaron’s shoulder and began to sob. While he felt his heart breaking as well, he knew he needed to be strong right now, strong for the woman in his arms and strong for the rest of his team. It would be impossible to replace Jordan Findley, but if the task fell on his shoulders, he would do his best to lead the team the way Jordan had taught him to, with strength and courage, even under the bleakest of circumstances.

  Jordan Findley was buried in his hometown of Des Moines, Iowa, on a sunny June day before a crowd of thousands. The local papers read that he died in a small plane crash, but the LIGHTS team members all knew the truth. Such occurrences were so rare, Aaron couldn’t even think of another time a Hunter had purposely killed a Guardian. Accidents happened from time to time, but never something like this. Teams were organized to hunt down Skelton, but so far there hadn’t even been a sign of him, causing speculation that he had been killed as well.

  Janette had yet to recover from her loss. Having spent one hundred thirty years married to and working side-by-side with this man, she had always assumed she’d die long before he even considered trying to find a way out of his existence. He could potentially live forever. She would pass on; that was the way it was supposed to be. This was an unnatural ending that she had never seen coming.

  Janette had two surviving children and their spouses to comfort her, as well as legions of Hunters and Guardians around the world who reached out to offer their condolences, but Aaron could see the light had gone out behind her eyes, and he wondered if she would ever find it again. He knew that feeling, even if he didn’t have the volume of memories to reflect on like Janette did. Still, not a day passed that he didn’t think of Aislyn and their daughter.

  She called him to her apartment one afternoon a week or so after the funeral. The blood was cleaned from the floor and it looked as if nothing had ever happened, though Aaron knew the stain was deeper than it appeared. He found her in the bedroom, packing her things. After hugging him, she said quietly, “I’ve decided to go home.”

  The Findleys maintained a home in Des Moines, and though they never vacationed, they did work from there on occasion when they needed a break from the hustle and bustle of headquarters. Aaron nodded. “Okay. Do you need help packing?”

  “I’m just taking what I need for now. I’ll send for the rest later. You needn’t worry about that now.” She led him over to the bed and gestured for him to sit beside her. Her hair looked grayer than he remembered, her shoulders slumped, and her eyes were swollen. It was as if she’d aged a decade in a few days. “I’m walking away, Aaron,” she said, patting him on the knee. “I’m done.”

  Not quite sure he understood, though the statement seemed fairly cut-and-dried, he said, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ll continue to work with the organization as a consultant, but I will no longer be the Hunter Leader. In fact, I will no longer be a Hunter at all.”

  “How is that possible?” Aaron asked, not sure he was comprehending.

  With a sigh, she continued. “Jamie has been working closely with a doctor in the Caribbean to create a serum that will allow Hunters to return to their former lives. While they initially hoped it might work for Guardians, too, so far, those tests have been disastrous. But the Hunter trials went very well, and it works, most of the time. I’m confident in Jamie’s ability to return me to my human form. And so, I’m meeting with him this afternoon to do so.”

  “That sounds very dangerous,” Aaron replied. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Most definitely,” she answered. “I’m sure that you, more than most, can understand what it might be like for me to face a future without my love. While I can’t join him right away, this way I know I will be able to soon.”

  Realizing there was nothing he could say to change her mind, Aaron only nodded. “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Lead,” she replied, her brown eyes finally smiling. “Take this organization and make it even better. Fight the good fight, as they say. We believe in you, Aaron. If anyone is capable of taking this on, it’s you.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I… I don’t know…” he stammered.

  “I do,” she assured him. “Of course, there will need to be a formal vote… eventually. But I have no doubt the others will agree that you are the best Guardian for the job.”

  While he was having a difficult time accepting what she was saying, Aaron nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” She patted him firmly on the leg and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Aaron, life is full of bitterness and evil. There are so many unhappy people in this world. Let the past go. Open your heart to the possibility of love. It might not be easy, but it’s what Aislyn would have wanted for you. It’s what I want for you. You deserve happiness. Don’t miss out on it just because of the past.”

  Chapter 14

  Tulsa, Oklahoma, America, 1985

  “Tell me why we are doing this again,” Jamie insisted from the passenger seat of the Buick Somerset Aaron was pulling into a parking spot outside of a shady looking nightclub. It was past midnight, a time when they would typically be hunting the undead, but tonight their mark was someone else entirely.

  “’Cause Janette asked us to,” Aaron replied as he put the car in park and turned off the engine.

  “Yeah, but if the Tulsa team has already approached this guy several times, and he doesn’t want to jo
in them, why would he go with us now?”

  “I don’t know,” Aaron replied, pushing the door open. “She asked us to try, so we’ll try.” He got out of the car and headed into the establishment, hoping to get this over with rather quickly.

  It only took him a moment to find the man he was looking for. At six-two and well over two hundred pounds, an unruly mop of dark hair on his head, he was certain the guy in the back with the pool stick in his hand, his mouth running, and a crowd of onlookers surrounding him must be Elliott Sanderson.

  “It smells like a toilet in here,” Jamie remarked, looking very uncomfortable.

  “We’ve taken out Vampires in worse,” Aaron reminded him.

  “That’s different. I’m distracted while we are doing that. This is just… gross.”

  Shaking his head, Aaron developed a plan to approach the burly storyteller. He made his way over to where the crowd was gathered and listened in as Elliott recounted an adventurous tale involving selling a used car to a mob boss, pausing only when it was his turn to make a shot. The crowd listened and laughed as he animatedly relived the events as he chose to remember them.

  Clearly, he was using his special abilities as a Guardian to take subtle advantage of the humans he played against, and it became clear quite quickly that none of the others had a chance against the highly skilled billiards player.

  Aaron saw the Guardian glance in his direction several times, but Elliott didn’t acknowledge him, and he wondered if he knew who he was or just recognized his own kind. Lots of girls had noticed the two new faces, too, but Aaron and Jamie both ignored them, hoping they would get the hint and leave them alone.

  The opportunity to interject himself into the conversation finally came, though it was difficult for anyone to get a word in edgewise with Elliott’s storytelling capabilities. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Aaron finally said while Elliott sharpened his pool stick.

  “I don’t know. You play?” he asked, gesturing at the table.

  “Not well,” Aaron admitted. “But I can try. I’m Aaron McReynolds,” he said offering his hand.

  Elliott looked at it and then back at Aaron’s face. “I know who you are,” he replied, taking the offered hand with a cautious air. “What I don’t know is why you are here. I told those last folks no thanks, and I’ll tell you the same.”

  “Fair enough,” Aaron replied. “I’m here as a favor to a friend who thinks you could help us out about as much as we could help you, but, hey, if you don’t think you need us, that’s cool with me.”

  Elliott looked past him at Jamie, who stood with his hands in his pockets, looking bored, and then back at Aaron. “Why don’t you let me take some of your money first, and then I’ll remind you that I don’t want nothin’ to do with what you’re all about.”

  Thinking it couldn’t hurt, Aaron nodded, and went about selecting a pool stick while Jamie shook his head and found a seat at a nearby table.

  When Aaron returned, he found two lanky men talking to Elliott insisting they had next on the table. “Hey, why don’t the two of you take on me and my friend?” he asked, patting Aaron on the shoulder as if they were long lost pals.

  Not sure if Elliott was just reluctant to give up the table or if he had another angle, Aaron agreed, and before he knew it, Elliott had negotiated a hundred-dollar bet on the game—per person.

  “I’m not a very good billiards player,” Aaron whispered to Elliott as the other two walked to the end of the table.

  “This is Oklahoma. It’s called pool,” Elliott replied, making a face. “Don’t worry about it, man. I got this.”

  It was clear that he did have it, too, as the game got started. Elliott made shot after shot, and while their opponents were also good, they were unable to keep up with the burly man with the curly hair whose crowd was back to cheer him on.

  Aaron was definitely rusty and missed the first few shots, but after a few pointers from Elliott, he got better, and by the time the first match was over, Elliott happily pocketed the two hundred dollars from the two skinny friends.

  “Hey, we make a pretty good team,” Elliott said, not offering any of the winnings to his partner.

  “I agree. Why don’t you come back to Kansas City, and we’ll talk about that?” the Leader offered.

  “What, and leave all this? No thanks, boss.” Before Aaron could make another offer, Elliott’s face shifted; his eyes widened, and he mumbled, “Aw shit.”

  Turning to look at the door, Aaron watched as a gang of bikers poured through the door. So far there were six, and they just kept coming, each bigger and badder than the last.

  “That’s my cue to get out of here,” he said taking a step back, as if he might sprint out the back door at any moment.

  Aaron wasn’t sure what the big deal was. They might be imposing, but they were humans. “They can’t hurt you,” he reminded his former pool partner.

  “No, they can’t kill me. But they can punch my face into a bloody pulp.”

  “Hey! Sanderson!” the biker in front hollered, and the entire group turned in force, plodding forward across the small bar area, their sights all set on one objective.

  Elliott turned and took two quick steps toward the back, where Aaron assumed there must be another exit. He froze in place. Four more bikers came from that direction. “Well, shit,” he muttered.

  The friends were all gone now, hiding under tables or scrambling around the bikers and out the exits. Even the bartender had disappeared behind the counter. Aaron looked at Jamie, who stood and shrugged, as if to say, “What the hell?” and Aaron picked up a pool stick off of the table behind him.

  Everything unfolded pretty quickly. As soon as the first biker was close enough, Aaron swung the pool stick, connecting with his face, and sending blood splattering against his closest friends. After that, there was a flurry of punches, flying furniture, and screams from the women who cowered beneath the tables and in the corners.

  Aaron knew the Guardians could easily kill the bikers if they wanted to, but that didn’t seem necessary or fair, and he could tell Elliott either thought the same thing or just didn’t realize exactly what he was capable of as the blows he was landing were forceful but not deadly.

  While Jamie could instantaneously heal himself after every punch, Aaron and Elliott were not so lucky, and after a few rounds, they began looking for an exit plan. All three of them should be able to run past the bikers if they could free themselves from the constant barrage of fists. Eventually, Aaron saw Jamie duck beneath the pool table, and he tossed him the keys to the car, an indicator that he should make a run for the door and start the vehicle.

  Once he saw Jamie clear the front door, Aaron shouted, “Elliott!” and nodded at the exit.

  Elliott was engaged with two of the bigger bikers, swinging a barstool around his head like a lasso and clubbing each of them in the skull.

  Aaron tore the top off of one of the circular tables and tossed it at the crowd of bikers like a Frisbee, knocking them into each other and sending them tumbling to the ground. That was enough of a break to give him and Elliott a chance to head for the parking lot.

  As soon as they broke through the door, Elliott shouted, “See ya, boss,” but one glance at his car showed otherwise; not only was it surrounded by motorcycles, the tires were stacked on the hood and trunk.

  “Get in!” Jamie shouted, and with a glance over his shoulder at the army of bikers streaming from the bar, Aaron pushed Elliott toward the back seat of the Somerset and dove for the front seat. In a flurry of dust, Jamie backed out of the parking lot and sped away, knowing he could outrun the bikers if he could put enough distance between them before they even hopped on their bikes.

  Once it was clear that they had gotten away, Aaron looked in the mirror to assess the damage. He had lots of cuts and scrapes on his face and his knuckles were bloody. One eye was blackening, and his bottom lip was swollen.

  “He ain’t pretty no more,” Elliott laughed from the back seat.
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  Aaron turned to look at him and realized Elliott looked even worse. Blood splattered the side of his head, and his nose didn’t seem to be straight anymore. “You’re one to talk.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t pretty to begin with,” Elliott shot back.

  Jamie glanced over at Aaron and then put his hand on his face. A few seconds later, he pulled his hand away and Aaron was back to normal. “Thanks,” he said. “You need me to drive?”

  “I’m all right,” Jamie yawned.

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” Elliott chimed in. “I want to be pretty again, too.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have that kind of power,” Jamie replied, glancing at Elliott in the rearview mirror.

  “Oooh, the Healer’s a wiseass, too. I like it!” Elliott mused. “Seriously, fix my face, man. It hurts.”

  “I’ll let Jamie pull over and repair the damage,” Aaron explained. “But you’ve got to promise not to take off on us. I saw what you were trying to pull back there. After all that, the least you can do it come back to headquarters with us and hear us out.”

  “You want me to go all the way back to Kansas City with you?” Elliott asked. “I have a job, you know. I have a life.”

  “Why would you want to sell used cars for a living when you could do so much more?” Aaron asked, sincerely not understanding the logic.

  “I told you. I know what you guys do. It’s not for me.” His arms were crossed against his burly chest, his still-bleeding face convicted.

  “Look, I was asked to bring you in and show you what we do. If you don’t like it, fine. You can go. But at least hear us out, all right?”

  “Fine,” Elliott finally conceded. “But I can tell you right now, there’s no way in hell I’m staying.”

  “Fair enough,” Aaron nodded, thinking this guy may be more trouble than he was worth. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t stay after all. At least he’d tried, and that’s all he’d promised Janette he would do.

  Chapter 15