by Vince Milam
“Still the same. I think. Sure, cowboy. Go lie down.”
“I think isn’t all that comforting,” Cole said. “You haven’t rigged some mini-crossbow that’ll shoot an arrow into my ass, have you?”
They signed off and Cole continued to lie in the grass. The cop car lights flashed a surreal element to the moonlit shadows. He groaned as he stood and checked with Special Agent Hector before trudging up the stairs to her garage apartment. He pulled his pistol as he climbed, just to be sure.
Chapter 47
He woke as Nadine entered. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, and he smiled from the couch. “What time is it?”
“Eight. Brought some breakfast. Egg and sausage burritos.”
She moved across the room and reviewed Francois’s condition. “He wants to have a conference call this morning. All of us.”
Cole’s drained persona persisted, but it was a new day, bright and clear. Another shot at life. Gotta keep moving forward.
He stood, stretched, and padded into the kitchen. “What’s the national news?” he asked as he reached for the ground coffee to begin the process. “And don’t tell Francois I’m doing this.” Nadine smiled and handed him the coffee machine’s filter.
She reviewed the nationwide relief, the continued vigilance, and news the Syrian city of Raqqa had been hit hard. “We’re claiming responsibility for those strikes. And claiming we’re going to form another coalition to go after ISIS on the ground.”
“That’s not going to happen, is it?”
“Nope. But it’ll hold off the media for a while and make people happy.”
Cole steered clear of geopolitical strategies. His small Rockport world, with mayoral and city council politics, was strange enough. He couldn’t imagine how convoluted it must be on a national scale.
“You alright?” he asked. More than a conversational gambit, he wanted to know—to understand—her state of mind.
“I could sleep for three days. I try not to get bogged down with what happened. Keep looking forward.”
“You and me both.”
The conference call took time to organize. Jude and Jean were together but Luke remained in the hospital, recovering from his gunshot wound. Nick waffled on participation under the excuse DHS remained incredibly busy, but Cole had a heart-to-heart with him and straightened it out.
“It’s not an option, Nick. You’re part of this. The gathering. Like it or not.”
“I know it, Cole. I know. Hit me like a ton of bricks sitting with Luke after he was shot. But I’ve got a confession.”
“Go ahead.”
“Just between us—and let’s keep it that way—there are career considerations. This whole thing could paint me into the strange corner.”
Cole empathized with the young DHS agent. He explained that Nick had a valid point and one possibly mitigated through Zuhdi’s support. But Cole didn’t hold back on the reality of organizational perception. It mattered a great deal, and this young man could indeed end up relegated to the tinfoil hat crowd. “That’s a fact, Nick, and I don’t have anything to offer except the possibility—a strong possibility—you’ve been chosen. I fought it for dang near a year.”
Nick sighed. “Yeah. And I’m swirling around the drain of acceptance. But you’re right about being a part of it, at least for the moment. So, okay, I’ll be on the call.”
Nadine had a speakerphone system and, after pauses and redials, the gathering assembled.
“Alright,” Nadine said. “Everyone’s on. Jude and Luke, tell us about your condition. Both wounded. I’m so sorry.”
“A moment, s’il vous plaît,” Francois said. “A crisis has developed.” As he spoke away from the cell phone, the gathering heard him address someone in his hospital room. “Mademoiselle, one might consider this food adequate for a Libyan prison. Surely, this establishment can do better.” Then back into his cell phone as he addressed the group. “Pardon, pardon. They shall endeavor a second attempt, although my expectations remain quite low in this regard. Now, mes amis, tell us of your injuries.”
“Since you’ve got the floor, Francois, tell us about yours,” Jude said.
“Minor. Most minor. And you, ma chère?”
“I was shot in the head.”
“Mon Dieu!”
“Yeah, no kidding. Jean thinks it’s no more than a bug bite.”
“She’s fine,” Jean said.
Cole exchanged a smile with Nadine across the room.
“Luke?” Nadine asked. “Nick told us about your exploits. Never heard of such a thing. Charging someone firing a pistol at you? Oh, man.”
“The armor of God,” Luke said. “The injury is not severe. I will be at full force in short order.”
They shared their personal stories and questions flew. At length, Francois, Jude, and Luke dominated the conversation and focused on the Enemy.
“We were drawn together, and the Enemy drew to us,” Luke said. The theme of collective power and effort and the Enemy’s attempted incursions governed their discussion. Francois bemoaned his lack of active conflict with demonic forces.
“Getting stabbed in the chest is a pretty doggone active role, bud,” Cole said. Francois ignored his remark, and an hour flew by. They landed on the issue of next steps.
“Let’s get together,” Jude said. “Face to face. Soon.”
“I would agree, Jude,” Luke said. “The gathering assembled. Perhaps somewhere other than Boise.”
Conversation about travel drove home how much Cole missed Rockport. It had been almost three weeks since he’d walked those familiar streets, and the rhythms of a small coastal town pulled hard. “How about Rockport?” he asked the group. “Beaches. Seafood. Maybe some fishing.”
Nadine lifted an eyebrow at him across the room. “Not real convenient,” she whispered.
“That sounds good,” Jean said. “Could use a little warm weather.”
“No, cher,” Francois stated. “It shall be well beyond warm at that place when we are able to travel. Be most assured, the heat is fierce. Draining.”
“D.C.,” Nick stated. “Let’s assemble here. Zuhdi would like to meet everyone. Plenty to see and do. Easy to get to from anywhere.”
Nick’s suggestion was adopted. Three weeks—sufficient time for Francois and Luke to recover and travel. The gathering would meet in D.C., strengthen the alliance, and plan the future.
They signed off, and Nadine’s apartment fell silent. Mule slept on the couch, and the low hum of servers and computers gave white-noise background.
“I’m going to crash,” Nadine said and stretched. “Might sleep twenty-four hours.” She padded past Cole and squeezed his shoulder. “Then head for Forth Worth. Visit my friend’s grave.”
He stood and opened her apartment door, prepared to leave. “I’ll head back to the hotel, clean up, and sleep on an actual bed.”
Nadine leaned against the frame of her open bedroom door, Cole turned to say goodbye, and they locked eyes. The dog-tired lines on her face had faded, a reprieve due no doubt to the weight of the world no longer resting on her shoulders. The filtered daylight highlighted her hair’s flyaways. She looked better than fine.
“Did you mean it?” she asked. “When you said you loved me?”
“Every word.” Their eyes remained locked.
“I love you, too.” Her eyes dropped to her sneaker-clad foot tapping tight threes on the wooden floor. “I’ve known it for a long time.” She raised her head and shared a loving look. “You don’t have to go. No pressure, Cole, just saying.”
He broke eye contact and twisted his head to view the outdoors. The old oaks in the quiet neighborhood reminded him of the brevity of human life. The huge gnarled trees, limbs twisted parallel with the ground, would stand for a hundred years more. He, and Nadine, wouldn’t.
He left the apartment door open and moved to the middle of her small main room. Nadine met him.
The first kiss was tentative, gentle. Their faces pulled apart an
d each stared lovingly at the other. Cole’s nostrils flared and he pulled her closer, tight, a full body embrace. Their kiss rose in passion, love and relief flooded, and Nadine sighed. They moved forward, always forward.
THE END
Thank you for reading Gather The Seekers!
I hope you enjoyed the experience, and thank you for joining me on the trip.
A good tale told. That’s what you’ll find with the Challenged World Series. Come celebrate remarkable characters that band together to confront evil. To make a stand.
Please check out the first two books in the series – The Unknown Element and Pretty Little Creatures – as our intrepid trio face horrific situations, terrorists, and, of course, hellish adversaries.
Meanwhile, I would love to hear from you. I can be contacted via:
www.vincemilam.com
or
[email protected]
Finally, I need to ask a favor. If you are so inclined, I’d love a review of Gather The Seekers on Amazon. Whether you relished it or it put you to sleep—I would appreciate your feedback. A sentence or two of your opinion.
Again, thank you so much for dedicating the time to spend with me and the Gathering of Seekers.
Sincerely,
Vince Milam
