by Eden Ashley
Ethan stared down at the table where one fist was tightly clenched inside of the other. “I’m sorry. You’ve got the wrong guy. My name is not Apollo.”
“Of course it isn’t. Apollo was just a call sign—a nickname we gave you that night.”
“Why Apollo?” Ethan asked, still showing no sign of believing he was the guy who Max thought he was.
“Because you moved the sun for us.”
Ethan shook his head. “My name is Ethan. Ethan Remington. I think it’s great—what you guys do for this country, but I was never enlisted.”
Looking from Davey and back to Ethan, Max shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest. “Sergeant, the only thing different about you is your first name. Back then you were Adam.”
Ethan pinned Davey with wide eyes clearly begging for help. Feeling a surge of sympathy, she reached beneath the table and placed her hand against Ethan’s shaking knee. At her touch, he stilled. She moved the focus of her gaze to Max. “Tell us more about the night this guy, Apollo, saved your unit.”
“Alright.” Max made a quick but cautious survey of the diner. “Mind if I sit down? Technically anything I tell you about this mission remains classified information.”
Davey slid to one side of the booth to make room for the former soldier. “The floor is yours.”
Max took a seat next to her. “You’re probably too young to remember, but nine years ago, some pretty crazy shit went down in Islamabad, Pakistan. The entire city was overrun by an epidemic this world had never seen before, a disease capable of turning humans into creatures…blood-thirsty monsters. Somehow the Pakistanis swept the whole thing under the rug. Our government probably helped with the cover-up.”
Max was right. Davey was too young to truly remember the events he spoke of, but the whispers of the almost decade-old conspiracy remained plenty abundant. With the right search, old footage of the Pakistani disaster could be uncovered online. “It happened in New York too. But not as nearly as bad.”
Max nodded.
Still not getting it, Davey shrugged. “So, what does this have to do with Ethan?”
The ex-soldier leaned in closer. “What I have to tell you is mind-boggling. But I’ve seen even crazier shit since then. My eyes have been opened to what’s really out there.” He pointed at Ethan. “And you sitting here—it helps me to not regret certain choices I’ve made.”
Max began the tale in a low voice. “My unit was trekking through the mountains, pinned down after a failed attempt on a regional warlord. After the operation was aborted by command, we tried to escape via the border but found our exit sealed off. We were six men surrounded by over two hundred enemy combatants and taking heavy fire. We survived until nightfall, which should have given us the advantage, but twice as many troops arrived by then. Everyone pretty much accepted we weren’t going to last through the night. Then this guy appeared out of nowhere, sent by, I dunno, a freaking angel. Apollo distracted the enemy, essentially making himself bullet bait. Somehow he carved a path through the guerillas and managed to circle back unscathed. He led us outta there and kept our unit safe until dawn when a pair of Black Hawks arrived to carry the team back to base. I’ll never forget that night. None of us will. We thought we’d never see the sun rise again. Because of Ethan, we did. If you don’t remember me specifically, then certainly you remember being out there saving our asses.”
Max scrubbed his face as if to rub away the confusion and disappointment when Ethan indicated he remembered nothing with a shake of his head. He sighed. “Then something must have happened to you out there. I thought it was odd—we all did—when you didn’t return to base with us.”
Davey frowned. “You left him behind?”
“He hardly gave us a choice. We were loading up the chopper, but Apollo said he couldn’t come with us.” He looked at Ethan. “You told us you had different orders… you weren’t supposed to be on the mountain. You were supposed to be in Pakistan. We didn’t realize it until morning, but your fatigues were full of holes, man. Bullet holes. Some were from armor piercing rounds—so even Kevlar shouldn’t have saved you—but there wasn’t a scratch on you. You refused to get on the chopper. And then as mysteriously as you appeared, you were gone. You just vanished.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, sounding utterly lost. “I’m not calling you a liar, but what you’re saying sounds pretty unbelievable.”
Max nodded. “I get it, man. If I hadn’t witnessed with my own eyes half of the shit I’ve seen since then, I would also probably think the story was too ridiculous to believe.”
Ethan clenched his jaw. “I wish I could remember.”
“What happened to you?” Max prodded. Suspicion shadowed his features.
“There was a car accident,” Ethan answered casually, but Davey could tell his nonchalance was forced. “My skull got cracked and my brains rattled around a bit.”
“Car accident huh? Well a skull fracture could certainly account for the memory loss.” Folding his arms, Max offered a humorless smile. “But that still doesn’t explain your eternal youth.” The former soldier shrugged, shaking off whatever thought had come next. “Either way, you still have our gratitude.” He started to rise from the booth, but something else stopped him. “There was one other thing, Apollo. I doubt this will help to ease your mind at all, but in light of everything, I think you should know—when we got back, the sergeant major recommended you for a medal, but the only Sergeant Adam Remington in army records was reported killed in action two decades before.”
16
If Davey thought Ethan was a man of few words before, he now retreated completely into himself as they drove through the countryside of Highway 1, but she couldn’t blame him. She imagined how freaked she would be if a person claiming to be from her past confronted her about a secret mission in a foreign land and thanked her for single-handedly saving the lives of six men. The story Max told was pretty incredible, almost too far-fetched to believe. But Davey had her own experience with Ethan’s uniqueness and was slow to doubt a single word. At least she now knew yesterday wasn’t Ethan’s first time recovering miraculously from gunshot wounds that should have killed him. She wasn’t crazy, he was different. In ways she could have never dreamed of. And maybe her bizarre attraction to him wasn’t so strange after all. Maybe it was the singularity of Ethan’s existence which drew her to him. It would definitely explain why she had felt so unbalanced around him since the first time they met…and why she had fallen into his arms so quickly in the face of tragedy.
Davey chewed her lip uncertainly and considered where Ethan’s head must be. A haunting tune played softly in the background, not helping the mood. With the nearest radio station nearly sixty miles away, there were few options in area of selection, so Davey switched it off.
“Ethan?” she called his name tentatively, already afraid of how he might respond. Whatever his answer, she would deal. Davey had been a loner for some time now. She would be fine on her own. “It’s okay if you need to handle your own shit right now. I totally understand. Just drop me off at the next town, and I’ll be fine.”
It took a long time for Ethan to reply. So long, Davey began to doubt he had heard her at all. Then slowly, he turned and looked at her. His face was as serious as she had ever seen it. “I said I was going to make things safe for you again and I meant it. I’m not leaving until it’s done.”
“But why, Ethan?” Davey needed to understand at least a part of what was going on. “Why do you want to help me? We don’t even know each other.”
Ethan hesitated. “Because I’m a cop. This is my job.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“What are you asking, Davey?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands up. “I get why this is happening to me. I made a lot of stupid choices, and now some stupid drug dealer wants me dead. But you, Ethan, you I don’t understand. I’ve always been pretty much alone in this world, and then you come out of fucking nowhere right
when I need help the most. For years, no one has been there to help me. No one.” Davey stopped and gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to cry again. “But you—you’re here and I don’t know why.”
“You need my help,” Ethan said quietly.
“You showed up before then.” Davey knew she sounded like a nagging madwoman, but she couldn’t stop herself. She’d been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe this was how she finally cracked.
Taking a breath, Ethan exhaled it long and slow. “Last year,” he began, “there was a surge in illegal narcotics being transported to the southeastern states. With the drugs came an increase in violent, brutal crimes, including beatings and homicides committed in ways I’ve never seen before. I was a member of a unit tasked to investigate the influx and identify the new players. We traced the drugs to Harpey, South Carolina, and so I was transferred here. You became someone of interest in the investigation that night you ran away from the party.”
“Okay.” Davey noticed the sudden spurt of disappointment squeezing her chest and couldn’t immediately understand why, but she also felt herself starting to relax. There was a rational explanation behind Ethan’s presence in her life. Reason she could understand. Reason she could rely on. Friends and family who swore out of emotion to be there for her had never stuck around, especially during Davey’s most troubled years. If Ethan’s desire to save her was simply because of duty and the oath he’d taken to serve and protect, then she could trust that. She would be okay and survive this nightmare.
“You’re angry.”
“No.” Davey shook her head quickly and wiped the excess moisture from her eyes. “It’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you.”
Still looking doubtful, Ethan started to comment but the rear end of the sedan pitched sideways, prompting a surprised shriek from Davey’s lips. Ethan quickly regained control even as Davey realized she’d overreacted to a flat tire. Smoothly decreasing the car’s speed, he steered onto the shoulder and parked. Meeting her eyes, he offered Davey a reassuring smile. Then his gaze drifted downward and Davey’s followed. Her hands were shaking violently. With an edgy laugh, she shoved them between her legs to ease the trembling and hide the embarrassing display of nerves.
“It’s only a flat,” he remarked needlessly.
Davey nodded. “Sorry for screaming,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush.
“It’s okay.” Ethan grinned. “I still have one good ear. I think.”
She laughed, and was shocked she could do so at this point. “You’re getting better at this joking thing.”
He winked. “Thanks.” Undoing his safety belt, he slid out of the driver’s seat. “Wait here.”
Outside, Ethan stood quietly surveying the countryside. He had yet to even inspect the damaged tire. “I can help,” Davey offered, calling to him. “My dad made sure I knew how to change a tire.”
Ethan walked away without replying. Then he suddenly reappeared at Davey’s window, startling her. She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you were some kind of ninja or something in your past life.”
He tilted his head as if actually considering her wild suggestion. “No. I don’t think so,” he said. “Wait here.”
Davey sighed. “Fine.”
She waited, fidgeting a minimal amount while he rummaged in the trunk for the spare tire, jack, and cross wench. Moments later, the car haltingly lifted away from the ground. Feeling her stomach begin to turn, Davey got out of the car but kept her distance, crouching low to the ground to watch Ethan work. She loved the look of concentration on his face and seeing his muscles flex with the effort of loosening the lug nuts. He frowned as one bolt seemed to give him a particular bit of trouble.
“Sure you don’t need an extra hand?” she teasingly asked.
Ethan glanced up at her. “Yeah. Your scrawny muscles may be just the extra nudge I need,” he said, and smiled.
When the damaged tire was freed, Ethan ran his fingers along the tread and set it aside. Frowning, he bent to inspect the underside of the wheel well. Davey stood up. For a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, she unexpectedly felt unsettled. An odd tingling sensation crawled across her skin, parading up her arms and across her back. The empty stretch of highway in either direction seemed ominous. Even the surrounding woods felt unfriendly. Anxiety propelling her forward, Davey took a step toward Ethan, and then all hell broke loose.
Ethan’s shout was a warning that would have come too late had not Davey already been in motion. Exactly where her head had been only a second before, the passenger window exploded. Glass flew in all directions. Tiny shards pelted her cheeks and hair as Davey lunged to the dirt on her hands and knees.
More bullets came from an invisible source, punching holes through the sedan’s metallic surface just above Davey’s head. Her brain wanted to shut down and freeze her limbs into inaction, but she focused on Ethan. He was yelling, calling out to her, and urging her onward. So she kept crawling until Ethan was grabbing her wrist, dragging her across the dirt, and pulling her body into his, using himself to shield her from gunfire.
“There’s a sniper.” His voice was shockingly calm. “Keep your head down,” he ordered. “And stay behind me.” Hearing him helped ground Davey to the moment, making the chaos around her somehow less frightening. She didn’t flinch as the shrill grinding of metal erupted in her ears or when the car was suddenly spun around and flipped on its side.
But as bullets began to fly from the opposite direction, Davey screamed. She covered her head and tried to stay as low as possible, but there was nowhere to go. Three armed men had risen from the neighboring field, advancing toward them with semi-automatic weapons. They were trapped.
Or so she thought.
Suddenly, Ethan flashed to his feet and fired three rounds in rapid succession. The men fell like dominos. When another gunshot cracked the abrupt silence, Ethan dropped to the dirt. Crouching next to Davey, worry creased his brow. She stared at him with wide eyes and called his name. “Ethan,” she croaked. Her mouth was dry. She tried to swallow but couldn’t make enough spit.
“Are you hurt?”
Davey shook her head.
Reaching down, Ethan pulled a second, smaller handgun from a holster at his ankle. “Take this and aim toward the field. If you see anyone coming, pull the trigger.”
Hands trembling, Davey accepted the weapon. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d killed a man—a cop—with his own sidearm.
Ethan placed a steady hand over her shaking one. Biting her lip, she met his eyes. “It’s okay if you miss,” he said. “I just need to know if someone is coming.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I need to take care of that sniper. We can’t move as long as he’s there.”
“Please be careful,” Davey whispered.
“Don’t worry.” Ethan smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Though doubtful, Davey nodded and turned her attention to the field. She took a deep breath. She could handle this. Point and shoot. Ethan only needed a warning if more danger was near. It wasn’t like the defense of their lives was truly in her hands.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ethan reach into his back pocket and retrieve his cell phone. After punching a few buttons in rapid succession, the phone’s display changed, turning dark as a sequence of ones and zeros scrolled vertically in continuous succession. The screen changed again as the numbers stopped, disappearing altogether as two green words appeared in their place.
Davey dragged her gaze back to the empty field, suppressing her curiosity for as long as she could. It was a good thing she did. It wasn’t long before someone appeared, pushing through the tall grass with the barrel of a very unfriendly looking gun pointed in their direction. Squeezing her eyes shut, Davey pulled the trigger. The muzzle flashed, and the resulting kickback threw her against the car. Nearly dropping the weapon, she accidentally fired again. She opened her eyes to see Ethan spinning halfway around and raising his own weapon
. Two shots later, the man dropped without a sound.
Davey expelled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her pulse pounded in her ears as loud as drums. She was sweating profusely. I can’t take much more of this, she thought.
Locking his grey eyes onto hers, Ethan squeezed her shoulder. “You did great,” he said.
She nodded and he went back to watching the cell phone. Davey noticed the screen had changed yet again. The view was like watching satellite feed from Google Maps zoom in on a neighborhood until the street level was reached. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that the video on screen was of the very highway they traveled and where they now huddled following the unexpected ambush.
Heart in her throat, Davey looked at the field again. It was mercifully empty. Her hands were shaking so badly that she feared she might drop the gun if forced to shoot again.
“Gotcha,” Ethan said softly. Reaching out, he pulled Davey against him and completely folded her body into his. Seconds later, an explosion rocked through the countryside, forcibly shifting them backward in the wake of the blast. Only the security of Ethan’s hold kept her from falling apart, because within his arms, she knew nothing could touch her.
Ethan shifted, lifting his weight, but kept one hand firmly pressed into Davey’s back. She took it as his signal to stay down. At last, the pressure he exerted eased. “We’re clear,” he said.
Davey slowly lifted her head. The adrenaline flooding her system was rapidly bleeding off, leaving her body drained and her mind numb. Ethan’s next words whipped her focus back to the moment.
“We have to move, Davey. It’s not safe here.”
As she started to get up, Ethan lifted her to her feet. He took the small pistol from her quivering hands and tucked it into the waist of his jeans. She followed him across the roadway, mimicking his quick stride and the way he turned his shoulders sideways as he moved. Reaching the field, Ethan hovered near the first dead guy, ushering Davey forward as he stopped. Seemingly satisfied no other shooters were in sight, he knelt next to the body. After detangling the larger gun from the corpse, he slung the weapon across his back via a long canvas strap. A quick search produced another gun that Ethan checked and passed to Davey. “There’s no safety,” he said. “Be careful.”
