Page 24 of Shadow Blind

Benioko again. Who the hell was this dude?

Wolf shook his helmeted head. Slowly he turned, as though surveying the carnage. “No. The Old One described something much different. Although, perhaps, what happened here is related. He says Aiden is the key to defeating this new enemy.”

“Enemy?” Aiden sat up straighter. “Did he see who was behind this attack? Who infected the locals and my men?”

“You keep saying infected,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted. A dry voice with sharp undertones. “Not a word I’m fond of. What kind of infection? How does it spread?”

Aiden cocked his head, taking an immediate dislike to the lip flapper. The dude was decked out in the same tactical gear as the others, but his skin tone was more ruddy than terra cotta, like Wolf and his Kalikoia warriors. Plus, the dude had the strangest eyes—metallic green, not brown or black, like the rest of his brother’s crew. This dude didn’t look Native American at all, which was odd. Kait said that most of Shadow Mountain’s personnel and all of Wolf’s warriors were of Kalikoia descent. Well… except for Mac, Cos, Rawls, and Zane—ST7’s former leadership—who’d joined the base a couple years back.

“Unclear,” Aiden drawled, not bothering to hide his instinctive dislike of the dude. The bastard hadn’t said or done a damn thing to elicit this immediate animosity. So, why was he having so much trouble leashing his hostility?

Probably just fallout from this shithole day.

“Which answer is unclear to you?” the asshole asked, his voice sharpening. The metallic green eyes narrowed and…glittered?

“Both,” Aiden drawled.

“Great,” the asshole said. This time, his tone was downright condemning. “Let’s revisit. Something lethal affected the people of Karaveht and your team, turning them into psychotic, violent monsters. But you don’t know what caused their reaction or how it spread.”

“That sums it up.” To piss the bastard off, Aiden offered an exaggerated shrug.

“Which means we could be infected now, too. Isn’t that just peachy?”

Wolf turned toward the sharp-tongued bastard. “Taounaha would not have sent us if danger still lingered here.”

Even from where he sat, at least fifteen feet away, Aiden could see the hardness stamped across his brother’s cheeks and chin. And there was more steel than calm in Wolf’s normally neutral voice.

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t know about that, as the Shadow Warrior doesn’t favor me with his visions.” The sharp tone swerved into sarcasm.

Wolf stiffened. A stare-down began. The disagreeable dude set his shoulders and boots. What he didn’t do was back down. The balls on that guy. Not to mention an obvious chip on his shoulder.

“Pay O’Neill no mind,” Rawls said, dropping to his knees beside Aiden’s bloody thigh. “He’s an ass. Dude could start a fight in an empty house,” he added, his voice wry.

So, the guy’s name was O’Neill. Aiden studied the dude. Wolf obviously had issues with him, so why was he on the payroll?

“Let’s see where that blood’s comin’ from.” Rawls shrugged out of his attack pack, untied it, and pulled out a bulging red and white canvas bag.

Aiden glanced at Benny’s open med kit, which was sitting within touching distance. Field medics were all alike, whether with USSOCOM or Shadow Mountain. No med kit was as good as the ones they packed themselves.

“Just cut my wrists free without touching me.” Aiden lifted and extended his hands. “I’ll treat the wound myself.”

Rawls hesitated, his fingers resting on the zipper to his med kit. “I ain’t gettin’ loco vibes from you.”

“Thing is, we can’t chance that I’m not infected. I touched some locals down there. Just like my crew. Everyone…absolutely everyone else went insane. Why haven’t I? No, I don’t have any of my crew’s symptoms, but that doesn’t mean I escaped it. Hell, I could be infected, just asymptomatic. Or the agent—whatever the hell it is—could be taking its time with me.”

“Squirrel and the boys had symptoms?” Rawls brow furrowed as he unholstered his blade and sliced through Aiden’s wrist and ankle bindings. “What kind?”

“Twitching mostly—around the face and fingers. Bloodshot eyes.” Aiden leaned over and picked up the scissors Kait had dropped when Cosky grabbed her. “Benny said his symptoms started with a tingle in his mind.”

“You havin’ any of those?” Rawls asked as he sheathed his knife and returned it to his tool belt.

“Not yet.” Aiden leaned over his thigh, carefully cutting through his tactical pants and thermals. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“How long since your squad succumbed to this insanity?” Rawls settled back on his haunches. His gaze narrowed on Aiden’s thigh as the bloody bandage came into view.

Aiden glanced at his watch, then peeled the soggy dressing from his leg. “Three-and-a-half hours, give or take.”

Rawls digested that in silence before nodding toward the blood streaming down Aiden’s leg. “How bad?”.

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