Page 8 of Mountain Protector

I fixed up the farmhouse, even better than it had been when Tom lived here. I started my own business, which has turned out to be more successful than I ever anticipated. I found friends—some of them even former military, like me. And I discovered I enjoy small-town, rural life even more than I did when I was growing up here. Back then, I thought it was stifling. Now I find comfort in it.

Then the newest and most exciting thing. The Green Mountain Guardians. As a part of the private security team formed by my Army buddy, Enzo, it gives me back the last piece I was missing. Now I’m part of a team again. I have a reason to keep up my skills. And through our pro-bono work, it allows me to make a difference.

If I had to use a word to describe my life right now, I’d say I’m content.

Do I wonder if there’s still more out there for me? A girlfriend? A wife? A family?

Sometimes.

Then again, I have so much going on already. Do I really have the time or emotional energy to give to awoman? Would it be fair to burden her with my sleepless nights and the guilt I still carry from those last months in the Army?

More importantly, is there even one out there I’d consider opening up to?

Maybe. If my intriguing and beautiful neighbor, Lark, was interested, I might. But she’s never given me a sign she wants anything more than friendship.

“Hey, Knox. You awake over there?”

Gage’s voice comes over my headset, jolting me from my wandering thoughts. I blink at the monitor, realizing I’m stalled halfway across the zone while my mount flaps idly, waiting for me. Gage’s character is a tiny dot in the distance, and I watch as he reverses course to head back toward me.

“Sorry,” I reply, shaking my head even though he can’t see. “My mind drifted for a second.”

His laughing tone sobers immediately. “Everything okay?” Because Gage is former Army and knows how powerful and sticky memories can be. Considering we’re both up past midnight playing an online video game instead of sleeping, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that my nightmare from earlier is still affecting me.

Not this time, though. Fortunately. “I’m good,” I reassure him. “Really.”

“Alright.” There’s still a hint of skepticism in his voice. “But you know… if you ever want to talk instead of playing WoW… I’m here.”

“I know. And right back at you.” After a beat, I readjust my headset and add with a smile, “But seriously, I’m fine. Good to go.”

“Good.” Gage’s mount performs an acrobatic flip in the air before speeding off across the virtual countryside. “Let’s do this.”

As I command my mount to follow him, he says, “So I’ve been thinking about the quest. For the final boss, if you stun him as soon as we get into his room, I can throw all my debuffs at him before he gets a shot off. Then we can take turns rooting and stunning while the other blows through our spells.”

Leaning back in my computer chair, I grab my bottle of water and take a sip before replying, “That sounds good. I just upgraded my root spell, so it should last at least five seconds.”

“Nice.” Gage pauses. “I’ve been thinking about asking my buddy, Webb, to join us some nights. If that’s okay with you? You remember him, right?”

“Of course.” Webb was a Night Stalker, just like Gage, and they were both based at Fort Campbell at the same time I was there. “I like Webb. He’s welcome to join anytime.”

“Great. I’ll let him know.” After a beat, he adds, “He’s been having a rough time lately. Some old memories coming to the surface again. I was talking to him the other day and mentioned that we play online sometimes when it’s too hard to sleep. He thought it sounded like a good idea.”

On the screen, a dungeon looms in front of me, with a trio of orcs in studded armor standing guard in front of it. Changing topics, I say, “Do you want to take the right, I’ll take left, and I can root the center?”

“Sure. Land by the tree so we can buff before attacking?”

“Affirmative.” A tingle of anticipation moves in my belly. Not exactly a real battle, or even close, but my body can’t help reacting. “Once we take them out, we can invis up?—”

A sharp sound interrupts me.

A crack.

Not overly loud, but like it’s coming from a distance.

Like it’s coming from somewhere outside.

While someone who hasn’t spent the last twenty years in the Army might think it’s a tree branch breaking from the weight of the snow, I know differently.

That was a gunshot. I’m certain of it.

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