Page 11 of Coming Home

I threw my head back and laughed. “Open it.”

He did without question and his eyes widened. “You’ve been weighting it?”

“Fifty more pounds each trip up,” I admitted.

“But how?” he asked, looking at me.

I grinned. “I have my ways. I’m not so different from you, Jake.”

He looked skeptical but didn’t comment. Did this kid really think I didn’t know who or at least what he was? I tried to see it from his eyes. I was in a damn chair, of course he didn’t see me like that. He’d know a shifter would have recovered by now. There were very few things in this world that truly injured our kind.

With Jake’s speed I’d originally thought he was some sort of cat, but they didn’t often carry the same level of endurance this kid had. I was excited to find out just what kind of shifter he was. I couldn’t just come out and ask. As shifters, we were all a little skittish. It took a broken or twisted one to join the military in the first place. I think we all went out for spec ops knowing we were superior in many beneficial ways to humans.

I still remembered when I first got notice of my team. In some ways it’s even scary because in a team that small and tight there were no secrets. I knew Jake must be going through all of those emotions now, but I wasn’t going to call him out on it.

I’d been taken in by Crawley. He was just a tech guy at the time, and over the last nine years had worked his way up to leader. He was a damn good leader, too. He’d taken me under his wing on day one. I knew in hindsight all his talk about “don’t worry, things are going to be okay, you’ll find we’re all the same here, no matter what,” and other shit he spouted was supposed to have prepared me in some way for the bomb they were about to drop when we finally met up with the squad.

We had a very unique introduction for new members. Instead of just letting them know we understood their exceptional situations, and were all shifters too, we blindsided them. No one speaks aloud about that fact, ever. We might talk around it, but the word “shifter” is tacitly forbidden.

So when we blindside a new recruit, we pull him in and make him stand in the middle as we surround him, then we all flash shift on the spot, shredded clothes and everything. It’s a shock before the instant relief sets in and you find out you really aren’t alone and this path you chose really is the right one and everything is going to be okay.

Jake was scared, I could tell, and rightly he should be. We all were when we sat in his shoes.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Jake. We’re all in this together and we understand, your, um, unique situation far better than you think,” I said.

His eyes went wide with surprise and questions. I couldn’t say anything more than that.

“Go pack. We’re flying out to meet with our unit tonight.”

“Can I ask what unit?”

I grinned. “We’ll talk on the plane.”

I was expecting Bulldog to pick us up, but it was a human pilot giving us a lift. As soon as we were in the air, Jake turned to me and started asking questions. I shook my head and shifted my eyes towards the pilot. I hoped he understood I wasn’t blowing him off, we just weren’t safe to talk freely.

It was only an hour flight before the plane touched down. The guys weren’t there to greet us. I already knew they had been given a last second mission and I hated not knowing where they were or if they were okay. Jake seemed to sense my apprehension and kept his mouth shut.

I led the way to our hidden home base. The guys definitely knew I was coming at least, because there were newly laid wooden planks down across any areas they thought my chair may struggle to cross. They were camouflaged with the local terrain as best as they could, but I immediately noticed.

Jake kept looking around, taking it all in.

“Are we free to talk here?” he whispered.

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, you’re good. The guys are out on mission. Hopefully they’ll be back tonight. About damn time they sent me home.”

I parked my wheelchair in a corner and stood up to stretch. God, it felt good. I’d only risked it in the shower a few times while stuck on medical.

“Um? You can stand?” Jake said. He looked a little freaked out, like he’d just seen a ghost. How appropriate, I thought.

“Relax, Jake. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you using a wheelchair?”

“I was shot, dude. In the spine of all places, that’s not something I’m supposed to heal from so quickly.”

“But you did,” he added.

“Yeah, but I’d turn into an experimental pincushion if they knew that. We all have unique gifts here, Jake. We survive by flying under the radar. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”