Page 20 of Dark Medicine

“Yea, I’m satisfied. And that’s a wicked fucking cool gift, Spook. Don’t be ashamed of it,” said Flip. Spook smiled over his shoulder at his friend.

They met while deployed in a place no one wanted to be or ever wanted to return to. Flip and his teammates were under heavy fire, and Flip was doing everything literally within his power to keep the insurgents from pressing forward, but he was running out of time and out of objects to move or throw.

Spook, in his comms tent at base, isolated his signal, and within minutes, air support arrived at the exact location. Two men died, but a dozen more were safe because of Spook and Flip. Flip didn’t know about Spook’s gift at the time, but when he met him the following day, he knew something was different.

“Cho! Flip! Dude, come here,” said his captain.

“Yea, Cap.”

“Dude, this is Spook. He’s the comms guy who pulled our asses out yesterday,” he said, standing next to a tall, lanky auburn-haired kid.

“Thanks, man,” said Flip, extending his hand.

When he shook hands with Spook, there was something different about the man, something that made his chest tight. It wasn’t a bad feeling or a feeling with any sexual undertones. It was something else. Flip pulled his hand back, and Spook looked down at his feet.

“You’re welcome. Gotta go. Another team is in trouble,” he said, turning and running toward the comms tent.

“How the fuck did he know that?” asked Flip.

“Dude is voodoo magic, man, and I don’t question it out here,” said the captain. Flip watched the young man run toward the comms tent and wondered if maybe he wasn’t voodoo magic as well.

He remembered that first encounter as if it were yesterday. Spook looked frightened when they shook hands, and then as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared. When Flip saw him a few months later, he looked tired and worn. Dark circles encircled his blue eyes, and he looked thin. It would be five more years before he saw him again, and this time, it was with the others who had crossed his path.

Kane, Adam, and Spook all knew his secret, and none had ever told anyone. These were brothers you could count on, and it seemed to Flip that they may need to count on one another now more than ever.

Kane held up a fist and crouched on the trail, pointing to the scattered trailers and tents below them in a small valley. There were at least a dozen people and a few small children.

“They may recognize me,” said Adam. “I was with Fiona when they tried to take her the first time.”

“Flip? You and I will go in first. Spook, you keep your ears on the comms. Anything starts to blow up, do your thing.”

Kane placed a small device in his ear and tapped, and the others nodded. Walking casually down the trail, he and Flip laughed like good friends might do on a hike. The busy camp stopped, people moving slowly toward trailers and tents but not going inside.

Kane stepped to the bottom of the trail and waved.

“Good morning!” he said casually.

“Mornin’,” said the rough, gravelly voice of a man standing near him. “This is a private camp. Strangers aren’t welcome.”

“We don’t mean any harm,” said Kane, smiling. “We’ll be leaving as soon as you tell me where Roman and George are.”

The man eyed Kane up and down and looked over his shoulder at the massive mountain of a man behind him. Flip stood stock still, his eyes traveling the entire camp.

“No one here by those names,” said the older man.

“Now, see, that’s where I know you’re not telling the truth,” said Kane, taking a step closer.

“You calling me a liar, boyo?” said the man.

“I believe that’s exactly what I’m doing,” said Kane, smiling down at the old man. Kane spotted a long blade in the man’s belt and grinned. “I hope you’re not thinking of pulling that beautiful knife on me. I’d hate to have to take that from you.”

The old man looked up at the bigger man and contemplated his next move. He was twice his size and at least thirty years younger, but his skills with a knife were widely respected among his people. He could take this young pup. Besides, he had an entire camp behind him. He reached for the knife, but before he could even pull it from the case, Kane grasped his wrist and twisted.

The old man screamed in pain as bones cracked and his wrist bent at an odd angle. Kane gripped the blade and spun the old man around, the blade grazing his throat. The bile rose in his own throat at the evil and disgusting thoughts of the old man.

“Now, I warned you. Don’t say I didn’t. Let’s try this once again. Where are Roman and George?”

The entire camp watched as Kane held the old man, the blade drawing a fine line of blood along his throat. Kane’s stomach lurched at the evil coming off the old man. He looked at the faces staring back at him and knew it in his soul. This old man was a polygamist. Young girls were staring at Kane, not in horror but in hope.

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