Page 18

18. Wrecking Crew

Rome Aalders

When we stopped for lunch the first full day of hiking, I asked Kerry if his team had ever trained together as a fighting unit. I wasn’t trying to steal his limelight, especially not in front of his friends on their first mission, but I could think of any number of scenarios that could happen during this wilderness trek. It would be best if they were prepared for a fight.

As we ate, Jax told me about their adventures to date, starting back in October with a harpy and her gremlin horde. He described the battle with the Hellhounds, and I nodded. That was the attack I would have planned, too.

“Kerry wants to have us all practice together, but we haven’t had a chance to establish anything yet,” Jax said.

“It’s mainly me,” Kerry admitted. “I don’t know much about working with a team. Too used to being my own wrecking crew.”

I wasn’t keen on spending one-on-one time with him, but we sat down together that first evening and talked about the others’ roles. How it was important to recognize everyone played a part and how knowing everyone’s full abilities could be the difference between life and death.

When I asked him where his primary weapon was, he manifested a Japanese-style sword.

“You don’t carry a real one?”

“Nah. ’S easier to make one. No one gets curious about a big stick poking up over your shoulder.”

That was why I carried a pair of short swords on my back. Under a coat or jacket, they were all but invisible to human eyes.

“But doesn’t it drain you to maintain it while you’re fighting?” I raised my eyebrows when he only gave me a blank look. “You do get drained, right?”

“Can’t say I’ve hit the bottom of the tank yet. Seen other people drained, though. Don’t think I wanna know how that feels.”

I blinked. Clem had said this kid was a beast unlike any he’d ever known. I have to admit that I was intrigued, but also skeptical. Until I found out what Kerry Harker was like for myself, I’d reserve judgment.

“What if you’re in combat with a creature that can shut your power down?” I asked. “You don’t have a back-up?”

For answer, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife.

“Got this.” He passed it over to me. “Be careful opening it.”

It was no kid’s pocket knife for carving sticks and prying open lids. The partially serrated blade was about four inches long and as black as the handle except for the silver edge. I had no doubt it was razor sharp. I liked the weight of it in my hand and the balance was exceptional.

“Very nice.” I closed it and gave it back. “I may need to pick one of those up.”

“If you ever go to New York City, I can give you the name of a neph who can build you anything you want.”

“How much do knives like that sell for?” Gemma asked.

“Five hundred for the knife and a grand to add concealment. It’s not the right weapon for you, angel, so don’t worry about it.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but John spoke first.

“Question. Why do most warriors use knives and swords? Why not guns?”

“Guns don’t always work,” Kerry and I said at the same time, then looked at each other.

I waved one hand to let him know he could explain it, but he shook his head.

“A gun can’t kill everything Diabolical,” I explained. “To even do damage, you have to hit it under its armor, usually in the stomach area. Plus, guns are hard to get past police, and they’re noisy. Humans can sometimes hear them firing, even ones made from pure power.”

When I said that, Kerry manifested a nine millimeter in one hand and bullets in the other. He loaded the gun with an efficiency that told me he had a lot of experience doing so.

“Also, if you run out of ammo,” I continued with one eye on the gun, “you need to manifest bullets, which takes power, too. After a while, you’ve sunk more power into keeping the gun and making bullets that may or may not kill what you’re fighting than if you would have simply drawn your sword and cut off its head.”

“I don’t like guns.” Gemma stared at the one in Kerry’s hand with wide eyes.

“So that’s the real reason.” John’s face stayed as deadpan as his voice. “Warriors around the world avoid guns because Gemma Shepherd doesn’t like them.”

She whacked him on the shoulder, and he cut his eyes down at her with a small smile. Kerry watched them as he dissolved the weapon and ammo, but didn’t contribute to their humor. He didn’t strike me as the kind to joke around, and I got the feeling he didn’t play.

He was, to my surprise, receptive to learn anything I cared to teach him. I’d thought he would be arrogant and have an ‘I’ve seen it all and done it all’ attitude, but he always thanked me and asked if I could teach him more. Most of the time, I had to work hard to hide my surprise.

“You know, Rome,” Chance said as we sat around the campfire the second night, “he’s not a bad guy. As long as Spin doesn’t get too close to Gemma. And as long as no one gets too close to him. The first issue is entirely Spin’s fault. The second makes sense, I guess, for someone who wasn’t in control of his own body for a decade.”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything. In his introduction, Jax had explained no one was to touch Kerry. Not anywhere and not for any reason. Spin had started to joke around, asking if he should let Kerry die rather than touch him if that was the situation, and Jax had looked him dead in the eye and said yes.

“Kerry’s my best friend, and he still nearly fried me when I slipped up.” Jax wore a sheepish grin.

“If John wasn’t such a fast thinker, you’d be dead.” Gigi’s narrowed eyes made it plain she still hadn’t forgiven him for the incident. Then she looked at me. “It’s a conditioned response he’s working hard to correct. He hasn’t made too much progress yet, but he’s only been free … what? Six months? It’s a drive that’s going to take a long time to reverse.”

“He’ll get better as he learns to trust us more,” Jax predicted. “Trust is the key with him.”

I’d glanced over to where Kerry stood with the redhead in his arms. He definitely trusted her , from the look of things.

“It’s different with Gemma,” said Tara, the naturalist of the group. “One night, he caught the scent of a harpy and took off after it. After we caught up, Gemma touched his arm and he didn’t attack her. If it had been any of us, they’d still be looking for all our bits and pieces.”

I shrugged because that only made sense.

“He smells her.” At their blank faces, I’d elaborated. “A warrior’s sense of smell is like a dog’s. Each person has their own unique scent. And I’m not talking about your deodorant or perfume or BO. I mean you . What makes you you is like a fingerprint to us.”

“So, like, you can smell our soul?” The biblio, Travis, had squeaked, then edged back when I gave him my attention.

“I guess you could think of it that way.”

Which was why I struggled so much with the taint stench that rolled off Harker.

I wanted to whip up my blades and scissor his head off ten times a day, and fighting that instinct made me testy. Of course, Spin noticed I wasn’t my usual charming self and hassled me constantly, which did not help the situation.

Chance and Kerry’s team, however, tried to help. Travis avoided me until I told him Kerry was right and only a trace of his taint remained. Jax, John, and Gigi ran interference when things got tense, and Tara and Maddy distracted Spin with a thousand questions. I appreciated their efforts and was surprised that no one, not even Kerry, held it against me - except for Gemma Shepherd.

On the fourth morning of hiking, that tiny spitfire came right up to me and demanded to know why I hated Kerry so much. The top of her hair barely reached my pecs and I was literally three times her weight, but she put her hands on her hips, jutted her chin up, and flayed me with her green eyes. I nearly cracked a smile, but she was brave and loyal and I couldn’t disrespect that.

“I don’t hate him.” I shrugged one shoulder.

Kerry came over and looped an arm around her waist.

“I told you, angel, it’s hard for him because I stink like demon.”

“ I don’t smell anything.” She wrinkled her nose up.

“Because you’re not a warrior, dummy.”

“Well, I don’t care what he thinks he smells.” She glared at me, and my lips twitched again. “He doesn’t have to be so irritable with you!”

She isn’t getting it. Let’s try a scenario she can relate to.

“Gemma, if someone is badly injured and you know you can heal them, but you’re not allowed to, would you be frustrated? Angry? Impatient?”

“Of course.”

“Now imagine you have to see that person every day. He’s still hurt, and you still aren’t allowed to heal him. It goes against your nature and preys on your mind, but you can’t change the situation. All you can do is deal with it as best you can.”

She narrowed her eyes at me like she understood, but didn’t like it. I shrugged, not knowing what to do with that.

“So there.” Kerry grinned at me over her head. “Now leave the man alone, Short and Sweet.”

Then he picked her like she was a child and swung her around in a circle.

“ Kerryyyyyyyyy! ”

Shaking my head, I went back to repacking my tent.

#

As the days passed, I came to understand what my combat professor meant when she extolled the merits of teaching. It was rewarding, and going through the basics with Kerry helped me reconsider my own techniques. I’d have to remember to tell her that when I returned to class.

Whenever that would be.

We were on day seven of our hike and I was beginning to think our gambit had failed. Nothing Diabolical had attacked us, no one had picked up any hint of hunters or trackers, and we hadn’t heard from Clem at all, although I had to admit cell reception was spotty up in the West Virginia mountains. When our group stopped for a rest, Kerry and I moved up the trail a little and debated whether to descend into the next town for a better signal.

Jax joined us before we made a decision.

“In case it makes a difference, I want a shower,” he said, “and most of us are worn out. Travis especially isn’t used to carrying so much gear for so long. Plus, our food supply is getting low―”

“We’ll take a break,” Kerry declared with a speed that made me grin. “I don’t wanna risk running out.”

Just as we turned back to join the others, the wind shifted and a foreboding smell hit my nose. My eyes met Kerry’s.

“What is it?” Jax picked up on our alertness.

“Human,” Kerry and I spoke in unison and I added, “Wait here.”

“You didn’t say anything about why we smell him.” Kerry glanced at me after we’d run a few hundred yards.

“They don’t need to know he’s dead yet. No need to upset them until we see what the situation is. Lots of accidents can happen while hiking in these mountains.”

“You don’t need to worry about upsetting me .” He snorted derisively. “I’m sure you can smell the Diabolical on this just as well as I can. It’s as strong as a skunk.”

We started jogging at the same time. Following our noses, we headed up the trail for another hundred feet, then veered off it into the winter-bare undergrowth.

“Yes,” I admitted at last. “Still, like I said, no need to panic the others. In this, they’re innocent. Even Spin and Chance. We haven’t had to deal with dead humans before. Well, a zombie once, but she’d been a nephilim, not a human.”

A spike of guilt pierced my heart as I thought of Zoe and I quickly pushed it aside. I was getting really good at that, shoving down memories I didn’t want to deal with. I knew someday they’d come collecting, but as long as it wasn’t today, I’d take it.

“I seen a few,” he muttered.

“My warden warned me the first time would be rough.”

“Sometimes, they look like they’re sleeping. Depends on what killed them. On how tore up they are.”

I glanced over at the kid.

Ope! I should have kept my mouth shut!

His skin was taking on a blue tint and his eyes were brutal. He didn’t answer, and we pushed on through the crackling brown brush for another few yards until we found the body.