As we creepour way through the expanse of this woodland, Icer’s freaky as hell words have me scanning for ghosts everywhere we walk. I’m not sure where my stance is when it comes to the afterlife. I’m conflicted when it comes to the subject, but our souls have to go somewhere after we leave this world full of pain and misery. For all I know, spirits are restless and roam about until their unresolved issues have been rectified.
Icer doesn’t look phased which has me feeling like a bitch. I guess the possibility of those lost long ago doesn’t mess with his head the way it does mine. Personally, I don’t care for the idea that someone is watching every move I make and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
You can’t fight what you can’t see.
“Shit,” I hiss beneath my breath. Spirits or no spirits, I need to get my head in the game instead of living in la-la land.
“Snap out of it, you know Icer gets his kicks by getting in our heads,” Indiana murmurs.
“Yeah, I know. But this could be true, Indiana,” I argue.
“True or not, it doesn’t deter from what we’re doing here, LoneStar,” he conveys. “We can’t let anything come between us and eliminating the threat to our family.”
That echoes through my head. It’s not just Britton and me that’s at risk here, it’s the entire Kings family. “You’re right. I don’t know what’s going on with me lately, but I get stuck on one thing and can’t shake it off.”
“Welcome to life as a taken man and impending fatherhood,” he chuckles. “Get ready and strap on your gear, because it’s a long, winding road full of bumps and potholes.”
“That’s not a shiny review, Indiana,” I remark.
“No, it’s a realistic one, brother,” he injects with a smirk on his lips. “But life wouldn’t be fun if we could anticipate what comes next.”
“Isn’t that the truth? However, I’m not a fan of secrets and surprises.”
“You don’t say,” he drawls. “I would’ve never guessed.”
“Smartass,” I grumble.
“Would you shut the fuck up?” Riptide sneers, giving us the evil-eye. “Wild elephants couldn’t be any louder than you two are.”
I didn’t think we were being loud considering we were whispering. But if he’s calling us out, we must’ve been more vocal than either of us realized. Since he wants our lips sealedshut, we nod our heads letting him know we hear him and are going to comply.
Rip gives us another scathing look before heading back to the lead position. There’s a lot of land to cover, but we don’t want to scatter and go our own way since we have no clue what type of entrapments he may have set. It’s safer if we stick together that way we can assist or go for help if this fucker gets the jump on us. Since we came without phones, like we do every time we track an enemy so nobody can GPS our asses, it could take hours for one of us to be found if one of us were injured, so it’s a safer bet if we do this as a unit.
That’s not a risk any of us are willing to take. We live together and die together—that’s brotherhood at its finest. No man stands alone against a common enemy. Icer and Shade crouch, studying the ground as they examine the impressions in the earth. Hopefully, the tracks will lead us straight to where our perpetrator has placed his lookout.
Icer points north, which makes sense since that’s the way we’d go if we were heading home, and without questioning him, we begin walking in that direction. Those two are the best trackers I’ve ever come across. They’ve never steered us wrong, they’ve proven themselves time and time again. Needless to say, without pun intended, I’d follow them any day of the week, especially those that end with a Y.
With our guns drawn and our goggles in place, we stealthily follow their footpath, literally stepping where they have as we stay alert. My adrenaline is pumping the closer we get to where our land bumps up to this one. The only thing separating our homestead from this one is a gravel road.
The wildlife scatters around us but we don’t know if that’s due to our arrival or because that fucking professor has burrowed himself in his hidey-hole. I’m praying it’s the latter because I’d like to get rid of this stalking piece of shit sooner rather than later.
Icer’s head shoots up which has us all doing the same and that’s when we see a makeshift platform built around the trunk with a rope ladder attached to the base of the deck. Shade places his finger over his lips and makes the call sign of one person. How the fuck they know he’s here when none of the rest of us can tell is intriguing. As I stare longer, I notice a quick movement of light, if I were to guess, it comes from a flashlight because it’s not a constant, stationary glow. You’d have to be really paying attention to catch it because from outside appearances, he’s got it muted by some type of cloth covering, like one would a lampshade to dim the room—it’s the only thing I can conclude.
Icer motions for us to stay where we are as he climbs the rope like we used to in gym class, Shade close behind him. I worry about my brothers because the structure is poorly built and looks like it could collapse at any given moment. Gritting my teeth, I keep a close eye on both of them as they near the plywood being used for the base of the flooring.
“It’s not going to hold their weight,” Indiana says.
“I had the same thought, brother. If they step onto it, the whole thing is going down and it will take them with it.”
Quiet as a mouse, we circle around the tree, watching for the signs of it cracking. I have to bite my tongue from screaming out when Shade grabs Icer by the ankles to steady him as Icer reaches up and pushes up, causing it to wobble. As if in slowmotion, I watch it tilt sideways and crumble as it falls in the opposite direction of where we’re gathered.
Indiana, unable to help himself, cups his hands over his mouth and hollers, “Timber!”
Professor Stratton goes rolling down the small slope as the platform hits the ground and we slowly follow his path. “I bet that hurt,” Renegade says, smarting off.
“Couldn’t have felt good,” I insert, cracking a mirthsome smile—this is where the real fun begins.
Riptide moves in as close to Mr. Stratton as he can but keeps far enough back to give himself room to strike, then drives a kick into his ribs. The jackass lets out a moan from the force of the blow. Riptide didn’t hold back, and from the sound of it, we all heard at least one rib crack.
