Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

Diego kept low to the ground, but he was fast, running through the brush to a spectacular flowering shrub that was a good ten feet high and fifteen feet wide. It had low, sweeping branches, riddled with leaves and clusters of brilliant flaming-red flowers. The flame azalea was part of the rhododendron family, and when the brothers had first seen it, the shrub and been small.

Luther had planted that shrub for Lotty so she could wake up every morning and look out her window and see the flowers growing heavy on the branches. She always called it one of her greatest joys. He still carefully maintained it, snipping the dead flowers off so new ones could grow. His care could be seen in the health and size of the plant.

Diego utilized the sweeping branches, sliding under them and changing his coloring to reflect the plant. Immediately, he slid his weapon into his hand, the familiar stock feeling a part of him. His sense of smell was uninterrupted, as the five-inch funnel-shaped clusters of flaming flowers gave off no fragrance. There was little wind to give him much in the way of information. Still, he took his time inspecting the ground around the Gunthrie cabin.

Someone had tried to erase the tracks around the house, but they weren’t up to Luther’s expertise or his. He could see crushed grass in places and a bruised leaf here and there. He checked the roof and the sides of the building. Luther kept the branches of the trees cut back so there was no chance of one falling on his home. He’d always said he liked the sound of the rain falling on the metal. More than likely, he liked it because Lotty had liked it.

Another few minutes and the sentry should pass, Diego informed Rubin.

Let him go for now. We’ll get him later.

Rubin worried him. His brother was the gentlest man he knew, but there was this side to him few ever saw. He could become a merciless hunter when the occasion called for it. He would strike without warning and leave bodies without ever looking back. When he did, Diego could never detect a stirring of remorse or afterthought. The Rubin he knew wasn’t that man. He was unfailingly kind and giving. He was the man who would put himself in dangerous situations over and over to save others. But when this predator slipped loose, he was as cold as ice and no enemy was safe. Diego often wondered if Whitney knew what he was enhancing when he had gotten ahold of the two of them.

Diego laid his hand on the ground and felt the strange stillness. As a rule, the leaves and grasses would be teeming with life, insects and lizards would be rushing around carrying on with their normal routines. A heavy footfall, the crush of boots coming down on brush, snapping twigs, quieting the drone of bugs for just a moment was another warning the sentry was close. Diego didn’t move, blending with the flame azalea, that declaration of love Luther Gunthrie had planted for his wife. The low-hanging branches wept over him, caging him in, a heavy curtain of leaves and clusters of flowers that meant nothing to this soldier who would kill Lotty’s husband.

We’ll find him, Rubin assured, reading his need for action.

Diego had wanted to spring out of the azalea shrub and cut the soldier’s throat. He wasn’t nearly as gentle as Rubin. He had more of a temper until Rubin actually got angry.

Just the idea that they’re hunting that old man like this, so many of them, Rubin, makes me want to rip their heads off.

We’ll get them. Rubin was calm. Steady.

Diego remembered how it was when they were boys. It didn’t matter what happened. How bad it was. What they had to do. Rubin did it. He faced it with that same calmness and he did it. He hunted, with absolute determination, the animals who had killed their sister. Diego had known he would never stop until he had gotten all four of them. He knew then, like he knew now, that these men who may have killed Luther Gunthrie were already dead. They didn’t know it, but Rubin was going to find them and he was going to make certain they didn’t go after any other old men who were just minding their own business in their homes.

Yeah, we will, Diego agreed.

There was silence while they both waited for the sentry to make his rounds. The guard might not be a woodsman, but he was thorough. He checked the cabin and all around it. He opened the door and peered in. He did try to be careful of brushing up against the plants near the house and cursed under his breath when he backed into the bottlebrush in full bloom, knocking a multitude of the bright spikes to the ground. He stood there a moment, looking down at the damage, and then shook his head and crouched low to sweep them up with his hand.