Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)
There was something off. A note in her voice that told him most of what she said was the truth. Most. Not all. “These people following you, do you think you could have stayed ahead of them for another year?”
“I was moving, making my way here. They had a trail to follow. I would have lost them and then found a place, very remote, where I could have lived off the land until next year. I do think they’ll come here, though, Rubin. It’s probably best if you get back to your team. I can wait here and then lead them away.”
There it was again. That note of pure confidence.
“Why would you want to do that? It doesn’t make any sense, Jonquille. Sooner or later they’ll catch up to you. I’m a complete stranger. Why sacrifice yourself for me?”
They had arrived at the original spring they’d used. The land had changed over the years, and the little creek had shifted. It was now merged with the stream. Since the last time he’d been up there to see it, the creek had widened, climbing out of the original margins to expand by another six inches on either side. It had deepened as well. The water was clear, rushing over rocks in places and then leaves and debris were trapped, spinning in a wild frenzy in a pool at the bottom of a series of rocks.
Jonquille found a flat boulder to sit on. Clouds shifted across the stars and moon, one moment covering them and the next allowing them to shine. “How long do you think a person can realistically live alone, Rubin?” She dipped her fingers into the stream. “I can’t do this forever. I’m not going back to Whitney and I’m sure as hell not going to help a foreign government or a terrorist cell or whoever those men represent.”
Rubin remained silent, listening to the sounds of the night. There was peace there, just like in the swamp. He often went into the swamp just to hear the sounds of the insects and night creatures, so he could feel this same kind of solace. “Often, even when surrounded by others, one can be intensely lonely, Jonquille.”
Her feathery lashes lifted quickly, her gaze colliding with his. “How could someone like you possibly be lonely, Rubin?”
He found another flat rock a few feet from her. “Diego and I were lucky when we hit Detroit. Ezekiel Fortunes found us. He was a kid a little older than we were, and he knew the streets. He had two younger brothers he took care of. He made us go to school, and we all worked together to stay safe and eat. We pooled money and eventually joined the Air Force. We just followed Zeke wherever he went. He believed in education and insisted we keep learning, so we did. He has a way of persuading you.” He sent her a little grin.
“I take that to mean if you don’t agree he finds a way to make certain you do.”
“He’s handy with his fists. On the other hand, that man would die for you. None of us really went against him. We followed him into every program he went into, including the GhostWalker program. Fortunately, all of us had some small psychic talent that allowed us in.”
He looked down at his hands. “I love the swamp—everything about it—and eventually, I’d like to make my permanent home there, but I want a partner. A woman of my own. It’s difficult for someone like me to envision who that would be. The others know what they’re looking for. Me, I think about this.” He gestured toward the woods and stream. “How to encompass the old with the new. My interests and my gifts. The things I know I need with the balance I think a woman might need.”
She didn’t respond. She just kept looking at him with those blue eyes of hers. The energy in her body seemed to have dissipated. He knew his body had drawn it from hers. She had to be aware of it, but he doubted if she’d guessed what that meant yet.
“Our team is close-knit. Each of them has a distinctly different personality, but I like them all. Wyatt is one of my team members, and his grandmother, Nonny, owns the property where most of us stayed in the beginning. Now several have bought up the properties around hers, Diego and I included. But Nonny simply accepted all of us as if we were family. It didn’t matter what kind of animal or insect or reptile DNA we had, she just accepted us. We eat together. We laugh and talk like one big family. Still, I’m ashamed to admit, I feel lonely.”
There was something about the steadiness of her gaze that made Rubin just a little uncomfortable, as if she had laser vision and could see inside him to where the weight of his talent sometimes crushed him.