CHAPTER ONE #2
Damn, his neck ached, and his patience had reached its limit.
He hoped his temporary detainment wasn’t a precursor of what to expect when he arrived at the compound.
The rook’s superiors would have to think long and hard about what to do with him.
Personally, Rocko would love to see the guy busted down to parking meter duty, but that wasn’t up to him.
It was one thing to have a suspect get the jump on you, but a completely different realm of fucked up to throw the man who saved your ass under a bus in an attempt to keep your secret.
Asshole. Christ, even though he’d pointed out the security cameras to the addict, the rook had been oblivious to his reality.
More or less, he had a two-hour drive from Albany to Ticonderoga, where he was set to meet with a team member of Apollo’s at the Burleigh’s Luncheonette on Montcalm Street, and then to follow them out to their new property.
When he asked why he couldn’t simply drive directly to their property, he was told point-blank he’d never find it.
As a survivor of the Noah Group, Rocko could understand and even respect their need for security and living off-grid.
Still, he was extremely resourceful, a fucking detective after all, so yeah, he could’ve found the location.
However, Rocko could also see the benefits of vetting every person who came into contact with their team members, and how it would essentially protect them from any kind of threat.
He knew it wasn’t uncommon for folks to set up compounds to avoid contact with outsiders, the law, and government.
Being out here in the thick of the forest was a favorite retreat.
There’d likely be a shit-ton of work ahead of them clearing the land Apollo had inherited, bequeathed to him by his Iroquois grandmother.
The area was being developed into a safe place for Apollo’s people, which included his team.
They were building new structures, installing a septic system, electricity, and installing a clean water supply.
And that was only the beginning of building a place of safety beyond the clutches of the Noah Group.
Hell, he might find himself sleeping in a damn tent in the bush for all he knew.
Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d roughed it in the middle of nowhere, and likely not the last. As a previous test subject of the Noah Project, Rocko had mutations he’d used throughout his career in the police force while staying off the Noah Group’s radar.
He’d been six when he was cut loose and thrown into an orphanage.
Part of his ability, beyond his knack for finding people, was a memory beyond photographic or eidetic, surpassing hyperthymesia.
This ability allowed him to recall all past experiences in extreme detail.
Down to the date, time, weather, smell, feel, people, words spoken, locations, and so on.
At times, it became almost too much to handle when Rocko’s brain reached overload from storing so much information. The interior noise was deafening, and things got so bad that even knowing it was a stupid move, he’d turned to alcohol in an attempt to drown it all out.
He’d always kept his distance from close friendships. Even with Ray, a fellow detective, though they were friends and fuck buddies when available. No one knew the true him.
Ray called him the easygoing optimist. He doubted his friend would say the same if he got a look inside the true Detective Rocko Owens, with his overworked brain and the lengths he went to silence it.
At times, the only thing that mattered was dulling the pain in his head, as he’d done too many times to count over the years.
The drive wasn’t as horrible as he’d expected, and Rocko would have actually enjoyed it if he’d been here to take in the beautiful landscape and cozy vibe of small towns and villages.
He glanced out of the passenger window at the passing wall of foliage.
Upstate New York was filled with expansive green forests, tranquil lakes, and winding roads that trailed off the main highway, leading to unknown places deep in the wilderness.
This place was a paradise for backpackers, homesteaders, and explorers set in the Adirondack Mountains.
He’d done his research: Ticonderoga had approximately five thousand full-time residents and a Star Trek Original Series Set Tour in its museum.
But Rocko had no interest in exploring the universe, considering his life was a sci-fi drama on a daily basis.
He was more interested in what was available in the area, including amenities and infrastructure.
Huh. My life is already a science fiction story, who needs more?
Sure, it was an impressive little town with all the shit someone would need to live a pretty damn comfortable life. Drive five minutes in any direction, and bam, you were in the forest.
There was a small plane airport, Ticonderoga Municipal, north of town, which piqued his curiosity. He’d trained as a pilot in the Army Rangers, a world he’d lost himself in that felt like a lifetime ago.
The sun shone through the windshield, burning his eyes as he drove down Montcalm Street and turned into the diner’s empty parking lot.
“Great.” Rocko looked at his watch and confirmed he was almost up to the minute of their meeting’s rescheduled time, but the diner was closed, and no other vehicles were parked in the lot.
Now what? This bullshit day is wearing down the little patience I have.
Rocko looked around at the quiet street and knew the sun would soon set. Though the town had an inn, he didn’t relish tracking it down and hoping they had a room, but it was the offseason, so it was possible.
Rocko left his truck running for the heat.
It was April, but the area was still cold, with temperatures dropping to nearly freezing.
The snow had turned to disgusting slushy rain, and the days were gradually getting longer, though there were still remnants of the largest snowbanks in the melting process.
He couldn’t help but think this was a test. After all, he was a stranger. Caution was to be expected from this group.
Rocko settled in. His life as a detective prepared him to wait for long periods on any given case.
However long they’d keep testing him, he refused to turn tail, give in, or return to Florida.
There was nothing left for him there. He stretched out his legs and lounged back in his seat while continuously scanning the area.
This long fucked-up day had got even longer.
He was on a fuckin’ roll.