CHAPTER FOUR
Rocko
He’d been incensed finding the team leader sitting outside his trailer. What the fuck had that been about?
His path to sleep had started like usual, with his brain working overtime on everything he’d seen and heard that day. No off switch to be found for his exhausted brain, he’d learned to live with it over the years with the help of Mr. Daniel’s. Jack Daniel’s, that is.
Hours later, still in an uneasy sleep, waking up throughout the night, he’d suddenly felt a calm wash over him, and it wasn’t due to his fourth – ok, maybe fifth – drink.
It was the strangest thing. He’d woken, wondering what the hell was happening to him, and when he found Apollo out behind his trailer, his calm was shattered.
The feeling of peace, which had happened several times over the past two days, was gone, replaced by a hot, biting anger.
Depression had been Rocko’s dark partner for multiple years, loneliness consuming him like a living, breathing beast. It didn’t help his mind ran on overdrive, confirming all his greatest fears with statistical accuracy.
He’d be lying to himself if he claimed never to have considered silencing his mind— permanently.
He was a genetically engineered group of cells created in a laboratory and abandoned in an orphanage. No one would miss him..
“So, are you ready for the tour?” Ellen asked, bringing Rocko out of his malevolent thoughts, and he turned his gaze away from the forest.
She and Hendrix were giving him the lay of the land before work began on the barn. Renee stood back, watching him closely, and Rocko couldn’t help but wonder how far her healing abilities went. Could his pain be healed even if it wasn’t physical?
“Lead on,” Rocko said. “I can’t wait to have a look around. This place is huge.”
“Oh yeah. You can get lost out here if you’re not careful,” Ellen said.
“Wait, do you get lost, dude?” Hendrix asked. “With your ability and all.”
“No, I’ve never been lost,” Rocko said. “My sense of direction, tracking ability, and memory make it impossible.”
“That is so cool. You’re a human GPS,” Ellen said before her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean that to sound so offensive.”
“No offense taken. I am like a GPS, and it’s gotten me out of some hairy situations while on an investigation.”
“I got lost on the property once before we’d cleared the main area and put in electricity,” Ellen admitted. “But my brother found me. He always knows where we are.”
“That’s good. It could get scary out in the woods alone,” Rocko agreed.
“Yeah, it got spooky fast.” She shivered. “Come on. Let’s go see the dock.”
“Dock?” Rocko asked.
“Yeah, we built a dock,” Ellen said.
“‘We’?” Hendrix asked with amusement.
“I was there for moral support.” She laughed. “And I brought lunch.”
A dock made sense given how close it was to the lake.
Rocko followed the pair from the main house, across the clearing, and into the tree line, headed east. He zipped his coat up a little higher as the sun’s warmth was blocked by the evergreen trees and bare branches.
It was still early spring, and patches of snow speckled here and there, mostly under the trees.
His boots crunched on the thawing earth and on partially frozen dried leaves.
Even with the chill in the air, Rocko couldn’t help but be entranced by the natural beauty around him.
He’d grown up in southern Florida, where snow was a rare sight and palm trees were the typical foliage.
Now, he had the opportunity to explore a completely different landscape, and Rocko was enjoying the surreal experiences.
The temperature warmed substantially when the sun peeked through, and soon, the trees thinned out again, and he could hear the water lapping at a shoreline.
When they cleared the last tree, Rocko’s boots crunched on a newly laid patch of gravel. Ahead of him stood Lake Champlain, only partially frozen, with a newly constructed wooden dock on the shore ready to go in once the ice had fully cleared. The view was stunning and vast.
“I can’t wait until summer to go swimming and boating,” Ellen said. “Depending on the blue-green algae, when it blooms. Or at least that’s what my brother said.”
“Yeah, Cyanobacteria would grow well in these waters, and when in bloom, they can cause a rash, allergic reactions, stomachaches, and liver damage.”
“Walking encyclopedia,” Hendrix chuckled. “That’s still more useful than knowing someone’s genealogy.”
“Hey, don’t knock yourself. Because of you, Brick and Stryker now know they’re first cousins, which led to an investigation into some serious generational criminal activity. In the end, it saved an entire town from some land-stealing assholes.”
“I guess,” Hendrix said, appearing less than convinced.
“If you hadn’t dropped the hint they were so closely related, there wouldn’t have been an investigation into how,” Ellen said. “Before that, they’d pretty much given up on figuring out the mystery of Sophia’s multiple boxes of paperwork she’d left behind in the house Brick had inherited.”
“Yeah, I suppose the two separate issues were related in the end,” Hendrix conceded, looking happier.
“That’s Vermont over there,” Ellen said as she pointed across the lake.
“Mount Independence is right there,” Rocko said as he pointed north. “It’s not as big as the Rockies, but it’s still a great hike.”
“There’s a marina, maybe this summer we could boat over,” Ellen suggested.
“I won’t be here, but I’m sure plenty of people will be willing to go with you,” Rocko said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Ellen said.
“Sure of what? People willing to go with you?”
“No. About you not being here. Don’t you like it here?” Ellen asked.
“Yeah, I do, but this is only a two-week arrangement.”
“Whatever. Let’s go see the well that was dug. We get safe, fresh water from it. Nice not to have to haul water in from town anymore,” Ellen said, effectively changing the subject as only a teenager could.
He’d been given the two-week deadline multiple times by the powers that be and doubted that it’d change, regardless of what Ellen believed.
***
Rocko was only partly listening as Jagger spoke enthusiastically about the way the compound utilities worked. He was more focused on the man by his side - Rocko wasn’t oblivious to the calm in his mind, and he was convinced Apollo had something to do with it.
“We use a combination of solar, wind, and hydroelectric generation from a stream on the property to keep the compound powered. With solar, we have panels mounted over one hundred feet up and facing south.” Jagger gesticulated with fervor, his passion clear to see.
The mechanical building was a thing of beauty, housing all the compound’s essential workings.
Jagger appeared to be the master of all things mechanical as well as a damn good pilot.
The man’s genetically engineered ability enabled him to see things differently from most people and to construct intricate systems from nothing, without drawings or schematics. He was truly talented.
His musing was interrupted by Jagger.
“Apollo, do you mind? The key has gone missing. It’ll save me having to use the hacksaw.” Jagger held a padlock that was closed and locked a chain around four refillable gas containers.
“Sure,” Apollo said before taking the padlock in his palm and closing his hand into a fist. Rocko saw the concentration on his face. Moments later, Apollo reopened his palm, revealing a melted shackle, allowing the chain to fall to the floor, free of the lock.
“Thanks,” Jagger said, taking the remains of the padlock out of his hand.
“Bet that ability comes in handy getting in and out of places,” Rocko said with a smirk.
“Exactly,” Jagger answered before Apollo could. “Although we do tend to go through padlocks a lot.”
“This setup you’ve got here is truly amazing for the first year alone,” Rocko said. “I’m impressed by your setup.. I’ve read about these systems, but I’ve never seen one as advanced as this. It’s ingenious. Could have used a guy like you in the trenches.”
Jagger’s face lit up with uncomfortable pride, and Rocko saw a slight smile of approval on Apollo’s face. Rocko wasn’t simply blowing smoke up Jagger’s ass to soft-soap Apollo. The guy was a huge memory bank of information.
“Thanks. I’ve put a lot of time and effort into this system,” Jagger said.
“It shows. I’d love a more detailed look when you have time,” Rocko said.
“Sure. Anytime.”
“We should get moving on the barn,” Apollo said curtly. “We only have four days before the first animals arrive.”
“Lead the way,” Rocko said. “Thanks again, Jagger.”
***
Apollo
Apollo led the way out and back into the rapidly graying sky. They might get a late season dusting of snow, but that should be the end of it this year. Apollo took a moment to bask in the peace surrounding him. Moments like these are rare, he thought, staring out across the land.
When they returned to the main cabin, Ellen and Hendrix seemed different and lighter somehow. Apollo called it the Rocko effect – the strange ability to lighten a person’s load without even trying.
Was Rocko using some hidden talent to put them all at ease to take advantage of them? To follow through with a devious plan Apollo hadn’t been able to uncover?
Renee and Griffin interrogated Apollo after the team headed out for the day, not fooled for his reason at being found at Rocko’s trailer.
They seemed concerned he allowed this phenomenon to cloud his common sense about the stranger.
Apollo reassured them nothing would ever impede his ability and dedication to this team. Not a fucking chance.
“What’s wrong?” Rocko asked, breaking Apollo free of his troubling thoughts.
“Nothing.”
“Okay, but you’re growling. You know, you can tell me to mind my own damn business instead of lying. I won’t get offended.”
“Really? If I told you to stay the hell in your own lane, you’d be fine?”
“Yes. If anyone understands the bullshit involved in simply existing in our fucked-up world, it’s me. C’est la vie. I’m only here for two weeks, why would I give a fuck?”
Apollo searched Rocko’s face for any hint that he might be lying but found none.
“You’re a strange one. You intentionally put people at ease around you when you yourself are as raw as an open wound.”
“Huh, not the first time I’ve been called strange, but I’ve never been called a raw wound. Fuck that imagery man. Disgusting,” Rocko said with a shudder before walking toward the half-finished barn. “Coming?”
Apollo was having a hard time figuring out Rocko, which was a first for him. What exactly was this guy’s game?