Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
Judd hummed under his breath as he deftly sliced through skin, muscle, and tendon.
His forearms and naked chest were splattered in blood, heat rising off his sweaty skin as he worked the sharp hunting knife through the abdomen of the dead deer.
Though he was humming, his face relaxed, Gabriel could see the concentration in the set of his eyebrows.
The shine in his eyes as he worked, moving with an ease that spoke of experience.
His back was a scarred mess from the Monkey Cat attack. Gabriel hadn’t seen it since the wounds closed over and was surprised by just how much thickened scar tissue Judd was sporting. Healing had to have hurt like a bitch.
Beside him, Victoria crossed her arms and watched as Judd worked. Her face was pinched, blonde hair falling loose from the bun she usually kept it in. Stray frizzy pieces were catching the fading light like a messy crown as she ducked her nose into the high collar of her jacket.
“Damn Danger Tits,” Judd drawled as he removed an organ, letting it drop in the bucket by his side. “That was a clean shot. Right through the heart. Dead before he hit the ground.”
Victoria’s eye twitched, but she didn’t respond. Gabriel wondered if she was offended or too busy trying to keep her lunch down. He was regretting the second hot dog he’d wolfed down before they went hunting.
Gabriel had shot many things. Most of them human-shaped.
And while he couldn’t say that didn’t make him uncomfortable, there was something about seeing an animal butchered that just…
didn’t sit right with him. He knew meat wasn’t born in pre-packaged Styrofoam containers, but he sure as shit preferred to look at them that way.
Normally, Irving didn’t like them to go hunting.
It was risky. Ammo was a precious commodity, and guns were loud.
They didn’t want to do anything to draw attention—of the human or extraterrestrial kind.
But the cold was finally waning, snow melting, and it was the perfect opportunity to find food.
They could dehydrate this meat and turn it into jerky to keep for months.
Or better yet, develop some kind of pemmican.
It wouldn’t necessarily taste good, but it would store well and give them the energy and fat they would need. Especially if they were on the run.
They could fill a cooler with ice and snow and hope the meat stayed good. Either way, it would be a nice change of pace to have something fresh. Even if Gabriel did have to avoid looking at its face.
Judd had found the deer, tracking it like some kind of savant.
Gabriel knew a little bit about tracking, but that was mostly humans, and he knew the army hadn’t taught Judd half of what he knew.
He was a bit cagey about how he learned, but Gabriel suspected it might be a core curriculum in Texas elementary schools.
Despite his tracking skills, it was Victoria who took the shot.
She didn’t hesitate. Swinging the rifle up, sighting, and pulling the trigger.
It was a clean shot. Gorgeous really. The other deer in the herd scattered, running into the thick underbrush while she strode forward to check her kill, ready to put it out of its misery if she missed. Victoria rarely missed.
Still, she looked just as uncomfortable with the act of butchering it as Gabriel felt.
Phin hadn’t come with them. Gabriel wanted someone to stay behind to watch the motel. One guy probably wouldn’t make a difference if they were attacked, but Phin knew when to call it. He’d get everyone to safety before shit really hit the fan. He didn’t fight Gabriel on the order.
Gabriel suspected the reasons for it was tiny and vegan-shaped.
The motel was quiet. He figured the refugees from the other day were sleeping, and Blake was no doubt furiously looking up frostbite and blaming himself for it. As if he could somehow prevent the winter from taking its toll.
Gabriel glanced over toward the infirmary and felt his heart clench.
Blake blamed himself for things he couldn’t control.
It wasn’t something Gabriel was familiar with.
He’d taken lives, and he wore them like a weight around his neck.
Sins so heavy some days he could barely stand up straight.
But those were his decisions. He aimed down the barrel and pulled the trigger.
Took a life, and it didn’t matter that he thought he was doing the right thing.
Didn’t matter that there was a gun pointed right back at him.
But Blake didn’t do that. And maybe it wasn’t the intent that mattered. His hands didn’t take the life, but they didn’t save it either. The deaths still etched themselves onto his soul. A life was a life, whether it was taken or not saved.
That was the burden of someone like Blake, he supposed. Where a soldier like Gabriel could accept that there were things in this life he couldn’t do. Whether it was fate, God, or something else entirely, people were going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.
But Blake was a healer. That special kind of person who never said no, who refused to accept the natural order of the world. Soldiers fight the enemy. Healers fight the reaper.
The last line of defense.
And that was a heavy burden. One Gabriel was going to do his damnedest to help Blake bear.
He reached down to touch the thick bundle stuffed into one of his pockets and smiled.
It wasn’t Blake’s usual fare, but he hoped he would enjoy it anyway.
They had been walking back from hunting, talking about nothing, and Gabriel happened to look into the backseat of a stalled Sedan and seen the corner of the novel peeking out.
He’d brushed off the safety glass and dust, seen the dragon sketched on the cover with gold foil, and immediately stuck it in his pocket.
Maybe it would be enough to make Blake smile.
Maybe he’d even read it to Gabriel. Preferably naked.
Victoria scoffed at something Judd said, and it dragged Gabriel’s attention back to the present. He glanced up at the sky.
“How much longer?”
Judd shrugged. “Art takes time.”
“You’ve got two ears too many, Van Gogh. Finish and have this cleaned up before dark.”
With a bloody salute, Judd turned back to the carcass. “Yeah, yeah,” Judd grumbled as he waved a gore-covered knife at him. “Go give Blake his book.”
Gabriel flipped him off.
“How did you get blood on your back?” he heard Victoria ask as he walked away.
“I had an itch.”
Gabriel didn’t linger long enough to hear Victoria’s undoubtedly scathing response to that. It probably just turned Judd on.
With his hand ghosting toward the pocket he used to keep his crochet hook in, Gabriel made his way toward the infirmary. He was careful to open the door quietly. When he got in, he found the room still. The patients were all bundled into their beds, blankets heavy.
Blake’s desk had papers and textbooks scattered all over it, but no Blake. He took a final glance around before slipping back out.
He couldn’t imagine why Blake would be in their room, but he checked that next. The bed was still rumpled, clothes on the floor. The room smelled stale. Stuffy. He couldn’t wait until it was warm enough to open the window and sleep with fresh air.
Blake wasn’t in Irving’s office or helping Sabrina cook. She just shrugged when he asked if she’d seen him. Gabriel promised to bring her a bucket of fresh water after he found Blake and then went to find Tommy.
The EMT was out back, beyond the parking lot on a strip of grass with a doggy sign. It was clearly the designated dog walking area, although the winter had stripped the grass of life and droppings.
Phin and Tommy were standing between two trees, shovels in hand. Several chickens were pecking at the ground around a cat lazing in the sun.
Tommy saw him first, lifting a hand in greeting. “We’re working on a garden,” he answered Gabriel’s unasked question, excitement in his eyes.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, practically vibrating in excitement. “Ground is finally thawing a little. We still have those seeds we found a few months ago, and I think tomatoes should be easy enough to grow.”
Phin didn’t say anything, but he was watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye, his lips quirked fondly.
“That would be amazing. I would kill for a BLT.”
Tommy’s smile faltered a little.
“Uh, I mean…an LT. Hold the B,” Gabriel amended. Tommy might have been fueled by veggies and panic, but he could be downright scary when he was angry.
“Hey, have either of you seen Blake?”
Tommy froze, just for a second, then went back to talking about shade plants versus full sun. He turned his back to Gabriel, shoulders hiking up.
“Tommy?”
The smaller man fidgeted with his shovel. “Um. No. Not—no. Haven’t seen him.” He still had his back to Gabriel. Even Phin looked confused.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, skin prickling with the beginnings of worry. Gabriel stepped closer to Tommy. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m trying to tell you about perennial—”
“Tommy.”
He flinched and then looked up at Phin, then Gabriel. The fringes of his light brown hair hung over his eyes, but they did nothing to hide the guilt swimming in his irises.
“I don’t know…exactly.”
Gabriel’s hands clenched into fists. “What do you mean?”
Phin took a step closer to Tommy, not so subtly putting himself between Gabriel and the smaller man.
“We need to know where Blake is.” His voice was as gentle as Gabriel had ever heard it, but it was like nails on a chalkboard to Gabriel.
Too soft. Too slow. Urgency drummed in Gabriel’s head, and his heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his ribs, reverberating down his spine with the need to see Blake. Now.
“I don’t know where he is, but I saw him leave.” Tommy swallowed. “He, ah, went with Team Beta.”