Beyond the Past (3 page)

Chapter 5

Ravenous, Lucas didn’t know whether to eat more bacon or gobble up the rest of his Denver omelet. It all tasted so good. He pinched his arm under the table to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Garrett sat across from him drinking coffee, his tawny eyes never leaving Lucas. If he hadn’t been so hungry, he might’ve been a little uncomfortable with the hard stare.

“How did you find me?” He hadn’t used a credit card or anything since before he left Gabby.

“You look bad, man,” Garrett mumbled, ignoring the question.

“I know,” he replied, his mouth full.

“We need to get you off the streets.”

Lucas shook his head. If he didn’t exist, they couldn’t find him. “I’m fine right where I am.”

Garrett leaned forward. “I’m going to throw caution to the wind and say what’s on my mind. Based on the fact that you’ve gone from a good soldier and honest husband to a homeless drunk, I guess the explosion left you with some ability you don’t understand.”

Lucas stared at him as he chewed on a strip of bacon, trying not to let his surprise show.

“I think it left all of us with strange abilities,” Garrett added, his voice low.

“Like what?” Wariness still plagued him, but his excitement also grew. What if the others in the unit could see into the future and witness others’ deaths? What had happened to all of them?

His handlers had told him so many times in their monthly visits that his life, as well as Gabby’s, would be terminated if he spoke of his ability to anyone. Therefore, he hadn’t. Sure, he wanted to live, but he couldn’t put Gabby in danger. He loved her more than his own existence, and would do anything to protect her. His ability scared him; being monitored so closely terrified him; and that’s why he’d left. In essence, with him not around, Gabby would be safe.

Garrett peered around the restaurant, took a sip of coffee, and leaned forward again. “Weird stuff. Supernatural shit.”

Lucas sat back in the booth, the blue vinyl creaking. He took a sip of coffee and a bite of toast. He couldn’t remember the last time food had tasted so good. Regardless of the incredible meal, he still didn’t trust Garrett. He wanted to as they were brothers in arms and had been to the far corners of the world together. They’d been shot at many times in the Middle East; they’d compared respective number of bug bites in Guatemala. In between those times, there’d been a lot of joking around and a lot of laughs. Their platoon’s success had been based on trust.

However, Lucas’s fundamental makeup had been altered in that explosion, and he barely trusted his own judgment, let alone someone else’s. “Okay, I give up. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Garrett smiled and shrugged. “Maybe you don’t, which is fine. However, what I’m about to share with you needs to stay between the two of us.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “In my present circumstance, my list of friends and confidants is pretty small.”

After a moment, Garrett nodded. “Fine. I’m going to trust you, Lucas. This is strangest of the strange.”

“I get it.” Well, he hoped he did. He really wished others affected by the explosion existed, but at the same time, he loved his platoon more than his pot-smoking, commune-loving bohemian parents who had disowned him because he went into the military. Unlike his blood family, his platoon had had his back at all times. He wouldn’t wish the aftermath of the explosion on any of them.

“Well, you know I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, so let’s just get down to it. Brody can control the sea, and I can turn into a bear,” Garrett murmured.

Under normal circumstances, Lucas would have laughed and told Garrett he needed to see a shrink, but nothing had been normal since the accident. Really, though, a bear? Kind of cool, and he could tell the serious look on Garrett’s face spelled that he’d told the stone-cold truth. In fact, Garrett almost looked as though he challenged him to disagree, which Lucas wouldn’t do. Shit had been too weird for too long for him.

“What about the others?”

Garrett shook his head. “Haven’t found them yet.”

“Why are you here? How did you find me?”

“My boss found you.”

“What does he want with me?”

“He wants you to come work for him.”

Lucas rubbed his eyes, his fully belly making him feel older and more tired than he had before as it weighed him down.

“I don’t want a job, Garrett,” he mumbled. He wanted to disappear into the depths of society and live out his days knowing Gabby didn’t have to suffer because of his duty to his country that had turned on him in such a horrific way.

“What do you want? I can tell you right now, living on the streets isn’t doing jack shit for your health. You’ll be dead in a couple of months. In fact, in your current state, you remind me of a turkey vulture.”

“A turkey vulture?”

“Yeah, disgusting animals. They like to eat dead stuff. In fact, when they’re hot, they pee and shit on their own legs to cool themselves off. To fend off a predator, it barfs up all that dead meat it ate. That’s what you look and smell like, Lucas. A fucking turkey vulture.”

“How do you know so much about turkey vultures?”

Garrett rolled his eyes. “I turn into a bear, man. I see what the other animals are up to. I watch and learn about my animal neighbors. Them turkey vultures are awful.”

Lucas sighed and looked out the window. The temperature would rise into the forties today, and dip down into the teens again tonight. Maybe he should jump on a train to California. A beach sounded really good right about now.

“So, answer my question, Lucas. What do you want? You better figure that out because right now, you look like your option of choosing life over death isn’t going to be much of an option in the near future.”

What he wanted ... hell, he didn’t know what he wanted. Peace? To stop having visions of people being killed? That would be a fantastic start.

Maybe he wanted death. Would it be so terrible? Maybe not, as he didn’t have a whole lot to live for. Gabby was better off away from him and his crazy visions, not to mention the government who hunted him.

“Well?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t know what I want,” he admitted.

The other man sighed. “Well, will you come with me until you figure it out? I can’t stand to see you like this, my brother.”

Lucas glanced around the restaurant. If Garrett could admit he turned into a bear, then Lucas could certainly come clean about his supernatural ability. The need to talk about it with another overcame him, and he blurted, “You turn into a bear; Brody controls the ocean. I
see
things, Garrett. Crazy shit. It scares the hell out of me.”

“And what do you see?”

“I see people dying. It’s like . . . it’s like a waking dream or something. I just get these images every now and then.”

“Have you seen any of these . . . visions about yourself?”

He shook his head.

“Well, that’s good,” Garrett murmured as the waitress approached the table.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asked.

Lucas couldn’t help but notice her too tight white blouse, the gap at her bust garnering him a slight glimpse at her white, lacy bra. He closed his eyes as images of Gabby in her blue lingerie haunted him. What he would give to skim his tongue over the silk of her ample breasts and feel her nipple harden. A sigh escaped him—he missed his wife and the life they’d had together.

“No, I think we’re good,” Garrett said.

Lucas opened his eyes and kept his gaze trained on Garrett, and off the waitress and her chest as Garrett handed her some money.

“Keep the change,” he added, flashing her his mega-watt smile.

She grinned and winked. “Thanks. Hope to see you boys in here again soon.” She then moved to the next table to refill the coffee.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Lucas said.

Garrett nodded. “I hope it sits okay in your stomach.”

As if on cue, his gut clenched. He hadn’t eaten like this in six months, and a system-wide revolt threatened to come on.

“You need to come with me,” Garrett murmured again. “What happened to us wasn’t an accident, Lucas. My employer says it was intentional, our government running an experiment on us.”

Lucas stood and shook his head. “I’m not interested in a job, Garrett. I don’t know what I want, but I know I don’t want to be tied down right now, and I don’t care who did it or why.”

“Just come and hear what he has to say.” Garrett pulled out a cell phone. He quickly tapped the screen, stuffed it back in his pocket, and got up from the table.

Lucas shook his head, surprised by how little he missed modern-day technology. “I’m not in any condition to talk about jobs, man. My head’s all fucked up.
I’m
fucked up.”

“Which is exactly why you need to talk to him,” Garrett said as they walked out the front door.

Turning to his friend, Lucas stuck out his hand. “Thanks for everything, man.”

“What’s the deal, Lucas? You got places to go and people to see?” Garrett took his hand and draped his huge arm over his shoulder.

“Something like that.” He grinned, feeling small and weak next to Garrett, as they used to be fairly equal in stature.

A van pulled up to the curb, and the door opened. Before Lucas knew what had happened, Garrett had maneuvered them both toward the vehicle, his arms wrapped around him.

“What the hell, Garrett?” he yelled, trying to squirm away from his grasp, his head buried in the barrel chest.

“If you aren’t willing to save yourself, then I’m going to do it for you,” Garrett growled, picking him up and carrying him into the van. A second later, the door slammed, Garrett forced him to sit down, and Lucas’s body rattled as he hit the seat. The van lurched, throwing them both momentarily off balance. The big man let go and Lucas pushed him away.

He found himself on a bench facing the back doors. A man in a wheelchair sat in front of him, smiling.

“Mr. Tate,” he said. “My name is Joe Smith. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Chapter 6

“What the hell is this, Garrett? You just fucking kidnapped me!” Lucas yelled, ignoring Joe Smith and studying the interior.

No windows in the gutted-out empty space. He turned his head toward the front, only to see a metal wall. He was literally trapped by in an iron box. What the hell?

“Relax, man,” Garrett said. “You needed to be kidnapped.”

Lucas shot him a glare and sat back, gazing at the door. What would his injuries be if he threw himself out of a van rumbling along at forty-five miles per hour?

“You stink, and you need to sober up and get healthy again,” Garrett said. “You look bad, man—turkey vulture bad. I’m going to make sure you get back on the right side of things.”

“There is no right side, you moron,” he grumbled as he studied Joe Smith. “Not anymore.”

Joe Smith’s intelligent gaze never left Lucas while a small smile played on his lips. His light brown hair was the same shade as the suit he wore, and intelligent, blue eyes stared Lucas down. An air of confidence shrouded him as he sat with his fingers laced together, and Lucas could think of only a few words to describe him—ordinary, yet, extraordinary. The man appeared completely and utterly average, and Lucas doubted he would ever notice him in a crowd. However, the aura or energy around him surprised Lucas. He’d never felt anything like it before. Hell, he’d never even contemplated anyone’s aura or energy in fifteen years. Jesus, look at him getting all ‘new age.’ Apparently, his upbringing in the hippie commune still seemed to be alive and well within him.

“Like I said, I’m very happy to meet you, Mr. Tate, and I can assure you, you haven’t been kidnapped. Garrett suggested this would be the best way for you to hear my proposal, and I agreed.”

Just to show what a mess he’d become, Lucas reached into his coat and pulled out his flask. He didn’t want to hear any proposals. He wanted to go back to his life on the streets where he was no one and nothing and people ignored him, and in some cases, vilified him.

“Do take care to pace yourself, Mr. Tate,” Joe said. “We will be going up some windy roads, and I would hate to have our driver, Thomas, needing to clean vomit out the back of the van.”

Lucas narrowed his gaze on the man, and just for good measure, took another sip. He glanced over at the door again, wondering about his chances for escape.

“That’s the second time you’ve studied the door, Mr. Tate, and I can assure you, even if you could get it to open, which you can’t, your chances of survival hover right around zero. We’re at a place in the highway where if you were to throw yourself out, you would either be crushed by traffic, or tossed up against the cement divider, which would certainly leave a nasty mess.”

With no windows in the back of the van, he could only take Joe’s word. He didn’t know what his next step in life would be, but faced with the option of tossing himself out the door to the death Joe promised, he found himself choosing life.

They rode in silence for about a half-hour and the van veered to the right. Lucas knew they had left the freeway when they came to a stop, but had no idea where they could be headed.

After a few more miles, the van turned right again. A couple of clicks later, it steered left, and the pavement turned into a dirt road.

“This is where it gets a little dicey,” Garrett said.

For a good half hour, they bounced around as the van climbed the gutted road. Joe studied Lucas while holding on to a strap from the ceiling, his wheelchair obviously locked. A couple of times, Lucas had to catch himself from being bounced off the bench and landing at Joe’s feet.

Finally, the van stopped.

“We just have a little bit further to travel, Mr. Tate.”

Lucas swallowed the bile in his throat, determined not to get sick in front of these men and wishing he hadn’t taken that last swig of rum.

A few moments later, the vehicle came to a halt, and the engine died.

“We’re at our final destination, Mr. Tate. Before we get out of the van, I would like your word that you will stay with me for twenty-four hours to hear what I have to say. That’s all I ask, twenty-four hours of your time.”

Lucas glared at him, but held his tongue.

“When we open these doors, we will be in approximately two feet of snow. To escape, you will have to travel around three miles before you reach a paved road. After that, you will need to trek across four miles before you reach the main highway.”

Damn, that amounted to a lot of travel to get to some sort of civilization. He glanced down at his worn tennis shoes; his feet would freeze within the first mile.

“However, if you stay with me for the allotted twenty-four hours and listen to what I have to say, I promise to feed you, give you new clothes, a little pocket money, and we can drop you off back at the Denny’s, if you don’t like what you hear.”

The sliding door to the van opened and Lucas gazed out. Virgin snow gleamed for miles, surrounding a small pond covered in a thin sheet of ice. Thick forest stood beyond the pond and the road.

He stepped out, the snow coming up to his knees. Towering juniper and spruce trees littered the valley, the silence almost deafening. As he walked around the van, a true-to-God log cabin with a full wrap-around porch and green, metal roof greeted him. The warm, brown logs invited him in, the puffs of smoke coming from the chimney reminding him of how cold he’d been in the past couple of months. As far as timing and location went, he’d definitely picked the wrong place to be homeless for the winter.

“Twenty-four hours is all I ask, Mr. Tate,” Joe Smith added again from the interior.

As the snow seeped into his shoes and pants, a shiver tore through his body. He longed to sit in front of the fireplace and feel the warmth on his skin and penetrate into his bones.

Twenty-four hours. What did have to lose? Nothing. He had nowhere to be, no one to answer to. What did he have to gain? A warm bed, a few hot meals, and a shower. He did have to admit, his curiosity had been piqued as he wondered about this so-called job. Joe had spent the last forty-five minutes in the van with him, had had plenty of time to look at him and his condition, but yet, he still wanted Lucas to hear him out.

In a nutshell, for the next twenty-four hours, he was golden.

Lucas looked over at Garrett who stood next to him, and then at Joe. “Okay. I’m yours for twenty-four hours.”