Hunter's Moon (6 page)

The bulletproof vest he wore constricted his already shallow breathing and, though he knew it was a bad idea, he removed the whole thing and placed it on the bench seat next to the sleeping guy, then closed the door as quietly as he could. He wouldn’t be gone long, so he felt safe enough to leave the cowboy alone briefly.

He walked out into the large cemetery field, the yellowing grass mostly trampled, the area wide open, without any shade. It didn’t take Kieran long to find the right tombstone—Price, how fitting—and, glancing around to see if anyone was out there and finding no one, he tilted the heavy stone slab back to expose the metal box beneath it. With it, he returned to the truck.

Gabriel stood outside the vehicle, looking distinctly alarmed, and glancing around fearfully in little fits of nerves. Kieran felt guilty at the sight of it. As soon as Gabriel saw him approach, he rounded the truck and stepped right into Kieran’s path, his brown eyes ablaze.

“Where—” he started, his low, deep voice cracking with concern.

Kieran stilled his undoubtedly bountiful and untimely questions. “I had to get this.” Showing Gabriel the metal lockbox, Kieran went for a pacifying tone. “Wanna drive the rest of the way? I could use a break.” But try as he might, he couldn’t look Gabriel in the eye. The silence dragged on, and all Kieran saw was Gabriel’s broad, muscular chest moving under his tight borrowed clothes, heaving with breath and emotion.

Finally, Gabriel shrugged and said, “Sure.”

Without another word, he turned around, climbed into the truck on the driver’s side, and started the ignition. Exhaling heavily, Kieran walked to the passenger’s side and slid in, more than a little uncomfortable. But Gabriel withheld his frustration and whatever else he might have felt, and focused on driving as they got back on the road.

As they drove on without speaking to each other, they passed flourishing green fields, isolated farmhouses, and little patches of woods, as well as over larger highways to stay on the tiny roads. Kieran waited a good twenty minutes before turning his attention to the lockbox. With the key he had in his chest pocket, he opened it, observing from the corner of his eye Gabriel taking a peek at the box as well.

The Glock 19 with three magazines was a given, just like the five rolls of cash, each worth a thousand dollars. These items Kieran had in all of his stashes, because you always needed ready cash, and when you were being pursued, a gun definitely came in handy. It wasn’t much, but money and a gun were better than nothing.

Closing the lockbox, Kieran let out a long sigh, weary. “I’m gonna take a nap, okay?” His eyelids felt like someone had attached weights to them, and he slumped against the vinyl seat, adrift in slumber before he heard if there was any reply.

When Kieran awoke next, with no concept of how much time had passed; the truck was still and the engine was off. Startled, he nearly bounced off his seat. A strong, warm hand landed on his arm.

“Everything’s okay. We’re at the Rosedown parking lot.”

The deep voice was almost a whisper. Trying to keep his heart from hammering through his chest and getting his sleepy eyes to focus, Kieran found Gabriel sitting next to him on the bench seat, cool as a cucumber. The cowboy’s smile was reassuring but weaker than Kieran would have wished for, he mused—and then he practically jumped out of his skin with the weirdness of the thought.

Shifting to a more upright position—and simultaneously dislodging Gabriel’s touch on his arm—Kieran coughed and looked around through the windows. “Already? You must’ve driven pretty fast.”

“No. It’s been over an hour since you fell asleep.” Kieran dared a look at Gabriel, but the man didn’t see him because he was watching the orange-tinted skies through the windshield. “It’s getting late. The sun’s going down in a couple of hours. Do you really have a place here where we can spend the night? Or do we keep going?” Gabriel looked down at his feet, and it was then that Kieran realized the man had driven without any shoes, with feet that must’ve already been hurting. “I don’t mind either way. I can keep driving for a while. Your call.”

“There’s a small river that runs behind the plantation, and I have a small safe house by the water there. It’s camouflaged, just north of Rosedown, and no one goes there. Well… when I say house, I mean more of a… shack, really.” Hearing his own apologetic, embarrassed tone, he couldn’t for the life of him fathom why he was explaining that to Gabriel. Surely the man understood why he was forced to hide in places like these.

Gabriel shrugged as if disinterested. “Lead on.” He got out of the truck, elegantly for a man of his musculature and size, and Kieran found himself staring at the cowboy’s receding back with his mouth hanging open. Shutting his mouth with an audible click, Kieran followed suit in a flurry of movement, remembering to wipe away any prints on the steering wheel, the stick shift, and the GPS, and grabbing his bulletproof vest before jumping out.

They abandoned the truck and headed north past the gift shop near the parking lot. There were dirt paths that led into the woods. From their state, it was apparent the trails were well traveled, but they all soon turned back toward the plantation, while Kieran led the two of them into the woods on a poor footpath that obviously saw few feet.

Green surrounded them on all sides now. Massive old oak trees with large branches like long, wide arms spreading out created a thick canopy above them. Hickories and pecans added to the thickness with their own branches, and tall cypresses stood with their hanging moss masking views to the horizon behind an obscuring green-grey veil. Birds were singing and a few crickets sounded here and there, but other than those natural noises, it was serene. Sweet and rotting smells mixed from the river and the woods, and the earth was damp and at times bogged them down, the sloshing sounds created by their feet almost obscenely loud. Kieran hated this part of the South, where hard ground and swampland mixed too close, and one could never tell if the next step would land on solid earth or sinking soil. Insects were buzzing, louder as they neared the narrow strip of water, which was more of a brook than a river.

From time to time, Kieran glanced over his shoulder at Gabriel to see if the man was following and how fast and how well. He worried over the state of the man’s feet and kept stealing furtive looks at them.

“Don’t worry about me,” Gabriel said suddenly in a calm voice, spooking Kieran so that he nearly walked into a tree. “I’m a lycan. I’ll heal quickly, and there is very little pain. This is more annoying than anything.”

Kieran turned away, ashamed for reasons he didn’t bother to analyze. “Cool.”

Quiet for only a few minutes, Gabriel spoke again, this time in a hushed tone, as if worried someone would overhear them. “Are you sure it will be safe to spend the night? How long will it take before they find us?”

Kieran knew Gabriel’s words weren’t intended as a recrimination, yet that’s how he heard them, and he gritted his teeth. “We ditched the car. If the GPS still works, they’ll find it and start figuring out what alternative means of transportation are available.”

“Like stolen trucks?” The question was more curious than accusatory.

“Yes.” Kieran took a deep breath to center himself. “The good news is, they’re not the authorities, and as such they don’t have access to surveillance cameras and shit. The bad news is, they’re more than capable of pretending to
be
the authorities to get access to all possible means of tracking us.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Kieran heard the concern in Gabriel’s deep voice, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. “Yeah, well, no one said this was going to be easy.” After that he fell silent, and Gabriel followed his lead. So they passed their journey through the rough, untamed terrain in unpleasant silence.

When they reached the edge of the water, Kieran saw their destination. The branches of a large oak tree broadly covered a ramshackle shed that looked like it had been overrun by the elements—all of them at once. It didn’t look livable or safe.

“Is that what they call rustic chic?”

Without meaning to, Kieran laughed out loud at Gabriel’s commentary, which had sounded snobbish but had probably been more amused than derisive. “Only the best for my guests.” Giving a careful, detailed glance around, Kieran sniffed the air and tilted his head to listen for any unusual sounds. Anticipating anything from lost hikers to armed assault teams, he waited in place to see if something would surface.

“There is no one here. There was a family of five in the plantation north garden plus two young girls at the gift shop. But there’s no one here now.”

Kieran turned to Gabriel, who met his gaze with his own leveled one. Looking away, Kieran nodded in frustrated acceptance of the fact and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Walking into the shed, which looked in danger of imminent collapse with its shaky roof and beaten boards, Kieran made sure nothing was disturbed by human hands. The broken windows and the door standing ajar were just as he had left them five days previously. Inside, the floor was sprinkled with dead leaves, moss, and gravel blown in by the occasional breeze. A rickety chair and tilting wooden table stood feebly against the left wall; a rusty, metal-framed bed with a dirty mattress was situated on the right; and a busted fireplace made of cobblestones dominated the back wall, cracked and filthy like everything else in the hut.

There was evidence of some small critters and perhaps birds having been there, if the droppings and upturned empty tin cans were anything to go by. He cared for none of that. Crouching down to the old, worn, once sky-blue piece of dirty rug, and finding the latch underneath, he twisted it open. The rug was attached to a wooden trapdoor with a nail, so it rose and set with the door.

“What is that?” Gabriel asked behind him. Kieran hated when someone stood directly behind his back, not speaking or moving. Because of that age-old disquieting feeling, he didn’t bother replying.

Underneath the secret trapdoor was a metallic hatch with a lock and a numbered keypad sealed behind reinforced glass. Kieran flipped the lid of the keypad open and punched in a five-digit access code. He took out a key that dangled along with his dog tags on a metal chain around his neck and unlocked the hatch. Turning the handle created a series of grinding sounds as underground gears shifted, and Kieran lifted the hatch.

As he descended the metal staircase into the darkness, he smiled and said to himself, “Ah, home, sweet home.”

It didn’t take him long to get the generator up and running, and his underground safe haven was lit with a soft yellowish glow from mining lamps high up on the walls.

Gabriel had followed Kieran down and was inspecting the place with a curious eye. “Is this a bomb shelter?”

Kieran could see why the cowboy would think that. The cement bunker had been built in the floor plan of a cross, with the entrance in one peg, two beds in another, a basic kitchenette in the third, and an open door that led to a tiny bathroom in the fourth, just opposite the entrance. The whole area was filled with bare necessities like toilet paper, batteries, first aid kits, canisters of gas and oil, a wealth of tin cans of preserved food, water bottles and water filters, a compass, several rolls of maps, matches and lighters, a signal mirror and flares, an assortment of guns and knives, and various tool boxes—and in one corner a stack of books, mostly detective stories and survival guides, ranging from
How To Survive WWIII
to
How To Survive a Zombie Apocalypse
. You could never be too careful.

These things took up every available free space, and Gabriel kept looking at them long and hard. Kieran coughed as he passed the man to close the trapdoor and hatch, speaking quickly to explain. “This is the South. Home of the survival enthusiasts. This place is set for a long-term shelter even though we won’t stay long. There’s an internal power generator, running water, even working plumbing. We won’t starve, and no one is going to blast their way in here in a hurry, not through these walls or that hatch. We’re safe for now.” Kieran headed for the bathroom to check everything was in order, just to keep himself busy. “Make yourself at home. Might I suggest, uh, taking a shower? I have several changes of clothing. Some might even be in your size.”

Gabriel spoke from behind Kieran again, which drove him up the wall, but from the sound of his voice, he hadn’t moved from the entrance. “Is the hatch the only way in or out?”

“No.” Kieran was aware he sounded curt and rude, but he needed a breather and some space to reflect on all that had happened in the span of half a day. “You gonna take that shower or what?”

“Thank you.” Gabriel was equally short, but his tone was, as always, deep and relaxed, and his gratitude seemed sincere.

Kieran made sure the water ran and the sink didn’t flood. “The water’s lukewarm and the spray isn’t very strong, but it should be enough for our immediate needs.”

Backing out of the tiny room, Kieran bumped into Gabriel, who had come closer. The solid heat of the cowboy’s tall, broad body caused Kieran’s breath to hitch in his throat, his palms to sweat, and his cock to spring to life so fast his vision was spotty and hazy.

Murmuring vague, smothered apologies, Kieran swallowed and sidestepped Gabriel in a hurry. If Gabriel noticed any of Kieran’s reactions, he didn’t show or acknowledge it in any way. “I’ll, uh, bring you a towel and something to change into, okay?” he hollered as he moved off and found what he needed quickly enough.

“Thank you,” Gabriel repeated, his voice audible over the slow sprinkling trickle of the shower spray.

For an interminable time, Kieran just stood there in the dead center of the underground bunker, holding a natural white terry towel, brown sweats, and red T-shirt in his trembling hands, unable to take the necessary steps to walk into that bathroom—where Gabriel would be standing naked in the shower. Panting hard, both aroused and panicky, Kieran felt his heart hammering in his chest. For perhaps the first time in his life he was frozen in place, not knowing what to do.