Believe: The Complete Channie Series (115 page)

Hunter nudged Josh with his elbow and grinned. “Moonshine.”

Too choked up to verbally acknowledge the generosity of these people, Josh nodded his thanks. When they reached the cleft between the cliffs, a small girl, no more than four or five years old, ran up to him. She clutched a filthy cloth doll to her chest then thrust it towards Josh. “Comfy wants you to be her daddy.”

“Comfy?”

The little girl’s lower lip trembled. It was obvious the doll meant the world to the child. “It’s short for Comfort.”

Josh squatted down until he was eye-level with her. “And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Generosity, but ever-body calls me Gen.”

Josh took the doll and held it next to his ear. “What’s that, Comfy?” He nodded. “I see. Yes, I agree. That’s a very good idea.” He kissed the doll’s tangled yarn hair then handed it back to Gen. “She wants to visit me whenever I’m in camp, but she’s not ready to leave her mommy. She still needs you. Can you take care of her for me while I’m gone?”

Gen snatched the doll out of Josh’s hands then threw her arms around his neck. “We’ll be right here, waitin’ and watchin’ for ya.”

A young woman, not more than eighteen years old, tugged Gen out of his arms. “Sorry for the bother. She’s been talking’ bout you nonstop ever since your speech at dinner yesterday, but I never suspected she’d have the gumption to run right up and start a conversation. She’s been real shy around strangers ever since her daddy passed.”

“It’s no bother.” He hoped the young woman was Gen’s sister or aunt. If she were the kid’s mother, she would’ve had to have gotten pregnant when she was barely more than a kid herself. Josh swallowed around the lump in his throat as he thought about Channie. She was only sixteen—too young to be a mother. He needed to let her know she had other options, but he already loved their unborn baby. He couldn’t bear the thought of terminating the pregnancy. Josh ran a hand over the back of Gen’s head, smoothing her tangled hair. “Take good care of Comfy for me, and come see me when I get back.”

Gen popped a thumb in her mouth and nodded.

Hunter cleared his throat. “We need to git gone.”

Josh nodded then ducked his head to hide the smile tugging on the corners of his mouth when he noticed Hunter’s glistening eyes.

REFUGEES

W
HISTLER
’
S
G
ULCH
WAS
A
LONG
hike in the wrong direction, but it was worth it to go get Hunter’s motorcycle. “Why didn’t you just drive it to the shack?”

“The road’s too rough. I didn’t want to risk messing up my bike.”

When they stepped out of the forest and onto the blacktop road leading into Whistler’s Gulch, Hunter stopped and turned to face Josh. “Sheriff Black’s an empty, but he’s slimier than a water moccasin in a stagnant pond and more dangerous than a tracker. Let me do all the talking.”

“Whatever.” All Josh cared about was getting on the bike and off his feet. His Air Force Ones might look super cool but they weren’t designed for long-distance hiking. The skin over both his Achilles tendons was rubbed raw.
I wish it didn’t hurt so much.
The pain diminished. Josh felt like smacking himself for not thinking of it sooner. He pictured his feet, without any blisters or raw patches, and sent a burst of magic down his legs. The pain disappeared.

Sheriff Black answered the door wearing nothing but a pair of dingy briefs and a holstered gun. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again, boy.”

“I’m here to get my motorcycle.”

Sheriff Black scratched his crotch. “Guarding that bike of yours was a lot more trouble than I expected.”

“The three hundred dollars I gave you was for a month’s rent. I was barely gone a week.”

“I had to chase off all sorts of unsavory characters. If I’d a known you had a price on your head, I never would have agreed to it at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There was two fellas just yesterday that offered me a hundred dollars just for telling ‘em how long you been gone and which direction you was headed.”

Josh’s heart skipped a beat.
Trackers.
“What did you tell them?”

Sheriff Black jerked his head towards Josh, seemingly surprised to find him standing on his porch, even though he’d been there the whole time. He narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

Josh glared at the man as power stirred in his gut.
You don’t want to mess with me. I’m dangerous.

Hunter’s eyes darted nervously between Josh and the sheriff. “Just unlock the garage and give us the bike. We don’t want no trouble.”

Sheriff Black snatched a set of keys off a small table and tossed them to Hunter then slammed the door in their faces.

Hunter cussed under his breath as he stomped off towards the garage. “I thought I told you to let me do the talking.”

“You were taking too long.”

“Thanks to you pissing him off, he’s probably calling some tracker right now to tell ‘em we’re here.”

“I’m willing to bet he made the call before he opened the door. We need to get out of here.”

The key ring had at least two dozen keys on it. Hunter’s hands shook as he tried key after key.

“Stand back.” Josh pulled his sapphire out from under his shirt and pointed it at the t-shaped handle of the garage door. The metal glowed white-hot then slid to the ground in a molten puddle—just as he’d envisioned it. Cool.

“Whoa.” Hunter’s eyes widened as a grin spread across his face. “You ain’t supposed to be able to do that.”

Josh palmed the door and pushed up, lifting it a few inches. “Give me a hand.”

Hunter squatted down and slid his fingers under the door then raised it with a groan. His eyes lit up as a slanted ray of sunlight spotlighted the bike. He ran his hands over the leather seat and bright green frame.

Josh was glad to see the key in the ignition. Melting a lock was one thing, hot wiring a motorcycle would require a little more finesse. “Quit making out with your bike and let’s get out of here!”

Hunter rocked it off the kickstand and rolled it outside before straddling the beast and firing it up. He pointed at a green helmet, still in the garage. “I only got one lid. I’d let you wear it, but I need the visor to keep bugs from blinding me.”

“We’ll worry about getting me a helmet once we’re sure we don’t have any trackers on our ass.” Josh swung his right leg over the bike and settled in behind Hunter.

“Hang on.”

Josh changed his mind about the helmet situation when Hunter goosed the throttle, lifting the front wheel off the ground. But there was no way to communicate over the roar of the bike.

When Josh saw the exit sign for Thayer, Missouri on Highway 142, he tapped on the back of Hunter’s helmet and pointed at the sign.

Hunter nodded and pulled off the highway, but left the bike running. “What’s wrong?”

“This looks like a decent sized town. Find a motorcycle dealership. I want to buy a helmet.”

Hunter dropped Josh off then went off on his own to fill up the bike and grab a couple of Big Macs.

Josh picked out a full-face, Arai Signet-Q since its fit was closest to what he was used to wearing for BMX racing. The Arai was heavier, but all things considered, that was a good thing. He also purchased a rider/passenger intercom system so he and Hunter could talk to each other. Josh paid cash for everything then went outside and sat on the curb to install his half of the intercom inside his helmet and wait for Hunter.

He set his new helmet on the sidewalk and pulled out his phone. He wasn’t supposed to call Vince unless it was an emergency, but he didn’t have a clue how to find his clan. Besides, he wanted to know how Channie was doing.

Vince answered on the first ring.
“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. Sorry to alarm you, but we’ve had a slight change of plans.”

Vince wasn’t happy about ‘babysitting sleeping beauty’ while Josh and Hunter were ‘cavorting all over the countryside.’

“You think I like this?” Josh took a deep breath to get himself back under control. Yelling into the phone wasn’t going to do anyone any good. “I’d gladly trade places with you, but I can’t. I have to ‘seek out my clan and the gifts they bestow.’ The Book of the Dead was very explicit.”

“Yes, it was. So explain to me why Channie’s mother is still breathing.”

Josh gritted his teeth. “Wisdom thinks she can cure her.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know… Maybe? Okay, probably not, but according to the book, I’m not supposed to kill her until I’ve cleansed my heart of spite and hate.”

“The fact that you didn’t kill her immediately proves that you already have.”

“I told Wisdom I’d give her two weeks. Can you maintain the protection spells around Channie a little longer? If you can’t, I’ll call Shep and tell him to go help you.”

“Just do what you need to do then call me when Prudence is no longer a threat. I’d rather my daughter-in-law not hate me.”

“Is she awake?”

“Not yet. Ezra is still trying to find a safe house that meets our needs.”

“Where are you keeping her?”

“At Ezra’s.”

“And you can’t wake her up?”

“You’re the one that cast the spell keeping her asleep until she’s in the safe house.”

“Is she waking up enough to eat? What about the baby? Can you check on him? Do a magical scan or something?” Josh couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought about the baby when he cast the spell. He held his breath, waiting for Vince to answer.

“She eats whatever I put in front of her and I make sure it’s nutritious. Only a master healer would consider scanning a baby in the first trimester and only if it was medically necessary. But as long as Channie’s healthy, the child will be fine. In fact, the extra rest is probably good for both of them, considering the stress she’s been under.

When Josh exhaled, his energy left with his breath. He felt as if he’d just won a close race—relieved and completely drained. “How many Veyjivik rebels do you think I need to find to satisfy the Book of the Dead?”

“Trust yourself. Be strong, yet humble.”

“You don’t need to quote the Book of the Dead to me. I know what it says.”

“And you’ll know when you’ve met its demands.”

“Do you have anyone I could call to get things started?”

“I’ll call Rider and set up a meeting.”

A sudden wave of vertigo forced Josh to sit on the curb. He recognized the sign as a precursor to a major flashback. They slammed into him, one after the other.

Rider taunts him with freedom if he can win a race against his horse. Fear, worse than any he’d ever felt before, consumes him. He has to protect Channie.

He flies down the mountain, racing a horse. If he wins, Rider will let him live. If he loses, he’ll kill him. ‘Protect Channie,’ is his only thought—his only hope.

He sails off a blind cliff, snapping his wrist.

Rider breaks his back.

A gun fires. He runs up the mountain and finds Jimmy dead on the ground, Channie pressing both hands against Hunter’s right shoulder. Bright, red, arterial blood pulses out between her fingers. She looks up at Josh. Tears stream down her face, carving trails of white through the blood. “Help me.”

The roar of Hunter’s motorcycle snapped Josh back to the present. A rush of energy burned away the residual disorientation from the flashbacks. He slipped his phone into his pocket and motioned for Hunter to join him.

Hunter cut the engine, tucked his helmet under his arm and trotted over.

Josh pointed at the open box containing the intercom system. “Look what I got for us.”

“Sweet!” Hunter got right to work. He didn’t even look at the directions, but had his intercom installed and working in less than half the time it had taken Josh.

“You seem to have a knack for electronics.”

“I’ve always liked to figure out how things work and fit together. But this was easy.”

Josh’s phone buzzed. The number was blocked, so he assumed it was Rider, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He pressed a finger against his lips and made sure Hunter was paying attention then put it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Is this Jet?”

“Yeah.” Josh spoke before thinking. He probably shouldn’t have identified himself so quickly. And how did this guy know his racing nickname? “Who are you?”

“The man that gave you the race of your life.”

“Rider?”

“Yep. Where’re you at, boy?”

“Thayer, Missouri.”

“What kind of transportation you got? Please tell me you ain’t on a bicycle.”

Hunter never missed an opportunity to brag about his bike, so Josh knew the make and model without having to ask. “Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R.”

Rider whistled, obviously impressed.
“Meet me at the north end of the Walmart parking lot in Bowling Green, Kentucky at four o’clock.”

Hunter cocked his head and gazed off into the distance. He mumbled under his breath as he touched each finger of his right hand with his thumb. “Three hundred and eighty miles to Bowling Green. Ninety miles an hour on the straights. Half that on the curves. Minus one fuel stop and speed traps.”

Hunter snapped out of his mathematical trance and silently mouthed, “Two o’clock.”

Josh nodded. “We can be there by two.”

“Well, I cain’t.”

Josh didn’t see any reason to sit around and wait for Rider to arrive. “Can we meet you somewhere closer to your current location?”

“Bowling Green has a large population of influential and disgruntled mages ready for a change of leadership.”

“We’ll be there at four.” Josh ended the call and buried his phone in his backpack. “I can’t believe you figured all that out in your head.”

The corners of Hunter’s mouth turned down as he locked his gaze on Josh’s eyes. “I might be uneducated, but I ain’t stupid.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m actually impressed. I couldn’t do all that without a calculator, or at least a pencil and paper.”

Hunter’s easy grin returned. He twisted his mouth to the side as he shook his head. “I ain’t offended.”