Reaper (20 page)

“We’ve survived Armageddon,” Brian said with a small grin when he saw Zack.

“Now comes part two,” Zack replied, as some of the homeless kids, who had been outside before the invasion, began to reappear. Soon Brian and his staff were busy dealing with them.

“Time for us to get out of here,” Zack said to Dallas. “I have to get to work, and you—”

“Get to go home and enjoy the rest of my day off.”

“What about us?” Zip asked.

“Go help out,” Nate told him. “I think they could use a hand.”

“Hang on.” Zack beckoned for the Rattlers to follow him back outside. “Tonight, you’re coming with us,” he told them when they were assembled on the sidewalk a few yards from the shelter’s front door.

The teens looked both excited and scared. “Where do we meet?” Raven asked.

“Before you tell her, Zack, are you and him”—Nate nodded toward Dallas—“in shape yet?”

“I’ll use the cast to cold-cock any punks we run into,” Dallas said with a grin, earning him a disgusted look from Zack.

“I’m doing okay,” Zack told Nate. “As you can see, I’m not on the crutches. I am taking it easy, but I can walk, obviously. I’ll just be an observer if anything goes down.”

Nate nodded. “I’ll come along too—to observe.”

“Thanks,” Zack replied. “How about we all meet at one a.m. behind the old shelter building?”

“Cool,” Sway said. “Now can we go back inside? There’s food, and I’m starving.”

Laughing, Zack told them all to move it before there was nothing left to eat.

“See you tonight,” Nate said as they walked to where they’d parked their cars.

Since Dallas had done the driving, he dropped Zack off at the office, telling him he’d be back at five to pick him up, then he went home.

* * * *

“Remember,” Reaper said, “the idea is to stop the predators before they do any real damage to whoever they’re attacking.” He looked at each of the Rattlers one by one, getting nods in return. “Use their own weapons against them whenever possible. The element of surprise is crucial. Usually they will be so intent on hurting their victim, they won’t realize you’re there until it’s too late, if you move in silently.”

“I have this,” Sway said, taking a small knife from his jacket pocket.

Colly also had one that he showed Reaper.

“Only use them if things become serious, like they did at the warehouse. The basic idea is to either scare the punks into giving up and leaving, or disarming them. Without”—again he looked from Rattler to Rattler—“getting hurt yourselves.”

“You knew the basics,” Nate put in. “I taught you a few more tricks. Use them and you’ll come out on top.”

“One last thing,” Wrath said. “No matter how pissed off you are—and you will be—you have to remember you’re there to save the victim. Do
not
to take out your hatred of all the bastards who prey on kids like you by beating the ones you run into to a pulp if you get the chance. Strip them of the bats or whatever they’re using, chase them off then help the victim.”

“Okay, enough lecturing,” Reaper said. “You have two choices. All four of you go out together, or you break into two teams. My suggestion is two and two. You can cover more area that way, and you’ll be less conspicuous.” When the teens decided on teams, Reaper said, “Good. I’ll go with you two.” He pointed to Zip and Colly. “Wrath will stick with Raven and Sway. Nate?” He looked at him.

Nate glanced at Wrath’s cast and replied, “That’s a no-brainer. I’m with him and his.”

Wrath grinned. “Hey, I told you my cast is a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Get that out of your head right now,” Reaper muttered. “Besides which, we’re only observing. This is the Rattlers game now.”

“Not a game,” Zip said seriously. “This is for real.”

“Yeah, it is. Never forget that,” Reaper agreed. “Okay, let’s do it. We’ll meet back here at dawn.”

* * * *

“Slow night, not that there’s a damned thing wrong with that,” Reaper said, when he and the others reconvened just as the sun was coming up.

“We did stop two guys roughing up a kid who was dealing,” Sway said. “Seems like they didn’t want to pay for their weed. We taught them—as my bitch of a mom used to put it—the error of their ways.”

“We didn’t stop someone from getting hurt… Well, maybe we did. There was a girl, about sixteen, with a younger one, maybe ten. I think the older one was keeping the kid safe, you know.” Zip told the others. “So anyway, this son of a bitch older dude in a car pulls over, gets out and starts following them, and they know he’s there and duck into an alley, which wasn’t too smart ’cause he starts to go after them. We got in his face, had a little talk with him, chased him off,” Zip said proudly.

“Then we found them, told them about the shelter. Not sure they’ll go there, but…” Colly added with a shrug. “We did try.”

“That’s the best you could have done,” Nate said, patting his back.

Reaper nodded. “And with luck, the guy will think twice before trolling the neighborhood again.”

“You know what?” Raven said. “We should get berets like those guys in…somewhere or another, have.”

Wrath shook his head. “You’re trying
not
to stand out.”

“Yeah? Well, look at how Reaper did it before you joined him. All leather and tough looking.”

“But that was just me out on my own,” Reaper pointed out. “You guys do something to show you’re out there being protectors and you’ll become targets for every punk who’s looking for trouble.”

“So? Then we deal with them. That’s the idea. Right?”

“Do you think you can handle four or five ganging up on you, because they don’t like that you’re around, ruining their fun?”

Raven sighed. “Probably not. Okay, we’ll keep it on the down low.”

Reaper smiled. “Good. Now who’s hungry? I’m buying.” He wasn’t in the least surprised when all the Rattlers cheered, so they went to Frank’s Place, ate, then they split up.

The teens headed to Off-the-Street, hoping to be able to crash there for the day.

Nate gave them a high-five before they left, saying, “You guys did even better than I hoped. I’m proud of you. And now, I’m off to catch a couple of hours sleep.”

“Wish we could do that,” Reaper said with a rueful smile before he and Dallas headed back to the house to change clothes and go to their day jobs.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Home sweet home,” Dallas said, a month after the Rattlers first foray into protecting the homeless of Uptown. He settled next to Zack on the sofa with a sigh of relief.

Zack grinned, giving him a kiss. “Tired?” When Dallas nodded, Zack told him, “Then rest and unwind. We have nothing that needs doing until morning.”

“Do you miss the excitement?” Dallas asked.

“It’s only been two weeks since we stopped keeping an eye on the kids and hung it up for good. Right now, I’m enjoying being able to spend a lot more time with you.”

Dallas arched one eyebrow. “Only right now? Do you expect that to change in the near future?”

“What do you think?” Zack asked, pulling him against his chest.

Dallas turned his head to look at him. “I think that was a stupid question.”

“It was,” Zack agreed before kissing him soundly. “As for your original question. Yeah, I do a little, but not enough to go back to it again. The kids are doing a good job. They don’t need us hanging around. Besides, I’m too old to be out playing vigilante.”

“You’re only as old as you feel up here,” Dallas said, tapping Zack’s forehead.

“Tell that to my body,” Zack grumbled.

“Trust me. There’s nothing wrong with your body. I should know. I see it every day. It’s almost perfect.”

“For an older—”

Dallas stopped him with a kiss before saying, “Will you quit with that? You’re forty-one, not ninety.” Resting his head on Zack’s shoulder, he looked off into space for a long moment. “You know what you need? What we
both
need?”

“Do I want to know?”

“Maybe. I was thinking, how about we take a vacation? We’ve never done that. Between our jobs and your nighttime activities, it just didn’t happen. Now it can, if you’re willing.”

“You can get the time off?”

“Yep. I’ve got two weeks of vacation time this year, and that doesn’t count what I’ve accrued over the last few years that I haven’t used.”

Zack chuckled. “So you could get a whole month or three?”

“Technically, but I don’t think the lieutenant would go for that.”

“Probably not. Okay, you find out when, and we’ll go from there. I can take my laptop with us in case any of my clients need to consult me.”

“No. Way. In. Hell! This is going to be a
real
vacation. Not a working one. If your clients can’t fend for themselves for a week…”

“I know,” Zack said, giving him a hug. “I was teasing—mostly.”

“Good. But just to be certain, I’m going to find us somewhere to go that doesn’t have wireless service.”

“Not possible.”

“Bet me.” Dallas got up and went into their home office to boot up the computer. He typed in ‘vacation spots with no cell phone service’ in the search engine.

Zack watched, shaking his head. “Bet you don’t find anything.”

“What are you willing to bet?”

“I’ll take you out to dinner tonight to ’our favorite Italian restaurant if I’m wrong.”

“You’re on.” Hitting the search icon, Dallas grinned when the first page of dozens popped up. He clicked on the top item and when it opened, he scrolled through the suggestions. “How do you feel about boats? Not cruises but sailing?”

“Never tried it.”

“So that’s one idea.” Dallas continued scrolling. “Or this one.” He tapped the screen.

Zack read what it said and nodded. “Now that I like—a lot.”

“Then let’s do it.” Dallas grinned. “You owe me dinner. And”—his grinned widened—“this place has an added advantage. It’s only half a day from my parent’s house.”

“You set me up,” Zack muttered, but he was smiling.

“Only a little.”

Dallas got his dinner.

Three weeks later, the pair would take off on their first-ever vacation together.

* * * *

“So this is the infamous Zack.” The man standing on the front porch of the small, white-shingled house had his arms crossed over his chest as he studied Zack.

“I am, sir,” Zack replied, shooting a worried look at Dallas.

“George,” the petite, gray-haired woman standing beside him admonished. “Behave, and be friendly.” She hurried down the stairs to hug Dallas. “It’s about time you brought him home to meet us.”

George Comstock grinned, coming down to join his wife. “I figured I should at least make an attempt to play the worried father, meeting his son’s—I believe the term these days is significant other. It’s good to finally meet you, Zack.”

He held out his hand, and Zack shook it.

“The pretty lady, as I’m certain you’ve surmised, is Pattie, my wife.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir.”

“It’s George, and don’t you forget it,” George grumbled. “We don’t stand on formalities around here.”

“And you had best call me Pattie,” Mrs. Comstock told Zack. “Or Mom, like Dallas does.” She smiled at her son. “You are being way too quiet. Cat got your tongue?”

“Nope. Just wanted to let the three of you do the intro thing without my interfering. So”—he hugged his mother—“I don’t suppose you have any coffee made. I’m dying here.”

“Only because you wouldn’t stop when I suggested we get some,” Zack told him.

“I wanted us to get here before you backed out and commandeered the car to take us straight to the lake.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Dallas grinned as they followed his parents into the house. “You were thinking about it.”

“Was not.”

“Boys, quit arguing,” Pattie said. “I have coffee, and some of the strudel you like so much, Dallas.” She led the way into the kitchen then urged them to sit.

“Now that you’re finally here, Zack,” George said while they waited for Pattie to make coffee and set out plates for the strudel, “tell us all about yourself. All Dallas has said it that you’re an investment counselor, and that you two started living together soon after you met. Well…” George smiled. “He went into a bit more detail than that, but not by much.”

“For instance, he never told us much about your family. Where do they live and have they met Dallas?” Pattie asked.

Zack looked at Dallas for help.

“I didn’t tell you about them,” Dallas said, “because they’re not part of his life and haven’t been for a long time.”

“They’re dead. Oh, dear. I’m so sorry, Zack,” Pattie said, giving him a quick hug.

“No, they’re still alive as far as I know,” Zack replied. After taking a deep breath, he explained why.

When Zack finished, there was a long silence.

Then George replied, “From the sound of it, you’re much better off without them. You’ve made something of yourself and should be proud that you did. We can’t, not to be trite, choose our family. We can choose to do the best possible with the life we’ve been given, and from what Dallas has told us about you, you’ve done exactly that.”

“Thank you,” Zack said. “I owe a lot of it to Dallas.” He took Dallas’ hand, squeezing it.

Dallas snorted. “You were already rich and famous when I met you.”

“Rich?” George looked at Zack, a twinkle in his eye. “So you’re able to keep our son in the life he was never accustomed to?”

Everyone broke into laughter at that. Then Pattie poured the coffee, put out the strudel, and they spent the rest of the morning with Dallas and his parents catching up on what had happened since the last time they’d talked. They also showed Zack around the house.

“This is the jewelry box I told you about,” Dallas said at one point. “The one I made Mom in woodshop.

Since it was a simple hinged box with carved leaves on the top and sides, Zack knew it must mean a lot to her to have it sitting on her dressing table all these years later.

“I’ve treasured it like it was made of pure gold,” Pattie told Zack proudly.

“Well you should.” For a moment, Zack felt a tug of self-pity that his life hadn’t been such that he could have made something like it for his mother—and have her display it as proudly as Pattie did the jewelry box. Then he pushed that to the back of his mind where it belonged.