Seal of Solomon (Journeyman Book 2) (3 page)

JOEY PACED BACK
and forth relentlessly in front of his bedroom window, pulling back the sheer curtain to get a better view of the yard below. Everything was covered in a plastic-like sheen from the recent downpour. Everything but the people he was waiting for.

“Where are they?” he muttered restlessly, as if this weren’t the hundredth time asking himself that. He stomped over to the nightstand and plucked his phone off the charger. Seventeen outgoing calls made to Adrienne’s phone, with no answer since the brilliant light had filled the western sky. Fifteen attempts to Gage’s phone, with no answer since all of the Lodge’s supernatural detection instruments went haywire, half now inoperable due to the massive energy surge.

Joey stared at the lock screen, poised to swipe it open. What the hell, it was worth another shot. Not like a sixteenth attempt could hurt, right? Joey slid his fingers across the glass and dialed out Gage’s number. Lifting the phone to his ear, he impatiently waited for one of them to pick up.

Ring… Ring…

This was going to be just like the other calls.

Ring
…
Ring
…

There was no answer, except for the automated voice message system and Joey was sick of hearing that bitch’s snooty robotic voice. With a groan and a few colorful words about where she could stick the message after the beep, he hung up and slammed the phone back on the tabletop.

“Ugh,” he moaned. “This isn’t good at all.” He flung himself onto the mattress, bouncing a couple times before bringing his hands up through his copious amounts of hair. A few stray strands dangled enticingly in front of his face, so he yanked them into his mouth and started chewing nervously. It was a bad habit for sure, but one that worked to calm his nerves.

“They have to have gotten in some shit – gotta be the reason. A big, stinking pile of demon shit!”

Joey thought he heard a noise outside – a door slam? Racing back to the window, he eagerly looked out to discover it was nothing more than his overactive and hopeful imagination.

Settle down man! You’re going to drive yourself crazy with all of this thinking! Well, more than you already have.

He sat up on the window sill, dipping his head, and sighed. Slowly, his shadow grew on the far wall as the room started to light up. He spun around, half expecting to see nothing again but there were two headlights coming up the drive. In a flash Joey was heading downstairs, stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed frame in the rush.

“Gage!” he shouted, dashing out of the front door. It slammed loudly behind him. “Ady! Do you two have ANY idea how much anxiety you’ve put me through? I'm definitely refilling my scripts after this! I mean I’ve only been calling for -”

He stopped short of the truck; it wasn’t Gage’s. Instead of the GMC, a vintage wrecker – replete with tarnish and rust – had pulled up in the driveway. There were two figures inside, shadows behind the brightness of the high beams.

Joey shaded his view, trying to get a better look, just as the driver’s door opened. A man leaped out, hitting the gravel with the thick rubber soles of his steel toed boots.

“Who are you?” Joey asked sternly, the shadowy fellow walking slowly around to the front of the truck. There wasn't an immediate reply. “Answer me!” he pressed heatedly.

“Relax, Joey,” the man retorted, stepping in front of the headlight. His hands were raised as features faded in and Joey recognized him right away.

It was Justin White, a handsome young man dressed in a backwards cap, tight work shirt, and very dark blue pants that might as well have been black. He was co-owner of White Line Towing Company along with his dad; the both of them happened to be Journeymen from up in the Huntsville area.

“Oh hey!” Joey said with a hint of excitement but a lot more concern, walking up to shake hands. Justin's grip was strong and his shirt notably strained over his large arms. “Can't be too cautious these days. It's good to see you though! Been far too long.”

“You too, Joey,” he replied, scratching his beard. His tone was subdued, as though he had little bit more to say.

Joey caught it. “So…what brings you up this way?” he asked.

Justin exhaled and turned his cap around, playing apprehensively with the brim. “I was heading back up to H-town this morning after getting through a few jobs,” he said, continuing to fidget with his hands before forcing his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “Normal jobs that is, not the kind we’re used to doing on the side.”

Nervous chuckles came from both men.

“Anyway,” Justin carried on, “that’s when I found it off in the median, though I don't think you'll recognize her.” Without another word, he took out a thumb and hiked it back toward the flatbed.

Joey bent his neck and caught glimpses of wadded metal and broken glass, the distinct brown and whites he knew mixed in with the mess. His heart sank and emotions swelled.

“What the hell happened?” Joey asked in a sad daze.

“Everyone, including a state trooper, was just driving on by as if nothing was there on the side of the road. I immediately suspected something was up ‘cause normally traffic is backed up for miles by rubberneckers long before emergency services arrive. Now, I could see the wreck plain as day through my windshield, but after I pulled over and rolled the window down, it vanished. You guys definitely had warding or some kind of spell on there, so I threw on Dad’s spectral shades to take a walk about. That’s when I found him, just sitting at the wheel, staring.”

“Who?” asked Joey, though he already knew the answer.

There was a loud
creak
as the passenger door swung open and large man dropped out, wobbling a slight bit before regaining his balance.

Joey just watched, dumbfounded, as Gage shuffled toward him. God he looked like shit. His hair was soaked with ruddy fluids and stuck messily to his forehead while his clothes, just as soiled, hung off in long tatters. When he got close, Joey caught a bitter whiff of sulfur and bile, replacing the enticing musk he typically exuded. It was enough to singe the inside of his nostrils and trigger a sneeze.

Gage put out a hand to tap his buddy a few times on the shoulder, opening his mouth as if to say something. Nothing but a rough cough hacked its way out and he continued on toward the front door.

Joey followed him, eyes locked with a deep crevice between them. “Gage?”

“Water… thirsty,” he replied, voice cracked like a desert landscape. Gage trundled in a daze up the stairs.

The creases deepened as Joey turned back to speak with Justin, “That was weird… even for Gage. I've never seen him this way before. He seems lost. So I’m actually really scared to ask, but is Adrienne with you too?”

“Adrienne?” Justin repeated, catching his friend’s downturned lips. “No, I’m sorry Joey. Gage was alone when I found him.”

“What?” Joey snipped, his mouth staying agape. He was unable to comprehend what he just heard. “Did you just say that he was alone?”

“Yes,” Justin reiterated. “All alone and shook up really bad. From what little bits he told me on the way over, he’s seen a lot these past few days. Enough to terrorize the best of us.”

“But Ady…” Joey implored.

“Not with him.”

Joey tried but couldn’t process this at all. She was like a sister to him; a rock in troublesome times. Where the hell was she? Had she been captured or… worse?

Gage would know. He had to know.

“Well,” Joey resumed, trying to get back to business, “how much do we owe you for the tow?”

Justin waved a hand indifferently. “Nah man. Gage’s been through more than any single JM I know. Hell, there's been a time or two when he's showed up just in the fucking nick of time to pull my ass out of the fire. And Pop’s too, though he'd probably not admit it. No charge, Joey and no, don't you try and argue. Now look here, I’ll offload the ol’ truck and you go tend to your friend. He needs it, now more than ever.”

Joey shook Justin’s hand again. “Thank you, for everything,” he said, before springing up the stairs and into the house.

A few seconds later he slowed down, stepping gently into the kitchen. There was a wide silhouette sitting with its back toward him. The light from the little bulb above the sink was flickering away as it always did, sending jittery shadows around the room. Joey glanced around, carrying that same sense of unease in his gut.

Gage had his eyes shut, sitting with his head nestled deep in his palms at the table where all three of them had eaten breakfast less than a week ago. He remembered it so intensely that it could have happened that very morning, the phantom smells of bacon and eggs still in the air. But that was in the unchangeable past and the wood burning stove sat empty in the present, as did the chair Adrienne would normally sit in.

“Gage…” came Joey’s voice from behind. “Where is Ady?”

“She’s… gone,” he replied, sniffing. Otherwise he didn’t move.

“How did it happen?” Joey probed, knowing full well that now was not the best time for interrogations, but his desire to know outweighed his sense of reason.

“J… I can't right now,” Gage implored.

“But...”

“Joey, not right now!”

What the? How dare you keep this information to yourself?
Joey thought inconsiderately, his own feelings cresting.
I knew her for much longer than you, you goddamn ass!

“Gage, fucking tell me!” Joey screamed. It came out much louder than he expected.

Gage was holding onto his own emotions by a thread and at any point he was poised to snap. That point was now.

“I LOST HER, OKAY!” he roared. Shooting to his feet, he kicked back his chair and it fell over with a tremendous crash. His fists slammed against the tabletop, the water glass toppling. “I lost her…”

Joey had never seen Gage so enraged and it was absolutely frightening. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought him possessed. It was all Joey could muster to take the brief yet agonizing walk over to his friend. Slowly, he approached and rested a hand on his shoulder, expecting some form of punch, jerk, or yell in return. When there was no struggle at all, he followed through with the rest of his arm, wrapping it around him.

Gage turned and Joey could see the glimmer in his eyes and a trail of tears down his cheeks. They didn’t say anymore. There was no need to. They just stood there, hugging out their emotions in the dim light flickering above the sink.

THE NEXT MORNING,
Gage stood alone on the path adjacent to the lean-to, eyeing up the stacks of firewood stored underneath. They were parched like he still found his throat to be and crawling with insects, mainly fire ants from the mounds that sprung up just on the backside of the structure.

The sun had barely risen but it was already unseasonably warm and comfortable, so he was dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants and an older pair of heavy work shoes. He breathed in the country air, looking down to his inked chest. The gashes on his right pec had crusted over and finally seemed to have stopped their bleeding. Moving the amulet and chain out of the way, he traced the wounds with this index and middle fingers, fighting the urge to pick at the fresh scabs that itched relentlessly. The area stung, but he found the pain far less than it had been on his interminably dark drive back.

He shifted his view back over his shoulder to the Lodge, squinting as the sunlight cascaded through some of the trees. The sight of the cabin, coupled with the fact that Joey was there with him, comforted him greatly. Their long talk into the early hours about what had happened over the last couple days helped grow their bond, bringing them closer together than a month’s worth of missions. Also, as predicted, the protections they had in place over the property lessened the effects the amulet was having on him.

Yet despite all of this, Gage couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness. It was ever present, lurking like a tiger stalking prey in tall grass. He had given a part of himself to Adrienne and when she died in his arms, that portion was lost in the abyss that also destroyed his old home. Memories of her still burned brightly, there was no doubt of this, but mere remembrance paled in comparison to actual, tangible experiences.

Why the hell didn’t you act on your feelings much earlier, Gage?
he questioned of himself, lowering his head toward the dirt. A trail of ants marched their way across the path.
There would have been more time, more memories as a couple...

Perhaps that was a good thing, a proverbial blessing in disguise. He could only imagine the torment he would be feeling right now had they had years of memories together instead of the few moments they did share.

Who are you trying to fool, Gage?

The voice in his head was right of course. Indeed, he had known her – Joey as well – for over a year and he
did
have memories to fall back on, to mull over, and to cry over. They were like family to him and he knew that he would have the same damn feelings of regret and sadness if this had been Joey.

Speaking of his dark haired partner, Gage heard the front door close and saw him there on the front steps, stretching in nothing but a pair of snug red underwear. Gage propped himself up on the side of the lean-to, crossed his arms, and watched from afar.