Page 28 of Four Calling Birds

Goose looked at me, and I shrugged, unsure what to say. I should have told her, but I’m a coward, and this was going to sting. I guess I thought Goose could lessen the blow with his presence, but that was also a pretty dick move on my part.

“Sandy… she…” Goose pinched the space beneath his eyes, trying to stymie the tears threatening to spill over. “She passed away a couple of years ago.”

“Oh my God!” I knew it would all crash on her at once. “What happ—” She shut her mouth, realizing that she already knew. We all did. Sandy had been haunted by a darkness Goose couldn’t save her from. “I’m so sorry.”

Goose squeezed her shoulder and gave her an appreciative smile. Then he shook off his own darkness, plastering a smile on his lips.

“I’m glad to see you, Momma Mack.” He looked around, taking in his surroundings. “Also, glad to be operating again! Is the gang all here?”

“Not quite,” I answered, as my phone pinged another intruder coming up the road. Though this one didn’t need the alert. I heard the motorcycle long before it arrived. I only neededoneguess to know what insane human being would be riding a motorcycle in the middle of a frosty New York Winter, and it was the banshee known as Taz Guerro.

Clad in black from head to toe, she rode on an onyx Ducati like a messenger of doom. She stopped her bike with a skid, her thick, black booted foot landing on the gravel. She turned off the beast she rode, and pulled off her helmet. She smiled at me, shaking out her jet-black that had been knotted in a long braid.

“Hey, Top,” she said with a small wave. “Goose! You old son of a bitch! I’m surprised to not see a gaggle of brats hanging around your neck.” She punched him in the stomach. “You eating for two, or what?”

Goose rubbed his slightly growing belly. Truthfully, he had gained some weight and probably didn’t have a six pack anymore, but he was still far from having anything like a Dad Bod.

“I’m busy,” he said with a chagrined smile. “Not all of us can be all free-spirited, unattached and shit.”

“Sounds like ayouproblem, my friend.”

“Fact!” Goose said, giving her a finger gun point, before he ran a hand through his growing blonde hair.

She finally turned to Lotte, and stood stock still. I had told her she was here. But I don’t think the reality of my words had ever settled with her. It rarely did, until she came face to face with something. She wasn’t much of an auditory learner, I suppose. You could tell her something a million times, but until it was ready to punch her in the face, she did not give a shit about it.

“Charlotte McClanahan,” she said, with a curt, impersonal nod.

“Taz…” Lotte said, folding a little on herself. I knew she wanted to reach out and hug the girl. They had been as thick as thieves once. Not quite best friends. They were more like that mom and daughter on that one show… Geller Girls or something like that.

Taz went to her bike, opening a large black cargo container, and pulled out a duffel not that dissimilar from Veder’s. Hers was black, though. Custom painted with white skulls. The girl was into expressing herself, that’s for sure. Whether it was paint on her clothes, or ink on her skin.

“I came packing,” she said, meaning guns. “But I assume you’ve got enough ammo to ford off a zombie apocalypse. So do we have a plan?”

“I’ve got a defense plan, yeah,” I said. “But first, we’ll eat. Griff isn’t here yet.”

“What kind of security plan do you have?” she pushed.

“CCTV and motion detectors that will alert you across the property. I’ll have it routing to your phones, while you guys chow down.” She stepped into the house without my invitation, and ignored the forlorn, longing look on Lotte’s face.

My poor wife was feeling stung by the rejection. Too hurt to see that Taz’s “all business” demeanor was her way of coping with a past hurt. If Lotte just touched her, her hard shell would melt like an easter egg with a soft center, and she’d be putty in her hands. But that was something they’d need to figure out on their own.

“Guerro!” I called after her. She paused in the foyer, turning her head towards me. Since I used her last name instead of her nickname, she knew I meant business. “Eat first. I know you and VD probably didn’t eat at all today, and I need you at your fighting best.” I nodded to Goose. “He’s probably had nothing but cheerios, and not been able to sit down to eat for the last couple years. Don’t be a dick.”

“Ugh! Come on, if we’re supposed to mount a defense…” She rolled her eyes like a teenager.

“We implement a rest plan, consult about logistics, and take care of our bodies and minds first. Then we can talk about the actual intel.” Brett Bradley had sent me what information he could, dumping it onto a secure server. Some things were blacked out for security, but I got a clear enough picture of what I was fighting against, and which one of those Scorpio network punks were in our area.

I’d get the print outs and give them to Taz, so she could devour it while she ate. Let her avoid any awkward dinner conversation…

What was I going to do about VD and Griff? I wasn’t sure.

17. What are you Thankful For?

Lotte

Iwashappytohave most of his team back around the table. I had missed them. Even if Taz still pretended that I didn’t exist, it was still nice to see her. To see she was breathing, and in somewhat good health.

“Are you still hungry Greg?” I asked, coming over with the pan of duck meat, which he had consumed in one large inhale. The boy was starving.

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