Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)(74)

A bird called and another one answered. Gator sifted through the noises of the bayou and heard multiple heartbeats. Ian. Tucker. Maybe Wyatt or Kadan, although Kadan could mask the sound. The hunt had turned even deadlier. He fought his way out of the hole, taking care to distribute his weight evenly so as not to break through any more of the surface. It took time to drag himself out of the thick mud around the surface. Dirt and mud fell into the water widening the break through point, but he worked patiently to extract himself until he lay flat, arms and legs spread wide while he took in great gulps of fresh air.

Gator. Give me a signal to lock on to.

I took out one of them. There’s at least three more. The shielder is injured and they’re looking to run. He could sense the GhostWalkers dose now. They moved with stealth, but Kadan didn’t shield them, wanting Gator to know they were coming to him. He knew Kadan had locked on to him the moment he’d spoken telepathically. Relief swept through him. Not that long of time had passed since he’d left Flame, but it felt like a lifetime. He wanted to get her to a hospital immediately. With the other GhostWalkers there, they could sweep the area with quick efficiency and then get Flame medical attention.

They’ll be coming at you north, northwest.

We’re coming to you. Kadan’s voice was confident.

Gator rolled over and stared up at the pounding rain, allowing it to wash most of the sludge from his face. He lay for a short while to get control of the raging headache that always accompanied the use of psychic talent, before turning back onto his belly and scooting forward much like a lizard. He used small stops and starts, keeping his weight evenly distributed at all times until he gained solid ground.

Gator leapt to his feet and began his pursuit of the other soldiers. No one had answered his question, but they were enhanced and Rick Fielding had definitely been in the same room with him while he took the test to determine psychic talent. Gator had assumed, obviously erroneously, that Fielding hadn’t made the cut.

The GhostWalkers drifted out of the trees, pacing alongside of Gator, checking his condition out. Ian MacGillicuddy. Tucker Addison. Kadan Montague. They were in full combat gear and tossed him a rifle and several clips of ammunition.

“You okay?” Kadan asked. “I brought a medic kit.”

“Flame needs it. Alligator attack. It broke her arm, but she fought it off. We’ve got three men left here. One’s a definite shielder. I’m using low-frequency sound waves to keep them sick and disoriented so they don’t have a lot of fight in them. They just want to get the hell out, We need someone alive so we can follow them back to who ever is running them.”

They kept on the move, covering ground as fast as possible. “You’re certain these men aren’t part of Jack Norton’s team?”

Gator shook his head. “Jack’s team works mainly NCIS when they aren’t running ops. These men are more like mercenaries. I’d met one of them. His name was Rick Fielding. He took the test in the same group I did. I don’t know who they work for, but they aren’t very pleasant. And the dead one threatened Flame.”

Kadan shot him a quick glance. “No wonder he’s dead.”

The GhostWalkers spread out across the small island, several feet between them as they began to stalk their prey. The men ahead of them would have no choice but to keep moving or turn and fight. They wanted to regroup. And they didn’t want to take on a skilled army no matter how small it was. Gator continued to pulse low-frequency waves in front of them, not hard enough to kill, but to make the men sick.

“They’re splitting up,” Tucker announced, pointing to tracks. “Can you hear them, Gator?”

Gator shook his head. “Their shielder is strong. He’s been very resistant to the sound waves. I figured they’d split up. It’s the only chance they really have for any of them to get out.” With the sound waves coming at them, they knew if they split up, they had a better chance to elude the pulsing waves Gator was sending at them.

Ian indicated he was climbing He slung his rifle around his neck and went for the tallest cypress tree in their vicinity. As he climbed, Tucker, Kadan, and Gator looked over the tracks carefully.

“That’s the shielder,” Kadan said, indicating a path to their right. “He’s moving fast.” For the first time there was a note of worry in his voice. “He’s locked on and is hunting.”

Gator felt a sudden cold chill go down his spine “Flame’s back there.” He indicated the other side of the island. “I’ll take the medic kit to her.”

The sound of rifle fire reverberated through the swamp. Birds rose shrieking their annoyance. Ian joined them on the ground. “Knew one of them would get the clever idea of lying back to wait for us. He was sitting in a tree a few hundred yards from here.” He nudged Tucker. “Must have not liked your looks. He had his sights set for you. Guess I saved your life.”

Tucker gave a derisive snort. “Guess you’re full of yourself. Bullets bounce off me. I’ve got my superman shirt on today.”

“Is that where my shirt went? You thief. I been looking for it ever since I did laundry.” Even as they wrangled back and forth good-naturedly, they were scanning the ground for more tracks.

Kadan dropped down to examine a footprint. It was small and right over the top of it was the shielder’s print.

“There’s blood here, Gator, and it isn’t from one of their team,” Kadan announced.