Riders (Riders, #1)(13)



We sat in the home team dugout together, watching the sun sink behind the scoreboard. The infield was freshly groomed, the chalk lines dragged clean, the bases put away. I thought about how something had clicked for me that season. I’d upped my game on every level and already been approached by a couple recruiters—small colleges that wanted me—but I knew I’d do better. I had the grades I needed and enough talent. Effort was the last piece, and that was where I really kicked ass. Come spring, I’d have a scholarship offer from a big school.

It’d been a dream for a long time. That night it felt attainable. Everything seemed possible to me in that moment. Everything did. And as we waited for Anna to show up, I told my dad what I wanted. What I was going to do.

When I finished, I remember he looked at me for a long moment. I felt like he was seeing a man sitting there with him, not just his son. Then he’d smiled and said, “I could go for another four years in the stands.”

He believed I could do it. My fate seemed sealed. In a way, it almost felt achieved already. My dream was going to happen. Except he died six weeks later and I never set foot on a baseball diamond again.

Anyway.

You can probably guess that thinking about my dad didn’t improve my mood. He wasn’t around and never would be again, but he was one person I’d always been able to talk to about anything. I could’ve used that right then. Without that option, I ran until my shirt was soaked with sweat and I’d put five miles behind me.

I stopped as I reached the top of a hill. The setting sun turned the sky red, and campus spread out below me. Up until then I’d barely noticed the cuff on my wrist. Wearing it felt as comfortable as wearing nothing and it shouldn’t have been that way, considering I didn’t like things on me, and how hefty and snug it was. But now, as I cooled down and focused on it, I felt the slightest buzzing sensation, a beehive kind of drone humming up my arm.

That was enough for me. I had a feeling this piece of metal was responsible for everything. Time for it to go. I grabbed the first big rock I saw, braced my arm on the dirt, and slammed the rock down.

A scream detonated in my ears—high-pitched, terrible. Like someone getting murdered. At the same time, the air rushed out of my lungs and my vision went red, bright fire red, and I face-planted into the dirt. The last thing I remember was the sound of my blood pounding in my ears.

It sounded like the thunder of hoofbeats.

*

I think I was out for a few minutes. When I came around, the sun had just set and the sky was doing a slow bleed from red to purple. As I headed back to Anna’s, I had a nice long talk with myself about staying composed.

Anna’s roommate, Taylor, answered the door. In the living-room area, a few people were sprawled across the two small couches, and a pyramid of empty beer cans sat on the coffee table.

I’d already made sure my personal rage atmosphere was mild, low chance of anger. Now I followed up by sending a kind of mental message into the room before anything bad could happen.

We’re cool. Everybody be cool. Just be calm.

They ignored me, which was perfect, except for Taylor, who started right in with how much she’d heard about me and how much she loved Anna and how much fun they’d been having. I countered with how much I needed a shower and took myself to the bathroom. By the time I got out, my head felt clearer and I had a plan. I’d attack the situation like I’d been trained to do in the Army. Gather intelligence. Create a strategy. Execute on it. I’d figure out what was happening to me, then go about reversing it.

Anna was at her desk when I stepped into her room. She spun in the swivel chair, sliding her cell phone into the pocket of her jacket. “Good look, little brother,” she said, tipping her chin to the pink towel around my waist. I’d been born two minutes after her and she loved to remind me that I came into this world in second place. “The girls in the apartment downstairs are having a party. Joy said she told you about it. You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Is Wyatt going to be there?”

“I don’t think so.” She frowned, eyeing me more closely. “Gideon, you don’t look hurt at all. You look bigger.”

“Yeah?” I looked at myself. All I could really see was my stomach, so I patted it. “It’s all the PT I’ve been doing.” I’d always been athletic. Army life had just honed me up more.

“Did you do something wrong?”

It took me a second to realize what she meant. She thought the accident was a cover? “Anna, no. I didn’t.”

She didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. We could always tell when the other was holding something back, which was one of the reasons I’d been gone so much over the past year. I hadn’t wanted to take any chances of dragging her down with me. Now was no different.

I rubbed a hand over my wet hair, which was already dry because it was a millimeter long. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s creepy.”

“You’re creepy.” She stood. “See you downstairs.”

“Wait. I need to call Mom.”

“I already told her you’re here. She went atomic.” She tossed me her phone and smiled. “Have fun.”

When she left, I pulled on jeans and sat at the desk. My first order of business was to get information. I fished some medical discharge papers out of my ruck and found the number for the Army physician overseeing my case. Because of the severity of my injuries, I had Dr. Katz’s mobile number. He answered right away.

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