“So you’re a protector,” Gavin joked.
“You got me,” I laughed. “The guys in my unit used to joke and call me their military dad.”
“What would they say if they saw you doing this?” Troy asked curiously. I laughed at that.
“We used to watch hunts on slow nights,” I admitted. “They’d think I hit the jackpot.”
“From the sadness in your voice… I’m sorry for your loss,: Troy said gently, shocking me by crushing me in a hug. For a smaller man he had some strength hidden under those button up shirts he loved. The other two followed his lead and I had to forcibly ignore how nice it felt to be hugged… especially by them.
“Okay, enough of that,” Gavin said, clearing his throat with an awkward laugh. “Sorry, we’re not usually huggers.”
“It was the right thing to do,” said Troy and they just accepted his assessment of the situation. And honestly, I felt a bit better.
“Thanks guys,” I said and they didn't ask for further clarification, I think they knew what this all meant to me. Adam seemed to sense we needed a change of subject.
“So, did you see the flyers hanging around? I snagged one out of the diner earlier,” he said as he passed it around. “There’s a festival in town in a few days. I was thinking we should go.”
“I’m a sucker for festival food,” Gavin said, making the guys laugh.
“You want to come with?” Troy asked. I started to protest but couldn’t find it in me to say no.
“You know what, yes,” I agreed. A smile spread across all three of their faces. It was strange how I’d never appreciated my messed up eyesight, but in that moment I couldn’t help but be grateful. All I could see was the three men out here comforting me, making me feel seen, and the rest of the world was faded around them.
“Good,” Troy said smugly. “I’ll describe all the ridiculous antics. You know damn well small towns, booze, and music, will end in at least a few fights and someone dancing on tables.” I laughed at that.
“Can’t wait.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Brea
A week later
“Darklings! It’s finally here. The last night of investigations,” I said, feeling a sense of sadness that we’d come this far. We’d made it to the final week, and other than the festival coming up, we had a lot of information to compile properly and send out.
“We don’t want to cut you short, but there’s a storm rolling in, so we’ll only be hunting for an hour or two,” Ethan explained. It was our white lie to keep our abilities a secret. We’d promised the ghosts for days that tonight we’d help them cross over. Or rather Sully and Troy would help and we’d witness it.
“We asked over the last few days what location you guys wanted us to end with and it was an overwhelming vote for the boat graveyard,” Sully said. “So, let’s get this started.”
From the look in his eyes we weren’t alone here. I noticed the way he focused on things in the distance, something he couldn’t do outside of ghostly auras.
Ethan made easy work of setting up the Spirit Box and Ryker had a thermal camera he was scanning the beach with.
“This is insanity. It’s like there’s a full crowd on the beach,” he said. I walked up behind him so the Darklings could see what we saw, though we’d upload more later. An entire shoreline of figures stood, watching us from the various boats and rocks surrounding us. They were waiting. On what, I wasn’t sure.
“Who is with us tonight?” Ethan called out. It was quiet but we watched through the thermal feed as the crowd inched closer. Their steps were imperceptible, each blink they moved without actually being able to see their gait.
“That’s not terrifying at all,” Sully snarked.
“The chat is blowing up,” Ryker said. “Keep going, Ethan.”
“What are your names?”
“Gabriel. Jack,” the two names were said in two different voices. I almost wished we could hear what Troy was hearing, but he couldn’t exactly start calling out names on live.
“Why haven’t you crossed over yet?” Gavin called out.
“No light.” The answer was a mix of countless voices this time, sending a chill down my spine.