Thunder Game

1

It took a moment of time. One heartbeat. A split second. Diego Campos had grown up in a cruel, unrelenting world and knew for a fact that everything you planned, everything you held dear, could be lost in that single space of time. Despite all the plans you made, all the precautions you took, that single moment would change your life.

Those horrible life-altering moments had happened to him many times, setting him on dark paths he could never come back from. And he was damned tired of trying.

He had come home to die. The only thing he wanted from life now was to be cremated and have his ashes buried next to his parents and five siblings in the graveyard behind the cabin his father had built so many years ago, there in the Appalachian Mountains.

He was on his way home to the old cabin now. With the exception of his brother Rubin, most of the rest of his family were already there, interred in the rocky soil that had been their home for so many years. It was important to him that his ashes were laid to rest beside them, and he knew, being a GhostWalker, that wouldn't happen if he died anywhere but at the cabin, where Rubin would find him. Even grieving, Rubin would follow his wishes to the letter.

And he would grieve.

Rubin had followed others into the military and into the volunteer program of enhancement of psychic abilities. Diego had followed Rubin. Both scored exceptionally high and were accepted into the program. In the end, not only had their psychic abilities been enhanced, but they had been altered genetically. Given animal, bird and even reptile DNA. Those traits allowed them to do extraordinary things, but they also brought out every negative trait any volunteer in the GhostWalker program had. Diego had quite a bit of darkness in him. That had never stopped Rubin from having intense loyalty toward Diego, however.

Diego had driven up to the old trail that led the way up the mountain. He was miles from home, having to travel mostly by foot to reach the family homestead. He pulled off the pitted dirt road into the shelter of trees and brush. It was one of the places Rubin would look for his vehicle. They had often returned to the mountains and would leave supplies for each other in the truck they'd hidden in the bushes. There was an old road leading up the mountain, but they rarely used it. Neither liked to leave tracks.

Despite the shit show that was his life, Diego could never say he hadn't been loved. But Rubin would be grieving for a man who had ceased to exist years earlier-hell, a man who never truly had existed. All the good in him had died during his brutal childhood years.

He was sorry Rubin would be the one to find him. If there were a way to spare his brother that, he would. But ending it at the cabin, knowing Rubin would be along in the next week or two to visit the neighbors who needed a doctor, was the only way he could think of to ensure his last wishes were carried out.

Wildflowers grew everywhere, splashes of color springing up in every direction, vying for space with ferns and various bushes. The moment he saw the verbesina, memories of his sisters making crowns from the bright yellow flowers flooded his mind. They'd been so young, laughing as they wove the strands of flowers together and placed them on one another's heads.

His heart clenched in his chest. Years earlier, he and Rubin had planted verbesina and other wildflowers his sisters had loved in the family graveyard located behind the cabin. They made a point of keeping the little family cemetery nice when they returned each year.

August was ending, and it was time for their semiannual trek home. Rubin hadn't questioned that Diego wanted to go up a little early. He knew Diego preferred being in the mountains, and it was natural for him to go a couple of weeks early. Besides, Rubin was married now and had commitments to his wife. Diego was counting on Rubin's love for Jonquille to get him through the next few weeks.

Rubin was ten months older than Diego. They'd been seven years old when their father had died, leaving their mother with nine children and only the land to sustain them. Together, Rubin and Diego had dug the grave and buried their father in that small cemetery behind the cabin.

Hoping to bring in money to feed the family, their two oldest brothers, at fourteen and fifteen, had gone off looking for work but never returned. After two months with no word, Diego realized his older brothers had to be dead, or they would have returned to aid the family, so he made up his mind to protect the others. He had gifts, dark ones perhaps, but incredible gifts he knew he could develop. He set about doing just that every chance he had, determined to protect those he loved. But it cost him dearly.

As the next-oldest male after their missing brothers, Rubin had become the de facto head of the family just days before his eighth birthday. The expectation had been for him to run the family, to provide for them, even though he was only eight. Diego was his shadow, watching over him, honing his skills with his rifle, to better protect Rubin when they went out in the rugged terrain during every type of weather to hunt, fish, and forage for food to bring home to their mother and sisters.

Rifle skills weren't the only thing Diego worked on. He had a close affinity with animals. He could understand them, and they could understand him. He worked hard to establish as many connections as he could with the wildlife and birds surrounding them. That led to better hunting skills and gave them an added layer of protection. His mother, a stern, religious woman, was certain he practiced witchcraft. Her punishments didn't stop him though, not when it was for the survival of all of them.

Diego shifted the pack carrying his favorite weapons as he came upon a stream where he'd fished for trout with Rubin and his older sister, Mary. They'd laughed so much together, and Rubin had caught the biggest trout in his life. Their family had eaten well that night, Diego and Mary contributing with their smaller but tasty fish. He could not only remember his sister's laughter, but he heard the sound of it in his mind. He could see them all so clearly, their lips pink and stained with grease from the fish they'd fried up in Mama's old cast-iron skillet. Even Mama had been smiling, a rare thing, but she had that day, her eyes warm as she watched her children eating and laughing.

Man, that trout had tasted so good. That was a good day. He stood by the stream, a half smile on his face at the memory until he remembered the tragedy that had come a few weeks later. Diego's fingers flexed around the strap of his backpack, knuckles going white as his grip tightened. That was the terrible truth that dogged him. There was never any good in his life that bad didn't soon follow.

Rubin and Diego were nine when Mary left home to get married. Mathew Sawyer had been a good man, but she was barely of age. She died in childbirth nine months later, leaving behind her newborn son. Rubin and Diego dug the grave and buried her beside their father.

Diego had been particularly close to Mary, and he was devastated by her death. He knew Rubin was as well. But they were quiet about their grief, doing their best to comfort their mother and sisters.

Diego toed a large rock beside the stream and watched as several bugs crawled out from under it. Memories continued to flood his mind, and even the beetles couldn't distract him.

The year they turned ten was a decent year. They managed to put together a generator from old parts they found in a mine. They came up with a way to bring gravity-fed running water to the house, the first their mother ever had.

Diego shifted his pack once more, used to the heavy weight of it, and began to follow the winding stream up toward Luther Gunthrie's place. Rubin and Diego had often snuck past Luther's homestead to get to the best fishing spots. Night fishing for catfish or bass often saved them from starvation.

Diego had begun to get very proficient at calling wildlife to him, but he felt guilty each time they had to kill a deer or rabbit he'd summoned. He didn't feel quite so guilty when he practiced on the fish in the streams. He'd had to hide his abilities from his mother. Although his connection with animals saved his family from starvation, she believed the devil was in him and she'd try to beat the affliction out of him.

The thought of night fishing brought up one of his worst memories. That next summer, Lucy, their twelve-year-old sister, had gone night fishing with eight-year-old Jayne. Four men hiking the Appalachian Trail had run across the two girls. When their sisters didn't come home, Rubin and Diego went to find them. Lucy was dead, and Jayne was nearly comatose from the brutal attack.

After carrying the girls home, they went back to track their sisters' attackers. Rubin and Diego caught up with the men the following night. By morning all four men were dead. Rubin and Diego left them where they lay for the vultures and wildlife to take care of. They lived in a remote part of the mountains, and neither of them worried about the bodies being discovered.

They were thirteen when the flu took Jayne and then their sister Ruby. They buried both girls next to their father and sisters. Their mother never spoke a word after that. She sat in a chair, rocking, barely eating or sleeping. Just rocking, staring straight ahead with a vacant stare.

Their fourteenth winter was brutal. The snow fell every day, and they ran out of food. Rubin and Diego had no choice but to go hunting. When they returned to the cabin, their mother was dead. She had hanged herself, and Star, their last living sister, blamed herself for falling asleep. Star snuck out that night, leaving a note that said she'd gone to join the Catholic nuns in a convent. Alarmed, they tracked her and found her frozen body near the stream where Lucy had been murdered. It took days to bury their mother and sister in the frozen ground alongside the rest of their family.

After that, Diego decided that his sole purpose in life was to protect Rubin. He knew his brother was a good man. He didn't have that dark place inside him that Diego did. Diego also knew he had to be very careful that Rubin didn't realize his younger brother possessed the same gifts he had and was using them to protect Rubin, even after they joined the GhostWalker program.

Until Rubin and Diego discovered the truth about Luther Gunthrie and the government experiments done on him, they'd believed Whitney had been the man who conceived the GhostWalker program and psychically enhanced the soldiers who tested high in psychic ability. He'd also genetically altered them without their permission, making the GhostWalkers enhanced physically as well as psychically. They'd signed on for the psychic enhancements because they believed they would be a help to their country and fellow soldiers. The genetic enhancements, however, they hadn't known about and had never agreed to. Still, they were soldiers who had joined a top secret military program, and they did their jobs, no matter how dangerous it was or how many times they were betrayed by factions of the government.

Each branch of the service had one GhostWalker team, consisting of ten members. The first team experimented on had a few major problems. Some needed anchors to drain away the psychic energy that adhered to them like magnets. Others had brain bleeds. Every subsequent team had fewer and fewer flaws until Whitney had achieved his goal and created his prize group, the Pararescue Team. They might have what Whitney considered fewer flaws, but they also had more genetic enhancements than any of them cared for. Most of their talents were hidden from Whitney and never documented.

Diego might have been ten months younger than Rubin, but they may as well have been twins. Each gift that should have been unique to one was shared. It was just that Diego never allowed anyone to see him use some of the stronger and more valued talents his brother was known for. Once those gifts had been enhanced by Whitney, both men's abilities had continued to grow in strength, though Diego and even Rubin had kept the full extent of their power increase a closely guarded secret. As for hiding most of his psychic talents entirely, well, Diego had his reasons, and he would take those to his grave.

Diego turned away from the stream to take a shortcut through the denser forest. The trees were tall, and the canopy overhead cut out a great deal of light. This grove of trees was at the very bottom of the mountain as it began its climb upward. Although a long hike from their homestead, Diego had favored practicing calling birds and wildlife to him in the heart of that dense forest. He was protected there, and the animals were diverse. His mother's friends or the other children couldn't spy on him and tattle to her. She might think she knew what he was doing, and she often punished him for disappearing all day and sometimes overnight, but he felt the punishments were worth what he was gaining.

That proved to be true when Rubin came looking for him once in an effort to keep him from getting whipped with a switch. Their mother had been ranting and raving. Rubin wanted Diego to hunt food and bring it back so their mother would think that was what he'd been doing each time he disappeared. Diego no longer cared if he was beaten. His mother refused to love or want him no matter what he'd done to try to earn her affection, and he had given up. He went his own way unless Rubin asked him to do something. And he protected Rubin. Was his shadow, whether his brother wanted it or not.

His first huge success at commanding animals had taken place right there in that very section of the forest. Not only his first success, but the worst lesson possible in responsibility and the consequences of meddling with nature.