Storm
"Hello," Riggs rumbles. "Storm? Whatcha need?"
"Can you leave?"
"I'll have to ask Viper for permission. I can think of several ways I can beg her," he says lasciviously.
"I need help. I need you to come get me. Now," I order him, as though he is one of my men. But he isn't, is he? He is Sawyer's man and he follows her orders, not mine.
"You don't sound alright."
"I'm not. Please, hurry." My voice cracks at my plea. The only person I have ever begged is Sawyer, and now him. "Do you know where the reservation is?"
"Of course. I've lived here all my life, which is longer than you have," he teases.
I can not believe this idiot is aging himself. He is as old as the Death Kings, which is thirty-eight. He is twelve years older than Sawyer and nine years older than me. I believe he and Slater Zen are the same age.
"I'll be there. Just give me thirty minutes. Are you safe? Can you do that?"
I scoff at his questions with derision. "I might be blind, but I'm not helpless."
"What you mean your....You know what? Never mind. We'll address that comment when I get there, Shaman." He hangs up the phone and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Shaman? I don't guess I am one anymore. My connection to spirits has been shattered and with it, my sight has been removed. In a way I'm relieved, but also, being blind is going to have its disadvantages as well.
This Jericho guy, whoever he is, is powerful. It rolls off him in waves and is tainted heavily with death. I'm thankful it was just him and I in the tent. The others had left upon his arrival.
How do I know this? My hearing and sense of smell are both more acute than they used to be. I can hear the movement of those outside the tent around the fire. I can hear them talking, wondering who that man was who told them to not disturb me when he ushered them out upon his arrival.
I'm grateful to him. I don't want anyone to know I'm blind, at least not yet.
It hits like a ton of bricks, this depressive feeling of understanding that I won't be able to operate on bodies anymore. I can no longer be a mortician or medical examiner. Thankfully I own the funeral, so there is that at least. I do have a nice nest egg of money put away from our mercenary jobs. Other than purchasing my car and the funeral home outright, I have no expenses other than halving living expenses with Carter and gas.
The next thing I black out, falling against the fur blankets behind me.
***
"Outside you cannot be here. It's a night of prayer," I hear an elder hiss at someone as I come awake.
I cannot remember anything.
I attempt to open my eyes, but all I can see is darkness. How did I go blind?! Panic threatens to consume but I push it aside as I hear, "I understand that, sir. But it's urgent. Where's Storm?" I hear Riggs. I shout for him.
I can hear the quick movements of his feet as if he stomping on purpose to warn others he is coming. The sound stops several feet away.
"You okay?" I jump at the sound of his voice suddenly being inches away. "You can't see me. Can you?" I feel the air on my face, picturing him waving his tattooed hand in front of me.
"I see nothing but black, and I don't mean you," I comment, aware that his surname is Black.
"How did this happen?"
"I don't know. I woke up and couldn't see anything. I don't remember what I hallucinated about. I can recall them, usually.
"That isn't good. You could've had a stroke, or it could be a brain tumor. We need to have you checked out," he says urgently. I'm not positive that any of those reasons are the cause of my sudden blindness.
"You can help me call Doc Fox in the morning. I want to go home," I reply with a weariness I can feel in my bones.
Something about my face of tone has him agreeing. "I'll make sure you don't walk into anything. It took a little longer getting here since I swung by my house to get my old truck."
"I hadn't noticed," I assure him as he grips my wrist and hoists me onto my feet.
"It's not like you can look at the time," he jokes, but his words are laced with nervousness.
"At least I know someone who is blind who can give advice. JT and Jensen will be mad about it."
"Why would they be mad at you for contacting someone who can help?"
"He is their ex, Callix Lane."
"What?" His steps falter in a half halt, but he keeps going. A half halt is a brief pause.
"You didn't know? JT is pansexual, and Jensen is bi-sexual. They've been together for about eight years now. In the past, they've added people to their relationships, like Callix and Rory Beadu. Rory is a registered nurse who works for the Death Kings privately. The last I heard, she was placed with another team to aid them after leaving her job at the hospital. They dated Callix and Rory at the same time."
"The other two were okay with these?" He questions, helping me into the vehicle.
"Consensual non-monogamy relationships are what they like. Carter and I accept it," I tell him. I hear the driver's door open and shut.
"Does Viper know?" The engine roars to life after his question.
"If she doesn't, my Bonny Girl will soon find out."
"What about you?" His voice sounds genuinely curious.
"I'm into CNM, but I'm heterosexual. I'm more than okay with sharing Sawyer. You?"
"Same," he replies.
The rest of the ride home is filled with the sound of Riggs crooning along to the early songs of Elvis Presley. I'm surprised he knows all these songs word for word. He must be a big fan of the King of Rock N' Roll.