The phone rang until it was sent to the Voicemail, which said, ”Go fuck yourself. And yes, I mean you. You know who you are.” And beeped.

  “I don’t think so, Sam. You’ll call me back and you’ll do it now. You owe us, and you want what we’re selling, I promise you that. You hear me? You’re going to get exactly what you want unless you’re too immature to call back. So call back, you baby.” and I hung up the phone, handing it to Martina.

  Martina smiled and said, “You do know you just made him even angrier, right?”

  I grinned at her and said, “Yup.”

  “And he's a God,”

  I grinned wider. “Yup.”

  Sarah asked, “So what do we do while we wait?”

  “We won’t wait long, but let’s clean up a bit and get ready to leave. We should wash up cups, wipe down surfaces we touched, and generally make it hard for anyone to figure out who broke into the house.”

  We had barely started cleaning the kitchen when Martina’s phone rang. She answered and put it on speaker phone before speaking, “Holá, pembéro! We can all hear you!”

  “Fuck you, fuck Dru, and fuck this whole thing! You all have ruined so many plans, you stupid fucking…fucks! And you’re no fun at all! Don’t you get how bad this is? The fucking world is going to end!”

  “Sam,” I replied, ”You are an ass. I don’t care about your plans, and I don’t find any of this ‘fun’. But I agree with one thing.”

  “What?” He yelled like a petulant child.

  “The world is going to end. For Broadhead. We’re going to end it, and you’re going to help.”

  “To hell with that, Dru. You don’t like me? Fine! Do it all yourself, I’ve started other plans and have other options.”

  “I’m sure you have, it’s in your nature, Raven.”

  Silence…

  “Godsdamnit Martina!”

  “Screw you, pembéro, you stole our car, and you didn’t even need it!”

  “Why didn’t he need it?” I asked.

  Over the phone speaker, he warned, “Martina…”

  “Because he can fly as a Raven if he wants to.”

  All sorts of things crystalized in my brain and began to fall into place. There was what can only be called a very, very uncomfortable lull in the conversation as we all stared at Martina. She shrugged and rolled her eyes at us for being so desperately dense.

  “I’m not a God! I’m in tune with my God. I’m God-touched like Dru.”

  “In tune with your God?” I asked. “A God that isn’t here on earth? How, Trickster? Want to explain it to me?” I was remembering how I had brought up the raven flying over Sarah's house, and how smoothly Sam had led the conversation towards Morrigan, Druids, and crows before handing me a bag of opioids. One hell of a smooth distraction from the truth. "Want to tell me it was a fucking trained crow flying around every time you've shown up in front of me?"

  More silence. Then a long sigh. “Shit. No fun at all.”

  Frank spoke up, “Raven, Sam, Trickster…what the hell do we call you?”

  We heard a general mumbling on the other end, “Hell with it, call me Sam. My name is private, and I think I’ll keep it to myself for now, but it’s way funny to be called Sam.”

  “Do I want to know why?” I asked.

  “Sam means ‘God has heard’. That’s funny.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll get it, Drustan Seta. But I doubt it.”

  Frank interrupted, “So Sam, we need your infrastructure.”

  “Infrastructure? Is that a euphemism for something? Has Martina been telling bedtime stories?” We could hear the snide innuendo in his voice through the phone and I didn’t like it.

  I spoke into the phone, “Sam, we need medical attention for Frank in a safe place that Broadhead can’t get to. We need that safe place for us to regroup and plan, we need the godsdamned car back, and we need your tech expertise. Also, shut up about your penis. Nobody gives a fuck, and you are not our friend.”

  “Oh,” he replied as nonchalantly as he could, despite the obvious anger in his tone. “Is that all?”

  “No. We need guns.”

  “Of course you do, little doggy. And what exactly, do I get out of this?”

  “You get Broadhead eradicated.”

  He started laughing hysterically and it took several moments for him to calm down enough to talk over the phone. “Eradicate a worldwide organization. With the four of you. Dru, you still have no idea what is going on.”

  Angrier now, I spat out, “Okay asshole. You know what I mean. I’ll take out the leadership. The company might be worldwide, but their main office is about three hours away in Dallas.”

  We heard a sigh over the phone, and Sam said, “Look. You all made a mess. It’s not completely your fault, because you don’t know shit. But things are worse than you can comprehend. So here’s my counteroffer: you come into the fold with me and mine temporarily. I explain what’s going on, and we make a plan together to save the stupid planet. I’m in charge, though. You work for me, and you don’t ‘kill ém all’ unless I say so.”

  “Sam…” Frank began.

  “Take it or leave it, Frank. You’re floundering around with no knowledge of what’s coming next. Without me, you’ll fail. Shit, without me, you’re as good as dead.”

  We all looked at each other, and I nodded my assent to Frank. Sarah also nodded, and after a brief hesitation, Martina sighed and nodded too.

  “Alright, Sam, we’ll play along for now, but if I don’t like your explanations we’ll leave and take our chances. And I think you’ll be surprised with how much we do know.”

  “Why Frank,” he replied with a cackle, “don’t you trust me?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Well let me put you at ease. I’m giving you what you want and I’m buying what Dru is ‘selling’. Despite your bumbling and smashing everything I’ve spent years building, you’re finally offering what I’ve been asking for since we met. My ability to plan, your ability to command, and Drustan’s ability to kill shit. We might salvage this if you start listening to me.”

  Sarah jumped in, “Still not at ease, but we’ve already agreed. Get us to a safe house, Mr. Sam, and get my husband medical attention.”

  “The private ambulance is already on the way. I sent it as soon as I got your message.”

  “How the hell did you do that?” I asked.

  Smugly he drawled, “You call me and use me for my expertise, yet you doubt my expertise. I tracked your phone’s location. It’s not like the movies, Dru. If the phone is powered up, I can track it. Plus I know Frank is injured, remember? I was there when we rescued him. Got your address, and sent an ambulance. The driver is mine and completely trustworthy. Martina knows him.”

  “You’re sending Elijah?” Martina had a smile on her face as she asked.

  “Yes, you oversexed mermaid. I’m sending strong, silent, Elijah to you. Like a fairytale. You’re welcome.”

  Martina looked up at us with a big, goofy smile plastered over her face. Huh. Guess we get to meet the crush.

  Frank spoke into the phone, “What’s the ETA?”

  Sam answered, “About twenty-five minutes.”

  “That soon? Damn, you’re good.”

  “I really do have great timing. Elijah asked to go down as soon as we saw the news on the web about a house fire on Lake LBJ. All I needed was for you to reach out so I could find the address you were hiding at. I called and told him where you were before calling you.”

  Frank started to wrap it up. “Alright, we’ll get organized and cleaned up here while we wait for this Elijah of yours. I feel pretty confident he’ll be the only ambulance around, but to be on the safe side, what’s he look like?”

  “He looks like a human being. A real one, not you soulless white people. Martina knows him well.” he chuckled. ”He…”

  I reached over and ended the call while he was in mid-sentence. “I’m really starting to hate that guy. Martina, what’s the story on Elijah?”

  “Elijah is one of Raven’s three Shaman. He’s pretty good to be around and quiet. Smart. We have a history and he’s a good man. I trust him as a friend, but he’s definitely Raven’s man first, so understand he’s not on your side. If Raven told him to shoot you, he might ask why, but he’d do it.”

  “Did he ask to come here for you?”

  “Oh yes. He’s a warrior, and I’m sometimes his woman.”

  “Sometimes?”

  “It's complicated now that he's basically Raven's enforcer, but once upon a time, I wanted to marry him, and I think he wanted to marry me."

  "Not so complicated." I said.

  "Dru, I’m an Iara. We have those strong emotions I told you about, and a strong sex drive, and I’m not going to apologize for it. It’s not the 1800’s. I like sex, and I like sharing intimacy with people I care about. I’m not built to be monogamous. Or celibate. Elijah is fine with that. I don’t sleep with people who aren’t. I have three relationships that include sex at the moment, and they all know each other well. Elijah and I could have been more, but Raven…well, he chose Raven, and I'm not part of the inner circle. I don't want to be, so I'm an outsider now. I haven't seen Elijah for a few months.”

  “Hell, Martina, I’m not one to judge. You know my stance on sex. I’m trying to make sure I’m not going to find myself driving down the road with some insecure asshole trying to out macho the new guy sitting next to his girl.”

  “Not to worry, Elijah is a professional above all. I think you’ll like him, actually." She winked over her shoulder as she walked away from me, "And who says you get to sit next to me?”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  I smiled and got to work erasing evidence of our existence from the house. Eventually, a shuttle bus-style medical transport pulled into the driveway and stopped by the front door. Martina sprinted outside and jumped off the ground into the arms of an average-sized man with a dark complexion who looked very happy to see her.

  “I guess that’s Elijah,” I said.

  Sarah was standing next to me and smiled. “It sure looks like it. She sure seems…happy,” she said while glancing at me from the side.

  Martina and Elijah went from a happy reunion to making out like a pair of college freshmen in the space of about five seconds. I started laughing and Sarah joined me.

  “I heard her talking to you earlier. Strong sex drive indeed.”

  I started walking towards them, “We should probably stop them before the clothes come off.” Sarah followed me and chuckled a little.

  As I approached they broke off from the make-out session and turned to me as Martina disentangled herself from him and he lowered her back to the earth and onto her feet. She grabbed Elijah's hand and turned to Sarah and me.

  “Elijah,” She said, ”This is mi Hermana, Sarah. Her husband is inside and needs help getting out here. This,” she said pointing at me, “is my…my very good friend Dru.”

  “Good friend?” he asked as he put his hand out to greet me.

  I sighed as I took his hand in a firm grip. Then he surprised me. No crushing grip, no dominance games, instead he gave me a genuine handshake. I felt the little bit of nervousness that I had been building up dissipate.

  “I’m not family material, no matter what these guys want. It’s an unfinished conversation. So yeah. I’m the family's best friend. That’s what I can do. That’s all she meant.”

  “I’m confused, but if Martina vouches for you, you’re good.” He turned to Sarah, saying “I’ve heard excellent things about you from Martina. Let’s get your husband up the wheelchair lift.”

  The passenger door opened and another guy got out. He was damn near a carbon copy of Elijah, but maybe two inches shorter and ten pounds heavier. He was wearing faded Demin from head to toe with black cowboy boots and a huge, silver belt buckle that definitely started life as an Hors d'oeuvres platter. Martina smiled and ran around to the passenger side yelling, “Mijo! You babysitting your brother again?”

  “Of course, my lovely lady! I’m watching him and stealing you. Is today the day you give up on this ugly boy and come back to live with his strong, big brother? Iáxuhke might have some opinions, but at least it will be interesting!”

  Judging by the wry twist of Elijah’s lips, this guy was indeed his brother, and this joke was an old one.

  Martina laughed and said, “We’ll have to wait and see. Are you and that wife of yours still fighting over who does the best card tricks?”

  Damon sputtered in mock outrage, "Card Tricks? You wound us both, you vicious waterlily. We are Wizards of the highest order. I'll turn you into a newt!"

  Martina turned to Sarah and me and pulled the new stranger over to us, “This is Damon, Elijah's brother, and another of Raven’s crew. His wife, Iáxuhke, is the third Shaman of Raven’s people. And the strongest,” she added playfully.

  "Too true." He said. He put his arm around Martina and pulled her in tight to whisper in her ear. She laughed and pulled away from him, slapping his shoulder and saying, “Shame on you!”

  “It was her idea! You get all three Shaman experiences at once!” He laughed. Then he caught sight of me and his smile slid off his face and all the humor left his expression. I didn’t like that, so I turned away and looked over at his brother, Elijah.

  Elijah went aboard the big shuttle bus and opened the wheelchair access door at the back. He reached out, grabbed a box attached to a thick cable, and pressed a button. A wheelchair lift slowly unfolded and lowered itself to the ground. Elijah finished by lowering a folded-up wheelchair and jumping out the back onto the lift. As he opened up the chair, I looked him over a little closer.

  He was medium. Medium build, medium length hair, medium height. A lot like me. The big differences between us were our eyes, hair, and skin color. Whereas I’m the poster boy for SPF 50 and mixed Celt heritage, Elijah was pure northwest Native American. Bronze skin, Black hair, brown eyes. And he was a damn good-looking dude. I could see why Martina got all worked up about him.

  The thing that threw me was that he looked and moved like a special forces soldier. There’s a way that men and women trained for the highest levels of combat move. Unlike the movies, special forces soldiers are rarely bodybuilders and giants. They are lithe, average-sized, killing machines. And they move like Apex predators.

  Elijah moved like an Apex predator while pushing a wheelchair. Far from concerning me, it made me feel a little bit safer and relaxed. I’m most at home in violent environments and around violent people. I understand them, and we usually live by the same rules, so mistakes and social gaffes are rare. Which is good, because as should be obvious by now, I suck at proper social behavior.

  Sarah had run to the front door and was directing Elijah and the chair into the living room, where Frank was still sitting on the couch, and Martina had forgotten that any of us were still alive. She was fussing near Elijah and orbiting around him like a star pulled into a black hole.

  It was a little amusing to see the person I knew only as fierce and independent get like this around a guy, but she obviously cared about Elijah a lot. That alone made him okay in my book. It was a little unsettling how fast I had already come to trust Martina’s instincts and views considering we'd known each other less than forty-eight hours. But she was so much like…nah, I can't go there yet. Blue face paint and a fierce attitude is as much as I can handle right now. No names.

  Damon sidled up to me as Sarah, Martina, and Elijah disappeared into the house and ruined everything. As soon as they were out of sight, he said, “So you’re the dog?”

  I looked over sharply and found him standing tense and ready for a fight, his face stern and his eyes glaring. “Are we going to have a problem?” I answered.

  “Not if you start showing some fucking respect and stay in your fucking lane, little dog.”

  “That’s twice. Say it again and I’ll put your dick in the dirt.” I replied, stepping back a half pace to make room and provide options. Unlike his brother, Damon didn’t signal any apex predator skills, which meant I was going to smash his face in and hurt him pretty fast if he pushed this. “So, what's the problem, and why do you think you are allowed to talk to me at all?”

  “I’m a Shaman for a God, and you’re a disrespectful piece of shit." he spat back. "Raven shared your phone conversation with me. Who the hell do you think you are? You think I’m going to let you speak that way, treat my God that way?”

  Inside I wilted a bit. Religious zealots are always bad news, but the real problem is that he was right. I’d been verbally sparring with a God and that’s a horrible idea. Add into this the entire history of the Indigenous peoples of America and what Europeans did to them, and you’ve got some seriously righteous anger directed in the wrong direction. Still, I’m not a turn-the-other-cheek guy, and I think I've been clear about my social skills deficit.

  “You’re picking a fight with the wrong guy. I don’t have a problem with you, your culture, or your religion. I have a problem with Sam. It’s personal, not general. I don’t have a problem with you, Damon, unless you make one.” He wasn’t listening, though, and I could tell he was working himself up to some pointless gesture.

  Again, I said, “What’s between Sam and I is personal. He may be your God, but to me, he’s a devious, lying asshole, and he started this shit.”

  “Bitch!” Then Damon hit me. Or at least he tried. He swung his right fist in a huge overhand strike that would have knocked me out cold if it had hit, but as I said, he was no fighter. I saw the punch coming from a mile away and it wasn’t hard to cover up and slip it by ducking down and moving forward, which put me in a perfect place to hit him with a left hook as I stood back up.

  Which I did.

  Which knocked his dick in the dirt. Along with the rest of his body.

  A bitch is a dog, and that made three. I may be a piece of shit most of the time, but I keep my promises. Of course, this is when everybody rolled out of the front door and into the driveway. I looked up to see four people staring at me standing over Damon as he was lying in the driveway rolling over to his stomach and trying to stand up with a glazed look in his eyes like some asshole had smashed him with a left hook.

  Elijah stepped around the wheelchair and started moving towards me with smooth, gliding steps that appeared deceptively slow while eating up distance.

  I put my hands up while standing over Damon. "He started it.”

  Elijah stopped. Frank tilted his head to the side and stared at me. Both Martina and Sarah sighed in that magical way women can sigh which conveys the incredible depths of disappointment they feel in your bad behavior.

  Elijah said, “He started it? With you? Why?”

  “I called God bad names and God told on me to his Shaman?”

  He sighed and said, “Of course you did. And of course, he did. Back off, or we are going to go.”

  “Even though you know it was Sam who caused this?”

  “Damon is my brother. You will back off. Now.”

  I looked at Martina and Sarah standing there looking at me with that look. I backed off.

  Frank said, “This was a simple misunderstanding, Elijah. It’s not serious yet.”

  “Looks pretty serious to me.”

  “Nah. If it was serious, your brother would already be dead. Dru does two speeds - misunderstanding, and dead. Load me in the back. Dru and Sarah will stay there with me, you and your brother up front, Martina can sit anywhere she fits and wants to sit, I guess.”

  Elijah turned to Frank and gave him a flat stare. “You are not in charge. Raven is in charge, which means right now, I listen to myself, not you. If you want to pretend to be in charge, that’s fine with me, so long as your people listen and play nice. Punching my brother is not nice. I came to get Martina and bring you all back to Raven. Get in the ambulance.” With that, he went to the front of the truck, picked up Damon, and began dusting him off with brotherly affection and genuine concern.

  Sarah and I loaded up Frank onto the back of the wheelchair lift and eventually figured out how to use it. Not a peep or offer of help from Elijah or Damon. Martina seemed upset and uncertain about what to do, but eventually, she got angry at all of us and marched over to Sarah and me to help get Frank onto the shuttle bus.

  We eventually figured out how to secure Frank and operate the lift. The bus was laid out like a huge ambulance. It had a space for the wheelchair and a bed with straps, as well as all the gear you’d expect to find in an ambulance: triage equipment, oxygen, a defib, and more. But the layout also had a bench seat against the right side of the van in front of the wheelchair straps that could hold two people, I assume a medic and a patient.

  Forward of that were two bench seats typically found in shuttle buses everywhere that could hold two people on the left side of the bus with a single seat beside them on the right side of the bus. I suddenly realized that this entire bus was designed to evac a team after a violent action.

  Inside, the converted shuttle bus was amazing. It was a custom job and the interior was both filled with the cutting-edge medical equipment and beautiful artistic touches like real wood trim carved in a Northwest Native motif and varnished over to a high shine. It was gorgeous.

  As I stared at the interior, Martina came up to me and grabbed my hand, saying, “Damon did all this woodwork. He’s a very gifted artist.”

  My mouth fell open. The woodwork was stunningly perfect. I have a massive respect for artists who can shape such incredible images out of natural materials like wood, and rock.

  In the back of the bus, there was a place to lock in the wheelchair to travel with somebody sitting in it, but after we got in, Elijah came back and pointed to the narrow bed on the left side of the bus, saying, “Do you need the bed?”

  “No. No. I…Jesus Christ this bus is incredible.” Frank blurted out. Looking around, it was easy to see why we were all so stunned. Everywhere they could fit it, wood trim was fixed to the bus, but every inch was exquisitely carved into designs and animal forms as you would see in the finest examples of Native Northwest art. Imagine gorgeous, mini totem poles and you get the idea.

  Elijah smiled and Damon called from the front passenger seat, “Thank you.” He didn’t turn around or engage with us, but he did seem calmer now than when I hit him. I guess Elijah had talked to him.

  Elijah bent down close to Frank and glanced at me saying quietly, “Misunderstanding or dead, huh?"

  Frank looked at him square in the eyes and said, “Not really, I made that up to prevent a fight. The Dru I had in my outfit had one speed - dead. I’ve never seen Dru leave somebody alive before. He’s grown a lot since he got out of the squad.”

  “Not making me feel better.”

  “So maybe don’t poke the bear. Dru is family, whether he accepts it or not.”

  “I'm right here, fellas.” I interrupted. “Look, Elijah, I understand your concern, but you know damn well that this is Sam fucking with me. I get that we might not ever be friends, and I understand that I didn’t exactly make a great first impression, but I’m totally capable of behaving like a decent human being.

  “Are you a decent human being?”

  “Not at all. But I can behave like one.” I looked around at the bus again. I knew that Damon and I were never going to get along, but I figured I could try to extend an olive branch or something before we all got out our dicks and started measuring.

  “Damon, this woodwork is stunning. I’m impressed.”

  Staring out the front windshield he answered, “Well that sure makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and oh-so-validated now. White guy likes my little carvings.”

  Stupidly, and knowing it wouldn’t make anything better, I tried one more time, “Yeah Damon, I get it. You don’t like me. That’s fair. But I’m not kidding, this entire bus is awesome.”

  “Somebody tell that mutt to stop barking.”

  I took a step towards the front to feel Elijah’s hand on my chest at the same time he yelled, “Damon, shut it!”

  Damon shut it, and I looked down at Elijah's hand and then back up at him. I arched my eyebrow while he held the hand there for one long second to make sure I knew he wasn’t afraid of me before dropping it. “I think you and Damon should stop talking to each other.”

  Before I could answer, he turned away and walked up to the driver's seat. As soon as he was seated, he started the bus and put it into drive. We had to scramble into the open seats and Martina yelled, “Elijah! Be nice!”

  Elijah didn’t answer except to say, “Come up and sit near me if you want, Jáadaa.”

  Martina frowned but went up to the closest bench seat and sat down behind Elijah. From there, she was able to reach out and put her hand on his shoulder while he drove the bus out of the driveway and onto the road and talked quietly into his ear.

  From my single seat in the middle of the bus, I looked back to see Sarah sitting on the bench seat in front of Frank leaning over and talking softly to him. It looked like they were talking about personal things, so I stayed where I was. I turned back to the front of the bus and looked out the side window as the scenery passed me by.

  I suddenly had a thought. I got up carefully went back to the triage station and started rummaging through the supplies. It didn't take long before I found what I was looking for; A bottle of strong, medical-grade painkillers. I immediately opened it and took three pills, put the top back on, and shoved the bottle into my pocket. Then I made my way back to my seat, pretending not to notice that everyone else was pretending to not have seen me.

  So instead of finding myself driving down the road with some insecure asshole trying to out macho the new guy sitting next to his girl, I got to drive down the road alone, thinking about the man upfront who hated me for religious and historical reasons, and how the other people on the bus suddenly knew I was an addict.

  Much better.