Reign of Evil

It had started with the feeling of being watched. At first it had been an anomalous idea of something tracking him. But when he’d stop, look, and see nothing, instead of the feeling going away it stayed with him. Then it evolved into a certain curiosity. He felt the strange attention, whatever it was, try to understand him; just as he might watch an insect pick a path from one tree to the other along the forest floor, so did this thing do to him as it watched him make his way through the forest.

At one point the idea of twelve came to him. It began with just the idea of the number. Twelve. Twelve. Twelve. But then it became more, once he exhibited a curiosity about the number. Then he had the idea of twelve eyes. Twelve eyes watching him. At the moment of that thought, he remembered vividly halting in the middle of a copse of giant trees of Myanmar. He spun in the silent forest until he spied six birds sitting on a branch of a tree. The birds’ bodies faced the same way, their heads were turned the same way, and they watched him from pairs of inscrutable black eyes. He moved away from the birds and felt the weight of their stare. He moved left, then right, but each time the birds moved their heads in unison, tracking him as if they were mere appendages of one larger will.

As he expressed his curiosity about it, it in turn expressed an uncertainty to him. It wanted to know more about him and in turn he wanted to know more about it. He wanted to understand what it was he felt and how he was able to detect something he didn’t see.

Then he’d lost time. He next remembered his body aching. The light was different. The entire feel of the forest had changed. He hadn’t known it then, but it was because he’d let the creature come into him.

YaYa ran his remaining hand along the mechanism the experts had made for him. Produced by DEKA Research and Development Corporation in cooperation with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, the prosthetic came in two models: one that could pass for a human arm and one that appeared to be half-human and half-cybernetic. He’d chosen the latter, not only because it was stronger but also because its falseness would serve as a reminder of his utter stupidity. Controlled with the help of neurotransmitters implanted into his brain, it was near perfect except for the fact that it wasn’t his own.

His thoughts drifted to Walker. Among anyone he knew, Walker would be the one to best relate since he’d been possessed before as well. YaYa hoped to be able to talk about it but also realized that the SEAL was in mourning. God knew the last thing YaYa wanted to do was to pour on the misery. He’d have to find the right time to bring it up, if at all.

He finally fell asleep staring at Van Dyke. He dreamed of a single crow on a battlefield staring at him with twelve eyes.

CHAPTER 22

CHICKSANDS RAF. MORNING.

Walker stepped into the lounge and thanked God there was coffee. He poured himself a cup, then turned, leaning against the counter, looking at Trevor.

“Sir Robert called you a psychopath.”

Trev and Preeti glanced up from eating breakfast at the table. Trev gave him a look. “Good morning to you, Walker.”

Preeti frowned. “Can’t this wait?”

Walker cursed himself. Ever the bull in the china shop. He began to apologize, but Trev stopped him with a chop of his hand. “You really want to know, then all you have to do is ask.”

Walker glanced from man to woman, then shrugged. “Okay, I’m asking.”

Trev put down his utensils, took a sip of his coffee, and wiped the side of his mouth. He glanced once at Preeti, who wasn’t returning his gaze, then stared openly at Walker. “I beat seven men so bad they were hospitalized for weeks. One of them died. It was very public, it was caught on video, and it almost ended my military career. If it hadn’t been for Ian, I’d have been pulling guard duty in some inhospitable place far from everything and everyone I know and love.”

Walker blinked. Trev hadn’t said how he’d done it, but to imagine putting seven men in the hospital was enough to shock. Physically the man didn’t look capable, but then again, Walker had been surprised by what a person who knew how to carry himself could do.

Preeti looked up from her plate. “Trev never likes to talk about it.” She glanced at her boyfriend and squeezed his hand. He turned away and stared at the floor. “Do you know what hooligans are, Walker?”

“Soccer fans who get too rowdy.”

“Rowdy.” Trev laughed. “That’s rich.”