Don’t wait for someone to hand over a red cape and call you a hero. Jump the fuck in. ~ First Sergeant Michael “Mako” Tyne
Heading out to play baseball with Kana and Miguel, two other foster children, ten-year-old Gabriel MacNair heard whimpering. The sound came from the master bedroom.
Pausing, he reached for the knob and stopped. No, dummy. Although he’d only been in this foster home for two weeks, after a year in the system, he knew better than to go into a foster parent’s room…and that went double for this man.
Phillip had big hands and a mean temper.
Inside the room, Phillip cursed, then growled at someone, “Shut your trap, you ugly little shit.”
“Don’t touch me! Get off!”
That was Derek’s voice.
Gabe sucked in a breath. All three foster boys in this house were almost Gabe’s age and as streetwise as he was. He liked them. Derek didn’t talk much at all, and he had a mean-looking scar on his face, but when Gabe’d first arrived, the boy had scooted over and shared his bench. He was okay.
But…if Gabe opened the door, Phillip would probably hit him. Hard.
There was a slapping sound and something ripped. Derek screamed in fury.
Fear thick in his throat, Gabe tried to turn the knob. Locked. He swallowed. Okay, okay, he could do this. He’d always helped Gramps in the locksmith shop. Gramps said Gabe could pick a lock before he could walk.
Grief slid over him. Why’d you have to go and die, Gramps?
Taking the jackknife from his sock, he silently slid the blade past the lock’s strike plate, edging the spring latch from the jamb. When it gave, he tucked his knife away and shoved the door open.
“Hey, Phillip, can I—” The weak excuse died on his lips as he stared in shock.
Phillip had Derek shoved face-first on the bed. The man’s fat dick bobbed out of his unzipped jeans. Seeing Gabe, he turned red with rage. “Get the fuck out of here!”
Terrified, Gabe took a step back.
Shirt half-ripped off, Derek was kicking, struggling.
Can’t leave. Heart pounding so hard it hurt, Gabe yelled, lowered his head, and charged. His skull hit Phillip right in the gut and knocked him against the wall. “Run, Derek!”
Wheezing, Phillip shoved off the wall and backhanded Gabe to the floor. “Pissant brat.”
Gabe slammed into the floor and tumbled against the dresser. Head spinning, he tried to stand. And fell.
Derek scrambled up onto the bed and launched himself at the man.
Ear-splitting shrieks came from the doorway as the other two boys tore in from outside—and attacked.
Kana, a big kid with long black hair dove at Phillip, hitting him at the same time as Derek. Phillip tossed them back.
Miguel, the short Mexican, swung his bat. The wood hit Phillip’s dick—and the scream was terrifying.
Phillip dropped to his knees, holding his junk.
Panting, Gabe made it to his feet. Man, they were all so screwed.
Miguel looked like he’d puke, and Kana backed away.
When Derek staggered, Gabe slung an arm around him to hold him up.
“Jesus, what kind of clusterfuck is this?” A huge man stood in the doorway, filling the frame completely. All muscle. Short, dark brown hair going gray. Eyes sharper than Gabe’s knife narrowed on Phillip who was holding his naked dick. The stranger’s jaw tightened as he looked at the bed, then Gabe and the others. “Who was the pervert after?”
Derek edged closer to Gabe, but bravely raised his chin. “Me.”
“Goddamn city isn’t safe even for rugrats.” He studied them. “Which one of you attacked the asshole?”
Holding his aching jaw, Gabe forced out the answer. “Me.”
“Me.” “Me.” “Yo.” Four kids; four answers.
Gabe braced himself to be hauled away. The others were doing the same.
Instead, the guy’s mouth curved into an approving smile. “You boys got guts. And already made yourselves into a team.”
Phillip leaned toward the bedstand, fumbling for the phone. “You hit me with a god-damned bat. They’ll lock you little bastards up forever.”
Lock us up? Fear chilled Gabe’s skin. His knees wobbled.
The stranger’s gaze went icy. He took two steps, slammed his huge fist into Phillip’s jaw, and knocked the jerk out cold.
Turning, the big man put his hands on his hips and looked them over.
Shakily, Gabe braced his legs and stared up. Why’d he do that? What did he want?
With relief, Gabe felt Kana’s shoulder rub his on the left. Miguel moved to stand on Derek’s other side.
The man nodded, like he was pleased or something. “Name’s Mako. I’ve been next door, visiting an old buddy. He said this here is a foster home?”
That was a safe enough question. Gabe nodded.
Mako glanced at Phillip. “Is the pervert your father or uncle?”
“Uh-uh.”
Mako frowned. “How about the rest of you? He a relative?”
The three shook their heads.
“Guess that’s good. Do any of you got family around here?”
“No,” Miguel muttered while Derek and Gabe shook their heads.
Kana snorted. “If we did, we wouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, guess not.” The man’s face tightened. “When the asshole wakes up, sounds like you’re going to be in trouble. True?”
Gabe blinked back tears because it was true. No one believed what kids said—not if a grownup said different. If Phillip told the social worker that the foster kids ganged up on him or tried to steal something—jeez, he could say anything—then they’d get dumped into a group home.
Gabe’d heard awful stories about those places. Got to leave before Phillip wakes up. He eyed the door and then realized Mako’s gaze had followed his.
“You’ll run.” The man’s eyes narrowed.
No one answered.
“The streets are no place for kids,” he muttered. “An’ if shit hits the fan, y’all will be like ducklings in a lake of hungry bass.”
Miguel made a worried sound. He was the youngest and really nice.
Saying stuff to scare kids wasn’t right.
Gabe tried to stand taller. “You shouldn’t try to scare us.” When the ice-cold gaze came to rest on him, he almost fled right then. Instead, he forced out the words. “We don’t have any choice, mister.”
“It’s Mako, kid, or Sarge works.” The man ran his fingers through his hair and scowled. “This’s fucked up.”
He stared at them a minute, then sighed. “My home is a long way from here, and that’s where I’m headed now. If you come with me, I’ll raise you till you can stand on your own two feet.”
Silence.
The other three looked at Gabe, waiting for him to decide, as they had since the first week he’d arrived. As if he knew what he was doing, which was totally a crock.
But if they trusted him, he’d better be careful. Couldn’t let them get hurt, and this guy was awful big. When Gramps was dying, Gabe had scavenged on the streets to get money for food and medicine. He’d seen bad stuff happen.
He studied Mako. Clean. Good sturdy clothes. Scary tough. Probably kinda mean. But his gaze was straight; his body was straight. No sign of drugs or alcohol.
And he’d called Phillip a pervert like he hated perverts.
“You’ll take care of us?” Gabe asked carefully. “Feed us an’…and send us to school?”
The man snorted. “Got no school in the wilderness, but you’ll learn, boy. And you’ll eat a far sight better than here. You’ll learn to hunt your own meat. Live off the land. And you’ll be safe when the world goes to hell.”
Was the world supposed to go to hell? That sounded kinda crazy.
Gabe glanced at Phillip, still not moving. Crazy was better than a…a pervert. Or being locked up in a group home. Getting a long way from here would be smart.
“I’ll go with you.” Gabe met the other kids’ looks and spoke for them all. “We’ll go with you.”
“Good enough. Let’s get out of here.” The man turned, and his voice drifted down the hallway. “Start thinking of new names for yourselves.”
Mako hadn’t been joking about a long way away. The sarge took them to Alaska.
Within a month, the other three had found their new names.
A bull moose charged Kana, making him dodge around trees forever, before Mako’d gotten a shot at it. The kid dropped onto the ground, panting and laughing—cuz Kana could laugh at anything. He stared at the monster-sized moose and slapped his chest. “I’m gonna eat him and get as big as him. I’m gonna be a bigga-badda bull.”
Bull had found his name.
When Miguel had trapped a rabbit using just stuff from the forest, Mako said he had the makings of a hunter. Miguel had stared at the trap he’d built. “Cazador. Me llamo Cazador.”
Miguel still hadn’t picked up much English, but the sarge knew Spanish. “You want to be called Cazador?”
Miguel nodded.
Mako crossed his arms over his chest. “Means hunter. Yeah, that’s a good handle, kid. You’re Cazador.”
The first time Derek saw a hawk launch from a branch and snatch up a mouse in its sharp talons, he knew what he wanted to be called. In all the years since, Hawk had never lost his fascination with the predatory birds.
Only Gabe had refused to choose a new name because Gramps had said Mama chose his name especially for him. For who she thought he’d be. Gabriel was a guardian angel, the messenger of God. She’d said she knew her son would someday be a protector. A hero.
He wouldn’t give up his name…or her dream for him.
Trying not to tremble like a coward, that’s what he’d told the sarge.
Mako had been quiet for a long time and then said, “Can’t argue with a mother’s hopes. God knows this fucking world needs more heroes.”