Page 7 of Gentle Warrior
His eyes darkened, haunted. “I heard voices—my uncles, Jim, David, and Reggie—arguing inside.” His jaw clenched tighter, fists squeezing. “Their words were sharp, tense. Things I wasn’t meant to hear.”
He took a shaky breath, voice thick with pain. “They were fighting about whether to tell me who my real dad was. About how Nancy was raped by their older brother, Jonah, a man strung out on drugs, who OD’d when I was two or three.”
His hands tangled into fists on his lap as his eyes focused somewhere distant, shadowed. “I never knew Jonah. But that night, hearing it all… everything I thought I knew about family started to unravel.”
The room fell deeply silent. Nova was first to move, crossing quickly to wrap Moose in a tight, steadying embrace. Her presence was a warm anchor amid his raw admission.
From a corner, a soft voice whispered, “Fourteen years of carrying that alone… no wonder it’s breaking now.”
Others nodded quietly, their faces etched with empathy and respect. No one rushed to fill the silence. Instead, they gave Moose the space needed to carry that weight down—surrounded by a team that understood what it meant to hold so much inside.
Moose shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of his confession still hanging in the air. He scratched the back of his neck and forced a crooked smile, his usual defense kicking in. “Well, that’s enough emotional wreckage for one flight, huh?” His voice cracked slightly on the joke, betraying the embarrassment beneath.
He glanced around at the quiet faces watching him and felt heat rise in his cheeks. Making light used to be his way to keep control, to shove all those hidden feelings down deep where no one could see them. Now that they were out, bare and raw, he wasn’t sure what to do with the vulnerability—it felt exposed, almost foreign.
“Guess I’m not the best at this whole, ‘let it out’ thing,” he muttered, eyes flicking away for a moment before locking back with Dog’s steady gaze. “Thanks for listening… even if I’m a mess.”
The team exchanged knowing glances, their expressions softening with compassion. Nova smiled gently, squeezing Moose’s shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, joking’s how you cope—that’s alright. We get it.”
Dog nodded, his tone warm but firm. “You’ve been carrying a lot alone. Letting it out takes strength, not weakness. We’ve got your back, mess and all.”
Warden offered a half-smile from his seat. “Yeah, we’ve all got our ways of handling the tough stuff. No judgment here.”
Blast and Spider, sitting quietly nearby, gave tentative nods, understanding more than words could say.
The room felt lighter but steady, a circle of silent support letting Moose know he wasn’t alone, no matter how messy the moment.
5 - BEAR
The first pale light of dawn filtered through the thick canopy, casting long shadows across the rugged terrain. Bear, Link, Flora, Sammy, and Rhys hiked to the edge of the creek, where the ground was soft and framed by wildflowers—the place Jim had said Nancy loved most. As they spread out to search, Bear, Link, and Flora kept a close eye on Sammy and Rhys, making sure the boys stayed safe amid the rough terrain while they focused on finding Nancy.
From that bank, Link carefully deployed the thermal drones into the cool morning air. The machines hummed softly as their heat-seeking sensors swept the dense forests and winding creek beds surrounding Jim’s farm.
Link’s fingers danced over the tablet, adjusting flight paths and zooming in on promising heat signatures. “There—south-east side of the creek. Something small… faint, but consistent.”
Flora adjusted the straps of her backpack, her medical kit securely packed inside, keeping her hands free and ready. Her eyes scanned the brush below for any signs of movement.
Following the creek’s edge, Bear led the way over damp earth tangled with fallen leaves and broken branches. The scent of wildflowers mingled with the fresh, musky aroma of the forest floor. They moved carefully, mindful of uneven ground and thick underbrush, pushing aside vines and stepping over gnarled roots.
Along the path, Sammy pointed out broken twigs and flattened grass—the first signs of a recent trail. His keen eyes caught details others might miss, subtle disturbances in the dirt marking where someone had passed.
As they pressed forward, Bear noticed something unsettling—drag marks carved into the soft earth. The scuffed lines ran alongside the creek bank, smoothed earth where it looked like someone had been pulled—or had dragged herself—through the undergrowth.
Bear crouched to examine the marks closely. “These drag marks…looks like she might have been hurt.”
The group exchanged tense looks, the urgency deepening.
The thermal drone hovered over a shadowed rock formation just east of the stream. As they rounded a bend, Rhys’s sharp eyes caught sight of a shallow cave nestled between moss-covered boulders—a dark hollow carved naturally into the rugged terrain.
“There,” Link said, nodding toward the cave entrance. “That’s where the signal’s coming from.”
As they approached the cave entry, Rhys’s voice broke the quiet. “Dad, look here.”
Inside the shallow cave, scattered on the damp soil and among fallen leaves, lay a pile of discarded wrappers and empty plastic water bottles. Nearby, a weathered plastic tote sat with its lid partly ajar, both resting close to the cave’s opening.
Behind the tote, pressed against the back wall of the cave, Nancy lay curled up on a bed of leaves and dirt. She was wrapped tightly in a soft, worn blanket, its faded fabric a quiet refuge amid the mud streaking her torn clothes. She hugged herself protectively, tucked as far back as she could, seeking the calm darkness that eased her restless mind.
Flora stepped inside carefully, raising a hand in a gentle signal. “Everyone, please stay right here outside the cave. I need some space to check on Nancy.”
