Chasing Fate (Sentinel & Guide)

Chapter 43

[Unedited as usual]

"Hmm?"

Jack slowed down a bit to pay attention. He'd made a conscious effort not to respond to anything but his own name until she stopped addressing him like a complete stranger. 

"Is there a method you prefer for calibration?" 

Ah, the exact thing he was worrying about. He'd have to get used to someone other than his mother being able to almost completely read his mind. 

Calibration was exactly what it sounded like. It was setting his tools to zero so that he could use them to the best of his ability. At any given moment, his senses would hum along at normal and varying levels until something tipped him off. While driving, or resting it was fine, but when he needed to focus, he needed to make sure he was in complete control and awareness. 

When working with a new guide on somethinglike this, calibration was essential for the guide to do their job. They were the sentinel's tether to the outside world. A formally trained guide would know how to work a crime scene and what sense was needed most to get the best analysis. 

All she needed to know was what she was working with. 

"I prefer... Equalizer, Left side."

Fate nodded, "You don't need to worry...I was in a Blair Ellison institute. I can calibrate for any situation you may come across."  

Blair Ellison institutes were prestigious guide training schools. Originally established by the "father of guide studies" Blair Harway-Ellison as a haven for high-sensitivity guides to hone their own skills, after generations of nepotism they were now more often than not finishing schools for rich guide-children. 

Nowadays with guide studies being available even in public schools, only the most special case of guide would need to attend a Blair institute. For Fate however, it made sense. The buildings and dormitories were specially fabricated to isolate the guides so they could practice freely without subjecting the local populace to emotional projections from a hundred teenagers. 

"That's good to know. I should have asked beforehand but...This is most likely a murder case. And I don't know what we're going to come across. If you need to stop, you stop. Don't push youself because of me." 

Fate shook her head, "The institute trained us for every situation.  Assisting with police work is a common and integral part of guide duties." 

Her heartbeat was surprisingly calm and her emotional signature as tight and controlled as he'd ever felt it. But she was lying. 

It wasn't the right kind of lie either. She wasn't covering her nerves or bluffing to make him feel better. She was overwhelmingly prepared to go see whatever it was would meet them in the forest. 

But this wasn't her first crime scene. 

-----------------------------------------------

The entrance to the campground is only a seven minute drive from the diner. Anton waves from the passenger seat in one of the park ranger's trucks. One is in the drivers seat while two rangers, one a sentinel, sit in the truck bed with tranquilizer guns. They are in bear country after all. 

In another truck a trailer has two ATVs and a bed full of sealed boxes. A serious looking woman adjusts a camera and laptop. Fate recognizes the setup. Forensics. 

No one speaks as they drive for a while within the campground. It's only a few more minutes until they reach a dirt road and service access where they park and get out. This far out Jack and Fate's cell phones don't have signal. Their only line of communication would be the walkie-talkies that the rangers used to contact base camp. 

It's nearly 9 when they reached the dirt plateau where they'd switch to the ATVs. As the park rangers worked on helping forensics get the trailer unloaded, Anton came bounding towards Jack and Fate. 

He stopped directly in front of Fate and stuck out his hand. 

"Sorry we had to meet under such paltry circumstances. I'm Anton Ricin, generally I do cold cases, but this one has just gotten pretty hot I'd say." 

Fate nodded and shook his hand, noting that he strangely hadn't addressed the sentinel first, as was protocol. Jack didn't bristle at all either, even though this guide was clearly ignoring his authority. 

Yes, Anton Ricin was a bonded guide. Fate realized it the moment they shook hands and she felt the weak signature. It was very common for guides to work in the police force, but it was unheard of for a guide to work as an investigator. It was considered sentinel's purview. After all, they were born for it, just like how guides were naturals at witness interviews and special victim counseling. 

Fate found herself studying Anton's face. It felt familiar but she wasn't entirely sure how. She'd felt a ping of recognition from him as well, but that wasn't strange. After all, her face had been plastered on the front page of every publication in America for a week. 

She shook her head. She wouldn't have forgotten a face like Anton's. He had a once aqualine nose that was poorly set, leaving it curving ina sharp angle along the center of his face. It didn't seem new at all. Anton wore it like anyone would wear their own nose, unperturbed. If she'd seen him before, she'd know it. 

Otherwise Anton was like most guides, unremarkable. He was only an inch or so taller than Fate, not quite six feet with rather wide frame. He was dressed for the hike in a police polo and khakis, with a dark police cap to keep the sun out. 

He looked like any other forty-year-old public servant. It just didn't track why her mind kept pinging as though she knew him from somewhere and just couldn't place it. 

Anton was the one to break the silence, feeling Fate's confused scrutiny of his person but not of anything else. 

"Here's the anti-cntamination kit," he said, offering her a pair of bags with shielding gowns, gloves, and masks, "The coordinates are about fifteen minutes out on the ATVs. Do you have any questions?"

The older guide was also having trouble getting the full measure of Fate. She was not projecting even a single thread of nervousness about going to visit what would most likely be a week-old murder scene. It was no false bravado either. He'd met plenty of youn, starry eyed kids who thought a real crime sceen would be like those plastic and resin ones on tv. They'd put on an affectation of calm but their nerves would be through the roof. 

"I'll do my best to stay out of the way," Fate said quietly as she tucked the bags into the small hiking pack Jack had lent her, "Do you know the range we should target?"

That wasn't a newbie question at all. High sensitivity sentinels were able to adjust the range of their senses to give themseles even more focus. It was up to the guide to know the best range to aim them at. This was difficult stuff, but it was what put alpha prime sentinels -and the guides that could handle them- ahead of their peers. 

The concept wasn't something that Jack had ever bothered with. He was good enough at sorting sensory input that he just left his senses wide open when he was tracking. So where had she learned it?

He was about to open his mouth and ask when the two other sentinels in their little party came over to Jack. They needed to calibrate and then get on the trail. 

The sentinels, one a park ranger and the other from the forensics team were both familiar with Jack. They were from the clan's outer circle, answering to the local alpha sentinels instead of directly to the Hammonds. But Jack had met them here and there. 

Jack turned to introduce Fate, placing his hand back on her waist as it had been when introducing her at the party just last night. A streak of possessiveness had flashed through him when the two unbonded sentinels had gotten close. But it was gone as quickly as it had come. 

"Officer Tang, Mr. Santos," Jack held out his hand to shake with each, "It's good to put faces to names. This is my guide, Fate Robinson. We'll be calibrating in a moment. First, can you tell me what to expect this time?"