Assigned to G.H.O.S.T.: Pike Evans Adventure Series, #1

By Suz Eglington

He encountered a secret operation, losing the freedom to change his impulsive decision. Now an outlaw, Pike Evans is committed to delivering this highly classified confidential container. What he didn't know is who was waiting at the drop site.

Big Sky, United States highways. 30-year-old Pike Evans, a second-generation transportation driver, is in a three-year slump. With three things already gone bad this morning, luck has to change. Nearly getting clipped by a semi-tractor trailer is not the turnaround he hoped for.

 

Something's not right.

 

The oversized teamster swerving ahead, and steering into the breakdown lane. Pike follows in his produce truck stopping behind the rig. Grabbing his phone off the dash, he approaches to see if the driver needs medical attention.

 

Government plate, no other markings. A slight mist rolling off the sides. Pike reaches for the handles pulling himself up to look inside.  He calls, "You okay bud? You nearly hit me." He sees the driver clutching his chest.

Pike pulls the door open, and the man grabs him by the shirt with a free hand.

 

"These wheels must keep moving!" There's anger in his voice as he let's go of Pike, holding his chest again. The driver desperate. "This is a National Emergency, kid. Less than a minute, the sky lights up brighter than the sun. Get in. We need to move this container, now!"

 

Pike realized what this was. He'd heard rumors of the Ghost Fleet; he just never imagined he'd meet one of them.

 

Action/Suspense, Military, Humor, Sci Fi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suz Eglington
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9798224741472

Book preview

ASSIGNED to G.H.O.S.T.

Pike Evans Adventure Series

Suz Eglington

Alright, everyone...chill!

—Batman and Robin

Assigned to Ghost Copyright © 2020 by Suz Eglington. All Rights Reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. 

Cover designed by Suzanne Eglington 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

Suz Eglington

Visit website at www.suzeglington.com 

Printed in the United States of America

Edited by: 

Edwards Editing

April 2021

First Printing: September 2020

Independently Published

Contents

ASSIGNED to G.H.O.S.T.

Meeting a Ghost

GPS Says Yes

The Heat Is On

Gus Kittrick

New Recruit

Dry Run

All the Marbles

Critical Thinking

Skeletons in the Closet

Exorcising a Demon

Embrace the Suck

Can’t We Just Get Along

This Is Just a Test

Not Even if You Were the Last Person on Earth

Smoking Barrels

On the Seventh Day, Rest

Three Tickets to Paradise

East Bound and Down

Meeting a Ghost

SOME BELIEVE WE ARE not the only life forms in the universe. Others believe in a higher power. Then there is the government, who believes in keeping secrets.

Pike looked at the ceiling, the price of oil was ridiculous. Last time he checked there was about a quarter tank left. Now with cooler weather ahead and Jackie home all day, this was going to cost him even more money. A second job was inevitable. Perhaps he should look into long distant hauling. It pays a heck of a lot more from his earnings now.

Twenty minutes before it was time to get up, he drummed his right fingers in sequence. Pinky, ring, middle, and index, pinky, ring, middle, index tapped precise on his chest running through the calculations this week was going to cost him. End result. Take home pay, eight dollars.

That’s what he figured was left after the bills this paycheck. Turning his head to the night stand he waited watching the cell phone and realizing he was holding his breath.

This can’t be as good as it gets.

He waited milking every second to stay in bed. He turned facing right. Jackie was asleep. Two months ago, it was a pleasure to wake up with her. She was affectionate back then. Pike shifted left, picking up his phone and switched his wake-up alarm to the siren noise out of spite for her to wake up. He placed the phone back on the nightstand and turned to watch what happened next.

The siren sounded as she swung back to hit him where she could reach without turning too much. He grabbed his phone, mind still racing, considering it wasn’t so bad when he was enlisted. Army life was less complicated.

Pike, sat upward in bed. There was no turning back. Bills needed to be paid and he could kiss any remaining money away, because Jackie, most likely, wanted to drink her hard seltzers this weekend. Maybe she would get up and make him coffee like she did when she first moved in.

He turned his head to see, but her arm had returned, and her back was facing him. No further movement from her. Pike could practically smell her coffee now. The bitter tasted, the strong scent. Her coffee could wake the dead.

She never measured, just poured the bag until she thought there was enough. He still drank it. One less chore to do while it briefly lasted. There was a lesson he learned, it made him pay better attention to coffee flavors. He knew the difference between dark and blond roast because of that.

Still no activity from her now. Figures. He looked around his room. His bedroom set was handed down from some family member. He forgot who, but it was in great condition and it was free. Pike leaned, pressing the lamp toggle to illuminate the lack of light this time of morning. The change in temperature hit his exposed skin with a shiver. In one swift move, he lifted his old army blanket and twisted to touch his feet on the ground. Pike stretched, sitting upright. The chill made him twitch again. Fall was approaching fast, as he rubbed his arms, he blew out a yeesh from the chill. Labor Day weekend ahead, and maybe it was time to have the talk with Jackie to help with bills and get a part time job. Why should he work all the time?

She fully moved upward, like a killer whale breaching from the sea, and protested a huff. He had disrupted her sleep. She jerked her body toward him in exaggeration, grabbing his pillow to cover her head, returning to the stack of blankets she adjusted back on top of her.

Pike shifted his upper body half around, watching her tantrum as he scrubbed his head, chasing away the urge to say something. His mind was on money. He also needed to check when the sewer bill was due. His dad didn’t mention it in their last phone call.

Time to get moving. He didn’t have the luxury to do nothing all day. With his hands on the bed, using the mattress for leverage, he forced himself up. Pike stood and stretched again. This time a few cracks popped from his back. Much better and ready to snap into morning routine. Pike scanned the floor, searching for clean laundry. He needed his work pants.

The first ones he spotted were dirty from yesterday; he dropped them down. Not those. Pike stepping over clothes, he glanced at the laundry baskets near the door. Sweet. Score. He stared at what looked like a pair of navy-blue cargos and pulled them to the surface. One whiff from the basket made him drop them instantly. He could not wear these. They must have been from last week.

Now was the time to say something. He turned to Jackie, irritated that this load of laundry had been sitting here all week.

You couldn’t find time to do a load of laundry in seven, eight days?

She shot up again, sitting erect, hands on the bed by her sides, ready to retaliate, her judgmental eyes now glaring back at him.

What, and leave you nothing to complain about? I ran out of detergent. You didn’t give me money. I told you this three days ago.

Last thing he wanted to do was confront the money issue right now, but having no clean uniform pants irritated him.

You could get a job, you know.

I have a disability.

I didn’t realize laziness qualified.

I do enough around here.

Well, you could use some of that money you get from the government to buy laundry detergent.

I buy the food. That is your deal.

Your food stamps buy food.

It’s still mine. It comes from me.

Since all you get is junk food, and you are the only one who eats it, I suppose you are right.

She stretched over to her nightstand, grabbing her e-cigarette, and turned back toward him. She wasn’t finished with this conversation.

He observed all the small piles of clothes scattered on the floor, the dirty dishes on the bureau, the empty cigarette magazines on her nightstand. There she sat, blowing out the vapor, glaring hard at him, waiting for another comment.

It was still the middle of the night to her, but she waited for him to say something else. He took in her unkempt, long, goldish-blonde, morning hair, her black eyeliner-smeared eyes, how she wore his old Kid Rock concert T-shirt.

He wasn’t talking, so she pointed out, I need money if you want me to wash those. I don’t have it.

He walked around, looking for a clean shirt, pushing clothes aside, disgusted at living like this. His mother never liked Jackie anyway. She accused her of stealing cash from her wallet when he brought her over for dinner one night. She wasn’t allowed there anymore.

He opened his dresser drawer, finding a clean, navy-blue T-shirt, folded. This was how he did laundry. He remembered doing this load not too long ago.

One good thing about the army, they taught him how to fold a T-shirt properly. This would substitute for his uniform shirt today. He’d gotten away with this before.

He scanned the floor, picking the less-dirty pants off the ground.

You know, Jackie, maybe it’s time you moved on. Get your own place.

Fuck you.

Yeah, you don’t even do that anymore. Reminding him that he didn’t even get erections in the morning anymore.

You are a fucking jerk, Pike. No one is going to put up with your shit. She put down her cigarette magazine. You’re cheap, and your dick is small. You can’t even get me off.

He finished dressing, slipping on his black sneakers.

Maybe that’s because you’re too loose. Be out by the time I get back. I mean it. He pointed at her, then to the door. Swiping his phone off the nightstand, Pike closed the bedroom door on her string of profanities. He found his keys and wallet and pulled the house door hard behind him.

You’re late, again. Mr. Rizzio tapped his watch in Pike’s face.

Sorry about that, sir.

Rizzio followed closely behind, going on about running out of reasons to keep him. He walked closely next to Pike all the way to the stack of boxes waiting on the pallet for him. The rear door on the box truck was stuck closed, giving Pike a reason to be rough with it instead of his manager Rizzio.

Tomorrow would be payday, and Pike could plan his next move after cashing his check. His father would understand, most likely be happy that Jackie was gone. Freeloader, he called her.

Pike picked up the clipboard. Fifteen stops today. Everyone hated Wednesdays. Longest day of the delivery week. All the produce boxes were marked and ready. Jerry walked from around the corner, removing his apron, glancing at Rizzio jabbering at Pike. He kept from laughing but couldn’t stop the grin. He knew what was happening and couldn’t help himself from needling the situation. He mocked Pike, Late again, brotha’? Got a big load today. Holiday weekend – you better get moving, lazy. His lips stretched unable to hide the amusement, and he slapped Pike’s shoulder. What do you say we shoot some hoops later? I should be awake by the time you get back.

Yeah, sure.

Good luck, man.

Get some sleep, buddy.

Jerry clocked out, whistling as he disappeared around the corner.

Pike loaded the box truck with Mr. Rizzio continually walking over to check on him.

Evans, you gotta get moving. Speed it up. All the other trucks were leaving.

He glanced up, nearly finished.  Yes, sir.

He finally pulled out on the road at five, only fifteen minutes later than normal, and it was still dark out. The only ones on the highways this time of morning were long-distance commuters, truckers, and Kojaks. Pike was about an hour from his first stop and glanced at the time displayed on his phone, then tossed it on the dashboard in front of him. They left him with the loudest truck for being late. This radio doesn’t even work anymore. Pike fiddled with it in hopes of finding something other than static, only to give up, hitting the damn thing in frustration. He listened – that didn’t even fix it.

In this particular box truck, the driver needed to have the window partially down. They still hadn’t fixed the exhaust problem, and he didn’t want a headache, or to die this morning.

Pike shivered, chilled by the morning air, and hoped the heater would work better soon. He drove along with one hand on the wheel and his left elbow resting on the driver’s window frame. At least the air, as chilly as it was, would freshen up his clothes some. Laundry detergent was a must at one of his stops. Mrs. Kim would give him a deal. She liked Pike because he  brought her order right over to the produce displays. She always had a cup of ginseng tea ready to go for him. Liquid speed he would joke with her. He pulled his paperwork over. She was his fifth stop. Perfect. That would keep him going for the rest of the day.

It would be daybreak in another half hour as the overhead lights on the highway reflected off his hood, then windshield, in a pattern that looked as if he were driving in a tunnel. He supposed, with no radio to listen to and the long drive ahead, this time of morning was good for thinking. Re-evaluate the present circumstances.

Jackie was first reflecting on what happened this morning. He nodded