Point Pleasant (45 page)

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Authors: Jen Archer Wood

Tags: #Illustrated Novel, #Svetlana Fictionalfriend, #Gay Romance, #Jen Archer Wood, #Horror, #The Mothman, #LGBT, #Bisexual Lead, #Interstitial Fiction, #West Virginia, #Point Pleasant, #Bisexual Romance

BOOK: Point Pleasant
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“Well, bye to you too, then,” he yelled down the corridor, somehow sure that Raziel could still hear him even though he was not there.

Nicholas and Daniel moved forward. Their uniforms were soaked with rain, and identical streaks of unease and confusion painted their features in the sparse light.

Daniel raised his own flashlight to the doorway of the cell. “What the fuck?” he asked, noticing the iron door several feet away where it had skidded to a halt after Raziel tossed it aside.

“How the hell did you get out?” Nicholas repeated, and the incredulity in his eyes filled Ben with the same coldness that emanated from the concrete walls.

“Raziel.”

“Where is he?”

“He just left. Maybe he can’t suffer the company of assholes,” Ben said.

“And yet he talks to you,” Nicholas shot back.

“Cool it, both of you,” Daniel said, his deep voice like the rumble of thunder that still rolled overhead. “I’m going back up front with Thomas. Work this out before you join us because I’m not even remotely close to being in the motherfucking mood for whatever this bullshit is.”

Daniel gave Nicholas a look before he strode down the corridor, still clutching his Glock in his right hand.

“What’s his problem?” Ben asked when Daniel disappeared around the corner.

“It’s been a long fucking night, Ben.”

“No fucking shit, Sheriff. What happened with the kids?”

“They were asleep,” Nicholas said, huffing out a disgusted laugh. “The babysitter was spooked because the lights were out, but she was fine too. She just wanted to get home to her mom. We went around to some of the officers’ houses. Most of them were in bed and didn’t even know about the power outage. Said they got a call from me earlier telling them to go home for the night.”

“Azazel called them,” Ben said.

“Apparently. He’s got one hell of a monthly calling plan.”

Ben said nothing. Nicholas shook his head and regarded the open doorway of the cell in silence before he spoke again, continuing without Ben’s prompting for more information.

“We rendezvoused back on Main Street because we’d split up. And I saw it again. It was leaping from one roof to the next. I pumped a full clip into it, but it just kept going. We followed it all the way out to River Bend Road before we lost sight of it in the forest out past Tucker’s farm.”

“Is Tucker okay?”

“Fuck knows,” Nicholas said. “Your buddy came over all the radios. Told us to get back here immediately. Looks like he’s been doing my job for me again.” He nodded to the crushed door down the hall and let out a bitter snicker. The sarcasm of his final statement made Ben clench his jaw so tightly that his molars ached.

“Well, fuck you very much
for riding in on your white steed anyway, Sheriff. Especially after you’re the one who put me in there.”

A fierce sheen engulfed Nicholas’ eyes. “You’re at the top of this thing’s hit list, Ben. And I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.”

“So you locked me up and left me with it?”

In the beams of their flashlights, Ben saw Nicholas falter.

“I didn’t leave you with it,” Nicholas said, taking on a defensive tone as if Ben had accused him of stealing the Camaro. “We secured the building. And we just chased it across town.”

“I told you,” Ben said, “it’s not just him. There are going to be others. Sounds like you met one. But
he
was here almost the whole time. So thanks for that. And for treating me like I’m some fucking pet you can shove into a cage when you’re not playing with it.”

“I don’t think that,” Nicholas said, and he grabbed Ben’s arm before Ben could stalk down the hallway. “But it’s
my
job to put my neck out there, not
yours
. And if this was the only way to keep you safe while I’m not around, I’d lock you up again. But I didn’t know it was here. I wouldn’t have left you if I’d known.”

“I don’t need
you
protecting me,” Ben said, jerking away from the sheriff’s grasp. “I need
you
giving
me
a fucking say in what happens to me. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time. And you weren’t there for any of it because you didn’t want to be. So don’t pull this Super Sheriff shit on me now. I’m not in the motherfucking mood either.”

Nicholas stiffened at Ben’s words. A part of Ben hoped they stung just as much as Nicholas’ had when he spoke them from the other side of the Plexiglas window.

“Ben, I’m sorry, I was just—” Nicholas trailed off and retreated a few paces until he was flush against the wall on the other side of the corridor. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to put you in a cage or take away your choice. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as I want to hit you right now,” Ben said, ignoring the apology.

Nicholas straightened. “Then hit me if it makes you feel better.”

“Always a goddamn hero,” Ben said with and empty laugh.

“I thought you were dead earlier!” Nicholas shouted. “You wouldn’t wake up, you selfish asshole. I don’t want to see you die. So fucking sue me! I
love
you, you fucking idiot. Maybe you don’t like the idea of someone else looking out for you, but you need to get the fuck over that right now. Especially if you
insist
on throwing yourself into harm’s way like you did earlier.”

“Maybe it’d be easier for me if you’d stop ordering me around like I’m one of your goddamn deputies and treated me like
whatever the fuck
I am to you.”

Nicholas withdrew as if Ben had aimed the Remington at his head. His gaze was as doleful as Evelyn Lewis’ had been the afternoon she told them that Raphael the roadside turtle had gone home to his maker.

“You’re everything to me, Ben,” he whispered. “Haven’t you understood that yet?”

The sincerity of the admission struck Ben like a blow to the throat. He considered Nicholas for a long moment before he looked at his feet.

“I love you too, asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicholas said, eyeing Ben with caution. “We should check in with Ford and Thomas.”

Ben nodded. Nicholas led them down the corridor and reached for the shotgun in Ben’s hands.

“I got it,” Ben said, pulling away.

Nicholas frowned, but he said nothing.

Astrid and Daniel stood by the main door, each staring out into the night. The storm had finally started to wane, and the roll of thunder was a low, distant clamor. Astrid looked back over her shoulder and glanced at Ben with wide eyes.

“What’s the plan, Sheriff?” Daniel asked, having apparently reined in whatever mood had overtaken him outside the holding cell.

“Sun will be up in a few hours,” Nicholas said. “We should ride out the rest of the night here. The next shift will arrive at six.”

“And if something else happens?” Daniel asked.

“Did you bring the bag inside?”

Astrid gestured to a desk. Ben’s duffel bag sat on the surface.

“You went up to the factory?” Ben asked.

“We needed it,” Nicholas said, his tone brusque. “You should sit down. You look pale.”

Ben scowled, and Astrid cleared her throat as she stepped forward. She gestured for Ben to join her by another desk and pulled a bottle of Tylenol from one of its drawers.

“Take two,” she said. “I’d wager you’ve got an asshole of a headache.”

Ben took the two tablets when offered and swallowed them dry. He tried to ignore the way Nicholas paused to watch as if to make sure Ben was a good little boy who took his medicine when told.

Daniel joined Nicholas’ side, and Ben noticed the two 1100 tactical shotguns that rested next to the duffel bag. The officers were tightlipped while they loaded the magazines and pumped the forends. The satisfying click of the loaded guns was a comfort. Nicholas shone his flashlight over to Ben, seemed to consider him for a moment, then walked over and offered him a fistful of fresh rounds. Ben loaded two and pocketed the rest.

“I’m gonna take Ben to my office. I’ll be back in a sec,” Nicolas told his deputies. He passed his shotgun to Astrid and turned to Ben.

Ben did not move at first, but Nicholas’ insistent stare forced his feet into action. He followed Nicholas down the hallway and was quiet even after the door to the office was shut behind them. Nicholas took a moment to ensure that the room and its adjacent bathroom were empty. Ben loitered by the cluttered desk.

“How is your head?” Nicholas asked when he was satisfied that they were alone.

“I’ll live,” Ben said, and he was aware that they were now tiptoeing their way around a minefield of their own making.

“Are you hungry?” Nicholas asked at last, and a part of Ben ached at how forced and controlled the other man sounded. “There might be food in the break room. Coffee, at least.”

“I’m fine.”

Nicholas closed the distance between them, though his steps were tentative. The pads of his fingertips were rough when he reached up and stroked Ben’s right cheek. Ben closed his eyes and leaned toward the touch. Nicholas pulled back after a few fleeting seconds of contact, and Ben frowned at the loss.

“You should rest, Ben.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just you,” Nicholas murmured.

Ben stepped forward, but Nicholas receded a few paces.

“It’s really not the time,” Nicholas whispered, and he adjusted the duty belt around his waist as if to occupy his hands. “Get some rest.”

The refusal sounded gentle, but there was a firmness to Nicholas’ tone that made Ben flounder.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, withdrawing.

“Ben,” Nicholas started, but Ben held up a hand.

Ben took off his coat and wished he could remove his bruised ego as easily. He tossed the garment and his flashlight to the floor in the corner. After a few seconds of hesitation, he passed the Remington to Nicholas, who took it and furrowed his brow in confusion. Ben moved away.

“I’ll leave the door open,” Nicholas said. “I’m gonna go up front to keep a look out. I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

“Let me know if you want me to take over,” Ben said, settling down on his coat with his back to Nicholas.

“We’ll be fine.”

Ben stared at the drywall. He was reminded of naptime in preschool when he would toss and turn uncomfortably on the floor of a playroom with rough, prickly carpet while a stern teacher told him to just close his eyes and go to sleep.

“Ben,” Nicholas said with the same dejection that the beers at The Point had allowed to creep through just a few nights prior.

“What?”

There was a long silence, and Nicholas seemed to lose the motivation to continue. “Nothing. Just go to sleep.”

Ben did not reply. The sound of boots on marble heralded Nicholas’ exit. When he returned twenty minutes later,
Ben pretended to be asleep until he left again. The lingering echo of Caroline Wisehart’s voice rang through him like the chime of bells in a church tower, and he did not allow himself to sleep; he knew his mother would be waiting for him on the kitchen floor of his dreams.

Illustration, Chapter Three. “
Attacus atlas
.”

Illustration, Chapter Four. “
Hepialus humuli
.”

Chapter Four

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