Stay_Men of Hidden Creek

by Avery Ford

  “You know, it really would have been better if they had an option to get rid of commercials altogether,” Hale’s mother said. “Maybe tiered levels of service, you know? If you pay a premium, then you don’t have to sit through them. The suspense kills me.”

  “That’s why we’ve moved to streaming,” Aunt Susan said. “Why watch commercials or limit what’s on? You can watch any show any time you want, as long as it’s available.”

  “But don’t they take shows away all the time?”

  “They do, but it’s not like they don’t do that on cable television, either.”

  The conversation droned on. Hale ate a forkful of peas, glanced toward Uncle John, and assessed from the pinched look on his face that while he didn’t want to hear anything more about television, he also didn’t want to hear about his missing son. If Michael had been more reliable, then maybe it would have triggered alarm bells, but ever since he’d come back from the Navy, he’d been different. Not bad different, but changed. The cool older cousin who’d given Hale his shot at popularity and turned around his reputation in his freshman year was gone. The new Michael wasn’t dependable, and try as Hale might to bridge their distant relationship, Michael wasn’t overly interested in revisiting old times.

  “You know, now that I’m thinking about it...” Uncle John trailed off thoughtfully. No one had been talking to him, and with Hale’s mother and Aunt Susan wrapped up in conversation, he didn’t think that he was talking to them. “If you’re worried about Michael, why don’t you go visit his apartment after dinner. You have a spare key, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Michael had entrusted it to him, knowing that Hale was less likely to lose his spare than he was. “I don’t want to invade his privacy.”

  “At this point, he’s had enough privacy. Maybe having someone show up at his place will snap him back to his senses and bring him back down to earth. He’s taken enough two and three- week vacations for a lifetime—it’s time you got a break, too. You’ve been putting in too much time at the store. It’s not healthy.”

  “A vacation?” Hale sat up a little straighter. “Are you serious?”

  “When’s the last time you had a weekend?” Uncle John asked.

  Hale couldn’t remember. He frowned and was about to mention a nebulous time before Michael had gone missing, but Uncle John cut him off before he could get that far.

  “If you can’t answer right away, it means you haven’t been treated right. Find Michael, send his slacker ass back to work, and let him cover for you for once. The new hire—Lily—she’s been asking for some extra hours, anyway. I’m sure she’ll be glad to cover for you while you’re away.”

  The news was shocking. Hale grinned. Working at his aunt and uncle’s sports supply store was good, but he’d reached a point where he needed some time away. There were only so many hours he could spend dusting shelves, following up on custom orders, and half-heartedly flirting with the men who came in looking for gear. If he took some time off, maybe he could clear his head and find his center again... and even if he couldn’t do that, he could certainly find Michael. Hidden Creek was small. There weren’t all that many places to look.

  “What’s that?” Aunt Susan asked. The conversation about streaming had ended, and both women snapped back to reality. “Did you just give Hale some time off, dear? Who’s going to look after the shop until Michael gets back?”

  “Lily’s been asking for hours,” Uncle John repeated. “The boy deserves some time off. Can you remember the last time he took a break?”

  “He was probably sixteen,” Hale’s mother chuckled. “What are you going to do with your time, Hale?”

  “Well, first I’m going to find Michael.” Hale beamed. “And after that, I’m not sure I care as long as I can kick back and do absolutely nothing.”

  After dinner, Hale cut across Moore Wood park, narrowly dodging an encounter with the resident angry goose who’d taken up permanent residence in the pond. When he was out of harm’s way, Hale smoothed back his hair, took a deep breath, and glanced over his shoulder. The goose’s wings were still outstretched, and he glared at Hale from the invisible line the goose considered the edge of his territory.

  Can geese even glare? I guess so. That’s one angry bird.

  Michael’s apartment wasn’t all that far from the park. The complex was well-maintained and well-lit, which was a blessing, as the sun had dipped low on the horizon, and dreary shadows were starting to give way to the dark.

  Hale ducked in through the front door and followed the hallway to the right of the lobby until he arrived at Michael’s door.

  “Hey, Michael.” Hale knocked loudly three times. “It’s Hale. You have like, fifteen seconds to put the porn away and cover yourself before I come inside and embarrass you.”

  No response.

  Hale frowned, knocked again, and waited. Nothing. He didn’t even hear movement from inside.

  “Well... I warned you.” He fitted the key in the lock, remarking on the wear and tear around the keyhole. Michael was twenty-five now, but he was still a partier. It looked like he’d come home drunk on more than one occasion and scratched the metal while trying to slot the key in the keyhole. Maybe he’d gone on a bender and was already passed out.

  Hale opened the door and let himself inside. The apartment reeked. The television was running, which told Hale that Michael was somewhere in the house.

  If he’s ignoring me on purpose, I’m not going to let him hear the end of it. What the hell is going on, Michael?

  Hale closed the door and headed down the entrance hall to the living room. The bathroom door was open, the room dark. It wasn’t like Michael was in the shower and unable to answer the door.

  “Your dad says that you’ve got to go back to work,” Hale declared as he made his way down the hall. “I’m working doubles to cover for you, and while the extra money has been nice for my savings, I’m ready to take some time off.”

  He emerged in the living room to find it empty. The television played for no one. Hale frowned and squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Something random was playing on Michael’s television—some teenage drama, by the looks of it. Whatever show it was, it definitely wasn’t to Michael’s taste.

  “Michael?” Hale called, raising his voice. Now that he was inside the apartment, he knew Michael had to hear him. He found the television remote on the coffee table and turned the television off. “I’m not fourteen anymore, you know. Ignoring me isn’t cool. Where are you?”

  Now that the apartment was quiet, it was eerie. The fine hair on the back of Hale’s neck stood on end. He’d been in haunted houses less creepy than this place. Any second now, he anticipated some zombie-Michael would come shambling out of one of the darkened rooms, eager to eat his brains.

  “Michael?”

  Something weird was going on. Hale knew that Michael wasn’t the most responsible person, but he wouldn’t have kept his television on if he’d left the apartment.

  Hale took a second to glance around the room. Nothing seemed out of place—at least, not that he could tell. There was a small mess on the coffee table where he’d found the remote, largely bills and junk mail. Michael had a few of his pay stubs left on the table, but Hale didn’t bother to investigate them. They worked in the family business together—there were very few secrets to be had.

  “I swear to god, if you’re a zombie or if there’s some alien creature waiting around the corner for me, I’m going to be pissed. This isn’t funny. And if you have a dashcam or something set up to record my reaction? I don’t care how buff you are from your military days—I’ll end you.”

  At twenty-one, Hale was aware that he was still tiny. Built like a twig, he’d never outgrown his teenage body—which had its advantages when it came to agility, but which sucked when he found himself targeted by some bigot with a grudge.

  “I’m going to ruin your footage,” Hale declared to the empty room. “Good luck putting this up for ad reve
nue on YouTube. Cock, balls, fuck, goddammit, bastard, shit...”

  He continued to rattle off vulgar words as he left the living room and entered the kitchen, certain that Michael would be waiting there to ambush him. Only, Hale entered the kitchen to find nothing.

  Not Michael, not some horror movie prop, not even a dashcam.

  What he did find was more disturbing than any of that.

  There was a fuzzy blue and white mass loosely wrapped in plastic in the sink, and it stank to high heaven. Hale cringed, reached for one of the steak knives left in the dish rack, and poked at the mass. It turned over with a wet plop to reveal a fleshy underbelly.

  It was a chicken breast, he realized, so badly molded that it was unrecognizable from the top. Hale gagged, dropped the knife, and stepped back. It wasn’t like Michael had forgotten about the chicken breast for a day or two—mold like that took time to grow. Had he been out of his apartment for the full three weeks he’d been missing? There had to be an explanation.

  A chill swept down Hale’s spine.

  He can’t be dead, can he? He... he couldn’t be. He has way too much to live for...

  The darkness of Michael’s quiet bedroom was more terrifying than any zombie. Bile rose up Hale’s throat, and he struggled to keep himself in check. He’d volunteered to come out here—it was his duty to make sure that Michael wasn’t in trouble.

  He squared his shoulders and approached the bedroom door, mentally preparing himself for what he might see. He set on hand on the doorframe, then exhaled slowly and prepared to step into the room when a jarring noise made him jump.

  Someone was knocking on the door.

  Hale stepped away from the bedroom, heart racing, and went to see who it was.

  Chapter Three

  Austin

  There was a kid creeping around McMillan’s apartment. Austin had heard him snooping around outside the door, making one hell of a racket, then he’d overheard as he opened and closed the door. Once upon a time, when they were still on good terms with each other during their high school days, Austin had thought that Michael was cool. After having served in the Navy alongside him, he no longer held the same opinion—but that didn’t mean that he wanted to see Michael’s apartment stolen from or vandalized.

  Austin counted the seconds, making sure the intruder felt nice and at home, before he slipped out the door and headed across the hall to check on what the hell was going on in his neighbor’s place. Had it not been for the yelling, Austin would have thought that Michael had finally hired on a cleaning lady. The stench in his apartment had started to seep out into the hall, and Austin smelled it even now as he stood in front of Michael’s door.

  He lifted his fist to knock only to find his hands were trembling again.

  I need to get a grip. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m the one with the advantage, here. If he has a weapon, I know how to disarm him. If he doesn’t, I know I’ll be able to improvise better than he ever could... so why the hell am I shaking again? I’m not weak. I can do this.

  Darkness haunted the corners of Austin’s vision as he pushed forward and knocked on the door, not afraid to be loud. Whoever the hell was in Michael’s apartment should be scared. Austin would see to it that they got what was coming to them. He didn’t take kindly to thieves.

  When no one answered the door, Austin knocked again, louder this time.

  “I know you’re in there,” he said, letting his voice dip down into the intimidating baritone notes he reserved for serious business. “Pretending that you’re not inside is only going to make things worse. Open up the door.”

  To his surprise, the door opened. A young, well-dressed man with flawless auburn hair and a stick-skinny physique stood there. He was tall and baby-faced, and his wide blue eyes looked at Austin in awestruck confusion.

  Austin recognized him a split second later. He dropped his hand. The tremor stopped.

  “... Hale?”

  “Austin?” Hale offered him a little smile. “You’re... wow. You’ve grown up. The last time I remember seeing you was at your graduation. Um, I was there for Michael, you know... because he graduated, too.”

  Austin didn’t know what to say. He kept his gaze locked on Hale, trying to figure out if he was hallucinating or not. The last time he’d seen Hale McMillan, he’d been a tiny freshman going into his sophomore year—barely anything more than a kid. Now he was...

  Fuck, he grew up. Where the hell did time go?

  “I’m not the only one who grew up,” Austin said. He slid his hands into his back pockets, playing it casual. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway? I’ve never seen you here before.”

  Hale’s reply was soaked in sarcasm. “I’m Michael’s cousin, Austin. Why do you think I might be here?”

  “Did he invite you in?” Austin asked, replying back with sarcasm in kind. It had been a long time since anyone had treated him like a normal person, and he was both as stunned at the feeling as he was frightened by it. It was the first taste of normalcy he’d had in quite some time. “I heard you knocking and causing a fuss, twerp. I’m pretty sure he’s not home... and if that’s the case, then you’re trespassing. Do you want to start your arrest record here?”

  “Oh, honey,” Hale shot him a wicked grin that Austin wasn’t able to easily process. It caught him by surprise and disarmed his defenses. “That’s cute that you think I’m innocent. I’ll take the compliment. Really, you’re too kind.”

  Who the hell is this kid, and what did he do with the Hale I know?

  “Here’s the deal,” Hale said. “I’m worried about Michael. His parents don’t think it’s a big deal, but I know him in a way they don’t, and I happen to think that something’s happening. If you’re going to cause a stink because I’m investigating his apartment to make sure everything’s still okay, then you seriously need to have the stick up your ass de-thorned. You know who I am, you know that he knows who I am, and more than that—” Hale dug into his pocket and produced a door key, “—he gave me his spare key, which pretty much entitles me to check on him if I think something fishy’s going on.”

  The shy boy Michael had brought to Austin’s house party in the first few weeks of senior year was nothing like the sassy young man before him. If it wasn’t for his auburn hair and almost-too-pretty-to-be-real blue eyes, Austin would have thought that he was someone else—but there was no mistaking Hale’s trademark look.

  “You said something fishy’s going on,” Austin said. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know yet. I was in the middle of investigating when you came slamming your hammy fists against the door.” Hale pointed at Austin’s hands, which were shaking yet again. “I know that it’s exciting to see me—I mean, sometimes I get excited to see myself, so I totally understand where you’re coming from—but you really don’t need to shake with excitement. I promise, if you’re good to me, you can come see me anytime you want.”

  It wasn’t often that Austin was taken aback. He’d been through hell with the Navy, and hard to stomach situations had left him immune to most shocking scenarios. Or at least, that had been the case before the accident. Now, faced with Hale’s cockiness, he found himself at a loss for words.

  Hale chuckled. He cocked his head to the side and looked Austin in the eyes. “Well, I didn’t think that I’d get a reaction like that out of you. If you want to be that good for me, then you can definitely come ‘round whenever you please.”

  “What are you talking about?” Austin demanded.

  Hale hitched an eyebrow and pointed at Austin’s crotch. Austin looked down and was mortified to discover he was hard. His cock strained against the front of his sweatpants—he’d been lounging around his apartment, trying to find the motivation to do the dishes when he’d heard Hale creeping around.

  “Shit,” Austin muttered. He tried to shift his thighs to hide his bulge, but it was no use. Unless he adjusted himself, he wasn’t going to get any coverage—and he had no intention of doing such
a thing in front of his high school friend’s younger cousin. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that...” Hale snorted, then shook his head. “But seriously, Austin, are we good? If you’re worried that I’m going to rob Michael of his impressive second-hand television with the busted pixels, or maybe his top of the line, flat-cushioned couch with the upholstery all chewed to shreds, then you can watch me while I’m going through the apartment if you want. I really don’t care. All I need to do is finish my sweep of the rooms to see if Michael is here or not. I’m worried about him.”

  Austin eyed him, trying to get a sense of whether Hale was telling the truth. His gut was good, and right now it wasn’t telling him that he had anything to be worried about. Hale had never been a bad kid, and if anything did turn up missing, Austin would know who was responsible.

  Besides, it wasn’t any of his damned business, anyway. The guy had a key. If Michael trusted him that much, then there was no reason to worry. All Austin had to do was mind his own business and let Hale do whatever he wanted.

  “You know what?” Austin asked, quirking an eyebrow. “You go on ahead. It’s not really any of my business, anyway. But if you find Michael inside? Tell him to clean his damn apartment. It reeks all the way down the hall.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’re the one with the key. I guess it becomes your problem then, doesn’t it?”

  A flash of emotion passed through Hale’s eyes. Austin had a hard time identifying what it was, but he knew everything it wasn’t. It wasn’t hostility, because Hale’s expression didn’t sour. It wasn’t irritation, either, or anger, or even indignity. Whatever it was, it was charged in a way that Austin felt it tingling all the way down in the depths of his gut, like something had hooked him to Austin and wasn’t about to let go.

  He took a step back to try to put some distance between himself and the man who’d made him feel something. The fog of depression that typically kept outside stimuli from breaching Austin’s soul was gone, and for the first time since he’d come back to Hidden Creek, he felt like he’d found a foothold in something.