Trapped in Your Storm

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Trapped in Your Storm Page 20

by Darien Cox


  ****

  “So this here monitors all alerts from the internet, anything that mentions Singing Bear Village and certain key words. This one’s for calls to the police, keeps a log, keywords will bump calls up the list and send them to Ogden first. And this email is for any urgent disinformation matters Ogden needs me to deal with. Documents or reports I have to doctor. Legal stuff. Or illegal as the case may be.”

  “Huh.”

  Elliot glanced back at Nolan. “Riveting, right?”

  Nolan laughed. “I already knew what you did. Just never saw the setup before.”

  Nolan had allowed Elliot to log into his computer so he could check on things. Now Nolan sat behind him, an arm leaning on Elliot’s shoulder. Elliot liked how Nolan had progressed to casual touching whenever they were close. The touching wasn’t always sexual, but definitely a step up from friendship, and it felt good to Elliot, comforting.

  “Things look blessedly quiet today,” Elliot said, and logged out of everything. He shifted and faced Nolan. “So what do you want to do?”

  Nolan tugged Elliot’s earlobe and grinned. “Whatever you want to do.”

  “What do you do when no one’s around? And don’t say masturbate. We all do that.”

  Nolan laughed and stood. He paced a circle in the basement room, shrugged, and pointed to the weight bench. “I work out.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Or play around with designs for work. Ogden stuff.”

  Elliot got up and approached Nolan, his body needing to follow him like a magnet was drawing it, wanting to stay close. “And what do you do for fun?”

  Nolan smiled, rolling his eyes. “Pretty much hang out with you guys.”

  Elliot laughed. “Yeah. Guess that pretty much describes my life too. Sans the obsessive working out.”

  “Yeah, well.” Nolan approached and playfully pinched Elliot’s ass. “The running and pushups you’ve been doing shows. Your physique looks okay to me. And now I’ve seen all of it.”

  Elliot hugged Nolan around the waist and bit his shoulder.

  “Ouch! Fucking monkey.”

  Leaning in, Elliot kissed him, and Nolan gabbed his face, making it deeper. His hands slid under the front of Elliot’s shirt as he eased back. “Yeah. Your body feels just fine to me.”

  Elliot laughed and pulled away when Nolan pinched his nipples. “Glad you approve. Don’t think I’d do too well with this shit though.” He moved to Nolan’s pullup bar, grabbed hold, and flipped his legs up, hanging upside down by his knees.

  Nolan shook his head as he walked toward him. “Christ, you are a monkey. That’s not how you’re supposed to use that.” He got hold of Elliot and tugged him down.

  “Stop, you’re gonna drop me!”

  Nolan carried Elliot over to the couch and threw him down onto his back. “Never,” he said, and climbed on top of him, pressing his weight down and capturing his mouth.

  Elliot welcomed Nolan’s tongue, the hard press of his body like heaven. Nolan made him feel loved and protected, things he never thought he needed. He writhed beneath him, losing himself in the kissing.

  Nolan broke the kiss to mutter “You smell so good,” then buried his face in Elliot’s neck, kissing up behind his ear.

  “Used your body wash,” Elliot said, eyes closing with pleasure as Nolan tongued his neck. “I smell like you.”

  “Nah.” Nolan kissed his lips then smiled. “You’ve got your own scent. Pine needles and sunshine.”

  “Pine needles and sunshine, huh? If I’d known you’d be spouting poetry I’d have brought my beret.”

  Nolan laughed. “You’re an asshole.”

  Elliot wrapped his legs around Nolan. “I’m not. I like the poetry.”

  Nolan stroked Elliot’s cheek with his thumb. “You don’t like sweet sentiments, I get it. I don’t want to change you. So don’t stop being an asshole.”

  “That’s not true.” Elliot threaded his fingers through Nolan’s loose dark hair. “I figured out recently I don’t mind sweet sentiments when they come from you. Even kinda like them.”

  Nolan’s thumb grazed Elliot’s lip. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Most people love me.”

  Nolan laughed and rested his head on Elliot’s shoulder. “Cocky bastard.”

  Smiling, Elliot hugged Nolan around the neck.

  There was a hard pounding on the door upstairs, and they both stiffened. “Who the hell is that?” Elliot said.

  “Don’t know. Sound about to break the fucking door down.” Nolan climbed off of Elliot as the hard pounding came again. “Better go see.”

  Elliot sprang off the couch and followed Nolan up the stairs.

  When they reached the front door, Elliot saw Myles through the window, dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. “He’s here fucking early isn’t he?”

  Nolan opened the door, and when Myles looked up, Elliot immediately stiffened. He’d never seen Myles look so stricken, his fair skin even paler than usual, blue eyes haunted and serious. “Get your shoes on, both of you,” he said. “We have to go.”

  “What’s wrong?” Nolan said.

  “Please just hurry up. I can explain on the way.”

  “Come in for a second.”

  Nolan and Elliot immediately ran for their shoes. Nolan grabbed a warm coat and then dug another out of the closet and handed it to Elliot. Myles stood just inside the door, twirling his hand. “Come on, come on, we have to go.”

  “What’s going on, Myles?” Elliot asked as they moved toward the door.

  “It’s Baz.”

  Nolan and Elliot froze. “You found him?” Nolan asked.

  “No. Tim Patterson did.”

  “Patterson?” Elliot gaped. “But he doesn’t—”

  “He doesn’t know anything, I know,” Myles said. “And I don’t know how to deal with this disinformation stuff, Elliot. I called Ogden and he’s on his way but…” Myles rubbed a hand over his eyes. “We have to go. Now. JT and Christian will meet us there.”

  Myles turned and headed out the door. Elliot followed, and Nolan stepped out, locking the door behind them.

  “Myles!” Elliot shouted as he followed Myles to his car. “Is Baz okay?”

  Myles opened the car door. “Get in.”

  “Myles—”

  “No, he’s not!” Myles shouted, making Elliot jump. “Baz is not okay. We have to go. Now.”

  Nolan squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. “Come on.” He climbed into the passenger seat next to Myles, and Elliot got in the back.

  As they pulled out of the driveway, Elliot asked, “How bad is it?”

  Myles spun out onto the road and headed toward the mountains. He glanced at Elliot in the rearview mirror. “It’s bad,” he said. “Prepare yourselves.” He shook his head and let out a stuttered breath. “And maybe say a prayer.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Myles bypassed the road to the base trail and headed toward the other side of the mountain, Elliot leaned forward between the two front seats. “Where are we going?”

  Myles turned the wheel and they sped up Third Mountain Road so fast dust clouds rose and pebbles pinged violently against the underside of the vehicle. “Not much farther. Just up to the blue trail.”

  “Baz wasn’t found near the field?”

  “No. Just off one of the main hiking trails. I left Tim there by himself and told him to block it off and not call anyone. But safe to say I wasn’t comfortable doing so. Christian was too hungover to answer his phone this morning so I drove by there first and rattled his cage. Then you were on the way so it was easier to just stop by and pick you up.”

  “How should I handle Tim, Myles? You know him best.”

  “I’m not sure.” Myles shook his head. “But at this point, at least when I left him a half-hour ago, Tim wasn’t giving any indication he suspected Baz wasn’t human.”

  “But how can he…” Elliot stopped talking when th
e road narrowed to a trail, a stretch of yellow tape strung across two trees, blocking their way. Through the branches he saw JT pacing, head bowed, and Christian wiping his eyes.

  “Why is Christian crying?” Nolan scowled at Myles. “Sheriff! Is Baz dead?”

  “We’re not sure,” Myles said shutting off the engine. He looked at Nolan, then back at Elliot. “Ogden’s sending a medical team but they’re not here yet.”

  Elliot didn’t wait for the others, pushing open the car door and sprinting, ducking under the police tape. Christian caught him by his arm. “Elliot, wait.”

  Elliot spotted JT and Tim Patterson arguing up ahead, the forest ranger red-faced and screaming. “Give me my fucking phone, JT! You have no right—”

  “Tim!” Myles shouted, speed-walking past Elliot. “Take it easy.”

  Elliot looked into Christian’s red puffy eyes. “Where is he?”

  Nolan came up beside them. “Where is he?”

  Christian looked back and forth between them. “Come on. This way.”

  Christian led them off the trail into the brush. The trees parted to a small clearing in a blanket of colorful fallen leaves. Then he saw him. Elliot paused, and Nolan bumped into him, then stepped up beside him. No one spoke.

  Elliot’s mind had trouble reconciling what he was looking at. In a circle of cleared grass, a tall, lanky figure, half-in, half-out of the ground. From the knees down, he was submerged in the earth. The rest of the body was bent over, long white hair hanging toward the ground, arms splayed like he was performing a theatrical bow. A white garment, partially shredded, showed slashes of alabaster flesh edged with rust-colored stains.

  Gold and red leaves fell lazily from the trees above like gentle snow, the entire scene conjuring images of an angel statue in a graveyard. “Are you sure that’s Baz?” Nolan asked.

  “I’m sure,” Christian said. “I checked him out. Sat across from him talking enough times in the past to discern his features, however…banged up.”

  Myles, JT, and a somewhat calmer Tim Patterson came through the woods and stood alongside them. “Why are they all here, Myles?” Tim asked. His pale blond hair was covered in a green ball cap that matched his forest ranger uniform, fair skin flushed. “You asked me not to call anyone and I didn’t, then JT shows up and rips my phone right out of my pocket. We need to call someone, Myles. This is out of our—”

  “Tim.” Elliot approached him. “When did you find this…him?”

  Tim glared at Elliot, then sighed, his expression turning pained. He pointed at Baz. “An hour ago. I was checking the trails.” He moved slowly toward Baz, and Elliot and Nolan followed. “I’ve never seen anything like this but once, after a plane crashed in the mountains. Bodies half submerged in the ground. Distorted looking. But he’s warm.” He looked up at Nolan, then Elliot. “Death white but still warm. Usually if a body is dropped from a high altitude they’re frozen.”

  Elliot approached Baz, his heart in his throat. “Does he have a pulse?”

  “Not that I could find,” Christian said.

  Elliot moved into the circle, bent over and gently lifted Baz’s silky white hair away from his face. He gasped. Baz’s eyes were naturally larger than a human’s, but looked even bigger now, closed with purple swollen lids. The same rust-colored stains on his garment trailed in two crusty lines from his nostrils.

  “Is that blood?” Nolan asked softly.

  “I think so,” Christian said.

  Elliot felt around Baz’s neck. He wasn’t just warm, he was hot to the touch. This gave Elliot hope, but he couldn’t find a pulse.

  Nolan stepped around him and took one of Baz’s hands, checking his wrist. “No pulse.”

  “But his body temperature is hot,” Christian said.

  “We need to call someone,” Tim repeated.

  They all turned when they heard someone stomping through the brush. Brett Mallory approached, in cargo pants and a fleece, dreadlocks tied back in a bun, wire-framed glasses over his blue eyes.

  “Who called you?” JT demanded.

  “I did,” Myles said. “Ogden told me to.”

  Brett frowned, mouth agape as he stepped forward. He stared at Baz, saying nothing.

  “Yeah,” Nolan said. “You see Brett’s face? He’s gonna be real helpful.”

  Brett shot Nolan a hard look and straightened. “Brief me, Elliot,” he said as he rounded Baz’s body. “Now.”

  “Tim thinks he was dropped from a…airplane.”

  Brett looked at Tim. “You’re the forest ranger?”

  “Yeah, found him an hour ago. No pulse, extreme pallor, but he’s warm. What are you doing here? You’re that science teacher.”

  “I’m the science teacher, yeah,” Brett said, moving closer to examine Baz.

  “Myles?” Tim looked on the verge of losing his shit in a big way. “Why are all these people here?”

  “Hey, Tim,” Elliot said softly, approaching and placing a hand on his shoulder. “How ‘bout you and I go for a walk.”

  Tim shrugged Elliot’s hand off. “I’m not going anywhere with you. What are you even doing here, Nicholson?” Tim turned back to Brett. “Hey, don’t touch the body! Everyone stop touching it!”

  Ignoring Tim, Brett lifted Baz’s hair as Elliot had done a moment ago, checked for a pulse in his neck. He stepped back and walked a circle around him. “No, no, no. He wasn’t dropped from a plane. Or anything else.” He looked up and pointed at Tim. “Someone get him out of here.”

  “Excuse me?” Tim stepped forward. “And just who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “Sheriff Murphy,” Brett said calmly. “Take the ranger aside. I need to talk to the guys.”

  “Tim, come on. Just give me a minute,” Myles said, grasping his arm.

  Tim glared at Myles, looked back at Brett, but finally allowed Myles to lead him away.

  Brett checked Baz’s wrist, then dropped his arm, causing the body to sway for a moment like a dancing marionette before stilling again. He pointed to the ground. “Look at the leaves. They’ve been pushed out from the center.”

  “What are you saying?” JT asked.

  Nolan stepped forward and examined the perimeter around Baz. “He’s saying Baz didn’t come down from above. He came up from below.” He looked at Elliot. “This is one of those vents.”

  Brett nodded. “Bingo.”

  “Shit!” JT walked a circle around Baz. “Like the one Rudy found by the base entrance. Gust of air blew him off his feet, but when he checked after the ground was solid.”

  “I read all your reports,” Brett said. “The underground base vents air periodically up and out the surface.”

  “Baz said the vents move around,” Christian said. “Never stay in one place. Must be all over these mountains.”

  Elliot moved closer and examined Baz’s legs. The earth around them where his lower legs disappeared looked undisturbed, engulfing his limbs completely. “How the hell did he end up here?”

  “I hate to jump to the most pessimistic conclusion,” Nolan said. “But it stands to reason Baz was trying to get out of the base.”

  “But he travels via that misty shield thing,” Christian said. “What would he be doing crawling up through the vents? Especially since it was obviously…dangerous. Look at him. He’s all fucked up.”

  “I don’t like this,” JT said. “I don’t like this one bit.”

  “We’ve all been sensing something isn’t right with the Whites,” Elliot said. “No contact from Baz, baby White running around the forest unsupervised. Now this? We have to consider Baz was trying to escape the base. That his usual mode of coming and going was compromised.” He glanced up at the others. “And for whatever reason…he was desperate.”

  “We need to get him out of there,” Christian said. “We need to get him out of there right now. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

  “Agreed,” Brett said. “Just one moment.” Brett stepped inside the circle and knelt down, feeling al
ong the back of Baz’s thigh. “Anyone have a knife handy?”

  “What are you doing?” Elliot asked, a surge of protectiveness coming over him.

  “Just cutting a bit of this clothing away, I won’t hurt him.”

  JT tossed Brett a small pocket knife.

  “Thank you.”

  Elliot and Nolan rounded the body and knelt behind Brett, watching as he gently cut away the garment on the back of Baz’s thigh. He stuck his hand inside the tear and felt around, frowning. He remained there for a long time, hand inside the garment, shifting positions.

  Christian stepped forward. “Okay what are you doing?”

  “Just back off, Boucher,” Brett said. “Give me a minute.”

  JT slung an arm around Christian. “Stay calm.”

  “I have a pulse!” Brett announced.

  Elliot took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

  Brett stayed where he was, still. After a moment he nodded. “Yes. I have a pulse in his leg. Right…here.” He removed his hand and stood. “The hybrid’s alive.”

  “But for how long?” Elliot demanded. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

  Brett approached and squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. “Come on, tough guy. Let’s dig him out.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Where’s Ogden?” Elliot asked Tyler as he came up the trail.

  “In flight. He’ll meet us at the assigned location.”

  Elliot stepped back when two of Ogden’s soldiers, Rhonda and Shane, passed by with a stretcher. Behind them, a lanky guy in his fifties with poppy eyes and a horseshoe bald spot carried a large white medical suitcase. “That stretcher isn’t gonna be long enough,” Elliot said.

  “They’ll make do,” Tyler said. “Please, Elliot. Let them work. They’re all doctors.”

  Elliot watched, feeling helpless. They’d succeeded in getting Baz out of the ground, and now Ogden’s medical team had arrived. But Baz’s lower legs were in rough shape, the fabric of the jumpsuit he was wearing shredded, white skin beneath swollen with mottled bruises and more blood.

  Nolan’s arm slung around Elliot’s shoulders, soft breath in his ear. “He’ll be okay.”

 

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