So he went.
ANDI WASdown in the bunker or hole, yes, it was more a hole than a bunker, nothing sophisticated, just for emergencies, Tyler on the mattress, a thin thing crawling with mites, the boy was wrong, his body oozing pheromones, busy rejecting the drug the killer had given him, that was good, it gave them time, but for what, there was no other way in, Tyler was trapped, he couldn’t leave through the ground, there were so many little tunnels, it would be easy to slip away, crawling and skittering, quickly, quickly, to safety, away from the nasty blob with the knife, reeking of despair and crazy, he couldn’t take Tyler with him, needed to help him, what could he do, he was out on the moss, his body cooling rapidly, future nourishment for the forest. Tyler was down there, George, George walking around, searching, the chief, Gelman, the trees, earth in the hole, fungi, rotting leaves, a warm breeze, promising better times, soil crumbling under heavy steps, the bees, in a tight bundle, walking across the honeycombs, feeding the queen, so many bees. If only they knew how much they were needed out there, how desperate he was for help; he was safe inside their midst, nothing could touch him here in the hive. No, he couldn’t stay, Tyler was too young, who was Tyler, why was he important? The bees were getting nervous, waking, preparing to fly out; they felt the call, his call. How was that possible, why did it matter, as long as they came. He needed them desperately, but they were not enough, too far away. He had to be quick, chitin rubbing, breaking, no longer alone, he was never alone, never, they were always there, the ground breaking open, worms coming up, pill bugs and centipedes, swarming the hole where Tyler was. He still knew about Tyler, something from the other world, the one where he was a single unit with two arms and legs, not this skittering, scrambling, floating mass of thousands of bodies, limbs, minds. He had a mind, he was Andi, not a bee queen, not a hive, not hundreds of centipedes; there were more and more of them, ants, some bugs, the bees were flying now, coming to the clearing, they were all coming because Andi needed them. He wasn’t just a guest anymore, he was more and less, pleading, asking, demanding, and they heeded his call, whatever it was he was calling, overwhelming, like a tidal wave, filling the hole. The huge blob was screaming in panic, spiders were dropping into his hair, several fat dung beetles who had mated in the soil above the hole were slithering down his neck, making him scream again, then run for the tunnel, leaving Tyler alone, the knife on the ground. The first bees had found their way in, through the cracks in the trapdoor, coming for the blob, stinging him in the face, his hands, scrambling under his shirt, stinging, stinging; he was squealing now, the pheromones all over the place, a sweet perfume, cloying the air, his body reacting to the poison, swelling. More bees were coming; the blob tried to reach the trapdoor, managed to get a foot on the first step, sting, sting, another scream, garbled, his throat swelling shut, the blob swaying, clawing at the walls of the tunnel, finding no traction, falling down, a heavy thud killing hundreds of centipedes and pill bugs and spiders and bugs, but he was down, wheezing, trying to get air into his lungs, the bees all over him now, attacking his neck and nostrils, his eyes, entering his mouth when he tried to shout again, stinging there as well, because Andi knew how to kill a man, knew why he was panting, could interpret what the change in his oxygen levels meant, and dead was dead. This blob had killed so many, it was only just; what did that even mean? He was getting rid of an intruder, an enemy, a threat; threats had to be dealt with, the hive had to be protected, the nest. The blob was dead, thethump, thump, thumpsilenced, the change in him evident for the arthropods even though they didn’t know yet what it meant, not before certain chemical reactions emanated the smell the scavengers would react to, but Andi knew. Crying, somebody was crying, Tyler, in the room, on the mattress, pressing himself against the wall. Andi couldn’t soothe him, he wouldn’t understand; something was with him, no, somebody, a disturbance in the electric field, too weak to be noticed by anybody but the moths and pill bugs, they were sensitive to it, them, ghosts, crawlers of another kind, not his crawlers, though, no connection, just their presence, of no use, not food nor help nor information. Yelling, not in the hole, above ground, two blobs arguing, the bees obscuring the trapdoor, a cold body lying a few feet away, another blob bent over it. George, that blob was George; he was holding Andi’s hand and talking to him, begging him to come back, that it was over, it was over. How did George know? The other blobs, he knew them as well, the chief and Gelman, no way they didn’t know now; he’d always known it would happen. The agitation was subsiding, the earth-dwelling arthropods retreating through the tunnels and nooks and crannies they had come through, the bees making their way back to the hives. The queen was safe, Andi was safe, he was grateful, and they didn’t understand, had no concept for blob ideas. The waves, he heard the waves, gently rolling, his breathing matching them automatically, a thin shaft of warmth piercing his skin where George was holding him, guiding him back, he needed to come back, it was all done.
Andi was tired.
WHEN ANDIfinally opened his eyes, George almost didn’t hear the arrival of Forard and his team. He looked down at his partner, whose skin was slowly gaining some color back. His hands weren’t as clammy as before, and the cold sweat on his forehead was drying. Forard appeared next to them, not commenting on Andi on the ground or the hum of the bees in the air or anything else.
“What’s the situation, Hayes?”
George wanted to protest that Andi was too exhausted to do anything right now, even if it was just talking, but Andi made a face, lifted his head, grabbed George’s hand harder, and started to speak.
“Perp is dead, anaphylactic shock after being stung by bees. Tyler is still in the room where he left him. Give it a few more minutes, then you can go in. Nobody else in there, knife on the ground halfway to the room with Tyler. Wait till the bees are all gone.”
Then he sunk back on the ground with a soft groan. “My head is killing me.”
Automatically George found the small packet of Tylenol in his pocket, his emergency kit for situations like this. He unscrewed the lid and Andi swallowed it all, the amount exactly what a grown person was allowed to take in one go.
Forard nodded at them before he turned to his men, barking his orders.
“Surround the trapdoor. Wait for the bees to leave. Then we go in.”
Shuffling and the cracking of twigs indicated several men and women getting in position. George didn’t really care what was happening. Andi had said Tyler was safe, which meant he could start worrying about Andi’s well-being. His partner was still too cold to the touch, even though he seemed to be getting some circulation back. What he needed now was a warm, soft bed to lie in, hot soup waiting for him when he woke up, and a huge bucket to throw up into. How he was supposed to get Andi out of the forest and back to civilization he didn’t know. They had come here by foot, the trees for the final distance too dense for a vehicle.
“Is he all right?” Gelman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and would have startled George if anything could have still startled him on this day.
“He’s going to have a migraine, and he’s too cold. I need to get him out of here.”
“I think the SWAT team drove up to the place where we parked the ATVs before they had to abandon their trucks. It should be doable. And I have keys for one of them. Shall we go?”
George stared at Gelman, full of suspicion. “What’s your angle?” He knew he sounded aggressive, but he also felt entitled to it after everything that had gone down the last few weeks. In the background, they heard the SWAT team opening the trapdoor and Chief Norris’s voice, calling for Tyler. The answer was faint, though clear. “I’m here, Mom. I’m fine.”
“My angle is to get Detective Hayes out of here. Once we have him at his home, we can talk about the rest. And don’t look at me like that. I’m no threat to you. I swear.”
George was conflicted. He looked down at Andi, who had his eyes closed and was still holding his hand. His partner groaned. “I don’t care what happens next. I need a bed.”
That cinched it. George tugged Andi to a sitting position, got up himself, and then, with the help of Gelman, hoisted Andi to his feet. They kept him between them when they started the careful journey over roots and stones, brambles and branches.
Reaching the SWAT trucks seemed to take an eternity, during which Andi had to throw up twice. The second time, not much was coming up anymore, Andi’s body wracked by violent convulsions. George held his partner, ignoring the worried looks Gelman was directing at him. This was normal as far as he was concerned, and he needed some time to adjust to the new situation. He knew Gelman was coming with them to talk about what had happened in the clearing. Only a fool would assume otherwise. The question was, how should George handle it? There was no denying what Andi was capable of, not after he had led them to Tyler without even once straying from his path. The thing with the bees was new. Until now Andi had never let on that he was able to control his tiny informants. George was sure his partner would have mentioned it, so it had to have been a surprise for him as well. Though when he thought about it, it made sense. Why should a connection as intense as thegeschenkonly work in one direction?
They stepped through another row of oaks onto the dirt road where the SWAT trucks were parked behind the ATVs they had used. It took Gelman a moment to find the one he had the keys for before they were on their way back to Charleston.
“I assume we drive to Detective Hayes’s home?” Gelman found George’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Your assumption is correct.” George had Andi’s head in his lap, stroking the sweaty, dirty-blond hair. Andi was on the verge of falling asleep, wincing occasionally when the truck found a bump in the road. He would need some more Tylenol until he could get his well-earned rest.
As soon as Gelman pulled up in front of Andi’s house, George was out the back door, leaning back in to get Andi. Gelman came around to help him, and George gave him the keys to the house. He picked Andi up in a fireman’s carry—even though his partner was slim, he wasn’t exactly a feather—and followed Gelman into the house. In Andi’s bedroom, he carefully laid him on the bed, took off his damp clothes, managed to get him into the new pajamas he had bought for him only three weeks ago, and coaxed Andi into swallowing another dose of Tylenol with some water. Then he tucked Andi in, shut the blinds, placed the bucket next to his bed, while marveling the entire time how normal these things had become for him in less than a year. Once he was sure Andi had fallen asleep, he left his room, leaving the door cracked open so he would hear him should he need anything. Gelman was standing in the hall, with a soft expression in his eyes.
“You’re taking good care of him.”
“Nobody ever has.”
Gelman raised his hands, the gesture a bit helpless. “Let’s talk.”
“Yeah, let’s talk.” George brushed past Gelman down the stairs into the kitchen. He knew he wouldn’t like what was going to be said and felt entitled to a coffee while battling it out with a representative of IA. At least it was a good exercise, preparing him for the inevitable confrontation with the chief. George started making the coffee, listening with one ear as Gelman sat down at the kitchen isle. Only yesterday it had been Andi sitting there, watching as George made dinner for them both. The atmosphere had been so tranquil then, so perfectly domestic, nothing like the crackling tension he was experiencing now. George was willing to postpone their discussion until the coffee was done, but it seemed Gelman had different ideas.
“Detective Donovan, George, first of all, I want to assure you that you have nothing to fear from me or IA. If anything, I’m your ally. I know it’s hard to believe at the moment, but please let me explain.”
“It seems to me I can’t stop you no matter what.” George knew he was being rude. He didn’t care. He was standing in his partner’s, his lover’s kitchen, said lover in bed out cold, which put all the responsibility of keeping Andi safe firmly on George’s shoulders. How he hated that Andi couldn’t be here to be part of this talk. But that wasn’t possible, not after all he had gone through during this case, and time was of the essence. George couldn’t afford to wait until Andi got better. It would give Gelman and the chief too great an opportunity to corner them. So he looked at Gelman expectantly. At least the man had the decency to squirm a bit.
