Andi sighed. “We are.” He felt George stepping next to him, putting a hand on his lower back, soothing Andi instantly.
“Chief, I guess you’re going back with your husband and son? I’m sure you need some family time after this scare. I’ll keep you informed about everything that’s going on.”
Even though Gelman hadn’t delivered for them yet, Andi had to admit the man was good. Basically sending the chief away under the pretense of family matters, which she could hardly refute, thus giving George and Andi some breathing space. The angry look Norris was sending their way told Andi she realized what was going on. With a huff she turned to her husband and son, barking at the two beat officers to stay with Andi and George. The two women nodded uneasily in their direction but kept their distance. Gelman was still on the phone, telling the person at the other end to just come to the same coordinates Shireen had sent him and the chief. George took Andi’s arm.
“Let’s go sit over there,” he suggested in a low tone.
There was a small rock with a reasonably flat surface that was cold but better than standing while he felt the headache coming on.
“I’m sorry. I forgot the Tylenol in the car. As well as the water.”
The self-incriminating tone in George’s voice made Andi shake his head, though only once. Wincing, he put both his hands at his temples. What a rookie mistake he had just made!
“It’s fine. Not your fault I took off like some loon.”
“We were looking for a boy who had possibly been abducted. It was a good thing you took off like a loon.”
“About that, how did you find Tyler?” Gelman had followed them, staring at Andi with a mixture of interest and suspicion. Andi was too tired to deal with the man, so he simply closed his eyes, hoping he would vanish in thin air. He hadn’t that much luck, but George came to his rescue as always.
He relayed the story as they had spun it with Tyler down in the bunker, making it short.
Gelman furrowed his brows. It seemed as if he wanted to say something and thought better of it. Their story was plausible enough, at least the way George told it. His partner had gotten very good at it, infusing his voice with just enough no-nonsense to nip objections in the bud, like how they had known to go slightly left toward the bunker instead of choosing a straight line as a wet and probably frightened boy would have most possibly done, and how they had known to go so deep into the copse. Thoughts for another day, or hopefully never. With the pounding in his head increasing, Andi kept his eyes closed, leaving Gelman to George. The hum of their conversation provided the background for all the images washing up against his walls, which had strengthened due to a lot of meditation. Still, completely shutting them out was impossible—
Hungry, hungry, warm, so many, scritching and scratching in the room underground, showing him pictures of a shape, tall, dark, without the usual markers Andi used to distinguish humans; all he could tell was that it was a male, cocooned in oregano, sage, and basil, mixed with smoke; he knew that scent, yes, he did, a beekeeper, they often burned herbs in their bee smoker to get a more pleasant scent; it was everywhere in the bunker, clung to the fabric of the sofa, on the wood of the chairs, saturated the earth, not in a way blobs would realize; their senses were so lacking, so weak, how could one live being blind and deaf and deprived of all sensual input; no, blobs did get input, it was just muted so their brains wouldn’t overheat, their minds wouldn’t shut down from the onslaught of information; they weren’t built for that, poor things; the smoke, it was important, it hung most prominently in the hidden room, even though at the moment it was mixed with sweet decay, mouthwatering, the promise of procreation and sustenance. Andi didn’t understand why the blobs thought it despicable, so alluring, with undertones of rotten eggs, hydrogen sulfide, Andi had learned, and then there were dimethyl disulfides and trisulfides, reminding one of old garlic, the blobs anyway; for Andi, for them it only meant food, something to desire; he couldn’t dwell on that, couldn’t get lost, he needed to get information on the smoke-human, the beekeeper, he was the one, provider of food, bringing it in regularly, making the maggots fat and healthy; he was so good, no, no, he was a killer, it was bad, so many of them, biomass, feeding others, the cycle of life. Andi wanted to puke, his head hurt so much, what was a head, there were—
“Andi?”
4. Digging deep
GEORGE KEPThis hand on Andi’s shoulder, knowing this would help his partner to stay at least partially with them. He was still shocked by what had happened in the bunker, the way the arthropods had swarmed Andi as if they were welcoming him. It was beyond creepy, and yet he found it more natural than the thought of being in the same room with ghosts. Given the choice, George preferred bugs over the spirits of the deceased. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have laughed at how much his life had changed in the past few months. Thinking back at the times when deciding the next step for his career had filled entire weeks for him, he pitied and envied himself. Things had been a lot easier back then, firmly grounded in what humans thought of as the real world. Life had been smaller as well. Constricted. Less vibrant. As if he had worn a black veil that muted all colors and blocked out two-thirds of everything. The veil was gone, so to speak, at least partly. He would never be able to and never wanted to be as open as Andi, and even though he had a lot more to worry about now, he realized he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Andi gave him a weak smile, silently thanking him for his support and assuring him he would be able to keep it together until Evangeline arrived.
“Is something wrong?” Again Gelman, intruding on them, testing George’s patience.
“No, everything’s fine.” George kept his hand on Andi’s shoulder but turned his body, shielding his partner from Gelman’s view. “But we really needed that vacation to regenerate after all the stress in recent times. Being thrown back in without warning is a bit much.”
George knew he was being passive-aggressive. He didn’t care. As much as he had hated it when his mother had treated him and his brothers like this as teenagers, he had learned to appreciate the advantages of that tactic. Venting one’s anger without going for the big confrontation that would cost too much energy—perfect as a temporary solution. Gelman furrowed his brows, indicating he realized what was going on. The man did have a degree in psychology, as George and Andi had found out when he joined the precinct for his mediation.
“I understand. And as I said, I’m sorry for having disrupted your vacation.” Gelman waved in the direction the chief had left with her family. “I’m not sorry you found Tyler so fast. It was the right call to get you involved.”
There were a few answers George had to that, none of which he could give. He settled for a polite smile instead, the one Andi said reminded him of the clown inIt. “I’m glad Tyler is back with his parents.” A socially acceptable response.
“We all are.” Gelman hesitated. “What do you think is down there?”
“As I said, something dead for sure.”
“You don’t think it’s an animal.” It was a statement, not a question.
George shrugged. “At this point, it’s all speculation. But something dead in an underground bunker that is so well hidden from view? It doesn’t bode well.” There, he had been vague enough, not given away what he already knew. Twenty-six victims. George shuddered inwardly. This case would be a nightmare; he could feel it in his bones. The press would fall on this like vultures on a fresh carcass, no doubt swarming in from all over the country once the news got out. Luckily, he and Andi were on vacation. They would wait till Evangeline came, show her everything, let her do her work, and then return home. This case was somebody else’s problem.
George felt a faint stab of guilt for thinking along those lines. There had been a time, less than a year ago, when he would have done everything in his power to get a high-profile case like this. He would have jumped at the chance of getting justice for so many victims and furthering his career at the same time. Now he had more important things to worry about, mainly Andi’s mental health. Without being conceited, he knew they were the most likely detectives to solve the case, and not taking it did leave a bitter taste in his mouth. But he and Andi desperately needed the vacation. The meditation techniques they were using worked, which was good. The downside was, meditation of any kind needed practice, something George hadn’t been aware of. Naively, he had thought just sitting down and closing his eyes would do the trick. By now he knew why there were courses to learn proper meditation. It was damn hard to do, trying for the mind, and exhausting. If one wanted to get in sync with somebody else? It was like climbing Mount Everest without oxygen tanks.
After the McHill/Portius/Miller case, Andi had stabilized, much to George’s relief, though he was very aware that it was only a reprieve. It was vital for them to establish routines that would help George to anchor Andi when things got out of hand again—like in the bunker. And for that, they needed time.
“You’re right. It doesn’t look good.” Gelman seemed unaware of the turmoil going on in George’s thoughts. “I think I hear something.”
George strained his ears and turned his head at the same time to where he was hiding Andi with his body. His partner was looking into the copse, where George could hear it now: the unmistakable sounds of ATVs hauling equipment. It was impossible to cross Bloody Dick Swamp with cars, the ground being too treacherous, especially after the rain. Patches of solid ground alternated with pure swamp, ready to suck on the wheels of normal vehicles and never let go. A few moments later, the first ATV appeared between the angel oaks, driven by Evangeline herself. The tires were about three times bigger than those on normal ATVs, enabling the vehicle to navigate on practically every ground, be it swamp, snow, ice, or mud. Four more followed the first one, dragging trailers with equipment. The two beat officers rushed to help with unloading, seemingly relieved to finally have something to do that didn’t involve trying not to stare openly at Andi and George with a mixture of awe and fear, as if they were about to bite off their heads. Evangeline hopped down from her ATV with a grim expression.
