[Darkthorn 01.0] Pond Scum

by Michael Lilly

“They just issued a BOLO; every cop in the state will have his mug burned into their eyes within the hour. Not that one easily forgets that mug. He’s probably not driving his car, though. Not if he’s smart. And he is. Any ideas?”

  “Well, it has been confusing me that they never so much as touched Todd’s place. I’m sure they saw him with us. I’m sure at least one of Keroth’s guys would have recognized him, and with his name, it would only be so long before they had his address. So why not try to peg us there?”

  “What’re you getting at?” Beth asks, brow furrowed.

  “I think he’s using Todd as his trump card. He didn’t want to show up at Todd’s house then because we could easily have shot that down as an option at that point, and gone to stay somewhere else. But now, in regards to Todd and his house, we’ve been offered false security, and we took it.”

  “So, Todd’s house?” she asks.

  “And the hospital. He could be in deep shit if they get there before we do.”

  “Hospital it is,” says Beth, standing.

  And with that, we’re off.

  I’m grateful for how small our town is, because a drive longer than a few minutes to the hospital would have ripped my mind apart.

  When we arrive at the hospital, Nurse Gale is in the lobby. When she sees us, she puts her hands on her hips and scowls at us. “I thought I told you, not until morning.”

  “We’re not here to visit,” Beth says. “Just to protect. I can flash my badge if it helps.”

  “Go on, then. But don’t you be going and waking him up. That boy needs his rest.”

  We both nod and continue to the critical care unit and to Todd’s room. His door is closed. Beth and I pull chairs up to the doorway to be on the lookout. But we’re tired. Before long, Beth’s eyes begin to glaze over.

  “I’ll take first shift,” I say.

  Beth nods and sits back in her chair, resting her head against the wall and folding her arms in front of her. “Thanks,” she says. And then she’s out.

  Over the next several hours, I become intimately acquainted with the appearance of the corridor outside of Todd’s room. I would have woken Beth up halfway through so that I could take a turn sleeping, but I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep anyway, so there’s no point in disturbing her sleep. She’ll pretend to be mad about it later, but that doesn’t bother me.

  At around four o’clock, Todd moves in his bed, and I resist the urge to sit inside his room, instead of the hallway. Surely, Nurse Gale would have my head. And, indeed, she comes shuffling through only a minute later, entering his room and closing the door behind her without acknowledging either of us.

  She emerges shortly, and turns to me. “You really should be getting some sleep, Detective. You look like shit.”

  “No, that’s this new detox regimen I’m trying called minding my own business.” I mean for it to sound more playful than snotty, but I think I came across as rude. Still, she smiles and winks before returning to the nurses’ station.

  An hour later, Gale is replaced by Nurse Andy, an older gentleman with the bedside manner of a potted plant. He says nothing when he sees us. I suspect that he would continue to say nothing were I to invite myself into the room, but it’s not worth the fuss at this point.

  Beth starts to wake up around seven o’clock, when dawn’s first sunlight punches through the windows and across her face. She orients herself to the time and our location, and says, “Why the fuck didn’t you wake me up? You been up all night?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think I could’ve slept, so I didn’t bother waking you up.”

  “You could’ve at least tried. Do you not have to use the bathroom?”

  “Well, now that you mention it.”

  When I return from the men’s room, Beth says, “Hey. I’ll stay here with him. You go home and get some actual sleep. Leave Odin in the front room to bite off the fingers of anyone who tries to get in. Yeah?”

  I nod. I hate to leave, but she’s right; twenty-four hours with no sleep under the stress that I’ve put my body and mind through can’t be good for me, particularly when coupled with the trash I bought us for dinner last night.

  While the journey is short, the flood of thoughts that breaches my mind as I trek back to my apartment is deep and tumultuous. Normally a mind stretched so thin hits only the most basic and essential pieces of information regarding each situation, a spider web only thick enough for a single fly per segment of its spinning. But this is not a normal web spun routinely by a hungry orb weaver. The intricate designs of this web are three-dimensional rather than two, cast seemingly wildly and without pattern like a black widow’s.

  The two situations battling hardest for my attention are those of Keroth and of May. Not to suggest that the two situations are separate, but my feelings toward the former are dark and hostile, while all there is in my heart for the latter is compassion and empathy. Sympathy, even. Poor girl.

  On the bright side, Keroth has to be on the run now. That or he simply gets caught and sent to jail. But I must treat that circumstance as a double-edged sword; he’s backed into a corner which, in any normal person, triggers our most primal instincts, flinging us to the sharp edges of cliffs that a sound mind dares not approach.

  For this reason, I’m ever more apprehensive about my return home. I try not to be gripped by the mighty fingers of fear, but that doesn’t stop my mind from constructing various scenarios in which I get shot, stabbed, or otherwise harmed by some intruder of my abode. But indeed, my apartment is as empty as it was before.

  I’m almost willing to believe that it’s just plain over. But I know there’s more. The sharp blade of the guillotine glints, and the rope is taut. The executioner needs only the proper signal and the mighty blade will come down upon Keroth’s neck. The beast shall be slain.

  Odin, evidently having forgiven me for abandoning him for two days, leaps into my arms upon my entry. The furry ball of warmth sends life through me temporarily, vitalizing my extremities for long enough to take care of the simplicities: double-checking the locks, brushing my teeth, changing into clean, comfortable clothes, and a modicum of control over the otherwise clumsy fall into my bed.

  I know Keroth is still out. I know his guys are still out. But these worries were meant for the vertical version of me, and the horizontal version is overdue for unconsciousness.

  Twenty-Seven

  My mind once again transcends the barrier between silence and reality, bringing with it the dark, blurry image of my bedroom at twilight. The rhythmic pulse of the notification light on my phone sharpens the more I wake up.

  I reach for my phone and unlock it to find two messages.

  One from Beth, sent only minutes after I must have fallen asleep: “Hey, I’ll have a couple of trusted uniforms watch your place for the day in a squad car. Sleep tight.”

  And a voicemail from a local, yet unknown, number: “Mr. Thorn, my name is Peter Sharp. I tried calling several times, but with no answer, obviously. I’m calling about your father. His funeral arrangements, for one, in addition to his will. Please call me at your earliest convenience so that we can get these matters taken care of.” He rattles off his number at the end, matching that which displays on my phone next to the missed call icon.

  I hesitate for a moment before I call back. What do I even say? They can toss him into a ditch for all I care. And why does he have a will? He wasn’t that old, and surely thoughts of other people and of his own mortality collided seldom enough that a will was not on the agenda for a long time yet?

  But alas, here we are. I tap the number on my screen to call it back.

  “Sharp,” Sharp says sharply.

  “Hi, this is Jeremy Thorn. I’m calling about my father’s burial and will.”

  “Ah, yes! Are you available to meet tomorrow afternoon? Say, two o’clock?”

  “Uh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

  “Perfect! My office is in the municipal building across the street from the station. Ask for m
e and Karen will take care of you.”

  “I’ll plan on that. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His tone of voice in the voicemail and the first part of our conversation planted an image in my mind of a rather unpleasant man, balding, staring down at the world through expensive glasses. However, as soon as I identify myself to him over the phone, that image puts on thirty pounds, and I’m reminded briefly of one of those cartoons whose toupee would jump a foot from his head when surprised.

  I suppose I should be glad, at least, that it’s all being taken care of in one go, rather than having to have another meeting with the morgue; the fewer eyes I have scrutinizing my charade the better.

  I sit up in my bed, laying down the tracks for my day’s train to follow as my bedroom’s details trickle into being. However, creating a schedule for a day becomes difficult when that day begins at six in the evening., rather than twelve hours prior (or later), as it normally does. I elect to busy myself by relieving Beth of her watch at the hospital after a quick shower.

  I enter through the hospital’s automatic front doors at seven o’clock, having showered, shaved, brushed my teeth, and stopped to pick up coffee and food for Beth and me. She looks like shit.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Eh. Better than smelling like it, I guess. Please tell me there’s a breakfast burger dripping with grease in that bag.”

  “With your name on it. And an extra, if you’d like. Coffee or juice first?”

  “Mother of fuck, coffee, please. The shit they have here is on par with third-world sewage.”

  It takes her about half of her sandwich and a few sips of coffee to resemble a human being again. By the time she’s finished with the first sandwich and tearing the wrapper off of the second, she looks much better, and the elusive warmth returns to her.

  “You all right if I take off?” she asks after devouring the second sandwich, her coffee, and the orange juice.

  “Mind if I take a minute to talk with the nurse? I’d prefer to be in there with him and I’d like to get permission from her so I don’t get castrated for trying.”

  “Go for it,” she says. She stands up, brushes crumbs and bits of potato off of her front, and tosses the food wrapper into a nearby receptacle.

  It takes some talking, but I’m finally able to convince Nurse Gale to allow me to surveil Todd from inside his room. For security reasons.

  The atmosphere of the bedroom is far less busy than that of the hallway. In contrast with the corridor’s blinding overhead lights and constant noise from the nurses’ station, Todd’s room is dark, cool, and quiet, offering the solace to the senses that I so often crave. The various monitors and displays cast a dim glow over the half of the room that they face, but not so much to be an imposition on my visual intake.

  From this light, I’m barely able to make out the steady rise and fall of Todd’s chest. As I sit in the guest seat near the windows, he speaks.

  “That you, Jer?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.”

  “How are things? What’s going on?” His voice is as steady as ever, as though he hasn’t gotten the memo that he was maimed recently.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “May is with her mom. She spoke with the prosecutor. We got a very useful, very incriminating testimony from her.”

  “And Keroth? Do they have him?”

  “They’re working on that. Beth and I have been sticking around here to make sure that you’re not attacked or anything before we can nab him.”

  “Why not just have a uniform do it?”

  “We’re not sure which ones we can trust right now. Beth had a couple watching my place for the day, but we wanted to watch you ourselves.”

  “Is she here? Beth?”

  “No. She had been here all day, though. I went home and slept, and now I’ll probably be here for the night. She just left.”

  Todd looks sheepish, almost embarrassed. “You guys don’t have to do that.”

  “Like fuck we didn’t. If Keroth or any of his rats thinks they’re going to get a jump on any of us, they have another thing coming.”

  It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but I almost think I see Todd blushing. And in that moment, my mind whips around to … us. Is there an ‘us’? And if so, what is it? What are we? And if we are a ‘we,’ will the integrity of that joint pronoun persist through whatever remains of this case?

  After a few moments of silence, I look up to discover him looking back at me. He’s smiling in such a way that crinkles his eyes in a very Todd-ish manner, which makes me glad that there’s no instrument displaying my pulse on a monitor.

  I smile back, wondering wildly what he reads on my face as I do so.

  “You should rest,” I say.

  “I’ve been resting all day,”

  “These things take time to heal properly, and I want you in one piece.”

  “You want me?” he teases.

  “In one piece,” I say, awkwardly aware that I’m allowing the humor of his question to diffuse into the air, unappreciated and replaced by a note of seriousness.

  And in a moment of impulse, of which I never believed myself capable, I stand, step to the side of his bed, and place my hand on his cheek.

  The beeping noise indicates his heart rate speeds up considerably. We lock eyes for what seems like hours as I await a reaction, then he lifts his uninjured arm and cradles my hand against his cheek. He then closes his eyes and exhales deeply while his heart rate returns to normal.

  “You know,” he says, “while you were showering at my place, Beth reamed me for not making a move sooner.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. Me, too.” We both laugh and I pull the chair from the wall to the side of his bed. I take his hand and rest my head on the side of the bed, and Todd falls asleep. I know that I’ll be unable to sleep, which is perfect; all the better to keep him safe. Besides, being unconscious would effectively shorten the amount of time I get to spend here just … being. I’d rather be awake to experience this than asleep (which is a rare sentiment, admittedly). His hand is strong, calloused from work, but relaxed in mine as he sleeps the evening away into night.

  Nurse Gale walks in, half carried by a rush of wind, it seems. She takes a quick glance at us and whispers, “Aww, isn’t that cute? Is he safe, then?” She winks at me, checks various displays and instruments, scribbles her interpretation on a clipboard, and walks out, giving us one last smile before she disappears to the nurses’ station.

  Todd sleeps soundly through the night, save for a small fit around four o’clock, consisting of a few unintelligible groans and shifting positions several times. After a few hours, the sun rises, lending its light to the room, spilling clumsily over the machines and tools in the room. Despite the anchor with which Todd’s presence has grown to provide my mind, the sunrise brings with it a new wave of what-ifs, honing in specifically on what few moves Keroth has left.

  He could hide under an alias, move to a different state or even country, and forever forget that he was ever even known as Jeremy Keroth. His family would despair for some time, but most of the pain would be from the discovery of the disturbing contrast between who he is and the image that he had on display prior to being discovered, rather than from his absence. They may miss the person they thought he was, but they will not ache in the absence of the unmasked monster.

  Before long, Beth arrives, flanked by two uniformed officers. One of them I recognize from various murder scenes over the years, but with whom I haven’t actually spoken. He’s older and has a gruff, slightly troubled look that this line of work etches into one’s face over time. The other is unfamiliar to me, a plump young thing with a round face and short, black hair.

  “These guys are going to look after Love for now. You and I need to get busy.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her, but so slightly that I knew only she would notice. She gestures for me to leave and I rise to my feet, nod at each of the officers, and follow her out.

  “Don’t worry,�
� she says as soon as we’re out of earshot, “I vetted them both thoroughly. They’re good people.”

  “Seeley, the old one, he’s been on the force forever. Cliché of a cop: divorced, bit of a drinker. But one hell of a guy to have by your side. I almost want to take him out for a drink. The other one, Thomas, he’s brand new. I guess he’s from that little neighborhood that they’re trying to modernize in that preppy chunk of town. Hasn’t even been in the circles long enough to get involved with Keroth’s shit.”

  “And we’re trusting him to protect Todd?”

  “He’ll do whatever Seeley says. That should be enough. Plus, Seeley’s a hell of a shot and lightning fast on the draw. If it comes to it, I’d be surprised if an attacker got a shot off, much less connected it to its target.”

  While not entirely satisfied, I do agree that we have other business to attend to, and hope that all will be well upon our return.

  “This is good,” I say. “I have a meeting at two o’clock to deal with my dad’s … stuff.”

  “What stuff?”

  “His funeral arrangements and his will.”

  “Fuck. Right. You should go home and get a nap first. After your meeting, come to the station.”

  “Will do.”

  “Do you want protective detail again today?”

  “Nah. I don’t think anyone from around here would try anything in my neighborhood during daylight hours.”

  “Probably not. Plus, you have a German shepherd ready to rip their arms off if they try.”

  “That, too.”

  As I cross the threshold from the sterile cleanliness of the hospital to the wild, untamed outdoors, a thought strikes me, and refuses to be shrugged off.

  Now its puppet, I start walking, but home is no longer my destination. Instead, I’m tracing the fastest route to Ripple Drive, over time, clinging more and more tightly to my compulsions. The person who surfaces in my mind, now, is not Beth, May, Mrs. Brotcher, or Keroth. It’s not even Todd. This person has been dormant in my unconscious for so long that her presence in my conscious thoughts surprises me, but now that she does, I can’t resist the urge to speak with her.