Hell's Hilltop

by J. A. Dennam

  Jesus criminently. The adrenaline rush soon ebbed, allowing his feet to move once again. Ty took a mental note to add a can of wasp spray to the list of supplies, in the likelihood other critters lived here. Bed rolls, lanterns, medical supplies, untraceable cell phones… oh, and food. But that would have to wait until last minute, of course, because he was sure even the basement classrooms below were overrun with….

  His thoughts trailed off halfway through the sanctuary. A woman, draped in a white choir robe, lay on the stone altar directly ahead. Hair, black as a raven’s wings, fanned beside her shoulders, her ghostly-pale complexion devoid of life. Frozen to the spot, Ty opened his mouth to call out to her, but halted when her lashes fluttered open. Her head turned and he found himself under a spell of deep, sapphire blue. As if on strings, Rena effortlessly rose to a sitting position, swung her feet around and faced him.

  “Do you love me, Ty?” she asked in a straightforward manner.

  The question, so bold and premature, quickened his blood. “No.”

  Without expression, Rena lowered her feet to the floor and stood before him a rare, ethereal beauty surrounded by earthly decay. Her hands came up, reached behind her neck. When they lowered again, the robe slid down her arms, pooled at her feet. Completely nude, the dramatic curves of her full, heavy breasts swelled above a thin, flat middle. Rounded hips, enhanced by a pose designed to seduce, perfected a long-legged, hourglass shape that nearly brought him to his knees.

  “Do you want this body?” asked in the same expressionless manner.

  He swallowed hard, fighting off the inferno in his groin. “No.”

  In the blink of an eye, she was standing so close, he felt her heat through the layer of his clothing. Unable to back away, his resistance crumbled the moment she leaned in. Of its own accord, his hand came up and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over a firm dark nipple. Her sweet breath bathed his lips, but instead of kissing him, she whispered one word.

  “Liar.”

  Just then, the earth beneath his feet began to shake. Torn from her hypnotic spell, Ty looked down, realized what he’d done. The entire floor from wall to wall was sagging in a state of near collapse… and he’d walked right over it without thought. His first instinct was to grab Rena, pull her to safety. But when he reached for her, it was to find she was back on the altar, watching as he struggled for balance.

  Too late, the floor opened up. His stomach lurched with weightlessness… and suddenly he was falling.

  Ty jerked awake to discover the mattress beneath his stomach jiggling with movement. Light assaulted his eyes and he squeezed them shut again. The angle of it through the alcove of windows at the head of his bed suggested it was afternoon. Which meant the curtains were fully open. When did he do that?

  The sounds of home and the smell of his own sheets were so blessedly comforting, Ty wanted to burrow in and never leave. Even the bed’s movement was familiar, since Chewie usually joined him if he felt neglected in some way.

  Still not ready to subject his pupils to the sun, Ty groaned, turned his head so that he faced his furry companion. He moistened his mouth. “Need to go outside, buddy?”

  The bed moved again. “No, but I wouldn’t turn down a belly rub.”

  His eyes popped open. Ty found a shape beside him that matched the unforgettable voice of his so-called friend. He squeezed them shut, opened them again which gained him a little clarity. Derek’s cock-eyed grin greeted him from the other pillow.

  Ty lifted up… and was immediately reminded why he shouldn’t. Pain blanketed his entire backside from the neck down to his calves. He winced, opened his mouth, but only a croak escaped.

  “Yeah….” Derek drawled, the word long and drawn out. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  And it all came rushing back. The fire. Rena’s comfortable position as spectator. The explosion. The agonizing pain as shrapnel was ripped from his flesh.

  For the most part, his external layers were numb. As long as he didn’t move and as long as nothing else touched him, the pain was minimal. But, wait a minute… didn’t Derek explain that as a benefit of a certain experimental drug he’d been forced to take against his will?

  Derek spoke again, at least confirming his state of undress. “As much as I’d like to lay here next to your bare ass all day, I have other things to do.”

  Yeah, and Ty could come up with a few choice things as well. “Then get the fuck out.”

  “Now, is that any way to treat the guy who saved your career?”

  Ty turned his head back around, shunning the other man’s presence. “I would’ve healed up just fine on my own.”

  “Maybe. In a hospital full of inquisitive doctors who are legally bound to report injuries like yours.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I don’t?” The bed moved again, and Derek was once again in his line of vision. “Maybe I should take a picture, because from here you look like you’ve been in an explosion.”

  Not that he needed the reminder. With steely determination, Ty fought back the urge to ask about Rena. “Look, Derek, I told you last night I was done. You got your freedom, your woman, your… your freedom….” His pitiful attempt at disdain fell flat against the slur of his words. “Congratulations, now leave me alone.”

  He’d never been physically injured to this extent before, but why did it feel so much like a hangover? Sleep beckoned. Exhausted already, he willingly succumbed.

  “Dude, how can you go so long without taking a piss?”

  Fuck. Really? Ty smacked his lips, cracked an eyelid open, saw Derek leaning against his dresser. The man was chewing his thumbnail as if he hadn’t just executed the oldest trick in the book.

  Just the suggestion drew all focus to the pressure in his abdomen. Some of that was due to morning wood, which was sandwiched tightly between the mattress and his belly. “Well, I have to piss now, you prick.”

  “Frost sent you home with one of those hospital urinals. I’ll go get it.”

  No. No way was he going to pee in a bottle two days in a row. Though every movement pulled on some healing injury, Ty ground his teeth and managed to move one foot to the floor. Knowing his time alone was limited, he quickened his pace and slid the other leg down. Searing pain shot from his knee all the way up to his ass, but he was a fireman, dammit. Trained to handle himself in physically challenging situations.

  In an attempt to stay ramrod straight, he inched his toes forward while simultaneously pushing with his arms. Eventually, he made it to a stand without causing any further damage, but the moment he turned toward the bathroom, it all went to hell fast. Blood pumped, filling his wounds with throbbing pain. Ty gnashed his teeth with each rigid step. God, it was getting bad. Hurry. Hurry!

  Just a few feet from the bathroom, his leg gave out and he went down hard. The horrendous noise surely alerted the man he didn’t want around. Soon, a pair of converse sneakers filled his vision. When Ty managed to look up, Derek wiggled the clear plastic jug he held.

  “Still need it or are you laying in a puddle?”

  With a drunken curse, Ty acknowledged his predicament. This would have gone a whole lot easier if he’d just hung it over the side like he’d done for Rena. Feeling helpless and uncomfortable, Ty submitted to his quandary and allowed Derek to help him back to bed. It was the blind leading the blind since Derek was still struggling with his own injuries, but somehow they managed it.

  Ten minutes later, Ty’s bladder was empty, the soft mattress back beneath his stomach, and he’d even managed to suck down a whole sports drink. Though his mood hadn’t improved, his comfort level was now tolerable.

  It occurred to him that Chewie had been mysteriously absent since his awakening. That he’d been distracted from the fact put the sour back in his mood. That dog was more loyal, more loving, more forgiving than anyone he’d been in close proximity with the last few days. His furry little bud didn’t deserve to be forgotten.

  “I want Chewie back
,” he grumbled, settling his cheek on the pillows once again. “Next time anyone bothers to come over, it better be with my dog.”

  Derek rolled a stool out from between the closet and dresser and sat down. “That’s probably not a good idea until you’re healed up.”

  “The hell it ain’t.”

  “He’s staying with us at Austin and Danny’s house. Him and DJ are inseparable.”

  “That’s sweet, but you’ll have to get your kid his own dog.”

  “We’re thinking about it. But Chewie will be hard to replace. He’s trained. Smart. And when you let me borrow him last weekend, he really came through. Not just as an extra set of ears, but as a partner in crime.”

  “You can’t have him.”

  Derek angled his head, relaxed against the dresser at his back. “Far be it from me to separate a man and his dog. Besides, Mel hasn’t been too thrilled since he chewed up her underwear this morning.”

  That brought a reluctant smile to Ty’s face. “That’s my boy. Ole’ Panty Raid.”

  “Yeah, it’s funny how he never developed a palate for men’s underwear.”

  “Cuz he’s a stud. Got good taste.”

  It occurred to Ty he’d just fallen into easy banter with a man he no longer wanted in his life. He shifted uncomfortably, turned his head away. “I’m tired. Go home.”

  The stool creaked, rolled a little closer. “I actually came here to talk to you about something.”

  Ty stared at the motif of firefighting paraphernalia he’d hung on that side of the room. Beneath a few scuffed helmets was a row of wooden pegs that held his grandfather’s complete set of bunker gear from the late ‘40s. A reminder of where he’d come from. “The answer is no.”

  “Now, how do you know what I’m going to say?” Derek asked with a hint of amusement.

  “I heard you talking last night. You and Crystal are going to start up your own super secret security firm. IGP’s good twin.”

  Silence enveloped them for a moment. “I like that analogy, Ferguson. ‘The good twin’.”

  “I wish you all the best, man, but leave me out of it.”

  “We could use you. Especially starting out. At least until we find our wings, per se.”

  “Yeah, well this pushover has a full schedule from now on.”

  Not that Ty expected an apology for the unfair labeling of his character, but the noise Derek made proved he was also devoid of guilt. “Your schedule consists of eight twenty-four-hour days a month.” When Ty didn’t respond, he continued in a more earnest tone. “You know… you’re the reason I came up with this idea. The least you could do is think about it,”

  Ty faced him again and squinted in disbelief. “I’m the reason?”

  Derek shifted on the stool, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “It’s when we ran into each other at that dog food plant a couple years ago. We’d lost touch, but you were a friendly face who happened to be familiar with the situation.”

  “Are you talking about Austin’s blender rescue?”

  “Yeah, when a couple of Bennetts came out to rescue a Cahill from a world of hurt.” He flared his hands. “Alert the fuckin’ media.”

  Determined to keep that mien of rage, Ty ignored the humor. “Okay, what does that have to do with ‘the good twin’?”

  Nonplussed by his gruff manor, Derek continued. “When it was over, you said we should all get into search and rescue.”

  Ty replayed the moment in his head. “Oh, yeah. Your pop ripped me a new one for that.”

  Derek gave a solemn nod. “Bennetts don’t leave the family business. Not many things would make me want to, but something about that really appealed to me.”

  Ty remembered seeing that glint in Derek’s eye. “I figured as much. But you know I wasn’t referring to ‘us’, right? I meant you and Danny.” But something told him Derek knew that. Had misconstrued the suggestion on purpose. “And something tells me we aren’t talking about stranded rock climbers.”

  “But it’s search and rescue just the same. Think about it, Ty, when Crystal was kidnapped right out of her college dorm room, or when I was taken from a goddamned intensive care unit, we could have used someone like us. We were special cases, but there are plenty of kidnap victims out there who need more help than what the law can provide.”

  “Such as?”

  It was a response Derek was obviously prepared for. “When a child is abducted out of the country, for instance. You hear about it all the time, where the parents have no legal recourse for the simple fact most countries don’t put forth the effort to comply with our laws. Same situation applies to any American who might be wrongfully jailed overseas. With IGP’s resources, we can operate under the radar, ignore the red tape that has our government locked up most times, and bring these folks home.” When Derek was done, he waited in quiet expectation.

  “That’s quite a mouthful,” Ty drawled. “You and Crystal have been talking a lot since last night.”

  Derek twisted around, checked the Dalmatian clock on the wall behind him. “It’s almost three in the afternoon. We can’t all just lay on our ass.”

  With a strength born from anger, Ty lifted up on one arm and glared. “You know what? I was supposed to be back to my normal, comfortable routine of fighting fires and saving lives today.”

  Derek shrugged, completely unaffected. “You’ll make your next shift, which is Thursday, right?”

  Ty stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck do you know so much about my schedule?”

  “Crystal called you in sick today. She coaxed it out of some guy named Pruitt.” While Ty swore under his breath, Derek carefully rose from the stool and stretched. “Your next four days off in a row is Sunday through Wednesday which means we can start going over—”

  “No. I want you to stay far away from me and my job.”

  “—some names on the NCMEC list.”

  “The what list?”

  “National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. And then there’s also the Bureau of Consular Affairs, which we’ll —”

  “Dammit, Derek, you insist on dragging me into your shit.” It came out a near whine. “Well, I want no part of it. You had no problem cutting ties when you were mad at me, so do me a favor and stay mad.”

  When Derek returned the stool to its rightful place, he looked over his shoulder. “Want me to get you a tissue so we can move on?”

  Ty rose up another inch. “Fuck you. Get the hell out of my house.”

  Derek pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Rena is fine, by the way.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  He headed for the door. “She sends her love.”

  Though the declaration made his heart lurch, Ty decided the man was messing with him. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “We’ll see you Sunday,” came the shouted reply from the spiral staircase.

  “Kiss off!” Ty plopped back down on the pillow, alone once again. Oh, yeah. t“And I want my dog back!”

  CHAPTER 28

  Two days later:

  Tap water rushed over the ceramic plate, rinsing it clean before Ty added it to the dishwasher. Another dirty plate appeared on the counter next to him.

  Leonard Fines, the lieutenant on duty, clapped his shoulder. “Last one, Ferguson. Mah belly’s full.”

  Ty’s entire body stiffened in agony beneath the long-sleeved uniform shirt he wore. “Thanks.”

  Dammit, he was actually fine with the pain as long as no one slapped the shit out of him.

  Leonard took the offered dishcloth and moved to the table. “You okay? You look like you hurt and I’m not just talking about that old shiner.”

  The tongue-and-cheek nature of the comment was duly noted. “Sunburn,” Ty croaked.

  “I thought you had the flu.”

  The washcloth was handed back and Ty rinsed it out while Chewy drank noisily from his water bowl in the corner. “I fell asleep in the lawn chair.”

  “Christ, Ty.” Leonard, a dark man
of rotund stature, rubbed his middle as he leaned against one of three refrigerators in the spacious kitchen. “Since when did you get clumsy and irresponsible? You need to settle down. Find a nice woman to look after you.”

  Ha! The last one had nearly killed him. “Gee, how have I survived this long on my own?” With a fork, Ty scraped traces of chicken fajita into the trash.

  “Beats me. You reach a certain age when getting screwed is no longer the most important thing in life.”

  He’d been screwed six ways over by Rena, ending with the explosion he wore over his backside like a tight suit . “Still works for me,” Ty drawled. At least he’d still be breathing. Over the last two days of recuperation, he’d managed to talk himself out of ever wanting anything to do with that woman again.

  Leonard crossed his arms, cocked his head. “Haven’t you ever wanted to wake up with a nice, warm body next to you every morning?”

  Images of a bloody butcher knife slicing his shorts apart left him blinking for a moment. “No, I’m good.” The last plate went into the dishwasher as he effectively added another reason to steer clear of anything Hellberg.

  With sated thirst, Chewie offered himself up for a healthy dose of affection. Leonard, always the sucker, tapped his chest. Chewie hopped up and was rewarded with a good scrubbing behind the ears.

  “So, you’d prefer the company of this disgusting, crude, flatulent male,” he said, “over a lifetime of intelligent conversation with a woman you love.”

  “The very thought of your hands on me turns my stomach,” Rena whispered savagely.

  “The fewer words, the better,” Ty stated firmly. With the push of a button, the dishwasher hissed, signaling the end of lunch.

  Leonard followed him out of the brightly lit kitchen and into the darkened day-room where the other firemen stretched out in front of a televised game. Chewie chose a spot by one of the unoccupied recliners, turned a few circles and plopped on the floor. Ty carefully lowered himself into the chair and, with a loud sigh, settled into blessed normalcy.