by Roxie Spears
Suddenly the line went dead. Gerald quickly tried to redial Brian’s number, but it was no use. He realized he had forgotten to pay his phone bill, and he cursed himself for it. He was just a broke dock worker, and whereas life by the sea seemed simple enough, he never imagined that he would have to move. Not so soon, anyway.
Gerald need to do something about his leg. He slipped out of his clothes and began to inspect his wounds. There was a deep vertical cut on his calf, one that ran all the way down to his ankle. He limped into the bathroom and began to clean the wound, clenching his eyelids in immeasurable pain. Hunched on the edge of his bathtub, Gerald’s whole body throbbed with pain. He then wrapped it in gauze, took a moment to collect himself and moved on, faltering back into his room.
Gerald had some cash saved up, so he gathered that. He placed it at the very bottom of a dusty suitcase, which he began to pack. He threw in shirt after shirt, not hesitating, taking it all. He looked at his uniform with premature nostalgia, holding it up in front of him, eventually crumpling it up and tossing it into his suitcase, too. Gerald closed everything and checked on his leg again. The bleeding had lessened, but the scratches all over his body were an even greater distraction.
Slowly he rose to his feet and just stood there, like he was pinned to the floor. “What am I doing? I can’t leave her behind,” he said to himself.
Gerald had no idea where Beth was, but the mere thought of never seeing her again terrified him. She was probably worried sick about him, or so he thought. He paced the room frantically even though his leg couldn’t handle it. Eventually it trembled, forcing him to slump back down. He grabbed onto the edge of the mattress, stalling. Struggling to tie his shoelaces, he thought of a nearby town.
His thoughts froze when he thought of Beth again. There was no running away from this, he thought. Leaving this town without a trace was an impossible task, an irresponsible one. He wasn’t ready for this at all. He kicked the suitcase back under the bed with his left leg and sighed deeply. The sirens ceased and the town fell quiet again. The bleeding had stopped. His breathing had slowed down again. For a brief, unwavering moment, the world was sane again.
Chapter 13
“I know what I saw,” Beth said, her jaw clenched. A flustered officer stared back at her, eager to believe that a man with a scar across his face had done all of this.
“Have you seen this man before, ma’am?” he asked her, staring down at a heap of files. He was sorting through them shallowly, like he was pretending to be busy.
“Yes, I’ve seen him once at the diner I work at,” Beth said, her eyes wide. “I’d never seen him around before. Pretty sure he doesn’t live in this town.”
The officer seemed to write something down; Beth wondered if it was at all related to what she was saying. “So you’re saying he had a scar running across his face?” he asked for what seemed to be the tenth time.
“Yes,” Beth nodded, glaring at him. “He was standing right next to the car after it exploded.”
“So he’s an arsonist?” the man asked, exchanging brief glances with his colleague.
“I don’t know what he is,” Beth snapped, her eyes darting back and forth frantically. “All I know is that he’s somehow related to the incident.”
“We’re gonna need you to sit down with a sketch artist,” he murmured, passing his colleague a file. “What happened was a disaster, a total catastrophe.”
“We’ve had nothing like this in twenty years!”
“We’re gonna have to put out an APB. Roger, please report to the Sheriff.”
“Alright.”
Beth just stood there with her hands clasped behind her back. She couldn’t believe what was happening. The officers never found a body, but where did Gerald go? Did he flea or go home? Was he safe? A million questions were racing through her head, tugging at her sanity. Beth placed her hands on her hips and waited for more answers.
“What about Gerald?” she asked. “How are we gonna find him?”
“We’ve sent out search parties. Rest assured, ma’am, no body was found at the scene.”
Despite having heard that a couple of times before, Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Her mind conjured up images of a wounded Gerald crawling away from a flaming car, desperate and wailing with no one to help him. Her heart hurt just thinking about it. She clutched her shirt at the chest and squeezed it in her hand.
The Sheriff’s department was full today, with officers running around frantically, yelling into their telephones, stroking their mustaches while they completed their tasks.
Meanwhile, the news headlines flashed across every screen; Bomb explosion on Winston Street. One man missing. Suspect still on the loose.
Beth felt her heart sink. At least he was missing, not dead. She paced the station like a crazy person. She noticed she was getting a lot of weird looks, but she didn’t care. She was going to stay there until she got some answers.
“Ma’am, this is Thompson. He’s our sketch artist, please go with him,” the officer returned with a scruffy looking guy. Beth eyed him suspiciously then extended her hand out.
“Hi,” she said, shaking his head. He pulled her aside and slumped down on a chair, eyeing her. He then reached into his backpack, pulling out a sketch and pencil, crossing one leg over the other and finally parting his lips.
“Hello, could you please describe your suspect for me, starting with his eyes and the shape of his head?”
“He had a scar,” Beth said, her hands clutched in her lap. “He had piercing black eyes and a sharp jawline. No beard.”
The man began to sketch. He was slow and calm, not really connecting to Beth’s struggle. She burning on the inside, dying for some answers. This man wasn’t giving her any, taking his time, drawing strokes lazily, not saying much.
“He was tall and, um, he had a scar running across the side of his face and neck.”
He stopped and looked up at her. “A scar?”
“Yep,” Beth nodded. “A scar, a pretty big one, too.”
The man looked down and continued sketching. For a moment, it seemed like he doubted her. Beth grew furious, suddenly becoming convinced they didn’t believe her. She looked around, eyes floating over an ocean of faces and uniforms, eventually landing on something unexpected; frightening.
It was Carr again, only this time he was standing by the door of the station, staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. Her mind was definitely playing tricks on her. “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath, rising to her feet immediately.
“What’s wrong?” the man asked, turning to look behind him.
“It’s him, it’s him,” she said, her legs wobbling underneath her. She stumbled a few steps back. Carr pushed the door into the station and started walking towards her, a toothless grin plastered to his face. Beth turned, her gaze meeting the Sheriff’s.
“Suspect in sight, suspect in sight!” he hissed over the walkie talkie. Carr didn’t stop, in fact his grin grew wider. The Sheriff cocked his gun but it was too late; an orange flame filled Beth’s view as Carr breathed fire and burned him. Panic filled the station as the officers went running around.
“This is an emergency, I repeat! This is an emergency!”
Beth’s eyes fell on the Sheriff’s body; he was bleeding, petrified. Her whole life she had never encountered something so horrifying. But Carr didn’t want any of the men at the station; he wanted her.
“I can’t believe you’re the same woman I saw at the diner… you seemed so self-assured, so confident. I’m wondering what happened,” he hissed, drawing in closer and closer.
Beth turned around and bolted in the opposite direction. Carr chased after her, blasting the station with fire; she felt the heat on her back, she felt it all around her. Then she heard gunshots, but it was all in vain because Carr was invincible.
Beth’s eyes were fixated on the door. With her eyes on the exit, Beth suddenly felt herself lose control. She was on the floor, realizing she had tripped o
ver something. Flustered, she scrambled back up to her feet. Carr charged towards her, his hands aflame; it was a sight she had never witnessed before. Beth remembered closing her eyes, bracing for an impending doom when the sound of glass shattering penetrated the air like a bullet.
Her eyes shot open once again, and what she saw terrified her even more. The men at the station were in awe as a bear-like creature burst in through the windows, hurling itself over Carr. The fire in his hands extinguished as the creature bore its fangs at him, sinking them into his neck.
Beth watched, eyes wide, desperately trying to absorb what was happening. The two alien creatures fought each other, rolling around, bumping into things. The officers evacuated the station.
“What, you’re just gonna stand there?” one of the men asked, gripping her arm.
Beth turned around started for the door, but something was stopping her. She wanted to be there for Gerald. She never wanted to leave his side again.
“I said, come on!”
When she didn’t respond, the officer let go of her arm and scurried out the door. A chandelier came crashing down, and that was when she made a run for it. Smoke filled the room; Beth was surrounded. The fire had crawled up the walls, creeping around the wooden doorframe. Carr had fully shifted now, his wings almost as big as the entire room. He threw himself on her, but Gerald stopped him, landing on top of him again and, in one swift motion, cracking his neck.
Beth’s forehead wrinkled and her blood ran cold at the sight. Carr’s body went limp and he fell face first to the floor.
Chapter 14
“Oh my God!” Beth yelled, her whole body shivering. Gerald had taken Carr execution style; he was a dangerous man, both of them were. Gerald had transitioned fully, his fur filling Beth’s view; it was, if anything, pretty jarring. But despite his alien form she still knew it was him, in fact she thought she could spot him from a mile away.
“We need to get out of here,” Gerald said, grabbing her hand. Beth stared into his eyes; they were the gentlest green despite his fangs and morbidly beastial form. Carr wasn’t moving, he was a dead man. His wings, too, had gone limp, and were splain to his sides. His eyes had remained open, bloodshot and dry. His lips were slightly parted and dry at the corners. Beth wondered if he was actually dead, the thought of him coming back to life terrifying her. Carr resembled a dead crow, his wings brittle and broken and thick like bat wings.
Gerald scooped her up in his arms like in the movies, bursting through a broken window and ending up on the street. Beth felt comfortable in his arms, which had grown five times in size and were now covered in a thick, almost grand layer of fur. Yet his face remained the same; recognizable. Beth smiled at him, drinking him in as he shifted back to his human form.
“No one can know about this,” he whispered, his lips parting to a mischievous smile. He looked around, and the street was already full of cops. The people of West Haven were in for a lot, Beth thought, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. Gerald was quick to hold her, the warmth of his chest reassuring her more than anything. He had saved her that day, and even though there was something outwardly jarring about a werewolf boyfriend, Beth still saw herself with him. She didn’t know what the future held, if she would have a future with Gerald at all, but something was brewing, she felt, like a sweet morning cup of coffee.
“Excuse me, sir, what happened here?” a cop asked, stumbling in their direction. Gerald turned his head towards the Sheriff’s department, taking in the familiar sight of smoke billowing into the air. He shook his head and let out a long sigh.
“There was a man… he barged into the station and just set the whole place on fire,” Beth spat. “My boyfriend was waiting for me outside. He saw what was happening, so he burst in and got me out of there.”
Gerald pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile. It was clear he felt warm at the effect of Beth’s words.
“Alright, stay safe,” the round-bellied man said, cocking his gun and racing in the direction of the station. Gerald grabbed Beth’s hand and began to walk farther out, crossing the road and standing there, watching the world fall apart.
“It’s like everywhere I go, trouble follows me there,” he said, sighing heavily.
Beth wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. A heaviness overcame here, but she walked with him. “Whenever we feel bad, we walk it out,” she whispered into his ear. The department diminished with distanced the farther out they walked. Beth felt a lump rise in her throat, but she held back the tears. Seven cops had died that day, and there was nothing she or Gerald could do about it.
“Are they just gonna chase you everywhere you go?” Beth asked, her voice low and quivering.
“I think so. I need to keep running, it’s always been that way,” he replied grimly.
The two headed in the direction of Beth’s apartment. “It’s safer for you there,” she said, holding onto Gerald’s arm, inspecting their surroundings as they walked.
“I’m always gonna be there for you. You know that, don’t you?” Eventually they slowed down, strolling down the sidewalk, looking out on the sea again. Beth’s neighborhood brought along a sense of comfort; of safety. Gerald’s muscles began to relax as the disaster downtown seemed to tumble away. They could still hear sirens in the distance, but the coastline encompassed them warmly like a mother, telling them that all was well with the world.
Beth knew all too well that wasn’t the case, but she chose to believe it, if only for a second. “Will I ever see you again?” she asked, resting her chin on Gerald’s shoulder, peering up at him with the curiosity of a flustered child.
His only reply was a prolonged sigh. “Fair enough,” Beth whispered, rather to herself. Gerald’s truth would haunt him wherever he went, which was why he needed to keep moving. He was the type of man who was never meant to stay in one place. She knew that all too well.
“You will, we’ll see each other again,” he said suddenly, gripping her hand a bit more tightly. Beth’s eyes swelled up with tears. She turned to face the wind, allowing a few to fall freely, spilling down her cheeks.
The pair ran up the stairs to Beth’s apartment. It felt like a safe haven in the midst of all this chaos. When Beth looked out the window she saw remnants of the downtown fire, clenching her jaw at the horrifying sight, wondering where Kristoff’s men where now.
“What if they get to you, what if they come here?” she asked, turning to face Gerald.
“Never,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “Beth, meeting you was the best thing that’s happened to me this year. I’m never letting this go, do you hear me?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Me, neither,” he said. “But I promise you, Beth. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.”
“Me, neither,” her voice quivered. “And that’s not an easy thing to say. For an entire year you were just this face, and now you’re… someone. Of flesh and blood. You’ve become so close to me and I don’t know what to do.”
Suddenly his arms were around her again. A part of her wanted to pull away, to shield herself from an onrush of emotions.
“Come with me.” Gerald’s words went out and were ignored. The silence descended on them like a heavy rain cloud. Like Gerald, it demanded an answer.
“And where will we go? Where will my life go?”
“Do you like it here?”
“I said… I’m comfortable. I don’t know if I like it, I don’t think I want to live here for the rest of my life. But where would I go? Who will I be if I’m not here?” She paused, considering. “It’s like… I’ve become a part of this place. And it’s become a part of me.”
“We’ll find oceans somewhere else.”
“But where? I can’t just quit my job and run away with you, can I?”
Gerald pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re right,” he concluded, crossing his arms. Beth pressed her lips to his, kissing him passionately. They stared at each other in
an odd way, as if involved in a silent argument. As she kissed him, Beth felt her body loosen, melting into his. She relented as Gerald played with her hair, holding her tighter and tighter in his arms.
“I think I’m falling for you,” she confessed, her eyes boring into his.
There was nothing to do in this moment but enjoy each other’s company. The world, Beth thought, didn’t stop for anyone. It didn’t stop for the greatest love. It wasn’t stopping for a diner waitress and a man with a secret. No matter how great the love and the need to be together, the world proved to be quite the relentless place. Beth had a life in West Haven long before she met Gerald, and even though she had always thought of herself as a free spirit, it was times like these that made her question all that she was.
Epilogue
The woodland was quiet like every day. Even the sound of Gerald’s footfalls was almost silent, but he had gotten used to that long ago. Quietude, he thought, was a normal part of life. No, it was the only part, the most essential one. Gerald couldn’t imagine himself living anywhere near the city. Cars were a rare sight, and people were an even rarer one. The woods encompassed and hypnotized him, reeling him into a lifetime of voluntary isolation.
Leaving West Haven was quite hard. Gerald remembered everything about the dock and its people. His heart grew warm just thinking about it. For now, the susurration of the leaves in the gusty wind filled was all he could hear. It was the perfect backdrop to his nostalgic moments, and perhaps the perfect substitute to the sound of crashing waves and annoying squawking of the seagulls.
Looking up, Gerald was mesmerized by the fluttering leaves dancing in the boughs, forming a living canopy overhead. No matter how much time had passed, he never seemed to get sick of this view. Every now and again he heard a car zoom by, its passengers making their way from one destination to the next, oblivious to his existence in the woods.
