I skip the parking lot, instead roaring up to the front of the building and coming to a screeching halt. As the three of us climb out of the car, I take Marlo by the hand, letting her know I’m here without exchanging glances. I keep my face straight ahead, thankful to be shrouded in more shadows.
I can’t help wondering if we are making the right move. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe we should’ve just ditched the car and disappeared into the desert. The second I think this, however, I shake my head and push the thought away. Eddie would find us, and he’d find us without a way to fight back. At least we’ll have a chance now.
We hustle up the steps and arrive at the locked front door. Noah extracts a set of keys from his pocket, but he puts them away after noticing someone approaching us through the glass. Noah waves.
There’s a loud metallic pop as the door is unlocked and opened from inside. A large man in a parks department uniform greets Noah with a smile. “What’s going on, buddy? Your shift doesn’t start for like three hours.”
“I just left something in my locker,” Noah explains.
“Come on in,” the security guard offers.
A name tag affixed to his chest readsKENNY HALL.
We shuffle through the door, which Kenny promptly closes and locks behind us. “What’s with the bat?” he asks Noah.
Noah shrugs and casually offers the first non-answer he can think of. “It’s dangerous out there.”
This seems to do the trick. Kenny’s eyes widen a bit. “You all hear about the crazy—” he starts, then abruptly halts when he gets a good look at me. “Jesus Christ!” Kenny blurts. “Are you alright? We have a first aid kit!”
“I’m fine, it was just …” I start, then trail off. I suddenly realize there is absolutely no good explanation for the carnage that’s been laid out across my face.
Thankfully, Kenny seems genuinely more interested in helping me than parsing whatever rationalization I cobble together. He’s already moving away from us, shouting over his shoulder as he hurries toward a back office.
“There’s bandages and some Neosporin over here,” Kenny calls out. “I don’t know if I’ll have enough, though. You should really get to a hospital.”
“Wait!” I shout, stopping Kenny in his tracks. I reach into my pocket and extract one of the nose clips. “Put this on.”
The guard just stares at me awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. “Well … what is it?”
“A swimming clip,” I reply.
A very, very long pause hangs in the air between us. “Why?”
Instead of answering, I jog over and place the clip inKenny’s hand. “Here,” I say, lowering my voice to a gentle coo and closing his fingers around it. “Please?”
“Uh … thanks,” Kenny says.
Kenny is struggling to maintain his friendly demeanor, but he seems deeply put off by my gesture. My request is simple enough, even if it doesn’t make much sense to a guy who’s naive to the supernatural drama swirling around him. I’ve asked plenty of men to domuchstranger things in my lifetime, but this reaction is a new one. Of course, the answer is obvious, and when it finally comes barreling into my conscious mind I can’t help letting out a short, awkward laugh.
I don’t look like an influencer anymore.
While Eddie’s powers of persuasion seem to have only grown with the destruction of his outer shell, it appears mine have withered away.
“Hey!” Noah calls out from across the room, unexpectedly stern. “Put it on and keep it on.”
Kenny’s confusion remains, but his expression softens as he slowly reaches up and places the clip on his nose.
“Thank you,” Noah says.
With that, Kenny hurries off into the other room in search of a medical kit. It sounds like he’s rummaging around in a metal cabinet.
“I reallyamfine!” I call in protest. “If you wanna help, just make sure that clip is snug on your nose!”
No response. The sound of pens and pencils rustling, drawers opening and shutting.
This main chamber of the building is quite large, withvaulted ceilings that are built to resemble a log cabin. The middle of the room is full of small posts that can be linked with fabric bands at various points to create line formations, although none are currently connected, and there’s a small gift shop nestled on the right. Balancing this out is a long ticketing desk to the left. A taxidermy ram stands proudly at the far end of the room, watching over us with its marble eyes.
Noah takes off in the opposite direction, heading down a staff hallway, and while I appreciate Kenny’s desire to help, right now I’m sticking with my friend. The last thing we should do is split up.
