Page 8
“Right,” I mutter, only slightly embarrassed. “Hank’s really great with the whole communication thing.”
Manuel ducks inside, rain trailing in with his shoes. The door shuts behind him solidly, and he locks it before throwing his hood back. Damp strands of dark hair fall over his forehead when he shakes them out.
Now that he's standing in the light, I get a closer look at his face. Guy looks to be about my age, maybe a few years younger.
“Name's Benji,” I say, more out of habit than anything. “Short for Benjamin. I'm new.”
“I know.”
“Cool. Guess that means we’re on the same page, then.”
He turns fully now, dark eyes sizing me up as he leans against the door. “Guess so.”
Well, shit. This is awkward as fuck. Why hadn't Hank told me I'd be joined by another guard tonight?
Deciding to take the only chair—because I'm an asshole like that—I let out a small laugh. “Are overlap shifts normal, then?”
Manuel shrugs stiffly. “Didn't used to be, but after what happened to Dennis, the big bosses decided that having two people on nights makes sense. Harder to lose your mind when you have someone to talk to, they think.”
“Oh,” I say, rubbing the forming bruise on the back of my head. “Did you know him well? Dennis, I mean.”
A beat of silence lingers between us before he responds. “Yeah,” he nods slowly. “I knew him.”
There's a catch in his tone that makes my shoulders tense. “So what happened exactly? My uncle said he left his post.”
Manuel pushes off the door and crosses the small space, stopping near the window. His attention drifts across the darkness like he’s checking for something. “They found the shack door still open. Lights were on, radio off the hook. Blood all over the walls.”
A chill slides down my spine. “People just… do that?” I ask, letting out a weak huff. “Walk off into the woods in the middle of the night?”
“Not people who follow the rules.”
Don't leave the shack.
Uncomfortable quiet settles between us, and I shift in my seat to try to shake it off. “So the solution is double shifts, then. That’s supposed to stop someone from… what, sleepwalking into the forest?”
Instead of responding, the guy just grabs a clipboard off the desk. “Show me your logs so far.”
Disoriented by the sudden subject change, I blink at him rapidly. “Not much to see. I just got here.”
He flips through the blank pages anyway, scanning them like he expects something to appear. “You fall asleep?”
“For like five minutes.” Heat creeps up the back of my neck.
Manuel hums. “You hear anything before I got here?”
My pulse kicks up again, flooding my ears. “Yeah, a couple bangs. Thought it was you.”
He peers up at me through his lashes. “That wasn’t me.”
Cold chills shoot down my spine as I glance toward the door. I know what I heard, what I saw. The damn doorframe was almost shaken loose by the force of those blows, so if it wasn't him…
“Then what was it?” I whisper out loud.
Manuel sets the clipboard down slowly. “Trust me, man… You don’t want to know.”
Swallowing hard, I meet his gaze once again. “Tell me.”
He studies me for a long moment, pupils growing larger the longer he searches my face. Warmth from his body radiates into mine when he leans in close, like what he’s about to say is meant for our ears and ours alone.
