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“Angel?”
“Yes, Big Eddie?”
“I’m tired.” And he is. I can hear it. It’s like knives embedded in my skin.
“It’s time to sleep, Edward Benjamin Green. If you will not cross, you will need your strength. I can’t say what will happen to you, but if you stand, if you can stand and be true, then there may be hope for us all.”
“I’m….” He sighs.
“What?”
“I’m scared. Will you… will you stay with me? Until the end?”
“Until the very end. You’ve led a beautiful life filled with love and honor. Remember that, as it will warm you like fire and help keep the river away.”
“Will you tell him? Will you tell Benji I love him?”
A shuddering breath. “He knows. Oh, Edward, how he knows. But yes. Of course, yes. I will remind him every day. It may just be a touch, but he’ll know.”
Silence. Then:
“Your feathers. They’re….”
“Yes.”
“They are so… blue… and….” His voice trails off and doesn’t return.
“Good night, Big Eddie,” Cal says with a catch in his voice. “I will not forget my promise. Sleep and go with the grace of my Father. May you find peace, old friend.”
And in this dark, in this river, I open my mouth to scream. Water floods in and down my throat and I can’t breathe, I can’t take a breath, and I’m drowning, drowning, and I—
I open my eyes.
And groan as pain washes over me in rolling waves. My entire body aches like I’m covered in bruises from head to toe. My face is sticky and my ankle is on fire. My limbs are screaming at me. I try to stretch them out, but I can’t move very far, and my shoulder feels like it’s been sliced open. And a smell. Holy shit, that smell, like cat piss and ammonia all mixed into one. It stings my nostrils, burns my eyes. I cough as I try to take a breath around the gag in my mouth. The cough burns my chest. Sprung rib? What the hell? What the fuck is going—
Something wet drips on my forehead. I open my eyes again.
It’s dark, though there must be a light somewhere because it’s not pitch black. I’m lying on my side on a floor. It feels like rough carpet beneath me. My clothes are soaked to the skin, my hair wet and plastered against my forehead. I try to push myself up, but my arms are restrained behind my back. My legs are tied together. I wiggle my fingers and feel hard, thick plastic. It takes me a moment to realize what it is.
Zip ties. The sheriff’s department made a big deal about them when they arrived, saying they were less chafing than metal handcuffs and easier to put on whoever was being arrested. The backs of my hands are pressed together, fingers pointed out. My hands feel like they’re going numb.
Griggs.
Boss, he called her.
Christie.
Everything hits at once. I cry out against the gag in my mouth, banging my head on the floor, trying to make myself sleep again, trying to knock the thoughts out of my head. Cal’s eyes on mine, the surprise, the horror. The pain. The love. Oh, God, so much love there, and how could I have never seen it before? How could I not have realized?
And then he fell….
Griggs. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to rip his bones from his body, and once it’s done, I’ll go to the river and float away. I ache with the thought of it.
A muffled voice growls at my right.
My eyes are adjusting to the weak light emanating from somewhere. It’s not so much a room I’m in as it’s a shack. The walls and ceiling are dilapidated and leaking water. Rain thunders down on the roof, and a peel of thunder rumbles through the air, causing the shack to quiver on its foundations.
There’s a small camping lantern set on a card table pressed up against the far corner of the room. Two dark light bulbs swing overhead. Piled against the wall near the table are a dozen black trash bags, stuffed full, straining the plastic. One has split open and lies on the floor, spilling out its contents. Empty antifreeze bottles. Empty brake fluid containers. Plastic bottles with holes cut through the top.
