Page 37 of Consumed
“Um….” Con wasn’t sure how to react.
“Chill. I think he’s digesting. Processing. Doing whatever he does.”
Before they hit the road again, Con rinsed Isaac’s arm with a water bottle, slathered on antibiotic ointment, and fastened a bandage over the cut. His own wounds back in the cave had become badly infected, but they had been much deeper and had involved fang-to-flesh contact. He was more optimistic about Isaac.
“You’re going to return to LA having been eaten by several species,” Con pointed out.
“Only two. And not by the one guy I was really hoping would put me in his mouth. You’re blushing, aren’t you?”
“No,” Con lied.
* * *
Con stopped again when Oh-a-cha-aw told him to. It looked to Con as if they were in the absolute middle of nowhere, but Oh-a-cha-aw seemed confident that he knew where he was and how to find his way home. The three of them stood beside the SUV with no witnesses but the stars.
“Old home?” Con asked, pointing at the sky.
Oh-a-cha-aw looked around for a moment before indicating a particular portion of the heavens. “Old home.” Then he lightly stomped his bare foot. “New home. Good. Soon we help you. No more dead.”
“Help us how?” Con was slightly alarmed by the last couple of sentences.
“Soon, Con. Now you, Isaac, good. Very good.”
He ducked his head in a bow, first toward Con and then toward Isaac, and took off at a swift lope. Con could see the white shirt through the gloom for a short while, but soon the darkness had swallowed that too.
“I can drive back,” Isaac said brightly.
“No way, dude.”
It was a long way back to Gerard, but Con felt as if they flew.
CHAPTER13
They both sleptin late on their last night in Gerard. After breakfast, Con called HQ, but Holmes picked up instead of the chief. “Tell him everything went well,” Con ordered. “We’ll debrief when we return.”
Holmes grunted something vaguely affirmative before hanging up.
“You didn’t mention the orc.” Isaac was trying to stuff his local acquisitions into his duffel bag. He hadn’t shaved that morning or done much with his hair besides wash it, and of course he looked as charmingly tousled as an actor in a rom-com.
“I can tell him when we get back. And if he gets pissed off about how I handled it, that’s on me.”
“Nope. I said I’d back you up. We’re partners, remember. Anyway, I don’t care whether the old man blows a gasket. You did the right thing.”
“Aliens.”
Isaac grinned. “Coyotes and ghouls and aliens, oh my.”
At Isaac’s urging, they took a different route back to LA, this time sharing the driving and covering the distance in one day. The previous day had taken an emotional toll on Con—who looked forward to swimming some laps and cocooning in his favorite recliner—but he enjoyed Isaac’s company during the drive. Isaac provided lessons on old rock music and talked about some of the adventures he’d shared with his parents when he was a kid.
“You love them a lot, huh?” Con hoped he didn’t sound too wistful.
“Yeah. They’re a little nuts, and I don’t know that they always did such a great job raising me, but they tried their best. Even their bad decisions were made with good intentions. I think it would be fun if you met them sometime. They own this sort of retreat place up in the Olympic Peninsula. People pay to spend a couple of nights in a geodesic dome my folks built, and they take classes in painting from Mom or in pottery with Dad, and they eat vegan food and get stoned and admire nature.”
Con, who was driving at this point, shot a quick glance at Isaac. “Meet them?”
“’Cause you’re my friend, who saved my life. ’Cause you’d find each other interesting. ’Cause… shit. Amnesty?”
“Go ahead.” Con felt anxious, but in a much more positive way than when facing ghouls and orcs.
