Page 43 of Freedom
Jake had a voice that carried straight through the walls of the old farmhouse. Roger eavesdropped shamelessly. If Tobias’s reaction was out of the ordinary, Jake would know better than anyone. And he knew Jake well enough to know if he was rattled.
“You know Roger wouldn’t hurt either of us, right?”
The sound of dishes shifting stopped. The water was still running, but Roger could imagine the kid wasn’t even breathing. He felt about the same.
When Tobias responded, it was too low to hear, even through the thin walls.
“I’m not angry, I just... Roger didn’t mean that, okay? He’s not gonna hurt you, he’s sure as hell not gonna hurt me, and...”
This time Tobias’s voice was louder, though still timorous. “Did he b-before?”
Roger heard a plate being set down, the rustle of fabric. This time even Jake’s voice was almost too low to hear. “He’s never laid a hand on me, seriously. He wouldn’t do that.”
It all clicked. The kid’s instant defensiveness. What had caused the response. Roger felt like a total jackass. The kid had been protecting Jake.
Roger let the rest of the conversation fade out. If he and Tobias were going to survive a few hours together while Jake wandered away to pound on cars, he would have to find something for the kid to do. For both their sakes.
By the time Tobias and Jake came out of the kitchen, Roger had set one of his more comfortable chairs by the window and found a couple of volumes on Eastern meditation that he thought might be useful to Tobias, if not necessarily enjoyable.
Tobias looked calmer and less like he was going to shake apart, though he still looked that, poor damn kid. Jake seemed to have things more or less under control, and so Roger didn’t even glance at his hand wrapped around Tobias’s shoulder. He might never stop listening at doorways like an old woman (it had saved his life far too many times), but he could give them this much privacy.
Jake noticed the chair right away and gave Roger a grateful smile. Roger just nodded. Least he could do was not make it worse for the kid.
“See that car, Toby, the gorgeous yellow rust bucket?” Jake pointed out the window, other hand still resting on Tobias’s shoulder. “I’m gonna be working on that one. You’ll be able to see me about ninety-five percent of the time, when I’m not grabbing tools or digging around under her. You can sit right here and... breathe and stuff.”
Tobias nodded curtly, eyes fixed somewhere between Jake’s feet and the windowsill.
Not wanting to startle them, Roger cleared his throat. Jake jumped, then looked embarrassed; Tobias’s head jerked slightly. “I’ve got some books you might enjoy too.” Jake’s appreciative smile and Tobias’s complete nonresponse (unless a further tightening of his shoulders counted) made him feel even more uncomfortable for all of them. “They may be a bit technical for your taste, but maybe you’ll get into them.”
Roger wished he could stop seeing how the kid’s hands clenched when he realized he was being addressed, how he kept his eyes on Jake’s shoes like he had something to hide, because that wasn’t helping.
So Roger handed Tobias his short stack of non-research books (he considered most of his books to be workandpleasure, with the exception of some of the more boring dictionaries) and then withdrew safely behind his desk where he could keep an eye on him and hopefully not scare the shit out of the kid. Before Jake left, he whispered something in Tobias’s ear and squeezed his arm. Tobias never raised his eyes even parallel with Jake’s chest.
It went better than Roger expected, though he didn’t make any advances with the research, as he paid most of his attention (as surreptitiously as he could) to the kid across the room. He thought he caught occasional flickers of Tobias’s eyes toward him as well, though whenever he did look, Tobias’s eyes were locked on his book or directed out the window to where Jake was puttering around with the car.
~*~
Tobias didn’t remembera single thing he’d read, and distantly, through the panic and hyperawareness of Hunter Harper’s every move, he thought might be a bad sign. But when Jake came in from working on the car (“Purring like a kitten, Roger, you just ain’t got the touch anymore”), he’d taken one look at Tobias and helped him by the elbow out of the chair.
“Hey, I’m gonna show Toby the yard.”
“Sounds good. You boys get outta my hair while I figure out what the hell this naga folio is talking about.”
Jake had a smudge of grease over his cheek. Tobias had a fleeting thought to wipe it away, but the urge died almost at once. Maybe once, a few days ago, a period as distant as another lifetime, that would have been permissible, but never on another hunter’s property.
Walking past the battered husks of old cars, the gray sky stretching over his head, Jake’s hand in his, Tobias realized how exhausted he was. How shaken and shaky he was, how he didnothave a handle on this. He’d hardly been able to eat anything that morning, and only away from the other hunter could he even start to feel hungry. Back in camp, he wouldn’t even have noticed, but in this strange new life Jake had given him, even that low level of hunger was a rarity. Another thing to treasure, another thing he could lose.
The half-broken cars and the sound of Jake’s footfalls beside him were reassuring, unlike nearly everything about Hunter Harper’s house, from the smell (fried food and old books accented with gunpowder and herbs for antihex charms) to the sounds (floorboards creaking as the hunter moved around in the morning, pouring water in the coffeepot and swinging open the front door to pick up the paper). Tobias wanted to hold on to this moment, this safety, forever in the same way that he never wanted to let go of Jake’s hand. Tobias knew he was probably holding on far too tight, but he couldn’t let go, even when he willed his hand to release.
Peace was a fleeting sensation. The first cold rush of fear returned as soon as they crossed back over Hunter Harper’s threshold.
When they got to the living room, Jake squeezed his hand and let go. Only now, when Jake had made it clear, would Tobias release his hold. “Hey, I’m a hot mess. Mind if I wash up quick? Then maybe we can raid Roger’s fridge, get a sandwich or a beer or something.”
Nodding quickly, Tobias folded his hands together tight. He wasn’t a burden that would hold Jake back from anything he had to do. Besides, Jake had left him for much longer periods. Tobias could be brave enough to manage without him.
Tobias tried to breathe while Jake was gone, to focus simply on the oxygen moving in and out of his lungs, but it was dangerously hard. He returned to his chair from that morning, where the stack of freak-approved books still waited on the end table. He picked one up and opened it in his lap, trying to remember the content and where he’d left off.
In the adjacent office, Hunter Harper spoke suddenly with sharp annoyance, and Tobias’s whole body flinched. “Only a grade F hunter looking to be freak bait would think a silver bullet would work against a wendigo. No, I know it’s called a silver bullet, but that don’t mean—you know what, I don’t often say this, but call the ASC to clean this mess up. You’re gonna end up wendigo chow with half a dozen more civilians, and then they’ll have to come out anyway. Call the fucking Director if that’s what it takes. At least he knows what he’s doing.”
