Page 23 of Freedom
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“So, I’ve been thinking. If we’re gonna do this thing, we’re gonna do it right.”
Tobias gave Jake a quizzical look, his fork speared into the center of three syrup-soaked waffles. “This thing is... hunting?”
“Yeah. I mean.” Jake swallowed, made a vague gesture with his nearly empty coffee mug. “If you still got any interest in doing it again. I’d understand if it’s... well, not something you really want to make a habit.”
Toby watched him, eyes sharp. He looked like he was trying to pick the words apart, searching for some meaning hidden within them. “I want to help you,” he said at last, slowly, like he wasn’t sure where the problem was.
“But you don’t gotta—” Jake glanced around, lowered his voice. “There’s lots of ways you can help, you know? Researching, watching the Eldorado... I don’t know, holding down the fort and stuff. You don’t gotta be on the front lines.”
Tobias’s brow knit, but his hazel eyes never left Jake’s face. A couple of months ago, Jake wouldn’t have bet money that Toby could hold his gaze. Now he wasn’t sure which of them would look away first, at least not in a conversation like this. “I don’t want to stay behind. I’m not scared. And I can help you. You said I d-did the other night.”
“Yeah.” Jake couldn’t stop the grin on his face. He looked away, tried to take a swig of coffee, and realized there wasn’t anything left in his mug. “You rocked that joint. Badass out of nowhere, right when that bastard was gonna—but you don’t need to keep throwing yourself at the baddies, you know that, right? I’m real proud, but it’s dangerous and you don’t have to... You get what I’m saying?”
Tobias nodded slowly. “Yes, Jake. You’ve been saying it a lot.”
“Right,” he said, and poured himself more coffee. “Guess I have. It’s just really, really,reallyimportant to me that you know that.”
Tobias took a small bite of waffle and studied him. “Are we going to be hunting more now?”
“Well.” Jake took a deep breath. “Guess it matters what comes up. Dunno how much I’ll be looking for cases. My calendar is full up just showing off all the wacky corners of the USA to you, but if something’s just there...Hunting is kinda what Ido.”
“Of course. It always has been.” Tobias sounded dismissively impatient, like Jake was stupid to point out something so obvious, like his hunting was a fact of the universe.
Jake had a sudden picture of himself, standing with his feet apart in the Freak Camp yard, telling the small boy crouched in front of him that he was an honest-to-God hunter. For a second, he thought his breakfast might surge back up.
“You shouldn’t have stopped,” Tobias said, frowning again. “N-not for me. So it’s good for you to start again. And I want to help you.” Thatwantcarried the slightest emphasis—Jake figured that in anyone else’s voice that would have been a hint, a pointed remark, but in Toby’s soft, quiet voice, it was a declaration of independence and strength.I’m finally telling you what I want, just like you ask me to every day. Listen.
“Okay,” Jake said, and this time didn’t try to hide his grin. “But we gotta do it right.”
Toby looked at him half-quizzically, but no way was Jake going to start talking about hardcore training and ghost ganking in public. Instead, he asked, “How you like those Frosted Flakes?” He kept being caught off guard by all the things Toby had never encountered before, all the things Jake couldn’t wait to get in front of him.
Toby glanced down at his cereal and smiled, suddenly and genuinely. “They’re great.” As Jake started to laugh, his smile faded. “What?”
“No, no—it’s not—” Jake was almost starting to wheeze, which was a problem: he had to get enough breath to tell Toby he wasn’t laughing at him. He reached across the table to take his hand in a warm grip, then finally said, “Toby the Tiger. That’s exactly what he says. You’re a tiger for real.”
Toby still looked baffled, though less worried, and finally Jake got it together to explain cereal mascots, and even when he remembered that maybe the tiger was named Tony and not Toby, it didn’t matter. His Toby was Toby the Tiger, now and forever.
When they got back to the motel, Jake sobered on the idea of them actually hunting together as a team. He spun a chair around to face Tobias, who sat on the edge of the bed, and launched into the mission overview.
“Before we step foot into another graveyard, you’re gonna be a ghost-blasting Schwarzenegger. I’m gonna teach you how to handle a gun, a flamethrower, a Taser, and every kind of blade I’ve got in the Eldorado. You’ll learn how to take guns apart and put them back together and how to load, clean, wear, and handle them like they’re attached to your own hands. Hesitation can lose you a finger or a major organ in this business, even your head if you’re not lucky, so you’ve gotta get to the point where there’s less than a heartbeat between thought and action, maybe a millisecond to choose between fight, flight, and freeze. And there’s no way in hell I’m gonna take you out to face some ugly-ass fang-face with an unhinging jaw or whatever else we meet unless you’re totally prepared. Got that, Toby? I didn’t get you out of Freak Camp to see you cut down by some asshole you could have put in the ground. Or any asshole, period.”
Tobias gave a quick nod, hands clasped together over his knees. “I understand, Jake.”
“Good.” Jake sat back, relaxing a fraction. “Good. We’ll also cover first aid, the whole works—or at least what I know, which would probably make a med student order a double brandy—until you can recite the hundred most common supernatural poisons and their cures backwards and forwards, wrap up a gash, and treat a concussion. We aren’t taking another hunt until you can do that too.” Tobias nodded again. Jake chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering what else he needed to cover. “I guess you didn’t get much PT in camp?”
“PT?” Tobias repeated, a tentative question.
“Physical training.”
Tobias’s shoulders stiffened, his eyes dropping as a familiar blankness shuttered over his face. After a beat, some signs of life came back into him, but he still seemed stiff, a little off, and didn’t meet Jake’s eyes. “W-what kind of physical training?” he asked quietly.
Jake took a moment to lock down the surge of anger. The image of Toby’s scarred back flashed across his mind as clear as though it were bared again before him in the light of day. His stomach flipped, a second sick roil that threatened to expel the recent pancakes at the thought of the kind of “physical training” Tobias had experienced.
It was a miracle, frankly, that Tobias didn’t look afraid. Cautious, uncertain, yes, but not terrified. Jake could almost believe that Tobias knew Jake hadn’t meant anything he’d experienced before. But the nausea and disgust in his own stomach made him take a long moment just to ensure his voice would be steady, calm. “Like running. Push-ups. Stuff to improve endurance and strength.”
Tobias’s eyes flickered back up to him. “No, we didn’t have anything like that.”
