Page 26 of Freedom
“Good,” Tobias said, and sat back in his seat, but it was many more miles before he opened his book again.
Chapter Five
Tobias chose East Liverpool, Ohio as their endpoint for the day. Jake often handed him the map and told him to pick a place to stop for the night. Tobias had gotten pretty good at converting inches on the map—measured by finger joints and folded roadside brochures—into hours on the road, figuring out feasible distances they could travel and still arrive before midnight when the hotels closed without Jake speeding too much down the interstate. The giddy thrill never faded over the knowledge that Jake would let him choose so much, where to point the Eldorado and where they would sleep that night.
These days, their direction and destination depended more on what rumor of a hunt they were following than on Jake’s whims or Tobias’s random pick. They’d only had one successful hunt since the first ghost hunt: a small-town poltergeist that had tried to make a home in an old lumber mill. They’d investigated a couple others, from a haunted restaurant to a cursed typewriter, but those cases hadn’t gone anywhere. It had been both agonizing and reassuring to work on those cases, interviewing civilians (or at least, as Jake said,Offering moral support) with Jake, following leads and weighing evidence. Those had been some of Tobias’s best days since he’d gotten out of Freak Camp. But as much as he loved everything about working with Jake and knowing that Jake cared enough to take things slow, he wanted the satisfaction of seeing a real hunt out to its conclusion, knowing they’d made an actual difference and that reals—those happy, smiling, carefree people he was getting more used to every day—were safer now because of what they’d done.
He’d thought they were on the right track with a couple other leads that looked like they could be a demon and a djinn, but Jake had muttered and made a call to Roger, then came back saying it wasn’t their gig. Tobias didn’t question that; Jake knew these things better than he did, and Tobias knew that Hunter Harper had decades’ more experience, but he hoped they’d find one that was their gig soon.
In the meantime, Jake told him to pick their endpoints, and Tobias stretched out the huge, battered maps, running his fingers down the thick highway lines even after he had found the right place just because he liked the look and feel of the paper under his hands, the knowledge that wherever he named, Jake would stop there because he trusted Tobias. He liked East Liverpool. The town stood at a crossroads of the Ohio River with three highways and two states, with a third state border less than ten minutes away. But he hadn’t chosen the town for any of those reasons.
“It r-reminded me of this book I’ve been reading,” Tobias told Jake over dinner, half a slice of meatloaf with gravy sprawled over his plate, forgotten in the explanation. “It’s really good, the l-librarian at Joliet told me it was a classic, and it has a Liverpool too, though not in Ohio, or even the United St-states. It’s about England in the 1800s, and there’s a bunch of stories about two men who live and travel together and s-solve crimes, and stop bad things from happening, and save people. And they take care of each other.” Feeling himself flush, Tobias dropped his gaze to his baked potato, prodding it with his fork. “Holmes is kinda h-harsh sometimes, though. To Watson and everyone else.”
“Huh.” Jake leaned back, stretching his arm out along the back of the booth, fingers splayed. Fleetingly, Tobias wished he were sitting on that side, Jake’s arm that close, his hand brushing Tobias’s shoulder. “Isn’t Holmes some kind of genius badass detective?”
“Oh, yeah. He knows everything by little clues no one else sees, so he figures out all the answers in a-advance. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, though, just keeps people in suspense so he can have a big dramatic reveal at the end. He doesn’t even tell Watson.”
“Well, that makes him a pompous jackass. Guess I’m more of a fan of cute genius badasses who aren’t totally stuck on themselves.” Jake’s boot nudged alongside Tobias’s sneaker, a crooked smile tugging his lips.
Tobias’s face was still warm. He wasn’t sure if Jake had touched Tobias’s shoe on purpose, but he thought it might be okay to leave it, if just for a moment longer. “So, sh-should we get the pie to go? Maybe eat it later back at the motel?”
Jake grinned and waved down the waitress. Tobias felt a rush of pleasure, knowing that Jake had meant him a moment ago, knowing that Jake thought pie was a good idea. Maybe Jake liked that Tobias had made the suggestion almost as much as the idea itself. Jake liked it when he said things, offered opinions, tried to piece together the facts of a case like Sherlock Holmes did.
Maybe—just maybe—he liked Tobias in another way too. He wasn’t sure he dared to think about it; the idea was so shocking andwrongaccording to the facts of all the universe, facts everyone knew both inside and outside of Freak Camp. Other than the guards, humans never dirtied themselves by touching monsters, let alone engaged in any of the relationships he’d read about in books.
But he doesn’t see you as a freak, a voice inside him whispered.
But that didn’t matter. Did it? No, Jake would certainly find someone else, someone who deserved him, whenever he wanted to. Tobias was pretty sure that Jake already did that some nights when he went out to bars while Tobias read in the motel, but it wasn’t anyone he talked about later or wanted to see again before they left town.
He had to be imagining things, his stupid freak brain making things up like he had any right to them. Jake would be disgusted if he knew. He wouldn’t think of it again.
~*~
Jake looked up curiouslyfrom his notepad, his expression a perfect study of sincerity and concentration, almost to the point of parody. Tobias wasn’t sure what the witness thought about the expression, but he personally believed that if he’d ever looked at a guard that way, he’d have gotten slapped at minimum. “Exactly how long have your chickens been misbehaving according to moon phases, Mr. Havers?”
Either the rules were different for reals or the farmer wasn’t as good as Tobias at seeing the quiet scorn and amusement underneath Jake’s tone. He answered very seriously, with a hint of confusion wrinkling his blue eyes. “’Bout two months now, they’s been acting funny every couple o’ weeks.”
