Page 35 of Fortress
Toby went quiet between one scream and the next, staring at the short, stocky woman in her hazmat suit. “D-Director?” His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed down on the gurney.
Cunningham stared at Toby’s prone body with thinned lips. Then she shook her head sharply and turned for the door. “I need to speak to both of you.”
Turner caught Jake’s eye and nodded for him to follow. He gritted his teeth, but Toby was completely out. He still didn’t want to leave—what if Toby woke while he was gone, still terrified and fighting and so fucking helpless?—but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice.
Cunningham led them back toward her office, but a nurse stopped her halfway down the hall. She glanced at Jake and Turner, then back to Cunningham. “Doctor, there’s a patient at the nurse’s station who wants to talk to the hunters who came in with him. He shouldn’t even be out of bed yet, but he insisted on getting a wheelchair and his wife brought him over. They’re very determined.”
Cunningham shot a glare back at Jake, then nodded to the nurse. “All right, then, let’s see what he wants.”
They found the man white-faced in a wheelchair, one arm in a sling, bandages forming a patchwork over his face and neck. A tall woman with red-rimmed eyes stood behind the chair.
Jake wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup, but the man’s eyes widened, and he raised his hand as soon as he saw Jake. “Him. That’s the hunter who saved me and my kids. He and the skinny boy.”
Jake winced. Even though the cat had long since shredded the bag at Methodist Hospital, it never felt good to be outed as a hunter in public. On a research mission, that could clam up the contacts. Surrounded by monsters, that could get you killed. With the nurses behind the counter stopping to watch and Cunningham looking like she wanted to lock him in a room like they had with Toby, this felt more like the second scenario.
Forcing a smile, Jake gave a little modest wave. “Nah, we were just in the right place at the right time, anyone would’ve done it,” he said loudly, then ducked into the nearest empty exam room, hoping they would follow him. He appreciated a good word as much as the next guy (okay, maybe less because of the whole incognito thing), but he really didn’t want to do this in public.
The couple was Jane and Matt Hoffman. Matt was a sallow, middle-aged man with gangly limbs and thinning hair. By the look of him and his rapidly-blinking eyes, he was a desk workerwhose biggest outdoor experience was the semi-annual fishing trip with the boys. Jake introduced himself as “Jake, just Jake, no last name. Makes it harder for the monsters to find you.”
“Yes, of course,” Matt rasped. “I’m sorry, I’ve heard that hunters like to stay undercover, but I had to see you, I had to thank you in person, I couldn’t—”
“It’s... I’m just doing my job. Glad it didn’t turn out worse.” Though he personally felt it couldn’t get much worse than this (but Toby was going to live; he was going to be okay, they’d get past this). For Toby’s sake, and the sake of everything he’d risked, Jake supposed he should be glad that it hadn’t been a worse shitstorm.
“But itiseverything—you saved not just my life, but my two sons, and my nephews—the whole clan.” He offered a feeble smile. “But where’s—the other boy, your partner, who struck that... that thing first?”
“Toby’s getting patched up,” Jake said curtly. “Got kinda beat up, but he’ll pull through.” He didn’t look at either of the doctors, but he silently dared them to say anything about Toby’s past. Just let themtry.
Matt shook his head in disbelief. “It all happened so quickly. I can’t remember much, but I can still see the way heleapedonto the truck to stick that knife in the creature’s eye...” He shuddered. “I’ve heard about heroism like that, but I’d never actually seen it before today. I wanted to shake his hand and say thank you.”
Jake swallowed hard, but he managed to say, “That’s Toby.”
“You can’t see him at the moment,” Cunningham said. She glanced at Jake and then met the patient’s eyes. “His condition won’t allow visitors who aren’t family.”
Jake nodded stiffly toward her, then addressed Matt. “I’ll tell him for you.”
Alice Dixon (twenty-seven, brunette, better with a firearm than with makeup) was playing solitaire at her desk. She used an old-fashioned deck of cards. She liked computers, but there was something comforting and pleasantly untraceable about the weight of the cards sliding through her fingers.
Then the alarm at her elbow sounded.
Swearing under her breath, Alice dropped her handful of cards and checked the message. Someone had flashed their ASC badge in a hospital outside Phoenix, Arizona. She almost shut off the alarm and finished her game (they had to follow up on all notices, and shewouldbecause the work the family did was important, but not always urgent). But then, dutifully, she keyed in a query for the badge.
Holyshit.Jake fucking Hawthorne?
The Hawthornes (Leon, Jake, plus Sally Dixon) were practically mythical in hunter circles, and especially for the Dixons: the woman whose death had marked the dawn of a new age of supernatural awareness in the world; the civilian who became a hunter because of her; and the child of that union, said to be as fierce as his mama and stubborn as his old man. Hawthornes were like the most elusive ghosts; no matter how good you were, they could stay a couple steps ahead.
Some had suggested that Hawthorne Sr. had made a deal that no self-respecting hunter would in order to stay out of the Dixon radar the way he had for the last twenty years, and that the son had inherited the perks. Alice had to admit that, after seeing a few old photographs of the Hawthorne family vehicle (a 1967 Cadillac Eldorado would not have been her first choice for going under the radar. It wouldn’t have made the top seventy,honestly), she was inclined to believe that either Hawthornes were damn clever sons of bitches or luckier than sin.
In addition to being sneaky and extremely averse to using his ASC badge, Jake Hawthorne was listed as a high priority on Director Jonah Dixon’s list. The list unofficially known as “I want to know everything going on in this person’s life and talk to them at the next opportunity.”
Alice found herself grinning. In addition to admiring the way Jonah Dixon had created streamlined, bureaucratic efficiency out of an unruly band of hunters who more often than not refused to talk to each other, she had always appreciated the times her cousin Jonah helped her out, whether with some well-placed advice to help her through basic hunter training or hiring her for this job. Most people wanted to make Director Dixon happy, but she honestly liked being able to help.
She didn’t mind getting noticed by the higher ranks of the ASC either. Her current position of Regional Public Relations Manager was a new one, but it was an important job overseeing responses to complaints about the ASC and dealing with any unpleasant incidents (and ideally preventing them). There had already been rumors of redirecting her work to DC. That was good because frankly, Alice didn’t want to be stuck chasing down local idiots waving fake ASC badges, black market amulets sold with a counterfeit ASC logo, and hysterical reactions to freaks on a case-by-case basis.
A Hawthorne alert was exciting. And worth a field trip.
She swept up the cards, dumped them in her bag (a large purse barely on the good side of stylish and feminine, with room for her semiautomatic, salt bag, lighter, and a few other necessities), typed a quick update to the Director, and then picked up her phone to ask for the first flight to Phoenix.
After Cunningham and Dr. Turner persuaded the Hoffmans to go back to their room, they more unceremoniously kicked Jake out for the remainder of the night.
