Page 28 of Splintered
He unloaded the groceries in the silent house, shoving pizza boxes and burritos into the freezer and lining up the bottles of wine in the kitchen. Maybe buying so much alcohol wasn’t the best coping strategy, but it’s what he had.
Ben trudged upstairs, a sucking reluctance pulling at him. What would he walk in to? He hoped, desperately, that Evan would be sleeping.
What would he do if he wasn’t? What would he do the next time Evan had an incident? An episode?
He needed a plan.
He pushed open the bedroom door. “Evan?”
The bed was empty. His note had been moved from his pillow to Evan’s nightstand. Evan’s phone lay face down on the mattress.
“Evan?” His heart beat faster. He checked the window, then the side of the bed. The downstairs was empty, and Evan’s car was still in the driveway, the doors still locked, his keys still in the front hall. He hadn’t left. Had he?
Groaning rumbled from the bathroom. Ben followed the sounds until he saw Evan’s feet poking out from the toilet room, his legs, his hips. He was crumpled on his belly in front of the toilet.
“Evan!” Ben ran to him, rolling him over. Vomit stained the side of Evan’s face, a trail of violent green bile from his lips to his chin and across one cheek. The toilet was spattered with vomit, a shotgun blast of putrescence. Ben tried not to gag. The bowl stank of rot and dirt, fermented plant and grass.
He helped Evan up, letting Evan lean into him as Ben wiped his mouth and cheek with toilet paper. Evan’s hands were covered in filth, vomit and something dark beneath his nails. He wiped him clean, trying not to think. He tossed the paper in the toilet and flushed.
Something clinked in the bowl. Something solid.
Ben peered into the swirling mass. As the water pulled the vomit away, small black triangles clung to the porcelain. They were curved at the tip, almost like barbs.
In his arms, Evan coughed, a chest-rattling, body-shaking shudder. He jerked and grabbed the toilet bowl. Ben scooted back just in time as Evan vomited again, green bile and dark rot and more of those black triangles.
One clung to Evan’s lip, after. As the toilet flushed again, Ben wiped it up with a piece of toilet paper, dried and examined it.
It was a thorn.
Blood trickled from Evan’s lip, split at the corners. He checked Evan over, poking at his throat, looking deep into his mouth with his camera flashlight. His mouth was scratched raw, his throat almost shredded. Drops of blood oozed from the cuts. Evan spat blood into a washcloth and pressed his forehead into Ben’s neck.
“’M so tired,” Evan whispered. His skin was clammy and cool.
“Let’s get you back into bed.” He helped Evan up, helped him stumble to the sink, rinse his mouth, wash his face. Helped him back to the bedroom and tucked him in, sitting beside him.
“Where were you?” Evan breathed. “I woke up and you were gone.”
“You saw my note?” Ben plucked it from Evan’s nightstand. “I had to get groceries.”
“I didn’t see it.” Evan wrapped his hands around Ben’s leg, nuzzling his face against Ben’s thigh. He seemed to want to sleep with Ben’s leg as his personal teddy bear. Ben sat back, arranging himself for Evan’s comfort. “I didn’t know where you were.”
“You had to have read it. I left it on my pillow with your phone.”
“I didn’t see it!” Evan snapped. “And I was alone.” His voice wavered. “I don’t like being alone. I don’t like not knowing where you are. Not right now.”
Ben rested his hand on the back of Evan’s head, running his fingers through Evan’s hair. How much more terrifying was this for Evan? As much as he himself was slipping, as he was fracturing under the strain… how was Evan holding up?
“I won’t leave you, hon.” He kissed Evan’s head, closing his eyes. “I’llneverleave you. I love you.”
Evan sighed, leaning into him. His breath was rancid, a fetid odor that had Ben breathing shallowly through his nose. Evan’s eyelids drooped, and his breathing leveled off as he started to fade while he laid on Ben’s shoulder.
Whispers rose from his lips. Harsh and clipped. Guttural. Almost like dogs barking.
“Evan?” Ben murmured. “You okay?”
“Did you see my priest?” Evan whispered. His voice sounded like it had been scraped over a cheese grater, his throat strangled until what pushed out was just a choked, ruined thing.
Ben pulled back. “What?”
