THE MOST PAINFUL part of David’s stay at the hospital was watching his wife cry. It sounded like so much cornball Hallmark sentiment, but it was true. David chalked part of this fact up to the morphine, which coated his pain receptors with its wonderful spongy syrup while leaving the higher precipices of emotion unprotected. He stroked her hand softly, making an effort to hide how taxing he found the movement.
“How’s Brandon?” he asked.
“Worried sick, but okay. I think your legend’s grown exponentially in his mind since last night, and it was pretty grand to begin with.”
“Gonna be a hell of a letdown once he hits his teens.”
“I let him stay home from school today. Mom’s watching him. I’m gonna bring him by later this afternoon for as long as the doctors let us visit. I just wanted to come by myself first. In case it was, you know . . . bad . . . ”
David nodded, approving. “How bad is it?”
Nancy made a sound halfway between a laugh and a cry. “I dunno, you’re the homicide detective, you tell me.”
“Well, I’m not a case yet, so that’s a good sign.” He shifted back in his bed, grunting at the pressure it put on his ribs. Nancy put a guiding hand on his shoulders. Relief softened the bags under her eyes, but it was still clear she hadn’t slept much, if at all. “You should go get some rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been sitting here since what, one AM?”
“More like 1:30.”
David checked his watch. “That’s almost ten hours.”
Her eyes swung to the left, a signal David recognized as her intention to change the subject. “Mom called my cell this morning. She said someone from the Review came by the house, asking questions about what happened.”
“I doubt she had much trouble driving them off.”
Nancy twirled her wedding band around her finger. “I guess they want to get your side of the story.”
“The precinct already issued a statement, didn’t they?”
“The papers are saying it was some sort of wild animal.”
David looked at the tubes and needles probing the back of his hand. A strip of medical adhesive held the tubes in place. Saline dripped down from a plastic bag suspended on a steel pole.
“David?” Nancy asked, gently summoning his gaze to meet hers. “Was it a wild animal?”
“Sure it was.”
Nancy gave him a long, silent look.
“It was big and hairy. A bear, by the looks of it. Or a wolf.”
“You couldn’t tell a bear from a wolf?”
“I wasn’t exactly able to take notes,” he snapped, instantly regretting it. Nancy flinched at the sound of his voice, so rarely raised. He took her hand with his and squeezed it. “It . . . it went for Walter first. Of the three of us, I mean. Dan was closer to the woods. It killed him and we were all in a line and it went for Walter. It could’ve gone for Melissa or me, but it didn’t. It picked Walter. And I stood there and I watched . . . ”
“Don’t. I know you, David. You did everything you could.”
David didn’t answer. He ran his thumb back and forth over the strip of medical adhesive. Nancy touched her fingers to his cheeks and kissed his forehead. He smiled up at her, wan but sincere.
“I should probably go,” she said. “I’ve got a deal closing today and I’m sure Brandon’s itching for a full update.”
“Do what you have to do. I’m totally fine here. They said I shouldn’t need to stay for more than a few days. Have a rest for a few hours and bring Brandon by this evening.”
“I’ll see what I can do, rest-wise.” She gave him a final kiss, on the lips this time, and flapped her fingers in a wave—a gesture so distinctly Nancy it nearly brought tears to David’s eyes. “You need me, you call, okay?”
“You got it.”
David tried to clear his mind of images from the night before. It wasn’t easy. Every inhalation seemed to carry with it the charnel house stink of the thing’s breath, and the whirring of central air fans evoked the growl of its throat.
That afternoon, Officer Myers paid him a visit. She looked strange to him in her civilian clothes—a green blouse atop a tan skirt—despite the fact he’d seen her only a few times before. The uniform did that to people. He straightened up in bed, smoothing down the sheets against his legs and ensuring nothing untoward was peeking out from beneath the covers.
“You mind my stopping by? I don’t mean to intrude.”
“No, yeah, it’s fine.”
Her eyes flicked to the floor, back to him. “You okay?”
“I’ve been better, I guess, but yeah.”
“Good.” Another flick, away and back. “I, uh, you’ve heard about Walter?”
David nodded. Melissa closed her eyes, her sympathy almost successful at masking her relief. She met his eyes evenly this time. “Dan got it, too.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Me too. You guys were close?”
“You could say that.”
Melissa nodded. They were cops; nothing more needed to be said. “Delduca made an official statement on our behalf. About the attack. He said it was a wild animal of some kind, likely a bear, though we couldn’t say for sure.”
“I heard.”
“I guess it was dark and we had trouble making a definite identification.”
“You know how it is. Heat of the moment and all that.”
Melissa bowed her head. “I get it, okay? Clam up or get a one-way ticket to desk duty for the rest of your career, if not forced medical retirement. But since it’s just the two of us, can we cut the bullshit for a few seconds? That thing was a bear the way Hulk Hogan is a typical retiree. We dumped thirty rounds into it between the three of us and it didn’t even slow down. If it weren’t for that fucking voodoo of yours, it would’ve devoured all four of us.”
David fiddled with the alligator ring. “A lucky punch, that’s all it was. I must’ve startled it.”
“Lucky punches don’t glow. I saw what happened. It was like you threw a handful of the sun at the damn thing.”
“I didn’t see any glow,” David said, even as the sublime spark relit itself in the theatre behind his eyes.
Melissa pursed her lips. “You seriously expect me to believe that . . . thing was just some Hulked-up bear?”
“It could be. Who knows? We were both pretty hysterical. Our memories can’t be trusted.” He looked down at his ring, his free hand worrying it in jerky circles around his finger.
Melissa grabbed his hand. “It’s silver, isn’t it?”
David snatched his hand back, cradled it against his chest. “So what if it is?”
“It fits,” she said. Her voice cracked with an uneasy alloy of laughter and sobbing. “It’s fucking lunacy, but it fits. All of it.”
“What fits?”
Melissa leaned forward until her face was inches from David’s. “Do not give me that bullshit, okay? Do not. You know damn well what I mean. You’ve thought it too. I get why you’re denying it, but it’s in there, and don’t you dare try to tell me otherwise.”
David stared up at the ceiling, looking at nothing but keen to avoid Melissa’s eyes. “There’s a lot in there at the moment. That doesn’t mean I can trust it all, and neither should you.”
“What other choice do I have? Check myself in at the psych ward, tell them I’ve gone nuts?”
David closed his eyes, shook his head. He wished Melissa would go away. The more he spoke, the more his own bent logic grated on his ears. “Nothing like that. Just that we shouldn’t cling to any delusions—”
“Cling? You think I like thinking this shit? You think it feels good to come in here and talk about what happened to Dan? To believe—no, fuck believe, to know—that what ate him was a, a . . . ” The word dangled from her lips, unsaid, before climbing into her mouth and down her throat, where its intrusion nearly choked her.
“So don’t think about it. Maybe some things are best if you just let them be.”
She sat in the visitor’s chair, one leg crossed over the other. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Look, if we can’t even admit the truth of what we saw to ourselves, the next person who dies, we’ll have their blood on our hands. I can’t just sit—”
David silenced her with a raised hand. Someone was coming into the room. She was early twenties, Middle Eastern extraction, no scrubs, and dressed too casually to be hospital staff. He placed her as second-generation Canadian, at least by the way she dressed—low-rise jeans and a red V-neck top—and the measure of her stride. Her voice confirmed it: soft, slightly nasal, and devoid of the rounded inflection of accented English.
“Excuse me, are you Detective Moore?”
Melissa answered before David got the chance. “Excuse me, kid, this is a closed ward. You can’t just wander in here uninvited. I’d turn around now before you find yourself under arrest.”
The girl looked back and forth between the two of them, her face betraying the shocked delight of an unexpected brush with celebrity. “You’re Officer Myers, right?”
Myers didn’t appear to find this attention the least bit amusing. She bristled, her stoic cop stare hardening her features like a fast-set cement mask. “You got a hearing problem? I don’t intend to repeat myself.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but I need to talk to you about what happened last night. Both of you.”
Melissa grabbed the girl’s wrist. The girl, obviously unused to the less pleasant side of the law, tried to jerk back. Melissa clamped down harder, spinning the girl halfway around and bringing her arm up behind her back.
“No, I’m sorry. I’ve had a long day already and I really don’t need to be dealing with this shit. I’m going to walk you to the hallway now. You give me any trouble, this is going to get a lot less pleasant for you, in the short and long term. University kids can get busted just like anyone else.”
“Melissa,” David said. “It’s okay—”
“It’s definitely not okay. Visiting hours are for family and invited guests only. That means miss nosey here snuck past reception.”
“I don’t think that’s an arrestable offence.”
“Like I need more paperwork. No, no arrest, but it is enough to throw her out on her can.”
“Look,” the girl said. “I’m not trying to upset you guys, but it’s very important I talk to you—”
“You’re not good at instructions, are you?”
“It was a werewolf, wasn’t it?”
Melissa froze. David didn’t think he’d even seen someone do it more literally. Every muscle and tendon seized; even her breath seemed to clot in her throat.
“You can’t tell anyone, I know that. But it was, right? That’s what attacked you?”
“Is this some sort of joke?” Melissa growled, but it was too late. Her composure was laudable, but the girl had landed a perfect sucker punch. There was no smooth recovery possible. Realising her brief advantage, the girl went on.
“I know you feel crazy. I feel the same way. I saw it too. And I know who it is.”
Melissa glanced over at David, lost for words. He gave a single nod, and she let the girl go. The girl took a couple of steps away from Melissa, her fingers kneading her kinked shoulder.
“Sit down,” David said. “I think the three of us should talk.”