Adermoor Cove: Sanctuary - 5. Chapter 4

Lane stood in the audio room, watching Carlos and the stranger through the glass. The stranger, the man who had gone through great lengths to try to kill him, sat with his hands handcuffed. Nichols stood in the corner of the room as an extra precaution; he was wearing a new pair of pants.

The stranger blinked, watched Carlos, but said nothing. Carlos was the one who did all the talking. It was quite clear the stranger had no desire to answer any questions asked of him. He still had blood on his face, barely seemed to notice it was there. This shift in behavior, or rather the lack of it, puzzled Lane greatly. Before he had been erratic. In distress.

Carlos isn't going to get anywhere with him. He's just spinning his wheels, wasting time.

For the past half hour, Lane had been trying to recall if he'd seen the stranger before. Maybe at The Rainbow Beret, watching him and Lane hadn't noticed.

No, he decided. I would have noticed.

On the other side, Carlos sighed. His shoulders rose, then fell. A sign of resignation and defeat. "I guess we'll just take you back to your cell and let you stew on things a bit," he said. His voice crackled as it filtered through the speakers. "But I want to be clear about something. If you think you have rights, you don't You're on my turf. Here in Adermoor Cove we have our own way of doing things. So I suggest you cooperate."

Carlos scooted his chair back, got to his feet.

Lane turned away from the glass. He couldn't watch anymore. He kept thinking about all the things the stranger had said to him back at the lighthouse. About Charlie. About Brendan. It seemed things were finally starting to catch up to him.

And this time I don't think I'll be able to escape it.

The door opened and Carlos came in. He looked tired. Lane felt tired too. Things had been rough for the both of them.

They looked at each other. Neither knew what to say or how to wrap their minds around the situation.

"I can't figure out who he is," said Carlos. He ran his fingers thoughtfully over the stubble along his jaw; the sound reminded Lane of sandpaper rubbing together. "He won't say who he is. He has a bunch of ID's and passports on him."

Just like me, Lane thought. Not too long ago he had sat in the same seat the stranger was sitting in, being questioned by Carlos and his father.

"Now what?"

Carlos sighed. "I don't know. Put him in a hole and throw away the key? Or I could take him into the woods, put a bullet in the back of his skull, and toss him in the ocean. No one would know he's been here. One thing I know for sure is that I'm not giving him you."

"Maybe you should," Lane said before he could stop himself.

Carlos looked at him as if Lane had gone completely insane. "What are you talking about?"

"If he won't talk to you then maybe he'll talk to me. This mess wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me." Charlie and Brendan's faces flashed before Lane's eyes, as well as the face of his father. And Enzo. The list was growing longer. Everywhere he went, Lane started one fire after another and it was always up to someone else to put it out.

Carlos shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't think that's a good idea. Let the cops handle it, Lane." His face softened. "I'll call Moira. She can keep you company."

"I don't want company!" Lane shouted before he could stop himself. "I just want everyone to get the fuck away from me before someone else dies!"

Carlos reached for Lane, to try and comfort him most likely, but Lane didn’t want to be comforted. The guilt he felt was eating him alive. I didn’t even give Charlie a proper burial. I just dug a hole and threw him in.

He turned away from Carlos and charged into the interrogation room where the stranger still sat calmly, as if there wasn’t anything wrong with the world.Carlos stopped in the doorway and froze. Lane flashed him a dirty look and sat down across from the stranger. My turn. He turned his focus to the stranger, forced himself to take a deep breath. To calm down.

“You want me,” said Lane, “here I am. If you won’t answer their questions then maybe you’ll answer mine. You got a name?”

“Bill,” the man said simply.

“Bill. Well you already know who I am, obviously. Would you mind telling me why you want to kill me so bad?”

“It’s nothing personal,” said Bill.

Nothing personal? How was trying to kill someone not personal? It didn’t matter. What mattered was finding out why. “Back at the lighthouse you said something about saving your daughter. Is she in danger?”

Bill nodded slowly.

“From who?”

“From you.”

Lane shook his head. “How?”

Bill nodded at Carlos who was still standing in the doorway, watching everything. “You should really convince your cop friend there to let me go. If I’m missing for too long, my boss will come looking for me. If he comes here and finds out you guys killed me, it won’t be pretty. He’s not a man you want to fuck with.”

“Who is your boss?” Lane asked.

“A very powerful man. He’s very interested in what we found at your cabin, and at the bar in Denver. We excavated your boyfriend’s body...”

Lane felt his blood run cold. “What did you to his body…?”

Bill shrugged carelessly. “Fuck if I know. I just do what the boss tells me to do and let him do the rest. In the end none of it matters. I’ve seen what you do to the world. If you live my daughter gets infected. Everyone gets infected.”

“No, you’ve got it wrong. The infection...the darkness...it comes from this place. I’m trying to figure out how to stop it.”

Carlos came to Lane’s side. “There’s no use in trying to reason with him. He’s clearly nuts. Let’s throw him in one of the cells until we can figure out what to do with him.”

Lane nodded, defeated. Cynthia and Devin came into the interrogation room to escort Bill to his cell. Lane wondered if a cell would be enough to hold Bill.

“Let’s go to my place,” Carlos said. His voice sounded far away, lost in the background. “We’re beat. We both need rest. There’s nothing we can do for now.” He was leading Lane out of the room. Lane didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore. Right now sleep sounded really good.

…

The cell they put him was small, with a sink and tub. The bed was hard, but it felt good to lay down. Bill thought he might actually be able to get some sleep for the first time in days. Sleep would be good, if nothing else. He could worry about his current predicament later when he woke up.

Meeting Lane Hardy had been a curious thing; the man was small but tough. Bill hadn’t expected the little shit to come up behind him and knock him out like that. I’m losing my touch. But there was also another problem: Bill didn’t know what to think. He doubted himself. He’d been doubting himself for a while, but now it was worse than ever.

You’ve got it wrong. The infection...the darkness...it comes from this place. I’m trying to figure out how to stop it.

“Don’t believe him...It’s not the truth...”

Bill opened his eyes. His daughter stood at the end of the cell, in front of the barred door. Black fluid dripped from the corners of her eyes and nostrils. Her face was pale as snow. There was a mournful shroud of sadness all around her.

Bill sat up and settled against the wall. The wall was real, solid. He could feel the grooves in the brick. Savannah had led him here, to this place. To Adermoor Cove. To Lane Hardy. He’d dreamed of what would happen if the infection spread...the wolf. He knew it had to be stopped. But he also knew in the back of his mind that the Savannah standing before him wasn’t the real Savannah.

“Who are you?” His voice shook uncontrollably.

"What are you?"

Savannah giggled. The sound was girlish, almost innocent, but something about the sound sent fresh chills up Bill's spine. There was something malicious hiding in the depths of her coal black eyes. It seemed that he had shattered the illusion, revealed her to be what she truly was. "I am the darkness, the eater of hearts, the eater of light...After years of being submerged in the bowels of the earth...in my prison…I rise...and when I am truly free I will devour everything."

Her voice was not the voice of a little girl anymore, but deep, beyond anything human vocal cords should be capable of. Darkness radiated from her, spreading across the floor in tendrils, along the ceiling and walls, creeping towards Bill. He yelped and ran past her to the bars. One of the officers, the female that had taken him from the interrogation room, was pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Help me!” he cried. “Please, you have to help me! The darkness, it’s spreading!”

The officer stared at him with wide eyes. The styrofoam cup fell from her hands onto the floor; hot liquid spilled across the carpet. She was looking at him but not at Savannah because, he realized, she couldn’t see her or what was happening in the cell.

He turned around. Savannah wasn’t there. The cell was empty. Everything was okay.

No, nothing’s okay. Something’s happening to me but I don’t know what it is.

…

Carlos’s fingers felt warm against his skin...and familiar. They hadn’t known each other long, at least not physically. Less than two months. But in a lot of ways Lane felt he’d known Carlos longer. They’d been through so much together, more than most people go through in a lifetime.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breathing ragged. Lane rolled away on his stomach. He tried to keep his mind in the moment, enjoying this pleasurable experience, but his mind kept tugging him into the past. Charlie and Brendan. And here he was laying in bed with another man who kept chasing after him even as Lane tried to push him away.

Carlos was talking, running his fingers through his hair. “Where are you at right now? Tell me.”

I don’t want to talk about it, Lane knew he should say. But even though he knew the best thing he could do to keep Carlos safe would be to get away from him, the thought of being alone was not just frightening but unbearable. In this regard Lane knew he had always been selfish; it was in this way he’d gotten Charlie and Brendan killed.

Lane forced himself to face Carlos, to face the truth and speak it out loud. “Being with me is dangerous. You know that, right?”

Carlos kissed his cheek. “It’s this town that’s dangerous, not you.”

“Is this worth it?” To emphasize his point, Lane put his hand on Carlos’s chest. “The constant danger. The fear.”

“Yes. It’s worth it for every damned second I get to be with you.”

“It scares me. Not just the darkness, but the thought of being alone.” From where he was laying, underneath Carlos’s curtains, Lane had a view of the window. He could see the pale glimmer of snow against the black night sky. But with Carlos’s body up against his own he felt perfectly warm and safe. He didn’t want to part from that feeling.

“But you’re not alone.” Carlos said gently, his voice full of understanding and love. “I know sometimes you think being alone is what’s best for everyone else, that it’s going to keep everyone safe. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: This town needs you. And you’re not alone. There are people here who care about you? I’m one of them.”

Lane nuzzled up against Carlos. “I care about you.” He closed his eyes, let his breathing become more even. He felt Carlos shift in the bed. It wasn’t long before the sheriff of Adermoor Cove was asleep.

Ten minutes passed before Lane made his decision. He knew the smarter thing would be to stay in bed, where it was safer. What he was doing was stupid and certainly dangerous. There was no telling if he was coming back, if he would ever see Carlos was again.Which was why he had to make sure they shared one last passionate moment together.

He crawled out of bed quietly and slid on his clothes. He forced himself not to look back at Carlos - one glance was all it would take for his will to dissolve. In the kitchen he found a Post-It note, scrawled a message on it, and stuck it on the table.

Outside the snow was falling steadily, coating everything like cold confectioner’s sugar. Except for the wind blowing through the trees, the night was completely still. His car sat in the driveway next to Carlos’s. Tonight would have been the perfect night to sit by the fire and drink hot cocoa - something normal people did. But when has my life ever been normal? Lane thought. Maybe if he made it back he would have a chance to find out what a normal life was like.

He scraped off as much snow as he could with the hood of his coat and got in the car. The engine sputtered into life when he turned on the ignition. He waited - hoped - for Carlos to come running out, to try and stop him, but Carlos was out for the count. Good, let him sleep. It’s better if I’m gone before he wakes up, Lane thought.

…

When Carlos woke up the other side of the bed was empty. Lane was gone.

Something didn’t feel right. He sat up. “Lane?” he called. The sound of his own voice made the silence more noticable. He could almost feel it seeping under his skin. He climbed out of bed and wandered through the house naked. Lane was nowhere to be seen.

He found a Post-It note on the kitchen table with a short note scrawled across the front in Lane’s handwriting: After Charlie died I thought I’d never find love again - until I met you. I’m sorry but I have to do this. Don’t follow me.

Carlos swore. Goddammit Lane! He ran into the bedroom and pulled his clothes on as quickly as he could.