Point Pleasant (42 page)

“So we’re cut off?”

“We seem to be. I sent out a few officers to set up blockades, but no one’s out on the roads. Curfew and all.”

“I guess it’s safe to say the festival’s been called off,” Ben said after a moment, and a wave of disorientation washed over him.

“Understatement,” Nicholas said, huffing out a mirthless laugh.

“I don’t know what we do now.”

“If Raziel’s free, does that mean the other one is too?” Nicholas asked.

“Maybe. Probably.”

“So neither one of them has any incentive to stay. Maybe they’ll both just move on.”

“Raziel still has to get his grace back.”

“Well, he can get it himself,” Nicholas replied. “You’re done. This is over. I’ll make a deputy take me up to the factory tomorrow and drive your car back. We’re not going there again after that.”

“Shit, my car’s still up there?”

“I had other concerns, Ben.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Ben whispered when he caught the flash of desperation in Nicholas’ eyes.

“I’ve got to go check on the others,” Nicholas said. “We can’t get any of the other officers to respond, on-duty or otherwise. The fucking radios are fried. Goddamn storm.”

Ben put his hand over Nicholas’ to still him before he rose to his feet. “No, I mean it, Nic. I’m sorry. I was a dick earlier.”

“Yeah, you were,” Nicholas said with a frown. “But so was I. It’s been a hard day, Ben.”

Ben lowered his head and thought of the cindering ruin of the Gazette and Grant Harper’s vacant stare before he blew his brains out. “I know,” he uttered in a soft, hushed voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Nicholas said, standing. “Just hang out here for a while. I’ll get the status on my officers and take you home. You need to rest.”

Nicholas strode out of the room, and Ben found himself alone. He peered down at his torso and saw his clothes were caked in mud. The memory of the thing on the edge of the forest made Ben jerk upright into a sitting position, and his head swam. For a moment, he was certain he would retch, but he squeezed his eyes shut until the sensation faded.

Ben fumbled with the bottle of water Sarah had given him. He managed to untwist the lid and took a tentative sip but swallowing the cool liquid was a difficult task and he set the bottle beside the box of Kleenex.

Thunder rumbled outside, and Ben registered the uneasy silence that fell over the building that had bustled with busy with officers and ringing phones only a few nights prior. He listened closer and could hear the sound of rain as it beat against the roof.

A familiar vibration tingled against his side, and Ben reached into his coat pocket for his phone. The screen was cracked, but the phone still seemed to be functional. The voicemail icon read: ‘
6 New Messages
.’

The first message was from Nicholas.

“
Ben fucking Wisehart,
” the recording started, and Ben flinched at the anger in the other man’s voice. “
Who the fuck do you think you are just driving away from me like that? From
me
? Turn around. Right now. Or I swear I will throw you back in lockup when I find you.
”

The message ended, and Ben glanced toward the empty doorway. Guilt soaked through him like the downpour outside.

The next message was also from Nicholas, who sounded less angry and more frantic. “
Ben, listen to me, just come back. I’ll go with you. Just don’t go alone. Call me back.
”

The third message was Nicholas again. “
Ben, I’m at the factory, but I don’t see your car. Where are you? I’ll—
” Two gunshots rang in the background. Ben remembered that he had shot Azazel twice. The recording died out with a curse from Nicholas.

When the following message played, it was accompanied by a familiar sizzle of static.

“
Ben Wisehart
,” said Raziel in his strange, shifting tone. “
Thank you
.”

There was a pause, and Ben thought the message was over, but Raziel continued.

“
Azazel is displeased. He knows what we mean to do and will be ready for us. I will call again when you have rested. We will proceed with a new plan
.”

Ben’s brow furrowed as the recording ended. Nicholas insistence that Raziel finish the rest of the ordeal by himself was probably not misguided, but Ben’s thoughts trailed off when he heard Kate’s voice.

“
Benji. Listen, I just had a weird feeling like something’s wrong. Call me back. I’m thinking of flying out tonight.
”

“Fuck,” Ben whispered and then played the final message.

“
Ben, it’s me again. I got a flight, I’m in a cab heading over to LaGuardia now. I don’t know why, I just have this really bad feeling, and you’re not returning my calls. You can laugh at me when I get there, but I’m just worried, little brother. It’s like something—
”

There was a clanging crash from the other side of the line, and Ben wanted to scream when he heard Kate shriek. The recording ended.

“
End of messages
,” said the robotic woman’s disinterested voice.

Ben bolted to his feet, careless of the wave of nausea that crashed through him at the abrupt movement. He stumbled forward, dialing Kate’s cell phone number off by memory even though it was stored in his phone’s list of contacts. His hands shook with something akin to violence as he held up the phone and heard the dial tone in his ear.

Kate’s cell went to voicemail.

It called twice
, Ben reminded himself. Raziel had called twice. Ben had assumed the second call had been meant for something that had already happened, something he had already experienced in town. What if the second call had been meant to warn him about Kate?

Ben hung up. His fingers raced across the screen’s keypad to redial the number.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered. “Pick up, goddamnit.”

The responding monotony of the dial tone only increased Ben’s desire to yell.

He strode to the doorway and peered out. The hallway was empty. The phone rang four times and went to voicemail once more.

Nicholas’ earlier question replayed in Ben’s head. If Raziel was free, did that mean Azazel was also no longer restricted to Point Pleasant?

Ben hunched over his phone as he scrolled through his bank of phone numbers until he found the one he needed. ‘Katie - Home.’ He jabbed at the dial button and within two rings, his sister answered.

“Hello?”

“Katie? Kate! It’s Ben.”

“Ben, what’s wrong?”

“Kate!” Ben cried out, sagging in relief.

“You okay, Ben?”

“I thought—I thought you were in an accident. I had this message on my phone—”

“I’m fine, Ben,” Kate assured. “I’m just at home. Trying to finish off this deposition so that I can fly out on Wednesday. What message?”

Ben scrubbed a hand over his jaw and took a moment to just breathe. “You know, it must have been the wrong number.”

Kate was quiet. “Yeah, must have been. I’m fine, Ben. Are
you
?”

“I’m great, Katie. I’m fine if you’re fine,” Ben said, and he laughed with what felt like hysteria. He could practically hear Kate’s frown through the phone line.

“Are you sure? You sound really fucking weird right now, Benji. Are you—are you really doing okay? Have you been drinking?”

“Yes, absolutely. I mean, no, I haven’t been drinking. But I’m fine. You get back to work. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll send you my flight details tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye, Katie.”

“Bye, Ben.” Kate sounded uneasy, but the connection ended after a few seconds.

Ben doubled over and put his hands on his knees to brace himself. He pulled in another deep breath, pocketed his phone, and straightened to walk to the doorway.

The hallway was still empty, and Ben frowned. He turned left and headed down the long corridor, pausing only for a moment to gain his bearings when the passage split. He opted to go right and found himself in the main office at the front of the station.

Astrid and Sarah were hunched over a desk. The former fiddled with the dials on her handheld while the latter tapped at the screen of her cell phone.

“I can’t even get a signal,” Sarah said. “I don’t understand.”

“Radio’s just static,” Astrid said, and she clipped the radio onto her duty belt.

“Ben,” Sarah said when she noticed him. “You’re supposed to be lying down.”

“I’m okay,” he said. “I have a signal.” He pulled out his phone as if to prove the point, and Sarah closed the distance between them.

“I really need to call home,” she said. “I told the babysitter Carl and me would be back ten minutes ago. She’s sweet, but she gets antsy when I’m late. And with the storm—”

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” Astrid said. “It’s just a little rain, the kids are probably asleep, and Amy won’t complain about the extra cash.”

Ben swiped across his touchscreen while they spoke, but the signal bars in the top right were empty. “Shit,” he said. “I just made a call in the back. Maybe there’s interference up here?”

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but Nicholas and Daniel hurdled through the front doors. The collars of their drenched jackets were turned up, though this had done little to shield their faces from the rain.

Nicholas had Tucker’s spare Remington in his right hand. He spotted Ben and glowered. “You’re not supposed to be up.”

Astrid cleared her throat. “He’s fine, boss. Trying to help Sarah check on the kids.”

“Still no luck with the phone lines?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Sarah said, and frown lines marred the youthful set of her face.

“Where’s Majors?” Nicholas asked.

“He’s in surveillance. Thought maybe he could spot some of the patrol cars to get a general 10-20.”

“That’s smart. I’ll go check on him,” Nicholas said. “C’mon, Ben. You’re going back to the interview room.”

“I’m fine, Nic.”

Nicholas strode closer, slid a hand into the crook of Ben’s left arm, and tugged him along. Ben frowned as he followed, but he did not miss the wide-eyed smirk Astrid sent to Sarah.

When they were out of earshot, Ben pulled out of Nicholas’ grasp. “I don’t need to lie down, so please stop.”

“Ben,” Nicholas said, rounding a corner. “I have enough to deal with right now without worrying you’re going to keel over again.”

“I’m fine,” Ben repeated with a note of exasperation. “What’s happening?”

“We’ve got eight units out on the roads, but we can’t get in touch with any of them. No one’s been on Main Street for the last half hour, and at least two of them should have been back at the station by now.”

“Maybe they’re busy.”

“Maybe,” Nicholas said and paused outside an unmarked door. “Let me just check in with Majors, then I’ll walk you back.”

“Nic,” Ben said, huffing out a breath.

Nicholas rolled his eyes and adjusted his hold on the Remington’s stock so that he could reach for the door handle.

Inside the cramped room, the deputy who had processed Ben’s booking three nights prior was perched on the edge of a desk chair. There was a plate of double-sided glass in the wall behind him. Ben knew that there was most likely an interrogation room on the other side. He imagined it featured a gray table and two uncomfortable chairs, one of which was used in alternating shifts by two officers who would stride in and out, each adopting their own version of the good-cop, bad-cop dynamic to disorient the guilty into spilling all their sins.

The wall to the left was lined with six small black-and-white screens, each showing different views of the town. Majors worked with one of the three computers in front of him. His attention darted between the keyboard and the surveillance footage.

“Anything?” Nicholas asked.

Majors shook his head. In the blue glow of the computer monitors, the creased wrinkles on his furrowed brow stood out like the cracks in the concrete of a dark sidewalk beneath a neon sign. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I’ve been checking all over town for the last ten minutes. Haven’t seen a damn soul on the cameras until you and Ford ran out front a few minutes ago.”

“No one at all?”

“Not us, not anyone from town. Haven’t even seen a patrol car
parked
anywhere.”

Majors changed the views once more, and the screens brought up Main Street. There was a grainy image of Duvall’s, the alley that led to The Point, and even a shot of the court house’s front steps. The deputy’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he entered a command, and the views changed again. The timestamps on each were set back an hour to play recorded footage.

“And look, there’s you coming in,” Majors said, pointing at one of the screens that featured Nicholas’ cruiser as it sped down Main Street. “But there’s been nobody else since the storm started.”

“Fuck,” Nicholas said. “I’ll go out with Thomas in a minute. Drive around until we find someone.”

“Maybe they all went home. It’s been a fuck of a day. And with all the talk about the…” Majors trailed off as he leaned back in his chair and noticed Ben for the first time. “Er, the situation.”

“We’re a bit past that, Majors,” Nicholas said.

Majors offered a civil nod to Ben when he spun around in his chair to face them. “Well, I’m just saying. There was a lot of talk about people leaving town today. And it wasn’t just from the civvies.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nicholas sighed, scrubbing his free hand through his wet hair.

Ben kept his eyes on the screens. There was movement in one of the frames, and Ben narrowed his eyes.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the footage.

“What’s what?” Majors asked, swiveling back to the monitors.

“Top right,” Ben said. “Go back a few seconds.”

Majors clicked the mouse and tracked back about twenty seconds. The recorded frames from almost an hour prior replayed. Majors squinted at the screen. “The fuck?”

Nicholas stole closer, and Ben edged into the room with him as Majors set the frames to loop.

The exterior of the Sheriff’s Department was a gray haze beneath the curtain of rain. Lightning crackled out of shot, and the parking lot out front was illuminated for a brief but horrible span of five seconds to reveal a tall, lank shape in the shadows to the right of the steps that led up to the main entrance. When the lightning faded, the shape seemed to melt into the darkness.