by Lazuli
Part 10 ~ Not Okay
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Ray gave a sigh of
relief as he came off the phone. “The local precincts
back home know not to pick up the wolf, and someone’s gone out to take down the
lost dog flyers.” “What lost dog
flyers?” “I’ve been trying to
find Dief, I thought maybe he’d run off when you were in that accident, and
someone might spot him.” “It never occurred
to me to tell you.” “It hasn’t occurred
to you to tell me a lot of things.” “I know.” And that was it,
nothing more offered to quell Ray’s inquisitive mind, and Ben might look
somewhat embarrassed by his reticence but it was not enough to move the
conversation on. Clearing up the
breakfast dishes, Ray saw Ben jump before he himself registered a tap on the
front door. He checked his watch. “That’ll be the
mail.” “I’ll wait…” Ben gestured to the living room and wheeled
himself away. Pete was standing at
the door with a couple of letters in his hand, and Ray thanked him, letting him
go on his way. Throwing the mail onto
the counter as he returned to the kitchen, his eye was caught by a splash of
colour poking out from beneath the envelopes.
It was a postcard with a local view.
Ray acknowledged the strangeness before turning it over, immediately
noticing that there was no stamp, so it hadn’t actually been mailed, and the
card was addressed to Benton Frazer. The
wrong spelling hit a nerve; despite Ray mispronouncing Ben’s surname ever since
he’d known him, he resented this error with a passion. And as for the message… Ben was back in the
doorway, watching with nervous curiosity as if he instinctively knew something
was wrong. There was no way that Ray
could avoid handing the card over. Ben
took the card and stared at the message.
It simply said, ‘Ethan.’ The effect was
catastrophic: the colour drained from Ben’s face, and he was immediately
shaking so hard it was moving the chair.
Gasping to catch his breath, he clutched his chest as if he was having a
heart attack and, with a strangled groan, his eyes rolled back and he passed
clean out. It was all so rapid
and shocking that Ray hadn’t had a chance to react, but now he was at Ben’s
side, checking his pulse with one hand and panicking at the frightening rate
his heart was beating, wrangling his phone from his back pocket with the other
hand and dialling 911. … Ray was sitting outside
Ben’s hospital room with his head in his hands when a doctor approached and
waited to be acknowledged. Slowly
looking up, Ray was met with a businesslike smile, and an introduction. Doctor Anderson, and he was here to tell Ray
that Ben was stable, sedated, and no, it wasn’t a cardiac arrest, however it
presented. There was nothing to worry
about beyond what Ray already knew, Doctor Anderson established. This was what the PTSD was doing to Ben, and
had he tried consulting a psychiatrist? All the information
was taken in, but Ray was consumed by that fact that this doctor had exactly
the kind of appearance Ben most feared. Male,
tall, well-built, white. “When can I take him
home?” he asked abruptly. “Tomorrow,” replied
the doctor, unfazed by Ray’s manner. “Just to be safe.” Ray nodded, and the
doctor left him to his thoughts. His
somewhat murderous thoughts. At this
moment the idea of channelling Armando Langoustini at his most brutal was
almost a joy. Despite everything Ray had
learnt about himself during his Las Vegas time, he was good at making
exceptions to his own rules, and he was looking forward to coming face to face,
or perhaps more honestly, gun to face with Ethan. When he was finally
allowed into Ben’s room, Ray was on tenterhooks, not knowing what to expect. But there was Ben, sleepy and calm, looking
like a name on a postcard hadn’t driven him to the verge of a heart attack. “Hey, Benny,” Ray
said softly as he came to Ben’s side. A few strands of
Ben’s hair were out of place and, without thinking, Ray reached over and
smoothed them down. His hand remained
there, gently stroking, a forbidden touch so full of unspoken affection it made
him ache to deny it. “Ray?” Ray dropped his hand
to Ben’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m here. You’re okay.” Ben’s eyes opened,
and they were glazed with tears. “I’m not okay.” Ben’s emotion almost
broke Ray, because he was powerless to make this better and there was nothing
more he wanted to do in this world. “You will be. What if we fetch Diefenbaker and go away, far
away?” “He’ll find us.” “Ethan,” Ray risked. “Yes.” “And who’s Ethan?” Ben grabbed at Ray’s
hands for comfort before he could say the words: “The killer.” … The killer. That was all Ray had managed
to get from Ben before he disappeared inside himself again, back to the
behaviour he’d adopted at the IRF when all he could do for consolation was to
hide away and deny the outside world. When
all he could do to feel safe was listen. The killer. And one name. Ray called Hazel and told her what was
happening, and she promised she’d authorise a search of any and all national
crime databases in case anything jumped out; they agreed the attempt to pin any
individual down with so little information was unlikely to succeed, but it
wouldn’t stop her trying on Ray’s – Ben’s
– behalf. ‘Ethan’, a potential killer
but not necessarily one with a record, and very likely Canadian as Ray assumed
that was where it had all started. Ray had a similar
conversation with Lieutenant Welsh, who was concerned and ready to act when
they returned to Chicago. He was in a
better position than Hazel to pursue the Canadian angle, as he already had
contacts there thanks to Ben’s involvement with his precinct, and how several
cases had spilled over the border. Ray then spoke to Max,
tip-toeing around Ben’s condition and being surprised that Max was pretty much
up to speed, Ben having been dispassionately forthright about his problems. If Ray trusted Max, then Ben trusted Max. It was a relief for Ray to offload his
distress, and there was an equal amount of satisfaction to be gained from Max’s
anger. Shirley, Max vouched, would be
damned well furious, and she didn’t even know Ben yet! It made Ray smile, and wish it made him feel
less alone. “Here’s an idea,”
Max suggested. “Come and stay with us when Ben’s out of the hospital.” “We can’t. He has a killer on his tail and the postcard
wasn’t franked, so…” “This guy’s here. I tell ya, you’re still invited. I can send Shirl and the kids away to her
mom’s, and we can set this fucker up. Sounds
like he’ll find us.” “Can’t risk it.” “But…” “No. Can’t risk it.” When Doctor Anderson
came back, Ray barred his way into Ben’s room. “Mr Vecchio?” “Detective Vecchio,” Ray corrected. “Advocate
for Constable Fraser.” “Is there a
problem?” “Yes, you.” The man looked
justifiably confused. “I’m sorry?” “Me too, but you’re
going to trigger Constable Fraser. It’s
nothing personal, it’s just the way you look.
You fit the physical profile of the person who caused the PTSD.” Ray was prepared for
the doctor to be insulted, and readied himself with a dozen smart answers to
any comments he chose to make, but the man just flipped through Ben’s notes and
nodded sagely. “I’ll make a note
and hand over care to Doctor Venables. She’ll
be more suitable under the circumstances.
I’ll also…” he scribbled in the folder,”specify female staff only.” With a less
professional, but genuinely warmer smile Anderson left. Ray felt a bit unsettled, the adrenalin that
had built up ready for a confrontation having nowhere to go. He returned to Ben’s
side, laying a hand on his chest and not knowing if he was awake or being
blessed with a drugged and dreamless sleep. “You hear that,
Benny? That doctor won’t be back. I’ll be here all night, so…” The ‘nothing to
worry about’ died on Ray’s lips. Tomorrow
Ben would be out of the hospital and… Where
the hell did they go next? Safe house? Hazel could arrange one, and Ray suspected
that Lieutenant Welsh would also oblige, but that would be punishment for being
targeted, despite how much more secure they’d be. Still, the
information dam had been breached, and surely the drip would become a flow now. Ben would understand that, to keep them safe,
he had to tell Ray what had brought all this about. Wouldn’t he?
Or would he still be helpless in the grip of his trauma? Ray hoped the amount
of sedative in Ben’s system would keep him calm enough to share the story
without panicking or passing out. Speculation was
pointless; all Ray could do now was wait until tomorrow. … Ray creaked awake
the next morning, having fallen asleep with his head on his crossed arms on the
edge of Ben’s bed. There wasn’t a single
joint that wasn’t complaining about the position he’d been in for hours. Ben’s hand was tightly wrapped around his
wrist, having sought comfort at some point during the night and still reluctant
to let go, even as sunshine filled the room and did its best to disperse the
anxiety-laden gloom. Patting Ben’s hand
was enough to rouse him, Ray expecting the instant surge of alarm and being
ready to reassure Ben as he came fully awake.
It took longer than expected, but eventually Ben was aware of his
surroundings and seemed in control, even if he was refusing to let go of Ray’s
hand. “What’s happening?”
Ben asked in a whisper. “You’ll be
discharged this morning, and we’ll go back to the apartment.” “He knows where we
are.” “But he can’t get
in.” “The postcard…” “Was in the exterior
mail box. The lobby is restricted entry,
remember?” “That means
nothing.” “Does the fact that
Hazel is stationing an officer in the lobby while we’re there make you feel any
better?” Ben thought about
it; the look he gave Ray was a distinct no, but he couldn’t say it. “It will help.” “Well lied.” As Ray stood and
started to ease his hand away, Ben jerked, head to toes, face grimacing for
several seconds. Ray had noticed some
twitching in the past but this was extreme. “What was that?” Ray
asked urgently. “Do I get the doctor?” “Nerve pain,” Ben
explained. “It’s a back spasm. Nothing
new. It’s come and gone since the
accident.” Ray thought. “Is that why they
want to do more x-rays and another MRI back at the IRF?” “Possibly.” “And you didn’t
mention it?” “Most times I can
hide it. Usually I have more self
control. It’ll be the drugs, and…” Ben flinched again,
but the spasm seemed gentler this time. As
if things weren’t difficult enough; Ray’s mind was racing ahead. “We have to go back. If you need more treatment…” “It isn’t my main
concern.” “But if you’re in
pain…” “Seldom. You haven’t noticed until now.” “I’ve seen you get
twitchy before, but it didn’t seem to bother you.” “It doesn’t.” “You covering it up
doesn’t mean it’s okay.” Ben gave a
humourless smile. “Just one more thing
I haven’t told you. I’m sorry, Ray. I wouldn’t blame you if you’d had enough.” “No,” Ray protested.
“Bailing is not an option. We’re in this
together.” Ben withdrew his
hand and turned his head away. So Ray
took the hint, moving away from the bed, stretching as he went. “We can go to a safe
house,” he offered. “I don’t want to.” “What do you want?” There was silence
for several minutes as Ben considered his options. “We probably are
safer at your apartment for the moment, but that’s a problem in itself.” Ray met his words with a frown. “Didn’t we
already agree that the only way to draw him out is to go home?” “Where he has better
access to you.” “Yes.” “Well, that’s an
idea I hate.” “Not yet though. There some things I need to explain and I’d
rather do it at your apartment.” They were the words
Ray had needed to hear, and they filled him with dread. He tried not to show it, crossing back to Ben
and taking a firm hold of his hand. “Shall we get on
with it?” Ben nodded, taking a
deep breath as his expression filled with determination. He wasn’t going to let Ray down. … The ambulance
journey back to Ray’s had been without issue.
Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, no strangers were hanging about,
and it was reassuring to see a patrol car parked outside the building. Pete greeted them cheerfully, already on
first name terms with the cop keeping him company and quite unfazed when Ray
gave the briefest explanation of what was going on. Once inside the
apartment, Ray locked the door and wheeled Ben into the kitchen to prepare them
some drinks. He didn’t bother with food
as neither of them had an appetite, and they weren’t in the mood to pretend for
each other’s sake. Ben tried to be
discreet as he scanned the area trying to locate the postcard, but Ray noticed. “It’s been taken
away for fingerprinting.” There was something horribly
ominous about the moment when they were sat facing one another across the
dining table. Ray had a notepad to hand;
at the top of the first page he wrote his interviewee, date, and time. “Is this official?”
Ben asked. “I’m just making
notes. I want to make sure I get
everything straight.” There was an
extended pause, Ray expectant and Ben bewildered. Ray wondered how much of that was the after
effect of the sedatives, and how much was sheer fear of where they were headed. “I don’t know where
to start.” “You want me to
conduct an interview? Will it be easier
if it’s formal? Might also save some
time when we catch up with this guy.” Their eyes locked
and held. “Are you still going
to blow his fucking head off if I give you the nod?” Ray wasn’t sure what
he’d just heard. Unrecognisably cold and
measured, and that was the first time he’d ever heard Ben outwardly curse,
repeating Ray’s offer and seemingly fine with it. “I’m not going to
let you down,” Ray promised. A few frigid seconds
passed and Benny was back, resigned and gripping the arms of the chair, nodding
at Ray to begin his interview. “You took a leave of
absence from the Consulate five or so months ago.” “I did.” “Can you tell me
why?” Ben picked up his
mug and sipped his drink; his hands were already shaking. “I was approached by
a man who needed help locating his daughter.” “What’s his name?” “John Firesinger.” “Sounds like someone
from your neck of the woods.” “Yes.” “Did you know John
previously?” “No, but he knew my
father. Despite the passage of time he
didn’t know my father was dead, and when he went looking for him he was given
the news and told where to find me.” “His daughter’s
name?” Ben paused, staring
at the table. Ray already didn’t want to
know what Ben was seeing in his mind’s eye, going by the expression on his
face. “Sara. It was Sara.” “And when John
approached you…” “I can’t do this,”
Ben interrupted. “Or rather, not like this.
I’m going to go and lie down so I can’t run away, and… Talk. You
can make notes or not, but just let me talk.” Ray followed Ben
into the bedroom and helped him onto the bed, aware that if Ben found a chance
to cling on to a hand, or an arm, he struggled to let go. “What can I do to
make this easier?” “Be here with me,”
Ben suggested weakly. “But nothing will make it easier.” “Can I record this?” “No, because I never
want to hear it played back.” “But if you ever
need to testify…?” “I’ll find a way.” “We still have your
medication from the IRF. If you need
topping up…” “I can feel the
drugs from the hospital in my system. As
tempting as it is, I don’t think more would be safe.” Ray toed off his
shoes, discarded his jacket and, ignoring the waft of a body that had been up
all night and needed a shower, laid down beside Ben, taking his hand and holding
on tightly. “Whenever you’re
ready. If it gets too much…” “I know I have to do
this.” Ray gave Ben’s hand
another squeeze and fell silent. He
waited. And waited. Eventually, Ben began to talk. “John came to me
because he couldn’t get any help back in Canada. His region is very remote and, whether it’s a
case of insufficient resources, or blasé policing where the indigenous people
are concerned, when his daughter was abducted he was refused help. Told she’d run off for a better life. If John believed that he would have been
happy for her, despite missing her. But
he knew it wasn’t the case. “Sara had been… I have to say groomed, because anything other
that that risks sounding romantic. A
love smitten man rather than a calculated monster. “John knew this man
only as Dean. He was carefully
manipulative, only giving out information about himself when it was designed to
lure Sara into a relationship. At first
Sara was happy, and John was happy for her.
But as time moved on, Sara became withdrawn and troubled, although she
found it impossible to confide in her father to share her worries, or her
treatment at Dean’s hands. “When the abuse
became visible, with Sara needing to be hospitalised, she begged John not to go
to the police, or to take any action himself.
It was all a misunderstanding, she had provoked Dean, everything was her
fault.” “Textbook domestic
abuse and control,” Ray couldn’t help commenting. “Agreed. But John was afraid he would lose Sara
entirely as she was so under the spell of this man. He told Sara that he was always there for
her, and took a step back. And then it
happened again. But worse. This time he was determined to take action.” “Let me guess. That bastard snatched her.” “Sara disappeared,
and Dean was nowhere to be found. John
went to the police and his concerns were dismissed. His immediate friends were unable to help, so
he contacted everyone he knew, and was eventually put in touch with a support
network that specialised in this type of case, particularly where indigenous
people were concerned. It was through
this network that a sighting was made, and John was given vague coordinates of
where a couple that matched the description of Sara and Dean were last seen. “It was impossible
for him to pursue Sara alone, and he went to find my father, who he had known
for many years, albeit distantly, and had great respect for. As I said, when he found out my father was
dead, he was directed to me. “Once he’d told me
what had happened, I was happy to help him.
At that point it seemed to be nothing more than finding Sara and
removing her from Dean’s influence. Knowing
the size of the territory involved, and doubting it would be an easy job to
locate them, I took an indefinite leave of absence. I left Diefenbaker under the care of a
colleague at the Consulate. “John and I
travelled to the coordinates given by the support network and began our search
there. We were able to locate several
small towns and communities, and after several weeks met someone who was able
to give us more detailed information. We
found Sara and Dean in a remote cabin with wholly inadequate facilities, so
Sara was already suffering from hypothermia, and what appeared to be a severe
chest infection that had been left untreated for weeks.” “Bet he was fine
though.” “Certainly fit and
healthy enough to maintain his abuse of Sara, but she remained trauma-bonded to
him, and her father’s pleas for her to accompany him home, or at least to
secure medical help, fell on deaf ears. I
attempted to negotiate her release, but this man delighted in his power over
her, and she was mentally unable to go against his wishes. “Sara pleaded with
us to give her some time to persuade Dean to return home with her and her
father, and John agreed, despite my reservations.” “Next time you
turned up they were gone.” “Yes. And John was crippled by self-recrimination,
which made the next steps harder because his motivation waned. He was convinced his actions would result in
her death, and it took everything I could muster to make him continue the
search. After meeting Sara, there was no
way I could back down from this.” “It’s hard to stop
yourself once it becomes personal,” Ray agreed, and Ben squeezed his hand
again, as if in thanks for his understanding. “When John was ready
to carry on, we followed Sara’s trail, as far as we could deduce it. I’ll be able to provide coordinates later
when you show me a map, but for now, the only
way I can tell you where we were so that you can picture it is the
middle of nowhere, as unscientific as that is.
But truly the middle of nowhere. I
attempted to construct a rudimentary map in my mind as we went, but it became
harder as the terrain grew less remarkable, and we continued searching for
weeks, becoming more and more isolated. We
were on the verge of turning back because our supplies were running low, when
Dean began calling to us. “Because of the way
sound echoes in a snow-laden environment it was impossible to pinpoint his
position or direction, but it did allow us to attempt to communicate. John was desperate, offering whatever it took
to get his daughter back, but Dean’s reply was exactly as I expected. If John didn’t withdraw, Sara would pay for
his disobedience. John was still intent
on bargaining and, despite Dean’s early insistence that the law was not
involved, he told Dean that if he let Sara go, then I, as a Mountie, could
guarantee there would be no further pursuit of him.” “Oh, fuck,” Ray
groaned. “So the promise of
no police presence was now void, and although I tried to assure Dean that I was
only there unofficially as a family friend and experienced tracker, he sounded
delighted that the agreement had been broken, and was now free to act however
he chose as punishment. He told John
that he’d been warned, and once again disappeared.” Silence fell as Ben
withdrew into his thoughts; Ray leant up and tried to gauge whether they were
done for the time being. “Can I get you a
drink? Benny? You want a drink?” “Thank you,” came
the reply, without any outward signs of reengaging. Ray reluctantly
withdrew his hand and went to the kitchen, fetching bottles of water from the
fridge and muttering crossly to himself that he still hadn’t thought to buy
straws. Back in the bedroom he placed
the bottles on the night stand and waited.
Nothing. “Can I give you a
hand?” The effort Ben made
when it came to opening his eyes and returning to the here and now was visible. Ray ignored Ben’s difficulties and helped him
prop himself up long enough to drink, then allowed him to slump back before
returning to his place. Once Ray was
lying down, Ben’s hand was searching for his, grabbing and gripping tightly. A few deep breaths and he resumed his story. “It was a while
later when we finally located Sara. She’d— He had bound her and left her in a shelter
that—” Ben stopped for a moment,
struggling with his account, furiously shaking despite how firmly Ray was
holding on. Ben cleared his throat. “The
shelter was enough to keep her from freezing to death, but it offered no
protection from predators, and how she was bound prevented her from defending
herself.” Ray braced himself
as he presumed what was coming. But it
was worse. “She’d been
partially covered, but her face and hands were deliberately exposed. And this is what had been predated upon.” “You mean…” “Her… Sara’s face and fingers had been gnawed off. But…” Another
deep and ragged breath. “She was still alive.” “Oh my God, how?” Ben shook his head. “We had a sled with
us, something lightweight for carrying our provisions, and we were able to make
it comfortable for Sara, and headed back towards the nearest civilisation. “One night, when
John and I had both passed out from exhaustion, our camp was infiltrated. Our compasses, maps and personal belongings
were stolen, along with the majority of our ammunition.” “The majority but
not all? So… He left your guns?” “He was perversely
thrilled by the thought of a fair fight.
That’s what he called it. At
intervals he’d call out to us, telling us how much he’d enjoy killing us,
taunting John with what he’d allowed to happen to Sara. John believed Dean. Believed it was all his fault.” There was another
pause as Ben tried to cope with the memories, and what recounting them was
doing to trigger his PTSD. Ray could
only sympathise, edging slightly closer, letting Ben know he was present, even
as Ben’s mind was sucked away to the past. “As we tried to
escape from Dean, and his threats, we became lost. The sky was blank, starless, the landscape
featureless, and it was too easy to lose our bearings. “Sara died without
ever regaining consciousness. A blessing
under the circumstances. We attempted to
make a cairn for her, to protect her from foraging animals. If that’s still in place, perhaps it can be
found. Perhaps not. We were so lost. “Then, one day,
another voice was there. He made Dean
sound like an amateur. The depravity of
what he could conjure with a few words, torturing John and—” Ben came to an
abrupt halt, pulling Ray’s arm across his body as he fought to manage the
ferocious trembling and shuddering breaths. “Don’t tell me what
he said,” Ray told Ben,”basic facts, nothing to make this worse for you.” Ben let out a
tearful laugh and Ray understood: as if this could be any worse. “Dean just called
him brother. Brother. It was only at the end when he called him by
name.” “The end?” Ray
gently prompted, wanting to know the facts about this man they were now dealing
with and equally wanting to get this out in the open and finish it. “Not yet. We’re not there yet. We were out of food by now, and growing
weaker but still pressing on. Dean was
coming closer at every opportunity, leaving footprints or writing in the snow. He drew a heart and wrote Sara inside it. I thought John was going to die from grief
there and then. Dean came still closer
to enjoy John’s suffering, and I spotted him.
I finally spotted him, and went in pursuit. He was careless, too busy enjoying my clumsy
attempts to catch him to pay attention to the terrain. He disappeared into a crevasse and was badly injured. He screamed for help. I thought the brother would make a move to
rescue him, and that’s when I’d have a chance to restrain him, but I just sat
there alone, listening as Dean’s cries and weeping grew weaker and weaker. He finally called for Ethan. His brother.
When I imagined he was dead, and I was half frozen, I returned to where
I’d left John, but he was gone. That was
why Ethan hadn’t shown up for his brother.
He was abducting John. He’d gone
to the trouble of making a confusing number of crossed tracks, ensuring there
was no chance of detecting the correct path they’d taken. By then I was suffering from starvation and
exposure, too exhausted to go any further, and I expected to die that night,
but no. “Morning came and
there was a bundle of food by the fireplace.
Bread and meat. I did wonder if
it was poisoned but I didn’t care by then, and ate it. Ethan clearly wanted me to have strength for
his games.” “Games?” “He needed a smarter
prey.” “He—” “And I needed the
energy to run. I told him I wasn’t
prepared to play his games, so he chose to persuade me. I can still hear John’s screams, the agony in
them as he was tortured. Just to encourage me to play. What could I do?” “This was revenge
for his brother?” Ben thought back. “He seemed entirely
unmoved by Dean’s death.” “Then why?” “I got the
impression that he was just enjoying himself.” Ray shuddered, and
Ben carried on. “At first I tried to
move towards where I thought his voice was coming from, and the screaming,
hoping that I could find them and help John.
But Ethan was always one step ahead.
I actually respected his survival skills. His cunning.
Far beyond my abilities, under the circumstances. Whenever I rested in daylight, the screams
would begin. I tried to stay awake to
catch him, but inevitably I’d pass out at night and wake to a bundle of food,
I’d eat the snow to keep hydrated, and then I had the choice to make: look for
John or try for freedom. “After a few days of
what I imagine was considered a lacklustre performance, I woke to the food and
two of John’s fingers, rising from the snow.
The agony in John’s cries made more sense as, day by day, I came across
more of his body parts. Fingers, toes,
ears, then a foot… I suddenly realised
that I was being driven in a certain direction by what I was finding, so I made
a break for it, turning back on myself and ignoring his threats, and the pieces
of John’s body, and the gunshots. “Finally there was a
broken cry of ‘Ben, run!’. And I think
John was giving me permission to lose hope of ever finding him, and save
myself. I think that was when John was
killed. “Once I stopped
playing Ethan’s games he became furious, hounding me across the tundra until
one day I found myself face to face with the remains of John’s body. It was hacked to pieces, and—” Ben gasped and shook Ray urgently. “Bowl.” Ray raced from the
room and returned with the requested bowl, helping Ben lean up over it. “It was made plain,
with…there was… A carefully butchered
thigh, made it plain that the meat I’d been given to eat was Jo—” Ben groaned as his
body seized, trying to eject the little in his stomach. Heave after heave as Ray stood silently by,
wanting to comfort but knowing they were far beyond a hand hold or a tender
pat. Ray gave Ben a towel to wipe his
mouth, and Ben nodded in thanks. “That’s how it was
until I was nearly dead,” Ben murmured. “Day after day, that man hunting me
down like an animal and screaming at me, laughing as he told me what
he’d…helped himself to with Sara, with others, what he’d done to John, what
he’d made me participate in. I tried
every trick and device I knew to escape from him, and nothing worked. I was too weak, my body was failing. “I was finished. And finally I didn’t care.” Ben pushed the bowl
away and fell back, forearm across his eyes.
Placing the bowl on the night stand, Ray sat at Ben’s side, laying his
hands over Ben’s arm and stroking. He
felt the shudder as Ben fought back tears, and wished he’d let it go, let it
all out and begin the cleansing process.
In his mind’s eye he saw himself after Las Vegas, mourning the nameless
men that had offended Armando to the point his acolytes cold bloodedly
intervened. “Benny?” Ben sucked in a
breath. “Hunters found me. By some miracle I was still alive, and they
managed to get me to a town where my condition could be stabilised before I was
moved to a hospital. I don’t remember
any of this, but I was told later. My
rescue didn’t seem real. All that was
real was his voice in my head, and John’s agony. I was delirious for a while, I couldn’t tell
them my name, how I’d got to where I was found, nothing. And as I recovered I chose not to, feeling
safer being anonymous. I lay there, not
able to communicate, and just listening.
Always listening, because I didn’t know Ethan’s face, but I knew his
voice, and if he was there, if I heard his voice…I was going to kill him. Laughable, the state I was in, but I was
going to kill him.” Ben allowed Ray to
move the arm away from his face, gazing up with an expression so lost that it
broke down any inhibitions; Ray leant in and, as best as he could, clasped Ben
to him, whispering platitudes and condolences and wishing he’d come back from
the hell he was experiencing. The words
sunk in, and Ben whispered back, but he didn’t let go. When they’d both
regained some composure, Ben drank more water, and asked Ray to help him sit up
for the rest of the story. Ray hoped
that meant that it wasn’t going to get worse because he, let alone Ben, really
couldn’t manage anything worse right now.
But when Ben resumed his account, it was as if all the emotion had been
drained out of him. “One day I found an
envelope on my night stand. In it was
some money, and a key for a safety deposit box at Edmonton rail station. I got up, got dressed, walked out of the
hospital and hitchhiked all the way to Edmonton. The box contained all the personal belongings
that had been stolen from me. I took
them and came home, knowing that one day I’d have to tell this story but not
knowing where to start. For a while I
was convinced that I’d dreamt it all. It
was as if my own mind was trying to protect me, keeping it hazy. But eventually my memory cleared, and it was
too real to deny. I knew I had to tell
someone about John and Sara, but… It was
as if I’d been struck dumb with shock. A
reaction to the trauma, no doubt, but nothing I could rationalise at the time. “I collected
Diefenbaker from the Consulate but wasn’t able to tell anyone of my
experiences, let alone return to work. Perhaps
I should have forced myself to go back because, left to myself, there was
nothing to fill my mind other than what had happened. I couldn’t settle, I still felt hunted, and I
was hearing Ethan’s voice all of the time, wherever I was. “I started to grow
afraid for Diefenbaker, and that was when I told him to go away and keep safe. If Ethan would butcher a man without a
moment’s hesitation, he’d have no compunction about doing the same to a wolf. “So then I was
alone. And lost. He was everywhere. I needed help. I needed…
You, Ray. I needed you.” “Ah, Benny…” Ray
sympathised. “I kept reliving it
all, and I thought that… Maybe if you’d
been with us it would have been different.
If you’d been there, maybe we all could have saved Sara. And you and I could have saved John.” “What could I have
done that you didn’t? I’m a liability
out there, you know that. If you and her
father couldn’t save her…” “You’ve done it
before. After the plane crash.” “That was
thick-headed determination and pure luck, no skill involved.” “Perhaps. But that thought never went away. By then it was me I wanted you to save. I kept seeing you out of the corner of my
eye, although, of course, it wasn’t you.
But it had been you once before when it shouldn’t have been you, and
that gave me hope. Then, one day…” Ben’s voice trailed
off; he looked at Ray very pointedly. As
the message sank in, Ray closed his eyes and screamed internally. “Why did the Mountie
cross the road,” he whispered, understanding now and hating it. “I thought I saw you
on the far sidewalk, definitely you this time and, beyond that, I didn’t think. I just desperately wanted you with me.” Ben looked down at his legs, and across to
his chair. “I suppose it worked. Just
not as I intended.” He looked back at
Ray, confused. “Maybe I deserve this. Do
I deserve this?” Ray was already
furiously shaking his head. “Don’t you dare
think like that.” “But…” “You should be able
to walk but can’t walk, so that’s what? You
being punished? How the hell do you
deserve that?” “That monster is still out there, free. I let him get away. And… I
can’t cope with that.” Ray was growing more
aghast by the minute. “And now you’re
saying you deserve this because you didn’t get your man?” “Because a friend
who turned to me for help was tortured and murdered.” “You say that as if
you let it happen.” “Didn’t I?” “No!” “I feel as if I
killed John myself.” “Benny, no, stop it. You were lucky to get out of this alive. What else could you have done?” “Had you with me.” “You are blameless
in this, you are a victim,” Ray
stressed. “A victim of this freak and his brother, and a victim of what they
did to your mind.” “I—” Ben reached out a hand toward Ray then let it
drop. Ray snatched the hand up. “I
really thought it was you across the street.” “But you knew I
wasn’t in Chicago.” “You could have been
visiting.” “Think I would have
been visiting and not come to find you?” Ben gave a loose,
defeated shrug. “I don’t know.” “You didn’t know
then, maybe, but you know now. The
minute I heard you needed me I came running.”
Ray waited and Ben gave a shallow nod, like he knew the correct response
but didn’t really believe it. “I think that you seeing me everywhere,
hallucinating me, was your brain telling you to stay safe. It was a response to hearing that guy’s
voice, or thinking you heard it.” “I did hear it.” “Genuinely? ‘Cause we know the mind plays tricks.” “He followed me to
Chicago. He was stalking me…” “You would have
spotted him.” “Not necessarily. He’s an expert in survival, he’s used to
blending in, being invisible. I only saw
him once in Canada, and that was because he wanted me to.” “Would you know him
if you saw him again?” “Just his physical
attributes. But I didn’t need to see him
at the IRF. You’re forgetting that I
received a card from him, so I knew he was around. He wouldn’t have known where I was unless he
was somewhere in the vicinity.” “And stalking you. Okay. Did
you ever think you heard him there?” “I wasn’t sure.” “Did the card come
in the mail or was it hand delivered?” “I don’t know.” “Because the
postcard wasn’t mailed. If the card
wasn’t, maybe someone at the IRF will remember the guy who handed it in. Or maybe there’s CCTV.” “Once I received
that card I knew I’d never be safe again.
I can’t run, I can’t hide, there’s no escape from this. It’s my days, my nights…” Ben shook his head in despair. “My nights. The nightmares are horrendous.” “God, Benny, how
could they not be?” “Life is reflected
in my dreams. I’m always paralysed,
whether it’s mentally by fear, or physically by my circumstances. Then there’s you. And it’s always you.” “What am I doing?” “Walking away. Turning your back on me.” “But I wouldn’t do
that.” “Don’t you see, Ray? It’s exactly what you did. Once again real life is reflected in my
dreams. Although the context was
completely different, my mind doesn’t seem to care about that. You walked away.” Ray had the good
grace to look guilty. “We’re talking
about…” “When I came back
from Canada, and you’d left to go undercover.
The shock was intense, you were just…gone.” “I tried to warn
you, that phone call, but I was in an impossible position. No-one was supposed to know what I was doing. To keep me safe, and to keep Ray safe.” “But why did you go? You’d never mentioned wanting that kind of
work, in fact I can remember times when you said the absolute opposite.” Ray tried to fidget
away but Ben pulled him back. “This isn’t what
we’re talking about right now,” Ray insisted. “I think I have enough to take
back to Hazel and Welsh and, whatever the guy’s name is at the 29th.” “Lieutenant
Jameson.” “I need him to check
for CCTV at the IRF. Let me speak to
Hazel to start with as we’re still here, and apparently so is Ethan. You happy for me to do that?” “No. Would you be?” “Stupid choice of
words. Do I have your permission to pass
on information that may be beneficial in finding this scumbag?” “Yes.” “Thank you. Now, can I help you before I go and do this? Want to get back in the chair?” “If you can help me
lie down, that’ll be good. And I will take
my medication. Can I have enough to
sleep until tomorrow?” “No, but you can
have more when you wake up tonight.” Ben agreed with a
shallow nod, and once the drugs were taken Ray did what he felt they both
desperately needed, hugging Benny so tightly he almost stopped those traitorous
panicked breaths. Ben leant into him,
almost inaudibly keening, taking every ounce of comfort he could absorb before
the chemicals took hold and he became unnaturally calm. Only then could Ray do as he’d been asked,
carefully helping him to lay down, startled when a spasm hit when he was moving
Ben’s right leg and Ben hissed in a breath between his teeth. “I’m sorry,” Ray
said urgently. “Was that me, did I hurt you?” “No, Ray, not you,”
Ben assured, before dozily sending Ray on his way. “Shout if you need
me,” Ray called over his shoulder as he left the room, pausing outside the
bedroom door just in case Ben wanted him back.
No. Silence. Ray desperately hoped it was as peaceful
inside Benny’s head. Picking up his phone
he went to call Hazel, but his wavering finger couldn’t finish the action. He’d got what he wanted, he knew the truth,
the awful, awful truth, and now he was sitting here trembling as if he’d caught
the shakes from Ben. Ray closed his eyes
and attempted to blot out the distress, both his and Ben’s, and then he
remembered where they’d ended up, with Ray leaving Chicago and deserting Ben,
and knowing they had a whole other conversation to finish, and it would likely
be sooner rather than later. |
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