AgathaHart
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In the Woods Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2017-10-25 14:57:16 +0000 UTC
Note: I've decided to post what I have done for this fic and then to post summaries and art for what I haven't got done. I'll try to post at least once a month, but my main focus will still be on nsfw art. Also everything from now on will be un-beta'd because my beta reader got into nursing school and if I gave her stuff to beta I would never see it again! Let me know if there's an egregious errors.
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Jack’s sense of smell was not fully developed, so he wasn’t at all aware of it, but as soon as Koz walked into the cabin, he knew exactly what the younger man had been doing while he was gone. And he knew he’d done it on their bed.
Koz had bought fast food and was rather glad that he’d been so hungry he’d eaten in the car; otherwise he would’ve been too distracted. He was certainly thankful they were sitting at the table. The scent of Jack’s arousal had all sorts of inappropriate scenarios rolling around Koz’s imagination and sitting the way they were, Jack couldn’t see him reacting to the lingering smell in the air.
How did Jack touch himself? Koz swallowed as he stared off in space. He knew he should try to suppress these ideas but it had been so long since he’d . . . well, it’d been a long time and he didn’t have the strength to restrain that part of his mind. His imagination fluttered to Jack’s chest. And his thighs . . . Did Jack stroke his thighs? The idea of him teasing himself was utterly delectable but Jack seemed the sort to be impatient in bed—he probably went straight for his cock. God, what if he touched his ass? Koz could just picture him, legs spread on their bed, one hand wrapped around his weeping cock while the other fingered his entrance.
He had half a mind to tell Jack he needed a shower so he could slink off and take care of his situation, but a stubborn part of him resisted. He wasn’t some horny teenager (no offence to Jack). They had more important things to do. He could resist the impulse.
It didn’t help matters that when he looked up, there was Jack sitting across from him with some of the worst bed head Koz had ever seen. Usually Jack’s hair seemed to go whichever way it pleased, but today it was all in one direction and that direction was up. Koz couldn’t decide if it was sexy or adorable.
“What’s up?” Jack asked around a mouthful of fries.
Koz started out of his daydreaming. “Oh, nothing!” He said in an unusually high voice. He coughed, ignoring how Jack raised an eyebrow at him. “Just thinking about our plan of attack.”
Jack swallowed. “And what’s that?”
“Finish your lunch first,” Koz said. He hoped that Jack took his time though. He needed a few more minutes before he could stand.
*
After they finished lunch and put away all the groceries Koz had picked up, Koz set to gathering up branches and dry leaves, while Jack cleared a patch of earth in front of the cabin. When the firewood was collected and the fire pit ready—then came the hard part.
Armed with a paper bag, a shovel, a duffle bag filled with excavation tools, rubber gloves, and a side arm each, they set out to find John’s remains.
The air was brisk. Koz could just see his breath. He felt a little chilly in his leather jacket and glanced sidelong at Jack, who was wearing only a hoodie. “Are you cold?” He asked.
“A little,” Jack admitted. “It’s going to snow tonight.”
Koz saw a branch snag the back of Jack’s hood and reached out to un-catch it. “You think so?”
Jack nodded in thanks before speaking: “I’m usually pretty good at predicting snow,” he said quite seriously. “I don’t think it’ll be a lot though.”
Koz wasn’t sure if he bought that—he’d never heard of anyone with a foresight specifically targeted toward snow, but he wasn’t going to fight over it. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll have to go into town and buy some winter clothes.”
“And Christmas presents!”
Koz snorted and nearly walked into a tree branch. “Christmas?” He asked, ducking around the branch.
“Yeah!” Jack said. “I mean, my family celebrated Christmas so I’d give you a present, but you don’t need to if that’s not what you celebrate . . .”
“Oh no,” Koz laughed. “We celebrated Christmas.” Albeit, the secular version. It was North’s favorite holiday; there was no way they couldn’t.
“Alright then, presents!” Jack paused. “It’s November, right?”
“Just barely.”
“We’ve still got time, then!”
Koz snorted. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he could get for Jack. Maybe a DVD set of one of the shows he liked? His thoughts were quickly cut short as he cleared a line of dead brush and spotted a half-buried human skull. He set down his bag. “We’re here,” he said, looking back in time to see Jack’s face fall as his eyes roved across the ground.
“Great,” Jack said.
Koz lead the way, kneeling by the skull and carefully pulling it from the mud. There was no flesh remaining, but some hair still clung to the dried scalp. Jack made a sound of disgust and Koz quickly put the skull in his bag.
Jack walked uncertainly around the perimeter before he knelt and carefully picked something off the ground. He noticed Koz watching and showed him. In Jack’s palm rested a flat, pale bone.
Koz nodded. “That’s a knee cap.”
Jack made a face and dropped the cap into his bag. It only took a few minutes to unearth the larger bones—the parts that would be harder for animals to drag away. The next few hours were spent diligently digging and scouring the area. Nature was against them. Some of the smaller remains have been dragged off buy scavengers and just about all of them had been buried to some degree by the heavy rain. What was more, the ground was nearly frozen. Jack and Koz took turns using the shovel to turn the soil, then sifting through it all. Once they had made certain that an area with clear of remains, cause would have to put his nose to the ground and follow the sense of decay to the next spot. Despite the difficulties, being able to track the scattered parts through sent made the work go by much faster then cause was used to.
Cold as it was, it was sweaty work, and both of them ended up removing their jackets. The plastic gloves also did little to protect them against the cold. By late afternoon, Koz decided to call it a day. Even if they’d missed anything, the sage would keep the cabin safe for as long as they’d need to collect the rest of John’s remains.
They lay out a tarp on the deck and while Jack started the fire, Koz lay out the bones—keeping careful track of each finger and toe joint.
The fire was going strongly by the time he finished. He’d been crouched over the skeleton for some thirty minutes, so he took a moment to sit back on the old deck and roll his neck. He leaned his head back and opened his eyes to see Jack behind him.
“He’s missing some teeth,” Jack noted.
Koz sat up straight, joints protesting as he climbed to his feet. “He was missing a few before he died,” he said. “More importantly, we got all of the fingers and toes!”
“So all that sifting was worth it,” Jack stretched, “that thing was like a damn shake-weight.”
Koz chuckled. “You’ll really be feeling it tomorrow.”
“I’m feeling it now.”
“You’ll be feeling worse tomorrow,” Koz chuckled and grabbed one of the paper bags from before and started dropping the remains into it. “Go get the petrol can from the trunk, would you, love?”
Jack hesitated, then turned around and left the porch. It was nearly a whole minute before Koz realized he’d called Jack ‘love’. He used the term of endearment all the time with Seraphina, even his friends, but never Jack. Why had he done that? And he hadn’t even noticed—how long had he been calling Jack by pet names without realizing it?
He was still mentally kicking himself when Jack returned with the metal petrol tin Koz had brought from Mr. Qwerty’s. If Jack thought the term of endearment was strange, he didn’t say anything. He dutifully poured some of the petrol into a metal bucket they had handy and then they used tongs to drop the bones in, before tossing them into the fire.
It wasn’t exciting or even remotely entertaining; previous misgivings fell away in the face of boredom. Finally, after Jack sighed for the third time in five minutes, Koz spoke up: “Bored?”
“Hunting is nothing like how it is on TV.” Jack shrugged and took a clavicle from the bag, rolled it in petrol, then tossed it into the fire. The bone caught on quickly, cracking apart with the heat as the flames blackened its surface.
“I was also thinking . . . we don’t have to give presents on Christmas or do anything if you don’t want to. I mean . . .” He dropped another bone into the petrol tin, raising an eyebrow—perhaps at the disconnect between what he was saying versus what he was doing. He looked up at Koz again. “I guess I’m just thinking how rough it’s gonna be . . . y’know, out here.”
As compared to being with their families. Koz nodded in understanding. He looked down into the fire, the light stinging his eyes. North loved Christmas, Koz was sure he’d give Seraphina a lovely holiday . . . but he also worried . . . and he ached. He closed his eyes for a moment and saw a clock flashing four in the morning, getting dragged out of bed by tiny hands and shrill excitement, sipping coffee as he watched Seraphina tear open gifts. Eating French toast—would North know to make French toast for Christmas breakfast? What about her birthday?
Koz opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jack said.
“No, it’s fine,” Koz lied. He sighed. “It’s . . . painful to think about what we’ve left behind, but whether we like it or not, we’re both starting a new life out here. We may as well go on and live it.”
Jack shot him a sardonic grin, but there was a tiredness around his eyes that said he knew just how Koz felt. That, strangely enough, made Koz feel better.
“Well then,” Jack said. “If we’re going to celebrate after all, I was going to propose gifts that would kill time. We’ve been pretty busy since Katherine and them showed up, but I figure things will start slowing down now.”
Koz nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said. He wondered if his plan to get Jack a DVD still stood.
“This is probably not what you’re supposed to talk about when you’re burning an angry ghost’s remains,” Jack said a little sheepishly.
Koz chuckled. “You get to a point where you’re desensitized to it,” he said. “Case in point: when I went shopping I knew we’d be starting a fire, so I got things to make s’mores.”
“I was wondering why you bought graham crackers!” Jack snickered. “But . . . won’t cooking marshmallows get like . . . smoked bone on them?”
Koz shrugged, a sneer finding his face. “You know what marshmallows are made of don’t you?”
Jack buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God,” he shook his head, face still hidden.
Koz flushed. He sometimes forgot Jack was a rookie and didn’t have quite the gallows’ humor that Koz did. “Or we could make them some other time.”
Jack lifted his face. “I didn’t say no,” he said.
Koz chuckled and glanced into the paper bag. The only bones left were toes and teeth that had fallen out—and the latter were obnoxiously fire resistant and would have to be dissolved in vinegar after the burning. He carefully tipped them all into the tin bucket. He used his tongs to pick up a bit of ash from the fire. He dropped it into the bucket and the petrol lit up with a whoosh.
Koz stood. “Keep an eye on the fire,” he said before he headed for the cabin. He emerged in a moment with the things for s’mores.
Jack pulled a few long twigs from the branch pile Koz had gathered earlier, and they both shifted to the other side of the fire.
The ground was cold when Koz sat. He almost wished he’d brought out a blanket, but then Jack huddled against his side. He instinctively wrapped an arm around the young man’s lithe waist. This, he decided, was probably better than a blanket—besides, the fire was quite hot.
Jack was discussing marshmallow-cooking techniques, as he speared two of them on a branch each. He gave Koz one of the twigs.
“Personally, I’m a fan of the lightly toasted marshmallow,” Jack said, twirling his stick like a spit just over the flames.
“Really?” Koz said, bemusedly. “I prefer mine well-done.” He plunged his prong into the fire, smirking at Jack’s indignant gasp. When the marshmallow was good and on fire, he pulled it out. He blew out the flames and let go of Jack’s waist to put the whole thing together.
“I suppose the benefit of that method is that you get to eat faster,” Jack relented. “But you also have to eat the burnt marshmallow skin.”
“I like it,” Koz said, biting into his s’more. It was scalding hot and the taste had a scorching nostalgia to it. He remembered sitting in a lawn chair in North’s backyard, a five-year-old Seraphina on his lap. It was his first social visit to North’s home, the first time he’d introduced his hunting friends to Sera and the first time he’d met Bunny—who’d been about Jack’s age at the time.
He blinked the vision away and watched Jack assemble his own treat. Maybe someday remembering his life before wouldn’t feel like such a blow. It’d taken a while for him to think of Jo without feeling a lance of regret and longing—but he’d gotten there eventually. He just needed to give this time.
He forced himself to take another bite of his own and the nostalgia didn’t hurt as badly as before. Koz set up another prong, putting on two marshmallows this time. His back was freezing, but the fire crackled warmly. It felt . . . nice.
The two marshmallows caught aflame in a moment. Jack and Koz hadn’t had anything for dinner, so Koz was hungry enough to eat a dozen, but he’d limit himself to two . . . or three.
He pulled the flaming marshmallows from the fire and blew them out.
Jack shook his head. “Enjoying your burnt sugar?”
“Have you even tried it?” Koz asked as he wedged the marshmallows between graham crackers and chocolate.
Jack made a face.
“Try it!” Koz ordered, holding the s’more out to Jack.
With a roll of his yes, Jack leaned in and bit into the treat, still in Koz’s hand. Koz felt an unexpected trill of excitement. He laughed to cover a bought of sudden embarrassment.
Jack grimaced at the flavor, but it was a playful thing. “Like marshmallow tar,” he said around a mouthful of crumbs.
“It’s the smoked dead man’s toe.” Fuck, stop with the gallows’ humor!
But Jack was laughing, nearly laying his head on Koz’s shoulder as he did, his touch electric. Koz felt like an exposed nerve, alive with energy. He thought he could almost feel Jack’s fringe where it tickled his shoulder.
Then Jack’s laughter stopped. He lifted his head. “What did I tell you?” He said triumphantly. Koz looked over his shoulder, following Jack’s line of sight. For a moment, he saw nothing, and then he spotted movement.
A single white snowflake drifted down just beyond the firelight.
“Snow!” Koz said with a start. He looked up. The heat from the fire was evaporating the early flakes before they could reach the ground around them, but before they fizzled out, he could just see he little flakes drifting lazily toward them. “You did call it didn’t you?”
“Probably won’t snow a lot tonight,” Jack said, “but it’ll look pretty.”
It did look pretty. Koz looked to Jack and found the boy still leaning into his shoulder and looking right at Koz. Koz flushed like a schoolgirl. He hadn’t expected Jack’s face to be so close to his. He could just see Jack’s eyes widen minutely as surprise and realization dawned, then a tentative smile spread across his face and Koz should probably stop looking at his lips—but then, why the Hell should he? Why shouldn’t he lean in?
He could see the plume of their breath intermingling and in the next moment their lips met.
Brrrriiing.
They jumped apart, both looking toward the cabin in alarm.
Brrrriiing.
It was Koz’s cell phone. His shoulders sagged as all the energy in his body rushed out of him in a huff. Jack glanced at him, his expression a mix of relief and amusement. “Oh!” He said, his face going pink. “It’s probably Katherine.” He jumped to his feet and darted inside.
Koz sat a moment, embarrassment and regret washing over him. He shook his head and looked up at the evening sky. He made a wordless sound of frustration before he forced himself to his feet. He turned dirt over the flames until they died. ‘Just like the mood,’ he reflected bitterly.
***
The snow didn’t stick, but the cold did. It took the car forever to warm up. Jack was glad they’d decided to go get winter clothes. He didn’t mind the cold that much, but the thought had entered his head that they may soon be facing snowed-in weather and he’d just as rather be prepared for that. And the thought of getting snowed in with Koz had his imagination leaping between one raunchy scenario to another. Unfortunately, imagining such things wasn’t as exciting as yesterday.
Jack had been pleased but embarrassed about the kiss. The mood was right. Koz seemed into it, the stars were aligned! Then he’d gotten off the phone and things had gotten awkward pretty fast. They’d had dinner, Koz showered, and then they went straight to bed as if nothing had happened.
Jack felt . . . unsure. Even the first time they’d kissed, sudden and awkward as that had been, they’d at least been on the same page: they both knew it was sudden and awkward. The second time was much the same. Jack had been a little less patient then, but they did come to a mutual agreement to put the whole thing on hold. But now . . .
Jack sighed. He’d felt good about last night, but now he didn’t know. What was so different about last night compared to the first two times?
They’d spent a lot more time together. They lived with each other. Maybe Koz wasn’t interested in him any more? That’d be good and humiliating.
But they’d also had the huge blowout that was Jack finding out Koz had tried to kill him. Jack still wasn’t happy about that, even if he understood why—and boy, as close as he’d come to attacking Emma, he understood. But before he’d understood he’d accused Koz of using him--or wanting to use him--for sex. Maybe Koz was holding back because of that?
Or maybe because of any of the reasons he’d listed when Jack asked him point blank for a relationship. Jack sank into his seat. ‘Hello insecurities’, he thought glumly, ‘it’s been too long’.
*
They pulled into the thrift store parking lot (because apparently living off the hunter’s communal funds was only cool if you followed a pre-approved budget plan). While Koz looked through the winter coats, Jack went through the accessories.
Remembering how cold his fingers had been while they dug up John’s bones the day before, Jack picked out two pairs of sturdy gloves, and then as an afterthought, found some thinner gloves that’d be easier to pull a trigger with. Once he had the gloves he started through the hats. Most of them were cast-offs from big chain stores. A lot had ugly knock-off cartoon characters patched onto their surface, or else manufacturing flaws. The least offensive was a salmon-pink knit hat. It was definitely supposed to be a girl’s hat, but it wasn’t like Jack cared if wearing something girly made him look gay. For Koz, he found a black headband with a knit flower on one side. They could cut it off if need be (though Jack couldn’t help but think how cute Koz would look if he kept the flower).
He moved on to the scarves and found there were only two--a silky sparkly thing that would never keep anyone’s neck warm, and a simple dark blue one. Jack picked it up for Koz.
Jack’s gaze landed on a pile of yarn balls next to the scarf hooks. There were a few ‘learn how to knit’ books shelved just above the yarn.
Jack eyed the display, and then looked back to where Koz was still flicking through the sweaters, his hand basket stuffed with coats. The older man had given Jack twenty dollars to buy a Christmas present. Jack grinned.
*
“What’s that?” Koz raised an eyebrow at the bag in Jack’s hand. “Did you pay already?”
Jack shook his head. “I thought I’d let you make the final call on the hat I picked out for you. This . . .” He lifted the bag slightly. “Is your Christmas present.”
Koz snorted. “Already? What did you get me? Something good I hope.”
“Eh,” Jack shrugged. “Hopefully, you’ll get a kick out of it.”
“Does it follow your time-spending’ rule?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m sure I’ll like it,” Koz said. “What would you like for Christmas?”
Jack had no idea. His eyes landed on a fur coat that was definitely real. He stroked the material. “This coat,” he said. “Buy me this coat.”
Koz tutted. “Don’t be silly,” he said, “you already have a fur coat.”
Jack blinked as Koz waited for him to catch the joke. “Because I’m a werewolf!” Jack blurted. “Ha.”
Koz snickered. “Took you a minute,” he teased.
Jack rolled his eyes, a grin splitting across his face before he thought, ‘are we flirting?’ His good humor vanished. God, why couldn’t he just talk to Koz like normal?
Koz offered him three of the coats on his arm. “Here smart guy,” he said. “Try these on.”
Jack finished comparing coats while Koz was engrossed in the sweater collection. Jack left him to it and wandered from the clothing section to find the pink ukulele he’d played with during their last visit.
By the time Koz found him he’d successfully figured out how to play Hot Cross Buns and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. He was quite pleased with himself and wanted to show Koz, but perhaps due to the dominating sense of insecurity, he felt too bashful to gloat.
“Good news,” Koz said as he approached the couch, arms laden with plastic bags. “The cashier remembered me and they just got a load of donated items, including squirt guns!”
Jack blinked. “Squirt guns?”
Koz nodded, quite serious. “Now we can focus on hunting the Black Dog.”
*
They’d gotten their winter gear just in time it seemed. After a hasty lunch, they bundled up and hurried to the Black Dog’s hiding spot. It wasn’t quite freezing, but it was plenty cold out. Jack and Koz made their way through the brush, breath steaming and faces flushed. The woods were quiet; most of the animals were settling in for winter or else had migrated south already, so Jack heard the river before he saw it.
The creek they’d followed to find the Black Dog had swollen into quite the river, and while Jack didn’t doubt the water was absolutely freezing, it wasn’t actually frozen.
They wordlessly followed the river several yards until they reached the spot where the Black Dog had crossed. It was entirely underwater now, but they could plainly see the marked tree just across the bank.
Jack cast around for a place to cross--maybe upstream.
“Damn,” Koz breathed.
“What?” Jack started.
Koz nodded to the bank grimly. “Look there on the ground.”
Jack squinted and could just see a dark patch beneath the Black Dog’s nest. Amid the fallen leaves and dead shrubbery, you could just see what appeared to be a trail of burnt flora, starting at the base of the tree and following the edge of the river out of sight.
Jack looked to Koz, and Koz answered his unspoken question.
“The Black Dog is on the move.”
***
Jack forced the curling edges of the topographical atlas back as his eyes roamed the pages. After being shoved in the glove compartment for who knew how long, the thin booklet was quite uncooperative and it took several minutes of struggle to turn each page before Jack found the area they were looking for.
”Anything?” Koz asked, his eyes glancing from Jack in the passenger seat to the road and back. They reached a stop sign and he craned his neck, looking past Jack’s hunched figure to scan the forest on the other side of the road.
The Black Dog couldn’t cross the river; it would have to continue until it found the river’s end. So they would need to get there first. The trouble was they weren’t quite sure where that would be.
Jack thought this would be simple, how many waterways could there be in one section of forest? The answer was a lot apparently. “These all look the same!” Jack said.
”We didn’t cross any other rivers on the way to that one,” Koz said. ”Look for one close to the edge of town.”
Jack bit his lip and focused. His eyes skimmed across the old page, darting over the tangle of waterways. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gestured: “It looks like . . . most of the rivers join up to Nora Lake kind of by the east entrance to the caves . . . so if we go . . . straight . . .” He trailed off. He would kill for Google maps, but his burner cell was just some crummy flip phone with no Internet.
Jack realized suddenly that they were still parked. He glanced at the road and, seeing it clear of vehicles, turned to Koz in confusion. He was shocked to see Koz’s face a ghastly white and his knuckles tense over the wheel.
“Whoa, are you okay?” Jack asked.
Koz blinked quickly and pulled his hands from the wheel. “What?” He looked at Jack like he’d forgotten he was even there. “I’m fine,” he said quickly. “What were you saying?”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Nora Lake? Go straight.”
“Nora Lake,” Koz said with a slight nod. He turned back to the road, reaching for the steering wheel.
He flicked on his turn signal, paused, turned it off, and then sat there. Fingers still on the turn signal’s switch. His gaze was distant in a way that made Jack’s heart pound in alarm.
“Okay, you are not okay.” He said, reaching out to grab Koz’s forearm.
Koz started at the contact. He looked from his arm to Jack and Jack swore he couldn’t tell if Koz looked like he was going to puke or cry and it made him very, very afraid.
“I just . . .” Koz said in a small voice. “I realized if I just turn left, then right, and along there a little way—I’ll be at my house.”
Oh. Jack swallowed, his fear dissolving into a pit at the bottom of his stomach. Koz’s eyes were out of focus again, miles away, and Jack didn’t know what to say or do. He looked at the road before them for inspiration, biting his lip. Koz couldn’t go home, intellectually, they both knew this, but Jack knew firsthand how hard it was to hold back when you were so close. But . . . he thought of how he’d almost bitten Emma, Ombric’s face when he told Jack how he’d killed Katherine’s parents and turned her, and he thought of Koz as he’d first seen him: on his knees, a gun to his head.
He shuddered. If Koz went home and something bad happened, it would destroy him.
Jack took a deep breath and opened his door.
Koz snapped to. “Jack?” He asked, faintly alarmed as Jack hopped out of the van. Jack ignored him and walked around the front of the van to the driver’s side door. He opened it and met Koz’s confused gaze.
“I’ll drive,” Jack said.
Koz blinked, looking all the world like a confused child. “What?”
“Get up,” Jack said firmly. His face felt war; his heart fluttered anxiously. “I’m driving.”
For a moment, Koz just stared, then his open surprise crumpled into a grimace. “I can do it.”
Jack let out a huff and leaned against the side of the car. “I know you can,” he said, “you already did it when you left the first time. I just don’t what you to have to.” He nudged Koz’s shoulder. “C’mon,” he said gently.
Koz sat still a long moment, glaring at the steering wheel, before he finally let go and slid from the driver’s seat.
Jack had a fleeting moment to wonder if he should walk Koz to the passenger seat, but no--Koz said he could do this. Still, he did wait until Koz had closed his door first before closing his own. He eyed Koz as he buckled in. The older man still looked like he wanted to bolt.
Jack started the car forward again. For the next few blocks, Koz may have had an antenna on his head detecting his house for how much his tension gave away his thoughts.
Jack glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. “Do you want to put the Black Dog on hold?” He asked. “We could come back later.”
Koz shot him a reproachful look. “The Black Dog is loose, we can’t just leave it to wander.”
Jack looked back to the road, flushing slightly. “It’s on the other side of the river,” he grumbled. “It probably won’t find any humans.”
“If you feel that confident about it, then we can turn round,” Koz said coolly.
They reached another stop sign and Jack braked. He huffed, but held his tongue.
Koz was silent a long moment. He glared straight ahead.
Jack’s eyes flicked to the road, and he noticed that there was a middle school on the right side of the street. His heart softened somewhat. He’d given Koz a lot of shit when Koz tried to convince him that going home was a bad idea. He could be patient with Koz now. “Is there something I can do?” He asked.
“There’s really nothing to make things better.” Came the flat response.
“Well,” Jack eased on the gas. “Yeah, the situation is what it is, but can I do anything to make you feel better about it?” Jack cast around for options. Looking back, the whole time after Manny bit him, he knew on some level that he couldn’t go back home. He’d felt better about this when he’d seen his family was going to be all right without him—would something similar work for Koz?
“What if we drove past your house?” He asked. “Would it be better to check in every now and then than to stop—”
“I can’t go back,” Koz said. “It was bad enough leaving when I was trying to kill myself.” He said the word viciously and Jack’s mouth went dry. “If I go back now . . . if I try to ‘check-in’ on her, I know I won’t be able to do it half-way.”
Jack licked his lips and nodded. “I guess I understand that,” he said, pretending to be calm. Whenever Koz mentioned his suicide attempt, Jack felt a spike of cold panic. He’d been anxious at the thought ever since their first meeting, but the feeling had only grown in size and depth the longer he’d come to know the man. Sometimes (particularly right then) it hit hard that Koz had been to a very dark place and could easily return there. Jack clenched his hands around the steering wheel. He felt helpless.
Koz inhaled deeply. “I don’t mean to make you worry,” he said.
Jack shook his head. “I’d rather you talked to me and made me worry than keep everything to yourself.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Actually, if you’re really concerned about how I feel, you should talk to me. Because if you do that again—try to hurt yourself—I know it’s selfish, but that—I—I would—I’d rather worry.” Jack clapped his mouth shut, feeling like an idiot. A very frightened idiot.
Koz slumped in his seat. He was quiet a long, long moment, staring out the window. The houses became sparse and more and more trees lined the edge of the road. The car picked up speed as they moved into the outskirts of town.
“You know, since Joan died . . .” Koz started suddenly, then paused as though he had spoken without meaning. It took another moment for him to start again: “Seraphina is the reason for my being . . . Leaving her feels like giving up oxygen.”
Jack didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet and let Koz speak. “I’m not quite sure what to do without her and the thought of a future where I’ve purposefully removed her from my life feels wrong. And I’ll miss her so much! I’m never going to see her off to high school or college. I won’t teach her to drive or . . . God, so many things . . . One day, she might get married and have children and I’ll miss that too.” Koz bowed his head, running a hand over his face. “I don’t even have a picture of her . . .”
Jack chewed his lip. He waited a moment, listening to Koz’s unsteady breathing. “I know we can’t postpone the hunt,” he said softly, “but do you want a break?” Jack wanted to pull over and just give Koz a damn hug.
Koz shook his head. He sucked in air like he’d just come up from under water. “I’m good to hunt. I’m good at compartmentalizing.”
“Well, that sounds healthy.” And also not what Jack meant. He didn’t care half as much about the hunt as he did Koz’s mental stability.
He had mixed feelings about the small laugh Koz let out in response, but when he reached over and touched Koz’s hand, the man responded, holding his hand tightly.
*****
The map led them to a surprisingly familiar-looking parking lot. Jack stared at the squat building before them. “Isn’t that where we caught that skin walker guy?” Jack asked as he pulled into a spot.
Koz nodded. “The Beluta Cave Visitor Center. We’ll have to hike a little bit to the river.” His frown was just visible in the yellow light of the lot’s lone street lamp. “If the Black Dog hides in the caves, we may not be able to find it again.”
Jack nodded. “So we’re taking this guy out tonight.”
“Yes.” Koz opened the passenger side door and went to retrieve their ‘weapons’ from the trunk. The squirt guns were leaky, as cheap squirt guns tended to be, so they’d taken some time to thoroughly wrap them in duct tape. Not for the first time, Jack wondered what it would be like if they were caught out hunting for monsters by a normal police officer. He couldn’t even imagine.
The two started down a hiking path to a jogging trail next to the river. But of course, it wasn’t this side of the river that interested them. They followed the jogging trail, keeping an eye on the opposite bank, but largely not caring if they made a lot of noise or attracted attention. It was only after they crossed a covered bridge that the hunt took on a more severe tone.
“Remember: Black Dogs usually approach from behind.” Koz whispered.
“So check your six, and if I hear footsteps then that means one’s creeping up on us and I should get ready to shoot before I turn around,” Jack finished.
“Exactly.” Koz nodded forward, indicating that it was Jack’s turn to take the lead.
Jack swallowed. He knew technically this was the safer place to be, and all he had to do was follow the river until they found the Black Dog’s trail, then he’d just follow Koz’s instructions. Still, it was intimidating. And he was worried about Koz—was his head in the right place for this?
Jack let out a breath to steady himself. If Koz trusted him to lead, then he would trust Koz too. He left the shelter of the covered bridge hesitantly. He immediately felt exposed. Dried leaves crunched beneath his feet, sounding far too loud for Jack’s comfort.
The bank on this side of the river was wilder, less maintained as the jogging path veered from the water’s edge. The ground was a good foot or two above the waterline, and quite stony. It was too late in the season for any greenery, so the whole path was covered in bare branches and dried brush.
Jack skirted around the worst of these, alternating between checking the ground for tracks and sweeping his surroundings for any sign of the beast, relying heavily on his night vision. He was glad he didn’t have to use a flashlight. It didn’t matter the situation, he had seen too many horror movies to make a flashlight feel safe.
Nearly an hour passed in that same tense way. Adrenaline left his body hot and sweaty and Jack unzipped his coat. His fingers were sore from resting on the trigger for so long and occasionally he’d take a moment to let go and flex his hand.
“Let’s take a quick rest,” Koz said, his voice as soft and muted as the plume of warm air that slipped from his mouth and into the cold air.
Jack nodded wordlessly.
They sat, back to back, out in the open with only a few brambles to hide them—but more importantly, only a few brambles to conceal the Black Dog’s approach.
Something nudged Jack’s hand and he flinched before he realized it was just Koz offering him a bottle of water. He took a few eager sips before he cut himself off. Much as he wanted to stay hydrated, he was also slightly paranoid that if he drank too much, he’d need to pee and if he stopped to do that, he’d definitely be murdered and become the world’s most embarrassed ghost.
“We’ve headed away from the main cave right?” He asked quietly.
“The big one, yes,” Koz said. “But there are plenty of corridors and smaller openings scattered throughout the forest.” Koz was quiet a long moment. “I think there’s one near here.”
“You think?”
“My mental map of this side of the forest isn’t that good.”
“Great.” Jack let out a huff. “You ready to go again?”
“Yes,” Koz said, standing with a soft groan.
Jack stood as well, and took up the point position once more. The flat open space they’d chosen to rest lay at the edge of a field, low enough that the ground was almost level with the water. Shallow puddles dotted the ground, frozen at the edges, and separated by patches of mud, with varying thickness. Jack was reminded of the Dead Marshes in Lord of the Rings, but the comparison just left him queasy.
The first few steps across the soft ground nearly cost him his shoes as thick black muck half-submerged his feet. He bit his lip, aware of Koz at his back, reassuring but also pressing. He took another step and let out a soft curse as his foot sank to the ankle. Then the ground gave way.
Jack yelped as he fell through darkness. Stone scraped against his back and front painfully. He tried to lift his head to see where he was falling and something smacked his face hard enough to crack his head back against rock. Jack saw stars and didn’t realize until too late that he was free falling. Before he could even shout he hit the ground with a painful smack.
For a moment, he lay still, trying to get his lungs to work right. He was hurt . . . but how bad? His face was in agony, his eyes streaming and warmth pouring down his chin and the back of his throat. Maybe a broken nose? He’d definitely hit his head pretty hard judging by the roaring in his hears and his momentary inability to coordinate his limbs.
Sound returned quickly.
“Jack!” Koz’s voice echoed somewhere far above him.
“Koz—” Jack croaked. Warmth dribbled into his mouth and he spat blood. He clumsily wiped his lips and took a deep breath to shout, discovering a few broken ribs. “Koz!” He managed a little louder.
“Jack!” Koz’s relief echoed slightly. “Are you all right?”
“Kinda,” Jack replied shakily, pushing himself onto hand and knees. Oh, his ribs didn’t like that. Remarkably, nothing else seemed broken, but his whole left side where he’d landed felt like one giant bruise.
“Hang on,” Koz said, “I’ll come down to you!”
Jack blinked rapidly as his vision gradually adjusted to the gloom, slipping into super werewolf vision after a moment.
He looked up at where he’d fallen and saw the barest sliver of light in a wide ceiling. “Don’t—” Jack gasped, his ribs throbbing. “The opening’s narrow and there’s no place to climb down.”
He glanced around. Even with night vision, the cave was dark. The floor was damp and uneven and the room he was in twisted off into three directions--one of these was noticeably brighter than the others.
“Koz, I think I see a way out,” Jack said, standing as slowly as possibly. His left leg shook and throbbed, but managed to hold his weight.
“Bad idea!” Koz said. “You could get lost! Just . . . stay put, I’ll go—I’ll get some rope or something.”
Jack could just see the gleam of his water gun. He stopped to pick it up and was dismayed to find it wet. “Shit.” He felt along the sides until he found the large crack in the plastic weapon’s seam. “Koz, my gun’s busted.” Jack shouted up. “Let me walk down the tunnel a little way. I wont’ get lost. There are only two sources of light down here anyway.”
There was a long pause before Koz spoke. “All right, I’ll head to a cave entrance I know of. They could be connected. If you aren’t there in twenty minutes, I’ll head back here.”
“All right,” Jack said. “Watch your six.”
There was a pause.
“Watch your—all of you.”
There was just the slightest hint of fear in Koz’s tone that reminded Jack suddenly that he was actually in more danger here than he was up above. He was alone, his weapon was damaged, and he wouldn’t be able to see the Black Dog at all in all this gloom.
He swallowed. He wished they hadn’t agreed to split up—but trying to find a way out would probably be better than sitting here in the dark, waiting for however long it would take Koz to get back to the car and—maybe—find some rope.
He took a deep breath and held his weapon on its side so it wouldn’t leak as much. He might not be able to react as fast, but it would be better than all his ammo dripping away.
Between the weakness in his left leg and the unevenness of the floor, his movements were slow. The room smelled like damp earth and musk. The air was still and cool—but warmer than it had been on the surface. If it hadn’t been, Jack was sure the place would be unbearable. He couldn’t really see colors, but he could make out shapes, so he could sidestep stalactites and duck under low-hanging stalagmites. He reached the opening where the low light came from, though he couldn’t see an exit. He doubted if he would have even been able to see this light if he was human—it was so faint.
He ducked and started making his way through the narrow corridor.
The farther he walked, the tighter the space became until Jack was forced to shuffle sideways. They didn’t make caves look like this in the movies! He felt slightly betrayed and definitely claustrophobic. The air was close and his broken ribs were getting knocked against the walls.
Quite abruptly, he slipped free of the wall and into another room. There were many passages connected to this one, including several gaps in the ceiling where tree roots hung down like spider webs. Jack tried not to think that there very likely were spider webs all around him.
The brightest path here was low to the ground and had a strange murky quality to it. He started toward it and sank up to his ankle in a—freezing cold—crystal clear pool. Jack jumped back with a gasp. The light ahead of him trembled as the water rippled.
“Crap,” Jack hissed. He made a mental note to have Koz resume their swimming lessons once it was warm again. As it was, he didn’t think he could swim down to the opening without drowning or freezing.
Maybe one of the other tunnels? It was hard to tell if there were other sources of light when the underwater light was so bright. There was a small corridor, above and to the side of the water passage that seemed promising. He tested the ground ahead of him with the toe of his wet shoe, just to make sure he didn’t fall into the water.
Poking his head through the narrow crack, he could just make out a dark room with a high floor and a low ceiling. The room bent away, but around the bend, he could just see a little bit of light. He could also hear something—just the slightest bit of rumbling. Maybe there was an underground river nearby, like the one running beneath the cabin.
A frown came to his face. Could the Black Dog cross underground rivers? What were the parameters for the ‘no-crossing-running-water’ rule? He wished he had Koz to tell him whether or not he should be worried. It’d probably be safe to assume danger until proven otherwise.
The opening was very narrow and high enough that he would have to do some climbing to get himself through. He tapped his fingers against the water gun’s side. He didn’t feel safe without it, but he also needed his hands free. He compromised and squeezed his head and arm through the hole, pulled the weapon along and setting it at the furthest edge of his reach. Not beyond his reach, but not in the way.
Jack rested both elbows on the lip of the opening and clambered up, his chest dragging painfully across the ground. He held his breath and grimaced. He would give props to werewolf healing powers—he’d probably had a concussion and a broken nose, but his head no longer hurt and his face was numb. Now if only those healing powers would hurry up with his ribs.
He reached for a handhold on the ground and met jagged debris. He gasped and drew his hand back, hurriedly squirming to pull his sleeves over his hands. He managed to haul himself into the small pace beyond. God, it was noisy though. Whatever it was that littered the floor, it cracked and crunched under his weight.
Jack reached for his gun and carried it level. It was much lighter than it had been and he could hear the water sloshing around inside. There wasn’t much left.
Jack couldn’t stand upright, but he managed to crouch along the crunchy ground, stepping as lightly as he could.
How long had it been since he and Koz had separated? What if he got out of here and still couldn’t find him? He pushed the thoughts away. He had to focus on getting out first. Once he was out, everything would be fine. Except he might end up lost in the woods just like he had before he and Koz met.
Focus!
He came to the end of the low room and was faced with another, more open chamber. Before him he saw a jagged, uneven slope—probably just like the room he’d come from; covered in delicate mineral deposits that had taken millions of years to form only to fall victim to his blundering footsteps. Jack crinkled his nose. It smelled like something had died in here.
Jack took a step onto the slope only to discover it was not at all stable. The ground gave way and he stumbled back, setting his heel down on equally unstable ground and falling back. He tucked his chin and covered his head as he fell. It seemed the whole slope was collapsing as bits of who-knows-what rained down on him. At least they weren’t as heavy as rocks.
As soon as the ground stopped moving, Jack was up. Never mind that the bruise on his left side was throbbing or the agony in his ribs or that his face was sore again, he’d made a lot of noise and he’d lost his gun. He scrambled around for it, knocking debris out of his way until his hand landed on something vaguely handle-shaped. But it wasn’t plastic . . . it didn’t feel like mineral or stone either. He gently touched it with both hands. It was long, L-shaped, and had a distinct knob on one end. Sort of like . . . a femur.
Jack’s whole body went cold as a wave of nausea stole over him. Jack dropped the bone and left. Never mind his broken, useless weapon, he was getting out.
Comments
LOL You can tell I used voice-to-text for some of this, sorry about that! I suppose it's better than 'Carl' which is the other thing it kept changing Koz to. XD
More In the Woods! Yes! And sorry I didn't read this sooner, I haven't felt like reading at all lately. There were a few typos, the biggest being writing 'cause' instead of Koz twice in the paragraph where they were digging up John's bones.
