River's Edge Read online

  Simon sighed and motioned for Daryl to go with him. “I’ll tell you in a bit. Jim?” he asked, as he walked by. “If he wakes up, let him know it’s okay. We understand.”

  “Understand what?” Daryl asked, looking from Ellison to his father to Sandburg. “Wait a minute. Is he unconscious? What’s wrong with Blair? Should we go get an ambulance?”

  Jim smiled at him, his face composed as it always was now when he spoke with innocents who had stumbled onto a crime scene. Or when he spoke with Sandburg after some of the more grisly parts of their jobs. “I’m sorry about what happened, Daryl, and I’m positive that Blair will be horrified when he realizes what he did. Yes, he’s unconscious. He hit his head when he fell, but he’ll be waking up soon. I hope you’ll reassure him that everything’s okay then, because he’s going to feel a little confused for a while.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Daryl asked, eyes wide.

  Ellison glanced over to Simon, asking permission, but the captain had to shake his head. “I’ll tell him, Jim. Come on, Daryl. Let’s go get a blanket for Blair.”

  “Just tell him the truth,” Jim said softly, cradling Blair’s head in his one hand as he checked him over again.

  Simon headed back to their camp, Daryl following in his wake, tugging on his arm. “Dad? Talk to me.”

  What am I supposed to say to you? I don’t want you to know anything about this. I don’t want you to know about Golden or smack or crack or LSD anything else out there that we have to deal with.

  “Daryl, about five months ago, Blair accidently ate a piece of pizza that had something called Golden on it.”

  “Golden? Whoa. That’s one messed up drug.” Daryl looked back over his shoulder at Jim and Blair.

  Simon skidded to a halt, glaring down at his son. “How do you know about it? It’s one of the new designer drugs that has hit Cascade.”

  “I’m not deaf and blind, Dad. I hear things. At school, they were talking about it. Someone knew someone who had taken it. Really freaked out.” Daryl stopped. “I’ve never seen anyone freak out before. That’s what happened?”

  “Actually, it was a flashback. That’s when—”

  “I know what it means, Dad.”

  Why do you have to know stuff like this? Simon wondered, increasing his pace to the campsite. “Yeah, well, it’s not a pretty sight, is it?”

  Daryl shrugged. “Guess not.”

  Simon whirled on him. “Guess not? What kind of an answer is that? Did you see what that drug did to Sandburg?”

  “Chill, Dad. I was there, remember?” To emphasize his point, Daryl started brushing off some of the stones and pebbles that had imbedded themselves on him.

  Simon groaned and pulled his son into a quick hug, then took another good look at him. He had what would probably be bruises on his forehead. “Your mother will never let me take you anywhere again. First what happened at the station, then Peru, and now this. Daryl, I’m sorry he hurt you, son. You know Blair would never mean to hurt you.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s not his fault, right?”

  “Right.” They reached the campsite and Simon disappeared into his tent to get a blanket. When he came back out, Daryl was by the fire, warming his hands. “Listen, son, why don’t you get out of those wet clothes? The temperature is starting to drop. Your mother will be even madder at me if you get a cold.”

  Daryl started to argue, then backed down and went into the tent. Simon returned to where Ellison still crouched over his partner, who lay immobile and pale on the ground, his hair feathered out on the ground around his head. Ellison took the blanket and wrapped it around Sandburg, tucking it under him so he wasn’t lying on the damp shoreline stones.

  “I get the feeling you were waiting for that to happen.” Simon sat down on a log by them.

  Ellison shrugged. “The doctor felt it might, considering the severity of his first reaction. It’s been a few months, though, so I was starting to convince myself he was okay.”

  “I thought a flashback could happen any time, even years from now.”

  “I realize that, Simon. But you know how it is— you like to think the past is over. In the past. Except when it comes back and haunts you.” Ellison brushed his hand over his face, his eyes returning to Sandburg, who was beginning to stir. “He’s going to be devastated by this, you realize.”

  “Well, it’s something he’s going to have to live with. We can’t undo the past, as much as we’d like to.” He studied the tension in the detective’s shoulders, the tightness of the jaw. “We all paid dearly for that assignment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sandburg may have eaten the pizza, but you and he pushed me to let you do the job, even with you blind, and I foolishly okayed it. That makes me ultimately responsible for what happened. And look what happened to us.”

  Ellison smiled.

  “What’s so funny?” Simon asked.

  “Just what you said. Sandburg’s always going on about micro-cultures within society and non-familial groupings, and here we are both considering what happened to him as something that happened to ourselves. We need to tell him that.”

  “Yeah, well …”

  Blair groaned, one hand moving up to his head. “Jim?”

  “Right here, buddy.”

  “Wow, man … what hit me?” Blair struggled upward, pushing away Jim’s light restraint. He moved back from them, sitting unsteadily.

  “The ground. You tripped.” Ellison said the last word carefully, waiting for a reaction that didn’t take long to come. Blair stared up at him, then closed his eyes with another groan. “It’s okay. We thought it might happen, and it did. We’re all okay. We came through it fine.”

  “Daryl? Oh, God, Jim, what did I do to him?” Blair’s eyes reopened and fixed on his partner, then he tore his gaze away and looked over to where Daryl was slowly making his way along the riverbank to them.

  Simon knelt down beside them. “Sandburg, Daryl’s fine. You didn’t hurt him at all.”

  “He was on fire … Shit. I thought he was on fire, didn’t I?” The intense blue eyes looked over to Ellison for help, and Simon cringed inwardly at the pain on the detective’s face.

  “It’s not your fault, Chief. Remember that. We’re not going to have to go through all this again, are we?”

  Blair seemed mesmerized by the trickle of blood on Ellison’s face. “The oil is leaking. Don’t go too near the fire, Jim.”

  Ellison gave a little laugh. “He’s not totally back with us yet.” He stood up, then reached down to help Blair to his feet. “Let’s go back to the camp and out of those wet clothes, then you can have a little zone-out time of your own.”

  “I’m okay. I’m okay,” Sandburg said, but he willingly let Ellison lead him back to the camp.

  “Dad?”

  Simon draped his arm over his son’s shoulders. “Let’s go see to dinner. I took the salmon off the grill just before this all happened.”

  *

  It was still early in the evening, but the sun had already set, giving the area a timeless ‘night’ feel about it. While Blair fought off the dregs of the flashback, the others had quietly eaten dinner, Jim and Simon talking back and forth about whether to keep fishing where they were, or to try another location down river. They had tried to keep everything light and to put aside what had happened, but Daryl hardly noticed the conversation at all. His eyes had darted constantly to where Blair sat, his hands wrapped around his knees and his head down.

  Halfway through their meal, Blair had gotten to his feet and mumbled an apology, retreating into the tent he was sharing with Jim. The others had continued eating, then washed up and secured the campsite for the night. There were always sightings of bears in the area, especially if food was left out. Finally, everything tidied, Simon and Daryl had withdrawn to their tent. Ellison could hear their voices talking quietly, probably still discussing what had happened. He didn’t listen to the private conversation.

  Why did this
have to involve Simon’s son? If had just been the three of them, it would have been easier to convince Blair that it was not an issue. Jim shook his head, staring into the fire. This camping trip was supposed to erase the bad memories of Simon’s kidnaping, not stir up a whole new crop of them. Blair had had a difficult time on that trip, but he’d kept pushing himself to keep going, despite his own fear. Jim had been proud of the kid and had told him so. Simon had seen a bit of what Blair had gone through at the end, and had been equally impressed with how Blair had handled being shot and almost killed. Scared stiff didn’t matter. That was natural. It was keeping his head and doing whatever he was able to that spoke volumes about his character.

  Jim could hear Blair in the tent now, turning from side to side, trying to get comfortable, trying to will himself to sleep a little. If what the doctor had warned them about was any indication of what Blair was now going through, he’d quite probably be having brief flashes of his hallucinogenic trip, his exhausted mind, nerves, and muscles overstimulated by the sudden intrusion of one reality over another. The odds seemed to be much higher that if the original trip was a negative experience, the flashbacks would also be negative. And if it was true that stress triggered flashbacks, it was a wonder this was the first one he’d had.

  What Blair needed was a safe environment to come down from it all, and lying in his tent, feeling guilty, all alone, and trying not to wake anyone, was not the answer.

  “Sandburg.” Ellison listened as his young friend gasped almost inaudibly, then lay motionless in the tent. “Blair,” he said again, keeping his voice just loud enough for his partner to hear, “I know you’re still awake. Why don’t you come out here?”

  “Why?” His partner’s voice was even more quiet.

  “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

  No response, except for an increase in the heartbeat.

  “Blair?”

  “What are you doing awake, man? I thought I was supposed to be the one the doctor said would have trouble with insomnia after a flashback.” Blair tried to laugh, but the sound didn’t work.

  “I’ve just been thinking and I’d like to talk with you.”

  A catch in his breathing. “I’m sorry about all this, Jim. I’m sorry. I would never have come if I had known this was going to happen. I’m just so sorry, man. I didn’t know this—”

  “Quiet.” The slight command in Jim’s voice was enough to bring the torrent of words to a halt, but not enough to bring Blair outside the tent. “Just come out here, will you?”

  He heard Blair moving after a moment, slowly shifting in his sleeping bag as he crawled out of it. Head lowered, Blair stepped out into the star-lit night. Jim could see he was shaking, his nerves tight. “Come over here.”

  All that brought was more shaking, no actual movement forward. Arms wrapped around himself, Blair stared across to where Ellison sat by the fire. Jim wasn’t sure if the young man appeared more like a child about to be hit, or someone watching their home burn to the ground, but the uncertainty and fear was profound. “What’s wrong, Chief? Why are you afraid of me?”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Blair responded quickly. “I’m not.” But he repeated it a third time. “I’m not.”

  “Then what are you afraid of?” It took Sandburg a few minutes to come up with an answer, and Ellison watched the emotions trip over the familiar features, the shivering worsening.

  “I hate this, Jim. I hate being … out of control. I hate Daryl seeing me like this. I hate Simon seeing me like this.” His voice caught. “I hate you seeing me like this.”

  “Everyone hates being out of control, Chief. It’s perfectly natural. Especially when it’s something that’s not your fault, that you have no say in. It makes you feel vulnerable and naked.”

  Blair was staring at him, eyes wary, still waiting for the bomb to fall. Then Sandburg’s gaze transferred to the fire, as if half-expecting the flames to leap out at him and consume him.

  “Come over here, around the campfire, and sit beside me.”

  Blair pulled his gaze from the flames, his eyes seeking a path. “I don’t feel much like talking, Jim … Actually, could I borrow your truck? I’ll go back to Cascade and you could get a ride back with Simon. Or if not, I’ll just get my stuff together and hitch a ride in. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. I should never have come— I’ve got classes to prepare for— Did I tell you I picked up two classes for the summer? They meet on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, eight to ten and ten to twelve. There’s a staff meeting I should be at this coming Tuesday. I know we’re supposed to be heading back on Monday, but if I go now, I’ll have more time to get my stuff together for it. I—”

  “Sandburg, just shut up and come over here.”

  “I don’t think I can do that, Jim. I’m sorry if I’m an embarrassment to you, or you’re disappointed in me, or whatever, but I can’t. Don’t ask me to.”

  Ellison held out his left arm, gesturing as he spoke. “Just come around here, over to me. I need to talk to you. I’ve got something I’m trying to work out with this Sentinel stuff.”

  Sandburg froze and the shivering stopped for a moment. “What?”

  “I said—”

  “I heard you. I heard you. You want to talk about it now?” He was back to the wary look. A big breath, in and out, then he started moving, skittering around the campfire to fall to the ground next to Jim. “What’s wrong? What’s the problem, man?”

  Ellison had figured out earlier what he wanted to say, but not how he wanted to say it, so he took a moment now to frame his thoughts, well aware of what his silence was doing to his friend. “Sandburg, would you say I was a man who liked to be in control?”

  Blair let out a nervous laugh. “Liked to be in control? Needed to be in control, is more like it.”

  “Is that something most Sentinels would have in common?”

  Blair shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s a good assumption. It goes with the character. The self-confidence, the leadership ability. — Why? Do you think you have a control problem, Jim? Besides the color-coded leftover containers, the growing list of house rules, and the general bossiness?”

  Ellison shook his head, appreciating Blair’s attempt at humor, considering what it must have cost him to come over and sit beside him. He scratched at his chin, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say something further or not. That always fixed Blair’s attention. “Sometimes, I just wonder what’s going on in my head, Sandburg. I find myself doing things that are so out of character for me.”

  “Like what?” Blair had edged closer, the shaking almost gone, eyes wide as he tried to understand, to fully comprehend the Sentinel’s problem. There was almost a desperation in his look that never failed to astonish Ellison with the extent of the kid’s desire to help. “What kind of things, Jim?”

  “Well, to start, I never seem to worry about what happens to me when you hypnotize me, or put me in a suggestive state so you can talk me though a problem.” Ellison took great care not to look at his partner. “Doesn’t that seem strange to you? Me, a ‘control freak’, as you once called me, willingly putting myself in your hands where anything could happen? You could put false ideas in my head, or make me do embarrassing things, or any of a thousand other stunts. Yet I never stop to consider that.”

  “I’d never do that, Jim. I swear, man, I’d never do any of those things. You know that, don’t you? I mean, maybe I’d think about doing something crazy, but I’d never actually do it.”

  “I know that. But isn’t it strange that I so willingly give you control so easily? It’s hardly been an issue for me at all.”

  Sandburg stared at him, his eyebrows drawing closer together. “I don’t understand, Jim. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what I do, man. I help you when you’ve got a problem with your senses. Denying that would be defeating what I’m meant to do as your Guide.”

  “So … are you saying that being vulnerable depends on who you are vulnerable to?”

&
nbsp; Blair swallowed, the eyes trapped. He wasn’t dumb; he suddenly realized where this was all heading.

  “Blair, there are times when I need to do what it is that I do. To protect. To guard. That’s what you say that a Sentinel does, and I won’t deny that. That’s definitely what I feel. Denying that would be just as defeating, wouldn’t it? Denying that would be defeating what I’m meant to do as your Sentinel.”

  The younger man turned away, trying not to look at Jim or the fire. “What do you want? Do you want me to break down and cry? Because that’s where I’m heading right now, if you keep this up. I just need to work this out. I need some more space. I’m not some child who needs to be coddled.”

  “I never said that. I was talking about me here, though, Chief. Not you. I’m telling you what I need. Maybe I need to be in control here, and you need to let me. You’re the one usually in control of this Sentinel/Guide thing, and I trust you with everything that I am. Maybe I need to have a turn. What if I think I know what needs to be done right now? Are you going to trust me with that?”

  Blair looked back at him, almost staring at Jim as though he had never seen him before.

  “Do you trust me, Blair?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Jim shook his head. “Nothing I haven’t done before with you. Do you trust me?” he repeated.

  Blair’s heart was racing and the shivering was back. “Why won’t you tell me what you’re going to do?”

  “Do you ever tell me? Rarely. But I follow your instructions.” Come on, Chief. Let it go.

  “I need more information, here, Jim. Give me something more.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Blair grabbed at his head. “I’m not up to this right now. Just let me rest a bit and then we can talk, okay?”

  “Nope. We do this now. You trust me now, when you’re vulnerable, just like I have to trust you when I’m vulnerable. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Still shaking, Blair finally nodded. “I know that. I know that. It’s just … Okay. Fine. What do you want me to do?”

  “Come over here.” Jim shifted so that Blair could sit directly in front of him.