Failing Upward Ch. 12

Sid parked at the foot of the main entrance. Actually main entrance was an overly grandiose term for it, more like the main path up the steep dune to the lighthouse. It may be a state park, but it was not tourist beach. Even on perfect days, the parking lot never came near to filling and with the storm looming, it was near abandoned.

Sid threw his loafers in the back seat and locked the car. We walked up the dune; I felt the burn in my calves. A couple brushed by us as we reached the top. Sid tipped his head, cupping his hand over his eyes, capturing the height of the lighthouse. His partially covered his eyes, not from the sun, but protection from the blowing sand. I looked out and saw the storm's curtain pull toward us. It was agonizingly beautiful, dark and frightening. Sid followed behind me as I walked down to the beach.

I sat staring out at Lake Michigan on one of the granite boulders which served as breakers in front of the lighthouse. As Sid settled next to me, I felt his thighs rapt and tense against mine. The swirling clouds and the foaming waves closed together like a smudged swipe from an artist's palette. I silently counted less than one second between the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. Sid reached over and held my hand. For the first time since we came to this time, I felt sincerely happy.

The first drop of rain hit my cheek, and my eye lids fluttered as more drops caught on my lashes. I felt the wet cool sprinkle against my skin urging us to go. I haltingly stood. Sid close against me.

"Your eyes spark and foam just like the reflections on the lake," he said, his breath light against my neck.

The air was static, and his face drew closer. In slow motion his lips dabbed one chaste kiss on mine.

"I think we'd better get back to the car before we get drenched," I said, breathlessly.

It started to pour as we ran up the dune to the car. At the top Sid stopped, catching his breath as he looked down at the parking lot. There was only two cars left, Sid's and a car parked directly next to his.

"Shit," he said. "That car's familiar."

Aquamarine Buick Sky Lark with a cracked headlamp.

"Yeah. It was in the parking lot at Cherry Point," I said. "Those two girls must have followed us."

I wondered how much they saw on the beach. I was hoping for a quickie in the car. No parking now, darn. Probably wasn't a good idea for two gay guys to park in a public beach anyway-- even less wise for a horny rising rock star and his boyfriend publicity manager.

I jumped at a flash of lightning and thunder.

"That was too close," I said, running down the dune for the car.

The sky opened up. Flashes and torrents pounded us and the parking lot. My clothes were drenched, t-shirt and jeans slicked to my body like a second skin. I got to the side of the car, waiting for Sid to get in and unlock it when the door to the Buick next to me opened. I expected giggles and winks instead I got a gun in the abdomen.

Through the sheets of rain, I could barely see his face, but I could see his eyes. Same cool blue eyes.

"Trent," my voice croaked. Different parking lot, different time, but the panic inside me told me it was the same test only instead of a turn of the knife it'd be a bullet. This time I saw a flash of surprise within those cold eyes.

I knew his name.

The passenger door flew open, and Sid scrabbled out behind me, grabbing the back of my wet shirt and trying to pull me back. I bristled, waiting for the shot to rip through my gut that didn't come.

"Trent, you sorry son of a bitch," Sid choked, gulping back rain. "Leave him alone. I can tell you all you need to know. Can he heal? Does he feel? Just get the hell out of our lives."

As the rain beat at Sid, my concern turned to him.

"Get back in the car!" I hollered, reaching for the pistol. Then a rush of cutting light and pain tore my skull as Trent butted me hard with the .32, slamming me into the car, shoving Sid backward into the passenger seat.

Sid scrambled between us, grabbing for Trent's wrist. Dazed, I staggered up and swung blind at Trent, landing one lucky punch to his chin. But Trent slid his left calve around the back of mind and with one white-hot jerk, I slammed to my knees, leaving me gasping and staring up at Trent. He thrust the .32's muzzle under my chin, and grabbing a fist full of my wet hair, he snapped my head back and forth.

"God damn it, stop," Sid yelled over the thunder. "You're hurting him."

He quit yanking my hair.

"Then stay still," he said, looking from me to Sid. "And shut the hell up."

I practiced breathing techniques while wondering how this all happened. Caught again, not a soul around to see. No cell phone, not that I was in any position to call anyone right at the moment. The water from the parking lot was like one torrential river, and I was drowning in it.

"You think people aren't going to notice he's gone?" Sid asked. "You're kidnapping a rock star!"

His answer was to dig the muzzle of the gun under my chin deeper and drag me half in and half out of the car with my face pressed into Sid's. He punctuated how serious he was by banging my head into the ceiling a couple of times then bringing my eyes dead with his.

"Tell that fucking utopian Community you work for," I spat, "to bite... my... ass..."

For the second time, confusion flooded his face. Good.

"What do you know about the Community?"

"What do you want anyway?" Not an answer-- instead, I mimicked Sid's question, but in the same tone a pastor would say 'speak now or forever hold your peace.' I already knew the answer. By the way he his eyes were flickering, he knew I understood I wasn't ignorant of his intentions.

"What's your fucking mission this time? Catch the immortal? Bleed him dry?" I asked.

Judging by his reaction, I was dead on.

"Mr. Grant, I'll tell you what I want. I want you to drive, and your friend here to shut the hell up," he said as he transferred the gun from under my chin to Sid's temple.

I was getting pretty damn sick of being called Mr. Grant today. I climbed out and circled around the front of Sid's car, racking my brain for a way for us to get out of this mess. I hoped he wasn't much different than the Trent I knew. His eyes were just as cold and calculating. Still stuck on the Community as the center of his Universe. Hopefully he wasn't as fanatical about the place as the Trent I knew. Maybe I could reason with this Trent; he had the makings of a heart. After all he stopped pulling my hair for a moment when Sid yelled he was hurting me. The major obstacle was that Trent had a shit load of misplaced trust in the Community. If I could get to this Trent, maybe he'd let us go.

As I got behind the wheel, I watched Trent in the rear view mirror as he slipped into the back seat behind Sid, gun never leaving Sid's temple. My head was a bag of marbles. I needed to think, and the wind rocking the car wasn't helping.

"Where are we going?" Sid asked.

"I told you to keep him quiet," he said to me. "Drive."

I turned the ignition and put the car in reverse.

"Wes can't control my mouth. And pointing that gun at my head isn't going to shut me up unless you pull the trigger. So, where we going? The Community? Or maybe a little way station? Let me guess... does the name Shackleton fit into this?"

"All right," Trent hissed. "I want to know right now-- how you know me, and how you know about the Community and Shackleton."

"Shackleton?!" I said. "You are taking us to Shackleton!"

He said nothing. He didn't have to. God, Sid figured that out before I did.

"How do you know Shackleton?" he repeated.

Suddenly the only thing that I could see that might save us was the truth.

"We know you because we've met before," I explained.

"Fuck you. We've never met."

"Yes, we have," I said. "The Community is still hiding things from you. Why does the Community want me? Not for the reason you think. They want my blood to make the serum, but why? Because I'm different?"

I caught my breath. Better to keep talking. Tell him everything. Well, almost everything. He didn't need to know about Sid's part in all this.

"They're still keeping their real intentions hidden. Did they say how or why I'm different? I bet not, " I continued, nervously choking back a laugh. "Because I can change time. I've already done it. That's how I know you and the Community and that sorry piece of shit Shackleton."

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. You must think I'm stupid."

"Test me then if you don't believe. Since I've never been inside the Community, ask me something about the place."

"All right, easy question: how many floors does it have?"

"Five. And the lab is in the basement; it's where they make and store the serum. The loading dock is to the left of the lab. The walls are all white glossy stucco."

He was quiet for a few moments.

"That doesn't prove anything."

I tried to think of something that would make him believe. Maybe not the place, but as person--

"There's a nurse who works there; her name is Angela Bowes. Angela, like an angel, because that's what she is. She has cool blond hair and kind blue eyes. She works there because Fredrick Rogers saved her family, and she thinks she owes the Community an unrepayable debt. She bares the pain of her patients because she's afraid if she doesn't care, no one will."

The rain hitting the roof increased as I slowed the car at the stop sign. I looked in the rear view mirror at Trent. I could see him thinking, the realization hitting him.

"She believes she makes a difference to the poor immortal retches who end there," I said. "She does. I know because I was one of them. Not in this time but in another time. She and a man named Peter Deal helped me escape out of that place. She was brave to do it. Angela was the one good thing there. And I think she liked you. Actually, I think she more than liked you."

"Turn left here," he said. "That still doesn't change what I have to do. No one at the Community is obligated to tell me a thing."

I was wet and tired and afraid. As I glanced over at Sid, I caught his eyes. I needed him not to speak.

"You still don't get it?" I said to Trent, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. "Ok, then hear this. There is no fucking way you're taking me to Shackleton. The man is a psychopath. You don't know what he did to me-- what he wanted to do to me. He's insane."

My knuckles were white from squeezing the steering wheel, and I took a deep breath, but it was useless-- my voice still cracked. "The man loves his work. He gets off pulling wings off flies, and I'm his favorite fly. Christ, be merciful and unload that gun into my head now. There's no way I'm going, and there's no way in Hell I'm taking Sid to that lunatic. Might as well shoot us both."

I watched Trent's eyes, trying hard to read him as I talked. For a brief moment, I thought I was getting through.

"And get this--" I stressed. "It's bigger than just our piss ant lives. Why does he want the serum from me? Ever think on that one? Take one big fucking guess. He knows what I'm capable of. He wants to be able to do it too. He wants to play God. If you take me to him you're giving a psychopathic killer the hands of Time."

I had no choice. By the look on his face, I still hadn't reached him completely. If I had to run into a tree, flip the car end over end to stop this, I would. I watched the gun in his hand slip down as he grimaced thinking. As soon as he moved it away from Sid's head, just one more inch, I'd do it. No cars in front or behind us-- just one wet road and a car traveling over 55 mph.

There. Lower.

Away from Sid's head.

The pistol dropped down just enough. I punched the gas then locked the brakes. Leave it to Sid to have a well maintained car that didn't spin or swerve. Fuck. So I jerked the wheel. Sid and I both had our seat belts on-- Trent didn't. His body slammed against the back of my seat, and the gun went off. It took a few moments to register that it went off through the back of my seat into me.

I was dizzy and turned around. The car faced the opposite direction. I turned. Stunned, Trent held his head-- a wide flowing gash on his brow. Sid unsnapped his seatbelt and reached for the gun. Trent quietly let the .32 drop into Sid's open palm.

"Fuck that hurts," I said, poking at the exit wound in my stomach. "And you put a hole in his nice white leather seat."

Sid reached over and placed his hand on my wound-- or at least where it'd been. It was almost gone.

"Christ," Trent said. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

"That's ok. It only hurts for a while. But look at Sid's floor board; you put a hole clear through it. I think you should say you're sorry."

"You're kidding? Right?" Trent asked.

"I don't think he is," Sid said. Then bouncing the gun up and down in his hand he said, "I guess that means you're letting us go?"

"I'll tell them you got away," he said, opening the car door. "Go back to the house. Go straight there. Don't stop for anyone."

I nodded as Trent shut the door. It was drizzling. At least he wouldn't get much wetter.

"Could you drive Sid?" I asked. "I don't feel much like driving anymore."

We switched places, and as I got on the other side of the car, I looked down at my feet.

"The strudels are ok, but you broke my cookies and squished my cherries."

"At least you know what's important."

--------------------------

We sat in front of the house staring at the door, willing ourselves out the seats, but it wasn't happening. I stripped my shirt off, rolling it up into a ball not wanting to shock my sister with bloodstains and bullet holes. I wiped the blood off of me as best I could with the wet shirt. Still, I was a mess.

"I guess this changes whether or not I take the serum," Sid said.

"Why? Because of Shackleton? I don't want you taking it unless it's what you want. After what you said today, don't do it."

"After what just happened, I don't think we have any choice. I better do it."

"We can talk about it, but before you take it, we've got to have the serum."

We both stared at the front door again.

"Well," I said, "let's try slipping into the house unnoticed. I don't want to answer a bunch of questions."

We go out of the car, and I followed Sid. It was quiet inside as we crept through the door. We slipped into the laundry room, and I grabbed some dry clothes then washed up quick in the bathroom.

"Wes? Sid? Is that you?" I heard Karen call.

"Yeah," I answered. "We're all wet. We'll change and be out in a few."

We ducked into Sid's room. Throwing my goodies on Sid's dresser, I began stripping off my jeans.

"You're still carrying around that fucking strudel?" Sid asked, pulling off his shirt. "Ah, Wes? Did you see the little gift on the dresser?"

I stepped up next to him shivering. Then stopped. Serum and syringes.

"Glenda. Has to be. That's what she was up to earlier."

"Damn it, Wes."

I grabbed the strudel, untwisting the tie and reaching in. Fuck this. I needed to eat.

"We can flush it if you want," I said, ripping off a piece and eating it.

"But that's perfectly good pastry."

"I mean the serum," I laughed, licking my fingers.

"I know. I was just being a smart ass," he said. "You know... you don't have any clothes on?"

"You noticed, huh?"

"Hard not to..."

"Speaking of hard," I said, taking another bite and licking my fingers one by one, "would I be teasing you unnecessarily if I stripped off your jeans and blew you right now?"

"Jesus Wes, give me a taste of that damn strudel," he muttered, then kissed me hard on the mouth, his tongue rolling around the inside of my cheeks.

"Like 'em?" I asked.

"Mmm, good. Nice 'n tart. Just like you."

I handed him the bag and slipped my hands down his chest.

"Do you think they'll wonder what we're doing?" he asked, as I struggled with the button on the top of his jeans.

"I'm sure they know."

The snap gave, and I unzipped him with one jerk. He jeans were cold and wet, and stuttered down his ass and thighs. He kicked out of them. I was cold and clammy, shivering and shaking-- chilled clear through from both rain and fright. I let my body flatten into his, seeking heat. I needed him near me. My mind tumbled and shuddered like the rest my body. I wanted the security of his heart beating through my chest.

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked. He nodded. God, what a perfect fit, sliding ridged and locked.

"I want you," he said, reaching for the back of my head. "This is right, so right. Gimme another taste, cherry boy--"

As Sid sampled my mouth one more time, I heard the plastic bag hit the floor, and I knelt down after the strudel.

He clutched at my hair. I needed his warmth, still chilled from the recent horrors. I let my mind get drunk on Sid to escape. The whole fucking mess that went down in the car didn't exist for a while. Just us. His taste and feel kept me free. It didn't matter if he wasn't with me forever as long as he still loved me.

That I couldn't stand. If he stopped loving me. Flush the serum. I needed Sid, his caress, his sighs, his heat, his cock in my mouth, not his eternal soul. I felt his thighs tense, his breathing shorten. His fingers knotted in my hair; his legs giving in, swaying. His hip bones pressed against my thumbs as I steadied him.

Slowly I came back to where I was. I could hear voices in the other room. I heard my name. My skin prickled. Someone else was calling me, not Sid. Shaky and limp, he knelt down in front of me, breathing ragged and satisfied.

I smiled.

"I swear," Sid said, kissing me. "Your mouth is almost as perfect as your eyes. Almost."

"Yeah, but could my eyes make you come like these lips just did?"

Karen was knocking at the door.

"Come on you two," she said. "Enough. Come out here."

I giggled, rubbing my bony knee into his.

"I guess I can't return the favor just yet," Sid said. "Why don't we try that thing with your eyes later? See if you can open your legs as wide as those blue eyes of yours and wrap them all around me."

I smiled helplessly as he pulled me to my feet and slapped my ass.

"Now, get dressed," he said.

As I sat on the bed fastening my jeans, all our troubles flooded back to me. Trent. Shackleton. The serum. I looked up to see Sid standing by the dresser. Even in the quiet of his bedroom, we couldn't escape. -----------------

I was feeling pretty cocky.

We'd been playing Euchre, and Sid and I thoroughly kicked Karen and Alan's asses-- and we were doing a supreme job wiping up the floor with Les and Smith. And now I had a near perfect hand in hearts if I could just get the chance to call trump. Sid was whistling off key and making bedroom eyes at me. Along with the five Becks I'd guzzled, I was feeling as tipsy and giddy as a teenager in love.

"Pass," Les said, scratching his chin stubble.

"I think that's some kind of signal," Sid quipped. "Don't you think that's some kind of signal?"

"Yeah, I do," I said, throwing Sid a kiss on the sly.

"Better than your signals--" Les came back. "At least ours aren't so obvious."

"If they're so bad, then why are we winning?" Sid asked, winking at me as he rapped on the table.

"I saw that! He passed after he gave Wes a signal!" Les jumped up, scamming a look at my hand. "And... and... it wasn't even foreplay!"

"I don't believe that. Look at Sid smiling," Smith said, his snapping his cards with his thumb. "Sid's just happy he's gonna get laid later."

After the shitty day we'd just had, I liked the way Sid ducked and blushed his head behind the cards in his hands; it warmed my soul along with other parts of me- but every so often, I'd catch him frowning. Thinking about today, no doubt. I found myself remembering it too. Sid's chair creaked as he squirmed around. I could see he was thinking too much again-- and not about his cards. I took another bite of cherry strudel and carefully licked each finger. Not good to have sticky cards. That took the frown off his face. I sighed-- strudel almost gone. That's the problem with sharing-- Alan had devoured almost the whole second one.