Trent opened his eyes.

Something was wrong, but he couldn't really figure out what. Everything felt distant and hazy. And good. He felt pretty good.

He felt sort of stoned, but more intense.

Something was beeping regularly nearby.

He caught a whiff of antiseptics, that extremely distinct 'hospital' smell and immediately it set him on edge. Something was definitely wrong. The ceiling he was looking up at was completely unfamiliar. What the hell was happening?

Someone was snoring softly nearby.

Trent sat up slowly. His head swam and he became aware of pain. On his leg and his head. It was vague, but there, distant almost.

Looking down, he saw that he had an IV plugged into his arm.

Trent slowly looked around, blinking, confusion mounting. He was in a hospital room. He saw Mae nearby, on a small couch, passed out. The sun was shining through the window, it seemed like early morning sun.

As he was looking around, the sliding glass door that led out of the room slid open and Bea stepped in. She froze in the middle of closing the door as she laid eyes on him.

"You're awake!" she whispered loudly, then finished closing the door and hurried over. "Holy shit, you scared the shit out of me."

"Uh...what happened?" Trent replied.

"You got shot. In the leg. But you're going to be fine," Bea said as she came over. "The Chief of Police is dead."

"Yeah, I remember...Molly shot him…" Trent looked down, then slowly pulled back the blanket. All he had on was a pair of boxers beneath it. He could a bulge of bandages on the outside of his left thigh, where the pain was coming from. "Holy crap. I was shot…"

"It wasn't too bad," Bea said. "It basically took a chunk of flesh out, but I've been talking with some doctors. You'll need to spend some time in the hospital recovering, and you'll have to take it easy for awhile, but you won't have any, like, nerve damage or lose mobility or anything like that. Basically just think of it as a brutal cut...God I'm so fucking glad you're awake."

She came to stand beside the bed and took his hand. He smiled groggily. "That's a lot of words," he murmured.

"Oh, right. The morphine. You're on morphine right now."

"It's amazing…" He blinked a few times. "Oh God, don't tell Ann. This is like...um...it's her thing. She had trouble with."

Bea laughed softly. "You're sweet for worrying, but Ann will understand. She's been by already. So has Mae's mom and dad, and Gregg and Angus."

Trent stared at her for a few seconds as he sorted that out. "Um...wait, how long have I been here? Did they all come in like a few hours or something?"

"You've been pretty out of it for the better part of a day now," Bea replied.

"Whoa...shit. Wait, really? It's tomorrow?"

She giggled softly and shook her head. "You're really cute when you're stoned. Yes, it's tomorrow. Yesterday was when you were shot. It's been about twenty four hours or so."

He looked over at Mae, who was still passed out. "Mae's okay, right? And Molly?"

"Yes, you're the only one who got injured. Mae was...freaking out there for a bit. She was almost inconsolable. Me and her mom and Molly had to almost physically hold her back from barging into the room when they were stitching you up. You'll need to be on painkillers and antibiotics for a bit, to prevent infection, I think, but you should be fine. I should probably go get a doctor or nurse or something."

"Would you wake Mae?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Wait, Bea?"

"Yeah?" she asked, pausing by the foot of the bed.

"I love you. Like...a lot."

She smiled and blushed, then came around the other side of the bed and kissed him. "I love you too, Trent." She paused. "Did you seriously just rush the guy? Molly and Mae both said that's how you got shot."

"Yeah, I just...I don't know. He was going to kill and torture us. I had to stop him. Although I guess I kinda fucked it up…"

"No, actually, Molly said you seriously took one for the team. She said she would've had almost no opening if you hadn't rushed and distracted him. She said you basically saved everyone's life there, even if you got shot in the process. So...you're a hero. You saved your girlfriend's and her aunt's lives," she explained.

He grinned. "Does it bother you much that turns you on?"

She let out a huff. "Who says it's turning me on?"

"You do. You're all 'OMG you're a hero I'm so wet'," he replied, laughing. "I can hear it."

"Oh my fucking-you are so lucky you're in a goddamned hospital bed," Bea growled. "Jerk."

"I'm sorry...I'm just teasing."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I know. Whatever." She began turn away but then stopped and turned back, growing more serious. She glanced quickly to the door, then leaned down and lowered her voice. "Trent, they lied about how you got shot. Said that you and Mae were out in the woods outside of town, fucking around, and that a hunter shot you on accident, but you didn't see who. Okay? That's the story we're all going with."

"What...why?" he asked.

"Because Mae doesn't want any of us to be officially involved in this. It'll cause too many problems. Molly agreed with her and she's basically telling them she launched her own private investigation when she found hard evidence of Baxter's...insanity. I don't know what all's happening right now, Molly is dealing with it, but that's the story. Okay?"

"Fine by me," he said, "I want this to be fucking done."

"It's not done, not yet...but the worst has passed. I think," Bea replied. "Okay, I'll get Mae and then a nurse."

"Kay."

Bea went and woke Mae, who took awhile but came awake instantly when it was conveyed to her that Trent was awake. She rushed over to the bed.

"You're okay! You're awake!" she cried.

"Shh!" Bea snapped as she headed for the door. "It's a hospital, Mae. And be careful with him."

"I will!" Mae replied, but she was already crawling on to the bed.

Trent groaned as he shifted to make room for her.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I just missed you so much. I was so fucking scared," she said.

"It's fine," he replied, "come on, lay down."

Mae shifted around carefully until she was stretched out beside him beneath the blankets as well. She hugged him tightly.

"You're okay," she whispered. And then whispered it again.

"I'm okay...I'm also kinda...uh...out of it," he replied.

"Oh yeah, you're on morphine."

"Is that why I slept so long? I don't even know why I passed out…"

"Molly said shock, and then you lost a lot of blood, and then the morphine when we finally got you to the hospital. You came awake a few times, but you were so out of it I don't think you even remember any of that."

"I don't," he replied.

"What I figured. How do you feel?"

"My head hurts, my leg hurts, but just a little. Otherwise I'm okay."

"Yeah, you also hit your head when you passed out. But they did a scan and you don't have any, like, cracks in your skull, or bleeding in your brain. So did Bea tell you about, like, the official story?" she asked.

"Yeah, she did. Uh, so everyone's okay? I mean, what about the other cult members?"

"Molly's dealing with it right now, but I don't really know how. She said she'll be in touch. So just, uh, you know, keep that in mind if they ask any questions."

"I will...ugh, there's still so much to do, isn't there?" he groaned.

"Yeah, but we'll take care of it. Honestly, I think the worst is over."

"I hope so."

A moment later, Bea reappeared with a nurse, who checked out the equipment he was hooked up to, and asked him some questions, and then left. A little while later, a doctor came in and asked him more questions, checked over the machines again, and then told him pretty much the same thing that Bea and Mae had told him, though with a bit more precision.

He was going to have to stay in the hospital for another week or so, and that he'd have to keep the wound clean, and need to be on a round of antibiotics for a bit, and painkillers, and he'd have to take it easy for several weeks afterwards, and come back to visit a few times to make sure it was healing up properly and get the stitches out.

Given that he was still in a morphine haze, Trent didn't have much reaction to it. He knew he was supposed to be upset, and he was, to a certain degree, but it was hard to be upset when you felt this good.

After the doctor left, it was quiet for a few long moments.

"Um...so how inappropriate would it be to say that I'm like really horny right now and I want to do it with one or both of you?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence that was just long enough to make Trent wonder if he'd really said the wrong thing, when both women started laughing.

"Wow dude, you are stoned," Bea said.

"Close the blinds," Mae replied, "and lock the door."

"Seriously, Mae?!" Bea asked.

"Seriously, Bea," Mae replied.

Bea sighed. "Well, he did get shot...just be careful."

"You be careful, I'm not doing him by myself," Mae replied.

"Fine," Bea said locking the door and closing the blinds, "we'll take turns. But for real, be careful."

"You two are the best girlfriends ever," he murmured as Mae took off her shirt and Bea walked back over and pulled back the blanket.

"We know," she replied with a sly grin. She joined Mae in getting undressed.

He fell asleep not long after Mae and Bea had had their way with him.

Then he woke up to a meal being served, and found that hospital food was as bad as everyone complained it was.

Mae and Bea hung out with him all the rest of the day, and Mae spent the night, while Bea had to get back home to her father, who was demanding some answers. They had agreed to say that the crisis had been about Mae, that she was having anxiety attacks, which was something her father would both buy and also not ask too many questions about, because anything mental health related made him uncomfortable.

Trent wondered what Mae's dad had told him a few nights ago, and how much it would sync up with this story, but it was out of his hands.

The next day, they dialed back the morphine and though he was in a bit more pain, he was less hazy and more coherent. Molly came to visit while Mae was gone for a bit, her parents having dropped by for a brief visit in the morning and then taking her home to shower and catch up. She had promised to be back before long.

Molly was back in her uniform.

"Hello, Trent," she said as she stepped in, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot," he replied, "although it's not too bad right now. How are you?"

"Physically, I'm fine," she said. "I'm still, uh...I've never had to kill anyone before."

"I'm sorry...they told me you said I did the right thing, but I haven't heard that from you. Did I? Or was that stupid and you were just being nice?" he asked.

She laughed and came to stand at the foot of the bed. "It was stupid, but I wasn't just being nice. It was brave, and stupid, and really dangerous. You could have died. But honestly, he's a faster draw than I am. If you hadn't done that, I probably would've gotten myself shot instead. Honestly, besides you being shot, it couldn't have gone down better. Turns out, Baxter was paranoid of his fellow cult members. He had a lot of evidence of what was going down, I'm sure he was prepared to threaten them with blackmail if they ever turned on him, or maybe he was going to make a bid for control? Don't know, don't care."

"So what's actually happening?" he asked.

"The FBI is involved. They really hate cults, especially murder cults. And Internal Affairs is involved, too. They're doing a sweep of the whole department and several arrests have been made. The guy who ran the Ham Panther, Becket, Mr. Scriggins and his wife, everyone on that list of yours and a few others. Two cops, one of Becket's employees, we're still trying to root everything out. They were in the process of recruiting new blood. One of the business guys skipped town. Skipped the country, apparently. He's in Russia now, far as they can tell. I'm kind of the interim Police Chief and I might end up with the job."

"Wow. That's...a big step up," Trent said. "How do you feel about that?"

"Honestly? Good. I mean, it'll be a headache, and if what you and Mae have told me about this Black Goat thing is true, then I'll be presiding over a slowly dying town, but I can do some good. Help people who need it. Get a few programs off the ground, maybe. I don't know, but I intend to do the job well if it's passed my way. Anyway, uh...I'm sure Mae and Bea told you that I opted to keep all of you out of it."

"Yep. I appreciate that."

"I thought you would. I'm not exactly what you'd call a glory-seeker, but it honestly works out best this way. People like a good narrative, and the narrative I've been able to spin, that I pretty much single-handedly rooted out a festering evil cult in our little town of Possum Springs, and killed the cult leader, they think he's the leader, or want to pretend like he is, but whatever, it's easier to swallow that. You give people a hero, they tend to accept it. The official story is that I was suspended for nosing around, which is true, and did some investigative work on my own, and ultimately went to confront Baxter in his home about it when I gathered enough evidence, and he forced my hand when he tried to kill me."

"There's...some holes in that story, I imagine," Trent replied.

She nodded. "Yep. Your blood at the scene, a few testimonies that don't match, the fact that your great-uncle's name was on the list, but as much as I hate nepotism...I know the guy in charge of this investigation. He actually grew up in Briddle, we went through training together, we're good friends. He's...helping me smooth all this over. They really want to just come in and cut out the cult like the cancer it is, make sure they get everyone involved. It's gonna be a process, but since most of them were killed in that cave-in, and we got all this evidence...well, most of the work is already done."

Something abruptly occurred to Trent. "Hey...so, do you have a definitive list of who all they killed?" he asked.

"No, unfortunately not. We can piece some of it together, and some we have hard evidence of, but a lot of the victims seem to have been drifters and hobos that rode the trains into town, who rarely had family to speak of, no legal place of residence, no one we can ask about. Why do you ask?"

He sighed. "Mae's best friend Casey...they killed him. They admitted it. And she and her friends batted around what to tell Casey's parents, because they think he's missing, but they also think that maybe he just hopped a train out of Possum Springs. At the start of this, she and Gregg decided to just lie to them, tell them that that's what he did, and he's out there somewhere. If you could maybe not tell them…"

Molly sighed softly and looked down. "Yeah," she said, her voice low, "that's...probably for the best. Not normally a call I'd make, but this situation...is so screwed up...yeah. It'll take several weeks for the dust to settle, and months for everything to completely finish shaking out, I imagine, but theoretically, you and Mae and her friends should all be in the clear. Although she's told me that there's more she has to do that I may have to help with, and that help may involve looking the other way, which is also something I'd normally never do, but…"

"But this is to put a stop to an evil god," Trent said.

She sighed. "I don't even want to talk about it. I'm not even sure I actually believe it. But at this point...I trust Mae, and I trust you, and I certainly trust Bea. So I trust hunting down these...totems, figurines, whatever, is for the best. But after that...I'm not looking the other way if any of you ever get up to any real criminal activity. I want to be clear on that."

"I believe you, and honestly, I don't intend on hurting anyone."

Molly stared at him for a moment. "I notice that was a rather specific statement."

He sighed. "Let's just say that I don't intend to harm anyone, or steal anything, or cause any problems. I think you, of all people, understand the spirit of the law versus the letter of the law."

"I do...but I'd say don't always count on that," she replied.

"Fair deal," he said.

She looked at him for a long time, then a small smile finally came onto her face. "I was always scared that Mae was going to end up with some abusive or manipulative asshole. I've seen it too many times, and she's...unique. And vulnerable, as much as she doesn't think she is. I know she's tough, but I've seen too many tough women end up in abusive relationships, and it always kills me. But I'm so glad she ended up with someone like you. I could be wrong, but you seem like you'll take good care of her."

"I will," he replied simply.

She nodded. "Well, I should go. There's still so much to do. We're heading back into the mines soon, to look for more evidence. I'll let you know if there's anything that you should know about, and…" she hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "If you or Mae need anything from me, could you ask me in person, somewhere private? No emails, no texts, nothing over the phone or in earshot of anyone else. Please? It would make my job a lot easier."

"I understand, and I'll pass the message along. Discreetly."

"I appreciate it. And, again, I just want to be clear, outside of this business with the cult, I will not be engaging in any clandestine activities. Got it?"

"Got it," Trent replied.

"Thank you. I'll speak with you later."

And then she walked out of the room and was gone.

Trent settled in his bed a bit more comfortably, and continued trying to sort out everything that had happened to him so far.

Because it felt like more had happened to him since moving to Possum Springs just one month ago, than had in the past decade of his life.

The rest of the week was a mixed bag.

The good news was that he got a visit from basically everyone at one point or another, and they all felt like good, genuine visits. Not like 'I have to do this or I'll feel guilty' visits, which honestly surprised him, given he was so new to this town.

Mae rarely left his side, and stayed with him through most of it.

Ann and Bea obviously came to visit a lot.

Mae's parents stopped by several times, as did Gregg and Angus.

Mae's teacher Mr. Chazokov came to visit and they had a three-hour conversation about the stars and the solar system and a really cool trilogy of sci-fi books about colonizing Mars.

Germ, his parents, his uncles, and some of his sisters and cousins, and even his grandmother came to visit, which was a surreal experience.

Ann's mother and, of all people, even Bea's father paid a visit, which was far more surreal.

That was probably just the best word he could use to describe his stay in the hospital: surreal. Although it occurred to him, suddenly, as he was changing into the clothes that Mae had brought him and preparing to go home, that he was going to have a monster hospital bill. Something he wasn't looking forward to dealing with.

And then, after that, another week passed, because although he was out of the hospital, Trent was still down for the count.

Practically everything he did hurt. Walking hurt. Standing up hurt. Sitting down hurt. Shifting the wrong way hurt. He'd dodged having to walk with crutches but they had given him a cane to help support his weight for a bit and he'd actually taken to that because it reminded him so much of House. And because of all that, he ended up doing a whole lot of nothing, and hearing about a whole lot of something from everyone else.

Mae, all their friends, her parents, and even Germ's family, and a couple of times Molly, spent those two weeks gathering up the rest of the totems. The first week Germ's family had proven themselves quite capable as they got inside intel on just about everyone. Where they lived, what cars they drove, when they were home, what kind of schedules they kept. And when Mae finally stopped spending all her time in the hospital with Trent, she started executing the plans that everyone had put together.

And Trent got to go on none of them.

It wasn't that he exactly enjoyed breaking into people's houses, but it really started to get to him because Mae and their friends were out there risking their lives each time they did it. Every time they went out he was a ball of anxiety, terrified of getting a phone call that they'd been captured, hurt, or worse. Usually Ann or Bea kept him company, sometimes Gregg or Angus or both came to hang out with him, and it definitely helped, but he felt anxious and more than that, guilty. Because he was supposed to be out there with them, sharing the risk.

There was the additional worry that someone else was going to break into his house, or someone else's houses, and everyone was anxious about their own safety or the safety of their loved ones.

To make matters worse, he couldn't really concentrate on damn near anything while he was at home. It felt like he was stuck in some sort of stasis, like he was just waiting, and it was nearly impossible to get anything done beyond the most basic of tasks. He still felt the urge to write, but the most he could keep himself occupied with was his Demontower fan fiction.

Apparently the first one was old enough that the guy who made it had released it for free, so Trent had played through it before staring this project and was surprised by how much lore there was if you went looking. For whatever reason, the old dark fantasy-horror vibe that the game permeated gelled with him really well. He kept making progress, but it felt stunted and awkward, and he wondered if the writing was turning out like shit.

It sure felt like it.

But he supposed Mae would probably let him know if there was some drop in quality and ultimately he wasn't too concerned. He took fan fiction seriously enough, but he also doubted few people beyond Mae and Angus were going to read it. He was still toying around with the idea of posting it to a website but that was for the future.

Beyond that and some basic chores around the house, all he really did was play the old games that he'd bought from Angus. Knights of the Old Republic had actually taken his mind off of things and Ann had become pretty enraptured by it, so it became their thing. He played, she watched. It was a lot of fun to get to experience it with someone who had never even heard of it.

But finally, this part of the whole fiasco came to a close.

Mae and Gregg returned from the very last break in, with the last totem, and burned it without issue.

And so that was how, almost a week after his release from the hospital, Trent found himself preparing to help dig up a lot of graves.