Tenebrous
Summary: A heartbreaking case will pull at the very fabric of the Sheriff's Department and ensnare Vic and Walt into a dangerous game with an unlikely suspect. Takes place in the same universe as "Incendiary" and in a time frame that is after that story.
Tenebrous: 1) shut off from the light 2) hard to understand 3) causing gloom
Ch. 1: Shadows
The dry grass and fallen brown leaves crackled and disintegrated under the weight of the well-worn, brown boots. The wearer of the boots paid little attention to the sound or the effects. There were bigger problems to deal with, more important matters at hand. In the darkness of the trees and without a viable source of light, all that could be seen was a shadowy figure that lent itself to phantoms and the haunters of dreams.
Of course, it was neither of those things. But, under the thick screen of tree branches overhead, the light of the moon was filtered to a thin, spotty beam that did little to illuminate the man. He wasn't very tall, but also not short. There was nothing particularly imposing about this size. On the contrary, in the shadows, he wasn't physically frightening at all. But, he moved in a manner that suggested he was accustomed to moving around in the dark. He was confident and lithe in his mannerisms.
On a closer inspection, he was thin, but not in a way that suggested weakness. No, his was a body that spoke of an unexpected strength, clearly toned by hard work and a rough lifestyle. His body was hard with arms that were sinewy and possessed a power that few really saw coming when he gripped someone's hand or when his temper boiled over.
The man moved quickly and efficiently. The modest looking pickup he drove down the bumpy dirt road was backed up to the spot he had chosen specifically for this trip. This was not an easy thing. To pretend that it was would be an insult and a breech of something sacred. In truth, he never wanted it to come to this and he hoped that it never would again. There were those who deserved a certain amount of wrath. But, there were also those who were merely unintentional victims of the darkness that seemed to shadow his world.
The shovel in his hand made a familiar sound as he traced it over the ground in the spot where he intended to dig. The metal over dirt was something he heard frequently in his life in a myriad of circumstances, not all bad. With one strong thrust, he pushed the pointed edge of the shovel into the dirt and it gave way under the force. With a practiced method, he repeated the move over and over as the area that he was digging out became larger and larger.
The minutes ticked on by and he knew that he was making good time. That's why he was the one who was chosen. He was good at this aspect of life. Hard work was something he was more than a little familiar with and he never complained about it.
The night around him was cool, but the work made him feel warm. The t-shirt he wore was sufficient for such a task and he didn't bother to grab his jacket from the cab of the truck where he left it bunched up.
Finally, he stopped and surveyed his work. It looked satisfactory. The size seemed right. He walked back over to his truck and slid the shovel horizontally into the bed of the truck with little thought. His truck was as used to labor as he was. For a moment, he simply stood and studied the wrapped up bundle that was laid carefully near the shovel in the back of the truck.
Reaching up, he grasped it firmly and pulled. Unlike his handling of the shovel, there was a gentles and caution to his movements now. There was no reason to be rough. Not with this task. A certain amount of somberness and care was appropriate. Once he was certain that he had a good grip on the bundle he hauled it fully into his arms. Turning, he carefully lowered it into the hole that he dug.
It settled in like and came to rest in what he hoped would be its final spot. There was no way of knowing that, of course. This type of situation was volatile at best, fluid. He might not have the best education, but he wasn't stupid by any means. He knew this could take a bad turn and that he could be pulled into something he wanted no part of.
He stood and looked down into the hole. It felt like a part of himself was lying there in the dirt. Maybe, it was in a lot of ways. He didn't consider himself a bad person, but he knew there were those who would disagree with that assessment. Those would see him as the villain of the story.
He knew better. He didn't believe in fairy tales. He never had, not even when he was a young boy. Fantasy and imagination accomplished nothing. His was an existence that was based in reality, a dark reality that seemed inescapable. He dreamed, sometimes, of a different life. Of a different place where no one knew him and he was free. But, he always pushed those thoughts out of his mind and forced himself to focus.
Nothing was served by dreaming.
Nothing ever was.
He swallowed and retrieved the shovel from his truck. He filled the hole much the same way he dug it. Methodically and without stopping. His muscles were starting to feel the strain of his task, but the experience was nearly over now. His timing was good. There were still a few hours until daylight. He knew that the darkness was his friend and his ally.
His accomplice, even.
Finally, his task was complete and he looked around with a sense of satisfaction that mixed with the dread he always felt in situations like these. But, what was done was done and there was no sense in lingering on it. He again slid the shovel into his truck, took his seat behind the wheel of his truck, and drove away.
xxx
Walt Longmire walked out onto his front porch and took in the morning that was waking up around him. He was dressed as he did most days in jeans and a denim work shirt. His boots were the same scuffed ones he always wore. They felt like an extension of himself and he hated having to buy new ones. In his hand, he held a cup of coffee that had a wisp of smoking drifting up from the hot liquid. He raised the cup and took a sip, his eyes roaming the land around him. His land.
It was a perfect fall morning and he knew there wouldn't be many more like it. The weather could turn on a dime in Wyoming. One day, you were enjoying the transition of summer to autumn and the next, the news was forecasting a blizzard. It was simply the way it was. Walt had leaned to appreciate the here and the now and to not focus on the what might be.
The sky overhead was a promising blue with barely a visible cloud. There wouldn't be any rain today and that would be a welcome change. The week before, they faced several torrential downpours that managed to bog down life in Absaroka County. He didn't mind some rain, but the blue skies were a welcome change.
He heard the screen door open behind him with an identifiable creak. Then, it banged shut. Vic always let the door bang, never holding it until it closed quietly. It was a testament to the lack of patience and the restlessness that were hallmarks of her personality. The sound didn't make him jump. He anticipated it.
He didn't have to turn his head to know that she was dressed for work, at least partially. He heard the scuffle of her boots on the wooden planks of the porch. Unlike the old porch, this one replaced, the boards were not yet worn with age and the elements of Wyoming weather.
"What're you doing?"
There was amusement in her tone. She stepped up beside him and appeared in his peripheral vision. Walt took another sip from his coffee cup and turned his eyes to her. He was right. She wore her work jeans and her uniform shirt. He was also correct in that her uniform shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the gray thermal shirt she wore with the cooler weather.
"Thinking."
Vic studied him. For all her teasing him about the way he could focus on something with such quiet intensity, she possessed a laser focus that many found intimidating. He was even willing to admit that he sometimes found her undivided attention unsettling, even after all they had been through. He wasn't sure what aspect of it was so effective in making others squirm. It could be the sharpness in her gaze and the way it was obvious her mind was working. Vic was one of the most readable people that he knew. She rarely bothered to hide what she was thinking, unless it was necessary in her line of work. It could also be her eyes. Her eyes were a subject of endless fascination for Walt. They were incredibly expressive, showing her clear intelligence and also her ever changing moods. Fittingly, the color was also always changing based on the light she was in or the clothes she wore.
Right now, standing on the porch and looking his way, they seemed dark. But, if she took a few steps into the yard, he knew they would be an entirely different color. Brighter and much more golden.
"Don't strain yourself."
She smiled when she said it, but she was still roving her eyes across his face. Searching and seeking. It's what she did. What they both did. Even with his retirement and the calmer, more quiet life they now led.
Mostly.
Walt blinked and realized he was staring at her. It drove her crazy when he did that and she didn't bother to keep that secret. Vic leaned on the porch rail and rested her arms on the wood. She turned her eyes away from him and towards the mountains that were visible in the distance, snow already visible at higher altitudes. The lines of her face eased.
"About what?"
That was a complicated question. He thought about everything. Overthought as far as Vic was concerned. He thought about needing to take the horses out for exercise and brush them out with their thickening coats. He thought about how he needed to patch the bottom left corner of the screen door where Vic had accidentally snagged it while using her foot to open it. That one earned him an apologetic look as the door wasn't even that old. But, he didn't mind. Life was for living and not preserving. He would rather have a patched-up door than one that never opened and closed with regularity.
It was all about perspective.
But, that wasn't what she was asking him. That was the same things he thought about every day. There was nothing new there. She knew that. She knew most of the thoughts that filtered through his mind on a daily basis.
"The job Henry offered me."
Vic turned so that she was facing him and kept one arm on the railing.
"Job is a strong word, Walt. It's a weekend gig that's really more of a favor than anything."
He nodded slowly.
"Yeah."
Vic sighed and tilted her head.
"What? I can hear you thinking?"
Walt shrugged.
"It's not the job. It's the reasons behind it."
Understanding crossed her face.
"I know. It sucks. But, it's unfortunately reality. And, with you around, they might not need us as much."
Walt took in her words. There was truth in them. She knew him well and no one could dispute that. The reality that she spoke of was the growing numbers of outsiders in Absaroka and Durant. The casino had turned into a popular tourist destination. Tourists brought money with them and they spent it. In large sums. But, the influx of out of towners created an increase in trouble. Many were perfectly fine, happy to spend their hours trying their luck at gambling. But, there were those who crowded into local bars intent on having a drink too many and the result was often out of hand.
It was one of the reasons Walt opposed the casino since its inception years ago as a brainchild of Jacob Nighthorse. Admittedly with Henry at the helm, the atmosphere was safer and more well maintained, but there was no way to weed out all the bad apples. For whatever reason, the Red Pony seemed a focal point, maybe due to its popularity amongst the local population. Henry prided himself on his business practices. He always had. He tried to keep a presence at the bar, but the ever-increasing demands of the casino, that wasn't always possible. He had good people running the place. Individuals he trained himself. But, he wanted more. He wanted a type of low-key security. Someone who knew how to handle themselves in unpredictable situations and had the ability to defuse or remove when necessary.
Walt fit the bill and Henry only hired people that he trusted.
He wasn't opposed to helping Henry out and it never hurt to earn extra money. Still, it put him in a somber mood when he thought about how much his small corner of Wyoming had changed over the years. Vic was indulgent of his nostalgia, but also quick to point out that Absaroka was still safer than most places on the map. But, she was from Philadelphia and grew up in an urban environment where higher crime rates were just the norm.
"Yeah."
Vic reached out and curled her fingers around is wrist, giving it a tug.
"C'mon. Snap out of it. Have breakfast with me."
Walt smiled at her insistence that he not brood. That's the part she didn't say. Walt nodded and followed her inside. He set his half empty coffee cup on the table.
"Want me to cook something?"
Vic shook her head at his offer.
"No, I'm having oatmeal. Want some?"
Walt took her up on the suggestion and made himself a bowl as well. Seated at the table, she stirred her spoon through the thick mixture, the brown sugar she added disappearing into her sweetened concoction.
It the light of the kitchen, he could see her better than under the shade of the covered porch. A twinge of guilt pulled at him that he had become so mired down in his own matters. Things that were trivial when put into perspective. There was a faint hint of dark circles under her eyes and her face was lined with stress, no doubt thinking about the day ahead of her. He knew she was busy at work. With the imminent birth of Ferg's son drawing closer every day, the younger deputy was missing work due to doctor's appointments and preparations for the baby. On top of that, Cady was currently sidelined with a shoulder injury gained from an ill-timed step chasing a suspect.
The move resulted in her needed surgery and the timing was unfortunate. He doctor was taking a conservative approach to her recovery much to Cady's impatience and the result was stretching the rest of the department thin. Vic stepped in as acting Sheriff, although she refused to use that title. Walt knew the job was one that she didn't want. Not at this point in her life. The current situation was borne more out of necessity than anything and Vic was anxious for Cady to return and for their work life to reach something resembling normal again.
In a nutshell, she was tired and he had neglected to see that. Vic would brush off his concerns. She did it frequently, but he could see the strain on her features and in the way she always seemed to be out of energy in the evenings and in the mornings.
Worrying about him and his worries was the last thing that she needed.
"How's Ferg?"
Vic looked up at his sudden question.
"Nervous. I swear the closer it gets, the more nervous he gets."
Walt smiled, remembering his own path down the road to first time fatherhood.
"That's normal. No one is ever ready to be a parent, no matter what they think."
Vic gave him a wistful smile and looked back down at her bowl.
"He and Meg are fighting about childcare."
Walt took a drink from his coffee cup.
"Fighting?"
Vic shrugged.
"Maybe not fighting exactly. Strongly disagreeing."
She raised her eyes again.
"About?"
Vic set her spoon down, her bowl mostly empty.
"Ferg wants Meg to only work part time for a while. He doesn't want the baby in daycare."
Walt dipped his head a little.
"It's how he was raised."
Vic traced her finger around the rim of her own coffee cup.
"Fair enough, but Meg isn't his mom and this is the twenty-first century. If she wants to work, then he's gonna have to work with her on it and accept that she doesn't want to stay home."
"Yes, he is."
Vic gave him a suspicious look.
"Really? That's it? For some reason, I thought you would be more on Ferg's side."
"Well, you're right. They're gonna have to comprise and find a solution that works. For that to happen, they're gonna need to make concessions. That's how it works."
Vic smiled a little.
"Martha stayed home with Cady."
"She did. That was what she wanted."
"So…if she had wanted to work…you would've been okay with it?"
She sounded skeptical. Walt smiled.
"I don't know. I was different then. Times were different. Daycare wasn't always cost effective and more women stayed home. Your mother stayed home."
Vic snorted at his example.
"My mother had five children, a husband who worked all the time, and a questionable hold on her sanity and patience. Our house was…fucking pandemonium. At best."
Walt laughed at her comment. Her point was valid. He was an only child and so was Cady. He wasn't familiar with the workings of the type of family that Vic was raised in. A family of seven. Vic stood up and carried her bowl to the sink. She set it down and filled it with water before turning back to him.
"I got to get to work."
Walt nodded and stood up, depositing his own bowl alongside hers. Vic buttoned her shirt as she walked into the living room and collected her gun holster, cuffs, and badge, attaching them all to her belt.
She grabbed up her jacket and her laptop bag, hefting it onto her shoulder. She paused in front of him and offered him a smile.
"I'll see you later."
Walt leaned in and kissed her. Vic lingered in the contact before she pulled away. Walt cleared his throat, his chest warming up from her physical closeness.
"Be careful."
Vic's chin dipped in a partial nod.
"I'm always careful."
xxx
Vic slumped into her chair and let her head fall back. Ferg looked up from his work and eyed her across their desks. Ruby was at lunch and Zach was out at the scene of an accident directing traffic while the cars were moved.
"Something wrong?"
Vic used her feet to turn her chair a bit in his direction.
"Yeah, why in the hell do people going twenty over think they don't deserve a ticket? Why toss around so much attitude like I'm the one in the wrong for pulling your ass over?"
Ferg shook his head.
"Beats me. If you figure it out, let me know."
Vic lifted her head and looked out the partially open blinds.
"On the bright side, if he calls to complain, he'll be complaining to me about me."
Ferg smiled at her comment.
"Right. At least, for another couple of weeks. Cady still on track?"
Vic pushed out a sigh.
"Now, she is. God, I am counting the days. This being in charge shit is for the birds."
Ferg dropped his pen on his desk.
"Speaking of being in charge, do you mind if I leave a little early today? Meg is meeting with her doula and she wants me to come this time. I'm really trying to stay on her good side these days."
Vic shook her head a little.
"No. Go. How are things?"
She could tell by the look that crossed his face that the answer to her question was complex.
"Meg and the baby are both good. Her last checkup was good."
Vic stretched out her legs in front of her and crossed her ankles, her gaze settling firmly on Ferg.
"Okay, first of all, you know that's not what I mean. Second, you used the word good twice. Like, everything is good."
Ferg shifted in his chair.
"We had another argument last night. Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"
Vic tapped one leg on her thigh, clearly thinking about her answer.
"Want my honest opinion or…what?"
Ferg propped his arms on his desk and leaned in. He knew from experience that her honest opinion was just that. Honest. Sometimes, even brutally honest. It was part of the package that was Vic. In the beginning, he struggled with her sharpness and her bluntness. But over time, he grew to appreciate it.
"Yes, your honest opinion."
Vic cleared her throat.
"You gotta get your head out of your ass and give on this one."
"What's wrong with me wanting what's best for my son?"
Vic shook her head.
"Absolutely nothing. But, you also got to want what's best for your wife and what makes her happy. If that is to go back to work full time, then…you're fighting a losing battle. What would you say if she asked you to only work a few hours a week."
Ferg frowned.
"That's…not on the table."
Vic shrugged.
"Maybe it should be."
Ferg sighed.
"I'm not trying to be sexist about this. But, normally it's the mother who takes care of the baby. And, Meg is going to be a great mom."
"Yeah, but she's got to do that on her terms. Not yours. I doubt any of this is easy for her, Ferg. As a woman, she had all these expectations coming at her from all sides and it's impossible to live up to them all. So…cut her some slack and be willing to meet her out in the middle somewhere. Hear what she's saying. Because, when you tell her that you want her to cut back on her hours at work, she might be hearing that you think your job is more important than hers."
He frowned.
"I never said that."
"That doesn't mean she's not getting that impression."
Ferg dipped his face.
"I guess I'm just a little old fashioned."
Vic sat up in her chair.
"Maybe you should take her out and stop worrying so much about all this. When's the last time the two of you had any fun that didn't involve the baby?"
"I can't really remember. Life has gotten crazy that last few weeks."
"I'm sure. So…try that. Go out and have dinner. See a movie. Take a walk. Just be together and don't think so much about being parents."
A smile pulled at his face.
"When did you turn into a relationship expert?"
Vic rolled her eyes at the good-natured jab.
"Well…I've been divorced. So…I know what not to do. Right?"
He nearly laughed before standing up.
"Right."
He shook his head and started to stack up the papers on his desk.
"You never had to deal with kids, though."
He said the comment in the same offhand way they habitually traded remarks. Over time, Ferg had taken on the role of little brother in her mind. When you already had four brothers, what was one more? Along with their relationship came the ribbing and teasing that frequently came with such kinship. But, when he said it, something in her chest pulled tight. Vic felt a low burn in the back of her throat.
Emotion.
She swallowed and forced it back down, refusing to let it take over the moment or her frame of mind. He didn't mean the comment to be hurtful. He didn't know that she had been pregnant or that she lost the child in the wake of her shooting. He didn't know the internal pain that she carried. Most of the time, it didn't bother her. While time didn't heal wounds, it did make them easier to bear. Easier to carry without them taking over and having any real power over her.
She was happy for Ferg, and for Meg. They were well suited for each other. And, despite their current difference of opinions, she knew they would be good parents. Caring parents who would give their son all he needed to get by in life. Happy parents and a safe home. The very same things she had worried she would not be able to provide for the child that she carried briefly. In contrast to the fear and worry her own revelation created inside of her, this one was a happy and well received occasion.
"Right."
The word came out lacking any real volume. Luckily, Ferg had moved and wasn't paying her that much attention. He was still mulling over his own problems. He glanced up.
"Thanks for the talk. Going out…I think that might be just what we need."
With that, he bustled off.
Vic bit the inside of her cheek and turned her eyes to the window beside her. It was a spectacular day. Brisk, but not overly cold with a stunningly blue sky that seemed to carry a lot of promise as the weekend approached.
But, now her mood felt dark. She was already tired. With Cady out, she stepped in at Cady's request. She didn't mind helping out, but being in charge wasn't a desire she really had. Vic was smart enough to recognize the things that she was good at. Investigations and all the aspects of her job as she knew it. But, dealing with the more administrative side of things and taking on all the phone calls and ass kissing that came with it was not something she was good at.
At all.
And, she didn't want to be.
Cady's prior experience as a lawyer gave her a different set of skills. She didn't so much mind the paperwork and her people skills were strong, much more polished than Vic's. It actually made them a good team, a complementary team. Cady had the office skills necessary to keep everything running along smoothly in the office and behind the scenes, especially with Ruby's vast experience in the same area. She didn't mind budget meetings or endless phone calls with the mayor and the county commission. She could smile through it and not flinch, even when she disliked the person in front of her. She presented a neat, professional image and that was what the citizens wanted from their Sheriff.
But, Vic had the on the job experience and the street smarts that could only be gained by working the more active side of the job. She didn't have to worry herself with personnel decisions or how much they had to spend in whatever amount of time to stay on budget. She was good at working a crime scene and putting the pieces together, picking up on the small details that someone with less experience might miss. Her experience was a different world than the one Cady trained in. The streets of Philly either made your or broke you. But, Vic had been born into a family of cops. It's who she was.
Together, they made an effective team. Maybe not in the same way that Vic and Walt had, but her relationship with Cady was completely different for both obvious reasons and some that were less so. But, they still made a formidable team that covered all the basis of effectiveness.
Stepping in and taking on the role solo wasn't something Vic relished. Where she was now and where she thought she would be in her younger days were vastly different. But, she was happy with her life, her career, and where both currently were.
She reminded herself that it was only temporary and that Cady would be back. Still, with Cady out and Ferg needing more time off than normal, she and Zach were the ones carrying a lot of the strain. True to form, Zach never complained. He simply did as asked with a smile and a nod. Vic wasn't particularly close with Zach, but she liked him and recognized that he was good at his job once he settled into it.
With so much up in the air, she was working more hours than had been required of her for quite some time. In the more youthful days of her career, she didn't mind working overtime. Asked for it really. It was one of the original cracks in her marriage with Sean. He was of a similar mindset, giving them little time together and their relationship suffered. Although, to be fair, they had other problems and work offered them an escape from it instead of forcing them to face what was really wrong between them.
Time and life experience had a way of changing people. She didn't have the drive that she did once. She liked the slower pace of her job here in Wyoming at this point in her life. It wasn't for everyone. But, after some of the things that she had been through, it was a welcome reprieve and she came to regard it with fondness.
And, there was Walt.
Her marriage to Walt was so different than her marriage to Sean. She recognized that part of the change was in herself. She was older, more mature. Less prone to ignore problems as opposed to simply resolving them. She was admittedly skeptical about remarrying in the beginning. God knows, they hadn't reached the decision to get married under the most ideal circumstances. But, in reality, it hadn't changed their relationship very much and her hesitation and uncertainty were things of the past.
Their life together was quiet and peaceful.
Mostly. And, when it wasn't, that wasn't their choice.
When Cady was back and Ferg found some balance with his home life, she would take some time off.
She promised herself that.
xxx
"Is everything alright?"
She startled slightly at the sound of his voice. Apparently, Walt hadn't realized how close to the edge of sleep she was. Vic lay on her side facing away from him with Walt behind her, one arm draped over her side. He pressed his mouth against her bare shoulder.
"Sorry."
Vic shifted a little, pulling at the blankets that was pulled across both of them. She stifled a yawn and rearranged her head on the pillow.
"Yeah, why?"
"You've been quiet. Since you came home."
It was a correct observation. Her mood the second half of the day hadn't been great. It was farther darkened by the encroaching end to the nice weather the last couple of days brought to the area. Now, the weather forecasters were promising a series of storms that would sweep through over the next two days and erase the blue skies and outside time.
"Just tired."
Walt lifted his head and propped it up with the hand that had been underneath him. He could see her now, more clearly, looking down as opposed to the limited view from second earlier when his head simply rested behind hers.
"Is that all it is?"
Vic was quiet for a few seconds. She debated just telling him that it was and trying to go to sleep. He wouldn't object. She knew that much. He might not be happy with her insistence that nothing was bothering her, but he wouldn't push. Not right now when she was so close to drowsiness.
Instead, she rolled onto her back, causing Walt to move back a little to give her room. Letting her head come to rest on the pillow, she looked up into his face.
"I was thinking earlier…that I might take some time off once Cady comes back. And…when Ferg is over the parenthood hump."
Walt's eyes stayed on hers steadily.
"Time off? How much time off?"
She shrugged one shoulder.
"Maybe a week."
"Maybe? Is…something going on that I should know about?"
Vic shook her head.
"No. I just…I feel like I need a break."
There was conviction in her words and the concern on Walt's face was obvious.
"Vic, if you need to step away…"
She cut him off with her hand rising up and landing on his face. The stubble along his jaw was rough underneath her hand.
"Don't get dramatic on me. I don't need that kind of a break. I just need…some time. You know?"
She wasn't sure that he did. He still seemed to be reading more into his words than she seemed to want him to. That was so much like him. His blue eyes didn't seem to accept what her mouth was telling him.
"Vic…"
She sighed and nearly rolled her eyes.
"What?"
Now, he could hear her patience waning and her temper starting to flare.
"Don't keep things from me."
Vic bit her lip.
"I'm not keeping anything from you. I just…"
Her voice faltered under his scrutiny.
"…thought we could use the time together. I've been working a lot lately."
She trailed her thumb over his mouth.
"I haven't complained."
His features softened a bit.
"No, you haven't. But…you won't and we both know it. Anyway, I know it sucks."
He smiled a little at the statement. It was mostly true. He rarely complained when her work schedule turned hectic. He knew the job. He understood the job. And, he knew that he had the power to make it easier or harder. He chose to make it easier. Always.
She let her fingers curl around behind his ear and drew his face in closer. Walt swallowed at the new proximity just like she knew he would.
"You think too much."
Another hard swallow.
"So, I've been told."
Vic smiled up at him.
"I know a cure for that. At least…a temporary one."
"Do you?"
Her smile faded and her expression grew more serious.
"Yeah."
Vic pulled him the rest of the way down on top of her, her hands sliding into his hair and pulling him against her.
xxx
Vic jerked awake with a start. Looking around the room, she tried to get her bearings. Her eyes moved to her phone thinking it might have woken her. But, the phone was quiet and the screen was dark. Vic reached up and rubbed her hands over her eyes. She slid them from her face and turned her head.
Walt was still asleep beside her. Whatever woke her didn't seem to have bothered him. Maybe it was in her head. Vic blinked a few times and looked at the glowing numbers of the clock on the far side of the bed beside Walt.
It was just after one.
Something in her mind told her it was a dream that caused her sudden wakefulness. But, if it was a dream, she couldn't recall it now that she was awake and her mind was starting to clear. She wasn't prone to bad dreams. Not now. She's not sure why her mind went there automatically.
In the distance, Vic heard a rumble.
Thunder.
She sat up in the bed and listened. It still sounded like it was a good way off. But, the storms that were predicted were moving in earlier than they were supposed to. Figured. It seemed like weather forecasts were a suggestion more than anything these days. The weather had been strange so far this fall. The summer last longer than it normally did. But, she wasn't about to complain about that. But, the storms they'd had lately seemed more suited to summer and not fall. She didn't associate them with cooler weather.
But, wasn't that the news lately?
Climate change and all that. Unusual weather patterns.
Vic sighed and gave up on the idea of falling back to sleep easily. She pushed the covers off and got up quietly. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants she had discarded earlier and her Flyers hoodie, she left the bedroom and pulled the door mostly closed be hind her.
The living room was dark except for the soft glow of the fire Walt built earlier. It was cool in the cabin, but not uncomfortably so. It was crazy to think they weren't that far away from thinking about snow.
Vic unlocked the front door and walked out onto the porch. The wind was blowing, no doubt as this weather front moved in. She inhaled the night air. It smelled clean with a touch of rain in the distance. Vic walked to the rail of the porch and looked out. Another rumble of thunder was about the only sound that she could hear other than the wind rustling the baring tree branches.
A gust of wind stirred her hair Vic reached up and pushed it behind her ear in a futile attempt to keep it out of her face. The breeziness made it feel cooler than it actually was. Winter was her least favorite season, being long and frequently brutal in Wyoming. The snow was a novelty at first if you were accustomed to it. Until it went on and on. Then, you simply want to feel some warmth on your skin or to see some green grass growing up through the disappearing patches of snow.
Vic dipped her face and closed her eyes. The wind blew again. Her mind was still running on all cylinders. It was frustrating and it was one source of her tiredness at times. She hadn't meant to concern Walt earlier. Being a source of worry was one thing she hated. She hadn't ever liked being fussed over or worried about. It made her feel weak and she didn't like that feeling at all. Of course, everyone was weak at times.
All of them.
Still, in her mind, Walt had enough things to occupy his never-ending thoughts. He didn't need her adding to that list with trivial things that really didn't matter. Vic heard more thunder. The system seemed to be moving at good clip. She leaned forward and stared into the night. There was no real moon tonight to speak of. It made the darkness seem that much darker as odd as that sounded.
There were no other houses in sight and no buildings. There were no street lamps. Beyond the glow of the cabin's porch light, there was only a void of blackness. Looking out into it was almost hypnotizing.
"Vic?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin when his hand landed on her shoulder. Vic turned sharply at the touch and at the sound of his voice that seemingly came from nowhere. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard him come outside.
"Jesus!"
Walt pulled his hand from her shoulder and held it up.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
He dropped his hand to his side. He looked and sounded tired. Vic shook off his apology.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
Walt's expression was fuzzy and he was clearly a bit off kilter.
"You didn't."
He held up her cell phone and offered it to her.
"This did."
Vic frowned and took the phone. Lighting up the screen, she sighed.
"Shit. Zach."
She brushed by Walt and went back inside with him following behind her as she redialed the number and waited for Zach to answer.
"Hey."
He knew it was her.
"What's up?"
Whatever it was, she knew it was about to make her night much longer and much worse.
"We got a report of a possible gravesite"
The frown Vic already wore deepened.
"What?"
The word came out sharp.
"You're gonna have to hear this one to believe it."
Vic inhaled a deep breath. She was right about one thing. Her night just got a whole lot longer.