Pathos - A Duskwood Fanfiction

Chapter 37

On a single lane highway that twisted its way through a frozen November nightscape of abandoned farmlands and silent woods, a nondescript green four door car drove at a speed that far surpassed the legal limit for the road that it was on. Swirls of light snow were pulled into its haste as they fell into its wake, turning from white into a deep red as they fell into the glow of its rear lights.

Inside of the car's cabin, Alan Bloomgate sat behind the wheel, watching the highway stretch away into the darkness that his lowbeams could not reach. A highway sign melted out of the dark as he approached, and as he leaned forward slightly to squint at the lettering upon it, he reached for the phone that was sitting on the dash.

Satisfied that the sign was indicating where he wanted to exit, he turned on the phone with one hand and pulled up a blank text messaging window, typing two words before turning the phone off again and tossing it back onto the dash.

Five minutes.

As the highway exit appeared off to the right, Alan turned the wheel to follow its path, and within a few minutes, watched as the boxy shape of a lone bus terminal rose out of the woods that flanked it on either side. As he approached, he saw a figure clad in all black materialize out of the darkness in front of the terminal and step towards the street curb.

He pulled up next to the curb in front of the figure and stopped the car, keeping his eyes locked on the window as he awaited his passenger. But instead of the passenger door being pulled open to admit them, he started slightly when a dark shadow suddenly appeared in front of the driver's side window.

He looked over and up out of the window, and saw Jake standing there silently, waiting. Arching an eyebrow, Alan hit the button on the door panel to lower the window, and as it hissed into position, Alan leaned out of the now open space to look up at him.

Though his face was almost fully obscured by the black hood that he was wearing, Alan could see that the other man looked completely exhausted. His already pale skin looked ashen, and the deep blue of his eyes, though as unnaturally vivid as always, looked changed somehow. As he stared up at him, trying to pinpoint the foci of the change, Jake spoke.

"I'm driving."

The words were flat and brusque, and there was no mistaking the command that they held. But Alan held his ground against the directive for a moment longer, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the other man's face.

Ignoring the way that Jake's jaw clenched in seeming irritation at Alan's lack of immediate acquiescence, he traced every line of the other man's face until he saw it. The skin under his left eye and circling around to the outer canthus was dark and slightly swollen and Alan had sustained enough of his own blunt force injuries in the past to know that shiner was probably, at best, a day old. His focus then switched from the area of injury to lock gazes with the other man, and he raised his eyebrows in silent query as Jake stared him down.

Offering no quarter, Jake spoke again.

"I'm driving."

His voice was hard and angry then, like he had pushed it through gritted teeth, and without waiting for Alan this time, he reached out a hand and opened the driver's side door.

A rush of freezing November air washed into the car interior as he did this, and Alan couldn't help but think that the plunging temperatures complimented those of his surly acquaintance well. Jake stood in silence as Alan sighed under his breath and undid his seatbelt, also ignoring Alan's pointed stare as he stood to face him.

Sidestepping around the police chief easily, Jake had already slid into the freshly unoccupied driver's seat before Alan could take a single step. He turned just in time to see the window that he had lowered slide back into a closed position, the tinted glass now offering nothing of the man that now sat inside, waiting.

"Dick," Alan whispered sullenly under his breath and reluctantly made his way around the front of the vehicle to open the passenger side door. He got in, shut the door, and Jake immediately hit the gas before he could even get his seatbelt on.

The car lurched into gear and Alan swore as the other man executed a nauseatingly fast - but admittedly perfectly executed - three point turn and started speeding towards the highway.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jake, slow down. Do the speed limit or we are going to get pulled over, and I'm pretty sure that would be the last thing that you would want to happen," Alan barked, but Jake, hands clenched around the steering wheel and staring with laser focus out at the highway flying out in front of them, did not seem to have noticed that Alan had said anything at all.

Alan swore again and leaned over towards him to glance at the speedometer as the numbers began to slowly climb, and then spoke in a hiss.

"You are driving like a maniac. Slow down."

The numbers kept climbing.

"Jake. Do I have to pull my gun on you?"

At this, finally, something seemed to register in Jake's consciousness, and with a quick glance over at Alan's glaring face, he relented his push on the gas pedal enough to allow the car to fall to a reluctant ten miles per hour over the speed limit.

Alan sank back into his seat then, and stared at Jake silently. The other man was looking straight ahead, eyes locked on the road, but Alan could see the slight slump in his shoulders now that spoke of a magnitude of exhaustion. He glanced over what he could see of the other man swiftly, taking note of the disheveled state of his clothing and the several days old stubble on his cheeks.

"What happened?"

To Alan's question, Jake remained mute, but lifted a hand off of the steering wheel to drop to his pocket. Alan watched as he fished around inside of it, and then stared blankly as Jake withdrew something and silently extended towards him.

Alan frowned in puzzlement as the lights from the streetlamps illuminated a thin flat object that glittered blackly in Jake's hand. Recognizing it as a cellphone, he took it slowly and stared at it in confusion.

"Whose is this?" the police chief asked, turning it over in his hand searchingly before looking back up at Jake.

"Your Grindr date," Jake said flatly, and the cabin interior fell into silence.

After what had felt like a full mile that had passed within that silence, Jake spoke again in the same inflectionless tone, keeping his eyes locked on the road.

"Informant."

Alan looked back down at the phone in his hand again, and, feeling somewhat dissociated, pushed the button on the side to activate the screen. As the screen sprang to life, he saw that the phone's text messaging application was open. And there, at the top of the list of messages, was his own name. A preview line of the last text received was clearly visible.

Wear black.

Alan turned the screen off.

They drove in silence for a very long time.