Swamp Monster Love

Chapter 20: Resisting Arrest

I'm kind of in shock from the letter, so we're standing by Jacobs's police car by the time it dawns on me that I don't particularly want to go to jail, and also that I have the ability to avoid it.

"It's a great letter and all," I say, slipping out of the cuffs, "but I don't think Christine wrote all of it. And therefore I don't think I'm going to let you arrest me."

Miller is already starting her own car, and Jacobs has his back turned opening to door, so neither of them actual witness my escape act. I think I know, more or less, what happened to Christine, and who is responsible for me being wrapped up in it, and I'm not about to get locked up before I can do something about it.

"Afraid you don't have any choice, Brian." Jacobs turns, looking genuinely sorry to be locking me up, and then baffled and angry that I am not handcuffed.

I toss him the cuffs. My hands are trembling, but I don't think he notices that either. "No offense. But I think I need to finish this on my own. I'm being framed."

He reaches to grab my shoulder. I shift, just enough, and his hand slips. Off balance, he takes half a second to recover. Miller hurries toward us, one hand on her holster.

"Brian." Jacobs squares himself more meaningfully, sizing me up with greater caution. "Don't make this difficult. Put your hands on the car now and I won't even call it resisting. I'm arresting you for your own good. I think you're troubled, not dangerous."

Miller stands back a few feet, in something like a shooting stance, but still without gun drawn.

"You're wrong about both," I say. "I'm not troubled, but I am dangerous. I didn't hurt my friends though. You don't understand what's really happening here."

Miller scoffs. "We understand fine, kid."

I pull water from the fountain, just to show them I can. It flies to me, becomes me. I stand a few inches taller. I flex my bulging muscles, crack my neck.

"What the...?"

And now the guns are out.

"Do you mind if I borrow your car?" I say. "There's someone I need to see."

Jacobs holsters his gun and charges. He hits me hard. I've braced for it, but maybe I shouldn't have. I'm knocked to the ground. Jacobs kneels on my back, wrenching my arm behind me.

"Brian Anderson. You are under arrest for –"

"No!" I pull water from everywhere, as hard as I can. Pipes rip from the ground in a sloppy grid, tearing the earth. The stream launches toward me. I become a bloated spider with a hundred liquid legs. A misshapen blob. It is more than I know how to absorb.

"What are you?" Drenched, Jacobs staggers back. Without giving me much chance to answer, he draws his gun and fires, over and over. I flinch at the noise, losing form until I realize the bullets merely passed through. I am water. I am weight and force. Fluid and liquid. I cannot be hurt.

"Well, I'm no killer," I say, my voice like a river. I release the stream and pipes. I return to something approximating my normal size and shape. The excess water drops into pools and puddles and mud all around me. My clothes ripped when I swelled, but I must have formed myself around them. They come back into place wet, but fairly whole. "I haven't hurt anyone."

"You're not going to either." This is Miller, who I'd momentarily forgotten, but who reminds me of her existence rather forcefully by firing a taser me. Barbed electrodes pierce what passes for my skin. Voltage courses through me.

Meh.

It's kind of nice actually, like one of those vibrating back massages. Jacobs is saying something into his radio though, and, whether I'm a monster now or not, it's pretty clear my task will be easier without these two involved. I stretch out my arms and grab both officers by the shoulder. The taser's electricity courses into them. They fall to the ground.