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Curiosity Killed Shaney(12)

By:JC Wallace


Suddenly, Hudson’s jaw unclenched and his eyes lightened. Even his shoulders relaxed. Shaney’s breath caught at the soft openness gazing down at him. Butterflies beat furiously in the pit of Shaney’s stomach. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Hudson’s eyes intently followed the movement. Slowly, he lifted his hand toward Shaney’s face. Was he going to touch Shaney? Yes, touch me. Shaney wanted to step closer and nuzzle his cheek into that palm. A slight hesitation of his hand, a flicker of something in Hudson’s eyes, and Shaney froze. Hudson’s hand continued up and a light brush of fingertips across the bump on his scalp sent shivers zinging down Shaney’s spine. There wasn’t enough air.

“Does it hurt?” Hudson asked in a low, rough voice as he watched his own fingers stroking Shaney’s head.

Please, don’t ever stop.

“Not too much anymore. I guess if I knocked it again, probably.” Shaney’s gaze never left Hudson’s face. How rare was that open honesty?

Hudson’s eyes flicked down to meet Shaney’s and, for one perfect moment, Shaney stopped thinking. But as quick as a rabbit fleeing a fox, Hudson’s hand snapped back and the tension that had been momentarily absent, now filled Hudson’s face.

“There’re boot prints in the mud.” The all-business tone was back.

Shaney tried to catch up with the sudden change while being bombarded by confusion over their strange interaction. So much for not staring.

Hudson turned and pointed toward the pond. “The footprints go around to the front of the cabin. I’m going to check it out.”

Shaney followed along, stunned stupid by Hudson’s duplicity. He shook his head. Time to rejoin this reality and stop lusting after the big straight man. Shaney was here to do a job, and this time he was going to do that job right! Squaring his shoulders, Shaney caught up with Hudson and followed the prints. One set went to the new dock stretching over the water and another set went to the old wooden steps at the front door. The steps were caked with muddy boot prints. Looking up, Shaney noticed the front door was slightly ajar.

Hudson set down the bag he carried and studied the unsecured door for a moment. He moved tentatively up the steps, which creaked ominously beneath his weight. Reaching out with his fingertips, Hudson pushed the door open and peered into the cabin. With a hesitant glance over his shoulder at Shaney, Hudson disappeared inside.

Shaney’s attention shifted to the thick undergrowth around the trees. A cold breeze crossed his skin, sending a shudder through him. A cloud crossed the sun, casting everything in shadow. A foreboding air raised the hairs on Shaney’s arms. A coppery smell mixed with the stench of mold filled Shaney’s nose. His skin tightened, feeling too small for his body. Something rubbed across his insides, lurking…breathing. Pressure pushed at the inside of his skull and a dull roar expanded and shaped into words.

Go away. Run. Go away. Run.

The chant filled Shaney’s head, voices rising in chorus. Covering his ears with his palms only drove the voices to scream louder. Their surging echoes physically punched him in the chest and stomach. Shaney hugged his torso for protection, yet the blows continued to connect. The chanting grew. As Shaney turned to protect his midsection, a painful blow hit him between the shoulder blades. Shaney cried out and another painful thud rattled his rib cage, trying to force him toward the woods. He pushed back against the force, but his legs faltered and he slammed down onto his knees.

“Shaney!”

The roar of the muffled, chanting voices still commanded him to run. Hands grabbed Shaney’s arms. The pressure of the fingertips stabbed him like a thousand needles.

“Shaney!” the voice yelled, and then all the noises in his head stopped.

Shaney clamped his eyes shut as he fought to catch his breath. The chanting, the crushing blows, the fear and pain and panic had fled. Hudson’s fingers clamped tight around Shaney’s biceps. It was a safe bet Hudson was holding Shaney upright. He drew in a shaky breath.

“Shaney, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Is it your head?”

The hint of distress in Hudson’s tone pulled Shaney’s gaze upward. Hudson’s blue eyes pleaded with Shaney for an answer, for reassurance. Shaney licked his lips and glanced around. The sun shone and the noises of the wildlife filled the air. Water splashed at the sides of the dock. The breeze was warm. Everything was perfectly normal. And Hudson was looking at Shaney with such concern and warm regard that the lie spilled out.

“I think I overdid it today. My head started hurting really bad, but I think I’m okay now.” Shaney pulled the corners of his mouth into a guarded smile.