Adam Crain's Arc

Chapter 6 of 8

Willem moved ahead of him through a service hatch Adam had never noticed. The corridor narrowed, then opened into a wide bay lit only by emergency strips along the floor. Rows of broken utility vehicles sat in the dark, hulls dented, tires flat, hoods half open. Willem stopped beside one with a cracked windshield and turned around. "No cameras past the hatch," he said. "Six minutes left on the loop, then another nine here where the lens never reached." Adam stepped closer and did not know yet what Willem had brought him here to do. Adam watched Willem's hands as he spoke. On the smallest finger of his right hand sat the gold band with the black stone, the one Adam had pressed into his palm two years ago and never seen him wear. Willem caught the look. He did not explain. He only turned his hand once so Adam could see it clearly, then reached into his coat and pulled out the device he had used on the line. It was shaped like a wrench, with a small screen in the head and a fan of colored wires trailing from the grip. "This is how I cut the feed," Willem said. "I built it in the shed. I wanted you to see it." Adam understood then. Willem had not brought him here for a speech or a plan. He had brought him here to show his work, and to be seen for it. Adam took the tool from his hand, set it carefully on the hood of the vehicle, and pushed Willem back against the door. He kissed him. Willem's mouth opened under his at once. Adam felt the answer he had been afraid to ask for. He pulled at the buttons of Willem's shirt. Willem's hands were already at his coat, shoving it off his shoulders, then at the hem of his shirt. Adam felt cold metal against his ribs where Willem's ring pressed in. Neither of them spoke. The shirt came off. Willem's came open. Adam put his mouth on Willem's throat and felt him laugh once, low, surprised. A beam of light swung across the hood of the vehicle. It came from the far side, low, narrow, the kind a guard carried on a belt. Adam froze with his hand still on Willem's chest. The beam moved along the broken bumper and stopped on the wrench-shaped device sitting in the open. Footsteps came around the front of the vehicle, slow, deliberate, one boot at a time. Willem pushed Adam down behind the wheel well and crouched with him. He did not reach for the tool. He looked at Adam in the dim light and gave him one small nod. The nod said he had heard the question Adam had carried all night, and the answer was yes. Then the footsteps stopped on the other side of the hood, and a voice they both knew said, "Stand up."