“Break time,” came the foreman’s voice from inside the farmhouse they were remodeling. “Take thirty!”
Nate looked out of the open garage in the direction Shuli was pointing. The two of them had been assigned the work in here because they were newbies, and if the holes left by the windows’ removal weren’t patched with total perfection, who was really going to care?
Well, Nate cared. Shuli? Not so much.
“Come on.” Shuli took Nate’s Black+Decker and put it down on a table saw. “Let’s go for walkies.”
Nate shrugged and played follow-the-leader, the pair of them heading across the driveway and onto the lawn. When they got to the fence, they each threw a leg over the bottom two rails while they ducked under the top one. After that, it was all open field, although given that it was only late April, there wasn’t much grass growth. Little bit of mud, though—their steel-toed boots mucking through the slop.
With a frown, Nate glanced at his friend. “Why are you wearing shorts?”
“I’m hot-blooded, my friend.”
“You’re a virgin.”
“So are you. And do not conflate my lack of experience with a paucity of enthusiasm.”
“Big words,” Nate said with a laugh.
“Dad’s a psychiatrist, remmy.”
“And that relates to you how?”
“I know all about conflation.” Shuli leaned in and lowered his voice. “As well as other things that end in ‘-ation.’ And start with the letter M. And have a ‘bruh’ without the R in the middle—”
“What’s that smell?”
Shuli jumped ahead and walked backward. “So . . . have you?”
To avoid a sneeze, Nate rubbed his nose like he was buffing its end to a high shine. “Can you smell that?”
“Stop avoiding the question. You’re three months out of your transition, and a fully functioning male. Which means—”
Nate looked past the other male’s shoulders. “It smells like burned . . . iron.”
Shuli stopped dead in the path of progress. “Have you made yourself come yet.”
“None of your business.” Nate stepped around the living, breathing, incredibly classy but horny obstacle. “There’s smoke, too.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is. I’d tell you.”
“You already have.” Nate shot a dry look at the guy. “Many times. Don’t you have hairy palms and blindness by now?”
“That’s just for humans, and I’m trying to inspire you by leading through example.”
“I’m not interested in that kind of leadership.” Nate clapped a hand on the back of the guy’s neck and gave him a shake. “Enough. Let’s concentrate on your bright idea. Now will you look at all that smoke?”
To help ADHD focus, he turned Shuli’s face toward the plume rising up out of the tree line and into the night sky.
Shuli stopped again. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s not on account of your hotness.”
“Well, duh, or it’d be right above us.”
The good news was that courtesy of whatever they were walking toward, the guy left the left-handed business alone. The bad news was that whatever was steaming in those woods, and smelling like someone had lit a cauldron on fire, was likely . . . well, bad news.
“Should we call someone,” Nate wondered.
“Like who?”
“My dad?”
It still felt a little weird using the d-word, but not because Murhder wasn’t his father. He’d just never expected to have one. Life wasn’t supposed to grant you a true family just because you’d wanted one. Just because you needed one.
Nate frowned. “Hey, are there people in there?”
“You know, maybe this isn’t such a great idea—”
“No, I want to—”
“Nah, I made a mistake. Let’s turn around. Break time’s done.”
When Nate felt his arm get taken in a hard grip, he shot Shuli a glare. “You’re kidding, right.”
His best friend’s face was more serious than Nate had ever seen it. “I made a mistake.”
“No, you’re being a pussy—wait, is that a gun? What the fuck are you doing with a gun!”
“I’m protecting you.”
Nate blinked and shook his head at the weapon in his buddy’s hand. “Who are you and what have you done with Shuli?”
“I can’t let anything happen to you.”
With sudden dread, Nate said, “What did my father tell you.”
“It has nothing to do with your dad.”
Nate glanced at the plume and the people he could see moving in and around the forest. Then he decided, Fuck it.
“Well, I’m not your problem, and I’m going over there. If you have another opinion about this? You can shoot me in the ass.”
He didn’t make it far before Shuli caught up. “Nate, this is dangerous—”
“Put that thing away, will you? Christ. You’ll just end up popping yourself.”
As they hit the tree line, they were arguing about all kinds of things—guns, idiots with guns, idiots who wanted to go investigating stuff when it wasn’t safe, idiots who suggested investigations and then bailed on them—although at least the nine millimeter was out of sight.
And boy, they were not alone.
At least a dozen people had gathered about a hundred yards in, but fortunately, going by the scents, they were all members of the species. Then again, there weren’t a lot of humans out here in the sticks, which was precisely why that farmhouse was being worked on by their crew.