Chapter 3: Chapter 3

“Mr. Wheeler? Brendan?” Jeremy brushed the dirt off Brendan’s brow. Other than a scrape across his cheek, his face was unmarred. Whatever had happened to him, it hadn’t been something as simple as a fistfight.

Brendan didn’t move. Jeremy took a glance at his filthy water and rose to change it. There was still no sign of Brendan waking when he returned, but the detective’s pulse had slowed to a more natural rhythm. That was good. One less thing for him to worry about.

Cleaning him was tedious work. Dirt covered him everywhere. One whole flank looked like he’d taken a dip in a mud bath. Jeremy had to swap out his water half a dozen times before Brendan started looking more normal, though the tattoo emblazoned across his back was anything but.

He was washing some of the grit out of a wrist when Brendan finally made a noise. The arm in Jeremy’s grasp tensed, then stiffened. Brendan tried to yank it away, but for all his muscles, the power to do so escaped him.