“It’s fucking spooky in here at night,” Walker says. He’s pacing around the library, trailing a hand along the shelves and letting his fingers roll over the spines of different books. “You couldn’t turn some lights on or something?”
“Don’t do that,” Austin says. He’s sitting at the same table he ate lunch at, waiting. “And I wasn’t planning on it. I was thinking maybe it’ll be easier to lure the ghost out if it’s dark and quiet in here.”
Saying it out loud, it doesn’t sound like a good plan. Walker snorts.
“What, like you’re actually going to see a ghost?”
“I see ghosts all the time,” Austin says flatly.
Walker stops and turns, and looks oddly over the frames of his glasses at Austin. He looks surprised, or caught off guard, maybe. Then he smirks, wiping the bizarrely vulnerable expression off his face.
“Yeah, right.”
“I do.” Austin sits up straighter in his chair. “Why do you think I was on that police case with the lake murders? And the one with the wild animal attacks?”
“Okay, first of all, if you’re talking about the thing that I found attacking you in back of the motel, that was just a bear or a wolf or some shit. Nothing supernatural about that.” Walker leans up against a shelf of comic books, folding his arms over his chest. “And I heard the lake murderer was some crazy guy out in the woods.”
“He’s not -” Austin starts, and has to cut himself off. Not the best time to get into that, maybe. “There was an evil spirit involved.”
“Bullshit. How do you know?”
“It possessed me,” he snaps.
That shuts Walker up. He goes back to pacing and touching books - at least if the library haunting is by an angry dead librarian, this is a surefire way to draw them out. Austin wonders vaguely where Richard and Mac got off to, but maybe they’re checking the parts of the library inaccessible to him, like the locked basement and Channery’s office. Or they’re still chatting outside.
It’s possible, of course, that there is no ghost, and the strange feelings Austin and others have gotten in the library are just from power of suggestion. Or in Austin’s case, Richard and Mac hanging around the building. Some people in Antlers are superstitious enough to believe whatever you tell them about spirits. Maybe a library worker invented a rumor about the place being haunted for publicity. They could have been just trying to do Channery a favor.
Against his better judgement, Austin hopes the library ghost is real. He’ll regret getting Mac’s hopes up if it turns out to be nothing, and roping Walker into coming and staying up all night with him.
“So did you ever find a job?” he asks Walker, doing his best to steer the conversation away from what it was before. His normal speaking volume sounds too loud for the library, even with no one else around, and he self-consciously lowers it. “I mean, the last time we talked you said you had an offer that hadn’t worked out. But that was a couple months ago, right?”
“Oh, uh,” Walker stammers, looking surprised again. “Yeah. I’m doing some…freelance stuff for this company I used to work for back home. They kept asking me back, and I couldn’t get rid of them, so I figured, hell, why not. Money is money, right?”
Walker has a way of talking around what he does for a living that makes Austin think maybe he doesn’t want to know what it is. Maybe he’s a contract killer or something. Would I really have a problem if he was? I let Landis live with me and Otter, and I know for a fact that he’s killed people.
“Money is money,” Austin agrees out loud. “How come you’re staying all the way out here if your job is back in Pennsylvania?”
Walker makes a face like Austin actually did ask him if he murders for a living. “They have work out here that they need taken care of. Just convenience, I guess.”
“Oh,” Austin says, fumbling for a new topic of conversation. How is making small talk harder than losing control of your body to an evil spirit? “I thought maybe you stayed because you had family out here or something.”
“Nah. Not on great terms with most of my family.”
Austin grins. Finally something he can relate to. “Me neither.”
“Brothers, man,” Walker says empathetically. “They’re the fucking worst.”
Austin opens his mouth, and abruptly shuts it again. When did I mention I had a brother? I never said anything about Jacob to him, did I? He could be some kind of mind reader - a psychic maybe - or it’s just a lucky guess. Or he’s been researching me for some reason. Is he a bounty hunter? Someone probably sent him to kill me and I’m playing right into his hands, letting him be alone with me in an abandoned building at night. Great.
“What’s wrong?” Walker asks. “You look like you saw a ghost. Or…I mean, did you see a ghost? Is it right behind me? Hey, say something.”
“I never told you I had a brother,” Austin manages. His mouth feels dry. Any minute now he’s going to whip out a gun and shoot me, or hold me hostage and make me tell him all about the Department, and where Jacob lives.
Walker grins. Austin can’t tell if it’s meant to be menacing. “Oh, well, lucky guess. I’ve got a shitty brother, and I figured you looked like you could commiserate.”
His eyes are darting around behind his glasses, and his grin looks tense around the edges, the corners of his mouth twitching like it’s paining him to smile. Austin’s not an idiot - he can recognize a liar when he sees one. He learned how to spot a liar before he finished puberty. Perks of being groomed to work for the Department since he was four years old. He also knows his way around hand-to-hand combat, which he might need if he’s going to get out of here with his life. Walker looks like he’ll go down easy with a couple of good punches. Hopefully he doesn’t have a weapon.
Austin stands up from his chair, taking off his jacket and dropping it on the table. Walker gives him a funny look, still smiling.
“Ooh, touchy subject? We can talk about something else.”
“We’re done talking,” Austin says, keeping his voice low, the threat in it implicit. Should have brought my knife. “Go back to whoever sent you and tell them they can come deal with me on their own, if that’s what they really want. I’m not involved with the DPR anymore, and I’m not interested in fighting anyone’s lackeys just so they can get to my brother, or whatever they sent you for.”
Walker laughs. It’s a barking sound that barely sounds mirthful, and echoes around the empty library like gunshots. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking down through them at Austin, and Austin has never wanted to punch anyone more than he wants to punch Walker at this particular moment in time.
“Kid,” he says, “you’ve got it all backwards.”
“Then tell me why you’re here.”
Walker arches his eyebrows. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, I fucking want to know,” Austin growls.
“Jacob sent me to look after you,” Walker says proudly, holding his arms out like he’s daring Austin to attack him. “Make sure nothing happens while you’re running around out here playing boy detective. I mean, if I were you, I’d be pretty grateful about it. You would’ve gotten eaten by that wolf thing if I hadn’t been around to save your ass,”
Austin’s blood is rushing in his ears, and everything Walker says after the word “Jacob” is lost on him, too far away to matter. His whole body feels hot, buzzing with adrenaline in a way he hasn’t felt since high school. Walker’s face looms up over him like the moon. Austin strikes upwards with his palm, feeling the heel of his hand connect with Walker’s chin, hearing the crack of his bottom teeth colliding with the top ones.
“Fuck,” Walker spits, rubbing his jaw.
Austin tries to round on Walker again, tries to knock the wind out of him with a punch, but feels himself being thrust backwards. The table he was sitting at catches him in the small of his back, and he yelps as pain lances up his spine.
“You still want to fight, kid?” Walker asks, like a babysitter trying to diffuse a temper tantrum.
“Fuck you,” Austin says. His hands are balled into fists, so tight he can feel his nails digging into the skin. Should’ve brought my knife, should’ve brought my knife. Why didn’t I bring my fucking knife? Fuck!
“Yeah, alright,” Walker drawls. He leans back against the bookshelf again, placidly, and gestures with one hand. Austin feels himself being lifted off the ground suddenly - a few inches, then a foot, then level with the tops of the bookshelves. “But I’m not pulling my fucking punches, here. And I’m telling Jacob you started it.”
walker is SUCH a dick