Closer: Bay City Paranormal Investigation, Book 4

one wall of a larger space, Bo grumbled about no one listening to him. It was just loud enough for Sam to know he was supposed to hear it, and something inside him snapped.
    Stalking over to Bo, he snatched the thermal camera from his hand and switched it off. “All right, that’s it. If you have something to say to me, just fucking say it already. I’m sick of listening to you whine like a little kid.”
    Bo’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Fine. I was trying not to hurt your feelings—”
“Bullshit,” Sam spat. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice your fucking passive-aggressive bitching? You knew I would hear, especially that last bit.”
In the glow of Sam’s flashlight, a muscle in Bo’s jaw twitched. His eyes burned. “As. I. Was. Saying,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I really thought it would be better for everyone if you and I were teamed with other people tonight.”
“Yeah, because you didn’t want me to see if you had another episode like you had before. What a big fucking surprise that was.” Sam started pacing, and let out a bitter laugh when he realized he’d picked up one of Bo’s nervous habits. “What the hell is happening to you, Bo? You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever known in my life, but you’ve never been one to completely dismiss something like this. At Sunset Lodge, you were smart enough to recognize that your leg wasn’t behaving normally, and you acted accordingly. You kept Dean and me informed, and let us know what was going on. Why can’t you do that now?”
Bo crossed his arms. His eyes glittered with a dangerous light. “This is a completely different situation.”
“No, it isn’t, dammit! It’s the same! If anything, this is worse because you’re seeing and feeling things that can’t be explained away by a four-hour hike or anything else.” Sam pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. “The worst part is, you’re shutting me out. That scares me.”
Bo pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze to the dirt floor. He didn’t say a word. Everything about him shouted don’t touch loud and clear . Sam wanted to scream at him, to shake him and hit him, anything at all to break through the wall he’d built between them in the last twenty-four hours and bring him back.
“Bo, please,” Sam said, though he didn’t know what he was pleading for.
Raising his head, Bo looked at Sam. For a moment, Sam thought he saw contrition in the dark depths of Bo’s eyes.
Bo’s lips parted. He took a step forward, faltered and stopped.
Something dark and strange fluttered on the edge of Sam’s psychic perception. Something with a hint of the familiar, setting off alarm bells in his head.
“Bo,” he whispered. “We need to get out of here.”
Bo didn’t answer. His eyes were empty, his expression blank.
Sam’s mouth went dry. Oh, Christ.
Even as Sam dropped the flashlight and lunged forward, Bo’s knees buckled.

Chapter Eight
    Sam snaked his arm around Bo’s waist and eased them both to the floor, still clutching the thermal camera in his other hand. His heart hammered so hard he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. “Bo? Can you hear me?”
    No answer. Sam set the camera on the floor and peered into Bo’s face by the light of the flashlight, which had come to rest in the corner. The beam pointed toward a spot on the wall to Sam’s left, but it was still strong enough to see by.
    Bo’s eyes were half closed and rolled back so that only the whites showed. Sam pressed two shaking fingers to the pulse point in Bo’s throat. At first he felt nothing. After a panicked second he found the pulse, weak and far too fast, but there. Bo’s breathing was rapid and shallow, and sweat dotted his forehead.
    Feeling as if he’d fallen into a bad dream, Sam pulled the radio off the waistband of his shorts and thumbed the button. “Dean, come in, this is Sam.” Dean, with his background as an ER nurse’s assistant, would know what to do.
    There was a burst of static, followed by Dean’s voice. “This is Dean, go ahead.”
“Bo passed out, and he’s not waking up.” Sam hated the quaver in his voice, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t been this scared since November, sitting in the surgery waiting room at Mobile General waiting to hear whether Bo was alive or dead. “C-Can… Can you come?”
“Where are you?”
Dean radiated calm competence even over the radio. Some of Sam’s