Knight’s Run (3)

“Hi, Diane,” said the sheriff. “Has it been busy?”

“No.” She smiled at Knight, who smiled back at her. She blushed. Barry went to the coffee maker and poured some into a styrofoam cup. “Want one?’ he asked Knight.

“No, thanks.” Knight looked out the window at the parking lot. “I’d better call my husband.”

“Husband?” asked Barry. Knight turned to him.

“Yeah,” he said, and pulled out his cell. He glanced at Diane again, who stared at him with her mouth open in what could be termed as amazement. Barry had his cup half-way to his lips and seemed also amazed.

Knight stepped out into the hallway. He called Mal, but got no answer. He hated voicemail, so didn’t leave a message. As he headed into the dispatcher’s area again, he noticed that she didn’t smile at him anymore. In fact, he felt suddenly cold, his feline senses detecting a subtle change in the air.

Barry sipped coffee, leaning against the desk. “How come you’re retired?”

“I’m a stay-at-home dad.”

Diane said, sounding stunned, “You have kids?”

“Three of ’em. A boy and two girls.” He pulled out his wallet to show them pictures.

Barry leaned over and examined the photos. “White hair?”

“Snow leopard.”

“A homosexual shifter?”

Knight met the man’s eyes. He saw the angry look, and now he understood the change in the room.  “There’s worse,” said Knight.

The dispatcher looked curiously at Barry, who turned away, not without Knight seeing the look of disgust.

The phone rang, and the dispatcher answered it. “Hello, Mrs. Scott. Yes, we’re hunkered down for the storm. No, ma’am, we don’t need anything.”

Knight went back to the window. Soon, another SUV came into the lot, following a plow that continued down the street. A young man in a black or blue jacketstepped out. He owre a cop’s peaked cap, was dressed head to toe in black or blue. He practically screamed “cop”.

He came into the station as Diane hung up. Knight glanced at him as he came in. “Kyle,” said Barry.

“Sherrif. Who’s this?”

“A hero from Millennium City. His bike broke down.”

“A motorcycle in this weather?”

“Grav-bike,” said Knight.

“If you’re a hero, can’t you fly?”

“Not all of us can fly.”

Barry said, “Besides, he’s retired.”

Kyle looked at Barry, then to Knight. “So what brings you to Carlisle?”

“Passing through.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Barry went over to Kyle and whispered something in his ear, right in front of Knight. Kyle looked Knight up and down.

“Barry says you’re probably a vagrant.”

Knight sighed. “Jesus Christ. He even looked me up.” He glared at Barry.

“Heroes don’t retire.”

“They do when they got families.”

“Vagrant, all right,” said Barry, crossing his arms.

Knight looked between the two. “I see who wears the pants in this town.”  Barry approached , pulling out handcuffs. Knight backed up into a desk. “you can’t arrest me.”

“See that we can’t,” said Barry, grabbing Knight’s shoulder. Knight stayed rooted to the spot as Barry tried to pull him away from the desk.

“I think he’s resisting arrest,” said Kyle.

“Jesus Christ,” said Knight, meekly turning around and letting Barry cuff him.

Barry leaned close to Knight, putting his knee in the crack of Knight’s butt. “You like this, faggot?” he breathed in Knight’s ear.

Knight rolled his eyes. As they searched him, pulling out his wallet, cell, and keys, he muttered,  “Oh, what the fuck.”

Diane said, “Guys, he didn’t do anything.”

“Stolen vehicle?” Kyle said, shaking the keys.

“You can’t do this. I get a phone call.”

“Already made it,” said Barry, yanking Knight away from the desk and shoving him past Diane’s desk to the hallway. At the end of the hallway was a wrought iron set of stairs, which Barry shoved Knight toward. Barry flipped on a florescent light that blinked a few seconds before coming on.

Knight went down the smooth iron steps in front of Barry and Kyle. At the bottom of the stairs, Barry turned on another set of florescents, this time illuminating a row of six cells, three on each side of a concrete hallway. It was freezing down here.

Kyle was behind Barry, grinning and slapping a flashlight in his hand. “A faggot hero. Who knew.”

“I think he’s not a hero no more because he’s a fag,” said Barry, as he opened the middle cell. He shoved Knight inside. Knight pretended to stumble and landed against the opposite concrete wall.

“You gonna take these off?” he asked, shrugging.

“Don’t you types like to be tied up?”

“I don’t know what kinda queer porn you been readin’,” said Knight, “but that ain’t one of my kinks. Maybe it’s yours?”

Kyle stepped forward but Barry slammed shut the door. “He’s not going anywhere,” he said. “We’ve got all night.”

Kyle pointed the butt end of the flashlight at Knight. “You wait.”

Knight shrugged. The two men went upstairs, Kyle slapping that flashlight against his hand as he went up the stairs. They shut off the lights, leaving him alone in the dark.

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