Did someone break in to rob me? Fine. Take it all. Maybe they’ve come to kill me. Even better. I wouldn’t have to think anymore. Wouldn’t have to feel. And that’s fine. Hell, that’s good. That sounds really … damn good.

  He opened one eye to see a pair of white Nikes walking toward him, kicking aside empty bottles of Jameson's. “Crap,” Neil whispered. It was someone worse than a burglar or a killer. It was …

  “Dude, what the hell?”

  Jeremy. A very loud Jeremy.

  “Did you decide to live in a garbage pit? I’d have our troops evacuate immediately if we were out in the field.”

  “Stop talking,” Neil growled.

  Jeremy squatted down close to Neil. “And you stink. Even at your worst, you took care of your hygiene. It’s a good thing I showed up when I did. You could get the entire building condemned, and Athena would kick your ass. She gave me the code to your door, by the way.”

  “Go away.”

  “Sorry, dude. Can’t do that. But I am going to take pictures.” Jeremy stood up and began clicking the camera on his phone. “What do you think, TikTok or Instagram?”

  “I’m going to throw up.”

  “Whoa, hold on. Let’s get you in the bathroom so that you can puke in the ceramic throne.”

  “If you touch me, I’m throwing up on your shoes.”

  “So, you’re a mean drunk. Good to know. Then I won’t feel bad doing this.”

  Jeremy pulled Neil into a sitting position and then hoisted him up under his arms. Neil was not cooperating. Jeremy muscled him into the bathroom and sat him by the toilet. Neil squinted and put his hand up to shield his eyes. “Too bright.”

  “Too bad,” replied Jeremy.

  Neil heaved and wrapped his arms around the toilet. He took several deep breaths and gagged loudly, but nothing came up.

  “You’re going to need something strong to pull you out of that whisky hole. You’re dehydrated. Do you have any electrolyte water?”

  “No,” Neil mumbled, “I haven’t been home in months.”

  “All right. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Neil growled, and Jeremy let out a high-pitched he-he-he laugh as he headed to the kitchen and came back with a large glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

  Neil groaned.

  “Drink it, or I’ll pour it down your throat myself.”

  Neil growled but took a few sips, wincing as he swallowed. When that was gone, Jeremy handed him another glass.

  “My head hurts,” said Neil.

  “Yeah, the fun never ends after a bender. And it’s only just beginning.” Jeremy turned on the shower. “Nothing brightens a day better than a nice, cold shower. Come on. Upsy-daisy.”

  “Get away from me. I’m not going in there.”

  “Now you’re a wussy? When did the great Neil Ames become such a wimp?”

  “I’m not. I … I’m just not steady on my feet.”

  “Not a problem,” said Jeremy, as he hoisted Neil up. “You can sit in there. It’s probably the cleanest spot in the apartment.”

  He plopped him into the shower. Neil let out a guttural yowl.

  “See? That’s not so bad." Jeremy grinned. "Stay there while I order some food.”

  “I don’t want any food.”

  “Too bad. Eggs and honey toast, black coffee, a couple aspirin, and a case of electrolyte water on the way.”

  Jeremy left the bathroom and noticed Neil’s wallet and cell phone on the bookcase. He took the phone from the charger and shut it off. After taking a credit card out of Neil’s wallet, he ordered groceries for delivery, including a sizable tip, and called Athena.

  “You made the right decision calling me. He’ll be back to his charmingly arrogant self before the day is over, or a week or two … Okay … That sounds good. I don’t know how long I’ll be here … Okay, see you soon.”

  He returned the card to the wallet and made coffee. “You okay in there?” he called out.

  The sounds of splashing water came from the shower, along with what seemed to be weeping that ended in a low growl.

  “Great!” Jeremy replied. “By the way, I used your credit card to order the food.”

  Jeremy surveyed the surroundings: Sketches and bottles strewn across the floor. Nightmarish images. A bed that smelled like stale sweat. He picked up the file with the scattered pages, thumbed through them, and dropped them back onto the floor.

  He closed his eyes and stood thinking. He took a deep breath, and his eyes opened. He grabbed Neil’s backpack and shook it out, then stuffed it with two wool sweaters, a pair of jeans, wool socks, underwear, and two Merino wool thermal shirts. After setting the backpack next to the door, he went back to the closet and pulled out a pair of hiking boots, Neil’s Carhartt Yukon parka, and put them next to the backpack. After gathering a pair of underwear, sweatpants, and sweatshirt, he took them into the bathroom. He shut off the water.

  “Time to get dressed, dude. Where are your bath towels?”

  Neil grunted and pointed toward a cabinet.

  Jeremy grabbed a towel and held it toward him. “Do you want me to help you out?”

  “No,” Neil snarled as he grabbed the towel, “I can do it myself.”

  “The food will be here soon.” His phone buzzed. “Wow, that was fast, they’re downstairs. I’ll run down and grab it. Get a move on.”

  “I hate you,” Neil muttered.

  “Good,” said Jeremy, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and disdain. “At least you’re sharing some of your self-loathing.” He headed out of the bathroom, and just before shutting the door, he grinned and said, “Happy Thanksgiving, dude.”

  Jeremy grabbed Neil’s backpack, coat, and boots before running out the door and down the stairs. He met the driver and tossed the bags of groceries, along with Neil’s things, into the back of his Jeep Wrangler. Then he went back up, carrying the bag of breakfast food.

  This wasn’t the first time Jeremy Wade had encountered Neil Ames during a full-blown meltdown. The last crisis had involved a PTSD flashback and hallucinations that trapped Neil back in Afghanistan, in the cave where he had been held captive and tortured, a place his mind would not let him escape. Neil had ended up in the VA hospital for three weeks.

  Jeremy, a former US Army environmental health specialist, had met Neil while attending PTSD therapy sessions at the VA hospital, where they discovered a shared college theater background. Action, not sentiment, defined their friendship: rigorous Krav Maga, jujitsu, and stage combat sessions. The physicality, the sting of a blow, spoke volumes, hinting at the unspoken pain and unresolved truths from their military service in Iraq and Afghanistan, which Jeremy sought to heal and Neil actively avoided confronting.

  Neil, emerging from the bathroom as Jeremy arrived, looked around the apartment with bewilderment.

  “Look, it is alive. Sit, if you can find a seat,” said Jeremy, “I’ll bring you a cup of coffee and make breakfast, but that’s it. No more coddling after that.”

  “You call what you’ve been doing coddling?” Neil asked with a snarky tone.

  Jeremy slipped out of his coat and went to the kitchen. He brought a steaming cup of black coffee out to the living room. “Dude, are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to do something?”

  “Put it here.” Neil cleared off the side table next to his overstuffed chair, dropping the papers and an empty bottle onto the floor. He glared at Jeremy through bloodshot eyes. “What’s this?”

  “It’s coffee, dude,” replied Jeremy. “Have you lost that many brain cells?”

  “Where’s the half-and-half?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s in the fridge; why don’t you look?” Jeremy broke eggs into a frying pan; they sizzled as they hit the melted butter.

  “You’re enjoying this way too much,” said Neil as he gingerly walked to the fridge for the half-and-half.

  Jeremy shrugged and grinned. “A little.” He popped bread into the toaster and opened a jar of honey.

  Neil made his way back to the chair and sipped his coffee. “I need aspirin.”

  “I think I saw them in the bathroom,” replied Jeremy.

  Neil stayed in the chair, sipping his coffee, glowering at Jeremy.

  “Here you go, dude. Eggs and honey toast, that’ll fix you up. Not as good as greasy diner food, but it’s better for you.” Jeremy put on his coat. “Cool, I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Athena made pumpkin muffins, and she invited me up. So, see you later.” Jeremy opened the door. “You need a shave—maybe you should do that when you get your aspirin.” He stepped out, then turned back. “And after you eat, you’re going to clean this apartment.”

  Chapter 6

  “Rise and suffer, dude.”

  Neil jolted upright, and an indiscernible curse came out of his mouth. He was freshly shaven, and his newly brushed teeth had left him with remarkably improved breath.

  Jeremy looked around the apartment. The papers and sketches were gone, as were the empty bottles of Jameson's, which had been returned to the box they’d come in. Neil had washed the dishes, and the rancid sheets and blankets were stuffed into a laundry bag next to the door. He had also fallen asleep on his freshly made bed.

  Jeremy went into the closet. He pulled out a North Face hoodie and Brooks Cascadia running shoes and tossed them onto the bed with Neil. “Put those on.”

  Neil groaned. “Kill me.”

  Jeremy grinned. “Oh, dude. Not today. Today, we run.”

  After nagging Neil to arrange a laundry pickup and shoving the laundry bag out the door, Jeremy danced down the five flights of stairs, pushing Neil forward as they passed the doors of football fans enthusiastically cheering the Thanksgiving game.

  At some point during Neil’s bender, the gusting wind and heavy rain had stopped. Going outside was a shock. A refreshing breeze, like a balm on his body, enhanced the vibrant blue sky and radiant sun, all intensified by the crisp November air. Neil shielded his face after a blinding flash of sunlight stabbed his eyes.

  “Where are we going?” he asked as Jeremy unlocked the Jeep.

  “To the waterfront. Where else would we go?”

  The sun glared off the water, and the seagulls cried as Jeremy ran along the Destiny Pointe waterfront promenade. Neil struggled to keep pace. Sweat dripped off his forehead, and the aspirin was wearing off. Jeremy was grinning like he was on vacation.

  “Dude, this air? It just makes you feel so alive. Deep breaths, man. In through the nose, out through the—”

  Neil glared at him. “I swear, I will throw you into the bay.”

  “Harsh. But you have to catch me first.” Jeremy picked up the pace.

  Neil stopped and walked over to a picnic table. He sat and waited for Jeremy, who turned and jogged back. Neil squinted as he looked out across the water. “Why are we here?”

  “Because you were marinating in self-loathing and booze, and I figured, hey, let’s switch it up. Fresh air, movement. Science says it’s good for your messed-up brain.”

  “Science can go to hell.”

  Jeremy chuckled. “Yeah, tell that to this place. Used to be a smelter here. Towered over everything. Puked out arsenic, lead, all kinds of nasty crap.”

  Neil kept watching the water.

  “Took ’em decades to clean it up. Whole thing was toxic,” Jeremy continued. “Now? Waterfront paradise. People running, biking, eating overpriced fish tacos. Total glow-up.”

  Neil grimaced. “And this relates to me how?”

  Jeremy grinned. “Cause you, my friend, are a human Superfund site. But cleanup’s possible. Might take a few decades, though.”

  Neil didn’t respond.

  Jeremy closed his eyes and turned his face toward the sun. “I might not be around to see it.”

  Neil looked at his friend. “What do you mean?”

  Jeremy stood up. “Let’s head back.”

  “What did you mean?” Neil demanded.

  “C’mon, we’re going to be late.” Jeremy began sprinting to the Jeep.

  “Late for what?” Neil called out.

  Jeremy motioned for him to follow. Neil groaned as he rubbed his head.

  What did he mean by “I might not be around to see it?” He’s trying to manipulate me.

  He watched Jeremy jog out of sight. He’s going leave me, forcing me to climb that steep winding road back home. He reached into his pocket and realized he didn’t have his phone. Damn it. Neil let out a howl and took his first step, only to be interrupted by a jarring honk. Neil glanced at the street. Jeremy revved the engine.

  “Let’s go, dude. You don’t want to miss Thanksgiving dinner.”

  The traffic backed up, horns blaring, as Neil strolled toward the Jeep. But then it occurred to him: He hadn’t thought about Emily all day.

  He climbed in, and Jeremy gave a friendly wave to the other drivers as he cranked up Don Henley’s “The Boys of Summer,” pulled a U-turn, and went the opposite direction.

  The music blared all the way across the Narrows of Destiny Bridge. Jeremy sang at the top of his lungs. Sunlight illuminated the whitecaps raised by the gusty winds. Neil imagined the winds cracking the bridge and plunging him to his death in the swift, icy waters below. The thought of it caused his heart to pound and his muscles to tighten. He held his breath and closed his eyes. Once across, Jeremy turned onto the Gig Harbor Airport exit.

  “Why are we going to the airport?” Neil asked.

  “I want you to meet someone,” said Jeremy.

  The airport was peaceful. Jeremy drove to a hangar and parked. “Go get some coffee.” He nodded toward one of the buildings. “I need to check in.”

  Neil scanned the field. A couple single-engine planes were parked along the edges, and a helicopter sat centered on a pad. He walked into the coffee shop and ordered coffee to go. As he waited, he picked a pair of aviator sunglasses with the darkest lens and paid for them, along with the coffee.

  When he slid on the glasses, it felt like his eyes let out a sigh of relief. Neil took a sip of his coffee and went out to meet Jeremy. As he approached, Jeremy opened the back of the Jeep and tossed Neil his backpack and hiking boots. Neil let them drop at his feet. “What the hell, man? I’ve got coffee.”

  Sliding his backpack, complete with a University of Hawaii patch and a large cartoon surfer print, onto his shoulder, Jeremy announced, “Come on, dude, we’re going to celebrate Thanksgiving.” He pulled out two bags of food. “And … we’re going on a hike. It begins here. We’re going to hike across the airfield.”

  “I thought there was someone you wanted me to meet. Where are we going?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Neil sat on the backpack. “I’m not going.”

  “It’s like dealing with a two-year-old. What are you going to do next? Toss yourself on the ground and throw a tantrum?”

  “No. I’ve come to my senses, and I’m done with you ordering me around.”

  “Drink your coffee.”

  “What? Stop telling me what to do.”

  “Finish your coffee.”

  “I don’t want to. Quit treating me like a child and answer my question.”

  Jeremy put the bags down and leaned against the Jeep. “You see that helicopter in the distance? That’s where we’re going. We’re going to fly around Mt. Tahoma, and today is the perfect day to do it.”

  “Where’s the pilot?” asked Neil.

  “Right here.” Jeremy grinned. “I’m a licensed helicopter pilot.”

  “What? Since when?”

  “Nearly a year, Neil.” Jeremy’s voice lowered to a serious tone. “Over a year, dude. Over a year has passed since I last saw you."

  Neil took a sip of his coffee. "It's been that long?"

  "Yeah, it's been that long." Jeremy shook his head. "I'm moving to Hawaii … in three weeks. I finished my PhD, dude. You can call me Doctor Jeremy."

  Neil stared at him.

  "Well, aren't you going to say something?"

  "I don't know what to say," said Neil. He took another sip of coffee. "Why are you moving to Hawaii?"

  "I’ve accepted a position at the University of Hawaii, joining an environmental research team in collaboration with the University of Tokyo.”

  Neil took another sip of coffee.

  “So, dude, finish your coffee because we’re going up. We’re going to look at a beautiful mountain. And you're going to say, 'Dude, congratulations. Well done! Moving to Hawaii, fantastic!' Then we’re going to land and hike to my cabin, where we’re going to have fun … with these.” Jeremy pulled out two hard-shell rifle cases.

  “I don’t hunt, and I don’t do target practice.” Neil took a couple swallows of coffee. “Wait … You pulled those out with ease … Those aren’t rifles.”

  “No, they are not,” said Jeremy. “See, you’re already coming back to yourself. You done with your coffee?”

  Neil took another swallow, then poured the rest onto the ground. He tied his bootlaces together and draped them around his neck, then shouldered his backpack.

  Jeremy tossed one of the hard-shell cases to Neil and handed him a bag of food, then locked the Jeep and hoisted his own pack and the case of water.

  “Follow me.”

  The chopper ascended, passing the treetops and the gleaming Puget Sound waters. They began flying east, toward the mountain, where the UFO clouds hovered.

  “Couple more days and we’re in for another soak,” Jeremy said, nodding at the mountain. “Best weather forecaster around, dude. No apps, no news. Just watch her … until she puts her clothes on and ghosts us.” He laughed with childlike joy. “Woo! This is the life. This is freedom.”

  The world stretched below them: jagged peaks, glaciers, endless sky. Somewhere between the rush of wind, the dizzying views, and the magnificence of Mt. Tahoma, something shifted. Neil gazed into the vast expanse of the sky and felt the altitude chip away at his emotional barriers.

  “So, dude. You gonna tell me what’s eating you alive, or are we just enjoying the view?”