CHAPTER 8
A GAME OF RISK

　
TONIGHT　
　

　　HELEN MUNSON WAS ON EDGE AS SHE SAT AT HER DESK AT THE STATION. Despite the radio being down, she would continuously glance toward it, praying for it to crackle with life. Praying that her grandson's voice would come through with something other than worrying words. She could still hear the urgency, the panic, the fear, in his voice. Whatever Eben had seen out there was bad.

　　Stella was just as worried, having been near Helen's desk when Eben contacted them over the walkie-talkie. They were confused about why they needed to get the shotguns and ammo from the locker, but Stella did what Eben said and got them ready, knowing that the situation must be serious if they needed firearms on standby.

　　But, of course, the shotguns had frightened the boys.

　　Ben had become attached to his grandmother ever since his father contacted them. He was terrified, crying for his parents. All he wanted was to be in his mother's embrace, the one place he felt the most safe in the world. But his Grandma Helen held him close, and he settled against her lap, head on her shoulder once more. Eyes glued to the door as he waited for it to open up again.

　　Eventually, Stella suggested they play a game of Risk to keep themselves distracted as they waited for Eben and Freya to return. The shaken Ben reluctantly agreed and helped his Uncle Jake set the game up for the four of them to play. And while the ten-year-old eventually calmed down, now distracted by the game, Jake would occasionally glance toward the holding-cell to stare at the prisoner, fear evident in his gaze.

　　"No way out of town, not now," the Stranger taunted them. He was standing in his cell now, watching them as they played their board game. "Nobody can come help."

　　"Shut up," Jake said.

　　"Ignore him, Jake," Helen told him.

　　"You can feel it," the Stranger went on. "That cold ain't the weather. That's death approaching."

　　Ben's features twisted with panic and fear, and he looked toward his grandmother, who quickly reached out to comfort him.

　　"Don't listen to him, Ben," Helen whispered. "He's just trying to scare us."

　　"Who'll go first, I wonder," the Stranger went on, looking at each of them as he spoke. "The woman who thinks a gun'll help? The scared wimpy boy? The Sheriff's kid? Or the dying old gal?"

　　"Shut up!" Jack shouted. He jumped up from the table, nudging it and causing pieces on the board to move. He then grabbed a handful of tokens and hurled them at the prisoner. They clattered against the bars and some even hit the prisoner in the chest, which caused him to smirk.

　　For a moment, silence enveloped the entire room as Jake and the Stranger stared at each other. Then Stella reached out, pulling Jake back down into his seat, and they continued the game with what tokens they had left. But Ben was too scared, scooting closer to his grandmother, the words of the prisoner repeatedly playing in his head. All the ten-year-old boy could think about was if they were all going to die like the Stranger had said.

　　"Oh, yeah. Thank you for the plastic," the Stranger said. He looked at the game pieces scattered at his feet before looking directly at Jake, who stared back at him. "I can snap that apart, pick the lock."

　　"No, you won't," Jake said.

　　"Jake, he's just⎯⎯"

　　Stella was cut off as Jake leaped up from the table and quickly crossed the room, bending down to pick up the game pieces he had thrown. But the Stranger was quicker, and he reached out, grabbing Jake by the arm and spinning the boy around. With one hand, he held Jake against the bars by the neck, and with the other, he pressed one of the game tokens against the teenager's throat.

　　The Fire Marshal was immediately on her feet and she drew her pistol in a flash, aiming it at the prisoner as Jake struggled to breath. Simultaneously, Ben let out a scream, and Helen reached out to comfort her grandson.

　　"Flick of my wrist, lady, and you'll be bathing in his arterial blood," the Stranger warned, staring at Stella as she held him at gunpoint.

　　"You need to stop talking now," Stella said. "Let him go."

　　"No, you need to shut the fuck up, bitch!" The Stranger shouted, jerking his hand and causing Jake to wince in pain. "Lower the gun and pass me the keys. Now!"

　　Stella hesitated, glancing from Jake to the keys sitting on Eben's desk. She knew that the prisoner was serious. If she didn't give him the keys, he was going to kill Jake, and she couldn't let that happen. And yet, she didn't have a clear shot. Jake was in the way, and she couldn't risk hitting him.

　　"Now!"

　　"I'm not lowering the gun."

　　The Stranger rolled his eyes. "Fine, but just get me the fucking keys!"

　　Edging sideways, Stella made her way over to Eben's desk. With her hand still on the trigger and eyes on the prisoner, she reached out with one hand and grabbed the keys.

　　"Good girl," the Stranger said. "Hurry, now. Gun on the floor first, then keys over here and in the lock."

　　Stella shook her head. "I can't put this gun down, you know that⎯⎯"

　　"You don't and . . ." The Stranger's arm tensed as his fingers tightened around Jake's throat, and then he pressed the plastic harder against the boy's neck. Their eyes widened when they saw a trickle of blood.

　　Stella immediately lowered her gun, raising her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm putting it down. Just stop. Let him go."

　　The Stranger stopped, watching as she squatted and placed the gun on the floor before standing up again. She slowly walked forward and slid the key into the lock. "Now turn the key, lady," he said.

　　"You let Jake go first," Stella negotiated.

　　His glare was dangerous, and it made Stella shiver and comply. "Turn. The. Fucking. Key."

　　She unlocked the cell.

　　"Good, now back away⎯⎯" the Stranger said as a bullet rang out and he was hit in the shoulder. He let go of Jack and stumbled backwards in pain as Ben let out a terrified scream.

　　Jake scrambled away and into his grandmother's arms. Helen held her two grandsons close, and Ben began crying as he stared wide-eyed at the blood quickly soaking through the Stranger's sleeve.

　　Glancing towards the door as it suddenly slammed shut, they watched as Eben rushed inside and toward the holding-cell, gun trained on the prisoner. "Back of your cell, or the next one goes into your temple."

　　"Shithead," the Stranger snarled.

　　When the prisoner didn't listen, Eben charged. He ripped open the cell, grabbed the Stranger by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the bars, lowering him to the ground. He positioned the Stranger's arms above his head, not even caring that blood was glowing from his shoulder, and then handcuffed him to the bars.

　　"Helen, get the first-aid kit," Eben ordered. "Not that this son of a bitch deserves it." He then ripped his hat off while  squatting down in front of the Stranger. "Alright, time to talk. How long have you been here?"

　　"Fuck you, Sheriff."

　　"See, it's like this," Eben said. "I think something bad is about to happen here. I think there'll be bodies. And as far as I'm concerned, I've no problem at all with you being one of them." He reached out, grabbing a fistful of the man's hair and ramming his head against the bars. "Who're you here with? Who wanted the copter screwed up? And the cell phones burnt? The sled dogs killed? And why would anyone do that to Gus?"

　　Even with his face pressed up against the bars, the Stranger managed a grin. "You'll see for yourself. Won't be long now. You're dead already, all of you. No point talkin' to dead men."

　　"If we're dead," Eben replied, "nobody ever lets you loose from here."

　　"I'll take that chance."

　　Eben raised the gun and pressed the barrel against the Stranger's forehead. The man only laughed. And this only angered Eben even more. All he wanted was some fucking answers. He was tempted to just pull the trigger, but then Stella's voice called out.

　　"Eben," she said, "don't."

　　"Eben," Jake then called out not even a second later, his voice much more urgent and panicked than Stella's. The sound of it worried him.

　　He looked up at his brother and that is when he froze. His son was clinging onto Jake, tears streaming down his pale face, and his breathing was labored. Ben was scared. But he wasn't just scared of the prisoner. Ben was scared of him. He had scared his own son because he lost control of himself, and now Ben was having an asthma attack.

　　Lowering the gun, Eben stood to his feet and walked out of the cell. He rushed over, kneeling on the ground in front of his son as the boy struggled to breathe. "Hey, Ben, look at me," he said, cupping his son's face in hands. The scared brown eyes of his son met his own. "Where is your inhaler? Do you have it with you?"

　　"M . . . M . . . My b-bag," Ben struggled to get out, and with a shaky finger, he pointed across the room to where the bag was on the floor near Helen's desk. Tears continued to stream down his face, and he fought to catch his breath to no avail.

　　"I'll get it," Stella said, darting across the room to grab the bag. She shuffled through the pockets until she found the inhaler, and then she quickly handed it off to Eben.

　　Eben guided his son over to his desk before putting the inhaler to the boy's mouth to ease his suffering. Once he knew Ben had taken the proper amount, he placed his hand on his son's chest to feel the rise and fall of his breaths. "That's it, buddy, in and out. Take it slow. That's it. Breathe with me, okay? Breathe with me. You're okay."

　　Eventually, Ben's attack faded and he was able to breathe again. Still, the boy was shaken up and launched forward into his father's arms. Eben held him tight, placing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

　　"I can take care of this for now," Helen said as she emerged from the back room with the first-aid kit, "but Freya should really stitch it up."

　　Eben stepped away from his son, who remained sitting at the desk. "Call Freya when the power's back on⎯⎯the fucker can wait till then."

　　"So what now?" Stella asked as Jake crossed the room, wrapping a blanket around his nephew's shoulders and sitting with the boy.

　　"There aren't many places his friends can hide. Billy and I can work our way from South Street toward the pipeline."

　　"I'll join you, too."

　　"I can handle it," Eben insisted.

　　She shook her head. "Eben, right now you, me, and Billy are the authorities. Be stupid not to take more help. And whatever your faults, you're not stupid."

　　Eben hesitated. He knew that Stella was right, that he and Billy would need all the help that they could get. But he didn't want to leave Helen, Jake, and Ben at the station with the prisoner alone.

　　"We've got walkie-talkies," Helen said, pulling tightly on the bandage around the Stranger's shoulder, causing him to grunt in pain. "We'll be fine in here. Won't we Jake?"

　　"I don't want you to go," Ben said, voice quiet. He had calmed down considerably by now, but his eyes were still red and puffy from all the crying and Eben could tell he was still shaken up and terribly scared.

　　Eben's eyes softened, but before he could say anything, someone spoke.

　　"Go where?"

　　Nobody noticed that the door had opened up and that Freya had walked inside. Simultaneously, their heads turned and they stared at her with relief. She immediately knew something was wrong as she looked around the room at each of them. Her eyes landed on Ben and her heart dropped when she noticed that he had been crying and his inhaler was on the desk.

　　He had an attack.

　　"What happened?" Freya asked frantically. She rushed over and knelt down in front of Ben. She cupped his face in her hands and then wrapped him in her arms, and Ben felt safe in her embrace. "Are you okay, baby? Did you have an attack? How bad was it? Do you feel okay?"

　　"He's okay," Eben reassured. "It wasn't bad. He just got scared and that triggered a small attack."

　　"Scared?" Freya asked.

　　Silently, Eben glanced toward the holding-cell, and that is when Freya noticed that someone was handcuffed to the bars and Helen was bandaging a man's arm. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood.

　　"What the hell happened?" Freya asked, standing to her feet. 

　　Eben ran a hand through his hair and sighed before explaining everything. He told his wife about the burnt cell phones, the helicopter, the sled dogs, Gus Lambert, and even the reason why he was forced to shoot the Stranger in the shoulder. And she just stood there, wide-eyed as she listened to every single word he said.

　　"Oh, my God," Freya whispered.

　　"I know," Eben said. "That's why I have to go back out there." She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "This guy isn't alone, he said so himself. But there aren't many places they can hide. I can find them."

　　"Eben . . ." Freya shook her head.

　　"I'll be okay," Eben said.

　　"He won't be alone, Freya," Stella chimed in. "I'll be with him. So will Billy. We'll watch each other's back."

　　Although that made her feel better, the thought of knowing Eben was out there with someone that murdered Gus Lambert and the sled dogs scared her. But she understood that his duty wasn't just to protect them, it was to protect the entire town. He had to go. Barrow needed him now more than ever.

　　Freya walked over until she was standing in front of him. "Stay safe out there," she said. "Please."

　　Eben managed a small smile as he reached out and rubbed his hands up and down her arms affectionately. "I will," he promised. Then he leaned in, giving her a quick kiss. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I don't care who calls. Stay here where it's safe."

　　"I'm not going anywhere," Freya reassured him, and her husband sighed in relief. After everything that he told her, she wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

　　Eben stared at her for a moment longer before glancing around the room and rushing to get ready to leave. "Keep the doors bolted. Keep the walkie-talkie on and the lights off." He glanced at the prisoner. "If he gives you any trouble⎯⎯and that means farting, coughing, or giving you lip⎯⎯there's a taser in the back." He looked at Freya. "You can patch up his arm if you want, but don't take the cuffs off and don't take him to your clinic for any reason. I want all of you here."

　　"Don't worry about us, Eben," Freya told him, "we'll be okay."

　　"Ready to go?" Stella asked.

　　Eben looked at her and nodded, then he tossed her the keys to his 4x4. "You drive. I'm riding shotgun."

a/n: lol y'all really didn't think that i was gonna wait to make them reunite, did you? come on, guys, i'm not THAT cruel, okay. obviously i was gonna have freya come back to the station, i just had to leave a little mystery hehe 😉