The Thirst

The room was cold.

But that wasn’t why the goose bumps covered her arms, or why the hairs on the back of her neck refused to lay flat. Her palms were sweaty — had her palms ever been sweaty? Maybe once, when she was a teenager, holding her boyfriend’s hand for the first time.

She wished she could be back there, in that dark theater, at the mercy of some awkward teenager as he tried to cop a feel any chance he could. She almost laughed when she thought about that memory, because she had remembered thinking back then, what felt like a lifetime ago now, how that would be the scariest thing she’d ever have to deal with.

Some kid with roaming hands and bad breath. God. She had been so naive.

If only she had known then how fucked up the world is. Maybe she would have enjoyed herself more. Maybe she would have let that kid get really lucky.

She leaned back on the steel chair and ran both of her hands through her long brown hair. It was still wet. Most of her was, actually, which was probably why it felt so cold in the room. Though, she was pretty sure she recalled someone tell her once that the police kept interrogation rooms chilly to make sure the person getting interrogated was uncomfortable. Or had she seen that on a TV show? She wasn’t sure.

She looked around, let her eyes linger on the large glass panel a few feet in front of her. She wondered if someone was on the other side, watching her. She couldn’t fathom why they would, it wasn’t like she was here because they thought she was capable of the devastation that happened at the park.

No, that wasn’t possible. Was it? Again, she almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

But then she remembered the water park. How everything had started off so nice, so . . . happy. There was something magical about the way kids laughed, especially when they were having fun. When nothing else in the world mattered.

Her stomach dropped and her heart race spiked again as she remembered the way the laughs turned to screams.

She stood up and paced. She had to move. Had to force herself to think about something else. Anything else. It was a fool’s errand: she’d be thinking about today for the rest of her life. It would fuel her nightmares for a countless number of sleeps ahead of her.

There would never be any forgetting the man who swallowed up all those kids.

She shivered just as the single door in the wall behind her opened. She turned to see a couple of plain clothes detectives walk in. One tall and round, the other short and rail-thin. They were a lesson in contrasts: the tall one with a full head of hair, the short one with a shaved head. Neither had any facial hair, though.

”Ms. Greene? How about you take a seat for us?” the short one said as they both stepped to the other side of the table, slid the other steel chairs out, and sat down.

She went back to her designated chair and sat, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

”Did you find him?” she said.

The tall one shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “No sign of anyone.” He paused, cleared his throat. “Other than the bodies.”

The short one leaned forward in his chair. “My name’s Detective Kerrigan. This is my partner, Detective Yancy. Is it okay if I just be completely frank with you?”

She nodded.

”No one can make sense of what happened today. There’s just . . . no way to explain it. And let’s be clear: the only reason you aren’t in handcuffs is because there are others who can corroborate that you didn’t hurt anyone.”

She nodded again, a little slower this time.

”But what you told us? It’s nonsense. It’s impossible, Ms. Greene. And the fact you’re sticking to this story about a guy who swa— it’s ridiculous. How are we supposed to catch whoever killed all of those kids if you won’t be honest with us?”

The detectives watched her, eyes twitching back and forth as if they were waiting for something. She could only watch them back. She didn’t know what to say. She was sticking with the story she told them, as ridiculous as it was, because there wasn’t another story to tell.

Her skin crawled and she had to look down, look away from the stares that bore through her. She wished the truth was simpler, that it made any sense at all. But it didn’t. What she saw happen defied logic. Defied reality.

And yet, it happened.

Detective Kerrigan said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Greene. It’s just — we’ve never seen anything like this. Not just us, but this town. We’re a small community and this sort of thing just doesn’t happen.”

She looked up, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “It shouldn’t happen anywhere!”

The tall one, Yancy, leaned forward. “You’re right. It shouldn’t. And we want to catch the guy who did it so it doesn’t happen again. So, I know this is hard, but can you go over what happened with us again? Tell us what you saw?”

Her entire body shook. Vibrated past her bones, down to the pit of her stomach. She was nervous all over again, right on the cusp of the terror she had felt back at the water park. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to calm her nerves.

If she needed to go over it again, so be it. Especially if it meant the cops might have a better chance at finding the monster who had destroyed so many lives.

She looked at the detectives. “Okay,” she said, her voice shuddering. “It started off fine. I don’t think anyone even noticed the guy in the business suit until he walked under the water and his mouth just — kept getting bigger.”

She took in a sharp breath. The memories flooded back. Maybe now they’d never leave.

”And then he started eating them.”