Frostbitten: The Complete Series

by Bera, Ilia

  What does all of this prove? Maybe nothing—maybe something. Who knows? All that I know is, I’ve felt something before that defies any science that I know about.

  Whatever strange Life Force might exist in the world, Kane Patrick felt it too. That early morning when Kane stood at Brittany’s doorstep, he felt a particularly strong surge of energy lingering in his spine.

  It began at a very particular moment—the moment Brittany decided her problems would be easily solved by killing the hunter on the other side of her door.

  Kane looked back down the street, where a young passing woman cautiously watched him—nervous given the recent string of ritualistic murders that had plagued the small town of Snowbrooke. Kane stopped knocking on the door and composed himself. He stopped yelling to be let in, and smiled at the young passing woman.

  “Don’t get yourself arrested, Kane,” he muttered to himself through his forced smile. He considered running back home before the cops were called in on some domestic dispute call. He took a long, deep breath in.

  At the same time, he wanted to see Brittany and try to explain himself. While he weighed his options, he watched the nervously suspecting woman turn around the street corner, out of sight.

  Kane leaned his body against the door, defeated. “Brittany—Please open the door. Just give me one minute to explain,” Kane said.

  Suddenly, the door opened slightly. Kane stepped back. His heart rose back out of the pit in his stomach—all hope was not lost after all.

  “Brittany,” Kane said.

  “What is it?” Brittany asked.

  “I know that stuff makes me look like a crazy person—but I’m not. You have to believe that I won’t hurt you.”

  “Kane—I don’ think you are a crazy person. I just need time to think about it, okay?”

  “Can I come in?” Kane asked, pushing the door open more than the sliver Brittany held it at.

  Brittany swiftly stopped the door from opening any wider. “Not now,” she said.

  “Please?”

  “No, Kane.”

  “You need to understand that I do what I do to save people—I’ve saved a lot of people. I didn’t choose this life. It fell on to my lap. I didn’t want to take it, but I couldn’t live with myself, knowing that if I didn’t take it, people would die—People I could have saved.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe it scares me because I worry about you? Not me? You’re covered in scars and cuts! What if you get in a fight, and one of those cuts ends up across your jugular?”

  “That’s the risk I take.”

  “Okay, well it’s not the risk I want to take!”

  “Brittany—I want to be with you. I want you more than anything. Really—I do.”

  “Would you quit hunting?” Brittany asked.

  Kane sighed as he thought about it. “I—I just can’t. Morally, I have to keep doing it.”

  “Then you don’t want me more than anything. You’re greedy. You want everything, despite the consequences of others.”

  “Don’t say that,” Kane said.

  “Admit that it’s true!” Brittany said.

  Kane sighed again. His heart was pulling him in two different directions. Before Brittany, he’d never loved anyone. Maybe it was greedy to expect her to accept the risk to be with him.

  He clenched his hand into a fist, holding back a sudden surge of rage in his body. Being with Brittany, and remaining a hunter was unfair to Brittany. Being with her, and hanging up the crossbow was greedy to all of the future vampire victims. There was no happy middle—no situation where everyone benefits. At the end of the day, the only victim of injustice was Kane, who was yet again choosing the well-being of strangers over his own life. Kane’s life was, simply put, unfair.

  “Can you do me one favour?” Kane asked.

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell anyone about me or my secret—Especially not Hanna. Okay?” Kane asked.

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Don’t stay out alone at night. Don’t go into dark alleyways or parks. That’s where vampires like to feed. I’m going to track down the vampire in this town, and then I’ll be out of your life.”

  Brittany was silent as she stared down at her feet.

  “Bye Brittany,” Kane said.

  “Bye.”

  Kane turned around and left. Brittany closed the door and took a deep breath. She couldn’t gather the strength to go through with killing Kane. Her emotions overrode her sense of self-preservation. No matter how badly she wanted to remove herself from her feelings, she just couldn’t do it.

  She wiped the last of her tears from her eyes. Until Kane was out of town, she was going to need to be careful.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  ALIBI

  Kane sat in his old Mustang, watching Hanna’s house from a safe distance. He tried to drown out the sounds of his screaming emotions with the car radio. Whenever Brittany’s voice started to ring through Kane’s mind, he reached for the old rusted dial on the dashboard and turned the volume of up.

  But no matter the volume of the radio, he couldn’t get her beautiful face off of his mind. Angry, he slammed his dashboard with his fist, splitting his knuckle.

  “You idiot!” he yelled at himself.

  Blood started to pour out of the deep cut.

  “Shit,” he muttered as he pulled a first aid kit out from his glove box. As he opened it, the walkie-talkie he kept tuned into the police channel began to buzz and crackle.

  Crr-Chhhzzhttt!

  “We’ve got reports of another potential one-eight-seven down at twenty-five Boundary Crescent,” the female police officer said. “Neighbours heard screaming—suspect may still be on the scene. All cruisers please report.”

  “I’m five away,” an officer responded.

  Kane quickly looked the address up on his GPS. He was only a single block away.

  He fired up the old Mustang and drove around the corner towards the house. With his headlights off, he slowly drove up the road. The lights were on inside of the house. As Kane got closer, he could see blood on the walls through one of the windows.

  Kane scanned the quiet neighbourhood. Carefully, he drove towards the alleyway and looked down it. He watched the alleyway carefully, looking for any signs of movement. After a moment of stagnant silence, he drove up to the next alleyway and watched closely.

  Suddenly, a dark humanoid silhouette ran across the alleyway, leaping over a fence. Kane could hear sirens in the distance, moving towards the house. He drove up to the next alley and looked down it. Again, the mysterious fleeing figure ran across the alleyway, jumping a fence and running through the yard. Kane continued his silent pursuit.

  “This is Constable Hendricks. I’m at Boundary Crescent, on the scene of the one-eight-seven. There’s no sign of the suspect on the scene,” an officer announced over the radio.

  “Wait a minute for backup, Constable. It’s on its way.”

  “I can see a lot of blood through the window. Looks like another one of those vampire attacks.”

  “Roger that, Hendricks. Remain in the safety of your cruiser until backup arrives. Also—Let’s refrain from calling them ‘vampire’ attacks.”

  The police feared that the serial killer—or killers that were loose in the town took pride in the media calling them “vampires”. They tried to avoid using the term, suspecting that it was only further fuelling their desire to recommit. But it was a difficult term to avoid when the victims matched the classic vampire victim profile to a tee.

  Kane watched the next alleyway carefully, waiting for the ostensible vampire to make another appearance. After a moment, it did. The dark figure ran into the centre of the alleyway and looked around, deciding whether or not it was far enough away from the crime. As it stood still, Kane was able to make out a few details. The culprit was wearing a hooded coat, and was short; shorter than the average man—possibly a woman. It was too dark to make out much more than that.

  Af
ter a moment, the potential criminal casually stuffed their hands into their pockets and began to walk down the alley, away from Kane.

  Kane put his car back into drive and started to drive around the block, intending to cut the person off on the other side and see whom it was—and maybe even make the kill.

  Wheeeoooo!

  Red and blue lights suddenly flashed the inside of Kane’s car, startling the young vampire hunter. Kane had been too focussed on the suspect in the alleyway that he hadn’t noticed that a police cruiser had crept up behind him.

  “Shit,” he muttered to himself.

  Heart racing, he pulled his car over casually. His trunk was loaded with weapons and his police intercepting walkie was sitting on the passenger seat, next to his laptop, which was currently hacked into private police records. Frantically, Kane pushed it all onto the floor of the car. The blood from his cut knuckle was all over the steering wheel, and the dashboard.

  “Shit,” he muttered again, realizing there was more of a mess than he could deal with.

  He quickly scanned his rear view mirror as the police officer got out of his cruiser. He tried to use the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the blood off of his dashboard to minimize suspicion.

  Click! Click! Click!

  The officer tapped on Kane’s window, motioning for him to open it. Reluctantly, Kane did.

  “Good morning, officer.”

  “Hello sir,” the officer said.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “There was a bit of a break-in down the road, and we’re trying to see if anyone saw any suspicious activity in the past few hours.”

  “Uh—No. Not that I can think of,” Kane said nervously—his heart still beating rapidly against his chest wall.

  “Are you just on your way to work?”

  “Yeah,” Kane said.

  “Do you mind if I ask where you work?”

  “Uh—What?” Kane said. His head was spinning. Kane hated talking to the police more than anything.

  “Where do you work?”

  “The library.”

  “You work at the library?”

  “Huh? No—I’m going to the library. To study.”

  “Are you okay, sir?” the officer asked.

  Kane was silent for a moment as he recomposed himself. “Yeah. Just tired—it’s an early morning for me.”

  “Why so early?”

  “You know—Exams are coming up.”

  “Ah—Exams. I remember exams. I don’t envy you.”

  “Yeah—I’m just trying to get a jump on studying,” Kane lied.

  “I bet—I bet. I sure do remember those days—A lot of sleepless nights.” The officer chuckled.

  “It never ends,” Kane said, forcing a laugh.

  The officer looked at Kane’s car. “This is quite the car you’ve got here. Sixty-eight?”

  “Sixty-nine,” Kane said.

  “Oh—even better,” the officer said as he walked around the car. “You don’t see a lot of sixty-nines on the road these days. Especially not Mach Ones.”

  “Yeah,” Kane said, forcing an awkward laugh as the officer walked around the trunk of the car.

  He ran his hand over the car’s spoiler—fingers just inches away from Kane’s weapon stash.

  The officer walked around towards the front of the car. “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Huh?” Kane said.

  “Under the hood—Can I take a look? See what this thing is packing?”

  “Oh—It’s a bit of a mess right now—A lot of random replacement parts. It’s not the nicest thing to look at.”

  “You do the modification work yourself?”

  “Yeah,” Kane said.

  “All legal, I hope?” the officer asked.

  Kane was frozen while he thought of a response. They weren’t all legal—they were all stolen and put together in a way that no mechanic would ever call “up to code”.

  “I’m just kidding,” the officer said, walking back over to Kane’s window. “Look, I realize you’ve got a lot on your mind with exams and everything—I’ll let you go. You be sure to report any suspicious behaviour, okay?”

  “Okay officer, thank you.”

  “Are you okay?” the officer asked.

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “Your hand—It’s bleeding.”

  “Oh—I cut it when I was scraping the ice off of my windshield.”

  “It’s bleeding bad. It looks like it could use some stitches.”

  “It’s fine—really.”

  A look of suspicion suddenly crossed the officer’s face. He looked around the inside of the car, noticing the blood smeared on the dashboard.

  Crrcht!

  The officer’s walkie picked up a signal. “We’ve confirmed two one-eight-sevens at the Boundary house. Still no witnesses with an id”

  Kane knew that a one-eight-seven was code for a homicide.

  “Where’d you say you were going, sir?” the officer asked.

  “The library.”

  “To study for finals, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What are you taking at University?”

  Kane thought for a moment. “Chemistry,” he said.

  “Chemistry major? When’s your first exam?”

  “Um, Monday—I think. I’d have to check my schedule.”

  “Monday? What’s the test on?”

  The officer’s flurry of questions was making Kane increasingly nervous. “I’m sorry officer, but I really need to get to the library. I’m supposed to meet someone there.”

  “What’s your test on?” the officer asked again.

  Kane thought for a moment. “Organic Chemistry.”

  The officer looked around Kane’s car. “No school books? Where’s all your stuff?”

  “It’s in my,” Kane started, and then realized he didn’t want any attention brought towards his trunk. “At the library. I’m meeting a friend there—She has my books.”

  “Can I see your id?” the officer asked.

  Kane reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled his identification out and handed it to the officer. The officer looked closely at it.

  “You need to get your address changed, eh?” the officer said.

  “Oh—Yeah, I’ve been meaning to do that.”

  “Can I take a look in your trunk?”

  Kane thought for a moment. A cold breeze whistled through the car, making all of the hairs on the back of Kane’s neck stand up straight. “Really, officer. I need to get going.”

  “Just open the trunk please, sir.”

  Kane was frozen for a moment. He took a deep breath. He needed to think—he needed a solution.

  “Sir?” the officer prodded.

  “Sorry—Just a second,” Kane said. He reached down and pressed the button to pop the trunk.

  Click!

  The trunk unlocked. The officer began to walk towards it. Kane ran through all of the options in his head. He couldn’t drive away—he wouldn’t make it far in the snow, and they would certainly find him. But he couldn’t let the officer look in that trunk either.

  Then, he had another idea… He could back over the officer.

  Kane knew that it was horrible—he knew that it was murder—but if Kane went to prison, it meant more people would die. What was one innocent life versus countless innocent lives?

  Kane carefully nudged his car into reverse. He slowly pushed down the emergency break, and prepared to slam his foot on the gas. His eyes began to tear up with guilt.

  “There must be another solution,” Kane thought to himself as he watched the officer step around behind the car.

  It was now or never. His foot began to tremble as he slowly lifted his toes off of the brake.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  A FRIEND OR A FOE?

  “Excuse me, officer?” a voice called out.

  “Yes?” the officer replied.

  “I just saw a person with what looked like blood on t
heir jacket running down the alleyway,” the voice said.

  “Where was this?”

  “Just on the next block over—They were heading towards the town centre.”

  The officer pulled out his walkie. “We have a witness here who says they saw a potential suspect, covered in blood travelling southbound by foot. I’m going to pursue.”

  “Roger that.”

  The officer looked over at Kane’s mysterious saviour. “Do me a favour—call your local precinct and tell them you need to leave a witness report. If they ask, my badge number is zero-six-zero. Can you remember that?”

  “Sure thing, officer.”

  “Good luck on your final, sir!” the officer called out to Kane before he ran back to his cruiser and pulled away.

  Kane pulled his emergency break back up and pushed his car into park. His arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably with a combination of fear and the guilt of having considered committing murder. He looked down at his shaking hands.

  “Everything okay?” a voice said next to his window.

  He turned swiftly towards the voice. It was Andrew.

  “Huh?” Kane said. “Um, yeah—I’m good.”

  “You’re shaking. You wanna take a walk with me?”

  “Um—Sure. Yeah,” Kane said, opening his door and stepping out of the car. His eyes were wide and his pupils were fully dilated.

  “You’re having a panic attack. Here,” Andrew reached into one of his pockets. “Its just Ativan. It’ll calm you down. I get panic attacks sometimes.”

  “Thanks,” Kane said, accepting the medicine.

  “What happened? Want to talk about it?”

  “I just—I just get bad anxiety around cops.”

  “I think that’s pretty normal. My sister is like that too.”