by Bera, Ilia
“You need to careful around him,” Brittany warned.
“Does he know about you?” Hanna asked.
“No.”
“You need to be careful too then,” Hanna said.
Brittany was silent for a moment. “Yeah, well that’s easy. I haven’t seen him for days now. He thinks the cops are onto him.”
“Can I ask you something?” Hanna asked.
“What’s that?”
“What do you see in him?”
Brittany was silent as she thought about it. “I’m not sure anymore,” she said softly into her chest.
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
LAYING LOW
Kane’s paranoia was quickly growing with every sleepless night. Anxiety built with every single cruiser that passed the apartment—anxiety that seemed to only get worse and worse, with no hope of relief. If it wasn’t for the many roadblocks on the highways, Kane would have been halfway across the country already. He had no choice but to hide.
On the morning of Snowbrooke’s final day of sunlight, Kane’s stress-level had reached critical mass. He was positive the cops were on his trail. He was sure: it was only a matter of time. Kane packed up all of his things into the trunk of his car, leaving the apartment as bare as the day he moved in.
With his sharp hunting knife, he cut off his long hair. He took a razor and shaved off his scruffy facial hair—determined to change his appearance—determined not to match any witness description that may exist.
For the first time in days, he was ready to go into public—he needed to buy new clothes. He slapped a baseball cap on his head and grabbed the backpack containing the last of his things. He locked his empty apartment’s door behind him and headed towards his building exit.
“Kane!” Tarun called out from down the hall before Kane made it to the door.
Kane turned towards his young Indian friend. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey—New look. I like it,” Tarun said with a smile.
“Yeah. I’ve got an interview today,” Kane said, shifting his eyes towards the door.
“Really? Good for you. Where?”
Kane smiled. “At a clothing store in town, just a part time thing—I’m actually running a bit behind, so if you don’t mind…”
“Oh—Of course. Hey, you don’t mind if I tag along? I need to pick something up from town myself,” Tarun said.
Kane was silent for a moment. “Um,” he said as he thought of an excuse.
“I won’t be out of your way. I’ll just get out at the clothing store. I’ll even keep quiet—don’t want to distract you from your big interview.”
“Sure, Tarun,” Kane said reluctantly.
“Cool! Let’s go.”
The two made their way outside and got into the old Mustang.
“Sweet ride,” Tarun said.
Kane fired up the engine. “Thanks.”
“I bet this thing gets moving pretty quickly.”
Kane forced a smile.
“Sorry,” Tarun said. “I’m being a distraction. I’ll shut up.”
“It’s fine, Tarun.”
“I bet you’re nervous.”
Kane started to pull away from the apartment building.
“This thing must have some pretty good tires on it,” Tarun said.
Kane simply forced another smile as he continued to drive.
“Have you started that assignment for class?” Tarun asked.
“Not yet.”
“I finished mine last night. I just need to get this email thing figured out, so I can send it in. I don’t want them to think that I rushed it, so I think I’ll wait until tomorrow before I send it in.”
“Good idea,” Kane said as he watched a police cruiser drive past his car.
“Lots of police out, huh?” Tarun said.
“Huh? Yeah. Lots…” Kane said. “Where did you say you were going?”
“You can just drop me off at your interview.”
“You sure?” Kane asked.
“Positive.”
Kane turned onto the town’s main drag, scanning store fronts for an open clothing store. After a moment, he located one and pulled over. Tarun looked around the street, and found what he was looking for, conveniently across the street from the clothing store.
“Hey—Perfect!” Tarun said as his eyes locked onto an open florist. “Maybe I’ll wait for you, and I can get a ride back—If you don’t mind.”
“Um, actually, I need to run some more errands.”
“Oh, okay. No problem. Thanks for the ride. It means a lot,” Tarun said opening his door. “You’re a good man, Kane.”
Kane smiled. “Take it easy, Tarun.”
Tarun stepped out of Kane’s car and made his way across the cold street towards the florist. Kane watched Tarun for a moment before stepping out of the car and heading into the clothing store.
“Close that door, please.” The florist was an older woman with thin curly blonde hair and a pair of tiny circular glasses. Her shop was practically empty, except for a few plain ferns. “The door,” she said without sparing a silent second.
“Hello,” Tarun replied as he shut the door behind him. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Can I help you find something?”
Tarun looked around, noticing there were no roses or bouquets—Just leafy ferns.
“Do you have any flowers, or bouquets?”
“What kind of bouquet are you looking for?” the old woman asked.
“It’s for a girl—Maybe a bouquet of roses or something—”
“Is this for your girlfriend? Does she have a favourite flower, or colour?”
“No—I mean, I don’t know. We only just met. I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, we don’t have any roses. It’s been weeks since we’ve gotten anything new, and none of our flowered plants are in bloom.”
“Okay—That’s okay. Maybe we could just put a few things together—Whatever looks nice,” Tarun suggested.
“Let’s see what we can do,” the old woman said, turning to assess what was available.
Wheeeoooo!
A number of police cruisers pulled up in front of the florist with both their sirens and flashing lights turned on. Both Tarun and the old woman spun around to face the action.
“Oh my,” the old woman muttered.
Kane’s heart stopped beating in his chest as the sirens stopped around his car.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hands began to tremble as he looked around the store for an exit. As Kane’s bad luck would have it, there was only the front door.
“What’s going on out there?” the manager of the clothing store asked, walking up to the front door. The manager was an older man—bald with a goatee.
More cruisers pulled up and stopped on the street.
Kane was caught.
He reached inside of his pea-coat and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his hunting knife—his mind was already plotting his escape. His eyes locked onto the store manager, and he began to quietly sneak up behind him. He could take the manager hostage, put the knife to his throat, make his way to the car. The manager to drive—Where? He didn’t know where, just yet—but he could figure that out once he was in the car.
“There’s gotta be fifteen cop cars out there!” the manager said, completely fixated on the street, completely oblivious to the armed Kane behind him.
Kane looked out at his car. The flurry of cop cars had left a space ahead of his car for a clean getaway. The sooner he acted, the better his chances. He firmly gripped the knife and got ready to follow through with his plan.
“Oh my God!” the manager exclaimed. “Do you think that’s the Vampire Killer?”
Kane looked up, over the manager’s shoulder. Outside, the police had Tarun in handcuffs. They were dragging him out of the florist.
“Fella?” the manager asked, looking back at Kane.
Kane quickly took his hand off of his knife and looked at the manager. “I don’t know. Mayb
e.”
The oblivious manager looked back outside. “I knew it was one of those minorities. They keep letting these people into our country—this was bound to happen eventually.”
Kane watched as the police threw Tarun onto the ground. A dozen police officers had their guns drawn, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. One of the officers was reading Tarun his rights. Officer Hendricks was standing nearby, by his car. He watched, unarmed, uncertain.
“I hope they give him the chair,” the manager said.
Kane watched silently with wide eyes. He knew Tarun was innocent—he’d seen Tarun stand in the sunlight. But there was nothing he could do.
“Fella?” the manager prodded.
“Huh?” Kane said, looking at the bald bigot.
“Can you believe the sand niggers they let into this town?”
Kane wanted to send the racist dirt bag straight to Hell—but he wasn’t in the clear yet.
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
SCAPE GOAT
Kane must have had a horseshoe far up his ass that day. Not even ten minutes after Tarun’s arrest, the police raided the Mumbar apartment building. They took Vish in for questioning, and searched every single room—Kane’s included.
One single hour sooner, and the police would have found all of Kane’s hunting equipment—Kane’s face would have been on every single television channel in a thousand mile radius. But by some miraculous, impossible stroke of luck, there wasn’t a shred of evidence that could prove Kane lived in the building. He was a free man.
Nowhere to go, Kane found himself in the corner of the Winter’s Den, watching the news unfold on the television. The place was as good as empty—just a couple of quiet loners, minding their own business in their respective corners. Eric sat behind the bar with heavy eyes, playing with the sunstone pendant.
“They are calling it one of the biggest act of terrorism in the country’s history. Indian immigrant, Tarun Mumbar, has been charged with fifteen counts of murder. His arrest came after a number of witness testimonies,” the news anchor said.
The television switched to an interview with an FBI agent: “We’ve been carefully watching Mumbar since the murder of Andrew Walker. Witnesses saw Mumbar assaulting Walker just hours before Walker was found dead. When we looked into Mumbar’s landed immigrant papers, we found a number of red flags. We found that the papers had been issued illegally. Once those pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the arrest was simple. It’s unfortunate that we weren’t faster in making this arrest.”
The news anchor returned: “Tarun Mumbar has made no statement, aside from claiming that he is not guilty. Mumbar has been taken into holding where he awaits a trial. Mumbar’s could face as many as fifteen life sentences—almost certainly the death sentence.”
Kane felt nauseous.
Buzz!
Kane cellphone began to ring on the bar table. The caller I.D. read, “Brittany”. He stared at the phone for a moment. He knew that picking up was a bad idea. He knew that he should get out of town, and forget about Snowbrooke completely—he knew that he was only going to hurt himself and Brittany by picking up that phone.
But he couldn’t help it, something inside of him grabbed the phone and answered the call.
He put the phone up to his ear and hesitated a moment. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Brittany said. “Where have you been?”
Kane was silent as he thought of a reply. “Around.”
“Did you hear they caught the guy?” Brittany asked. “That kid from our class.”
“Yeah—I heard.”
“Do you want to meet up?” Brittany asked.
“I don’t think now is a great time.”
Silence fell over the phone call. “Then when?” Brittany asked after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know,” Kane replied.
Kane’s reply was met with another long silence. It was becoming painfully obvious that their relationship would never work.
“I want to see you, Kane,” Brittany said.
“I want to see you too.”
“Then see me. Tell me where you are, and let me see you.”
“I—I just can’t right now.”
“Are you leaving?” Brittany asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Jesus, Kane. What are you doing to me?”
“I want to stay with you, Brit—But you know that it’s complicated. You know what I do for a living.”
“You told me you were going to give it up.”
“Tarun is innocent. The real killer is still out there, Brittany. How could I ever live with myself if you were the next victim? How could I ever live with myself knowing that I just gave up?”
“How do you know he’s innocent?”
“I just do.”
“I can’t keep holding onto the hope that we’re going to be together. I need to know, and I need you to tell me what to do.”
Kane sunk into his seat and closed his eyes.
“Kane?” Brittany said.
“It’s not going to work out, Brittany,” Kane said.
Brittany fell completely silent. The words stung hard. Her little glimmer of hope was shattered in a single moment.
“I’m sorry, Brittany.”
Brittany had nothing left to say. Unable to respond, she simply hung up the phone, leaving Kane with a flashing “Call ended” screen on his phone.
Kane took a deep breath, trying to keep himself composed—but his limit had been reached. Even Kane, the rugged vampire hunter, had his limit.
“Fuck!” he yelled, smashing his phone into the table, breaking it into small pieces. He wiped the tears out of his eyes.
Eric looked over at Kane wide-eyed from the behind the bar. “Are you okay, man?” Eric asked.
“I’m fine,” Kane said, standing up from his seat.
“You were in Andrew’s class, right?” Eric asked.
“Yeah,” Kane replied shortly before he grabbed his wallet. He took out a twenty-dollar bill and left it on the table as he walked towards the door.
“You want any change?” Eric asked.
Kane turned around. He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped as he realized what Eric was holding—a sunstone. Not just any sunstone, but a red sunstone—the very kind that he’d seen on countless vampires. “No—Thanks.”
Eric continued to stare at Kane, confused. “You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Kane said as he turned to leave. He had a new lead.
A complete stranger to Kane, Michael sat at the far end of the bar. Since the moment Kane walked in, Michael had an eye on the hunter. There was something off about Kane—the way his eyes were glued to the television, the way he jumped every time the front door opened—he was hiding from something, or someone. It was obvious that Kane had a secret.
Brittany sat across from Hanna at the little café across from the library with a large mug of hot chocolate warming her hands. Hanna stared out the large window, watching the snow float past. It was still early in the evening, and despite Tarun’s arrest, the streets were still silent. People remained tense, unsure.
“Things will be back to normal soon,” Brittany said.
“I hope so,” Hanna said, looking down as she took a sip from her hot chocolate.
Brittany looked down at her cellphone, which sat silently on the table. Something deep inside of her hoped that Kane would suddenly call to apologize—change his mind. But the phone just sat there, still—silent. “I can’t wait for this winter to be over,” Brittany muttered.
Hanna looked back up. “Yeah.” She noticed a familiar face across the street—
Eyes heavy, with his laptop and schoolbooks under his arm, Connor was leaving the library. Hanna watched as he walked down the street. Every single happy second together flashed through her mind, reminding her of the things she didn’t have in her life—reminding her that she was destined to be alone forever.
“Hey,” Brittany said, pulling Hanna out of her z
oned-out state.
“Huh?” Hanna said, looking over at her new friend.
“Try to forget him,” Brittany said.
Hanna smiled and looked down at her hot chocolate.
“It’s hard—Believe me, I know. But the longer you cling on to hope, the longer it will hurt,” Brittany said.
Hanna looked at Brittany for a moment, and then down at her phone. Brittany was a hypocrite. It was obvious that she was clinging onto a lost hope that Kane would call at any moment.
Brittany smiled and picked up her phone. She stuffed it into her purse. “Maybe I should start taking my own advice,” Brittany smiled.
CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
THE EYE OF THE STORM
Ding! Ding! Jingle!
The café door opened and a swoosh of frigid air blew through the warm café. The barista behind the counter perked up and put on her best smile. “What can I get for you today?” she asked in a perky, high pitched voice.
Michael pushed the hood off of his head as he stepped towards the counter. “Just a coffee.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Black,” he said.
The barista ran the order and then turned to make the coffee. Michael turned and scanned the room. His eyes landed on Brittany, who hadn’t noticed his entrance as she sat and talked with Hanna.
“One black coffee,” the barista said, placing the coffee on the counter.
Michael smiled at the barista and then turned towards Brittany. He walked over. “Hey,” he said.
Brittany turned around. “Hey,” she said, smiling.
“Making sure you’ve got enough caffeine for another all-nighter?” Michael said.
Brittany lifted her cup. “Hot chocolate,” she said with a smile. “Hopefully there will be sleep tonight.”
Michael laughed. “Yeah—Well, maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong.”
“This is Hanna. Hanna—Michael Fenner,” Brittany said, turning to Hanna.
“Hi—Nice to meet you,” Michael said.
Hanna smiled as she shook Michael’s hand.
“What are you doing down here?” Brittany asked.
“My car was having problems, so I took it into the shop. They said it would be a few hours, and now I’m trying to kill a few hours.”