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Aaron knew that Tommy would be furious with him, but he couldn't help but go in his friend's place when he caught sight of the mysterious text message. His phone had gone off while he was taking a shower and Aaron had glanced at the screen to see if it was something urgent, but what he saw instead was a cryptic text that instantly raised his suspicions. Neither him nor Tommy had changed their phone numbers in years, so the message could have been from almost anyone, but the way the sentences were formed reminded Aaron of someone who he used to know. The fact that she was contacting Tommy while they were actively hunting her was more than a little confusing.
After carefully deleting the message and removing all trace of it, Aaron made the excuse that he was going on a supply run and left the motel alone, driving off into the night while feeling guilty about lying to Tommy’s face. In his defense, all he wanted to do was protect his friend. It was an act born out of love for Tommy, not malice, however he knew that his deception could come back to bite him if he didn't proceed with care. They weren't usually the sort to lie to each other, so it was highly likely that Tommy could end up feeling betrayed and that was the last thing on Aaron’s mind. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stand the look of heartbreak on his friend’s face should his deceit be discovered, but it was a risk that he had to take.
Although he understood the need for secrecy, especially when one was being hunted, Aaron wished that the chosen meeting place was somewhere a little more public. The underside of a bridge adjacent to a disused rail yard was inconspicuous enough, but it was also a place where a dead body could be dumped and left undiscovered for any number of days. It was that very thought that made him start to consider the fact that he may have stumbled into a trap. Perhaps the message was designed to lure Tommy out so that he could be killed without Aaron being there to watch his back, or maybe it was just another bout of paranoia kicking in.
The street lights high on the bridge above did little to fend off the shadows beneath it, leaving Aaron in encompassing darkness as he waited in the driver’s seat of the truck. He had already turned the engine off, leaving the key in the ignition as he grounded himself in silence, with no headlights to illuminate the area in front of him and no hope of a quick escape. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny, staying peeled in the hope of spotting anyone approaching before they could get the drop on him. He wasn't willing to allow anyone the chance to sneak up, feeling a sense of unease as he idly toyed with the machete that rested next to him on the passenger’s side of the cab.
Aaron’s due diligence soon paid off as he caught sight of a shadowy figure cautiously approaching from the opposite side of the bridge’s arch, the slim outline of their figure and the familiar walk letting him know that his suspicions had not been unfounded. Christie had tried to organise a secret meeting with Tommy, most likely with the goal of manipulating him to her cause. He knew that when it came to Christie Reece, his friend had trouble thinking clearly, and it was a pattern that had repeated itself on more than one occasion. Her plan to sway him may have succeeded too, had Aaron not intercepted the text and gone in Tommy's stead.
As Christie grew nearer, Aaron could see her pace slow to a crawl as she began to sense that something was amiss. Before she could have second thoughts about the meeting and flee from the scene, Aaron opened the truck door and stepped out to reveal himself, watching intently as his old friend visibly tensed her muscles in surprise. “Aaron!” He could see her nervously eyeing up the blade in his hand as he held it by his side, but she made no attempt to run, instead waiting for him to make the first move. “Please, don't…”
Aaron was feeling tense himself, remembering that she was more than capable of taking him down should she wish it. She was only a few feet away and was a bigger threat to him than he was to her. Regardless of the fact, he spoke to her as calmly as possible, trying his best to purge any signs of fear or weakness from his voice. “Were you expecting someone else?”
Christie was clearly saddened by the sudden turn of events, still unsure as to what to make of the situation as it unfolded. “Tommy isn't coming, is he?” Her disappointment was clear, but he tried not to take it personally.
Aaron shook his head slowly, tapping the flat side of his weapon against his leg. “No, he isn't. He doesn't need to deal with your bullshit.” He wasn't usually one for swearing and she knew it, but he wanted to get his point across.
“Get out of my way, Aaron. I don't want to fight you again...” Christie’s face was still obscured by shadow, her expression difficult to see in the blackness.
Aaron sighed loudly. He tired of the chase, but he wasn't sure that he could go through with it now she was within his reach. “I don't want to kill you either, but you know that I can't let a monster like you go free. There are people that need my protection.”
He didn't need to see the look on Christie's face to know that she was starting to get agitated. “You already made it clear how you feel about me, Aaron... I'm an evil monster that you need to put down. You always did see things in black and white.”
Christie was both right and wrong at the same time. Aaron knew that he had a job to do, but he still struggled to believe that she was inherently evil. Perhaps there was another way to resolve the issue, meaning that things didn't need to escalate further. He tried his best to compromise. “It's not that simple and you know it… Let's make this easy. Hand over Sam Mitchell and I'll let you go. I won't even tell Tommy that I met you here.”
Christie snarled, her hands balling into fists as she made a sound that wasn't quite human. “I won't hand Sam over to you! He doesn't deserve to be marched to his death, and being an accomplice to that would make me a bigger monster than even you think I am!”
There was a long pause as both of them stared each other down, neither quite knowing what to say to ease the situation. Eventually, Aaron decided to speak up, still unsure of how to break the standstill. “Then how do you suggest we proceed?”
Christie shifted on the spot, seemingly unnerved by the possibility of another full on confrontation. “That’s what I was hoping to speak with Tommy about. He’d be a little more open to…”
Aaron snapped, cutting her sentence short. “You've hurt him enough! He doesn't need to see you! Not now, not ever!”
Christie sighed with resignation, which seemed odd to Aaron as he had already noted her unnatural lack of breathing; one of the telltale signs that he was dealing with an undead creature and not a living human being. Doing his best to avoid eye contact, he remembered how she had dominated his mind the last time they had met. She had clearly noticed his blatant attempt at avoiding her gaze, but didn’t respond right away, seeming to mull things over before hitting him with a question that came straight out of left field. “Do you remember how things were back in Michigan? Life was so simple and full of joy. We were happy there. If only things hadn’t changed. I just wish… I wish you hadn’t left me behind.”
Caught completely off guard, Aaron hadn’t been prepared to talk about his childhood with Christie. He wasn’t sure if she intended to stagger him with memories of days gone by or whether she was just feeling strangely nostalgic. Either way, he didn’t back down from the conversation, the handle of his machete still grasped firmly in his hand. “Of course I remember, but I can't change the past. What's done is done.”
The way she looked at him made it seem as though she was contemplating their childhood and genuinely regretted the way that everything had ended between them. Those apparent intentions were mirrored closely by the sincerity of her words. “I know… but then Tommy would never have met me and he could have lived a normal life. We’d all have been happier for it.”
Aaron shrugged his shoulders, not really caring for what might have been when history had already been written and former events set in stone. “Maybe, but it didn't work out that way, did it? Besides, it wasn't all bad.”
Christie had to admit that he was right about that. “No, it wasn't. You int
roduced me to him when I needed it the most, and he helped me turn my life around. Those were the best days of my entire life, and as bad as things have gotten since then, I still remember them fondly.”
Aaron’s patience was starting to wear thin, but he wanted to see where the conversation would take them. “Me too, but that doesn't matter now.”
The end result was far more important than reminiscing about old times. However, Christie didn't seem to agree with his lack of sentiment. “It matters to me… We’ve been friends our entire lives, Aaron. It was hard for me to forgive you when you left me behind, but I did. I never forgot how it felt to be alone, but I forgave you for that and for everything that happened to me after.”
It made Aaron feel uncomfortable that she had once harboured such resentment towards him, but he also felt anger at her words. “You can't blame me for that... It wasn't my fault.”
Christie nodded her agreement. “I know, but that's how it felt.” There was another slight pause as she carefully phrased her request. “Let me go, Aaron. Both me and Sam. He's all I have left and we're no threat to you.”
She should have known better than to ask something so impossible of him. Past experiences had made Aaron resolute in his belief that monsters were a danger to humankind and that they were a menace that had to be wiped out. He had seen too much pain and destruction to have his opinion changed so easily. “You're a vampire, Christie. You drink the blood of innocents and that means you're a threat to everyone, including me. I can't let you live!”
The harsh response didn't stop Christie from pleading. “Please, Aaron. Just let us go. Forget we ever existed and you’ll never hear from us again.”
Lifting his machete to bridge the gap between them, Aaron pointed it directly at Christie’s face. Her eyes widened in shock as the razor sharp edge stopped barely six inches from her nose. “No. Tommy needs his closure. You can leave for now, but don't try to contact him again. We'll see you soon enough and you can count on it being your final night.” He needed to let her know that he meant business and that he wasn't there to bargain. This meeting was meant to act as a warning and a promise of things to come. As soon as he was certain that she had gotten the message, he placed the machete back down at his side.
Christie lowered her head, looking down at the ground between them. “I see… So that's how it's going to be. I hate that things had to go this way. Goodbye, Aaron. I hope that you don't take it too personally when I fight tooth and nail for my survival.”
They both knew that there was no hope of reconciliation or a friendly embrace. The rift in their relationship had grown too wide and it was way beyond mending. As Christie turned to leave from where she came, Aaron made sure that he got the final word. “It's nothing personal… It's just what has to be done.” He stood there, weapon still at the ready as his old friend disappeared back into the dark.
Remaining motionless until he was certain that Christie had gone, Aaron began to breathe heavily, his body now suffering from the stress that he had felt throughout the entire meeting. He was no longer sure why he had decided to go alone, as he could have simply deleted the message and purged it from his mind. Perhaps it was because a face to face meeting could provide the finality that he needed to make the necessary decision to end her existence once and for all.
As much as Aaron had once loved Christie, she was dead to him and he had put that ghost to rest a long time ago. He was now prepared for the final hunt and would be ready to deal the killing blow when the time came. There was no doubt that Tommy wouldn't be able to finish her off, and so he would have to do it for him. After all, a vampire was still a vampire. An evil being that stalked the night and preyed on those who couldn't defend themselves. There was no place in the world for something so unnatural. Christie Reece had to die, and Sam Mitchell along with her.
Chapter Eighteen: Nowhere to run.
It had been three nights since Sam and Christie had camped out in the warehouse, and her secretive meeting with an old friend that had refused to bear any fruit. Their stay had been interrupted that same night by the tireless Huntsman who had somehow tracked them down, with another desperate getaway resulting in them expending more blood than they should. The resulting hunger had barely been satiated in time, with both of them coming dangerously close to losing control to the beast inside. It was that unrelenting hunger that led to them feeding together for the first time, as Christie carefully guided him through the process.
Sam hadn’t tried to draw blood from a living, breathing human in a long time, his botched attempt in Birchfield resulting from his own lack of fangs. The very thought of it made him feel anxious, but Christie had a way of putting him at ease, turning the act into a surprisingly intimate experience. She undertook the majority of the work herself as she punctured the man’s neck with the points of her teeth and crimson streams began to flow from the open wound.
Sam’s revulsion lasted barely a second, his mind screaming out for him to drink from the font of vitae as it was offered up to him as a sacrifice. Although less potent than the blood he regularly drained from his companion, the intoxicating solution was as delicious and satisfying as he could have hoped for. It was like the finest of wines, if wine was necessary for your continued survival and you were an alcoholic with an incurable thirst for it.
Once the deed was done, Christie had lapped up the final drops from the man’s bare flesh, sealing the wound with her tongue as she left him with enough blood to live, although he would feel extremely weak and nauseous in the morning. Leaving the body safely tucked up in a doorway, Sam peered into Christie's eyes and could see the same beast still raging within her that he had deep inside of him. There was no doubt that she had killed before, either on purpose or by accident, but now she was trying to be someone different. Someone better. She wasn’t the type to revel in death and didn’t enjoy being the cause of it either, but Sam was sure there were many like them that wouldn’t even bat an eye at the thought of taking a life.
Ever since that night, Akoni the Huntsman had turned up out of the blue on more than one occasion, causing Sam to conclude that he was tracking them via the GPS on their unsecured cell phones. The only option left was for them to ditch their phones and forgo the conveniences of modern technology, something that had become easier over time. The longer the pair were without their phones, the less they felt that they needed them, with the withdrawal symptoms soon beginning to fade. A lack of search engines, email access and other similar applications became a strangely liberating experience for them both, allowing them to enjoy whatever time they had left together without distractions.
With no sign of the Huntsman for a while afterwards, Sam was convinced that his plan had succeeded. He felt as though he could rest easier, however Christie was still on edge. She wasn't so sure that they were out of danger yet and was starting to believe that they would never be able to leave the city. Of course she was right, and it didn't take long for TJ’s right hand man to find them again. However he was tracking them, it wasn't through the use of technology, and now they were left without a way to call anyone for help.
They had tried to leave Miami by bus, but Akoni was waiting for them at the depot. The train station hadn't been safe either, with the Huntsman already standing on the platform when they arrived. Even the car they had stolen had been smashed to pieces when they made a last ditch attempt at driving away, but neither Sam nor Christie had been injured in the attack. Everywhere they went, the Huntsman was somehow already there. It would have been easy for him to kill them both, but it seemed that he took pleasure in toying with them and watching them squirm. The man clearly enjoyed the thrill of the chase and wanted to draw it out for as long as possible.
Sam felt drained, the result of struggling for his survival without hope of respite. The psychological effects of running night after night were starting to take their toll, with him becoming convinced that he was developing a nervous tick. He jumped at every sound, expecting the door to burst in at an
y moment. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up, beginning to wonder if he should just surrender and accept his fate.
The modest sized apartment they had broken into was posted for rent, with no furniture or belongings inside. A little more upmarket and far more luxurious than their recent string of accommodation, the entire place had been left spotless. It seemed that the owner had cleaned it for potential viewings, with the aim of getting a new tenant as soon as possible. However, the lack of curtains and threat of people showing up meant that they couldn't shelter there for the day, but it gave them a place to rest for a moment before the inevitable chase.
Christie had locked herself in the bathroom so she could freshen up, and Sam could hear the shower running, the light shining out from beneath the door as he paced back and forth in the dark. He had already changed out of Jacko’s old clothes and into the ones that they had ‘acquired’ hanging from a line down the street. The polo neck shirt and jeans fit surprisingly well, a pleasant change from what he had been wearing for the past few days, but he still didn't feel like himself. It felt as though he was trying to be someone else entirely and that he hadn't been Samuel Mitchell for quite some time now.
As the sound of running water ceased, Sam couldn't help but peer out the windows for any sign of Akoni, the threat of Christie’s old hunter friends now a distant memory. As terrifying as it had been to face them, they were nothing compared to what he had seen since. The Huntsman had been there at every turn, seeming to appear from nowhere. It was almost as if the well dressed man could be everywhere at once, with little effort expended on his part. Christie had called it omnipotence, but Sam didn’t believe that such a thing was possible. Fortunately, the street was currently clear and there was no sign at all of Akoni or his car, at least for now.
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