Vampire Hunter Anonymous: Flight

Chapter Five

We had known each other before The Institute, all the way back to the orphanage. We had been selected as enrollees and had started our training at the same time. I had held nothing against him, but we had never communicated to each other, both of us opting for solitude rather than socializing.

I felt a pang of guilt collide with fear, knowing I had sealed my fate.

Before I could linger on the thought, I grabbed the arrow, rose to my feet, scooped the girl off the ground and threw her across my shoulder. I was surprised at how light she was. I jumped out the window and laid her on the wet grass while quickly getting my things together. I pulled the backpack open and grabbed the law enforcement zip ties I carried. I would have to get her on the bike with me, and I couldn’t exactly have her falling off. I collapse the crossbow, stick it in the case and return the Glock to its spot, leaving the magazine in place. I bring her to the Ducati, sit her on the back of the seat, and hop on while maintaining my grip on her. Her face slumps lifelessly against my back as I take her hands and wrap them around my waist, using a zip tie to secure them there. It looks suspicious to say the least, but I had no other options and I had to leave the scene. It was only a matter of time before the police got the call from the IOE, and came over to wrap things up. They would know immediately that something had gone wrong.

I keep the engine hot as I race dangerously through traffic, weaving in and out of cars and trucks as they whiz by in a blur. I keep the bike pegged at one hundred and forty on the interstate, but slow down once I reach the mountainous roads towards the lake house. The tranquilizer would keep her sedated for fourteen hours minimum, giving me time to formulate a plan.

Driving through the twists and turns, I find my mind wandering back in time. I begin to think of Marcus, the first time I had met him, the classes we shared—both at the Catholic school the orphanage ran, and then at The Institute. Most of the memories were silent ones, due to his quiet nature. I think back to the day two bald men in suits came to the school. They pulled Marcus, myself and seven other boys from various grades out of class, and told us we were being transferred. We left in a white van with no windows or backseats, and hours later arrived at an isolated building that they called a school but looked like a prison camp. Our training at The Institute started that day.

I pull into the drive of the small lake house and feel a pang of sorrow for killing Marcus. Had I known it was he, there may have been a different outcome, but something had possessed me when I saw the girl in danger, it was as though I had been operating on some primal level, and had little, to no control over my actions. I park the bike and carry the girl inside.

I lay her down on my cot and stare at her. The reality of what I've done finally sinking in. In trying to correct my errors, I had violated the most sacred law of The Order, I killed another member of the cloth, something I had never heard of happening before.

I could only imagine what they would have in store for me.

I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I couldn’t help but hate her. Everything had been fine until she came along. Without thinking about it, I find myself fingering the blade in my sleeve. I cast my gaze away from her, killing her now wouldn’t solve anything. The consequence of what I had done would sit on my shoulders alone.

“Got yourself in quite a messy situation my boy…”

A rusty voice croaks behind me. The blade drops from my sleeve into my hand as I swung around. The rough sound of a match on a striker fills the air as a flash of fire illuminates his face. I feel my muscles slacken at once. It was Digsby, my mentor. But why was he here? “..Dr. Digsby..?” I ask questioningly as the old man sucks the flame from the match down into a long wooden pipe. “Yes, it is I.” He says slowly after blowing out a cloud of thick smoke. The sweet aroma of tobacco fills the room. He blows the match out and take several long tokes on the pipe. “Why—“ I couldn’t think of what to say, so he saves me the trouble. “Why am I here?” He gazes as me, the red light from his pipe allows me to see his soft old face. “You should know that Adrian… After all, you were my last pupil.” The shock of his presence keeps me from thinking clearly. He sees the confusion written all over me. “I couldn’t exactly leave you high and dry now, could I?” He smiles, and crows feet form around his pale blue eyes. “It would be such a waste to see someone with as much raw natural talent as yourself go to waste.”