The Carrion's Craft

Chapter 4

When we got back to our apartment, the first thing I did was crash on our weathered sofa. It wasn't a long walk, maybe twenty minutes along the hill at most. But the lack of sleep and the experience of the crime scene was enough to knock us off our feet. The hubbub of the street below whispered to us as we sat there in silence, trying to process everything that happened. 

From the corner of my eye, I spied Drenin move to the fridge. His bowed head blocked the buzzing light. "We're going to need to do another food run soon?" The Bogeyman muttered as he kicked the door closed. A bag of bagels and a container of cream cheese were propped underneath his arm. I said nothing, allowing my eyelids to close whilst listening to the clanging of plates.

The peace didn't last forever however, a sudden bang from the glass startled me. Looking back, a crow stared at me from the windowsill. It's black beady eyes wouldn't abandon me as it pecked at the window. When I was younger, I remembered my Ma used to tell me anecdotes about birds. Mostly because my Da was an avid bird watcher. But this one, she said, was different. Dangerous and secretive. It pecked at the window again, breaking away any old amazement that had once filled my childish mind. It was just a stupid bird.

"Here, I left one for Gorby later on." Before I had a chance, a single bagel on a plate was thrusted into my hands before he headed to the office without another word. Our apartment was as rundown as Orly's on Happy Lane. It was dingy and cheap, with a front door leading into a living room that had been converted into an office, and a kitchen stuffed with the necessary utilities and a sofa.

I tried to force down my breakfast but my lack of appetite stopped me after two bites. It didn't help that the stale bread tasted like mush on my tongue. There wasn't much that I could taste nowadays, only the sour tang of coffee can remind me of my needs. Throwing my leftovers in the fridge, I headed into the office. To little surprise, Drenin hunched over a file with a quarter of his bagel in his mouth. A second plate covered in crumbs sat on the other side of the brown desk. At least Gorby was enjoying these things.

"I'm gonna call Claudia so we can give her the news. Hopefully she'll get the closure she's looking -"

"What're you doing?" I interrupted him. I had known Drenin ever since he had gotten out of rehab and joined his P.I. service. In that time I thought I had seen him at every angle, from when he had been jumped by a gaggle of goons to when he had broken up with his girlfriend. Even at his lowest point, when he was broken on the floor suffering from withdrawals, he was always able to sport a warm smile and a funny joke. But now he was giving me a cold shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered, his eyes never left the page.

"Yes you do." I levelled my gaze, unwilling to backdown. Despite his large stature, he looked so small from where I stood, as if his obsession for being involved with the Hunt was killing him. He finally stopped reading, and turned to face me, his face bore no emotion, as if he were made of stone.

"We shouldn't have left." He said, his mandibles grated against each other like cogs in a machine. Finally he got to the point.

"Of course we should've! I don't want to get framed for a murder we never committed." I said.

"We would never have gotten arrested. I still have friends in the Hunt and they would have seen that our prints weren't on anything." He replied, waving my remark away with his hand.

I gritted my teeth, "You don't know that. With the election coming up, I bet the mayor wouldn't mind wrapping up this whole serial killer thing with a neat little bow." Drenin simply scoffed as I gave him my theory.

 "Did you recognise any of your buddies there?" I demanded, eyes narrowed at the ex - hunter.

He stuttered for a moment, his gaze turned back towards the report on the desk, "No... but we were moving pretty fast, and they had their helmets on."