Immortal Ash

Chapter 10

The rain ended in the afternoon, but Igor, engrossed in reading, did not notice it, nor did he forget about hunger.

He reread the information twice, leaned back in his chair and ruffled his dark hair. Then, setting the laptop aside, he pushed his notepad over to him and picked up a pen.

The detective who had found the witch doctor's address had sent a detailed report on the places where Lera and her grandmother had lived all this time. Igor first wrote out the settlements, and then, realizing that the main thing is not in this, marked the key years of Lera's age.

Until the age of three, the girl was with her parents, and after their death, the granddaughter was taken to her grandmother. For two years they lived here, and then left on their first journey-skipping. At the age of seven Lera was again brought to the township, and at her nine was again taken away, and this time the backwoods travels lasted nearly six years. At the age of fifteen Lera lost her grandmother, but shortly before that they returned again. For the last two years, the girl lived in the town with her paternal aunt.

Why did Lera's grandmother so often change places of residence, but at the same time after some time brought her granddaughter to the town? Igor could only speculate. Maybe they returned because they needed a connection to this place, but did not linger because they were hiding from someone. Was it not from him? The last time Igor had almost reached his destination, the witch had fainted and kicked him out. A curse! His terrible curse, a curse that only a woman of the clan could break.

Igor glanced at the notebook, but instead of triumph, he suddenly felt anxious: what if he was on the wrong trail again? What if something happened right now that would take him away from his goal again?

He had never had enough time to search: too often he was thrown from one life to another. There were so many of them, these alien destinies, that he had stopped even counting them. Who he was, what his name was, who he drank with in bars, with whom he shared his last crust of bread, who gave him water, what the names of the women he caressed were - all of that was no longer memorable. Ironically, the more he moved away from that day, from which he began his endless journey, the more often and in greater detail remembered his real life and that girl...

But this time everything was going differently.

Igor went to the window and smiled when he saw that over the gloomy forest hung a rainbow of different colors. The wet meadow glistened with rich greens, and he wanted to run barefoot on it, spreading his arms and throwing his face up to the sky that was pure in its thoughts. To run and swallow joy together with the strong air, to laugh with delight and drink life in intoxicating gulps, but not because he had suddenly awakened a thirst for it, but because he was preparing for death. For the long-awaited, beautiful one that had been eluding him all these years and now finally turned around to face him. His death had clear blue eyes and a beautiful young face. His death's name was Lera, and he had finally found her. She was now so close that Igor was no longer in a hurry, on the contrary, he wanted to know everything about Lera: how she lived these years, what was her childhood, with whom she was friends, what she dreamed of, whether she had time to fall in love. The detective's meager summary gave some hints: the girl's childhood was not so prosperous. Because of the constant moving, she hardly made friends and most likely felt lonely. Her dream, she told herself, was to save lives. How ironic! Because Igor was going to ask her to kill him.

He still hurriedly, as if in a hurry, put on his shoes and slipped the phone into his pocket. Maybe this rainbow would really be his last. So why not admire it before it melted? Not to breathe fresh air, not to sit on the terrace of a cafe, inhaling with pleasure the fragrant steam from a coffee cup? The journey was too long and the breaks too short, too much he had to endure, because none of his life was easy, and moments of pleasure, as well as moments of mortal danger, started the whole cycle all over again. Igor, smiling, ran off the porch - so easily, as if he had thrown a heavy burden off his shoulders, as if the constant pain in his injured leg was no longer with him, and even, seeing the car parked at the neighbor's house, he thought about inviting his neighbor to the cafe. Just so he could have someone to chat with for a bit before he left for good. He even turned onto the path leading to her porch, but he was suddenly called out.