Nightbound

Chapter 14- A Deal with Wolves

The ride back to Cal Lowell's house was quiet.

Nik was quiet. Lowell brothers were quiet and I definitely was the quietest of lifetime.

I wasn't thinking much as we drove. Rather, I caught the views in my camera. Running shots were a bit complicated because well, we were like moving and your frame shifted within seconds. Which meant you had seconds to click it and get it. And thankfully, after five years of practicing photography, I was pro enough to freelance for it whenever my boss tried to shove cash below my grade.

New Orleans offered beautiful shots to be captured in my camera. It was a sphere of its own like I've always believed— a secret and wilder side of world where nature ruled at its peak, shaded from the day we thrived in. If the bloodwraith wouldn't have attacked me, then I would be moving with Kirstin and Vera, watching different places and clicking pictures. Now, after the attack, both the girls were under the weather while I was running circles here. At least capturing these glimpses made memorable impacts to remember.

Mardi Gras was just three weeks away but it was just another excuse for people to flood into NOLA. Our original plan was to spend a whole freaking month in here, ending with enjoying the carnival before resuming to our respective boring world. Three days into our month long vacation? Everything was scrambled.

In the raucous crowd, I captured snaps of people milling with different stages of activities. I needed to do this. To remember my time here. To remember when I flew away from this mystical world...to remember that I was somehow linked to here. We were passing on Bourbon Street which got me a chance to see the buildings in blare of day. The building, new and old...historical stamps still representing that this was a French colony few centuries ago. I wondered if the colonists were aware of the World of Night. Perhaps it was that deal which drew them to here in the first place. Near the cathedral, abandoned quarters having cracks in their faded colours were overgrown with vines and weeds. Nobody bothered to clear them, and nobody wanted to as well because they wanted to leave the buildings as it was. A point in time. A memory of time.

The shops were always opened, restaurants and bars tuning out their music into the streets. Clusters of dancing groups stayed in shades places, enjoying a sunny weather and humid air. I caught the musicians in my frame before we left them in their world of melodies. The humidity never seemed to leave New Orleans, and without the blast of AC, I would be a sweaty-mess. After 72-hours, I realised you couldn't smell the soothing honeysuckle scent in the day, but only in night. In day you could smell...whatever you wanted to—more like wherever you wanted to. Ranky tourists unlike me smelt like garlic and sweat, boozing oozing forever. The day wouldn't cover this for them.

"You photograph, Alex?" Cal asked from the backseat, watching me.

I threw a small glance over my shoulders, "My college had a photography club and I joined them. Been doing for five years now."

"I hope you have brought enough reel." His lips curved, "Because you are going to click a lot of pictures."

"Day or Night?"

He chuckled, "Best of both."

Nik said nothing except to grip steering tightly and swerve towards the bridge which led to the Sauvage National Wildlife Refuge. Sunlight fell on the river, casting the ripple of wind woven water with glimmer. Motorboats ferried tourists along the banks, giving them peeks of the swampy origins and I captured them in my camera before waving at them. They cheered as the boat moved under the bridge. The inland water system was surely populous in New Orleans, apart from tourism, transportation was the next important mediation in Mississippi River. When Katrina hit in 2005, the river had broke its ramps and flooded the whole city. I wondered what were the condition then—a city under water and creatures of Night prowling every square.