Thirst (2 page)

“Don’t stay out alone at night. Don’t go into dark alleyways or parks. That’s where vampires like to feed. I’m going to track down the vampire in this town, and then I’ll be out of your life.”

Brittany was silent as she stared down at her feet.

“Bye Brittany,” Kane said.

“Bye.”

Kane turned around and left. Brittany closed the door and took a deep breath. She could not gather the strength to go through with killing Kane. Her emotions overrode her sense of self-preservation. No matter how badly she wanted to remove herself from her feelings, she just could not do it.

She wiped the last of her tears from her eyes. Until Kane was out of town, she was going to need to be careful.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

ALIBI

Kane sat in his old Mustang, watching Hanna’s house from a safe distance. He tried to drown out the sounds of his screaming emotions with the car radio. Whenever Brittany’s voice started to ring through Kane’s mind, he reached for the old rusted dial on the dashboard and turned the volume of up.

However, no matter the volume of the radio, he could not get her beautiful face out of his mind. Angry, he slammed his dashboard with his fist, splitting his knuckle.

“You idiot!” he yelled at himself.

Blood started to pour out of the deep cut.

“Shit,” he muttered as he pulled a first aid kit out from his glove box. As he opened it, the walkie-talkie he kept tuned into the police channel began to buzz and crackle.

Crr-Chhhzzhttt!

“We’ve got reports of another potential one-eight-seven down at twenty-five Boundary Crescent,” the female police officer said. “Neighbors heard screaming—suspect may still be on the scene. All cruisers please report.”

“I’m five away,” an officer responded.

Kane quickly looked the address up on his GPS. He was only a single block away.

He fired up the old Mustang and drove around the corner towards the house. With his headlights off, he slowly drove up the road. The lights were on inside of the house. As Kane got closer, he could see blood on the walls through one of the windows.

Kane scanned the quiet neighborhood. Carefully, he drove towards the alleyway and looked down it. He watched the alleyway carefully, looking for any signs of movement. After a moment of stagnant silence, he drove up to the next alleyway and watched closely.

Suddenly, a dark humanoid silhouette ran across the alleyway, leaping over a fence. Kane could hear sirens in the distance, moving towards the house. He drove up to the next alley and looked down it. Again, the mysterious fleeing figure ran across the alleyway, jumping a fence and running through the yard. Kane continued his silent pursuit.

“This is Constable Hendricks. I’m at Boundary Crescent, on the scene of the one-eight-seven. There’s no sign of the suspect on the scene,” an officer announced over the radio.

“Wait a minute for backup, Constable. It’s on its way.”

“I can see a lot of blood through the window. Looks like another one of those vampire attacks.”

“Roger that, Hendricks. Remain in the safety of your cruiser until backup arrives. Also—Let’s refrain from calling them ‘vampire’ attacks.”

The police feared that the serial killer—or killers that were loose in the town took pride in the media calling them “vampires.” They tried to avoid using the term, suspecting that it was only further fuelling their desire to recommit. Nevertheless, it was a difficult term to avoid when the victims matched the classic vampire victim profile to a tee.

Kane watched the next alleyway carefully, waiting for the ostensible vampire to make another appearance. After a moment, it did. The dark figure ran into the center of the alleyway and looked around, deciding whether it was far enough away from the crime. As it stood still, Kane was able to make out a few details. The culprit was wearing a hooded coat, and was short—shorter than the average man—possibly a woman. It was too dark to make out much more than that.

After a moment, the potential criminal casually stuffed their hands into their pockets and began to walk down the alley, away from Kane.

Kane put his car back into drive and started to drive around the block, intending to cut the person off on the other side and see whom it was—and maybe even make the kill.

Wheeeoooo!

Red and blue lights suddenly flashed the inside of Kane’s car, startling the young vampire hunter. Kane had been too focused on the suspect in the alleyway that he had not noticed that a police cruiser had crept up behind him.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself.

Heart racing, he pulled his car over casually. His trunk was loaded with weapons and his police intercepting walkie was sitting on the passenger seat, next to his laptop, which was currently hacked into private police records. Frantically, Kane pushed it all onto the floor of the car. The blood from his cut knuckle was all over the steering wheel, and the dashboard.

“Shit,” he muttered again, realizing there was more of a mess than he could deal with.

He quickly scanned his rear view mirror as the police officer got out of his cruiser. He tried to use the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the blood off his dashboard to minimize suspicion.

Click! Click! Click!

The officer tapped on Kane’s window, motioning him to open it. Reluctantly, Kane did.

“Good morning, officer.”

“Hello sir,” the officer said.

“Is something wrong?”

“There was a bit of a break-in down the road, and we’re trying to see if anyone saw any suspicious activity in the past few hours.”

“Uh—No. Not that I can think of,” Kane said nervously—his heart still beating rapidly against his chest wall.

“Are you just on your way to work?”

“Yeah,” Kane said.

“Do you mind if I ask where you work?”

“Uh—What?” Kane said. His head was spinning. Kane hated talking to the police more than anything.

“Where do you work?”

“The library.”

“You work at the library?”

“Huh? No—I’m going to the library. To study.”

“Are you okay, sir?” the officer asked.

Kane was silent for a moment as he recomposed himself. “Yeah. Just tired—it’s an early morning for me.”

“Why so early?”

“You know—Exams are coming up.”

“Ah—Exams. I remember exams. I don’t envy you.”

“Yeah—I’m just trying to get a jump on studying,” Kane lied.

“I bet—I bet. I sure do remember those days—A lot of sleepless nights.” The officer chuckled.

“It never ends,” Kane said, forcing a laugh.

The officer looked at Kane’s car. “This is quite the car you’ve got here. Sixty-eight?”

“Sixty-nine,” Kane said.

“Oh—even better,” the officer said as he walked around the car. “You don’t see a lot of sixty-nines on the road these days. Especially not Mach Ones.”

“Yeah,” Kane said, forcing an awkward laugh as the officer walked around the trunk of the car.

He ran his hand over the car’s spoiler—fingers just inches away from Kane’s weapon stash.

The officer walked around towards the front of the car. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Huh?” Kane said.

“Under the hood—Can I take a look? See what this thing is packing?”

“Oh—It’s a bit of a mess right now—A lot of random replacement parts. It’s not the nicest thing to look at.”

“You do the modification work yourself?”

“Yeah,” Kane said.

“All legal, I hope?” the officer asked.

Kane was frozen while he thought of a response. They were not all legal—they were all stolen and put together in a way that no mechanic would ever call “up to code.”

“I’m just kidding,” the officer said, walking back over to Kane’s window. “Look, I realize you’ve got a lot on your mind with exams and everything—I’ll let you go. You be sure to report any suspicious behavior, okay?”

“Okay officer, thank you.”

“Are you okay?” the officer asked.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Your hand—It’s bleeding.”

“Oh—I cut it when I was scraping the ice off of my windshield.”

“It’s bleeding bad. It looks like it could use some stitches.”

“It’s fine—really.”

A look of suspicion suddenly crossed the officer’s face. He looked around the inside of the car, noticing the blood smeared on the dashboard.

Crrcht!

The officer’s walkie picked up a signal. “We’ve confirmed two one-eight-sevens at the Boundary house. Still no witnesses with an id”

Kane knew that a one-eight-seven was code for a homicide.

“Where’d you say you were going, sir?” the officer asked.

“The library.”

“To study for finals, right?”

“That’s right.”

“What are you taking at University?”

Kane thought for a moment. “Chemistry,” he said.

“Chemistry major? When’s your first exam?”

“Um, Monday—I think. I’d have to check my schedule.”

“Monday? What’s the test on?”

The officer’s flurry of questions was making Kane increasingly nervous. “I’m sorry officer, but I really need to get to the library. I’m supposed to meet someone there.”

“What’s your test on?” the officer asked again.

Kane thought for a moment. “Organic Chemistry.”

The officer looked around Kane’s car. “No school books? Where’s all your stuff?”

“It’s in my,” Kane started, and then realized he did not want any attention brought towards his trunk. “At the library. I’m meeting a friend there—She has my books.”

“Can I see your id?” the officer asked.

Kane reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled his identification out and handed it to the officer. The officer looked closely at it.

“You need to get your address changed, eh?” the officer said.

“Oh—Yeah, I’ve been meaning to do that.”

“Can I take a look in your trunk?”

Kane thought for a moment. A cold breeze whistled through the car, making all of the hairs on the back of Kane’s neck stand up straight. “Really, officer. I need to get going.”

“Just open the trunk please, sir.”

Kane was frozen for a moment. He took a deep breath. He needed to think—he needed a solution.

“Sir?” the officer prodded.

“Sorry—Just a second,” Kane said. He reached down and pressed the button to pop the trunk.