HUNGER OF THE WICKED

15.

Rempert, dressed in his special hiking outfit, and Darya, equipped in the same way as when she was transporting for Droski, were back in the forest, where the vampire had attacked his guide. Using a compass, the girl made sure of the direction they should take and pointed it out.

“Now, we go almost in a straight line east for a day. Watch out for the surroundings and beware of wild animals. Most are more afraid of us than the other way around, but they tend to attack in this situation. You just have to get around them and should try to avoid them.”

“I understand.”

“And if you don’t feel well, I would like to be warned, if possible.”

“I will do my best, but I can promise you nothing, piccolina.”

She didn’t like what was implied by such an evasive answer, but she should be content with it. She had accepted the risks. Without adding anything, she sank between the trees, Rempert on her heels. She walked fast, aware that it was necessary to progress quickly. Strange as it may seem, the vampire would be less dangerous for her in the middle of the night. During the day, he found it much more difficult to deal with the phenomenon that plagued him.

They didn’t take a break at noon—Darya ate while walking—and veered slightly off the road to allow Rempert to climb on a rocky slope from where he could see the top of their target. The girl was watching him, an amused smile on her lips. Seeing him climbing the rock in his nineteenth-century mountaineer’s outfit was quite ridiculous. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to appreciate the situation. He had no competence in this respect and was progressing with difficulty.

“I heard you giggle!” said Rempert, annoyed.

“Not in the least!” Darya replied, trying to keep herself serious. “I was admiring your noble buttocks.”

“Oh, please!” he paused, put his hand up as a visor, and gazed at the horizon. “I see it!” he exclaimed happily.

“I hope so! All we need now is for it to change places!”

Ugo da Vignola drank in the landscape with his eyes. The firs stretched out for tens of kilometres, and in the distance, the mountain occupied the horizon in all its magnificence. In the colours that covered it, he guessed that the forest invaded it over a large area. Only the top was clear as if trying to get out of this exuberant greenery. The vampire didn’t want to stay in full sun more than necessary, but he couldn’t get away from this wonderful spectacle. Something was irresistibly attracting him to this unnamed beauty. His sight became blurred, the image of a wonderful woman, smiling, appeared to him then. Did she just call him? He reached for her and she burst out laughing. Immediately, images assailed him, numerous, violent... burning houses, explosions, people fleeing, screaming, gunshots... Rempert couldn’t stop the sensory deluge that was taking hold of him. He put a hand to his forehead, screaming, his foot slipping and he spun around.

Darya understood that something was wrong as soon as a change took place on the vampire’s face. That crazy expression signalled the beginning of trouble, she knew it. She rushed to climb the slope when Rempert fell, she was only three meters below him. She managed to catch him by the arm and instinctively, he clung desperately to the rock. With his cheek pressed against the wall, trembling, he took time to regain control of his mind. The terrible images had dissipated, but their imprint remained vivid and painful. For he knew, even if he couldn’t locate them precisely, that they came out of his memory. They were real memories, lived. His memories.

“How are you?” Darya asked gently.

Still unsettled, he focused on her, in particular on her eyes. The kaleidoscope of her right eye, in fantastic colours, reassured him and drove away the last shadows that paralyzed his thoughts. At last, he resumed full possession of his control.

“I tell you, and this is final: I hate climbing,” he said in a light tone.

“I think it hates you too if that makes you feel any better.”

Rempert smiled at the girl and, with her help, was then able to descend safely. On the ground, he dropped to his knees and for a second, she thought he was going to have a seizure. But he raised a serious face towards her.

“I’m on the right track! We must continue!”

And with that, he got back on his feet and took to the trail with a decided step.

“Rempert!”

The vampire turned around, ready to protest against his guide. They had to hurry! His words died in his throat when he saw that she pointed him in the opposite direction.

“This way.”

He looked around, bewildered. Decidedly, for him, this forest had neither tail nor head. Contrite, he followed Darya who, to his great relief, maintained a steady walking pace.

They continued the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening. They stopped at about 10 pm and set up camp for the night. The girl preferred to have a hot meal and get enough sleep before the next day’s stage when, in theory, they should arrive at their destination. She didn’t know what was waiting for them there. Knowing the unsympathetic nature of the locals, she didn’t like it too much. Unfortunately, Rempert couldn’t tell her exactly where they were going.

Irkutsk Oblast, May 3, 2011

Syssoi and Kassian had left Irkutsk by the M53, to the northwest, to bypass the Saian mountains, which extended to the south-west of the city for nearly a thousand kilometres near the Mongolian border. They drove to the small town of Touloun where they made a stop, the time needed for the teenager to rest and make sure that they were heading for the right region. The vampire relied entirely on the supernatural connection between the Insubmissive and the Venerable and didn’t argue when his guide identified a direction. His only concern was to watch over him and make sure he didn’t stray from their goal. But on that side, he seemed to have no problem whatsoever. Kassian was deeply involved in his task.

They then left towards the west, still on the same road. To continue by car, they had no choice but to follow the M53: the coniferous mountains of the taiga didn’t offer them an alternative. They were to continue on this axis hoping that the trace of the Venerable wouldn’t deviate too much. It was late afternoon, the sun had already disappeared behind the mountains.

Kassian, slumped in the passenger seat, didn’t relax his concentration. He felt the presence of his prey. His special aura shone in his mind like a lighthouse guiding a boat. He didn’t care to know the identity of this man, he would find him, for the wish of the one who, sitting by his side, had shown him respect. The first since... how long exactly? The intensity of the light diminished and the teenager suddenly opened his eyes.

“Stop!” he cried.

Immediately, Syssoi steered to leave the road and pebbles banged on the bodywork and the dust settled in small clouds on the windshield. A hand on the steering wheel, he turned his attention to his neighbour. The kid frowned, disconcerted, and stared at the horizon with an empty look. He couldn’t care less about the scenery.

“Back up,” he whispered.

The vampire set the gear in reverse and drove on the hard shoulder without pressing too hard on the accelerator. They had travelled a hundred meters when Kassian again asked to stop. He seemed both lost and worried.

“It’s weird, I feel like I’m losing him.” he blinked, surprised. “Oh, no, he’s coming back!”

“Have you ever felt a Venerable before?”

“No.” he chuckled, amused by the double-meaning. “It looks like he’s blinking!”

“He’s unstable, it seems. Maybe it’s interfering with your link. I continue?”

“Yes. If his aura goes down too much, I’ll tell you.”

Syssoi nodded and they left. From time to time he watched the boy’s face. As long as he saw this peaceful expression, he considered it an encouraging sign. He had understood that Kassian wanted to help him in his quest. He wouldn’t do anything to ruin it.

They drove for a good two hours, then Syssoi decided to stop. Because of the lack of light, the cars were driving with their lights on and the brightness blinded him. He preferred to return to the road later when there would be less traffic. Besides, Kassian had to eat, him: another big difference between a vampire and an Insubmissive.

The SUV went along a small dirt road continuing until reaching a grove of trees. The two men gathered some things, made a fire, and the teenager prepared to eat. He opened a can of dumplings—with meat in a cream sauce—which he balanced on stones, near the flames, and watched over the cooking, regularly stirring the contents with a spoon. From time to time, he glanced curiously at Syssoi, lying on the ground in the dry grass, the muscles of his powerful chest lit by the pale light of the moon. His already pale skin became almost white in places, and Kassian found him as beautiful as ice. He wanted to caress him. With his eyes closed, his arms folded under his head, the vampire seemed to be asleep.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, gruff.

Kassian immediately shifted his attention to his simmering food. He had asked himself a lot of questions, some of them a little crazy, and he wanted to venture to state them. He decided to start, in the tone of a banal conversation.

“Do you always go around shirtless?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Not getting an answer, he watched Syssoi’s face. His eyelids quivered with nervous spasms, and his jaw, tighter than a vise, emitted unpleasant creaks. Returned to his youth by this simple question, he tried to dispel the painful memories it provoked. Violent images, inflicted by successive flashes, brought him back to that time when captured by soldiers, he had remained for long weeks imprisoned in a jacket closed at the back, arms folded against his abdomen. He thought he was going crazy.

“I don’t like clothes,” he said finally.

“Oh...” Not fooled, Kassian preferred to change the subject. “How old are you?”

“One hundred and twenty-five years. And you?”

“Forty-five. Yet I feel like I’ve been living since...” he broke off and frowned. “Longer,” he finished bitterly.

The teenager poured his dumplings on a plate and began to eat. His companion didn’t seem willing to talk and he wasn’t convinced of the benefit of it. He couldn’t avoid painful subjects, those from which the vampire wanted to escape. However, important information was missing and he wanted to get it, if only partially.

“This Venerable, what do you want from him?”

“His knowledge,” replied Syssoi without hesitation. “He can help me take control of the Russian vampires.”

Kassian could barely conceal his surprise. With an open mouth, a spoonful of dumplings at the edges of his lips, he stared at Baranov with astonishment, as if he had just told him that he wanted to learn how to fly. The face of Syssoi remained impassive.

“You... you’re crazy!” exclaimed the teenager.

“I know,” he replied, with an irrevocable tone.

“If you’re aware of it, that’s good enough!” he mocked.