HUNGER OF THE WICKED

12.

Near the Tom, May 1, 2011

The sun, high in a sky almost without clouds, darted its rays on the ice of the Tom which sent them towards the banks, towards these improbable walkers slaloming between the mounds of wild grasses. Darya was worried. The more time passed, the more strangely her companion behaved. He looked around suspiciously, mumbled under his breath, complained at the birds, the pebbles, and God knew what else. Worse, he seemed to have forgotten her presence and no longer spoke to her. His search became obsessive, it took precedence over his lucidity. Or, was it being in the full sun in the middle of the afternoon? The girl couldn’t answer this question. Her knowledge of vampires indicated that they would become dust if they travelled during the day, while Rempert simply squinted under his sunglasses.

She was, therefore, vaguely speculating about the reasons for his attitude when he stopped abruptly pointing a finger across the river.

“I recognize that mountain! We must cross!”

“You’re joking?” Darya choked. “We should go back to the bridge!”

Vignola turned around and stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. She had an uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t know who she was or why she was following him. He bit his lip, clenched and loosened his fists several times, and then, like a kid eager to unwrap a gift, scraped the floor with his foot.

“No need, I will carry you,” he mumbled between his teeth.

The girl looked at him, eyes wide. His proposal touched on absolute foolishness, even pure and simple stupidity. The day before, he was sure of himself, the perfect master of his emotions, logical and thoughtful. But now... he was so different that an unthinkable alternative was a plausible solution. The Tom’s ice was no longer strong enough to support their weight: it was obvious. Rempert seemed to read her thoughts and wrung his hands, both impatient and annoyed.

“I can do it, my powers allow me, piccolina.”

She studied him carefully. Common sense shouted at her not to accept, but she yielded to the importance of the issue. This man was almost crazy about the possibility of finally seeing his search succeed, she couldn’t stop him. At worst, she would take a bath again, but in full sun this time. She approached the vampire who took her in his arms as if she weighed no heavier than a feather.

He turned to the river, leaped softly over the thawed water, and landed on the ice without causing any vibration. Then, in a strange silence, he crossed the Tom and jumped to the other side, avoiding a fresh strip of icy water. He put Darya on the ground, staring at the forest, and walked toward the firs, his face illuminated by almost perverse jubilation. The young girl couldn’t help thinking that, if she had not followed in his footsteps, he would have left her there, without even caring.

They sank between the trees and Rempert appreciated the shade they offered him. Still, Darya felt her nervous tension increase. He walked faster and faster, complained, insulted imaginary people, leaped over the rocks, came back, and set off again. She could no longer follow him. She ran to catch up, and when she was alongside him, she grabbed his arm. He turned a feverish look towards her and pulled away with a sudden movement. Instinctively, she jumped back and put her hand on the butt of her gun.

“If your goal is to get lost,” she hissed, “we’re off to a good start.”

“You do not understand!” Rempert squirmed in his turmoil. “The mountain! I do not see it anymore!”

“Of course, what do you think? It’s a hundred miles from here! With the trees, you won’t be able to see it.”

The vampire opened his mouth incredulously. At that moment, he looked like a foolish i***t and Darya felt his incomprehensible transformation all the more forcefully. What the hell is happening to him?

“A hundred miles?” he laughed, miserable. “That is far!”

“Yes. So we’re going to go back to town and get some equipment because we can’t go on like this. Ok?”

He looked around, panicked. When he turned to her again, his eyes were bulging.

“No! You are trying to mislead me, that is all!”

“I’m your guide, damn it! I know what I’m doing, and you don’t! You’ll calm down and come with me!”

Darya’s real anger gave him the effect of a cold shower and he stopped immediately, feet together and arms along his body, like a kid asked to go to the corner. Even though he had angered her, the girl decided to calm things down and spoke to him in a soft voice.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there. You just have to equip yourself to go to the mountains, okay?”

He nodded without looking at her, his eyes fixed on his walking shoes. She sighed, really taken aback by such a radical change, and then turned away to begin the hike back. It was then that he threw himself on her.

“You are lying!” he shouted, furious.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her so hard that Darya thought she would break apart and die. Of course, she failed to grab her weapon and when he finally let go, she was violently thrown to the ground. Her head hit the ground with a thud, stars appeared around her, then black spots. She passed out.

Ugo da Vignola considered the girl’s lifeless body for long minutes, unable to react. Was it he who did that? Or had he just arrived? Strangely, he was unable to answer these questions, and the face of the injured woman reminded him of no-one in particular. He would have been willing to help that pretty stranger, but he had to continue his journey, keep going, whatever the cost. He walked away to breach the forest.