Manhunt

Calm before the storm

Charon watched the nurses and doctors puzzling back and forth in the main corridor of the central hospital. He noted security cameras as he made his way through the hallway, searching for the medical room where he hoped to find the right meds for Ryiah. Charon had done his research before coming here so he would know what Ryiah needed.

Breaking into the hospital’s medical storage wasn´t a bright idea considering it was the busiest moment of the morning shift, but he needed the meds.

Charon hoped luck was on his side as he approached the door that said medical storage. Glancing at the ceiling, he noticed the nearest camera pointing right at the door. Pulling the baseball cap down firmer to hide his face, Charon set his mind on the task.

His concern was not to let them see his face. He could always burn the clothes and change his appearance by shaving. He had done it a million times before, and he could do it again if it meant for saving Ryiah’s life.

Charon put gloves on as he had discreetly stolen from some dozing guy at the waiting room and pushed the handler down, testing was the door unlocked and much to his surprise it was. Charon opened the door more and swiftly slipped through.

Looking at his surroundings Charon walked over to the cabinet which covered the entire left side he halted in front of one of the glass doors. 

Each shelf contained small boxes and glass bottles in alphabetical order. Shifting his gaze from the med cabinet on the other side of the room where was another cabinet, Charon saw on the shelves different sizes of syringes and other medical equipment.

Not wasting time, Charon opened the cabinet searching for certain meds, putting them into his inner pockets. 

Lining up the remaining bottles, Charon made sure it was difficult to see at first glance that a few bottles were missing before he closed the cabinet turning to get the syringes.

His hands were shaking, and his heart started beating a little faster. Charon’s nerves threatened to betray him, which was unlike him. Shaking his head, he forced himself to calm down and focus on the next items.

Hearing muffled voices nearing the door, Charon glanced at the door alarmed before taking few syringes and needles and the small bottle of disinfectant. With haste Charon closed the door, looking around where to hide if the people in the corridor were coming in the storage room. He saw a side door at the end of the room right next to the cabinet and rushed toward it, getting through the door just in time as two nurses stepped chatting with a cheerful manner.

Charon fished his phone out of his pocket so he could see where he had entered. Switching on the flashlight, he noted he had stepped in some kind of small room where closed bright yellow trash cans stood side by side on a long table. It was a storage room for dirty needles.

“This staff is sloppy as they can get,” Charon murmured with a frown, puzzled why they didn´t keep these doors locked. But he figured their sloppiness was his fortune.

Charon turned facing the door while holding his breath, trying to listen to the nurses' conversation. He hoped women were here only to take some supplies and leave because otherwise, Charon would be in big trouble.

Muffled giggles reached his ears as he leaned forward and pressed his head against the door to hear better.

“I’m sure doctor Christenson likes you, why else he would ask you for dinner?” one woman replied with a teasing tone.

“Oh hush, he is only being polite. There is nothing romantic about his request.” the other one huffed, sounding annoyed.

Charon rolled his eyes. Of course, even the nurses would talk about something so trivial during their shift, as did some doctor asked a nurse on a date.

“Women…” Charon sighed under his breath but perked up when he heard the door opening and closing. Listening to any sounds might come from the other side, Charon made sure there was no one in the room before he would step out the small storage room.

But he heard nothing. Only silence.

Charon pushed the handle down with a winch as it clicked and pulled the door ajar, taking a peek. Seeing no one was in the room, he pulled the door open and stepped out with a relieved sigh. Not willing to take a risk of being caught Charon walked across the room with haste opening the door and taking a glance around the hallway making sure no one was near enough to see him leaving from the storage room, Charon wasted no time as he strode through the corridor toward the main door.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried not to draw attention to himself as he passed the receptionist sitting behind the desk when suddenly an elderly lady stopped him. She stared at him, right into his eyes. She had hospital clothes on her and, by the looks of it, suffered a fatal illness called Scarlet Vein.

It was a genetic and nasty illness, veins turning thinner making the skin itself glow red like fresh blood until to a point where the veins were so fragile any slight movement of a muscle caused them to break and bleed under the skin. 

When the veins in the person's brain broke, it was only a matter of time when the patient was going to die.

For a moment, Charon felt sorry for her and her glazed reddish eyes looked right at him. Although Charon knew all she saw was a vague figure through a red haze, it made the hair in his neck to raise.

“Are you here to take me?” the woman asked with a shaky and small voice, struggling to speak to avoid the veins in her face to snap.

Charon looked at her stoically, keeping his emotions in check as he shook his head, much to her dismay.

“Have I not suffered enough? Scarlet took my younger sister and my eldest child years ago, and now I must suffer this illness. Please, just end it. Please…” her voice broke into sobbing when two nurses came to her side supporting her, careful not to hurt her, and tried to escort her back to her room.

“I apologize, sir. She is in great pain but because of her condition we can´t give her medication that would ease it.” A doctor who had appeared around the corner seeing what was happening addressed Charon.

Charon only nodded. He knew well when the illness had reached a certain point giving the meds intravenously wasn´t an option anymore and the pills were hard to swallow. Many of the patients refused to take them, choosing to suffer instead. Choking to death was many of the patients' greatest fear.

“I know,” Charon muttered, glancing around while pressing his lips together, anxious to leave, but the doctor blocked his way, looking at him with one raised brow.

“Do you have someone here for treatment? If I may ask because I don´t remember seeing you here before.” The doctor asked, looking Charon up and down as if trying to figure out has he seen Charon somewhere before. At that Charon grew more irritated giving the doctor a side glare. It wasn’t any of the doctor’s business why Charon was there.

Charon was about to reply to the nosy man when he glanced over the doctor’s shoulder seeing two security guards walking toward him. 

Although they didn’t seem to be that interest in him Charon didn’t want to take the risk and turning away from the doctor, he headed toward the exit as fast as his legs could carry him.

Charon didn’t bother to look back if the doctor was still watching him. He needed to get back to his house as fast as he could, back to Ryiah, and give her the meds.

The main sliding doors didn´t open fast enough for Charon’s liking, and he squeezed himself through the ajar door and skipped the stairs down toward the parking lot.

Jogging to his car, Charon unlocked the doors and sat behind the wheel with heavy breathing and taking a glance from the reverse mirror to check no one was following him before starting the engine.

No one was running after him, and Charon took a deep calming breath. 

Reversing out of the parking lot, Charon turned the car toward the highway, praying he wouldn’t be too late.

The street lamps flashed by as Charon drove as fast as he could back to his rented house, trying to remember not to draw attention by speeding. The last thing he needed was the police to stop him and questioning him why he was driving over the speed limit.

Gripping the wheel, his knuckles turned white as he drove the highway and Charon’s jaw hurt because he was gritting his teeth too hard. Anxious, hoping that he would not find Ryiah dead on the bed, he guided the car into a slip road and using a winker Charon turned the car right while shifting gear as countless prayers went through his mind.

This part of the drive was going to be hellish but Charon tried to focus on the road but it wasn´t easy. Imagines of Ryiah lying on the bed, life slipping away from her threatened to overwhelm him, and Charon let out a growl of frustration.

Charon’s teachers taught him to be the master of his feelings, the cold-hearted killer didn’t let emotions get the better of him but after witnessing what happened in the House of Valor everything he had learned over the years went right through the window.

He even did the rookie mistake of going into a hospital to steal meds in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake!

But the mere thought of losing Ryiah again, this time for good, clouded his judgement. He wanted Ryiah to live; he needed her to live. If not for her own sake, then for Griffin’s sake. She would have to live for the both of them and make sure Griffin’s memory would live on.

At last, the intersection came into his view after driving God knows how long the serpentine road.

Turning his car into the familiar back road, Charon kept glancing out of the window until his building came into view and turning the wheel Charon drove on the yard.

Switching off the engine Charon wasted little time to get out of the car and ran the stairs up cursing out loud when the key didn´t go into the lock right away.

Forcing himself to take a calming breath, Charon closed his eyes for a moment before trying to put the key again into the lock. This time he succeeded and opening the door Charon stepped into the hallway kicking the door behind him shut and ran the stairs up hoping he wasn’t too late.

Charon stumbled the last two steps, almost falling to his face at the top of the stairs, but caught himself in a nick of time. Taking a couple of steps in all four before he could straighten himself Charon muttered under his breath something even his mother would have smacked him back of his head if she had heard her son’s wording.

Halting at the bedroom door, Charon gripped the doorknob and his entire body tensed up as he praised himself for what waited on the other side.

Was Ryiah still alive? Or had she lost the fight while he was away?

Stop it. Charon shook his head, abandoning the thought of her lying dead on his bed, his hold on the handle tightening. Clenching his jaw, Charon lifted his gaze from the handle and opened the door.

As the dim room came to his view Charon’s gaze searched for the bed and when he found it, he held his breath stepping inside.

Charon knew he should rush to her side, check her vitals and give Ryiah the meds, but his body refused to go any faster. Charon was struggling to keep himself moving toward the bed. He was shaking from head to toe, and Charon bit his lower lip to prevent from crumbling where he was standing.

He didn’t want to see Ryiah lying motionless on the bed and forcing himself to walk forward took every ounce of his willpower.

Fisting his hands, Charon dragged one foot in front of another while his gaze wandered around the bed, too afraid to settle on Ryiah’s face.

Charon’s heart was pounding in his chest while he approached the bed and forced himself to glance at her.

Charon’s eyes turned teary blurring his vision when he stopped at the end of the bed fearing she was dead. He stared at Ryiah’s chest, waiting to see it rising; he didn’t dare blink because he might miss the movement.

When he saw Ryiah’s chest rising and falling, Charon let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and letting a few tears roll on his cheek.

Wiping his face as his shoulders dropped in relief knowing Ryiah was still alive Charon walked at the left side shedding off his jacket and taking the items from the pockets placing them onto the nightstand.

Then he headed into the bathroom to wash his hands and returning Charon placed a stool he had taken from the bathroom next to the bed and sat down. 

Charon took a swap and sanitized a spot with spirit on Ryiah’s arm before giving her the first shot of the nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone, but I have something for you to help you get better.” He murmured, the corner of his mouth twisting into a half-smile as he looked at Ryiah’s pale face while pressing the piston.

“You’re a fighter, so I need you to keep fighting and come back.”

Shifting his attention to her thigh, Charon wanted to look at the wound. Pushing the blanket to the side, Charon was careful while lifting the leg into the air and started unwrapping the bandages with his free hand while the other supported Ryiah’s leg. Knitting his brows together in concentration, Charon removed the strapping.

When he saw the wound, he couldn’t help but grimace at the sight. Although it was clean to Charon, it seemed like it was mocking him, reminding him how he had failed to be there when she needed him.

But seeing the stitches were holding his facial expression softened, and the corners of his lips turned upward. Charon bandaged the wound and tucking her leg under the blanket he then stood up.

Now all he could do was wait.

Turning around Charon went downstairs deciding to make something to eat while figuring out his next move. 

Theia’s announcement of Valentianus inviting him and Ryiah into a dinner party was nagging his mind.

Descending the stairs Charon stepped into the hallway and turning right he entered the kitchen.

Granite countertop, dark cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and in the middle stood a dark kitchen island with light grey marble surface. Of all the rooms in his house, Charon loved the kitchen most because it inspired him to cook.

Charon was a killer out on the field, but he was also a killer in the kitchen, and he had his mother to thank for his talent for cooking.

Opening the fridge, Charon bit his inner cheek, trying to think if he should accept Valentianus’s invitation or not. Although Ryiah was not in any condition to take part for a while of any sort of parties. Would it look weird if he went there alone?

Taking out eggs, mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach, cheese and butter Charon settled decided of making an omelette while mulling the dilemma in his hands. 

If what Theia had said and Valentianus would find out what had happened this morning at the House of Valor, it might be difficult to explain.

Setting the ingredients on the table, Charon searched for the frying pan and turned on the stove before focusing on the eggs.

Breaking them one by one into the bowl, Charon mixed them up. Setting the bowl aside for a moment, he then started chopping the mushrooms and onions while humming lowly. Charon’s motions were precise and quick, his entire body relaxed as he concentrated on cooking.

A smile tucked into his lips as he gathered the onions and mushrooms, putting them into a smaller bowl and taking the spinach he chopped it.

Slicing some butter, Charon tossed the piece into the hot pan and grinned as he watched it melting with a sizzle. Onions soon followed, and it filled the kitchen with a delicious scent, as Charon also emptied the bowl of mushrooms into the frying pan.

As he cooked Charon could forget his problems for a moment and he could use the sort moment of serenity because the past had taught him a valuable lesson.

There was always calm before the storm.