The Hunt

6

River sat alone in front of the fire long after Andreji had gone. It was a shock to realise that there would not be a quick solution to his problems. If he still wanted to follow his plans, he would have to be very patient. Three to four months at the least! God! He leaned forward and buried his hands in his hair. It would be best to accept the situation for now, do what Andreji said, and wait for a good opportunity to escape his fate.

River reluctantly got up and went over to the shelf to fetch his research material. The faster he got this over with, the faster he would breathe free air again.

He worked for hours – or so he estimated, having no clock. His stomach protested. Where was Andreji? He had promised to get him something eatable, had he not? River fetched himself some water and went on with his work.

Some time later, after his hunger had ebbed away for a while, it came back. Glancing over to the unmoved curtain, River sighed and decided to attack the buttered bread. After that, he worked some more. At some point, however, his eyes threatened to fall shut against his will, and he decided to go to bed.

An undetermined time span later, River awoke again. As he left his chamber to empty his bladder, he found the living room deserted again.

The way through the cool corridor to the toilet and back took the last bit of sleepiness from River’s mind, so he decided to stay awake. Remembering the way in which Andreji had lit the fire, River managed to do so as well after a few attempts. He finished off the last beast on his list. Just when he shut the final book and got up to put all of them back on the shelf, he heard the outer door open. Relieved that Andreji was finally back, he went over to the shelf. The door closed again. River heard no steps or other noises. He frowned, put the books down, and went into the entrance area. All he found was a new package of buttered bread and a pile of fresh towels.

Puzzled, River went back into the living room. After sorting the books, he read through his notes once more. Right at the moment when he stepped through the curtain to fetch his meagre breakfast, the door opened again, and Andreji stepped into the room.

He looked down on his fledgling with a raised brow. “So eager for my return?”

“Just hungry,” River retorted.

Andreji smirked. “Charming.” He pushed a bag full of shopping into River’s arms and moved past him. “I am not going to do this more than once a week so ration the stuff,” he called through the curtain.

River set the bag down in the entrance area and spread its content on the floor - a metal bowl, aluminium foil, cutlery, a plate, apples, tomatoes, two litres of milk, two litres of orange juice, rye and wheat flour, salt, sugar, seven packs of convenient food, yeast, linseed, sun flower oil, two bottles of beer, butter, cheese, eggs, Darjeeling, and on top a portion of sushi. River was baffled. He put the food into the side board and took the rest as well as the sushi into the living room.

Andreji sat there, writing.

River placed everything on the floor, unpacked the sushi and sat down next to Andreji to eat. He wanted to talk, but he decided to wait until Andreji stopped writing; he did not want to disturb him.

When River had half finished his meal, Andreji looked up.

“What’s all this for, the flour, the oil, the convenience food? You don’t hide a microwave here somewhere, do you?” River enquired.

Andreji sighed. “You will need the flour and other ingredients to bake bread. Here is a recipe,” Andreji handed River what he had just written down. “Do not utter a single syllable about my hand; I know it is awful. I hardly ever need to write more than my name, but I think it is decipherable.”

Indeed, River had to look thrice to recognise the words. He nodded to indicate that he could read it.

“I will make a hanging for the bowl so you can warm the convenient food over the fire. Write a list of things you need for next week, but do not dream of me carting tons of things for you down here. I will select what I think is truly necessary from that list.”

“The recipe says I’m to leave the bread loaf wrapped in the aluminium foil in the fire for thirty minutes – how do I know when they are over without a clock?” River asked, looking down on Andreji’s scrawl.

The white haired man reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a watch to let it dangle in front of River’s nose, who grabbed it.

“Won’t the smell of the food annoy you?” the young man wanted to know, attaching the cheap watch to his arm.

“I would not know why.”

“Because you cannot eat it anymore,” River explained.

Andreji smiled amusedly. “So? I do not suffer from hunger, I guarantee you.” His look was mischievous. “But it is nice to see you worry about my well-being.”

River could not help but smile because of Andreji’s dry humour. “Speaking of your well-being – where have you been this long? I mean, you must have been away for a whole day or more – where have you slept?”

“Do not worry about me,” Andreji brushed the questions off. “I have enough places to go to; and if none of them is available, any place without sunlight will do - a tool shed in front of a haunted manor, for example.”

River understood the hint. “That’s why you were so dirty.”

Andreji shrugged. “How far have you advanced with your studies?” he changed the subject.

“I’ve finished the task you have given me.” River held out his notes for Andreji.

Andreji looked at him disinterestedly. “If I want to read, I can read the book itself. What notes you have taken says little about your knowledge. Tell me.”

River spent hours pouring out everything he had kept in mind. In fact, it was interesting to converse with Andreji about this subject; the experienced man could often supplement River’s explanations. In many cases he referred to books in foreign languages that River had not consulted for obvious reasons but would have supplied him with the missing details, or so Andreji claimed.

“Fine,” Andreji concluded at last. “You’ll receive a new list tomorrow. I have cancelled the delivery of the food they provide you with, so you should try your luck at baking tonight. Of course, you are always free to use the library, no matter if you have a task or not.”

River’s first attempt at baking bread was poor. Yet, after Andreji had (smirking) told him what he had done wrong, he soon improved.

Andreji stayed away a lot over the next weeks. He often was gone for two, three or more days, came back for one night then to check on River, bring him his food supplies, and discuss his latest findings in his beast studies, and disappeared again.

The rooms were unnaturally quiet with only the occasional crackling of the fire. River found it hard to concentrate at times. He had ants in his pants. Several times, he tried to find out how to get into Andreji’s private chambers, but he failed.

At some point, he started to walk about in the corridors. He was surprised to meet so few people. Once or twice he met Griet and exchanged a few polite words with her, and a few times his heart beat faster because someone unknown passed him by, but River often walked for an hour through the tunnels without meeting anybody. He also noticed that the ones that he met were not at all interested in him.

With time, River started to remember routes, and therefore stopped getting lost. He also got to know that the position of the chamber revealed something about the hierarchical position of its inhabitant. The more important a vampire was, the lower lay his chambers. Andreji’s rooms were pretty far down.

A wild idea formed in River’s mind. Was the entrance to the tunnels guarded at all? Perhaps the bloodsuckers thought the fact that the tunnels opened out to a rock face that was impossible to climb without equipment was enough to keep anyone from escaping?! If so, how could he climb the rock face?

-The smithy! Perhaps he could find something useful there!

River waited until Andreji had visited once more and left again; then he went up to the smithy. He found aglets that he could use as steps and holds if he hammered them into the rock wall. His plan was to climb downwards, to the beach. It was less likely to have an unpleasant encounter with one of his ‘hosts’ there as he assumed they were climbing down from the street into the tunnels just like he and his colleagues had done. From having prepared the raid, River knew that the beach led to a small village. The only problem he had – in case he made it to that place – was that he had no money and no legal papers.

River’s heart beat faster. Should he do it now? His watch said it was half past two in the night. He could make a safety rope out of the bedding until sunrise and then attempt to escape. The strange thing was that his intuition, his feeling told him that he would be mad to risk that. River did not feel the danger he was in; Andreji had never given him a cause for fear. His reason, however, said this was the best chance he had and that he was bound to take advantage of it.

The half-Japanese pocketed the aglets and a light hammer and went back to Andreji’s quarters. There he indulged in the cliché of every prison break-out – he cut sheets into stripes, knotted the sheets together, and then braided them so they were stronger. Eventually, he knotted the braids again, once every three feet, so he would have a better hold. River knew the ‘rope’ would not reach the whole way down. It would probably last for a third of the rock wall, but that was better than nothing. Further down, the wall was not as steep and therefore less dangerous.

River put on thick clothes since it was late autumn outside, stuffed the heavy rope, the aglets, the hammer, and a few provisions into the laundry basket, and silently prayed that he would encounter no one.

Up and up the steep stairs he went, peering around corners to see if the corridors were free and hurrying through them if they were. He had noticed during the last weeks that the bloodsuckers indeed usually were asleep at daytime. The day of his capture must have been an exemption. River only once saw one of the human servants slump tiredly along a corridor, apparently going to bed.

At last, River was relieved to see that he had been right with his guess where the exit must be. He stepped into an empty cave and could smell the fresh sea air. Following the distant cries of sea gulls, he found the right tunnel and after a few minutes’ walk saw sunlight for the first time again. It blinded him.

Still, River refused to waste time and hurried forwards until he reached the end of the tunnel and saw the sea again. He drove a couple of the aglets in a half circle into the stone, put the loop he had made at the end of the rope around them and let the rope fall over the brim. Looking anxiously down, seeing the rope hang alongside the wall, River threw his provisions after it.

Taking one last deep breath to calm himself, he stowed the rest of the aglets in his trouser pockets, fixed the hammer in his belt loop, and carefully stepped on a rock spur, testing the reliability of the rope at the same time. Slowly, he crept lower. When the rope ended, River started to drive the aglets into the wall were it had cracks. Knowing that he did not have an endless amount of them, he tried to severe them again, but that did not work most of the times. The last few metres he was forced to climb without any security measures.

When he finally slumped down on a rock around which the waves licked, the tension fell off him. Was it really supposed to be this easy, escaping the bloodsuckers? For a while, River just sat staring at the sea and contemplated what he should do next. He needed to go back to London. His apartment should be the first stop, at daytime, of course. He would have to break in, since he had no keys. River always had a bit of money at home; that would help him. There he would also be able to arm himself. The vampires were sure to follow him.

River got onto his feet, looked for his food and found it a little deranged but eatable between the rocks, and started to walk along the slim, stony beach towards the village. Should he visit Ray and tell him everything? Could Ray truly help him, would he be safe with him? Or would it only provoke the bloodsuckers further? Perhaps it even endangered Ray.

It took River two hours until he arrived at the village. By telling something about someone stealing his car with all his papers in it, he found someone who took him to the next town. In front of the station, River told the same story to passers-by who each kindly donated a few pounds to him, so that in the late afternoon after five hours of soliciting he could step on a train to London.

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