The Hunt

"The Hunt" was nominated as 'April's original story of the month' here:
http://aarinfantasy.com/forum/f173/t71759-vote_april_s_original.html !
The poll is open until May 7th.

7

After about five hours, River arrived in London late in the evening. Fearing to spend the night outside, he invested his last bugs in a tube ticket to his uncle.

It was about eleven o’clock when River eventually pressed the door bell. It took a few moments before something stirred behind the door. The wife of his uncle opened drowsily.

“I’m sorry to disturb you so late,” River tried to apologise. “It’s just that I have lost my keys and wanted to ask you if I could stay over night.”

She let him in, explaining that his uncle was fast asleep, and prepared the couch for him.

The next morning, River’s uncle was surprised to see him. He was even more surprised to hear that River’s apartment keys had been ‘stolen’. “I thought you had moved out?! I went to see you three weeks ago, because I hadn’t heard from you in a while, but when I arrived, there was a van parking in front of the house, and men were carrying out furniture. They said a friend of you had authorised them!”

“They cleared the whole apartment?” River asked alarmed.

“As far as I could tell. You didn’t know?”

River shook his head. “I’ve not been in London the past weeks.”

“So I’ve heard,” his uncle said.

River looked up.

“Ray has asked about you twice. Problems with one of his jobs?”

River merely nodded.

“Have you messed it up? Is that why you’ve been away so long, because you fear Ray’s reaction?”

The young man frowned, angry that his uncle thought so badly of him. “No. The job went wrong, but it wasn’t my fault. I have no reason for a bad conscience. Don’t ask on; you know I cannot speak about the jobs.” River rose from the breakfast table he had been sitting at. “Would you be so kind to lend me some money? I’ve lost everything, including my cash card, and if the apartment has truly been cleared of everything, then I’ll have problems to verify my identity at the bank.”

Reluctantly, his uncle handed him fifty pounds. “Who is supposed to have dissolved your household without your knowledge or consent?” he enquired sceptically.

River scowled. “I have an idea who.” He thanked his relatives and left.

River checked his apartment. His uncle had been right. There even already lived someone new in it. There were two possible explanations for this. Either Andreji had something to do with it, or Ray thought they were all dead (which was not far from the truth) and had taken care of their ‘legacy’. He needed to know.

There was no answer when he pressed Ray’s door bell. Perhaps he was in the bar that he often met with his hunters in. It was only a few blocks away from Ray’s flat.

Indeed, when River entered the bar, he immediately saw Ray sit at his regular table. He approached him from behind. Standing next to him at the table, River drew Ray’s attention on himself. “Ray?”

The elder man looked up – and froze in his movement, disbelief spreading all over his face. “River? I thought you…?” he broke off. “Wait…,” Ray raised himself from the seat. “If you are alive than you must have…” His face contorted. The next thing River perceived was Ray’s fist making contact with his face. His blow was hard; River crashed onto the floor and looked uncomprehendingly up at his mentor.

Ray’s face was distorted by rage. A handful of guys from nearby tables had gotten hold of him to keep him from any further violence. The man struggled against their grip. “You’ve betrayed them,” he hissed. “Andreji has warned me so many times not to let you plan the raid, but I would not listen, fool that I am! You are going to pay for this!” He struggled some more to get free.

The men that held him back called out for River to better get out.

Shocked that Andreji had somehow managed to trick Ray into believing he, River, of all people was responsible for the murder of his colleagues – and friends – he got up from the floor and slinked through the entrance door, feeling his swollen cheek.

River wandered aimlessly through the streets, clueless what he was supposed to do, now. He had nearly no money, he had no cash card; he did not even know his account number by heart. His apartment was gone and with it all of his belongings.

At some point in the afternoon, River decided to take the tube back to his uncle’s place. Perhaps he could help. He walked down the steps to the subway station. The tunnel was pretty crowded. The first ticket machine was out of use, so River went further inside. Looking for a second ticket machine, he could not help but feel watched. Suddenly his heart stopped. At the far end of the station, furthest away from the stairs, stood Andreji, leisurely leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and his eyebrows slightly raised.

F*ck! River sprinted back to the entrance and – despite it being daytime – a few more blocks away from the danger. No matter how calm Andreji had acted so far, River had affronted him, had embarrassed him in front of his fellow bloodsuckers – Andreji surely would not take that lightly.

River finally halted, bending forward and panting. Why had Andreji not even tried to catch him? Arrogant bastard! The way he had stood there…! River smiled. He had an advantage. He had escaped for a second time.

On the other hand, he could not risk going to his relatives anymore – it would be easy to waylay him there. Where would he be able to hide over night? There was no place vampires could not go when the sun had sunk behind the horizon… Well, there were polar days in the north, nights in which the sun always shone, but only in summer… - and he did not have enough money to leave the town anyway.

The only thing River could think of was going somewhere that Andreji would not expect him to go and to remain in public where an attack on him would catch attention. He took the bus to the nightclub district, bought something to eat there and watched the sun go down with dread. London was huge, all he could do was hope that Andreji did not find him. The situation was uncomfortable. River would have preferred to be able to do something to improve it, but he just could not think of anything sensible. Should he have taken a bus or train out of the city? That would have cost his last bit of money. Yet, what was money worth when he was captured again? Panic flooded his veins. God, why could he not think straight? There was always a solution, was there not? Why could he not see it?

The food in his hands turned cold.

People rushed past him in the early hours of the night, hurrying to do some late shopping or to get to their appointment on time. After a while, the crowd thinned. Some drunkards staggered past River. One vomited into a nearby corner.

An hour past midnight, it started to rain. Before River managed to find shelter, he was already soaked through. The coldness worsened the matter. River huddled up in a corner. He would go and see his uncle once more tomorrow, he decided, and ask him for enough money to leave the country. He had no idea yet where exactly he was going to go, but he understood now that was his only chance.

Unexpectedly, something warm settled on River’s shoulders. He looked up and immediately averted his eyes again. The old if-I-don’t-see-you-than-you-cannot-see-me-game. River feared to see the anger in the man who towered over him.

“One would think someone who has had weeks to plan his escape would come farther than this,” Andreji commented coolly. “A little advice for the next attempt – the higher the population density, the more vampires. There really are better places to hide in than London. Now come,” Andreji seized River by the shoulders that were warmed by Andreji’s thick coat, “I do not have all the night. I am hungry.”

River’s eyes widened. He shook his head in horror and denial.

Andreji pulled him up, placed an arm around him, and dragged him along.

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