Chapter Thirty-Seven: To Live or Die

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Faye said she needed to be alone so Cyrus left without a backward glance. He went down the stairs and out the front door letting it close silently behind him. He wanted to stay, he didn’t want to let her handle what was in that folder by herself, but that was Faye. He may not have known her for very long, but he knew her. She needed to sort her thoughts out before she could move forward so he let her have that space, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do.

At first, he couldn’t even walk away from the house. It took several minutes of pacing back and forth for him to realize the concept of space meant more than pulling a lost puppy impersonation. He was gonna have to go somewhere else, but before he walked off, he looked back at the door hoping for some kind of sign to stay.  There wasn't one, so he stormed off the porch into the trees. He didn’t know where to go and when he realized he was heading towards Howahkan’s he decided it was probably for the best.

A few minutes later Cyrus emerged from the cover of the trees into the small clearing where Howahkan’s property sat. He was momentarily struck by a powerful gust of warm air that pasted his loose clothes tight to his skin, rustling the tree branches loudly. It was seemingly out of nowhere and when it stopped, the air felt warmer. He glanced around a little thrown and spotted Howahkan out on his dock. He was lounging in a chair with a beer can and a fishing pole. Cyrus approached silently, but Howahkan knew he was there, and said without looking back, “What’re you doing in my breeze, Vampire?”

Cyrus gestured toward the tree limbs swaying noisily again, “This is not a breeze.”

“What’d you want,” Howahkan asked.

“I don’t know,” Cyrus responded, and at that Howahkan turned his body so he was facing Cyrus. When their eyes met. an odd expression took over Howahkan’s face.

“What,” Cyrus questioned, as Howahkan put the fishing pole down and stood up, looking towards the sky.

“Something’s happening,” he said, tensing.

Cyrus looked up, then back at Howahkan, who was looking at him again.

“What is it,” Cyrus asked, feeling uneasy.

“I think this is about her,” He said gesturing around at nothing in particular, or maybe everything, and he took a step in Cyrus’ direction raising his hands out towards Cyrus’ face.

“What’re you doing,” Cyrus questioned and took a step back. Howahkan didn’t answer as he inched closer hesitantly, and then it hit him like a jolt of electricity.

Cyrus remembered the last time, the only time, Howahkan had ever approached him in that manner. He had the same dazed and distant look in his eyes, as if he was nothing but a vessel being guided by some invisible force. Cyrus shook his head, “Don’t come any closer, don’t do it. Don’t you touch me.”

“I have to,” Howahkan said in a thick voice, sounding almost apologetic, as he crept closer.

“Why,” Cyrus demanded, debating if he should risk touching the old fucker to launch him into the lake, thinking maybe the cold water would snap him out of it, but time for action came before he could make a decision.

Howahkan was close enough that all he had to do was reach out. He gripped Cyrus’ forearm and it was as if his mind no longer had any connection to his limbs. His legs buckled instantly bringing him to his knees. He managed to tilt his head upwards toward Howahkan’s face and the last thing he saw were Howahkan’s eyes clouding over to a solid white, before the heat started in his brain, shutting him down completely.

 

Faye had lost herself so completely that she hadn’t realized the situation she put herself in. The moon was the only light in the sky and she could barely see two feet in front of her face, let alone the ground below her feet.

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