"Any sign of him?" she asked.
Aaron was having a hard time focusing. His hands fidgeted as if deciding to drive away or grab his gun, "I lost him, too."
"Something's wrong," she muttered, "I just know it."
"We should've gone together," Aaron said.
Alaire looked at him, a bit surprised, "You would've gone back?"
"Well, not happily. But we came all this way anyway. I tagged along the entire time while trying to find you, so I should.."
She gave him a sad smile, her chest felt warm for a second, "You really did?"
"What?"
"Stayed with him until you found me."
"Yeah," Aaron snorted, "I wasn't going to let you go missing again. Not again, not ever."
Alaire took a deep inhale, not letting it out. Her eyes felt moist like at any moment she'd become a human sprinkler, spraying petty emotions. Just hold it in...
From the backseat, Dylan sighed loud enough for them to remember he was present. Aaron coughed while adjusting in his seat, "We'll give him a couple minutes, then I'll go look for him."
"Not by yourself," Alaire added.
"Yes, by myself."
"You're being annoyingly protective..."
"You're being annoyingly difficult to protect."
"Touche."
Aaron rolled his eyes, "I just barely got you back, can you let me enjoy that at least."
Alaire pouted but didn't know how to reply. He's being awfully weird... She studied his face until he turned away.
Dylan suddenly poked his head in the front, "Hey."
Aaron spoke in an aggravated tone, "Yes?"
"Well," Dylan's voice was animated with satire, "I heard something, and uh, I'm pretty sure we're screwed."
"Screwed?" Aaron grunted.
Alaire and Aaron scanned their surroundings again, only this time, white figures moved silently out from the trees. They were dressed similarly to how Dylan was earlier - hoodies and masks, except instead of black they were all white to match the snow. They glided from the snow and into the street like ghosts in the fog.
"I think the detective is in trouble," Aaron switched gears so they were no longer parked.
"We can't leave him behind!" Alaire pleaded.
Aaron ignored her and revved the car's engine. The white hooded strangers didn't to take to his warning and continued standing still. "Alright, then," Aaron slammed on the gas, creating some ice in the gravel, and sped towards them. They jumped out of the way, but Alaire spotted something left behind on the road. "Aaron...!"
A line of silver spikes was planted on the gravel. They could've easily been mistaken for chunks of ice, but there was no denying it, especially when both front tires exploded on impact. Aaron tried regaining control of the car but as the shredded tires and metal ground against the asphalt, they headed straight for the trees.
The car came to a crashing halt - the right side taking the biggest hit. The airbag punched Alaire in the face. She tried shouting, but her words were muffled. Dylan was thrown around in the backseat before hitting Aaron's chair from behind.
Pressure built from Alaire's nose and to her brain. She was in pain, but nothing serious, nothing broken. Dylan, on the other hand, was moaning, "Oh-ho, ow!"
Aaron took the least of the blow and was alert, high off adrenaline, "Alaire, you two get out. Get out now."
"Get... what?"
"Now! Get out!" Aaron barked, "Run!"
Aaron shoved the deflating airbag until he could free himself from the vehicle. The gun once hidden in his pants was now aimed at the ready in his hands. Alaire's stomach dropped when she heard the booming sounds of gunshots.
"Go!" Aaron said, "Don't let them take us both."
Dylan slumped out of the car, his arm in pretty bad shape. His face scrunched together every inch he moved. Alaire hesitated, looking from right to left at Aaron shooting and Dylan making his way to the forest.
Alaire went for her gun as well, but Aaron yelled at her again, "Alaire!"
She forced back tears and she fled from the car, following Dylan into the trees and snow. They tripped over roots that were buried under the white and cold powder. Aaron... Alaire turned back only once. He was holding up, for now... Until he ran out of bullets.
Alaire remembered what Aaron told them about Thanato, and how he couldn't touch him. Hopefully, that was still true... It didn't look like Aaron was aiming to kill. Only a couple of them had shots in the leg and shoulder, and the others scattered taking cover where they could. None of them had guns, at least, none of them had retaliated.
How many of them could there be? Alaire kept her eyes peeled, making sure to not mistaken any lump in the snow as a hooded creep in disguise.
Dylan cradled his arm, "Where should we go..."
"I-I don't know," Alaire's voice shook, "Just keep going."
*****
Aaron was down to his last bullet. Not one of them had shot back at him - assuming they had weapons. They just behind trees and rocks and blended in with piles of snow. He'd shot a few of them, something he'd never really done before. Sure, he went shooting every now and then, but as far as shooting people, of course, this was a first.
He remembered what it felt like getting shot in the shoulder - I hope this hurts too, bastards. This couldn't be it; this couldn't be all Thanato was capable of. These hooded henchmen weren't stationed here to be shot at. So what was going on?
"Aaron?"
Aaron had positioned himself behind his opened car door as he contemplated what to do with this last bullet. Hopefully, he'd given Alaire time to get some distance from this place. But that voice...
"Aaron? Come out, come out..."
He couldn't help but peer out to see who was calling for him. Standing out against the winter landscape was the figure covered in black. Aaron stepped out, aiming his gun at the man's chest.
"There you are!" the man outstretched his arms in welcome, "Oh, but... where's your pretty little friend?"
"Who are you," Aaron growled.
"Aaron..." the man pretended to sound distraught, "I know you've recognized me by now."
That's impossible, totally and completely ...
The man reached for the mask covering his face. Slowly, like peeling off a bandaid, Aaron watched as the face of the mystery man came into the open. The surprise almost made Aaron drop his weapon.
"How...?"
Underneath the black hood was the mangled face of Matt. Professor Kellor. His head caved inwards. Wounds from torn flesh had healed and scabbed over. One eye was completely missing, the other looked splotchy and red and hardly functional. His jaw was unhinged and lopsided as he tried to grin in Aaron's direction. Aside from these impossible injuries, something was amiss. Aaron could feel a darkness radiating from Professor Kellor's very soul. Even as he spoke, his mouth hardly moved - like something was speaking for him.
"Immortality, baby." Professor Kellor.
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