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Chapter 9

A few days of working passed without much excitement. Business had picked up though. Mr. Guise had received many compliments on his graveyard host. This information he passed on to Darek. He had a hard time accepting compliments when he was younger and also now. He just got pink in the face and smiled.

Excitement at Marks house was extinct also. Darek spend his time reading or reviewing maps of the northwestern European continent. That is supposedly where Lancer is located. It's just so small that it's not on any map, he assumed.

Mark had started on a new canvas. He had lots of unfinished ones all about his room. His most prized, were hanging on the walls. Every once in a while, Darek would casually walk by trying to glance at the new art, but Mark would cover it up quickly. It was a pet peeve of the artist.

One afternoon, while they were continuing with their tasks, Marks mother came into the room. She carried an envelope in and gave it to Darek. He glanced at Mark as he accepted it. He was just watching his mother. She didn't wait for him to open it, she just left.

He stared at it for a few seconds and then tore it open. He slowly pulled out a piece of folded, black construction paper. He set the envelope on the bed, not taking his eyes from the contents. He unfolded it to reveal chalk writing. It read;

Dear Darek,

You didn't think that we would forget about you, did you? I know where you are. Maybe I'll show up for a visit soon. Do you mind if I bring a few friends?

Yours Truly

Darek crumpled the note and looked at Mark. He was still painting. He didn't seem to notice. Odd, he thought. He's usually nosey. He didn't say anything about it. He threw the note and envelope into the trash. He then threw himself on the bed and picked up the book he had laid there earlier. He began to read. After about a half-hour of it, he fell asleep.

He woke up around nine o'clock. Mark was not to be found. As he walked out of the room, he glanced at the wastebasket. Then he thought he remembered something. He had heard a rustling nearby during his nap, so he opened his eyes. Mark had been rummaging through the trash. Now he was reading the tossed note. That's when Darek fell back to sleep. He wasn't sure it that was a dream or not. If wasn't, what would it mean?

He had two hours until work began. He decided it would be his last night. He would inform Mark of his plans to leave tomorrow evening. These hunters figured out where he was staying, somehow. He had definitely underestimated them. Now they were closing in on him.

He walked outside and felt the sun sinking behind a near mountain range. Sight was not needed. In the daylight hours, when he was out, the rays of the sun gave him pain. Not a tremendous pain, but uncomfortable enough. It felt like every ray would penetrate his skin. He preferred to be completely covered.

He now wore fingerless gloves and a jacket. All of his clothing was black. Even in the heat of the day. People began asking, "Aren't you hot?" He would just shake his head. His collars were also stood up to protect his neck. He was seldom out during those hours however, due to his work schedule.

For the next hour and a half, he walked around town watching people. They not only watched him, they stared at him. It used to bother him at first, but now it humored him. He used to try and figure out what was wrong with his appearance, but he noticed nothing unusual.

He walked into an alley and glanced around. His intention was to change and fly to work. That was spoiled by his glimpse of a glowing cigarette. He readjusted his eyes to see through the darkness. Unconsciously he began to walk forward.