Among the Living: A Measure of Guilt

3.



Carl found Van Helsing's path easily, even in the fading light; it was as if the man had charged through with a scythe and a purpose. But where was he headed? To Carl, checking the area had meant just that, the area close around the camp. It appeared Van Helsing had taken a line directly away from camp and kept going. This only reinforced Carl's belief that Van Helsing was afraid of being around him, around anyone. But how was he going to get through to the man when he found him?



'Van Helsing, your choice of footpath has confirmed my suspicions about your sudden solitary nature.' How brilliantly moving. Think man, think!



Carl slowed to give himself time to figure out exactly how he was going to go about this. He'd tried so many different approaches already just to get the man to open up to him, without success. Carl tried to calm his emotions and set his analytical brain to work on the problem. Before he'd taken more than a few dozen steps, he knew what he had to do and mentally chided himself for taking so long to come to the proper conclusion.



Van Helsing was an unconventional man, suffering for truly unconventional reasons. Carl would try simple persuasion once again, but if that failed, as he suspected it would, perhaps an unconventional approach offered the best hope of success. As the plan formed in his mind, he knew it would be difficult for him to carry it out. But it could be no more difficult than taking that silver stake from Van Helsing and agreeing to kill him, should the need arrive. He'd agreed to do it, and when the moment came, as awful as it was, he'd intended to follow through. That pain, that loss, would have been Carl's forever.



Any pain he was about to cause Van Helsing would be temporary and for the man's own good. Carl said a quick prayer for strength and forged ahead.



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Van Helsing froze. Something moved in the darkness between Van Helsing and the camp where Carl probably slept, completely vulnerable. How could he be so careless?



He'd been too absorbed in his own thoughts and hadn't been paying attention to the forest around him. Van Helsing circled the tree, putting it between himself and the source of the noise, giving him at least the element of surprise. He held onto the tree as if it might try to run away. Damp bark cracked loose under his fingers. If anything had happened to Carl. . . he pushed that thought aside, and tried to see whatever was coming closer.



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Carl walked faster now that he had a clear course of action. He almost tripped when the hem of his robe caught on a prickly bush and refused to pull free. He tried to extricate himself without tearing the fabric but only managed to get himself more tangled.



Frustration won out and he jerked his robe free, tearing the already frayed edge. "Damn!"



Van Helsing could hear something moving again, several yards away, what sounded like something scrabbling in the underbrush, and then a curse. His knees softened with pure relief. "Carl?"



Carl jumped. "Oh, Van Helsing!" He patted his chest and looked up at the quickly approaching man. "You scared the wits out of me!"



Van Helsing was beside Carl before he finished the sentence. "What are you doing? Is something wrong?"



"No, I just caught my robe on a bush and--"



"Why are you out here wandering around?" Van Helsing's voice was tight. "It's almost dark."



Carl squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I'm aware of that. But I want to talk to you about your recent behavior."



"You're out here alone in the woods because you want to talk to me? Now?" Van Helsing stepped directly in front of Carl. "Have you taken a leave of your senses?"



Carl refused to be intimidated. "No, I haven't. But I'm starting to wonder if you have."

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Cousin Shelley
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