I helped the hiker grab the trunk and hold on while I cut the rope on which he was hanging.

I finished and he fell into the grass and lay down with his legs in pain.

My neck ached like hell too, but there was no time to rest.

"When you're done, help me," I shouted, looking for the shovel to continue the work, which Crocodile hadn't finished.

I finally found it.

"Are you digging the grave?" The hiker asked after a few minutes, still quite uncertain.

"Yes, the one originally intended for you," I shouted over my shoulder.

It was quite easy for me, Crocodile had a really good tool.

"And you won't bury me in it with them?"

"I wouldn't cut you loose then," I snapped and looked around while digging.

Either no one paid attention to the shootout - in which case I had to bury them quickly, or now several police officers were hurrying here, and in that case I had to run away before they took a picture of me. But what about the hiker in that case? I'll deal with it when it comes to that.

"They were after you?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, measuring the hole.

Still too small, neither of them were the scrawny type.

"But they got it wrong."

And we got a genius.

"You're a pretty weird guy," he continued.

"Yeah."

"I guess you should take a look, to know what they are. I'll take your place."

He was already standing next to me with his hand outstretched.

I checked the grave again.

I have already done most of the work and he was right. I pressed the shovel into his hand and went to search them. I took their documents, RWCs, and weapons. Both had Glock 19, one with the silencer. Croc still had a very nice dagger made of bayonet, an estimate from the nineteenth century. I looked for signs, which vampires supposedly label their servants with, but I didn't find any. Nothing else that could reveal their true identities.

"I think that's enough," the hiker interrupted my search.

He was right.

I grabbed Cow by the arms, he was heavier than I expected. But they would probably say the same about me.

"I'll help you," the hiker offered.

I just shook my head.

"Don't do it, it would scare you in your dreams."

He hesitated, but obeyed.

I slid both of them inside, then we buried them. Only now did he realize how badly they had burned him.

I picked up things I wanted to take. With a bit of luck, the turf grass that covered the grave and the fireplace will overgrow in a few days and no one will know anything. The hiker was almost as good at camouflage as I was.

"Here," I handed him a bundle of banknotes I found on the glyhens. "You'll need time to recover," I said before he started protesting.

The burns must have started to hurt already.

"A month at the spa will help."

He took the money and nodded hesitantly.

"Alright. But I'd rather move further east, this country is too civilized for me, and if anyone looked for me, they would easily find me by asking around."

I didn't understand his remark, but without further delay he waved goodbye to me and headed east. And he did not look at the compass. What a natural.

I was left with weapons, ammunition, documents and car keys. I started to go back downhill, wondering if I should keep the rover for at least a while. It will certainly be two or three days before their masters start looking for the killers. And the car could be useful to me. Considering the risk…

 

* * *

 

I parked it just outside the upper end of the town near one of the new buildings under construction. I hoped the locals would think the car belonged to one of the people going to move here. I took the seized documents with me, leaving my weapons in the trunk.

I undressed in the room and jumped into the shower. For ten minutes, then the hot water stopped flowing. The cold one did not do well to my steamrolled muscles. I gritted my teeth, the years in the unit taught me hardness – and with suppressed cursing I dressed up. It suddenly seemed like the hardest task I did today.

I sat on the bed for a while. I needed to think, but it wasn't possible with my stomach roaring with hunger. I left the six under the bed, but after a moment of hesitation I took the 500 with me. And a spare five rounds. If other vampire minions do not follow me, I will be at least able to decimate the guests of even the largest of the restaurants in the area.

I slid down the stairs, and before I went out, the owner saw me from the bar.

"Are you going to eat?"

"Yes," I shouted.

I wasn't in the mood to courtesy.

"We started cooking," he announced in a tone that other people use to announce the birth of a long-awaited son, or a win in the lottery.

"Beer on behalf of the company," he added, as if it was God knows what.

I realized that something like this is not rejected here at home. At home? I haven't been here for forty years, and now this is home?

"Walk into the back hall then," he explained my hesitation to himself in a positive way.

After all, why not.

I walked through a small bar and then through a bead curtain to an even smaller dining room. The place here was exactly four tables for four people. I obediently sat down at one of them and was glad I didn't have to go anywhere. Outside the casement windows I could see it was getting dark, not to mention damp and creepy. If the weather worsens, and here it happens more often than meteorologists predict, it can easily rain for three days at a time.

"Would you like a goulash or a goulash?"

I was so tired I didn't hear the old lady in the white apron coming. Maybe she wasn't old, but she was stylized that way, or she just felt old. Gray hair in a vague wavy hairstyle, glasses with wide rims.

"Hello," I greeted her with a smile, which I realized with a delay was not fake.

"It's not a big choice," I said.

"I've been here since noon, and my boss hasn't given me much to cook from yet," she countered, waiting patiently.

"And you cook and serve as well?"

"You are one of the two guests, the tour that is supposed to pull the thorn out of our heels will not arrive until the evening. I'll get an assistant. "

Tour - great cover.

"And the goulash will be made of what?" I asked suspiciously.

She liked my question.

"Deer, boy. Shot by my son, and you can be certain it passed the right veterinary inspection, because otherwise I wouldn't have cooked the slightest slab of meat from it.

"That sounds decent," I said. "I'd like deer stew, do you have it on your menu? A double portion, please."

She laughed sincerely and staggered into the kitchen without answering.

After three beers and two servings of goulash, each with six fluffy dumplings, I was ready for sleep.

The way up the stairs to the room was five times more difficult than down. I couldn't decide if the beer, the food, or the bruises that Mr. Cow had given me were to blame. Or Croc? It didn't matter, they were both having their last dark dream.

I unlocked the door thoughtlessly, opened it, and entered the room. It wasn't until I stepped inside that I realized my mistake - someone was waiting for me.

"Not a single move."

I froze, letting my palm freely touch the revolver handle.

It was a woman's voice and it wasn’t unknown to me. How long have I not heard it, half my life? All the trumps were in her palm. With an unpleasant tingle around my spine, I turned, closed the door behind me, and switched on the light.

"A conceited guy like back then."

I didn't get a bullet, I turned around more relaxed.

On a single chair sat a long-legged brunette in such a short skirt that if she didn't put her knees together, I would see all the way to the place where the men want to get at all costs. She wore her perfectly modeled legs in patterned tights, and shoes with a steel-shiny sharp heel, which a firearms pass should be issued for. Her shirt fit her flat stomach perfectly, but it didn’t leave much room for breasts, as if she had mistakenly bought three numbers smaller.

"You still haven't looked me in the face," she said.

"How are you, Evelyn?" I asked.

She hasn't aged a year, but rather used the past decades to become even more attractive than ever. I couldn't tell if she was lightly tanned or if it is the makeup, nonetheless, her lips had exactly the same shape I remembered. Memories came back unexpectedly sharply.

She was holding a pistol in her hand. Her nails were long, reaching far beyond the trigger, if she had to shoot often and quickly, she would be in trouble.

"That gun is useless, isn't it?"

"Maybe," she replied, pointing it aside.

The movement was confident and smooth. I followed it with my eyes. There on the sofa tucked against the wall sat my new acquaintance – Agnieszka.

"That's useless, too," I said.

"Really?"

Evelyn fixed her dark eyes on me. Blacker than coffee, blacker than night. Enchanting and deep. At least for me. Once. Or did her addictiveness lie in her breasts, legs, lap, and how close she was? I wasn't sure anymore and I didn't want to remember it.

"She saved my life," I said softly.

I knew Evelyn, she could pull the trigger.

"Good. She suggested something similar to me," she shook her head until the mane of dark hair shook. The gun did not.

She put the gun away, I realized that she actually hid it in the handbag on her lap. It was so small that it had to be custom made, in order for a square weapon to fit inside.

I asked about it.

"Dumbass, it's a Versace envelope bag, I had to file the cock to stuff the damn thing inside."

She hasn't changed in the slightest over the years.

"Well, you've had enough greeting. Maybe we should focus on the more important things," came a dry voice from the sofa.

"But of course, Agnieszka," Evelyn grinned.

She pronounced her name so carefully that it bordered on ridicule.

“Can you order food to the room? Pizza and something to drink? I have to take a shower," she turned to me and got up from her chair.

As light and elegant as only a very trained person could do. But she was a werewolf, so she didn't have a problem with her high heels.

"I hope there's some unused towel in the bathroom."

She did not wait for the answer and disappeared outside the door.

"And you will have?" I turned to Agnieszka.

"Are you always so obedient, or just to her?" She asked.

I wasn't sure what she meant.

"I'm polite," I replied cautiously. "If you brought her here, we should work together. I think ordering pizza is a better start than not ordering it. "

I didn't understand how she found her, but she did it. And she found me too.

"Do you have a problem with that?" She asked. "That I brought her?"

"I do not."

"Do I hear an emphasis on the word I?"

I thought for a moment about what I meant. Exactly what I said.

"Did she come voluntarily?" I asked.

"At first I had to be very convincing," she admitted.

I felt like I could recognize the now healing abrasions on her jaw.

"But it worked."

"In the end, yes," she agreed.

Actually, I didn't want to know what the two had together. The important thing was that my rescuer, based on a vague description, tracked down the last one of our pack and brought them here.

"How did you find me here?" I asked the important thing.

"It was Evelyn, she said, you would be somewhere near the border with Slovakia, somewhere in this region. She said you like it here. "

That was true. I hoped our enemies did not have the same information. Half a century ago, I liked it here. I chased sheep, wolves and sometimes bears.

"I'm going for the pizza. What will you have?”

"Anything that will be bloody."