Like Air.

It was around midnight. The rain had settled in and a comforting draft cooled the darkened room. A single candle was lit in the far corner, releasing a scent of baby's breath and roses. The window was open; a light drizzle sprinkled onto the window-seat and they could hear the distant rumble of thunder, growling quietly as does a threatening beast. The clouds were a metallic grey, seemingly illuminated by an unseen source. The two figures were silhouetted by the darkness and the occasional silent flash of brilliant white light.

He had about a week or so's worth of pocket money, a Swiss army knife, a light, woolly blanket, some bottles of Aquafina, and a week's ration of non perishable foods all packed in a duffel bag.

Her forehead was well pronounced and marked with anxiety as she watched him prepare to leave. She put an affectionate hand on his arm as he slung the bag over his shoulder. She was a frail girl at heart and feared for him.

"You know that he's been expanding territory down from Oregon as of lately." A crease developed on her forehead in the slightest hint of distress. "They'll take over the Nevada territories in no time with his threatening influence. His recruits are well-trained and brutal, and they're in many numbers. You'll be crossing territory, if you plan to go to Utah, and you'll pass the radius of the reconnissances. He'll never let you go. Especially not you."

He raised a hand to silence her, and then squeezed her shoulder as an act of reassurance. "I have to go. It's urgent," he insisted dutifully.

"What takes you there?"

He hesitated, then, for her sake, explained.

"...There's been a string of genocide killings in the general northeastern part of Utah, centered mainly around Salt Lake City. The killer- or killers- are picking their victims very stringently and precisely- their features and ages correspond with each other uncannily. Autopsies have revealed that about 92 to 96 percent of the blood had been withdrawn from each. There are no other injuries inflicted on the victims other than severe puncture wounds and gashes around their wrists and necks. DNA forensic investigators can't make head or tail of it. It seems that the only conclusion that they can follow the evidence up with is-

"Vampires," she concluded bemusedly. "Or extremely devoted vampire enthusiastics."

"This isn't funny," he said while smiling grimly himself.

A light rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. "What do you think it is?" She moved to close the bay window as the rain had begun to pelt down with more confidence.

"I..." he was at a loss. "I don't rightly know." He sat down onto the love seat parallel to the window, folding his arms on his as he leaned back with a frown. "The obvious choice would seem to be vampires," he said, "But it doesn't really fit together. Most vampires aren't very selective of their blood hosts."

" -And, to add," she said, inviting herself on the love seat, next to him, " most don't drain the body of their victim's blood entirely. They usually secret off the needed amounts, and the host's blood will reproduce to replace the lost amount. Otherwise, the human race would wipe out in no time, and vampires would eventually be forced to starve or convert to 'vegetarian' vampire habits, sucking blood from animals."

"Do you see now why I have to go?" he asked her, straightening up from the seat and heading towards the window.

"Yes, but, why you? Why not somebody... I don't know, older? Or, why don't you bring others with you?" she approached him and placed a hand on the small of his back. "Don't do this, please? It's not in your power to try and fix this."

"I can all but try," he sighed, "I'm the only one willing to go. The rest are too afraid to cross their precious territory boundaries. And bringing others would only attract attention, which is something key to avoid on going to Utah."

She sighed, knowing that there was no way that his mind would yield, and that the purpose was considerable. If no one would reach to those helpless in Utah, what would become of them? This genocide case proved to be very concerning to the authorities, but she doubted that they would reach the conclusion that it was the work of something deviously supernatural, and would be forced to put it on the back burner until things quieted down.

Until the murderers were satisfied.

So, as he drew her close in their parting embrace, she whispered to him, "Be safe.'' He opened the bay window once more, greeted by a shower of rain, and he steadied himself on the frame. As she gently blew out the scented candle, plunging the room into complete darkness, he released his grip on the window frame and jumped forward, two stories down. And as he landed, canine paws touched the sodden ground.