Chapter 12 – Man Of Sorrows

The Toyota stopped in front of the cabin at last. Kim went to help Ian out of the driver seat. He had managed well, even if he had been woken up before his body and brain were really ready. Now that the danger of arrest was over, Kim thought of the actually responsible way from this point forward.

"Should we call an ambulance? Tell them that you fell or something?" she asked, while Erik was struggling to get the cabin door open.

Just then Ian's cell phone beeped.

He spent some seconds to read the screen, an arrived message, and then he almost fell against the cabin's door.

"Fuck. God damned fucking shit," he breathed, and Kim honestly could not follow. "No ambulance. I have to get back. Jo tells me some darknet fuckers have the house under watch. Sending live feed to the internet. Fuck!"

There was a profound transformation. While a second ago he had been about to fall on his ass, now he was almost shaking from anger and despair. Kim thought she had seen it before.

"You can't be going anywhere right now. You can barely stay upright," Kim said.

Perversely, Kim thought that this turn of events might distract from the fight between them. Though it was really horrible to think that way. And – what would it mean? How bad was it? Were there deadly enemies lurking out there, trying to eliminate all of them? Would they need to fight for real again?

Well, at least they were finally inside the cabin now. Erik managed to get the lights on, but then he collapsed against the fireplace.

Kim led Ian to the table.

"I'll make black coffee. Then you'll have to stay awake just so that we see you're not going to die from the concussion. If you have one," she said.

Ian said nothing in protest, but Kim could tell he was not pleased.

And then there was the matter of Erik's condition. Kim got the coffee maker going, and then she went over to him. It was curious that now when she had these two guys to take care of, she could not angst over her thoughts as much, of what was the proper degree of misanthropy. Or even the band situation.

Erik was shaking his head slowly, almost in a catatonic state.

"It's over. Ian will never want to play with us. Mark my words," he said in low drunken growl.

"Well, there are multiple situations going on. We can't know that yet."

"What – other situation?"

"Jo sent a message. If I understood right, the studio is rigged. Some assholes have been watching it, I don't know how long."

"Fuck. Back to the old madness."

It seemed almost like Erik was going to cry.

"Last time – Ian came here to get my help. But if he had known what kind of – violent – shithead – I am, he wouldn't have bothered. He'll go away, as soon as he can. Then he won't come back."

Kim thought Erik would only sink deeper into self-pity. The drinking and the silence earlier in the day had only been the start. She had thought of maybe getting Erik to drink the coffee too, and he would come to his senses from that already. But what could she do now?

Not knowing better right away, she just sunk to the floor to sit next to Erik.

She did not like what she would possibly have to do, any more than being forced to kiss Ian. The behavior patterns were foreign. It was just a bit similar when drinking absinthe and bonding with Jo, which Kim remembered hazily.

"Hey. Remember that I'm in the same boat with you. I provoked the pool table guys. Do you even remember that?"

"It's nothing."

"I might have hit Ian first too. But what if he thinks of your fight in the same way too? That it's nothing. Now he's only concerned of his headache and the trouble Jo is in."

"I'm still a violent asshole. I dreamed –"

Erik's mouth curled into an expression of extreme pain.

"- of hitting you too. In a band rehearsal."

Kim felt her heart miss one beat. So that was what the nightmare had been about.

"But it's not real. I dream of killing God or Satan or my parents all the time," Kim replied.

Not really convinced, Erik just stared ahead in catatonia.

Kim felt very much lost, so she just wrapped her arms around his upper body, trying to get him to lean against her. Or to collapse into her lap if he was already in deep enough.

"Erik... Maybe – I shouldn't be singing doom metal when I don't actually understand it. At least not the occult shit. Necrotic Dust was great, but it's just a memory. If – I can play anything with you guys, it would be great. And if you'd just come back from wherever you are, that would be –"

Kim felt like she was no longer in control of her voice. She broke into tears, and could not remember if that had ever happened before.

"- the best."