Chapter 11: Habeas Corpse

"This is against my better judgment," Dwight muttered as he followed Richard out of the house and onto the balcony.

"Let yourself go, this is part of the field she works in, I'm sure," Richard replied as he looked over the railing. He breathed deeply and swung one leg over the iron rail. "Come on; it wasn't too difficult to get up here and it's not like you'll have to worry if you fall."

"Neither of us will fall," Dwight said. A wicked grin crossed his face before he reached out and took hold of Richard by the collar. Richard stared back in confusion, but only for a brief second. In what seemed like an instant, Dwight had crouched, leapt, and landed gracefully on the ground still holding onto the stunned reporter. "There, an easier way always exists."

"I thought you couldn't fly," Richard muttered as Dwight began to walk towards the forest.

"I thought you knew what flying was; I leapt from a balcony, Dees, there was no flight involved," Dwight corrected as he looked upward and sniffed the air. "Superior skill and physical control were all that was necessary."

"Good for you, but we need to move quickly so you can be back before she is," Richard said hurrying after the vampire as they moved towards the trees.

"That is not the sum of all our obstacles. Tonight is a new moon," Dwight said as he continued scanning the landscape while walking. "My studies have told me that werecreatures transform under both the new and full moons as they are times of highest transition for the tides and the body."

"Is that what Ceridwen said word for word or are you paraphrasing?" Richard asked with a laugh. Dwight frowned. He would be able to sound superior in intelligence with all of this knowledge someday, but for now Dees knew his source. "My plane is this way."

"What? We do not have time for an excursion, Ceridwen and Jeremiah will only be gone an hour," Dwight said firmly as Richard turned towards another section of the grounds.

"If I recall correctly, mister I hear and know all, Ceridwen said that it was about an hour away. If you think logically that they will not only have an hour out to get there, but also an hour's trip back, then that gives us two hours at least." Richard walked cautiously towards a grouping of bushes and then slipped motioned for Dwight to follow.

The vampire growled slightly in apparent agitation, but followed just the same. There was no use arguing or reasoning with Dees and the fact that he was going stir crazy in the mansion was beginning to escalate into a full blown episode of claustrophobic rage; a rage that would surely end with someone either maimed or dead if he didn't get out for a short while. Richard led the way through a corner of the woods to an adjoining field. Dwight had remembered several acres of farmland being nearby in his youth. Farming was not a mainstay of Maine's economy in his day and he hadn't seen it rise in recent years, but the fields were kept near the mansion never the less. Either extended family or another aristocrat had kept the land and house intact for years and kept the fields in place for peace and quiet. Richard's white Skyhawk lay a few feet away from the edge of the forest in the field. There was no crop at the moment and the grass had been well trimmed. Dwight admired the ground for a few moments and wondered what it would take to get Lenore from the hangar to one of these fields without Ceridwen knowing.

"How far away are we headed exactly?" Dwight asked as the two stood beside the plane. Richard opened the door and allowed Dwight to climb into the back before he entered. "It is not across a state line, is it?"

"Of course not," Richard said as he closed the door behind him. Dwight made himself as comfortable as possible, kneeling on the floor of the plane while Richard fastened his safety belt. "Up the coastline a little there's a small forested area that acts as a hiking attraction specifically for people trying to reconnect with their inner strength. There's a whole package tour thing, I looked it up. Anyway, that's where the first few were found."

"And where were the rest?" Dwight asked.

"Not far from you, actually," Richard replied as he started the engine. Dwight felt a small amount of anxiety move through him at thinking he would be allowing another man to pilot him to a location he didn't know. He breathed deeply and began to analyze different scenarios silently to distract himself from the loss of control. "In fact, they seemed to get closer to you guys. I'm kind of surprised that Jeremy and Ceridwen didn't say anything about it to you or about it at all."

"They have been a little distracted by her incidents, the coming of a new operative for blood disorders, and any progress I make," Dwight muttered glancing out of the windshield.

"And how much progress have you made?" Richard laughed as he pushed forward on the throttle.

Dwight growled softly. "I have yet to kill you."

"Yeah, well, when you leave off the yet part you'll really have shown improvement," Richard corrected as the small craft lifted effortlessly into the air. Dwight looked out of the nearest window as best he could, feeling at more peace than he had in months at being in the sky again. "In fact, the place we're going isn't too far from where you offed that Claire Bowie guy years ago. Do you remember that?"

Dwight's eyes shifted pensively at remembering the killing spree that had attracted Dees to him in the first place. He hadn't been sure why he had decided to return to the east coast after being in the northwest for so long. He had fed fairly well on tourists in the north with the authorities blaming animals. Perhaps it was the natural draw of home. He sighed and shook his head, straining to continue to look out the window without being too close to the pilot.

"Why are we not going to the most recent site? Why the first?" Dwight asked.

"It stands to reason that if the thing killing is a werecat like Ceridwen, then it will return to any place it found food to avoid being accurately tracked. That's how tigers work, you know," Richard explained. "I thought she would have mentioned something like that to you by now."

"I must have not been paying attention during that particular lesson in zoology," Dwight retorted. The two stayed silent for several moments as Dwight marveled at the passing landscape. He breathed deeply and felt all anxiety within him drifting away as rapidly as the stratus clouds passing the plane. How he had missed his nightly routine. True, there had been times where he had stayed in area convinced that he might be able to control himself long enough to ravage a library for answers. It had dawned on him in the past that he could have consulted a library in a large city that stayed open for hours after sunset, but Dwight had always hated large cities. Even as a boy, the visits he and his father had made to New York, Charleston, Raleigh, and Atlanta had made him feel ill. There was too much activity in a city with not enough real progress, like a hive full of mad bees with poor direction. He felt a sudden burst of energy as the plane began to dip lower.

"Beginning initial descent," Richard announced. "Hold onto your important bits."

Dwight ignored the man's comment as he watched the ground draw closer and closer. The landing portion of flight had always fascinated him. He had tried to make an art form out of a perfect touch to the earth with his own plane even while having a joy ride. There were few creatures in nature that landed gracefully, and Dwight wanted desperately to be one of those few. It still angered him that he had crashed for the first time months ago. He watched Richard unfasten his safety belt and crawl out of the craft over the wing. This was another of the aged pilot's peeves. The door to a craft should be below or after the wing, not above it. In his opinion, to have an entrance over the wing was nothing short of disrespect for Bernoulli and the principle of flight itself. He climbed out behind the reporter and sniffed the air. There was something odd about this area, something threatening but not necessarily nearby. Richard eyed the vampire carefully as he shut the door.

"This way," Dwight said emotionlessly as he began to follow the scent. Richard said nothing and hurried after him. Dwight's nostrils flared as a hint of blood began to excite his mind. The absence of the microchip allowed his fangs to protrude ever so slightly. He growled and breathed more deeply. The plane had landed in a field that had been harvested not too long ago. Winter was coming quickly to this side of Maine and November was settling in violently. The smells that the vampire had been able to detect for the past few days told him that there was a harsh cold snap headed there way soon. The farmer must have wanted all losses minimized by harvesting at as early a time as possible. Behind the plane, as had been the case back in Winter Harbour, were thick woods. Dwight could tell that the ocean was not too far, either. Ocean water was easier to smell than anything on the planet for him except for blood. It was something he could mercifully detect at a range of 20 miles. The shoreline was a little closer than that at the moment. Cool night air from the ocean was filtering wonderfully through the trees as the two ventured deeper into the unknown. Richard stumbled and cursed every few moments. Dwight walked calmly and cautiously, sensing that there was nothing in the immediate area that could harm either of them. The pale light of the moon, the perfect temperature, and the fresh breeze made this enjoyable for the vampire. He found himself smiling even with the hint of foul play in the air. Richard stayed several paces behind, asking frequently if the vampire had been able to smell anything dangerous. Dwight hadn't replied for several minutes, trying his best to inhale this little slice of pleasure that had been denied him for some time.

"Come on, man! I'm getting the willies out here, is there or is there not anything ahead that could kill me?" Richard demanded. Dwight felt a twinge of anger surge in him at this interruption, but the anger quickly faded into curious fear as a new, or rather, more potent smell met his nostrils. He stopped dead and tried to find the exact direction for the scent. He turned and grunted, beginning to move more swiftly towards it. Richard frowned and drew in a deep breath. "Oh, give me a break. I can't keep with you if you're going to bolt like that!"

"Hurry up, or you lose the one thing that assures you won't be killed by this animal," Dwight called from several feet ahead. He sprinted as slowly as possible for the mortal's sake, but found himself uncontrollably drawn in the direction with an enormous amount of energy now coursing through him. Richard did his best to keep up, still stumbling and cursing in the darkness. Dwight followed the scent almost blindly as it began to grow stronger, fouler, and mingled with blood. His stomach began to turn. This was not blood that would serve as an acceptable source of food; this was from torn flesh. "It's killed again," Dwight called.

"You can smell that?" Richard replied between gasps for breath. He saw the vampire stop and stare down at something in amazement. Seeing that he wouldn't have far to go to catch up now, Richard allowed himself to go a little slower and catch his breath somewhat before joining Dwight. As he arrived, he caught sight of what looked like a human body. The moonlight was not enough for him to see clearly, but Dwight had the gift of nocturnal vision. The moonlight was more than enough to show the vampire the features of the mangled remains of a human who had deep gashes over their torso, neck, face, and limbs. He turned and grasped the trunk of nearby tree to steady himself. He had not fed that evening, but now he was feeling something stronger than hunger; nausea. This creature was definitely not a normal local animal, angered by the invasion of its territory. Dwight felt a stronger waft of the scent roll over him. He knelt and retched as his eyes grew wide with recognition. Yes, this was a werecreature, and it was one that he recognized all too well. Richard stumbled over to his semi-friend and stood beside him, fighting off a peristaltic reaction of his own. "What did this?" he choked, realizing once again the difference in seeing gore through a camera lens and seeing it without such filtration.

"Ceridwen," Dwight whispered.