No Air

By day, Aerial and Tyson research things that go bump in the night. At night, they hunt those same things. But, that's not what scares them. What scares them is something a lot more human.

Tyson set his empty glass down on the table, his eyes fixed on the clock hanging behind

the bar.

            10:40PM.

            He raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat, checking the place out. Friends were

tossing back shooters around tables stained with glass rings and food smudges; waitresses’

young and old sauntered about with trays of dishes perched atop bent wrists, the seasoned giving

the green perkier ones dirty looks behind their backs. “Bad Moon Rising” cranked out from the

tired old record machine, just as another gruff trucker was leaving with a giggling blonde on his

arm.

            Tyson sighed. Some things never changed. What was it about red neck dump bars like

this one that attracted supernatural evil? One of the waitresses was a siren, the guy sitting at the

bar with dark shades and pale skin was obviously a vampire, the bartender was a werewolf �"

which was why his son worked the bar three days out of the month �" and the brunette with long

legs eyeing Tyson from across the bar was a demon. Tyson continued to ignore her, ticking his

eyes to the clock again.

            10:43PM.

            Aerial was making a house out of cards at her table, her legs crossed on her seat. Keeping

steady, she set a Queen atop her budding structure, and the building promptly crumbled.

Blowing out a sigh, she fell against the sticky back of her chair and checked her cell phone.

            10:48PM.

            She shook her head. When were the vamps going to start their ruckus? She knew damn

well they were here; she could see them. There he was sitting with his posse: a vampire

supposedly as old as Cleopatra. She highly doubted it; faux age was just as important as size to

male vamps. She’d come here the second she got word a vampire-initiated massacre was going

to go down. It didn’t take long to find the perpetrators here. She’d simply had to follow the body

trail.

            Twisting the cap off another cold one, Tyson let his gaze linger on Aerial. Commencing

with the reconstruction of her card palace, Aerial ignored him. If a blood bath in a bar wasn’t

enough to anticipate, now she had him to worry about, too. She tried to fake disinterest as best

she could but when he wasn’t looking at her, she cheated a few glances anyway. He looked the

same as he did over a year ago when they split: he still wore those worn out work boots he

insisted he’d replace only when the soles broke from the mould; there were those jeans with

tattered bottoms; from his shoulders hung a blue plaid shirt over his built upper body, and finally

he had a head of thick chestnut brown hair, the layers of it splitting and falling into his hazel eyes

so he would have to brush them away all the time. The hunting life was treating him well.

            Taking another drink, Tyson continued to take in the visual of Aerial. She was wearing

those black boots, those boots that sounded so sexy when she strut up to interrogate a demon or

throw a punch; her dark jeans were practically painted onto strong legs and hips; around her neck

she wore a necklace her father had given her when she was a child, the protective amulet hanging

low from it into the v-neck of her violet tee shirt, and then she topped it all off with a russet

leather jacket upon where her deep brown hair sat in an ocean of ringlets. How she managed to

look so picture-perfect with the hunting lifestyle, Tyson would never know. She looked good

though. She looked very good.

            The light drizzle outside morphed into a steady shower as the clock struck 11:00PM. The

vampire and his posse rose from their seats. Tyson casually brushed his hand across the blade in

the back of his jeans. Aerial uncrossed her legs, feeling the wooden stake shift in her left boot.

The siren waitress appeared from the back room, swinging her bag over her shoulder and taking

the hand of a trucker with whom she towed out with her, smiling. Tyson didn’t react: his job was

to eliminate supernatural evil, but he couldn’t stop people from making choices. Sensing trouble,

the demon woman who’d spent the evening eyeing Tyson decided to take off.

            The werewolf bartender was wiping down the counter. Aerial flicked her eyes to the

vampire gang. They were walking toward the door. Cleopatra-vamp tossed her a grin. Aerial

smiled back. Tyson sat up straighter.

            Just as they reached the door, one of the posse, a blonde vamp with a pink coat, grabbed a

logger from his table and snapped his neck. A waitress screamed. Tyson was on his feet. Before

Vampire Barbie could escape he threw his blade, landing it in the back of her head. She fell

heavy to the ground. The other vamps growled in fury. Humans started running around in a

panic. The werewolf bartender scurried out the back. Aerial strode through the mad haze toward

the vamps, ducking as one threw a punch. She punched him in the stomach, kicked him when he

hunched over in pain, and thrust a stake into his heart. Another vamp grabbed her and threw her

onto a table. She landed hard on her back.

            Rebounding from a blow, Tyson broke another vampire’s jaw with an upper cut. He

tripped him as the vampire reeled back, and staked him on the ground. Aerial kicked her vampire

in the face and shuffled off the table. The vampire staggered back from her roundhouse kick,

landing face-first on the edge of another table. Before she could finish him, head-honcho-

Cleopatra punched her. She stumbled to the side, caught off guard. He threw out another fist but

she grabbed it and snapped his arm hard on her knee. With an elbow to the face he fell back,

landing in a chair. Aerial ran for him, jumped, landed in his lap and thrust a stake through his

heart. The big guy wailed in agony.

            Not wanting to be left out of the rumble, the humans who were still alive took arms.

Gunfire blasted through the air. Tyson turned and saw one of them aim a rifle in Aerial’s

direction. “Aerial, down!” She turned at the sound of his voice. The man pulled the trigger.

Using the chair for support Aerial bent back and back-flipped onto her feet, narrowly escaping

the bullet. Spinning around she instantly spotted Mr. Rifle Man. Eyes wide, he dropped his

weapon and head for the door. Aerial grabbed him by the collar, spun him around, and broke his

nose with a sharp strike with base of her hand. He fell to the floor like a rag doll.

            Tyson punched the sunglasses-wearing vampire in the face. As he watched the

bloodsucker fall, a gunshot pierced the air. His body jerked. Pain blossomed in his left shoulder.

Aerial swivelled around and gawked at his bleeding shoulder. “Tyson!” Tyson stumbled, a stake

falling from his hand. Behind him one of the trucker’s approached, holding a stool high above

his head. Aerial bristled. “Duck!” Tyson nodded and bent over. Just before Stool Man reached

him Aerial ran, jumped and rolled over Tyson’s back onto her feet, wretched the stool from the

man’s hands and struck him with it. With him down she turned back to Tyson. While

acknowledging the bullet wound in his shoulder, she also noticed a deep slash in his left thigh;

blood had begun to bead through his jeans. She looked at him. “We gotta go.”

            He nodded again. “Sounds good.” While the bar fight took on a life of its own Aerial

threw Tyson’s arm over her shoulder and together they began to shimmy out of there. A vamp

came from the left just before they reached the door. Aerial had him on his rear end with a single

punch. At the same time Tyson bent down and yanked his knife out of the back of Barbie vamp’s

skull �" a hunter never leaves his weapons behind. When they stepped through the doorway

another vampire ran to attack. Tyson kicked him with his good leg and Aerial backhanded him

so hard he spun before hitting the ground.

            With the classic rock jamming, the gunfire blasting, and the left-over walking un-dead

roaring behind them, Tyson and Aerial stepped out into the rain. He was fading fast and his

weight was starting to give Aerial a cramp, but she kept on. When she opened the passenger side

door Tyson froze on the spot. “No, no, no. You sit here.”

            Aerial gaped at him. “Tyson you can’t drive!”

            “I’m fine, just get in.”

            She stared at him for a second. At last she sighed. Knowing an argument would be

pointless, she climbed into the passenger seat. Tyson handed her his blade, closed the door and

clambered in behind the wheel.

---

            The radio was playing a song Aerial didn’t recognize as the truck rumbled down the

highway. The rain was coming down hard and she prayed the old wind shield wipers wouldn’t

buckle on them. Tyson winced and she looked his way. He was resting his left hand on the

steering wheel, using the base of it to steer. He winced again when he shifted gears, his leg

burning as he pushed in the clutch.

            Aerial withdrew her eyes and stared straight out the windshield. “I could have driven.”

            “I don’t wanna fight.”

            “What are you talking ab- who said we were fighting? All I said was -”

            “No, I know what you said, just �" its fine.”

            Aerial sighed. “How’s your leg?”

            Reluctantly, Tyson snuck a quick look at his thigh. His jeans were damp with blood and

the wound itself, a gift given to him by one of those truckers striking him with a dagger, was

burning like Hell �" but he just nodded. “It’ll be alright.” He looked at her. “Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine. Sore but fine. No big.”

            “You’re not bleeding anywhere?”

            “Not that I know of.”

            Tyson nodded. “Good.”

            Once they got to his house Aerial helped him out of the truck and through the door. He

was limping now and a sweat had broken out on his face, his suddenly pale features glistening in

the night light. Aerial flicked a lamp on in the living room, breathing light into his cabin-like

home, and let him down on the couch. She carefully lifted his leg and set it on the coffee table.

He winced and she withdrew her hands. “You good?”

            “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks.”

            She nodded. “Sit tight. I’m gonna go grab some bandages. Take your shirt off.” She

walked away, knowing exactly where she needed to go. Tyson pulled himself up against the back

of the couch, his cheeks puffing out with short, weighted gasps. He tried to unbutton his shirt but

a shock of agony would soar down to his fingers from his left shoulder, and he had to stop. He

tried using his right hand but tapped out after two buttons. Aerial returned, holding a first aid kit

in her hands. “What’s wrong?”

            Tyson was quiet for a second. “I can’t do it. Look, just rip it off. Not like I’ll wear it

again with a hole in it.”          

            Without a word Aerial set the first aid kit down on the coffee table. She peeled off her

damp jacket, tossed it on the recliner in the corner, stepped over his perched leg and sat down

beside him, rifling through the first aid kit. Tyson was trying to breathe, his head hanging back.

Using some surgical scissors Aerial carefully cut a hole in his shirt, revealing the bleeding

wound. She cringed at the sight. There were some things she never got used to; she could

decapitate a supernatural freak without even blinking, but a bloody wound still made her feel

uneasy. She pulled at the shirt and with a gruff riipp, it fell into pieces in her hands. She threw

the strips on the carpet and Tyson shrugged off the rest. The sight cleared, Aerial examined the

wound. Dark crimson blood was trickling down his chest from the gaping hole. “Okay, okay,”

she said, gathering supplies. “Right. We gotta get the bullet out.”

            “Oh of course we do,” Tyson breathed.

            Aerial turned to him with a pair of pliers and a thick white cloth. She tried a helpful

smile. “This is gonna hurt.” Tyson nodded and sat up straight. Aerial waited for him to settle,

watching him take long, deep breaths.

At long last, he opened one eye and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

            With a deep breath Aerial slid the pliers into the wound. Tyson screamed and jerked

back. “You have to hold still!” she hissed.

            Tyson cried out. “You have freakin’ pliers in my shoulder for Christ’s sake! Oh God!”

            “Just keep still!” Without warning she dug the pliers in further. Tyson’s agony echoed to

high heaven. Aerial tried her best to ignore him, focussing on finding the bullet. The further she

dug the more blood spewed out; her hands were becoming slippery. Seconds later she felt the tip

of the pliers hit something. She exhaled with relief. “Okay I got it, I got it, here we go.”

            “Take it out, take it out!” Tyson gripped her thigh. She tensed, startled. He squeezed, his

knuckles white. Aerial tried to ignore the pain of his grip, manoeuvring the pliers inside the

wound to try and wedge the bullet out �" and then there it was, sliding right into the now blood-

drenched cloth. She sighed and swallowed.

“There we go. All done.”

            Tyson put his head back, panting. “Son of a b***h. That never gets easy.”

            “I know.” Without saying a word Aerial grabbed a bottle of iodine and poured it into the

wound. The scream that came from Tyson could have woken the dead.

            “What the hell is wrong with you?”

            “I have to disinfect it,” Aerial screamed back.

            Tyson cried out again as the iodine seeped into his wound. “Son of a b***h that burns!”

            “It’ll be over soon,” she said, dabbing the wound with a clean cloth. “God, you’re such a

freakin’ baby.” After a moment then, and some more screaming and cussing, the ordeal was

finally over. All fell silent. Tyson was resting, his face still pale and sweaty but scarce of any

sign of the pain from before. Aerial quietly began to stitch the wound closed, a talent drawn from

hand-sewing her clothes. Living life as a hunter didn’t mean a steady paycheque so she had to

maintain what she had until she could score another poker game or credit card scam. If she had it

her way she would have sewn the hole closed in Tyson’s shirt too. But that wasn’t her job

anymore, and the shirt was scraps now. Tyson didn’t flinch as the needle and thread moved

through his skin; he’d stitched himself up by his own hand many times before. Part and parcel of

the life.

When she was done Aerial proceeded to bandage the wound, the only sound in the room

being the soft strip of the surgical tape against the rhythmic hush of the showering rain outside.

She noticed Tyson still had his hand on her thigh but she didn’t say anything. At least he wasn’t

squeezing it. She knew she’d have a bruise tomorrow.

            Tyson lifted his head and looked at her. “You weren’t hurt?”

            Aerial didn’t lift her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t bleeding anywhere.”

            “Don’t gotta be bleeding to be hurt, Air.”

            She looked up. ‘Air’ was his nickname for her when... but she just shrugged. “My face

kinda hurts. A punch from a vampire is always more potent than one from a human. And my

back feels like its being thrown on a table repeatedly, but hey, I’ll be fine.”

            Tyson nodded. “You should rest.”

            “Not until you’re covered in white.” With one final piece of tape Aerial had finished

bandaging the bullet wound. She stroked it softly. “There. Now what else...” She looked over his

body, ignoring his own eyes watching her, and saw the slash in his thigh. She looked at him.

“Can you move it?”

            He tried to bend his leg, winced, and straightened it out again. “Nah, I gotta keep it

straight.”

            Aerial knew she’d regret her next words, but they had to be said. “You’ll have to take

your pants off.” When she met his eyes again Tyson was looking back at her with one eyebrow

arched. She did the same in retaliation. With a sigh he started unbuckling his belt. Aerial looked

away, hearing the sound of his zipper and the rustling of his jeans. Hearing the sound of struggle

made her look back at him and she saw he’d only gotten the jeans down as far as his knees.

            He looked at her, tossing hair out of his pained eyes. “I can’t bend my knee.”

            Though wanting to roll her eyes Aerial suppressed the urge and stood up. Leaning over

him she carefully pulled his jeans the rest of the way down, being cautious not to have him bend

his knee when she pulled them off the tips of his socks. Afterward she sat down again and peeled

his boxers back to reveal the entirety of the wound in his thigh. Though deep enough to bleed

through his jeans she couldn’t identify any serious muscle damage, and relief washed over her.

She reached for the iodine.

            Tyson saw red. “Whoa, hey, whoa!” She stopped. He shook his head. “Use a wipe or

something. I’m not going through that again.”

            Aerial shrugged. “I don’t have anything else.”

            Closing his eyes Tyson clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “Okay, fine, but put it on

a cloth or something. Don’t pour the damn stuff into the wound.”

            This time Aerial did roll her eyes. Without a word she poured some iodine onto a clean

white cloth. Tyson grabbed onto the cushion under him, groaning loud as she dabbed the open

wound. Again she ignored his protests, focusing on disinfecting the giant slash, and in only a

couple minutes the task was done. As Tyson lay back panting �" putting the stuff on a cloth didn’t

lessen the pain at all �" Aerial began to stitch the wound closed.

            Watching her work Tyson couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. He watched her hands,

her fingers, the way she so carefully stitched him back to health, and thought about all the times

he never actually noticed her hands before: how they fought, how they sewed, how they flipped

pages of books, how they held bottles, how they touched him. And her hair... God he missed the

feeling of her hair. The smell of it. Just like he thought in the bar, she was looking good for

living a life of hunting the unearthly big bad. Her eyes looked a little tired but he guessed

anyone’s would be with the things they’d seen.

            Aerial gently pat the bandage and looked up at him. “There. You’re all done.”

            Tyson smiled. “Thank you.” She smiled back but it was hollow, the kind of smile a

person uses when they don’t really have anything else to say. Flashing from outside, the

lightning filled the living room. Thunder’s low rumbling growled in the near distance. Neither of

them blinked.

            Gently then, very gently, Tyson put his hand on Aerial’s where it sat on his thigh. He

curled his fingers around hers and brought her hand up his stomach, up his chest. Aerial was

rigid, her eyes shifted away. She could hear her heart thudding in her ears. Tyson freed her hand

but she kept it where it was, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath her fingertips. His

heart rate was stable, calm. How could that be when hers was racing? She closed her eyes as he

slid his hand into her hair, shivering when he touched the back of her neck.

            Tyson turned her body and she followed. Lifting her chin with his finger he paused,

staring at her closed eyes, and kissed her. He felt her quiver. He kissed her more. Aerial sank into

him. Feeling his arm sweep under her she pulled herself up, her hair falling down around their

faces. Tyson moaned suddenly and she pulled back. “What is it?”

            He laughed a little. “You were on my arm.”

            “Oh. Oh God, I’m sorry.” She fell away from him, and then she put a finger to her lips,

horrified. She felt like she was choking. “Oh my God.”

            Tyson sighed. “Air, don’t. Don’t freak out.”

            She shook her head. “We can’t do this. I can’t... I have to go.” She was on her feet.

            In seconds Tyson grabbed her wrist. “You can’t go Aerial. Not now.”

            “I can’t stay here,” she said, her voice strained more with panic than the authoritative grit

she’d hoped for. “I’ll call Mike.”

            “Mike’s three cities over and you know it.” His eyes were so serious, so annoyingly

rational. “And even if he did come, it would take him all night to get through this weather to

you.”

            Aerial looked to the window. Another bolt of lightning cracked the sky, a jagged rift of

white hot energy; the gurgling growl of thunder swiftly followed. The rain seemed to be coming

down worse than before, an entire thick sheet of blue-white strobe lights touching down on the

earth. Her wrist fell limp in Tyson’s hand. “I can’t stay here.”

            “You can’t go.

            She looked at him. She sat back down. “We can’t do this.”

            “I know.” Tyson brought her foreword and they kissed. Careful not to land on his thigh

Aerial moved over him to his right side, his good side, and sank into him once again. Tyson

buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her shampoo mixed with rain water. He let her

go only to let her peel her shirt off, and then he pulled her back, losing himself in something he

really couldn’t have anymore.

---

            There’s something optimistic about a good storm. The next morning the world looks like

its new again, like it’s been cleansed in a fit of Mother Nature’s furious maid tactics. Though

sometimes she can lose control and turn an entire state upside down, most of her summer storms

rejuvenate the land. The thunderous shower is no more than delicate dew beading the grass and

trees, and this dew hangs loose from limbs and gutters, falling down periodically as if to a

soundtrack of nature; the sky is always a fresh bold shade of grey or even better, a bright blue.

It’s like someone wipes the slate clean to start again.           

            Aerial knew this theory wasn’t meant to be for her when she awoke, the bright sun

shining in on her through the window. On her body she had nothing but an old blanket where she

lay on the couch. She was alone, but before she could get up and look for him, she heard Tyson’s

voice coming from the kitchen.

            “Yeah... nah I’m okay Emma, really... just a couple of cuts and bruises... yeah I’m all

bandaged up, I look like a freakin’ mummy... Nah I’m kidding babe...”

            Aerial closed her eyes. That was it. That’s all she got for her clean slate. While the rest

of the world carried on refreshed and renewed, she simply remained: stuck in a loop.

Unfortunately, she expected nothing less, and with this in mind she pulled herself up, taking the

blanket with her. She felt so cold in the house; not wearing anything would do that, but this was

an unnatural cold that seemed to hit her very bones: the kind of cold one feels when they’re

alone. Balancing the blanket around her she started getting dressed, slipping on her rain-smell

clothes. She hated smelling like a wet dog. As she pulled her socks on she continued to listen to

Tyson speak on the phone: “Oh really?... No that’s fine... yeah I don’t have to work today, so

that’s, uh, yeah that’s perfect... okay... yeah of course... I’ll see you soon then. Love you too.

Bye.”

Aerial heard the beep of the ended call and pulled her shirt over her head. Tyson walked

in just as she put her right boot on. He was still limping but any sign of bleeding or sweaty pain

was gone. He had a thing for bouncing right back after he’d been down. She knew that.

            Tyson cleared his throat. “Uh, that was �"”

            “Emma. Yeah, I kinda got that.” She threw her jacket on. “She stoppin’ by?”

            “Yeah, she’s on her way right now actually. About five minutes.”

            Aerial nodded. “I best be going then.” She strode passed him for the door.

            Tyson sighed and started limping after her. “Air wait �"”      

            She spun around. “One, my name is Aerial. You can’t call me Air anymore. Two, we

don’t even have to talk about this ‘k? It happened and it’s over. That’s it.” Again she started for

the door.

            “No, Aerial, we do have to talk about this!” Aerial swung the door open but Tyson

slammed it closed. She turned to face him where he stood towering over her. “You’re not

walking out of here like last night was some sort of hallucination or something!”

            “Why? I left you once, I can do it again.”

            “You really believe that?”

            Aerial stared into his eyes. “Watch me.” Without another word she turned, wretched the

door open and stomped outside. Trying to stay calm Tyson followed, his leg beginning to throb

as he ambled down the few steps.

            “Aerial! Aerial, Jesus Christ just stop! How you gonna get home huh? Your car’s at the

bar!”

            Like a brilliant flash of colour in the mud and grime of the countryside, a little blue

Honda civic drove up the muddy driveway toward them. Aerial froze. Tyson did the same, his

mouth desert dry. The driver side door opened and Emma stepped out, all smiles. “Hey babe!”

            Tyson raised a hand. “Hey Em.”

            Aerial just stared. Emma started toward them, walking with her sweet little saunter. On

her slim figure she wore lace-up boots, a long blue plaid sundress, and a jean jacket, all topped

off with a dark indigo French beret from which under her long blonde hair hung swaying and

shining in the sun. She was always so fresh and feminine with her wardrobe �" the polar opposite

to Aerial’s nitty gritty tight jeans and leather jacket.

Still, Emma seemed delighted to see her. “Aerial! Oh my gosh, hey! I didn’t know you

were here!”

Aerial nodded. “How ya doin’ Emma?”

            “She was just leaving actually,” said Tyson. Aerial glared at him; he ignored her.

            “Well no worries.” Emma stood up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. Aerial

watched, stoic. “It’s good to see you,” the blonde cooed.

            “You, too Emma.” He tried to wrap his arms around her but his left shoulder pulled and

he winced.

            “Oh my god,” Emma gasped. “What’s wrong?” Before he could reply she pulled down

the neck of his shirt. Her eyes widened at the sight of the bandage there. Aerial looked away.

“What happened to you? You said you just had cuts and bruises! What kind of bruise is that?”

            Tyson cringed. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to worry you.”

            “Oh don’t be such a tool. What did you do to yourself this time?”

            This Aerial had to see. Tyson caught her eye and hesitated. She smiled wide. “Yeah,

Tyson,” she cooed. “What did you do to yourself?”

            Tyson looked at Emma. She was looking back at him, waiting. He flicked his eyes to

Aerial. She raised an eyebrow. Finally he looked at Emma again and opened his mouth.

“Fishing.”

            The girlfriend snickered. “Really.”

            “Yeah. Got the hook, uh, stuck. In me.”

            Aerial wanted to fall on the ground laughing but she simply stood by, watching all this

play out. Emma had a faraway look on her face. “You’re lying to me,” she said, her eyes narrow.

            Tyson played nonchalant. “Why would I lie to you?”

            “Because last time you managed to injure yourself you said it was fishing. And then you

told me you’d never go back to that lake again, remember?”

            He nodded slowly. “Right.” Of course the truth was he’d never go back to that lake again

because the spirit of a boy who’d drowned in the water lurked there and he’d almost died trying

to get rid of it �" fishing was just easier to say. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

            “So? What happened?”

            Watching him, Aerial could tell Tyson was pulling for another lie. With a low sigh she

dropped her arms and decided to play hero just this once. “Cooking competition.”

            The blonde turned to her. “A what?”

            Though she could read the same confusion on Tyson’s face Aerial rolled with it. “Yeah.

Uh, Tyson and I participated in this cook-off at the bar. They have them sometimes you know?

Let the customers cook and the best meal gets served to everyone. We were in the kitchen and

Tyson was holding a knife and I, uh, I was rushing around to get ingredients, and I ran into him.

Silly guy had the blade pointed up and he stabbed himself in the shoulder. He was hunched down

cutting onions so it was, uh, within close... proximity.”

            The girlfriend was quiet, and then she laughed a little. She flicked her eyes to Tyson. “Is

this true Ty?”

            Aerial tensed when she heard the nickname she had for him when... but Tyson just

shrugged. “Yeah. That’s... that’s the undeniable truth.”

            Emma started laughing. “My God, that’s awful! Hilarious but awful! Wow, what are the

chances?” Her laughing became hysterical, her whole body shaking - and then she straightened,

like someone put an electric current through her. “But wait, what about your leg? You told me

you hurt your leg, too.”

“Oh, ran into the edge of a stove,” Tyson replied, running with Aerial’s lie. “You know.

It was hectic in the kitchen. Accidents were bound to happen.”

 The girlfriend giggled a little more. “You’re such a klutz babe.”

            “I know, I know. Can’t take me anywhere.”

            “Well I got just the cure for that then.” She snuggled up against him. Aerial looked away.

“I got some news for you...” she heard her sing surreptitiously.

            Tyson raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

            “Mmmhmm. I have my exams at the end of the week but then after that I got a lovely two

weeks off. No homework, no stuffy university professors - no stress.”

            “Wow...”

            “Yeah, so I was thinking I could stay here with you. We could hang out, maybe catch a

few movies, cook some dinner? Well, I could cook some dinner: you’re the last person who

should be in the kitchen, apparently...”

            While they chatted Aerial had turned away, the sound of their voices nothing more than

buzzing in her ears. She felt like if she took a step she’d sink into the ground and never resurface.

All she wanted to do was run, but for some reason she was frozen to the spot.

            The girlfriend was still going. “... and then we could check out a few bars, go out

dancing?”

            “Yeah,” Tyson said. “That sounds great babe.”

            Emma grinned. “Awesome! Well hey, I brought some of my stuff here already. I guess

I’ll go put it away...” Aerial closed her eyes tight. She’d already seen Emma’s shampoo, some

make-up, and her tampons in the bathroom when she’d grabbed the first aid kit. If she’d been to

the bedroom she imagined she would have found half the closet filled with her clothes, too. She

could hear Emma sauntering toward her so she turned around and put a smile on. The girlfriend

touched her arm. “It’s good to see you again Aerial, really. You’re hard to come by.”

            Not knowing how to respond Aerial simply smiled and nodded. Emma sauntered to her

car, her keys dangling from her fingers. Once she opened the trunk and was hidden from them

Aerial turned back to Tyson. “I’ll go. Looks like you got yourself a fine couple of weeks

planned.”

            Tyson took her elbow. “Aerial, wait. Look, at the very least let me drive you back to the

bar. You don’t have a ride and I don’t want you hitching one with a werewolf again.”

            “That was one time,” Aerial hissed. She took a moment and then sighed. “Fine. Fine!

Let’s go.” As she started toward his truck, her shoulders uncharacteristically slumped and her

boots making squishing sounds in the wet mud, Tyson limped over to his girlfriend.

            “Hey Em?”

            “Oh hey,” she said, heaving another case out of the trunk. “Oh no, you don’t have to help

me. Go rest.”

            “Uh, no that’s not it. I’m just gonna give Aerial here a ride back to where she’s gotta be.”

            Emma straightened. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something, but

then she just smiled. “Yeah. Okay.”

            “Okay.” He kissed the side of her head and turned away. Suddenly Emma took his hand.

Tyson turned back. She was looking up at him with her big blue eyes; looking back into them he

thought he saw tears, but he wasn’t sure.

            She smiled. “I’ve really missed you Ty.”

            Tyson was rendered speechless. Was that worry he heard in her voice, or simple

sincerity? Not knowing what to do, he simply nodded and said, “Yeah Em. Me, too.” She smiled

again and let go of his hand. Tyson smiled back, turned, and limped toward his truck. Aerial was

already sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window.

 

            Aerial was out the door before Tyson even cut the engine. The bar was nothing more than

a busted shack now: the windows were broken and the wood of the structure had splintered and

collapsed, leaving only jagged strays strewn about the ground amongst flecks of glass. Blood

splatter scattered the dirt like some demon child’s painting lesson. Aerial spotted her car, her

shiny red Charger parked the furthest away from the crippled little building, and head straight for

it.

            Closing the door behind him Tyson started following her, his leg burning like last night

again. “Look Aerial, I’m not going to force anything out of you, but I won’t let you leave like

this.”

            “Like I said Tyson: I’ve done it before.” Aerial fingered her jeans for her keys and pulled

them out swinging. Just when she reached the driver side door Tyson grabbed her arm and turned

her around.

            “That was then. This is now.”

            Aerial wretched her arm free. “What do you want me to say Tyson? Even if we do talk

about what happened last night, what then? What good will it do when you go back to her and I

go back to Mike? At least Mike knows what I do �" does Emma know you behead vampires and

kill demons for a living?”

            “I lie to keep her safe. I’m not the only one who does it; there are tons of other hunters

whose entire families are in the dark because if they knew the truth, they’d find death on their

doorstep a lot sooner than they expected.”

“Right, cause people are always better off with lies.”

“At least she doesn’t run away from me like you do! And this isn’t even about her - this

is about last night.”

Aerial shrugged. “Nothing happened last night.”

“Oh is that right?” Tyson chuckled. “So that’s how it’s gonna be then? Wow, talk about
lies...”

“Look, there’s nothing we can do from here on Tyson! Nothing! There is never a follow-

up to these things, they just... happen, and that’s the end of it.”

“And that’s better for you? You wash your hands of this and that’s it?”

            Aerial was starting to lose patience. “I’m just saying sharing our feelings and having a

little moment isn’t gonna change dick alright?” With that she spun back to her car.

            Watching her slip the key into the lock, Tyson decided to forfeit. If anything his leg was

hurting so bad he wasn’t sure he was going to make the drive home without bursting a stitch - so

he let her go. “Fine. We just go our separate ways again. Like this really didn’t happen.”

             Aerial put her head back and sighed. She leaned on the open door for a moment,

completely silent. Finally, she turned around. Her cheeks were growing hot and she could feel

her eyes welling up, but she forced the tears back. “She calls you Ty. You used to get mad at

anyone who called you that except for me. You actually got mad. Only Aerial’s allowed to call

me Ty.” She shrugged. “And now she has her tampons in your bathroom. And she uses the same

brand, too. I guess us gals have something in common after all huh?”

Tyson stared back at her. There were so many things he wanted to say but for some

reason, at that moment, he lost his voice.

            Aerial shrugged again and shook her head. “We... we can’t be together Tyler. Sorry.” She

ducked into her car and started the ignition. The Charger rumbled to life and she pulled out,

Tyson watching as she turned onto the highway and drove off.

---

            Aerial was beginning to think Mother Nature hated her: the rain had started again. She

watched the crying sky from where she was sat on the windowsill in her motel room, her back

cold against the wall. In her hand she held her cell phone; every few moments she would go

through the same ritual: dial a number, hang up, deliberate, and forget about it. For how long had

she been doing this tonight? Minutes? Hours? She’d driven into the parking lot of this junk place

after turning off the highway, checked in, took a much-needed shower, put some cream on her

sore back, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and sat on the windowsill. Every task had felt like

forever; the clock on the wall had to be broken.

            At last Aerial dialled the same number again and listened to the dial tone. After five rings

she hit voicemail: Hey, you’ve reached Mike Johnson. I’m not here right now so leave me a

message. If it’s an emergency call again. If I still don’t answer I’m most likely dead so call my

girl Aerial. Thanks.

            The beep sounded and Aerial lost her voice. She opened her mouth, couldn’t speak,

closed it and hung up. With a sigh she put her head back, this endless night wearing her down.

Her back began to ache again so she eased herself up to stretch, and gasped when her phone

started ringing. She picked up right away. “Hello?”

            “Aerial? Did you call?”

            She smiled. “Mike. Yeah, sorry. I must’ve... lost you in the rain.”

            “Oh yeah, it is stormy over there? Downer. Everything okay?”

            Aerial eased onto the windowsill again, her back throbbing. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s

fine. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

            “Aww, I miss you too Ellie.” His nickname for her did nothing for her this time, even if

she’d usually get a sweet little feeling when she heard it. “But I’m done here so I’ll be heading

back down that way anyway.”

            “You took care of the prison?” Just like that she was in work mode. She knew Mike was

working on closing down an old abandoned prison building three cities over. Demons had

adopted the decrepit place to hold their enemies hostage for torture and execution �" such

activities being ‘fun’ for them.

            “Shut it down for good,” Mike said, pride audible in his voice. “Salted and burned it to

the ground.”

            “That’s awesome.”

            “What about you? How’d the vampire brawl go down?”

            Aerial hesitated. “Good, yeah. Um, I did what I could but I had to get outta there fast.”

            “Did you get hurt?”

            “Just a little sore, but I’m alright. Besides, there were more hunters there anyway. Even

some bystanders got in on the fun.”

            “Ugh, that’s never a good sign. Well, as long as you’re safe.” He paused. “My God Ellie,

we’ve both seen so many people die. We try to save them, of course, but it’s just the way things

are in this life you know? Sometimes you’re just too late, but if I ever lost you?... I can’t even

begin to imagine what I’d do. What I’d become capable of.”

            Aerial smiled. “Just promise you wouldn’t try to bring me back to life.”

            “As long as you promise to stay with me in this one?”

            She chose to believe the pain in her back made her tear up then. “Always.”

“That’s my girl. But hey Ellie, I’m sorry I gotta cut this short but I got a lotta driving

ahead of me so I’m gonna take off okay? I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

            “Okay, yeah, for sure. Drive safe and get some rest.”

            “You, too. Take care babe.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I love you.”                

            Aerial felt so cold. “I love you, too.” She hung up. She pictured Mike driving home from

another successful hunt: he’d be wearing his work boots, his black jeans - probably stained with

blood and guck �" and one of his earth-tone shirts, either a dark blue or a forest green colour

under his faded army jacket. His face would be tired and his green eyes droopy; his sandy hair

would be tousled and maybe dirty from a fight, but in the end he’d still be smiling because he

would be on his way back to her. Always on his way back to her.

            Aerial put her head on her knees.

 

            Tyson winced as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His leg had reached pain of the

previous night, and his shoulder wasn’t doing any better. A few of his hunting buddies had called

to ask if he wanted to join them on a demon trail but he had to refuse. It didn’t matter if he was

just as down for a hunt as the next guy: his body was screaming otherwise and he had to listen.

            Limping into the living room with a cold one in his hand, Tyson spotted out of the corner

of his eye Emma’s jean jacket tossed on the recliner. She’d taken it off when she started getting

too warm from going up and down the stairs with her stuff. She’d stayed for dinner �" a dinner

she cooked �" but she had to leave again when the rain returned. “As much as I hate to go I have

to get out of here before it gets worse,” she’d told him, pouting. “And I gotta get in some study

time. My exams await.” And then she left, destined to return after her exams for two weeks of

quality boyfriend/ girlfriend time.

            Thinking about her now Tyson felt hollow, a feeling he was sure he shouldn’t be having

about his girlfriend. Even the blazing fireplace couldn’t make him feel any warmer, any more

self-assured.

            Staring into the brilliant red and orange flames he thought about him and Aerial. Every

time he was with her he felt a fire on both sides of the coin: a fire out of being frustrated with her

always being so damn stubborn, but also a fire out of the way she touched him, the sound of her

voice, and how sometimes with just one look, she could see right through him. It was like they

couldn’t have one without the other, like maybe they were too in tuned with one another. But of

course that’s probably why Aerial left. Tyson was her mirror, and his hers. It’s easier to run from

the reflection than to face it, and life is hard enough.

            Tyson sighed and put his head back. Just as he closed his eyes, a pounding on the door

startled him awake. The knocking was panicked, urgent. He pushed himself to his feet, a shock

of pain screaming down his leg. The knocking hastened. “Okay, okay, hold on!” He limped over,

unlocked the door, and pulled it open. The rain whispered in on him and his heart stopped.

            Aerial stood there, panting and leaning on the door pane with one hand. She was

drenched from head to toe. She shook her head. “He’s so good to me you know? He’s everything

I should need. So then why is it, when I think of him, I only see you?”

            Tyson stared at her. “No, Aerial. No.” With his right arm he swept her inside and straight

into his arms.

 

            Lying on top of Tyson on the couch with a towel wrapped around them, Aerial had never

felt so warm. As she watched the fire, he played with her hair, secretly loving the smell of rain in

it �" the same smell from the night before. “Why did you walk out on me?” he asked.

            Aerial frowned. “The first time or -”

            “Yeah. The first time. Over a year ago. Why did you walk out on us after four years?”

            She curled her fingers on his shirt, staring into the flames. “Because I was scared.”

            “Of what? Air, we hunt monsters for a living �" what’s as scary as that?”

            She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... I’d never had anything like you in my life before. I

figured by leaving you, I could protect you in some way. Protect myself.”

            Tyson brought his face close to her head, smelling her hair. “Well, either way... I never

left you.” He felt her tear warm on his shirt. “We were it Aerial. We’re still it. And we always

will be. You and me.”

            Aerial lifted her head and looked at him. She looked at that man who’d sped through five

cities in one night to come for her when a demon had her strung up in a crypt, looked at that man

who showed her how to properly fire a gun, looked at that man who would leave on a job but

still always come back, and then he’d hold her and she’d ask how his hunt went and he’d say It

doesn’t matter Air, it doesn’t matter. He was the axis her world spun on - and she hated that

more than anything.

            “So...” She rearranged herself, angling her body as to not hurt the left side of his. “What

happens now?”

            Tyson looked back at her.

---

            The next morning, from out of nowhere, the sun came. Beating out the competition of the

wild showers from the past two days, the giant ball in the sky blazed hot as Tyson peeled off his

jacket and tossed it on the hood. He was leaning against the front of his truck, legs crossed before

him, cell phone in hand. He was positioned directly in the middle of a crossroads. If one wasn’t

going straight through here, one only had two choices left. Tyson made his - now he was waiting

for Aerial to make hers. With a curt sigh he checked the time on his phone.

            7:45AM.

 

            Aerial had been driving all night and when she pulled into the motel parking lot, she’d

never felt a heavier weight on her shoulders. Cutting the engine she sank into her seat and let out

a long calming breath. If he didn’t hear her car he’d be awake soon anyway to keep on driving

back to her �" except this time, she went to him.

            Unease spinning her stomach, Aerial glanced at her cell phone where she had it sitting in

the ashtray.

            7:51AM.

            She pictured Tyson waiting, possibly replaying the same words in his head that she was

right now:

            Park at the crossroads and wait for me. If I’m not there at 8:00AM sharp, it means

I’ve decided to stay.

            And if you make it before 8:00AM... we’ll go. You and me.

            Staring out the window with her hand in her hair, Aerial considered turning around. It

would only be a few miles, getting to him. She tried to imagine herself actually doing it: starting

the ignition, pulling out of the parking space, turning onto the highway, driving down the road,

trying to breathe and steady her heart, seeing Tyson waiting for her, feeling a slight twinge of

relief, parking her car in the bushes somewhere, walking up to him and trying to smile, watching

him do the same thing, letting him take her hand and help her into the car, watching him climb

into the driver seat, start the engine and drive away from everything �"

            Aerial shook herself clear. Again she checked the time.

            7:54AM

             Lifting her eyes she watched then, awe-struck, as one of the motel room doors opened

and Mike stepped into the sunlight. She wanted to cry. He shielded his eyes from the blaring sun,

his hair a-mess. She heard him through her rolled down window.

             “Aerial?”

            Scrambling to unlock the door, she bolted out of the car and ran for him. H teetered back

a little when she flew into his arms.

            “Aerial! What the �" oh my God, what’re you doing here?”

            She squeezed him tight. “I love you, you know that? I really love you.”

            Mike shook his head. “Ellie, my God, I love you too, but wha- you came all the way

down here! What’s up? Is everything okay? How did you even find me?”

            Aerial pulled away and smiled. “GPS on your phone. I wanted to come to you this time.”

Again she wrapped her arms around him and felt him do the same, felt his breath in her hair.

            “Ellie, is everything okay? You’re starting to wig me out a little here.”

            “Yeah. Yeah. Everything’s perfect.” She looked him in the eyes, stroking his bed-head

hair. “I don’t want us to hunt separately anymore, okay? I don’t want you three cities away from

me. We’ll hunt together. Okay?”       

            “Yeah, yeah, sure. We’ll hunt together. You know it.” Mike tucked a hair behind her ear.

She turned toward his touch.

 

            8:01AM.

            Tyson sighed. He looked out at the long highway ahead of him, just once more �" but he

saw nothing but endless road and dirt baking under the sun. Nothing but barren land and gravel

for miles. It was only then that he nodded, grabbed his jacket, slipped in behind the wheel,

started the ignition and drove back the way he came.