Gallery of the Dead

Seventy-Five

As Hunter rolled onto his back, Tracy lay motionless, her breathing labored, her whole body glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling in a crazy rhythm, as if she was hyperventilating.

‘Oh my God,’ she said, once she had finally caught her breath. ‘I think I need a cigarette.’

Hunter turned his head to look at her.

‘You don’t smoke.’

‘After this, I might have to take it up.’

They both laughed.

‘I wouldn’t mind a drink of water either,’ Tracy said. ‘Followed by a real drink.’

‘That would actually be quite nice,’ Hunter agreed.

‘I’ll get us one,’ Tracy added. ‘As soon as my legs stop shaking.’

More laughter.

Tracy did get them a drink, eventually, before they made love again... then again... then again.

As they lay side by side, literally too exhausted to move, Tracy smiled to herself.

‘Do you know what the most incredible thing about tonight has been?’ She quickly paused and corrected herself. ‘I mean, second most incredible thing.’

‘What was that?’ Hunter asked.

‘Your phone hasn’t rung. Not once.’

‘Unless we get a new victim,’ Hunter said, clasping his hands behind his neck, ‘there’s no reason for a phone call.’

Regardless of how intrigued she was, Tracy stayed quiet. All she did was look back at him with interest. She knew that if Hunter wanted to talk, he would talk.

‘We’re all stuck,’ Hunter continued. ‘The entire investigation is stuck. The FBI, us, forensics... we really have nowhere to go at the moment.’

Tracy rolled her body on her side, placed her elbow on the bed and rested her head on her knuckles. Her eyes were still firmly on Hunter.

His stayed on the ceiling.

‘Which is a horrible feeling,’ he said, and though it looked like he was about to tell her a lot more, he didn’t.

Tracy maintained her silence. Hunter’s profession wasn’t one that would benefit from positive-thinking comments like, ‘I’m sure you’ll get him in the end,’ or ‘You can do this. Believe in yourself.’

The reason Hunter had opened up to her, even if it had been just a couple of sentences, was because he felt the need to let off some steam, not because he was looking for comfort or reassurance. Tracy knew that very well. She was also very sure that Hunter knew if he ever wanted to talk, she would be right there.

When Hunter had gone quiet for long enough, she knew that that conversation was over.

‘I don’t suppose you’re free sometime tomorrow, are you?’ she asked.

‘Possibly. Why?’

Tracy scooted over and rested her head on Hunter’s chest. ‘I think I’ve mentioned this to you before, but for one week only, the owners of the two biggest comic-book stores in the US are opening the doors to their private collections. Between them, they’ve got some of the rarest comic books ever written. I know that comics probably aren’t your thing, but I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? Tomorrow is the last day.’

‘I didn’t know that you were into comic books,’ Hunter said.

‘I’m not a collector or anything, but I really do appreciate the art, the creativity and the imagination that is put into them. Plus, this really is a rare opportunity.’ She pulled back from Hunter, rolled over on her stomach and held herself up on her elbows. ‘C’mon, it could be fun. We don’t have to stay long.’ The mischievous smile was back. ‘We could come back here.’

‘I used to read a lot of comic books when I was younger,’ Hunter revealed. ‘A lot younger.’

‘Really?’

Hunter nodded. ‘I even had a favorite comic.’

‘And which one was that?’

‘Not a very well-known one, I’m afraid — Morbius.’

‘What?’ Tracy’s head kicked back. ‘The Living Vampire?’

Hunter’s surprise was genuine. ‘OK, I’m officially impressed now.’

‘If you’re into a comic like Morbius,’ Tracy said, excitement lifting her voice, ‘then you have to come.’

Hunter knew Tracy was right. It probably would be fun.

‘Sure. Why not?’ he agreed. ‘What time do you have in mind?’

‘Well, I have a lecture tomorrow at ten in the morning. After that I’m free, but I’d like to re-dye my hair if possible. My roots are starting to show.’ She tilted her head down a touch to prove her point.

Hunter froze.

Sometimes... no, make that ‘most times’, not even Hunter was able to explain how his thought process worked. Things just suddenly came to him. His brain would establish the most obscure connections, triggered by words, or images, or sounds, or whatever he had come across. Right then, in bed with Tracy, Hunter had just had one of those moments.

‘Holy shit.’

Tracy looked back at him in horror.

‘Are my roots that bad?’

Hunter jumped out of bed and began getting dressed as quickly as he could.

‘Holy shit,’ he said again, before rushing out of Tracy’s apartment.