Walking through the long corridors of the airport, he led her to the next hall, where around a hundred humans were slaughtering one another.
Repeating the process, she sent out her seven daggers, killing as many people as possible before retrieving their hearts.
Alan was leaning against the wall, smoking yet another cigarette.
« This isn't even fun. »
« What did you expect? These men are desperate, broken. Maybe what you're doing is simply giving them the freedom they so desperately want. »
« Maybe. Let's move on to the next one. »
Zone after zone, she went on, killing around three hundred people, feeling a little stronger, but nothing more. She could barely control eight daggers now.
« We've cleared all the zones. »
« That's it? You told me there were a thousand people. »
« Yeah, normally. But you let a lot of them escape. As for the rest, I don't know. »
Yumiel grabbed her walkie-talkie.
« Kshhh. Jack, how much longer? »
She waited a moment before Jack answered.
« Kshhh. Hard to say. Something like just under an hour. »
Yumiel simply put the walkie-talkie away. Alan, who had been listening to the exchange, asked a question.
« What's your partner fixing? »
Yumiel tried to remember.
« I think it's a Falcon. Something like that. »
« A Falcon, huh. Those planes are demanding. »
He pulled out a cigarette, then his lighter, and lit it.
« Demanding? Can you fly it? »
« Fsshh… Ffff… there's no plane I can't fly. »
« BOOOOM. »
A massive explosion echoed from the other end of the airport. Exchanging a glance with Alan, he understood instantly, tossing his cigarette away and running with Yumiel toward the other end of the airport.
« Whoa, wait, wait, you're running too fast. »
Yumiel was almost three times faster than him; she eventually grabbed him and threw him onto her back.
« Do you often kidnap people? »
« Only the ones who don't behave. »
Alan let out a small laugh. They didn't take long to reach the site of the explosion. In front of them was a rather large hole in the wall.
Outside, they could see two men fighting to the death. Yumiel recognized one of the men hiding behind the wall.
« Oh fuck no, not him. Anyone but him. »
Alan, surprised by Yumiel's reaction, hid as well.
« Someone you know? »
« To my greatest misfortune, yes. »
She picked up her radio and contacted Jack.
« Kshhh. Jack, you're going to have to hurry if you don't want to end up like last time, without a body, just your head. »
« Kshhh. No, don't tell me. »
Yumiel glanced over to see the man fighting the dead hunter, his head rolling on the ground.
« Kshhh. Yes, Jack, it's him. We're coming to you right now, so hurry! »
« What's so scary about him? »
Yumiel grabbed Alan and started heading back the way they came.
« It's better if you don't know. »
The broken wall was far behind Yumiel now, but still visible. They were in the departure check-in hall.
Suddenly, a disk sliced through the hall, barely missing Yumiel and Alan.
« Fuck, what was that?! »
« Looks like his instincts are still just as sharp. »
She ran without looking back, as fast as she could. Quickly reaching the other side of the airport, she leapt through one of the windows. Landing outside, near the runways, she opened her senses to the maximum, checking that he hadn't followed them.
After a few moments, she detected nothing and relaxed. Alan climbed off her back, grabbed his cigarette pack, took out his lighter, and lit a smoke.
« You're going to end up dead at the rate you smoke. »
« Fssshhh… Ffff… that wouldn't be so bad. So, I guess we're joining your partner—where is he? »
Yumiel looked around but had trouble orienting herself, trying to remember the direction.
Alan stepped closer, took Yumiel's walkie-talkie, and spoke into it.
« Kshhh. Hello, pilot here. Your partner's lost. Which hangar are you at? »
« Kshhh. You've got to be kidding me. I'll make her a GPS. I'm at hangar eight, VIP section. »
Alan handed the walkie-talkie back to Yumiel, who slipped it into her pocket.
« Wow, you don't hesitate at all. »
« It's fine. In Africa, if you hesitated, the whole team died. Anyway, mess aside, your hangar's on the other side—where your great buddy is. »
She stepped aside slightly, thinking. Then she returned to Alan.
« We have three options: go back the way we came, go around on the right, or on the left. So we have a one-in-three chance of running into him. »
« Yeah. »
« Let's go left. »
Alan didn't ask any questions, tossing his cigarette to the ground and climbing back onto Yumiel's back. She ran as fast as she could, circling the airport on the left. Along the way, everything went smoothly; they ran into no one, except for a few bodies and destroyed or grounded planes.
Off to the side, they could see numerous hangars set apart from the others, each with large numbers painted on top. They reached the intersection leading to the other side of the airport.
As Yumiel turned out of the intersection, she glanced to the right and saw hangar eight in the distance—and right in front of the hole from earlier, the hunter.
He hadn't moved at all, waiting patiently.
« Looks like your friend played us good. »
Yumiel threw Alan several meters away, tossing her canteen to him as well.
« Alan, run to the hangar and pour this on the ground. »
The hunter was already charging toward Yumiel. She sent her daggers to hold him back. Alan looked at the scene, then grabbed the canteen and started running.
The hunter moved to change direction and chase Alan, but Yumiel anticipated it, placing her daggers behind Alan to protect him. She was defenseless now, and the hunter saw it clearly.
He rushed at her. She recalled her daggers, but she was slower than the hunter, ending up in close combat.
Yumiel wasn't weak in close combat, but controlling her blood while fighting hand-to-hand was too difficult—almost impossible for her at the moment.
She opened her senses to the maximum, bracing for the hunter's impact. She dodged most of his attacks, but her daggers were returning too slowly.
The hunter began to gain the upper hand, striking Yumiel in the left side, then in the face. Yumiel's daggers returned just in time, lunging at the hunter, who shattered a few before pulling away from her.
Yumiel's body was badly injured. If her suit were removed, you could see knife marks carved into her flesh. She recreated the shattered daggers from the ground and took a defensive stance, waiting for Alan to reach the hangar.
« You know, I get the feeling you're even stronger than last time—and I'm the monster? What a joke. »
The hunter lowered his hat slightly, shadowing his gaze.
« I'm delighted to see you again, little vampire, because this time you won't escape. »
Running forward, he hurled two disks that she dodged, then pulled out a whip that cracked against the ground and split the air, aiming for Yumiel's feet. She jumped to evade it, and he drew his pistol.
Yumiel created a wall in front of her, but the bullets passed straight through. She placed her daggers in front of her—one protecting her heart, the other her head.
The bullets tore through her flesh, exiting the other side, her regeneration already closing the wounds. Falling to the ground, the hunter caught her and slammed her down.
Yumiel raised her guard and transformed her wall and daggers into an anvil, dropping it onto the hunter. When he turned around, it was too late—the anvil struck him, forcing him to block with both arms.
Yumiel lay on the ground, having just been beaten brutally. Yet she was still fully conscious, drawing blood from her body and creating a sword that she plunged into the hunter's back.
He saw the attack out of the corner of his eye and dodged—but too late. One of the arms holding the anvil was pierced. She turned the anvil into a dagger and reabsorbed the sword she had created.
They each stepped back a few paces.
« New tricks, huh? »
Yumiel watched the hunter's wound heal on its own, without him using his strange syringes.
« Those too—new. »
She was at a disadvantage; she knew it. She had shown almost all her cards, while he hadn't.
« Or we could each go our separate ways? »
He grabbed his pistol and fired at her. She dodged, then saw two disks flying toward her, which she avoided with inhuman agility.
She began to feel slight headaches from having her senses pushed to the limit. She wouldn't be able to hold on forever—she knew it.
She focused, trying to feel her blood toward the hangar, but in vain.
The hunter didn't give her time to breathe, advancing toward her with whip in one hand and pistol in the other, firing and trying to snare her with the whip.
She dodged the whip and the bullets, counterattacking with her daggers, whipping them away or shooting them—but no sooner were they destroyed than they rebuilt themselves.
He struggled to keep up. The daggers drew closer and closer, finally cutting him—first shallow, then deeper and deeper.
Cornered, and probably angered by the situation, he pulled out a syringe and injected himself. Yumiel tried to stop him, but failed.
The moment the syringe entered his system, he charged at her with inhuman speed, destroying daggers in his path.
Caught off guard, she jumped backward to create distance—but he snapped out his whip, catching her and slamming her with extreme violence, then pulled out his pistol, aiming for her head.
She dodged at the last second, then recalled her daggers to stab him, forcing him to retreat.
Suddenly, she felt her blood toward the hangar. She transformed her daggers into blood, spreading it beneath her feet, connecting both ends, and said:
« Until next time—though I'd rather never. »
With those words, she vanished before the hunter's eyes, emerging on the other side of the blood pool inside the hangar.