Chapter 92 - But I'm Already Here

After Qing Chen left, Wuming was yet alone in his mind. He had been feeling restless lately. Like he was a compressed spring. There he was again with his sleepless nights. All these things about The Zookeeper was keeping the gears in his head turning. His muscles were begging to be used—to do something.

He could not help but feel like they were sitting ducks with everything that was happening. There was still nothing with whereabouts of The Zookeeper. The Koala had been right, they were not going to find him. Not like this. But all they could do was wait for another note to show up as the other two lead to nowhere.

Wuming badly wanted to go back to the North and scour evry corner of it until he finds this man. He missed his house. He missed the fresh air and the sound of the trees swaying, the smell of the earth and how soft they felt under his feet.

If he was not shooting at zombies on a videogame, he was mainly in the bas.e.m.e.nt, practicing his aim and keeping his body moving. The thud knives at the targets and the echoes of his fists on a punching bag keeping him company.

But tonight, he was aimlessly driving around, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He had turned on the radio but didn't like what he was hearing. He was never a fan of modern music, anyway.

He was thinking about that bloodless kill they did earlier. There were times that he had been kind to his targets and let them drink poison—but he could never imagine doing that to himself. If you drink poison, you would feel every second of your death. It would run through your veins and you would feel it take over your body like it was no longer yours.

If he could choose a way to die, Wuming would take a bullet to the head than anything else. Or to the heart because he had a handsome face to be destroyed like that. He would like it to be done from afar. No more talking. Just death. Like one moment he was thinking, and the next there was just nothing.

He had never wanted to be one to be prepared for death. Because to be prepared for death meant that you wholly accept that you are going to die that day. 

When Wuming looked up at the sign to look where he was, he found himself on his way to Camille's house. He rubbed his hands on the rubber, his heart beating slow and hard all of a sudden.

He had been meaning to see her ever since he got back from the abandoned zoo. But not unless they already had The Zookeeper off their backs, unfortunately he could not really put her in danger. Their father told Qing Lok that he should stay away from women because they didn't need more lives to protect and save.

Wuming knew his father had never seen him as the dating type. He was never interested in that in the first place. But that rule applied to him as well.

Wuming parked near a convenience store and bought a strawberry juice. He was about to get back in the car but thought against it. He started walking the sloping ground of the neighborhood. It didn't take long for him to see the little house at the edge.

He looked around and decided to jump off the road and made his way from there. When he got closer, he found a tree that looked easy to climb. Finally, he was perched against a thick branch.

The house had warm lights. The grandmother should be cooking dinner by this time. Everything looked just the same when he last saw it. But importantly, Camille was there on the grass, her head tilted up to the moon.

It made Wuming smile. He only meant to take a look at her and he would leave, but he found himself sitting down, just watching her. She was wearing a white shirt and shorrts that reached her knees. Her face white and shining under the moonlight. 

He recalled their conversation when she said that the sky must be miserable that it had to deal with him. Wuming shook his head. "But look at you now, huh?" he squeezed on the juice box for the remains. 

It had been weeks since he last saw her. True, it was not the best day in his life, but he sure did have a lot of fun answering her seemingly never ending questions. He didn't even know why he invited her in the first place, but there was something in her eyes that night that he wanted to see more.

She was so doubtful of him. Wuming's heart sank a little because he realized that no matter how much of an ass he was that night, he wanted to prove something to her—that he was a good person regardless of what he does in his life, that he could be trustworthy, and that he could be true. She was hesitant but she came anyway. A stranger trusted him. That should count for something, right?

Wuming heard an indecipherable sound and he felt warm on the inside to hear that it was the grandmother's voice. Camille looked back and said, "I'm coming!"

Wuming stood up, disappointed that it was now all over. But Camille didn't get up immediately, she looked at the moon. He wondered what she was thinking—what she was saying to it with her mind. Then her head slowly drifted to their small gate and his heart leaped.

He chuckled. "What is that, Princess? Are you waiting for me to show-up?" He leaned against the tree and sighed. "But I'm already here."

In his mind, the thought of ringing that doorbell crossed. His hand on the branch tightened and it brought him right back. No, I can't. Not now.

It looked like Camille's body was not entirely agreeing of her leaving, but she pulled herself up and went inside the house.

"Ah!" he groaned. We really need to finish this already. He took a look back at the house. "I'll see you soon. For real."