Dusk laid low in one of his favorite hangouts. Morty’s Pub was the spot, a misbegotten place for lushes and gamblers. He stayed sitting at the bar drowning himself in a lukewarm beer.

At almost midnight the same drink still lingered in his hand. The bar keep would have thrown him out, but the man remembered what happened the last time someone got in Dusk’s face.

“Hey, buddy, you gotta finish that?”

“What’s it to you?” he said, sniffing at the drink. He looked up at the barkeep. “Give me another. This one’s buried.”

“Sure, buddy, longs ya payin’.”

Dusk just grunted as he pulled a bill out of his pocket and tossed it towards the barkeep.

Sam Gunther had been running this local bar for more than twenty years. It was never his life’s dream, but the place he felt most comfortable with. He always said he’d quit when the time came, when the kids were grown, when his wife no longer wanted him, but that time never came, not for Sam. He accepted his fate. The small life he forced himself to lead. In accepting it, he became old but not bitter. The truth was, the unknown scared him. He wasn’t going to give up something sure and risk all that he had and possibly wind up in the gutter like his father.

“Wanna talk about it, buddy?”

“The name’s not buddy, and no, not with you.”

“Look here, mister. I’m more than just a barkeep. Need a shrink, only the price of a beer.”

“No thanks, buddy,” he mocked, leaving his seat for a little more action.

“Dusk,” a voice came from behind.

Dusk turned to face the man, an angered expression about him. “Get outta here, ole man. This ain’t no place for you.”

“Dusk, we need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. If anyone’s responsible for Fanta dyin’ it’s you.”

“She’s alive, Dusk.” Drell caught his attention. He continued, “Millie saw something at the cemetery. In fact, it was at Marianna’s grave sight. Can we go somewhere and talk about this privately?”

“Forget it, Drell. I know she’s alive, so there ain’t nothin’ t’talk about. I’ll find her alone.”

Dusk walked out of the bar determined and angry, but for the first time filled with hope. He wasn’t one to share his feelings with anyone, anyone but Fanta. Her death tore at his heart, although he tried not to show it. Drell had the strange feeling that Dusk’s destructiveness would in time destroy him.

“I’ll find her for you, Dusk,” he whispered, while watching him take off on his motorcycle. “I must… for all our sakes.”