Fugitive

"I'll go," the lead detective said, pulling his crucifix from underneath his shirt out to the front and covering it with his hand. "It knows me." He walked to the edge of the clearing where the trees formed a wall - to the moon white face peering out (with yellow eyes that caught the meager light in unsettling ways). The eyes darted, but it seemed to have a very brief conversation with the detective (whose hand never moved from its place on his chest), and then pulled back into the woods (back into the darkness). "I have a location; it's time to close the loop," the detective said, taking out his phone and texting his counterpart in the adjoining county with the coordinates. "We're going to trust ... that? That thing?" one of the officers reacted. "Yes, we are going to trust that that thing," the detective responded. "Now that it has gotten a whiff of you while we talked, it can locate you on vacation hiking in Iceland buried under layers of clothing. The vampire has more than a prey drive, it has a prey MAP." "And it's doing all of this - finding our guy - for shits and giggles? To be a good citizen?" the officer continued, alarmed. The detective sighed. "Yes, AND ... for finders keepers on the next fugitive; an informant's gotta eat." Many pairs of eyes grew wide, but the detective was barking orders and tucking his crucifix inside his vest; it was go time.