Hunter (14 page)

THIRTY-FIVE

Sam

           
The
lack of activity was driving me insane. My wrist was killing me, and I was
bored of the situation. Hunter, if that was his actual name, was less exciting
than advertised. Not that I wanted to have him try to kill me or anything, but
when I was kidnapped before, I didn’t remember it being so dull. Of course last
time we lost a good friend and my mind was racing, trying to figure out how I
could get out of the situation without ending up like her. Even in the interim,
when Mason was not around, there were people talking and making plans. It was
how we managed to find and rescue Jason.

           
My
head throbbed painfully, partly from inactivity and partly from slight
dehydration. He was giving me water, but not as much as I would normally be
drinking. I was beginning to feel the effects. Similarly, my stomach clenched
with hunger pains because he left only small amounts of food at a time. Enough
to survive. With my history as a street kid, it was something I had been
through before. Jason had always done his best to find food for all of us
without having to turn to criminal activities. The fact remained, there wasn’t
always enough, and sometimes Jason got desperate.

           
It
was that sense of desperation I tried to send across from my mind to his. I’d
tried earlier with no success. His emotions drifted on in the background of my
mind, ranging from security earlier, to sharp fear about forty minutes later.
Then he drifted a little, focused on what he was doing so the emotional
response didn’t come through very strongly, until he had a surprising flash of
joy. The happiness didn’t last long. As per usual with my brother. Although
some small shard of it remained, even with the worry and fear that came to the
forefront again.

           
After
what he found out about Hunter being able to block his abilities, I didn’t
think it would be too hard to shift the emotions to a slight desperation. Even
with the distance between us he was easy to read. Normally, my inclination
would be to help him feel more calm and confident. Unfortunately, neither of
those emotions were present today. And, as this was only my second attempt to
adjust his emotional state, it would probably be easier to work with the
desperation already present. Hopefully, with some practice at emotional
manipulation, I would be able to give him more confidence when he faced Hunter
again. That way he wouldn’t lose his nerve in the middle of the battle.

           
My
headache spiked when I pushed into my brother’s mind, but I was rewarded when
the hint of desperation at the back of his mind began to grow. “It’s working,”
I muttered to myself, my soft voice loud in the silent room. It was time to
stop pushing, and the headache abated slightly when I stopped the mental
exercise. Jason’s emotions were still present, and it was hard not to feel
guilty about manipulating him. It was a necessary evil… or could be, anyway.

           
I
settled back onto the flat pillow, using my free hand to fluff it up as much as
possible to cushion my pounding head. There was only a small amount of water
left in the jug, and, after taking a couple swallows, I rested the cool plastic
against my temple to alleviate the ache. It might be worthwhile to ask Hunter
for some pain pills when he showed up again. Most likely, he wouldn’t give them
to me, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. The headache wasn’t helping my
concentration. I needed to be able to focus, so I could keep Hunter afraid and
try to get Jason confident and strong.

           
My
guilt warred with the knowledge that what I was doing was necessary. I made a
promise to myself to tell Jason about my abilities after being rescued. In the
meantime, both of us were at risk and I had the ability to help. Even if my
assistance was simply a nudge of insecurity in our pursuer's mind. Instead of
the confidence and strength he normally felt, he would think;
maybe I should
reconsider. Do I really want to use this power right now? He can counter
everything I do.
It was what I imagined Jason thought during their first
encounter, and I longed to make Hunter feel similar uncertainty.

           
Something
that gave me a moment’s pause was that Jason would most likely end up having to
kill Hunter in order to stop him. It would be nearly impossible to keep the man
in a prison, even if the police could catch him. My brother had killed before,
in self-defense, and it tore him up inside. Even now, he second-guesses his
actions from that day. And it continues to make him unsure of his morality.
During the Kindred fiasco, which led to us running away again, he actually felt
grateful to the assassin for killing people who were a threat to him.

           
He
tried to bury the emotions under the also-present disgust and horror, but even
if he managed to fool himself, he didn’t fool me. His experience with Mason
changed him. It became harder for him to find other ways to deal with dangerous
criminals, and make them face justice. Killing them became the simple answer.

           
Hannah
and Alice helped quite a bit. Neither of them showed any kind of gratitude to
the killer. Instead, they showed anger that he even considered the idea of
killing someone to thank Jason. Eventually, Jason attempted to find Kindred’s
identity, and fought to remind the previously good man of who he was before
Mason screwed him up. Mason came too close to succeeding in his goals with my
brother. It wouldn’t have taken much longer for the pain and fear to overload
him to the point where Jason would have been someone completely different.
Mason used pain and fear to manipulate those he wanted to control.

           
I
used whatever emotions were most handy and, despite the lingering sense of
guilt, I still felt the thrill of success when Jason became more and more
desperate. The emotion I tweaked kept growing. It wasn’t what I expected, either
from him or from me, but I had to admit…

           
It
was kind of fun.

THIRTY-SIX

Hunter

           
After
watching the men and newly arrived woman enter the police department, I figured
they would probably be inside long enough for me to go get some lunch. I should
probably also stop by the house to check on my prisoner. Even if they were done
at the precinct by the time I finished, it would be easy enough to find Jason
again. It seemed unlikely they would find anything of importance this
afternoon, when they’d been unsuccessful so far.

           
Despite
my meeting with him in the woods, and the odd sense of fear at the thought of
facing him again, I still had confidence they wouldn’t find me. At least not
without a little guidance. Goading Jason into coming after me was my plan, not
that it would be difficult while his brother was in my power. This was the
first time I held someone hostage in order to gain a better hunt, and so far it
was fun playing the game. Even the lack of action wasn’t boring while
anticipating our next encounter.

           
I
stopped at the grocery store—the same one where I grabbed the kid—and picked up
some pre-made deli sandwiches and a small package of carrots. I couldn’t
remember giving the kid any food before rushing out of the house, so one of the
sandwiches was for him. It might be time to change hands on the cuffs too, so
he wouldn’t end up with an infection or something that would take him out of
the running for a satisfying hunt. He already hardly moved the chained arm, so
it was definitely painful for him. Maybe some padding could be put in so it
wouldn’t hurt so much. There were some mattress pads I could use to place
between the skin and the metal. Keeping him healthy and uninjured was important
for the hunt.

           
Normally,
comfort wasn’t something I worried about. However, Sam was waiting longer than
most of my victims due to my game with his brother. Of all of my prey, he ran
more risk of injury from being kept chained and stationary. Even young men
could become weak and ill from inactivity, and it was no fun to hunt sick game.
There was no sport in it.

           
Pulling
up to the driveway, I made sure there were no unusual vehicles parked nearby,
or people out who would normally be at work. Most people living near this house
wouldn’t realize someone was using it, but some of them were aware that my
friends left a caretaker. What they were unaware of, is that I wasn’t the one
they hired. The actual caretaker became an early victim when I decided I was
outstaying my welcome in my own little patch of woods. This house then became
my alternate place to stay.

           
Now
I have two playgrounds. It was nice to know that the second wasn’t on the
radar, even if the cops and Jason were all over the first. Although, the only
one who came close to my property was Jason, and even he didn’t make it all the
way. Leaving the car on the street was risky, but I didn’t plan on staying very
long. Only long enough to make the adjustments for my prisoner, feed him, and
then go back to stalking my most challenging prey yet.

           
Before
giving the boy his food, I stopped in another bedroom to prepare the padding
for his wrist. As weak as he was, Sam posed no threat to me when I switched the
chains. Preparing the padding was simple, and before long I entered the boy’s
room.

           
Sam
raised himself slowly as I walked in, looking like he was a little the worse
for wear. He blinked slowly a couple times, taking in my presence. “Hunter.”
His voice was flat and emotionless. “He hasn’t found you yet, huh?” With his
free hand he reached up and scratched his head near the hairline. “Oh well.
It’s only a matter of time.”

           
I
set the sandwich on the table next to his bed, and pulled a key from my pocket.
“I’m going to unlock your chain for a moment. If you fight me I will hurt you,
and you will not get the padding under the chain. If you’re good, you can have
the padding and some bandages for your injured wrist. Which will it be?” I
asked, ignoring the mild threat issued on his brother’s behalf.

           
He
met my eyes, challenging me for a moment before dropping them submissively. He
held out his chained wrist. “I’ll be good,” he said. “Could I ask one favor
though?”

           
Considering
the request, I nodded slowly, unsure what he would want from his captor. “I
have a monster headache. Do you think I could have some pain relievers?”

           
Pain
relief was along the lines of keeping him healthy enough for a hunt, so I
nodded. “Once your wrists are taken care of, I’ll bring you some Advil.”

           
He
stayed silent for a moment, allowing me to take the chain off the obviously
chafed and sore wrist. After removing the manacle, he remained seated on the
bed while I wrapped the handcuff in padding. I then clasped the padded chain
around his uninjured wrist. “Thank you,” he whispered, not meeting my eyes and
obviously ashamed of thanking me for anything.

           
The
padding was thick enough to prevent chafing, at least for a while. Eventually
the metal edges would rub through the pad. He probably wouldn’t be around long
enough for that. “Give me your hand,” I demanded, holding some gauze and tape.
The gauze was already covered with wound cream, so all I had to do was wrap it
around his wrist and tape it so it would stay in place.

           
“Eat,”
I said briskly, pointing to the sandwich and grabbing the empty bottle of
water. “I’ll be back with your Advil.”

           
If
Sam was confused by my sudden concern for his wellbeing, he chose not to
comment. To be honest, I wasn’t completely certain why his welfare mattered,
but for some reason it did. My phone beeped from the table near the door.
Apparently, there were several missed calls from my wife. The idea of talking
to her was in no way stimulating. Several days had passed already, so she
probably thought it was time to reconcile.

           
Personally,
I thought it was time to move on. But I wanted some kind of satisfaction from
her before cutting ties completely. I already quit my job—although she may not
be aware of it—so perhaps it was time to sever our relationship as well. Once
my game with the other Hunter was complete, I could go anywhere. With no ties
to anyone, I could hunt without a pattern for the authorities to discover.

           
It
would be impossible to stop me.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Jason

           
He’d
been outside the police station. It wasn’t until we wrapped up our file search
that I discovered the echoes. Based on how degraded the footsteps were, the
killer had been right across the street when we got to the station. Hannah’s
arrival distracted me enough that I hadn’t noticed his presence.

           
Nickels
needed to stay at work for now, so Mark, Hannah, and I left to get some supper
to bring back. Mark was next to me as we walked out, and Hannah was behind us. She
bumped into me with a startled
Humph!
when I stopped suddenly, feeling the vibrations I should have noticed earlier.

           
Mark
stopped when he heard Hannah, and looked at me curiously. His head was cocked
to the side, and he raised an eyebrow in a silent question. “He was here.” My
voice was rough with emotion. Any possible interaction with the man could lead
to my brother, and I let this chance slip through my fingers.

           
They
didn’t question who I meant, but Mark did ask, “When?” While looking around
warily, his hand hovering close to his concealed gun.

           
“When
we got here earlier this afternoon. He must have been following us.”

           
“Is
there a trail?” Hannah was also looking around warily, but she looked at me
when she spoke.

           
To
get a better feel, I stepped off to the side of the walkway onto the grass and
crouched with my hand lightly touching the ground. Closing my eyes, I sent part
of my consciousness through the earth, and tried to follow the echoes. With a
sigh, I gave up. “Nothing. He must have hardly stepped out of his car, but he
paced by it enough to leave an imprint.”

           
I
remained crouched for a moment; my hand now resting over my eyes as I
considered what could have happened if I noticed him earlier. “We could have
followed him or something.”

           
“Or
you could have caused an earthquake, and damaged a lot of people’s property.”
Until Mark spoke I didn’t realize my last thought was spoken aloud, and I
winced at his assessment. It might be true, but that didn’t make it any easier
to hear.

           
Hannah
spoke up in my defense… sort of. “I don’t know, Mark. He’s been here for two
years. You’d think he’d have more control of himself than to wreck things he
doesn’t want destroyed.”

           
It
was difficult to tell if she meant it as a compliment to growing control over
my abilities, or to reprimand me, both for leaving and for destruction I caused
in the past. Finally rising from the crouch, I spoke up again. “You’re both
right. I do have more control than two years ago, but with Sam at risk, I would
destroy
anything
if it meant getting to the person who took him.” My
cold tone seemed to snap both of them out of the slightly joking tone they’d
adopted, and back to the seriousness of the situation.

           
“I
want to check out some of the cabins from the list,” I said, heading toward the
car. With the two of them, I would be able to use my abilities as needed, and
have an FBI agent readily available to arrest the killer if we found him.

           
Hannah
turned toward the building and asked, “Won’t Detective Nickels wonder where we
went? We said we’d be back in a little while with some food.”

           
“If
you want, you can bring some food to him, Hannah,” my tone softened. “That way
he won’t have to wait for his supper.” And she wouldn’t be in harm’s way if we
came across the killer in the woods.

           
She
hesitated, clearly torn between coming with us, and keeping her promise to
bring a man his supper. “Just bring him something, Hannah. And cover for us.
Tell him I needed to get some stuff from home or something. There’s a
restaurant right down the street that has good take-out. When we come back, we
can go to my house and get some sleep. Both of you are welcome.”

           
Accepting
the plan, she walked down the sidewalk toward the restaurant, and I turned to
Mark. “Let’s go.”

           
“Do
you happen to have a flashlight?” He asked as we climbed into my car. “The
woods are going to be pretty dark already, and if you plan on doing any
searching we might want to be able to see.”

           
Lack
of light never bothered me, but I shrugged. “We can stop at my house to get
one. One of the cabins on the list is pretty close to the paths behind my house
anyway.”

           
Stopping
at the house would also make Hannah’s story more credible, and we wouldn’t have
to lie about stopping there if we were asked.

           
The
trip to my house was uneventful. Mark glanced around curiously, while I grabbed
a couple flashlights from the kitchen drawer. We headed out the back door, and
locked it behind us. When we reached the edge of my property, I stopped Mark
while I knelt and released the trap that would have sprung if he continued
forward.

           
The
trap wasn’t sprung, so it didn’t seem like the killer came back. After my
confrontation with the man, I was determined to use any method to catch him. I
used a huge amount of energy to set a trap in the earth. I attempted to make it
so the trap would only go off if
he
entered my property again.

           
Unfortunately,
the only way to test if it would work was if he tripped it. I wasn’t willing to
let Mark walk through the area when I didn’t know if he would set off the trap
or not. If he got hurt because I made a mistake in how it was put together…
well, that wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

           
Setting
traps was something I practiced since my interactions with Mason and Kindred,
and I got pretty good at them. Anything more complicated than my original holes
covered with a thin layer of earth, took a lot out of me. Way more energy than
my normal tracking. But, once I set a trap, all I had to do was release a small
area of it to walk through. Resetting the area wasn’t quite as energy
consuming.

           
But
it was still hard, and my vision doubled after resetting the trip-trigger of
the trap. Mark had to catch me when I stumbled forward. Trying to walk right
after setting it was apparently not a good idea. “Sorry.”

           
He
watched me quietly, not questioning me when I stopped him. My reaction now
caused his eyebrows to furrow, and a small frown appeared on his face. “What
did you do?” he asked.

           
I
explained, but didn’t go into detail about what the trap would do to the man it
was intended to ambush. As a man sworn to uphold the law, I wasn’t sure he’d
approve. Based on the look he was giving me, he had some idea of what
information was being withheld. Thankfully, he didn’t question my explanation.

           
“Let’s
get to the first area,” he suggested, waving me forward into the shadowy woods.
We barely started moving before he had to turn on his flashlight to avoid the
obstacles on the path. Soon, the only light was from the occasional glimpses of
the moon through the trees, and the beam from the flashlight. The area was
quiet. Only the occasional chirping of crickets and some rustling in the underbrush
broke the silence. Our footsteps crunched through fallen branches, and I could
hear Mark’s quiet breathing next to me.

           
Once
we reached the edge of the first property, I held my hand in front of Mark to
stop him. Someone was moving around outside the small cabin. “Check it out,” he
whispered. “I’ll cover the area.”

           
Probably
an unnecessary precaution, but I had been known to get tunnel vision and
completely miss what was happening nearby, so I nodded. Without kneeling, I
sent some power through the ground toward the cabin in order to feel out the
footprints in the area. The man who was outside the cabin was not the killer.
From people’s imprints, I could get some idea of how big a person was. The
height was difficult to tell, but I was usually pretty close in my guesses. I
based them on the person’s stride, the size of their feet, and the depth of the
echoes. Not an exact science, by any means, but often fairly accurate. The man
outside the cabin appeared to be the wrong height and weight for our killer.
The heartbeat and respirations I felt thudding through the ground indicated he
was most likely under the influence of alcohol, if not something stronger.

           
“Fat
and drunk,” I said quietly. “Not our guy. He hasn’t been here. At least not
recently.”

           
The
breath Mark let out sent vibrations through his body into the earth, and I felt
the quickened heartbeat begin to slow back to normal. He’d been nervous.
Something about being in a dark wooded area made him jumpier than normal. “You
okay?”

           
Mark
turned toward me sharply, and almost made me flinch away. “Fine!” He bit out harshly.
He took a deep breath and spoke again. “Why?” His voice was full of curiosity
now, and I wondered what caused the normally unflappable agent to snap.

           
Hesitant,
I only answered when the other man kept silent, waiting for a response. “Your
heart rate was up, and you were breathing pretty quickly. Were you anticipating
a problem?”

           
He
didn’t answer my question, instead asking another. “The breathing part is
understandable, but how could you possibly know my heart rate was elevated?”
His voice held a note of disbelief, which made me remember: no one knew about
that part of my ability, except Sam.

           
“It
was something I discovered after trying to run away from Kindred a couple years
ago.” I started to explain. “One of Mason’s goons apparently holed up in the
little town outside the city, and attacked me at the police station there.
During the fight, I fully encased him in hardened dirt, and discovered I could
feel his heartbeat and breathing pattern through the ground.” I glanced down,
although I knew Mark couldn’t see me well in the dim light from the flashlight.
My voice was soft and full of regret as I finished, “That’s the only reason I
didn’t kill him.”

           
“Why?”
His voice broke the flow of memory from when I had a hard time figuring out
whether I was a killer or not. “Because you could feel them slowing down?”

           
I
kept my gaze down, shook my head, and answered, “No. Because I never felt it
before.” His face, when I looked up, showed his continued confusion. “It
startled me. The only reason I didn’t kill him was because feeling anything
other than footsteps shocked me. Enough that I stopped controlling the power,
and the dirt he was trapped in crumbled. The cop I was with stepped in as
well.”

           
Mark
took a step toward me, but I stepped back shaking my head. “No,” I said, not
really sure what the objection was for, but feeling the need to say it. “I
would have killed him, Mark, but that’s not what this story is for. Since that
day I’ve been able to feel everybody’s heartbeats and breathing patterns. Most
of the time I can filter them out, but some days all I can feel is the constant
beating of stranger’s hearts, and the strange flow of their breathing. What I’m
telling you, Mark…”

           
“You’re
telling me the power has grown. We’re nearly a mile away from the cabin, and
you felt the heartbeat and breathing from a fat drunk man. And you’re also
telling me you weren’t trying to sense my heartbeat in particular, right?”

           
Letting
out a breath I replied, “You’re right here, Mark. Right in my space where I
rarely allow people. What I’m saying is, when someone is this close, I can’t
help but feel it.”

           
My
explanation had a sense of urgency that—I only realized a moment ago—came from
fearing Mark would get mad that I… I don’t know, spied on him or something.
That he couldn’t do anything near me I wouldn’t be able to sense in some way.
But his heart rate remained steady and he stepped toward me, slowly, as if
concerned I would back away again.

           
When
I didn’t move, he put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Jason. I was only curious
about the ability, not mad you used it. And don’t you ever think less of
yourself for what happened at that police department. The man attacked you in
plain view of a cop. If it happened to a regular person, the officer would
probably have shot him. It was most likely only shock about your power that
prevented the man from being shot. So in actuality,” his voice was almost
pleading with me to believe him, “you ended up saving his life.”

           
Not
quite certain he was right, since the cop had been too dazed to do more than
watch, I nodded. I just wanted to get back to work. “Anyway, this isn’t the
right place. We should get a move on.”