Hunter (13 page)
THIRTY-TWO
Sam
After
my confrontation with Hunter last night, I fell into an exhausted sleep. After
pushing into Hunter’s mind more deeply than before, my hope was that my ability
would make him forget most of the conversation. Once I felt the hint of fear in
his emotions at the thought of facing Jason, I had my in. If I could cause the
fear to grow, maybe it would be possible to convince him to let me go, in order
to protect him from my brother’s anger.
So
far I’d gotten mixed signals on the success of my attempt. I was pretty sure he
remembered only a small portion of our conversation. However, the fear of
facing my brother was now overridden by the desire to find out how it felt to
fight through fear, and come out victorious. Still, his lack of experience with
such a feeling could give Jason a slight edge in their next meeting.
The
pain from my wrist was getting worse, and brought me back to myself. It was raw
and bleeding, and I resolved to try convincing Hunter to switch wrists.
Hopefully he would pad it with something first. Or at least give me something a
little thicker I could use to pad it myself once it was on. Given a few moments
to be focused solely on
me
, I started shaking. Despite the control I
could wield over my captor, I was afraid. My control over him was not complete,
and if he got really mad, I wasn’t sure of my ability to stop him from killing
me. It was possible, if I pushed hard enough, I might drive him insane in the
attempt to protect myself.
My
growing power was also making me nervous. Making Hunter forget our conversation
the night before made me feel more powerful and in control than ever before.
Despite my position as his captive, I was able to order him out of the room,
knowing he wouldn’t remember what was said. He was going to sell my brother. If
he faced Jason and won, my brother would face a lifetime of tortures worse than
Trevor Mason managed, and there would be nothing I could do about it.
I
couldn’t let that happen. Somehow Jason needed to figure out Hunter’s
abilities, so he could find a way to fight him. Jason is stronger than Hunter
in regard to raw power. When it came to focus, Hunter might have him beat. My
brother would need to keep pushing past his normal limits in order to come out
on top.
An
idea slowly formed in my mind. I could plant suggestions of fear into Hunter’s
mind, and I’ve known him only a couple days. My brother had been a constant in
my life for the last five years, and my mind knew his intimately. Could my
ability somehow be used to contact Jason? Was there some way the connection I
had with his mind could be reversed so he could feel mine? Obviously, I didn’t
know enough about my ability to know the answer. I also had no idea how to
start. But, it might be worth experimenting in order to figure it out.
Hunter
was gone again, I realized while considering my options. His emotions were much
easier to read when he was in the house, and right now they were faded enough
that I knew he wasn’t nearby. I found myself wondering if Jason would call for
help today. From what Hunter said, and the exhaustion and worry I felt from
Jason, it didn’t seem like he had gone to anyone yet.
It
could be a little frustrating, being Jason’s brother. He never told me the
truth about how he felt. I was always his first priority—except when we moved
here, that was mostly for his own sake. Not that I could blame him—but he still
wouldn’t call for help when I was in trouble. He had so many resources
available to him, but would only go to them when he’d worn himself to the bone.
When he finally knew he couldn’t handle it alone anymore. I wanted to be mad at
him, but it was the way he dealt with everything for as long as I can remember.
He obviously never called for help when he was with our father, didn’t ask for
anyone’s help when he rescued me from our father, and only went to Alice when
things were at their worst.
At
some point—probably when he was left alone with our father, a sin I could never
forgive our mother for—he learned to rely on himself. At least, for the most
part. Knowing our father, Jason couldn’t have gone to him for anything. Dear
old dad was quick to anger and slow to help. If Jason asked for anything, he
put himself at risk of injury.
Back
then his emotions had been hidden from me. The way he reacted to certain
situations now, led me to believe he’d been worse off with our father than I’d
been. When Mason told him where we were, our father showed no interest in me.
Another indication there was something he wanted from Jason that he didn’t want
from me. Just what it could be, I wasn’t sure. Jason would probably never
share.
Until
Hunter came back, and I could try to convince him to adjust the manacle to my
other wrist, I tried to move it over a different part of my arm. I stuffed as
much cloth between the harsh metal and my skin as I could, without making it
too tight. Then I leaned back on the pillow and concentrated on my brother,
actively trying to feel for his mind instead of just letting the emotions come
to me as they normally did. The anger I felt from him initially didn’t surprise
me in the least. The deep sense of security that followed, however, did. I
frowned, wondering what could have happened to make the always-present fear
fade into the background.
The
feeling of protection began to envelop me, and I tried to send a different
emotion along the invisible pathway linking our minds. It was a simple
experiment, but if it worked, I might be able to send a message. I might be
able to help protect my brother.
THIRTY-THREE
Hunter
Taking
the car the morning after Jason saw it was a risk. I replaced the license
plates, and added a decal to the window so it wouldn’t look exactly the same as
the night before. He wouldn’t have had a good look at the color, but he could
have seen what kind of car it was. It was a pretty common vehicle, so I wasn’t
too worried. Or so I told myself.
The
strange feeling of apprehension still came over me each time I considered
facing the other man, but the emotion was so odd I simply ignored it. I also
fought against the worry that I might lose. I got a couple hours of sleep after
challenging Jason last night, and planned to get a good picture of what he was
up to today. My first stop was a coffee shop across the street from the police
station. I wanted to see if Jason would decide to go for help. If not, I would
go back to Jason’s house to follow him. Chances were good that, if he wasn’t at
the police station, he would be in the woods again. The more I know about my
prey, the better qualified I become to hunt it.
Upon arrival at the coffee shop, I ordered a plain black
coffee and a cruller, and settled in to watch the police station. My order
arrived just before Jason parked his car on the road in front of the building.
My breath quickened in anticipation of future altercations. As I watched one of
the detectives, a man who’d been at the scene of my most recent crime, joined
him. They spoke for several minutes, Jason acting nervous and fidgety
throughout the conversation.
If
possible, Jason tensed even more for a moment when another man approached. As I
watched, he visibly relaxed, even smiling slightly at the new arrival. Jason
had another ally. It may be necessary to watch and get to know this new man.
The newcomer held himself confidently and, even though there was no visible
badge, he seemed like law enforcement. What kind of law enforcement, I wasn’t
sure. Either another detective, a fed, or something else; it was hard to judge.
He dressed casually, but still in decent khakis and a long sleeved button up.
Even from across the street a sharp intelligence was evident in the way he took
in his surroundings, and how he interacted with Jason.
Jason
still seemed… not quite happy, but maybe relieved to see him. Why he’d been so
tense with the detective, and so relaxed with this new man, I couldn’t even
begin to guess. It became obvious from the reactions of the other two men that
Jason was telling them about his missing brother.
The
newcomer raised an eyebrow at Jason, and the younger man gave such a slight nod
that I wasn’t sure if the detective noticed. Interesting. The two obviously had
some kind of history, and were keeping something from the detective. Although,
from the slight frown on the detective’s face, he wasn’t as in the dark as the
others wanted him to be. The three men climbed into one of the cars, Jason
looking very unhappy, and drove off. So I wouldn’t lose them, I rose and threw
away my cup, watching the direction they went as I got into my own vehicle and
followed.
Following
them was easy. None of them showed any sign of knowing they were being watched.
And, even if they suspected, even Jason didn’t know what I looked like. It was
unlikely that they would think I’d risk following them through town, but it was
still worth being careful. Only a few minutes passed before the other men
stopped, and got out of the car. They went into a small office that Jason
apparently had a key to. Glancing at the door, I realized how he’d gotten
involved in my business. Across the glass in bold, white letters were the
words: PRIVATE DETECTIVE. There was smaller lettering across the bottom,
probably the name of the owner of the agency and the office hours, but that was
unimportant.
A
private detective. Strange how the regular police seemed to be okay with his
involvement in the case. From what I heard, cops don’t much like private eyes
getting into their business. Apparently Jason is good enough at what he does to
make him a welcomed part of the case. Which could be bad for me. Most likely he
used his abilities, which apparently match mine, in order to be better at his
work.
The
good news, for me anyway, is that he still doesn’t know about my abilities. He
likely has no idea why his attempt at using his powers on me didn’t work, and
was probably confused and scared that his normal tactics didn’t work. The
tickle of fear at the back of my mind worked its way forward again. He came so
close to getting through my defenses. The flow of raw power from the younger
man was impressive.
One
thing was certain: our next encounter would not end without injuries.
THIRTY-FOUR
Jason
The
ride to my office was over too quickly, and I could admit—even if only to
myself—that it was good to not be returning by myself. I wasn’t sure what kind
of reception to expect from Joe, and was not looking forward to seeing him
again. But here we were, ready to face my drunken idiot of a boss, and hoping
he would at least be sober today. A little bell rang when the door opened, and
there was a shuffling sound from the back room. If he actually left his wife,
he was probably sleeping back there.
“Joe!”
Nickels called out loudly, making me cringe. “Come on out.”
Joe
came out of the back room, graying hair mussed, and a few days’ worth of
untrimmed beard growing on his normally clean-shaven face. Usually he only got
this scruffy when he was working a case, but apparently going on a bender was
cause to stop shaving also. And from the smell of booze leaking out of every
pore in his body, he kept up where he left off the last time I saw him.
He
glared at me, and I couldn’t help but shrink away from the fury in his eyes.
Only having Mark standing in front of me kept me from running right out the
door. “What?” he barked angrily. He shifted his glare to Nickels, who glanced
between Joe and me, a hard look on his normally friendly face. From the tension
in Mark’s shoulders, he also picked up on the exchange.
Ignoring
the tension for the moment, Nickels spoke, “Jason has been working a case with
us, and we may need your help.”
The
drunken man grunted and raised his hand toward me. “What? The boy wonder not
good enough for ya?” The sheer hostility in his voice was a little surprising.
Until recently, we got along just fine. He even got to the point of
complimenting my work, if it was something complicated that I figured out.
“Actually,”
Nickels’ voice was hard, mirroring the antagonism he heard in the other man.
“Jason has been doing a great job. We just have a question he can’t answer,
because he hasn’t lived here long enough to know. And I happen to know that you
have files or lists on pretty much everyone who’s ever had property in these
woods. That is what I’m looking for. If you hand it over, we’ll get outta your
hair.”
Grunting,
and apparently unwilling to pick a fight with the detective, Joe went to his
filing cabinet and sifted through the surprisingly organized drawer. “Here.” He
shoved the files in Nickels’ face. “Now get out!”
Without
waiting for a reply, he stomped back to the cot in the back room. Taking a deep
breath I stepped toward the door separating us. “Joe.” I waited for him to look
up, the sneer still evident. “I quit,” I said and turned, walking out of the
office without a glance back to see if the other men were following. Leaning on
the wall outside I sighed heavily, but was sure quitting was the right thing.
“You
okay?” Mark asked, leaning next to me. A glance upward was all it took to see
the concern on his face, which matched the tone of voice.
Nickels
leaned on the wall to the other side of me. “Did he hurt you, Jason?” he asked
calmly. There was a hard tone to his voice that made me look at him sharply. “I
saw the look he gave you, and how you reacted to it. Should we be arresting
him?”
Letting
my head drop again, I shook it briefly. “No. He didn’t hurt me. The last time I
went to the office he came in drunk, and was accusing me of having an affair
with his wife. Ironically, I’m probably the only person in his life who
wasn’t.” My chuckle was devoid of humor.
“You
were right to quit,” Mark stated, echoing my thoughts and making me even more confident
resigning was the right choice. “When that kind of behavior starts… well, you
know what it leads to.”
Better
than most. “Thanks, Mark. But now I’m out of a job. Can’t really afford that
right now, and I don’t have my PI license yet.”
Nickels
shrugged, obviously agreeing with the choices made so far. “Finish helping us
on this case and you’ll be fully qualified to take the exam.”
It
seemed like they were going to keep talking, and I had a little brother to
find, so it was time to forget the job situation and get back to the search.
“Thanks, Scott,” I said, surprising both of us with the second use of his first
name that day. Apparently, the first wasn’t a fluke. Was it possible I was
beginning to truly trust the detective? “What’s in the files?” I asked quickly,
unwilling to delve into the new comfort I felt with the other man.
Opening
the file, he scanned it quickly. The first page was simply a list of names,
which was followed by pages of information on each person. “Was this just a
hobby for him, or were all these people involved in his cases at some point?”
Mark asked, surprised by the information in the files.
“Hobby,”
Nickels and I said together. “He is nothing if not nosy,” I said. “But for now
it’s helpful.”
“Maybe,”
Nickels said, sounding less sure. “But we still don’t know what we’re looking
for.”
That
was true, but at least we had a starting point. “Let’s get back to the
station,” Nickels said. “There’s some work I have to do, and you and Mark can
start on this.” He raised the files. “My office work won’t take long, and then
we can canvass the cabins to see which are in use right now.”
Leaving
my former place of employment, we drove back to the precinct in silence. Mark
and I went over some of the information as Nickels drove. Some of the people I
thought were extremely unlikely; most notably, the families with small
children. I highly doubted that the family weekend activity was hunting down
innocent people. So I focused more on the properties owned by single men or
married ones who—according to Joe’s notes anyway—never brought their wives with
them to the woods. Putting checkmarks next to those most worth a closer look, I
finished my initial run through only a minute before we parked.
As
we walked toward the building, I paused, noting some very familiar and welcome
footsteps approaching the building from the visitors’ parking lot. Despite the
gravity of the situation, I felt a smile crossing my face. “Jason?” Nickels
looked confused when he paused to look back to where I stopped.
Ignoring
him, I rushed forward, easily catching my quarry before she entered the
building. Hannah spun around, surprise on her face as I grabbed her in a big
hug. “Hello,” I said softly, releasing her.
“Hi.”
Her face was slightly flushed, and her answering smile was tainted by the
sadness in her eyes. “Any news?” She knew the answer before I said anything,
the drop of my mouth telling her everything. Hannah put her hand up, touching
the side of my face gently. I relished the contact, and missed the warmth of
her hand when she dropped it back down to her side. “Alice is coming, but she
couldn’t get off to come right away.”
She
left unsaid the fact that she obviously dropped everything to come here once
she knew where I was. “Thank you.” I would have continued speaking, but Mark
and Nickels caught up.
“Hello,
Agent Jones. It’s nice to see you again,” Hannah said, the ghost of a smile on
her face. From what I could tell, she liked Mark, but still seemed wary—perhaps
because he liked her sister; or maybe because he was most often around during
dangerous cases.
Nickels
took a step closer, and I spoke again, “Hannah, this is Detective Scott
Nickels. He’s the lead on the case.”
They
shook hands and exchanged greetings as we continued into the building. My hand stayed
entwined with Hannah’s as we entered, and I started to think leaving her had
been a huge mistake. Seeing her now grounded me in a way I hadn’t felt in
years.
“Unfortunately
I don’t think you’ll be able to help officially Miss Farrow,” Nickels said.
“But you can stick around and share your thoughts as you hear the facts.”
She
waved away the concern. “I’m not here to work the case, detective. Jason is a
friend, and I came for him.” She met my eyes, warmth clearly showing as she
spoke. She tightened her grip on my hand, and I realized she was holding me as
much as I was holding her.
“I’m
sorry,” I said quietly, breaking eye contact, and squeezing her hand slightly.
“I…” She stopped me with a quick kiss to the cheek.
“We’ll
talk later. After we’ve found Sam, okay?”
At
some point I would have to talk to Hannah and Mark without Nickels. They had to
know what we were up against. Nickels—Scott—was becoming someone I could
consider trusting. My slip earlier showed that at least a part of me knew it.
I’d been keeping him at arm’s length to avoid another person knowing my
secrets, but if this case went how I thought it would…
I
was going to have to tell him.