The Hunter Inside (34 page)

Now, ten years later, here they all
were. She now knew that it had killed Paul Wayans, it had killed Bill Arnold’s
father (and maybe his mother), and it had killed the man in the photograph she
had received at home. O’Neill had broken his promise and, while accepting that
this was no ordinary killer, she didn’t think he would be able to do anything
to help her now.

O’Neill stood, panting and
looking confusedly at the two people sitting down in front of him. They looked
as if they were positively uncomfortable in his presence, and he wondered why
this could be. He recognized in Sandy a change. Ten years previously she’d had
the vitality of youth in her looks, despite her loss. Now though, she looked
worn down by life. There was no hint of youth in her tired features, and no
sparkle of hope in her eyes as she looked up at him. Arnold looked away from
him, but he was certain it was the same man he had seen arriving in Atlantic
Beach the previous day. This did not shock him; he was past being shocked by
the case of Shimasou. What
did
shock him was the silence in the room,
and the ease with which he had been able to find it after discovering Sandy’s
broken down car at the side of the road.

They’d decided the best way
of finding Sandy and Bill was to check the motels and see if either of them had
checked in under their real name. Despite it taking them a hell of a lot of
time to persuade the woman on the reception area of the first one they arrived
at that they had to see the guest list (she was adamant that data protection laws
prevented her from revealing guest’s details), he had been amazed to see the
name of Bill Arnold on the list. It had taken them next to no time at all, and
he had almost felt as though he were one step ahead of Shimasou for a change.

A noise outside made both
Sandy and Bill get to their feet, their eyes widening as a fresh injection of
fear was administered to their bodies.

‘It’s okay,’ O’Neill said.
‘That’ll be Todd.’

‘Who’s Todd?’ Arnold asked,
as cautiously as ever.

‘He helped me find you.
Plus, he might just have the information that will save your lives.’

Sandy looked towards the
door; her head angled to one side as she waited for what could be her savior to
enter the room. When Todd Mayhew pushed open the door, carrying a white file in
his hand, she almost laughed out loud.
How is this old man going to help me?
she wondered, disappointed in herself for allowing any word spoken by
O’Neill to give her hope.

Mayhew handed the file to
O’Neill, before shaking both Bill and Sandy’s hand in turn without speaking.
His relief at finding them was immense. Now they would have a chance of beating
Shimasou. Now they would find out, if they didn’t already know, that the killer
hunting them was no ordinary killer. They would find out that the only way of
surviving was to bring the spirit’s nemesis alive. They could not run; it would
find them. So Mayhew hoped that they were ready to stop. He hoped that they
were ready to call Shimasae, and banish Shimasou once more; this time forever.
He believed what he had read on the final page of the file to be true. It was
certainly strange, but he already knew that, and he wondered what the spirit of
Shimasae would look like when it was summoned to unravel the strength that the
incarnation of Shimasou continued to gather.

For a full minute the four
figures stood, almost motionless, the sound of the rain battering down outside
the open door of the room the only accompaniment to their thoughts. It was
Arnold who spoke first.

‘Do you know what this
thing is?’ His question was directed at O’Neill, but it was Mayhew who
answered. ‘Maybe you’d better both sit down,’ he said with calmness in his
voice that belied the stomach-churning quality of fear mixed with nervous
tension and, strangely, excitement that he felt.

They did as he said and sat
back down on the bed.

‘The thing that has been
hunting you is called Shimasou.’ He heeded their mystified expressions and
continued, ‘It’s a Chinese spirit that is trying to take over your minds.’ He
paused, waiting to see the reaction of the man and woman sat in front of him.
Both hardly flinched, and he wondered how they could take such news in such a
seemingly calm manner.

What has happened to them that they
believe
this
without questioning it?
he wondered. He looked at O’Neill, standing with one
hand forced into the pocket of his dark blue, cotton pants. He looked as if he
was reluctant to speak about Shimasou, and Mayhew continued without being
questioned.

‘You’re not surprised?’ he
asked, looking from Bill to Sandy.

‘No, we’re not surprised at
all. At least, I’m not.’ She turned her head in the direction of Bill Arnold.

‘Me neither, from what
Sandy’s told me.’

‘What’s happened, Sandy?’
Mayhew asked.

O’Neill intervened before she could
answer. ‘Listen, Todd. I need to go and make a telephone call. My cell phone’s
battery is almost dead and I need to call my colleague, Special Agent Hoskins.’
Mayhew nodded, understanding the reason for the call, and O’Neill turned to
Bill and Sandy.

‘Todd will tell you what we know and
I’ll go find a telephone. I’ll be as quick as I can. Todd, I’ll leave my cell
phone here; that way I can call you if I need to.’ He picked up the phone and
scanned the address book before taking a small pen from his pocket and writing
Hoskins’s number down. Mayhew stepped out of the door in order to let O’Neill
pass.

O’Neill paused on the wooden
threshold. ‘Bill, were any of your close relatives murdered in the last ten
years?’ He vitally needed this information, meaning he did not stand on
ceremony or ask the question in a subtle manner. Time was against them.

‘My father,’ Bill answered,
pronouncing each syllable in as flat a tone as the previous one.

‘What was his name?’

Arnold looked inquisitively
at the Special Agent.

‘Todd will fill you in on
the significance, but I need to know his name, Bill.’

‘His name was the same as
mine, but…’ He trailed off as O’Neill turned and exited the room, fishing in
his pocket for loose change as he went.

Mayhew stepped back inside
and closed the door on O’Neill and the storm. Straight away the noise of the
wind and rain dropped dramatically, and Mayhew placed O’Neill’s cell phone on
the bed between Bill and Sandy. The image of a battery flashed intermittently
on its display screen, and Mayhew knew that this was probably not a good thing.
The last thing he wanted was to lose contact with the Special Agent; he was
their only chance if they were going to be able to invoke the strength of
Shimasae. Without the information he had gone to obtain, their attempts at
summoning Shimasae might not work. Then they would not stand any chance
whatsoever of helping the world to survive the threat of Shimasou.

Bill and Sandy half-turned
to look at him, as he sat down behind them on the bed, moving a pillow to the
other edge and sitting side on to them so that he did not have to raise his
legs.

‘Okay, here’s what I know.
My friend, Paul Wayans, was murdered by Shimasou.’

Bill and Sandy looked at one another.
Mayhew wondered why, but continued.

‘Before he died, he came to see me,
and gave me the file over there.’ He pointed towards the white file that
O’Neill had placed half-on, half-off the dresser at the end of the bed. ‘He
also told me about Shimasou. He told me that his grandmother had come to
America from China, bringing with her few possessions. One thing she brought
was an old statue. He told me that she thought it gathered strength from its
surroundings, channeling it to the owner and helping them through their
struggles.’

Sandy and Bill studied
Mayhew as he spoke. Neither interrupted. Both wondered where the story was
going.

‘His grandmother was very
superstitious. But she was wrong about the statue. Her poverty meant that she
had to sell it and when she did her troubles began.’

‘What do you mean,
her
troubles
?’ Bill asked.

‘She began to hear voices
inside her head. It spoke to her; telling her of what was to come now that it
had been released. It was hungry to succeed, because it had been banished for
so long.’

Sandy and Bill both knew
exactly what Todd meant. Bill had been told Sandy’s name by a voice inside his
head. He knew it, and he could not get the memory of the voice out of his head.
It had a guttural sound. The image of the face that came with it was also
etched onto the foremost template of his conscious mind. ‘Did it kill her?’

‘No, well, I don’t really
know. You see, she killed
herself
. It drove her crazy and she killed
herself. After that, Paul said he had nightmares. As though it held weak links
to
his
mind. So he dug up some of the information in that file.’ He
pointed again. Neither turned their gaze away from him, preferring instead to
wait for him to continue.

‘Shimasou is a Chinese
spirit, like I said. It was released because Paul Wayans’ grandmother took the
statue away from China.’

‘But how does it choose its
victims?’ Sandy asked. It had taken her mother and father, but she was pretty
sure they had no link to the statue. She had certainly never seen anything that
could have been inhabited by an evil spirit sitting on the fireplace at her
parents’ house.

‘That’s something we’re not
sure of. We know that it forges bonds with generations of families through its
murders. You say it took your father, Bill?’

Arnold nodded.

‘And I already know that it
took both of your parents, Sandy.’ He attempted a look of apology as he spoke
the words. ‘I don’t know how it made the original links to your families, but
the links it made, it made to both of you. They were the strongest links.’

‘What about the first
photograph we received?’ Sandy asked.

‘That was John Riley.
Shimasou killed
his
mother too. Here comes the frightening part though.’
He felt he needed to provide a warning before telling them how Shimasou was not
just threatening
them
, but also the whole of mankind. Like the rest of
it was not frightening enough for Bill and Sandy. Like they could be any more
afraid. Like Sandy could feel worse than when she had stood and looked at
herself through
its
eyes. Like Bill would ever be as panicked as when
the light had bounced off the barrel of the gun in the bathroom and blinded
him.

‘By murdering people,
Shimasou becomes stronger. It becomes more complete in its human form and its
links are extended. It soaks up all of the bad from its victim’s soul, and it
gains insights into the minds of their relatives. Closest relatives come first,
and it picks them off one by one. By doing so, it gains further links. It also
grows stronger.’

‘But where does it stop?’
Bill Arnold asked, again demonstrating his willful ignorance to the two other
people in the room. Sandy, with a terrified and horrified look on her face, had
already realized what Mayhew was trying gently to tell them.

‘It doesn’t Bill. It
doesn’t stop. It just carries on, growing and growing in strength, and takes
over everyone and everything.’

‘No…’ Bill Arnold’s
expression changed. He seemed distant - as though he were picturing something
deep in his mind. His attention snapped back when Mayhew continued, ‘Unless we
stop it, that is.’

Sandy looked at him with a
mixture of amazement and doubt. ‘How can we stop it?’ She based her question on
the fact that she had already glimpsed its strength. Mayhew did not know this,
but he understood the question.

‘I found something when I
checked Shimasou out on the Internet. Shimasou has a nemesis called Shimasae.
Where the spirit of Shimasou is present, so too is the spirit of Shimasae. But
in the same way as Shimasou had to be released, so too does Shimasae.’

‘But how?’ Bill asked.

‘You must call Shimasae by
repeating the names of Shimasou’s victims in the correct order. This allows
Shimasae to be released by degrees to unravel the form of Shimasou. You see, if
either were released at once in their full being the world would be engulfed by
the force of their coming together. I think this storm has something to do with
Shimasae. It’s here, waiting, but you need to release it bit by bit.

Bill and Sandy sat
pondering the issue for a moment. Bill was doubtful about the story.
How can
it be real?
he wondered.
How can
I
save the world? I’m no
Superman
.

Sandy had no doubts. She
would do it. Not for the world, but because she knew that it was the only way
for her to survive Shimasou. If she did not survive, then it would form links
with Sean and David. She had been ready to stand and fight for what seemed a
very long time.

And now she knew how.

O’Neill barely heard Mayhew
close the door behind him. He stepped out into the storm, wincing as its power
increased seemingly every second he was in it. The stinging whip of the rain
attacking his eyes made him abandon his search for loose change and hold both
hands in front of his face, rivulets of rain dripping from the tip of each of
his fingers. He would have to wait until he found a phone booth before resuming
his search for change. The cotton pants that he wore were too tight for him to
walk and have his hand in the pocket at the same time anyway, and this was
something that displeased the Special Agent. Six months ago, when he had bought
the pants, he had needed a belt to go with them. They were the most comfortable
he’d had in years. Now though, the crotch felt as if it would split with every
step. The belt lay at home, gathering dust on the top shelf of his closet. It
was something he intended to bring out of its early retirement, if he got the
chance. First of all, though, he had to find a way through the storm and get to
a telephone.