Hunter (17 page)

FORTY-TWO

Hunter

           
There
are only a few times I can remember feeling enough anger to have it show. When
I was a child, about thirteen or so, I got angry at my grandfather for… well,
the exact reason is something I can’t remember clearly. I was so angry I yelled
at him, and hit him. Another time was in college while I was dating a girl who
cheated on me. I managed to refrain from hitting her, but it was a close thing.
Instead, I found the guy she’d been with and beat him to a pulp. He spent about
a week in the hospital, but never gave my name to the police when they
questioned him about the attack.

           
The
next time I truly felt anger was what changed the course of my life. Another
man approached my wife and showed interest in her. That led to one of the few
major fights I allowed to happen in my marriage, because she’d been flattered.
Instead of being disgusted that a man would make an advance on a married woman,
she took it as a compliment. I couldn’t allow the insult to stand. By then I
was in control enough to hide my true rage until I was able to abduct the man.
He became the first victim of my hunting games.

           
Now
my anger flared again at the new awareness that this
Jason
person might
actually be stronger than me, and his little brother wouldn’t tell me about his
abilities. “Tell me, boy!” I spat, lunging toward him, but pausing when the
girl rushed to get in front of me.

           
“He
doesn’t know!” Her voice was desperate, and she glanced back at Sam quickly.
“When it comes to his powers, Jason is very secretive. There are probably a lot
of things he can do that he’s never told anyone.”

           
Glaring
at her didn’t change her resolve, but I couldn’t fully believe her. “Sit down.
I wasn’t asking you.”

           
Sam
spoke up then, apparently unwilling to let the girl speak for him. “I warned
you,” he said with a smirk, leaning back against the wall. He looked like he
was feeling very relaxed. “Jason is better than you. You didn’t want to listen,
and he got through your defenses. I told you the truth about him. You poked the
tiger, and he’s going to fight back with all he has.”

           
I
grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. I was
pleased to see the boy’s confident smirk fade away. “Tell me everything he can
do!”

           
He
stared at me for a moment, as if considering what to say. But as his gaze
burned into mine I could feel my anger fading. Not that it was gone, but I
started feeling more afraid and less angry. Sam was right. His brother was
stronger than I gave him credit for, but I was still determined to prove that I
was better. “Fine,” he said, halting before he continued. “Jason can feel
echoes and vibrations in the ground that tell him where people are. And he
knows people by their footsteps as soon as he feels them.”

           
The
girl looked like she wanted to interrupt, but Sam glared at her and continued.
“He can cause earthquakes, make holes appear, and throw massive amounts of dirt
around like its child’s play. Beyond that,” he shrugged; a falsely apologetic
look on his face. “I have no idea. Because she’s right.” He indicated the girl
on the bed with a nod. “Jason’s very secretive about his abilities, and
protective of us. To keep us safe, he doesn’t tell us very much about his
powers. That way we can’t tell people like you, who would then be warned about
everything he can do.”

           
Hiking
him up by his shirt so his feet barely touched the ground, I shook him
slightly. “Fine. If that’s all you’re going to share, know this; I will not
give up on him. He is my ultimate prey, and, if I choose to sell him, I’ll be
set for life!” I shoved Sam back onto the bed, and his head thumped painfully
against the wall. He rubbed at the sore spot and glared at me.

           
I
turned to leave, anger abated for the moment. “If he fights me too hard and I
can’t take him alive, which is my goal right now,” I said with a glance over my
shoulder. “Then I will stop holding back. I will kill him.”

           
Closing
the door firmly behind me, I leaned on it to see if they would think I left and
start talking. It took a few minutes of silence before the girl spoke. “You do
know more, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question, and I knew it to be truth. Sam
hadn’t told me anything about his big brother that I didn’t already know. And
he probably knew it.

           
“Even
if I do,” Sam hedged, “I wouldn’t tell him. Jason is the only chance we have,
Hannah. If this guy knows everything he can do, he can plan around it, and
Jason loses his edge. But,” he continued. “It wasn’t all a lie. I really don’t
know everything he’s capable of, because he hardly talks to me about his
abilities. Now quiet, I have a headache and…” His voice got very quiet, and I
was no longer able to hear him.

           
Letting
out a sigh, I realized I learned nothing from my attempt at eavesdropping. Sam
might not have told me everything, but I knew already that he wouldn’t. I had
let my anger get the better of me, which wasted time and energy. It was time to
clean myself up, and get back to the hunt. Moving away from the door I winced.
My head throbbed and my muscles ached. Okay. My plans would need to be slightly
changed. Continuing would have to wait until after I took some pain relievers,
and iced the bruises on my chest. Being hit with tons of heavy dirt moving at
high speeds did not feel pleasant.

           
My
main consolation was that Jason had to be hurting after I threw the same trick
back at him when I retreated. After all, until today he had no idea what I
could do. Consequently, he had no defense against it.

           
Now
that he knew, I mused uneasily, would he be even harder to beat?

FORTY-THREE

Jason

           
Leaving
the woods was more difficult than entering. Now that I knew the killer was
there, I needed to see where his tracks led. Mark wouldn’t let me track him.
“You’re beat up right now, Jase. And probably in a little shock.”

           
Snorting
I replied, “I don’t think I’m the only one, but I need to find Sam.” Insisting
on it did me little good. In the end I leaned heavily on Mark as we walked, my
bruised back seizing up with every motion, sending daggers of pain through my
entire body. My chest was also badly bruised. It was likely an identical injury
to the one I inflicted on the other man, but that knowledge didn’t make
breathing any easier.

           
“You
just found out this guy can do what you do, Jason. It’s time to regroup and
figure out how to stop him.” It would also teach him how to stop me.

           
If
we spent time brainstorming ways to get around the killer’s abilities, it would
also give Mark more insight on my own powers. He breathed out heavily,
supporting much of my weight without complaint. It all came down to trust. Did
I trust Mark enough to share everything I knew about how my powers work, in
order for him to help me stop this guy?

           
Trust
had always been something I struggled with, and now is no exception.
Eventually, I learned to trust Alice. At first I trusted her easily, even going
so far as to show her my power so she would accept the information I gave her
about a missing girl. But after seeing her partner, and how much he resembled
my father, I retreated and didn’t go back to her for several weeks. Even then I
was suspicious and wary every time we met. It took several months—in which she
never gave up my secret or attempted to use me for selfish goals—for me to open
up again.

           
With
Dan it was different. Even knowing he was nothing like my father, the physical
resemblance prevented me from separating him from my abusive monster of a
father. It took years for me to finally accept him, and even then it was
slightly forced. He caught me using my powers. But, like Alice, Dan never told
anyone or asked me to use them. Eventually I trusted him with the other
children who, until my experience with Trevor Mason, were under my protection.
They had been my family, and still would be, if I let them in again. And if
they allowed me back. After all we went through in our years on the streets—I
left. They might not find my desertion so easy to forgive, since they’d all
experienced abandonment before.

           
“Jason,
the flashlight is dying. Do you think you could help lead us out of here?” Mark
asked wearily, dragging me back to the present. “You with me, bud?”

           
Nodding
was a bad idea, so I muttered an incoherent response and tried to concentrate
on the path we needed to follow. Concentrating on a task allowed me to stay
more lucid, and I wondered if I hit my head when the other Tracker threw me
into the tree.

           
“Yeah,
we’ll check that when we get out of the woods,” Mark said, which made me
realize I voiced my thoughts out loud.

           
Grunting,
I muttered, “I must be more out of it than I thought.” Then I directed him to
the trail we needed to follow. “This will lead us out, to my backyard. Then we
need to call Nickels.”

           
Mark’s
footsteps faltered for a moment, “Right. The detective will definitely be
wondering where we disappeared to. And Hannah… I guess we’ll need to call Alice
again.” His voice softened with regret at the end, and I knew he didn’t want to
make that call.

           
She
would have made it here anyway in the next day or so in order to find my
brother. Now it would be more imperative for her to come and help find her
sister. “I can call, if you want. It’s my fault anyway.” I spoke as clearly as
possible.

           
“It’s
not, Jason. We had no way of knowing this guy would take another person while
he still has Sam. From everything in his previous MO he only takes one victim
at a time.”

           
True.
That had been his normal routine, but his set pattern changed when he noticed
me. “Everything’s different now.” My voice was quiet. “We knew that when he
started targeting me after taking Sam.”

           
“You’re
right, bud. But that doesn’t make any of this your fault. I’ll call Alice. You
just worry about what we’re going to tell the detective, since he knows nothing
about your special talents.”

           
Great.
Yet another thing I needed to explain that I didn’t even want to think about.
Expanding my trust to Mark was one thing. He knew about my abilities for years
without giving me away to anyone. Nickels was new. “Head hurts,” I grumbled as
he chuckled briefly, the sound oddly macabre in the dark woods.

           
“Not
surprised. At the speed you flew into that tree, I was just happy you were
still conscious.” He squeezed my shoulder lightly, almost causing me to drop on
the spot. My pained groan clued him in. “Sorry.” He rushed to apologize,
rubbing the spot gently. “You’re going to need some major pain killers, I
think.”

           
“I’ll
be fine.” Insisting on it didn’t make it true, but hope springs eternal.
Conversation died then, and I found myself drifting. My world was confined to
the pain in my head and back, until we reached my house and Mark began patting
at my pockets. “What’cha doin’?” I slurred, slapping at him with uncoordinated
motions—further evidence that I had, in fact, hit my head.

           
“I
need your keys.” His voice was such a forced calm that I had to look up at him,
squinting through the yard light, to see what was wrong. He muttered to himself
in such a low voice I couldn’t understand him as I reached to get the key from
my pocket.

           
“Mark?”

           
“Keep
quiet, Jason. I’ll take care of cleaning you up a bit before we call Detective
Nickels.”

           
He
was more upset now than when we were in the woods. And the only thing that
changed was… “The light,” I said quietly.

           
“What?”

           
“It’s
the only change,” I explained while he dragged me through the kitchen into the
living room. He dumped me onto the old couch as gently as he could, and turned
on the side lamp.

           
He
sighed, looking down at the ground with a slight shake of his head. “I know you
have a concussion, Jason, so I’m not sure if I’m supposed to follow what you’re
saying or not.”

           
“What’s
wrong?” My voice rose slightly and I winced at the increased volume. “You
weren’t worried, then we got into the light and now you are,” I finished in a
quieter tone.

           
Sighing
again, he went to the kitchen and grabbed ice packs, and some wet towels.
“Here.” He passed me the largest ice pack. “Put this on your back. I’ll clean
up your head, and then this one will go there.” He indicated the smaller pack.

           
The
first towel was nearly blackened with dirt when he finished gently cleaning my
face. I almost groaned with the relief of having the crusty dirt off. The
second towel he rubbed across the back of my neck, and I hissed with the sudden
stinging pain at the base of my skull. He easily blocked my hands from moving
to the back of my head, but he pulled the towel away in order to do so. The
very blood soaked towel.

           
Wincing
in sympathy, he sighed again. “I think you’re going to need stitches for that
one, Jason. It’s still bleeding quite a bit.”

           
Hospitals
were not an option. Not when I would run the risk of them wanting to admit me
after seeing my injuries. “No. Just put pressure on, and use some of the gauze
and tape from my first aid kit.”

           
I
could tell he wanted to argue, but I wasn’t going to lose any more time than
necessary to recoup after this disastrous outing. “Do what you can here, Mark.”

           
Nodding
tersely, he went back into the kitchen to get some clean soapy water in a bowl,
and followed my directions to the first aid kit. “This is going to hurt. The
tree wasn’t exactly sanitary, and I am not closing this up until it’s clean.
You don’t have anything I can use to numb the area.”

           
He
was trying to get me to reconsider going to the hospital, but my mind was made up.
I removed my dirt-covered shirt, and he helped me get repositioned onto my
stomach. My head rested on my folded arms, and a clean towel was under me to
keep the blood off the couch.

           
My
eyes closed, and I had to force myself to stay awake. Sleeping after a head
wound… not a great plan. Mark knew as well and kept a steady stream of chatter
while he gathered the materials.

           
I
kept myself focused on Sam as Mark began the grueling cleaning process,
reminding myself this was how it had to be, so I wouldn’t be further delayed in
finding my brother. After thoroughly scrubbing the laceration with what felt
like sandpaper, he rubbed a large amount of antibiotic cream onto the wound.
Using strips of tape to hold the edges together, he covered the area with gauze.
It wasn’t until he was done that I realized I took off my shirt in front of
him. Until that moment, I hadn’t removed my shirt in front of anyone since my
torture at the hands of Trevor Mason.

           
I
exposed all my scars, my weaknesses, to Mark without even thinking about it.
And the man hadn’t even flinched. He did what he needed to do without
noticeable hesitation.

           
Leaving
me to rest, he arranged the ice packs so they sat on the worst of the bruised
areas, and went to call Alice and Detective Nickels. When he finished, he told
me they would both be by the house the next morning to figure out our next
move. Alice and Mark knew about my powers already, but not the full extent.
Detective Nickels knew nothing about them, but that was about to change. He was
part of this, and I was going to take a leap of faith and tell him about my
powers. Even if he didn’t accept me, Alice and Dan would have my back, and we
would still be able to find Sam and Hannah. But Nickels seemed pretty open
minded, so I didn’t think he’d turn on me.

           
Maybe
it was time for me to learn to trust again.