Hunter (19 page)

FORTY-SIX

Jason

           
Despite
my best intentions, Mark ended up making both the call to Alice and the call to
Detective Nickels. Alice planned to come right away, saying she would have Dan
tell their captain she had a family emergency that couldn’t wait. Nickels also
came right away since he was worried when Hannah never returned from getting
supper. Mark helped me get a shirt on before Nickels arrived. “What in the
world happened to you?” The Detective asked incredulously when he came in and
saw my injuries. Mark was also walking with a limp he couldn’t hide. Apparently
he twisted his ankle or something when the killer dropped him into a hole.

           
Exchanging
a look with Mark, I allowed myself to dive headfirst into the explanation.
“Scott, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I began. Nickels’
eyes darted to me when I, once again, used his first name. Since we met, I’d
held him at arm’s length, not wanting anyone else to be put in danger for
knowing my secrets. We were definitely past that now, and using his first name
on a regular basis was my way of showing him I was ready to let him in. “I
probably won’t ever tell you everything. Some of it is too personal to share,
and some is no longer pertinent.” Mark looked up at this, seeming to disbelieve
my statement.
    

           
He
was right, of course. Everything from my past is what made me how I am now;
distrustful, fearful, secretive, etc. Nothing from my past was irrelevant to my
present, but that didn’t make me more likely to share. “What I’m about to tell
you is something I’ve only willingly shared with eight people in my life. One
of whom is now dead.” I choked a little at this, the guilt over Erin’s death
still eating at me, but I continued. “And two are being held prisoner by a man
who now hunts me. Of the people who have figured out my secret, there are only
two I trust. Several others are in prison or dead. Some by my hand in
self-defense after they tried their absolute best to kill me, and the others
who know about me.”

           
“Why
are you telling me all this, Jason?” Scott asked warily.

           
Meeting
his eyes, I explained, “I want you to know the risk involved in knowing about
me.” Despite my best efforts, my eyes began to burn with tears. “Too many
people have been hurt because of this secret, Scott. I want you to be very sure
you want to be involved before I tell you anything more.”

           
“What
did they do to you?” He was curious, but also a bit wary. I approved of his
caution and decided to show him the risk first hand. Moving slowly I began to
unbutton my shirt, motioning for Mark to help me when my back and shoulders
were too stiff to get the sleeves off. Scott looked on in open sympathy, and
barely restrained rage when the evidence of my injuries was revealed.

           
Unlike
with Mark earlier, when the removal of the shirt was less planned and more
necessary, I felt ashamed of the multitudes of scars marring my body and began
trying to cover them again. Scott’s voice stopped me. “Who’s ‘M’; and please
tell me he is one of the ones you killed.”

           
Trevor
Mason. I killed him after he tortured me, and tried to change me into his
weapon. He was the first I killed. Immediately after he died, I felt he had
deserved to suffer longer. I spent a lot of time wishing I would have made him
struggle in agony for what he did to Erin, Sam, and myself. Even now I
sometimes found myself regretting how quickly he died. Most often now, my
feeling of guilt was for using my powers to kill someone, even if he had
deserved it. Using my powers to kill was easy. Sometimes holding back was the
hard part. Sensing my reluctance to answer, Mark responded for me. “He died
when we came in to rescue Jason.” He told the truth, but only part of it.

           
“Good,”
Scott said. “Anyone who brands another human being doesn’t deserve to live.”
The burn scar tingled, and I rubbed at it self-consciously. I avoided eye
contact with the other men, still feeling awkward about my exposed scars. “How
did you get the bruises and the head injury?” he asked, apparently able to tell
I didn’t want to discuss the older injuries anymore.

           
“Part
of how he got injured is involved in the secret he will share with you, if you
feel it’s worth the risk.” Mark answered for me again.

           
When
the room remained silent for several moments I looked up to see Scott studying
Mark’s face intently. “Was it worth it for you?” he asked finally.

           
Mark
glanced at me quickly before answering, “I was one of those who found out by
accident. He never told me his secret. I discovered it. I also discovered a
young man in desperate need of people he could trust. I wasn’t able to help
much during his recovery, since I was on assignment for the bureau at the time,
but I have never regretted knowing. He’s a good kid, and I can help him better
by knowing his story.”

           
Scott
nodded. “Tell me,” he demanded gently, settling down in a chair across from the
sofa where I sat.

           
Glancing
toward Mark, I began to explain my power. I explained how I would prefer to use
it only for tracking, but circumstances dictated the use of the destructive
power more often than I would have liked. “I can show you, if you want,” I
offered, my shirt back in place over the fresh bruises. “We can go into the
woods out back, and I can show you what I did to the killer. And, I guess, also
what he did to me.”

           
The
story would have only taken a few moments to tell, if I hadn’t stumbled over
the idea of sharing with another person. As it was, it took almost half an hour
to explain that I had the power to track people based on the way they walk, and
the echoes they leave behind. I also told him about my ability to cause
earthquakes, and raise the earth to use as a defensive—and sometimes
offensive—weapon. Yet again I was sharing the fact that I am a dangerous person
with a police officer. Not an easy thing to do, but he never interrupted or
acted like he didn’t believe me.

           
I
did, however, realize he probably wouldn’t fully believe me until he saw my
powers for himself. “When we found Shawn Henderson’s body… there was an
earthquake. That was…” His voice trailed off as he kept his questioning gaze on
me.

           
With
a slight gulp, and a glance down at the floor, I nodded. “Yup. That was me.
Let’s just say I have too much personal experience with slit throats, and leave
it at that, okay?” My tone was slightly more pleading than normal, but I shared
enough for today. Telling Scott about Kindred, and all of the people killed in
my name, was too much.

           
Searching
my face for a moment, he nodded. “Sure,” he said agreeably, but with a hint of
confused anger. Or so it seemed to me.

           
“I
just…” Not sure what to say, I stopped and stared down at my hands which were
clasped in my lap.

           
When
he put a hand on my shoulder, I startled and met his concerned eyes. “It’s
okay, Jason. I know you’ve been through the ringer. If you ever want to talk
about it, I’m willing to listen. You don’t have to share anything if you don’t
want to. I’m perfectly okay with either option.”

           
Scott
was only a couple years older than me, but the way he looked at me was the way
I felt about Sam; like a protective older brother, wanting to shield him from
all the bad things in the world. Not something I was used to having directed at
me from anyone other than Alice, and more recently Mark. “Thank you, Scott.” I
was sincerely thankful for the offer. Although it was doubtful I’d take him up
on it, more information might come out at some point. “Help me up, then we’ll
go into the woods, and I’ll show you exactly what I am capable of.” I meant it.
If we were going to be allies against someone who has similar abilities to
mine, Mark and Scott need to know everything I am capable of. Mostly so I can
do what’s necessary without explaining myself every step of the way.

           
At
least all the things I am aware of that I can do. Over the last few years, my
powers have grown and changed, so it was possible they would continue to change
in the future. Bracing against the pain in my back I stood, leaning on Scott as
he tried to gently help me up. “Thanks,” I muttered while getting my bearings.
My head was spinning, and I had to take a few deep breaths before feeling steady
enough to walk. Even then, I walked near Mark so he could take my weight if I
lost my balance.

           
It
took only a few minutes to get outside, and only a couple more for me to crouch
down with my right hand lightly touching the ground to make sure we were alone.
“No one is nearby, and you both need to relax.”

           
Mark
immediately began taking slower breaths, and his previously fast heartbeat
slowed slightly. Scott just looked at me in confusion, eyes still darting
around the dark woods nervously. “Sorry, Jason. I almost forgot about that,”
Mark said. “No secrets from our friend here,” he added to Scott. “Part of his
ability to read echoes and vibrations through the ground is that he can feel
the beating of our hearts and the breaths we take. I only found that out last
night.”

           
“Can’t
really help it right now. You guys were just attacked out here not that long
ago, so I’m feeling a little on edge right now,” Scott said, still nervous.

           
I
gave an aborted shrug, stopping when the muscles in my back protested the movement.
“Most likely he’ll be hurting tonight too, so I doubt he’s still around.
Besides, I just told you no one else is out here, so I’m going to start.”

           
Not
sure exactly where to begin, I decided to show him the way I first showed Mark.
Both men watched, with the assistance of their flashlights, as I concentrated
and caused the surface dirt about ten feet away from where I crouched, to
scratch away, leaving words behind. When I finished it read: I CAN SEND
MESSAGES.

           
My
friends—it stunned me that I felt comfortable enough to consider both of them
as such—both seemed a bit surprised. “So far, I’ve only tested it from about
five miles away. The further it travels, the longer it takes to reach, but it
does take some time for the message to reach whoever I’m sending it to.”

           
“Uh…
Okay. What kind of distance are you able to cover when it comes to feeling
specific people’s footsteps?” Mark asked. Scott watched silently, waiting for
my answer.

           
An
answer I didn’t really have. “As of a few days ago I would have said about five
miles, but when I found out Sam was missing… let’s just say it was further and
deeper than I’ve been able to reach before. So I don’t have an accurate answer
for you right now.”

           
Lifting
my hand wearily, I asked, “Can we finish this sometime in the next couple days?
I don’t have enough strength to show you anything else tonight.”

           
“Yeah,”
Scott said quickly. He and Mark carefully helped me to my feet. “I have to file
the report on your attack, and on Hannah’s abduction.”

           
Grimacing,
I asked, “Could you maybe skip the attack part? Most of what happened can’t be
put in your report. No one would believe it, and I probably don’t want to meet
the ones who do.” We walked in silence for the few minutes it took to get back
to my house.

           
He
was hesitant to agree, but eventually nodded. “Just the abduction then. For now
I’ll just make a note that our consultant on the case had an altercation with a
suspect. Fair enough?”

           
“Yeah,
fair enough,” I agreed, settling myself on the couch where I decided to sleep that
night. “Have a good night, Scott. And, I probably don’t have to tell you again,
but please don’t tell anyone what I showed you tonight.”

           
He
nodded, but I continued with my warning, “It usually doesn’t end well when
someone I don’t know finds out. And you definitely don’t want that on your
conscience, Scott. Trust me on that one.”

FORTY-SEVEN

Sam

           
Waking
up to the discovery that you’re still a captive is bad enough. Waking and
realizing you have another captive’s foot kicking you in the face is worse.
Nearly jumping out of the bed as I was startled out of sleep, I cast a glare at
the still sleeping Hannah. Not that it was her fault. I was chained to one end
of the bed; she was chained to the other. The only real option for somewhat
comfortable sleeping was for my head to be at the head of the bed and hers to
be at the foot. Movement was inevitable. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant way to
wake up.

           
My
stomach rumbled, wanting more than the minimal amounts of food Hunter allowed
us. I was aware that my weight was already decreasing. If he was hoping for a
good hunt out of me by the end of this, Hunter might be a bit disappointed. It
could come as a surprise when instead of a healthy athletic challenger; he
instead would face a malnourished fourteen-year-old boy. Why he even thought I
would give him a challenge initially, I have no idea. This guy was completely
nuts, and there wasn’t much he did that made sense to me.

           
Hunter’s
obsession with Jason started before he even knew about my brother’s powers, and
I still wasn’t sure how Jase caught his attention. Something about my brother
seemed to attract the crazies, and I hoped someday the trend would stop. So
far, every other person we met with special abilities was bad. Even if Kindred
was only a cold-blooded killer because of Trevor Mason, he was not a good
person when we met. Even I already used my power on Jason to manipulate him,
and, as much as it still sickens me to admit it, the feeling was invigorating.
Some part of me wants to do it again.

           
“You’re
thinking very loudly,” Hannah muttered, her eyes still closed. “What’s wrong?”

           
How
was I supposed to answer that? The power bothering me right now is the one I
haven’t shared with her. It would be hard to explain that I was feeling a
strange urge to mess with my brother’s emotions. Even playing around in
Hunter’s mind, while fun, wasn’t as addictive. “Just worried about Jason.” It
was a safe answer, and one that would satisfy her. “I don’t think he’s had a
decent night’s sleep since Hunter took me. Knowing Jason, he probably wants to
tear down the entire town looking for us. I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be
able follow the rules before he decides to do something desperate.”

           
Eyes
open now, Hannah sat up, folding her legs under her as she stretched. “He isn’t
the most patient of people when someone he cares about is in danger,” she
agreed. “But he is strong and smart. Even if he does go off on his own, it will
be because he has some plan about how to rescue us and stop Hunter.”

           
I
raised an eyebrow at her certainty. “You really believe that? The last couple
times he ran off didn’t exactly go well for him. When Mason had me, and Jason
took off to find me, he was captured within a couple hours. When Kindred was
hunting him and he ran away, he was arrested. Then he almost killed one of
Mason’s former goons at the prison when he was attacked. Not looking so good
for your theory that he always knows what he’s doing, right?”

           
I
wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Hannah’s feelings or her view of Jason, but
reality had to check in. When in turmoil, Jason did not always make the
smartest decisions. Hannah and I both knew it. “I know,” she admitted in a
small voice. “But I didn’t realize you held such a low opinion of him.”

           
Narrowing
my eyes angrily, I snapped. “He’s my brother. Just because I’m aware he makes
mistakes, doesn’t mean I think any less of him. He has been my hero since he
took me away from our father, and
nothing
he does can change that.” My
voice was cold, but at her shocked look I eased up. “I love him, Hannah. I just
know him well enough to know that with us in danger, he doesn’t care about
himself
.”

           
Understanding
dawned, and she pulled me to her for a comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, Sammy,”
she muttered softly. “I should have known you were just worried. We’re in that
boat together, kiddo.”

           
Accepting
her hug, I blinked back the tears that suddenly appeared as I stated my
concerns that Jason would sacrifice himself to save us. Without Jason, I had no
family. The closest thing being the other kids Jason used to protect, and Alice
and Hannah. They are family too, but Jason… well, he’s my brother, and I don’t
even want to imagine life without him. “It’s okay,” Hannah murmured in my ear
over and over again. My tears continued flowing despite my effort to stay
strong.

           
A
sob escaped, and I turned to burrow into the comfort Hannah was offering. This
kind of physical comfort was not something I was accustomed to from anyone
other than Jason. Oddly, I found myself craving the gentle touch. “You’ve been
so brave this whole time.” Her voice was still low, but it had a catch that
told me she was now crying with me. “It’s okay to be scared, Sam. You’ve been
through so much already and you’re only fourteen. You and Jason have always
impressed me with your fortitude.” She was stroking my hair, which was greasy
and matted, but she never judged any of us on physical appearance.

           
She
was one of those rare people who made her judgments based on actions instead of
looks, and looked beyond the outward personality to find the true character of
a person. If she had not been so patient… well, let’s just say Jason wouldn’t
have stood a chance with her. He’d always been a loner, but secretly craved
affection. Until we moved in with Alice and Hannah, he always looked like the
street kid he was. She saw past that, to the person who wanted more out of
life. She and Alice both pushed him to accept the paid position of Confidential
Informant, and he eventually followed their advice to get his PI license.
Although they weren’t aware he followed said advice. They might know now.

           
Part
of what made me accept living away from all of our friends was the thought that
Jason simply wanted to show that he could make something of himself. He never
wanted me to mention his job, or that he was going to get his license. I
thought he wanted to get it, and then go to visit—or move back—and show
everyone he could be more than what he had been.

           
A
part of him always wanted to give up and go back, and I was beginning to
realize why he never wanted to talk to Alice or Hannah on the phone. “He was
afraid you’d talk him into going back,” I said out loud, sitting up away from
Hannah. I wiped my face with the back of my hand to clear the tears, which now
stopped flowing.

           
“What?”

           
“The
reason Jason didn’t want to talk to you these last two years. He wanted to
accomplish his goal, and prove—to himself or you guys—that he could become more
than a street kid. He wanted to get his PI license without help. I think he was
afraid that if he talked to you, he would give up on his goal and go back
home.”

           
Strange
that it took me two years to figure out my brother’s reason for not talking to
the only other people we could call family. Like I told Hannah, his emotions
were so confusing to me on the subject. Only now, when my ability was stretched
to the limit, was I able to unravel his reasoning. After mulling it over for a
few moments Hannah snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like something he’d do. He would
never for a moment consider that if he told us what he was doing, we would
support him in it and
not
push for
him to move back home until he was done.”

           
“Hold
that thought.” I held up a hand to silence her. Closing my eyes, I was hit by a
strong wave of emotions. Fear and anger so strong I physically rocked back on
the bed, and put my hands to my head in a futile attempt to block it out.
“Something is happening,” I heard myself say.

           
“With
Jason or Hunter?” Hannah’s voice sounded far away as I lost myself in the
raging sea of emotion.

           
“Both.”