“Thanks for coming to my office and telling me what you were up to. However I was already keeping a close eye on you after we met at that auction. You appealed to me immediately.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You had no idea I was there, watching you.”
“Impossible, I would have seen you,” retorted Ryan.
“But you didn’t because I’m good at this, practiced, a true hunter.”
Ryan frowned. This was a different man to the one he’d spoken to in a nice, civilised fashion in a nice, civilised office. He was a cold, detached creature, reptilian, empty.
“I took them all,” continued Gerard. “I killed them and watched the blood pump out of them before gutting them and taking my trophies.”
“I’ve been abducted by a serial killer?” Ryan sighed and shook his head. “Oh dear, how embarrassing.”
The fat man’s cool, superior attitude slipped. “Is that all you’ve got to say? How embarrassing,” he said, mimicking Ryan’s posh Cambridge accent.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Well, you could at least look scared.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, his laser beam stare boring into the man. “I do not get scared.”
The man shuffled uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to this. He was used to his victims crying and begging him not to hurt them, that was when he felt powerful, strong. This man was chained up, unable to fight, but he still made him feel like a lesser human being and that made him angry. “You will. You’ll experience fear and pain you didn’t know possible. In here you will call me Orion, that is my true name,” he announced dramatically.
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Orion as in the hunter in Greek mythology?”
Orion nodded grandly.
“That’s what you do, hunt?”
“Yes but a much bigger game. Any fool can kill a bird or a deer but it takes another kind of creature entirely to hunt humans.”
“I suppose Orion was the only name you could really take, wasn’t it? Diana and Artemis are both women, so you really couldn’t call yourself after a girl. Broteas was supposedly an ugly bastard. Of course there was Ipabog, the Danish demi-god, but the name doesn’t really inspire fear, does it? But what about poor Heracles Kyngidas from Macedonian mythology or Mixcoatl from the Mesoamerican cultures? What did they do to deserve to be overlooked?
Orion blinked at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Hunters from mythology. I thought you would have considered them all before choosing your name.”
“Never mind my bloody name. You don’t seem to understand, we’re going to kill you.”
“You’ll try but you’ll fail,” Ryan replied dismissively. “Anyway, who’s this we?”
“Not so smart. You missed one?”
“Who?”
“Actaeon,” he said, indicating the door with a sweep of the arm.
Ryan watched as a second man stepped into the room, one he’d never met before wearing the same outfit Kerrell sported only it fit him much better. He was taller and much more powerful-looking than Orion, more muscle than fat, although he was older. Ryan placed him in his mid fifties. His face was red and ruddy from spending a lot of time outdoors, huge hands heavily calloused. He looked much more intimidating than Orion but Ryan wasn’t one to let himself be intimidated.
“So here’s the second Greek god,” said Ryan sarcastically. “You’re working as a pair.” He eyed their camouflage gear. “Despite the outfits you’re not army, there’s no way Orion here would have passed the fitness tests,” he said, causing him to scowl. “This room looks like a shed and I’ve heard nothing outside, no cars, no voices, so we’re in the middle of nowhere. Orion here’s a local boy and I’m guessing you are too Actaeon, which means we’re not far, probably somewhere on Dartmoor. Am I right?”
“Dartmoor Forest to be precise and it’s not a shed, it’s our hide, that’s what we call it. It’s where we can be our true selves,” snapped Actaeon. He studied Ryan thoughtfully, assessing him. “You’re very clever aren’t you? But not clever enough otherwise you wouldn’t be here, chained up.”
“Ambushing someone with a tranquiliser gun the moment they step outside is hardly the height of cunning,” he replied haughtily.
“I beg to differ. We’ve been getting away with this for years and no one’s any the wiser.”
“The police are onto you and it’s only a matter of time before they find this place. Your sick games are over.”
“I don’t think so. The police don’t have a clue. Neither do those fucking orangutans you were working with to try and find us. This is where you’re going to die,” he said, spreading his hands wide to indicate the room. “Do you like it? I created it myself. It’s an old maintenance shed, been here for years. Everyone forgot about it, but I didn’t. I adapted it for our purposes, made it more comfortable. I’ve been a Dartmoor ranger a long time and no one knows this land like me. You won’t die in here exactly. Your death will come outside with the wind on your face and the moon shining down on you as we gut you while you’re still alive and able to feel, gutted like an animal.”
“Daniel Tebbs worked as a ranger,” said Ryan.
“Briefly. I helped train him up. I saw his potential immediately.”
Ryan thought of the bullet wound in Daniel’s head and took in their camouflage gear. “Potential for what? To be run down and hunted like game, is that what you’re doing here?”
Actaeon nodded, puffing up with pride.
“And how do you select your victims?”
“You sound genuinely interested.”
“I am.”
“I bet you’ve never encountered specimens like us before? Living, breathing gods?”
“On the contrary I’ve met lots of dirty little murderers with god complexes but they all killed for a reason, usually business. Not because they enjoyed it.” He thought of Frankie McVay. “Well, apart from one. He killed people for the fun of it and cut bits off them to mount on his trophy wall, just like you. Do you want to know what happened to him?”
“I can’t wait to hear,” said Actaeon flatly.
“I killed him,” snarled Ryan.
Actaeon released a loud clap of laughter and looked to Orion, who laughed along with him, although he didn’t seem to understand what the joke was.
“You see what we have here Orion?” boomed Actaeon. “We’ve caught ourselves a fellow hunter. This is going to be the best fucking hunt ever. At last, a real challenge.” Abruptly he stopped laughing and tilted his head to one side, pushing his baseball cap back off his forehead. “You can’t be much of a hunter if you let yourself get caught so easily.”
“The tranquiliser rifle hidden in the bushes tipped the balance in your favour,” retorted Ryan. “Remove the chains and I’ll take you both on at once, without weapons. Then let’s see who ends up unconscious on the floor.”
“See, I was right,” Actaeon grinned at Orion. When he turned back to Ryan his smile fell. “But you’re getting a bit too mouthy for my liking. Prey should be quiet and quivering, awaiting their inevitable death.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“That is bad behaviour. You will control yourself. On your feet.”
“No.”
“On your feet,” Actaeon bellowed in his face.
Ryan’s lips curled contemptuously. “No.”
When a roar of rage ripped from Actaeon’s throat and he kicked a bucket across the room, Ryan laughed.
“You think this is funny?” yelled Orion.
“I find you both ridiculous, preening creatures. Inadequate rodents pretending to be lions.”
Incensed, Orion drew back his arm to strike him. Ryan lifted his chin in challenge, eyes mocking.
Actaeon stopped his partner. “No. We need our prey fighting fit otherwise there’s no fun in the chase. There are other ways to subdue him.”
Orion nodded and took a deep breath, the folds of his flesh wobbling. “Sorry.”
“It’s alrig
ht old friend. Go to the corner and watch and learn.”
Obediently Orion nodded and moved to the corner of the room, standing beneath the pair of severed hands, the fingers splayed out, making them look like bizarre fans.
“Your wife is very lovely Ryan,” began Actaeon, pacing back and forth. “How would you like us to hunt her too?”
The chains clanked loudly as Ryan’s muscles tensed, yanking them so hard the cuffs dug into the flesh of his arms. “You’ll fucking leave her alone,” he roared.
“We could kill her quickly,” he continued. “A crossbow bolt to the head. That would be quite entertaining, but it wouldn’t really satisfy our hunting instincts. We could shoot her with the tranquiliser gun like we did you, bring her here and let her loose on the moor, that’s after we took turns raping her right in front of you.”
For the first time Ryan felt really scared. The lascivious smile Orion gave made him sick to his stomach.
“My friend here has been keen to taste her after he watched you fucking like animals on your kitchen table,” added Actaeon.
“So you’re not the big hunters after all?” Ryan spat, struggling to keep his voice even and measured. “You’re just cowards who like hurting women. Where’s the sport in that?”
“We’ve done our research and we know your wife is no ordinary woman. She’s a murderess, a gang boss as well as a woman more than capable of holding her own in a fight. She’s fair game. But your two boys, now they’re a different matter.”
“You’ll leave my kids alone.”
“I would be content to, as long as you behave yourself. But should you continue to misbehave and be a general smart arse then I will take them and leave them on the moor. I won’t bother to hunt them, far too small. They’d die of exposure long before anyone found them. I wouldn’t touch your daughter though. No, I’d leave her alive with no parents and no brothers, all alone.”
Ryan’s chest heaved with anger and he thought he might throw up. His mind frantically worked. Rachel and his kids would be well protected. Battler and Bruiser would be looking after them. Rachel would have called Mikey and Jez, they’d be down here already, they’d be keeping them all safe. These creeps wouldn’t get their hands on them, but he wasn’t about to take the chance. “Alright, you win. I’ll play your game as long as you leave them alone.”
“Good Prey, I knew you’d see sense,” said Actaeon, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now, you need to keep up your strength. You need to eat.”
Ryan watched suspiciously as he walked over to what turned out to be a fridge and removed a plate of food with some cling film over it. He threw the collection of green beans and meat into a small frying pan, which he put on the camping stove. The delicious smell from the cooking food making Ryan’s mouth water. When it was done Actaeon placed the meat, which had turned grey during the cooking process, onto a plate and proceeded to slice it into delicate medallions then added the green beans.
The plate was placed on the floor before Ryan, who had to sit cross-legged to eat. Actaeon handed him a plastic knife and fork and there was just enough give in the chains to allow him to raise the cutlery to his lips.
Just as he was about to put some of the meat into his mouth Ryan hesitated, the eager way Actaeon and Orion were watching disturbing him. He looked around at the animal’s heads on the walls. Hunters often consumed what they killed. When his eyes settled on the hands on the wall he dropped the cutlery and kicked the plate away, scattering the meat and vegetables all over the floor.
“You sick bastards, you fucking sick bastards. Who is that?” he yelled, gesturing at the meat.
“John Owen. Young flesh, nice and tender,” said Actaeon, rolling the words around his mouth, savouring them.
“You’re fucking cannibals,” he exclaimed, appalled. Not even Frankie McVay would have gone that far. This was the most fucked up thing that had ever happened to him and that was going up against some pretty stiff competition. “I’m not eating it.”
“Oh dear,” said Actaeon. “In that case we’ll have to take the issue up with your wife.”
“No, leave her alone,” he bellowed, getting to his feet, frantically yanking against the chains.
“I warned you but you decided to ignore me.” Actaeon unlocked the metal cabinet, removed the tranquiliser rifle and slung it over his shoulder. “You’ll be reunited soon.”
“No don’t, I’ll eat it,” said Ryan desperately.
“Too little too late. You had your chance Prey and we don’t give second chances.”
“Actaeon, get back here,” Ryan roared as he and Orion left, both looking intolerably smug. “Come back.”
But they disappeared through the wooden door set into the wall on Ryan’s right. He listened to the sound of them locking it behind them. Then followed footsteps ascending. There was obviously a staircase through there. The sound was dull, wood again. That explained his bruised back, they’d probably struggled getting him down here, bouncing him off each step.
“Fuck,” he spat, kicking the wall. All he could do was stand there helplessly as those freaks went after Rachel. But they wouldn’t get near her he reasoned, no way. She’d be well guarded, the family would have made sure of that. As soon as she’d realised he was missing she would have called them all together. His girl was smart. Still, if she did think he’d been kidnapped by a pair of serial killers she might not consider she was in danger, after all they targeted men.
Ryan screwed his eyes tight shut in an effort to calm down. Standing here was doing no one any good, he had to escape.
He knelt down to examine his chains. Solid metal bolted to the floor. There wasn’t an ounce of give in them. Instead he turned his attention to the metal cuffs on his wrists. Same again, absolutely solid. These guys knew what they were doing.
There were tools and weapons all around the hide that might have helped him escape but no matter how hard he strained he couldn’t reach any of them, the cuffs biting into the flesh of his wrists until he started to bleed, the skin torn and painful.
He sank to his knees, the sense of helplessness unbearable. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he yelled to the empty room. Never in all his life had anyone got the better of him like this and now he’d been completely subdued by two flesh-eating loony tunes. He glanced at the meat on the floor which, at first sight, had been so appealing to him. The mortal remains of John Owen, he couldn’t get his head round it.
“Rachel, you’d better be protected. Please,” he whispered.
CHAPTER 21
“Jesus, you stink,” frowned Jez.
Mikey stood before him, arms held out at his sides, expensive shoes and trousers dripping with manure. “I slipped in a fucking cow pat. The place is full of them.”
“How come we keep ending up on farms?” said Jez, thinking of the setting for their final showdown with Alex.
“Don’t know but I never want to go near one again. Dirty, nasty, smelly places. Look at my suit, it’s Armani. Did you just fucking laugh?” scowled Mikey.
“You’d have done the same if it was me.”
“True,” he was forced to admit. “This is a waste of time, Ryan’s not here.”
“I think you’re right. We’ve checked every outbuilding as well as the house and the family will be back soon. Let’s do one so you can take a bath.”
“Rachel won’t be happy about me getting in her Mercedes covered in cow shit.”
“Walk back then,” said Jez.
Mikey thought twice. “She’ll understand.”
When they arrived at the car Jez turned to look back up the road to the Marsh’s farm. “I thought we might find him there, it’s perfect for stashing a hostage.”
“Rachel said she didn’t really believe they had him, but we had to check.”
“Do you think this is a waste of time?” said Jez anxiously. “What if he’s in Essex and we’re arsing about here?”
“If he is there then our men will find him.” They jumped into the car, Mikey cringing
as he made a loud squelching sound, grinding the manure into the expensive upholstery. “Thank God the seats are leather.”
As they set off back to Rachel’s house, Mikey driving, Jez’s phone rang. “It’s Grant,” he said before answering. “Yeah?”
He nodded then repeated what Grant told him to Mikey. “They’ve been watching the Slatterys and Katia. No sign of Ryan but Jared did take a flight to Manchester.”
“Bastard,” yelled Mikey, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel, cracking the plastic in the centre. “Oh shit.”
“He doesn’t know what he was doing in Manchester, he was only gone a few hours. He’s back already.”
“He couldn’t have been abducting Ryan from Devon if he was in Manchester,” said Jez.
“Unless he got someone else to do it?” said Mikey.
“Grant says all his men were in Essex. It doesn’t look like it’s them. They’ve got Katia in their sights. Do we want them to take her out?”
Mikey sighed. He’d wanted to do things subtlety but this was a good chance. “I think we should do it, but no weapons. Try and make it look like an accident.”
Jez nodded, thought for a moment then relayed his orders. Mikey smiled. His plan was a good one.
Rachel screwed her nose up when Jez and Mikey walked into her kitchen, entering via the back door so they wouldn’t tramp mud everywhere.
“Find anything?” she said.
Mikey hated the hope in her eyes because he knew he was about to destroy it. “Sorry Rach, no sign of him. We looked everywhere.”
“Oh well, I didn’t think he really would be up there. What is that smell?”
“Mikey fell in cow shit,” said Jez.
“Upstairs for a bath right now before you stink the whole house out. You can borrow some of Ryan’s clothes then give me your clothes and I’ll put them through the wash.”
“Okay.” He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “Your car’s going to need a good valet and I’m sorry but I cracked the plastic on the steering wheel, I’ll pay you for the damage.”
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