by Lauren Algeo
Her mum grabbed the open bottle of vodka from the table next to the sofa. She took a swig straight from the bottle.
‘You disgust me,’ she snarled with vodka dribbling out of her mouth. ‘I can’t look at you. I want you out of this house!’
‘But I need your help mum!’ Georgie wailed as tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Where would I go? I’m fourteen and I’m pregnant!’
‘I don’t care!’ her mum snapped, taking another gulp of neat vodka. ‘I don’t want thieving whores in my house! Get your stuff and get out!’
‘You can’t…’ Georgie started.
‘Get out!’ her mum screamed. She hurled the bottle of vodka and it shattered against the fireplace behind her.
Georgie took in one last image of her mother. The black mascara tracks down her cheeks, the smudged lipstick, and drunken wild eyes. Her mum’s blond hair was sticking out in clumps and she was wearing one of Nick’s t-shirts with tatty jeans. Georgie knew she had chosen his side and she would never accept the truth.
She walked out of the living room, leaving her snivelling mother to find a new bottle of alcohol to sedate her. Although she was sobbing hard, Georgie felt a strange sense of calm inside. She had felt like she was on her own for a long time, now she truly was.
She hauled herself up the stairs on wobbly legs and collapsed on her bed, with the door firmly closed behind her. She would have to take care of herself.
Georgie lay there for a while, until she felt in control of her body again, then she took the small suitcase from the top of her wardrobe and began to pack. A lot of her clothes no longer fitted her after the weight loss so it didn’t take long. She packed a couple of books, her iPod, and some toiletries. Her life was summed up in one bag. She tucked a small, tatty teddy bear down the side of the suitcase. Her dad had bought it for her years ago and she couldn’t bear to leave it behind.
She dug out her savings account card and forms from her desk drawer. Her dad had put a couple of thousand pounds in there throughout her life for her future, and she could withdraw it herself when she eighteen, or try to forge her mum’s signature before then.
Lastly, she unpinned the photo of her, dad and mum from the dressing table and put it in her jeans pocket. It was of them standing with their arms around each other in their sunny garden, during one of the happier times.
She dressed warmly, even though it was an August evening, in jeans, a t-shirt and a cardigan. The British summer was always unpredictable. She put on her converse trainers and added a thick jumper to the suitcase. She didn’t know where she would be sleeping that night and it could get cold.
Georgie took one final look around her room. She felt no sense of regret at leaving it behind. This was where her virginity had been brutally taken from her. Where she had lost the last of her innocence. In fact, the entire house no longer held any happy memories for her. She picked up the case and set it down on its wheels, however it was light so she could carry it if needed. She went down the stairs and headed straight for the front door.
She could hear her mum wailing and moaning in the front room. There was no need for Georgie to go back in there to say goodbye – that woman was not her mother. She had turned her back when Georgie needed her most and she never wanted to see her again. She would instead choose to believe that her mum had died in that car crash along with her dad.
In a way, that was true – the mother Georgie had known and loved did die on that fateful day. She had never been the same since. It was as though her mum had stopped caring when they’d lost dad.
At least Nick was out that night so she would never have to see him again. Georgie walked from the house of nightmares with her head high. She would do something with her life now that she was free. She would make her dad proud of her.
Chapter 11
Georgie talked long into the night and Brewer listened with growing anger. His hands balled into fists as she recounted the abuse she’d suffered from Nick; the rape, and how her mum hadn’t believed her. The bottle of Jack Daniels on the table emptied steadily.
‘I stuck around the area long enough to have an abortion, then I headed for central London to try and earn some money.’ Georgie spoke with no emotion now, as if these horrible facts were perfectly normal. ‘Being on the street was harder than I thought. There was no room in most of the free shelters and begging didn’t get me much money. I was cold and hungry, and I stupidly fell for some guy’s lies that he could help me. Before I knew it, I owed him money and the only way I could get out of it was to sleep with men to pay off my debt to him. What a cliché!’
She took another gulp of her drink. ‘It had been his plan all along only I was too gullible at the start to realise it. I thought he liked me but he was just another man using me. At least I avoided drugs so that was one thing he never had over me. He did try to get me hooked on something so I’d be easier to control, made me inject myself with heroin a few times but I stopped it. I hated the feeling.’
She stroked subconsciously at her wrist and Brewer noticed a small, scriptive ‘G’ tattooed there. Georgie caught him looking and held up her arm.
‘My dad was called Gary,’ she explained. ‘I had this tattooed to remind me that I could keep a tiny bit of my dignity, even if I was no longer in control of my body.’
Brewer nodded as though he understood yet he could only imagine what she’d been through in her short life.
‘Anyway, I’d been hiding out in Clapham for a couple of days when the hiker found me… I guess you know the rest.’ She paused for a beat then sat up straighter. ‘I’m hungry,’ she announced.
Brewer heated up ready meals from the freezer for them both and they ate in silence. Georgie seemed exhausted from the experience of sharing her life. Her eyelids were starting to droop and she was slouching further and further down the sofa. He wanted to ask a couple more questions before she went to sleep.
‘Georgie, is this really what you want from life? To learn how to track hikers? There are other options. I have some money – I could loan you enough to get you set up in a decent life and you could pay me back when you can.’
Georgie thought about it. She didn’t want to be in anyone else’s debt, although he didn’t exactly seem like the last man she’d trusted. Did she want to take a chance and try to turn her life around, or did she want to pursue a crazy life like his? Her head weighed up the advantages of living a normal, decent life but in her heart she had already chosen. She looked Brewer straight in the eyes.
‘I want to learn everything you can teach me about hikers, and I want to find a way for us to kill them.’
Brewer nodded slowly. He hadn’t really expected her to say anything else. ‘Then we better get some sleep,’ he said. ‘Lessons start tomorrow.’
Georgie slept in his bedroom again and Brewer stretched out on the sofa with a spare duvet from the airing cupboard. Sleep took a while to come. His mind went back over the day’s events. He was still shaken up about the fact it had been his hiker who had controlled Georgie. If they could find another way to kill them, he wanted to go after that hiker first.
The idea of having Georgie tagging along for the foreseeable future was a strange one. He had been working alone for so long. He had a feeling Karen would have wanted him to look after her. She would always cry at terrible stories like Georgie’s on TV documentaries and ask why no one had helped the poor child who was being neglected, or abused, or beaten.
Brewer took out the photo of him and Karen from his wallet and looked at their smiling faces for a few moments. They had always planned to have children one day; perhaps Georgie could be like a surrogate daughter.
He fell asleep with the image of Karen’s beautiful face in his mind, but he didn’t dream.
The next morning, Georgie was up before him. He awoke with a start to the sound of the kettle boiling.
‘Morning,’ she called from the kitchen area as she rummaged through his cupboards.
Brewer sat up slowly, trying to loos
en his stiff back. There was a twinge down his right side as he straightened up and his arms still felt achy from the day before.
‘Morning,’ he mumbled back groggily.
He glanced at the clock under the TV and saw that it was 8am. He hadn’t slept in this long for a while. Georgie appeared to have showered already and she was dressed in jeans and another of the jumpers he had bought her. This time, a light beige colour that contrasted with her red hair.
‘Where’s all your food?’ Georgie asked from behind the fridge door. ‘There’s only frozen ready meals left.’
‘I told you, I’m not here very often.’ Brewer finally prised himself off the sofa. ‘We can go shopping, I guess we’re going to be here for a while.’
‘What do you mean? Aren’t we going looking for hikers so I can learn?’
Brewer had to laugh at her eagerness. ‘Eventually yes, but first the teaching begins here.’ He pointed to the overflowing bookcase. ‘With that.’
Georgie took in the volume of books, research pads and random stacks of papers and groaned. ‘It’ll be like school!’
‘From what you told me, you had good grades at school so you’ll have no problem with some studying.’
‘Fine,’ Georgie sighed. ‘But we need supplies first. I can’t read through all that on an empty stomach.’
‘Ok, let me shower and we can go to the supermarket.’ He felt like a father already.
He had a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles and dried himself quickly. He was walking down the hallway to the bedroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist, when the doorbell rang. He stopped, confused. No one ever rang his doorbell, especially not early in the morning. Perhaps it was the postman or something.
Brewer opened the door cautiously, half expecting to see the hiker from yesterday standing there, however Marcus’s friendly face greeted him instead.
‘Morning mate,’ Marcus grinned as he took in Brewer’s damp hair and towel. ‘Sorry to get you out of the shower.’
‘It’s ok, I was already out,’ Brewer replied.
Marcus was dressed in jeans and a casual red t-shirt so he wasn’t on his way to work.
‘Can I come in?’ Marcus asked, already moving towards the space between Brewer and the doorframe.
‘Umm,’ Brewer stuttered, panicking about how to explain Georgie.
She chose that moment to nosily poke her head out of the living room to see who was at the door. Marcus spied her behind Brewer and his steps faltered.
‘Oh, sorry mate… I uh, didn’t know you had company,’ he said, embarrassed.
‘It’s not like that,’ Brewer started awkwardly. ‘This is my um, cousin’s daughter, Georgie. She’s staying for a couple of days. Georgie, this is Marcus.’
‘Hi,’ Marcus called to her.
Georgie nodded a greeting and retreated back into the main room. Marcus gave him a curious look, clearly trying to remember how many cousins Brewer had, and whether any of them had daughters that age. Brewer tried to cover over it.
‘So what brings you here?’ he asked. ‘Something to do with the Rankin case?’
‘No, he’s been charged so that’s all desk work until the court case,’ Marcus replied. ‘I actually came to invite you to dinner at ours tomorrow afternoon, if you’re free? I was going to call but I was passing so thought I’d drop by. It would be good to spend a bit of time with you.’
‘Sounds good,’ Brewer smiled. He hadn’t been to their house in the last couple of years and he did miss them.
‘Great!’ Marcus beamed. ‘It’s nothing fancy; we’re going to BBQ. It’s looking like this will be the last warmish weekend for a while… your cousin’s daughter is welcome to come too,’ he added quickly.
Brewer hesitated. Could he risk taking Georgie along with him? Then again, it would probably do her good to be around some functional people for a while.
‘Sure, if that’s ok?’ he asked. ‘What time do you want us?’
‘About 3pm ok?’ Marcus replied. ‘Ella has swimming on a Saturday lunchtime but they’ll easily be back by early afternoon.’
‘Sounds perfect, I’ll bring some beers.’
‘Ok then.’ Marcus started to back away from the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Brewer watched his old friend disappear down the steps then closed the front door.
‘We’ve got dinner plans for tomorrow. We’re going to a BBQ,’ he told Georgie as he walked into the living room.
‘That’s great,’ she replied haughtily from the kitchen. ‘But what are we going to eat before then?’
They went to the local supermarket and bought enough to fill Brewer’s fridge and cupboards. He found it quite sweet watching Georgie load the trolley with food that she clearly hadn’t been able to eat for a while.
‘Can we get this?’ she’d ask every couple of items. ‘Have we got enough money for these?’
He would nod every time and her face would break into a wide grin.
When they were back at the flat, and the shopping was unpacked, Georgie wandered over to the bookcase. She tilted her head and scanned along the spines.
‘There are a lot of horror books here.’
‘You don’t think hikers fit into the horror genre?’ Brewer challenged.
‘I haven’t actually seen one,’ she replied. ‘But from what you said, they look human. I always think of horror as more like scary monsters and ghosts.’
‘A lot of the horror genre appears quite human. Vampires walk among humans; demons can possess people and take human form. There are hundreds of urban legends from different countries – witches, werewolves, shape shifters, they all took on human form.’
‘I guess so,’ she said. ‘I’ve never really looked into it much.’
‘Well, now’s the time,’ Brewer said. ‘Look for any similarities with hikers, anything that could potentially be used to kill them. I can let you know if I’ve already tried it.’
Georgie nodded and pulled out a thick book on mythology. Before she left the bookcase, her hand hovered over a thin volume at the end of the shelf.
‘Why do you have this one?’ she asked, showing Brewer the cover of a book on scientific experiments performed on people over the years.
‘Another theory,’ Brewer told her. ‘Maybe hikers are human and their powerful mental ability is actually the result of some scientific experiment.’
‘That wouldn’t explain the ability they have to heal themselves though,’ she said.
‘True,’ he replied. ‘I’ve tried to look at a lot of theories and none of them really fit one hundred percent. I’d like to know what you think when you’ve done some research.’
Georgie sat on the sofa with the mythology book and settled in to do some reading. Brewer slumped in the armchair and started up the laptop to do some research of his own.
Georgie gave him a curious glance. ‘What do you look up on there?’
‘Everything. I read through news websites from different counties to try and find any hiker activity. I research people I think might be victims of hikers. Sometimes I trawl through blogs trying to look for any clues that other people know about hikers.’
‘Do you think other people hunt them too?’ Georgie asked eagerly.
‘Maybe,’ Brewer shrugged. ‘I haven’t found anyone yet but I’ve only really been concentrating on Britain. There could be other hunters somewhere else in the world.’
Georgie’s eyes widened. ‘You think there are hikers all over the world? What are they like in other countries?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Brewer said honestly. ‘I haven’t been abroad since I started tracking them. It’s too dangerous.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I feel much safer down here on the ground, instead of trapped with a hiker 35,000 feet in the air. Believe me, they’ve caused plane crashes before and I wouldn’t want to find out that one was onboard when it was too late. At least with a train you can get off at the next station or pull the emergency stop h
andle if you need to.’
‘Seriously, they’ve caused plane crashes?’ Georgie asked. ‘What, like 9/11 or something?’
‘There are conspiracy theories on some websites but I don’t know if I believe that one,’ he shrugged again. ‘Some people don’t need the push of a hiker, they’re just crazy bastards.’
Georgie looked thoughtful for a moment and Brewer wondered if she was thinking of all the sick people she’d encountered in her life. She turned her attention back to the open book on her lap without commenting.
The day passed like that – Georgie skimming through books, curled up on the sofa, and Brewer skimming over websites. News was slow that day and he read nothing that jumped out as a potential hiker incident. He found himself wondering where his hiker was now. Would it still be angry that he had interrupted its killing of Georgie, or would it be distracted by a new assignment?
They ate in the flat. Brewer made them sandwiches for lunch and Georgie cooked them a pasta bake for dinner. In the evening, Brewer flicked on the TV and they watched some news for a while. There was a recap on the shootings from a couple of days ago with the confirmation again that Rankin had been charged. This time, there were some tearful stories from relatives of the victims, and a brief interview with one of the women who was injured during the attack.
Georgie watched solemnly. She knew she should be dead now and she knew that there would have been no coverage about her. No grieving family members to recount what a kind, clever, some-other-nice-adjective, girl she was. She doubted her mum would have shed so much as a tear when the police eventually knocked on her door.
Georgie took a sideways glance at Brewer. This man had saved her when he had no reason to. He seemed to be a caring, decent guy. She’d been suspicious of his intentions towards her when she had come back to the flat with him – she’d met plenty of men his age that wanted to sleep with her – but she saw no lust in his eyes. Nothing in his body language or actions so far gave any indication that he wanted anything other than to help her. He’d even bought her some warm winter clothes.
He reminded her a bit of her dad, with his quiet strength. Oddly for her, she trusted him instantly. Brewer was someone she would be safe with.