Hikers - The Collection (Complete Box Set of 5 Books)

by Lauren Algeo

  ‘You have met… Celiah before.’ The Grand rasped out loud.

  An image of Georgie’s dirty bomb flashed up in their minds. She had been the hiker who’d evaded it, unharmed.

  How? Brewer wondered in his head.

  The Grand gave a wheezing chuckle. ‘Celiah is very… special.’

  He gave her an appreciative look. ‘She can skim over the surface of people’s minds… without them knowing she was ever there. Like she did with you this afternoon… in the woods.’

  The knot twisted painfully in Brewer’s stomach. This hiker had been monitoring them the whole time – picking up on their plans before they had even acted on them.

  His eyes darted around the room, scanning for any way out of this. The room was large, with a burgundy, patterned carpet and cream walls. The ceiling was tall and had an ornate chandelier hanging in the middle. It was a bedroom, with a four-poster in the corner but, judging from the dust on the spread, it was never used. The rest of the furniture in the room was made of ugly, dark wood. There was a heavy-looking wardrobe, chest of drawers, and dresser sparsely dotted around. He couldn’t see another way out.

  The sound of footsteps in the foyer drifted up to them. Brewer stood rigidly on the spot until the other hikers in the house came into the bedroom and walked into view. There were two male hikers and they were both dressed traditionally in light shirts and dark trousers. The Grand nodded towards one of them.

  ‘You did well… to let them past, Louis.’

  He felt Georgie bristle with rage beside him. They had known all along that they were inside the house. This was all a game to the Grand. He’d wanted to let them carry out their plans and make them come to him; walk right into his trap.

  Brewer wondered how far away the tranquiliser gun was and whether the Grand would lapse enough for him to try and retrieve it.

  The Grand gazed at him with dull grey eyes, the black temporarily muted.

  ‘Your disease is no good to you here,’ he told Brewer.

  He nodded to the gathered hikers and one of his sons left briefly to dispatch of the gun. He would not be letting any more of his children die at the hands of these hunters.

  ‘I want to know… everything about you,’ the Grand said in a sinister tone.

  He advanced towards them menacingly and stood inches from Brewer’s face. He was still tall for such an old man and his eye level was only slightly below Brewer’s.

  ‘What drives you? What makes you… tick?’

  Brewer felt his gnarled fingers probing at his mind. He tried to block them out but the Grand was incessant.

  ‘Ah,’ he muttered as he uncovered some of the secrets of Brewer’s past. ‘You were a vessel before… yet you evaded Greiger. How?’

  Brewer kept his lips firmly closed and tried to shut his mind too. The Grand was delving into the deepest part of his memories; a part he had always managed to keep buried from other hikers.

  A vivid image of Karen’s smiling face flashed up in his head. Brewer whimpered at the sight and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. The Grand had found her.

  He gave a barking laugh.

  ‘She won’t save you this time,’ he mocked cruelly.

  He now knew Brewer’s darkest pain. The Grand retreated from his mind and turned his attention to Georgie.

  ‘What about you, dear?’ he taunted.

  Georgie stared back at him defiantly. She had somehow felt a second-hand jolt of pain from Brewer when the Grand had located Karen in his mind. She didn’t want to feel that acute agony and share it with Brewer if he found her sordid past. She pushed the Grand out fiercely and he raised his eyebrows at her.

  ‘Feisty one, aren’t you?’ His voice was dripping with amusement. ‘Didn’t your mother ever teach you… it’s not nice to tease?’

  Georgie didn’t know if he’d found that phrase in her head or if he’d just spoken it himself but she felt a painful shock at the words. Visions of Nick from that first night in the bedroom threatened to swamp her conscious. The night her innocence had been cruelly taken from her. The Grand saw her internal struggle and leered with delight. She felt him slip through her resolve with ease.

  ‘Something I said?’ He stepped closer to her and leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear. ‘I want a taste of the terror he made you feel.’

  All of a sudden it was as if Georgie was back there. A frightened, chubby teenager lying in her bed with no one to help her. She could feel the weight of Nick’s body pinning her down, smell the foul stench of stale alcohol on his breath. The sense of horror was overwhelming. She wanted to run away but her body refused to move.

  The Grand stepped back and the memories of that night faded rapidly. Georgie tried to hold his gaze, as she had done a moment ago, only her bottom lip was quivering now and she knew how wild her eyes would look. He could break their willpower so easily. Their own nightmares were more than enough to paralyse them.

  She wanted to find some comfort in Brewer’s face but he was standing too far out of her eye line and she couldn’t turn her head. She could hear his shallow breathing and wondered if he had picked up any of her visions.

  ‘I see you are both… perfectly damaged.’ The Grand smirked as Brewer glared back at him. ‘It’s a shame Greiger didn’t make use of you… you had the potential for some explosive kills.’

  The Grand walked in a lazy circle around them, his voice drifting in and out as he passed behind.

  ‘Some of your plans… were fairly decent. The bomb was clever… however not enough for one of us.’

  ‘What are you?’ Brewer managed to spit out.

  Georgie was surprised by the sound of his voice. How had he overpowered the Grand enough to speak?

  ‘We’re a genetically superior family.’ The Grand stopped in front of them again. ‘I was born a boy… just like you. I had parents, unfortunately… deceased… but I had an extraordinary gift, one that I could pass on to future generations. How? I’m not certain… but my children inherited my power. Some more than others.’

  He gave another approving nod towards Celiah. The other two hikers were standing stiffly at the side of the room, waiting for instructions. Brewer didn’t like the way one of the males, Louis the Grand had called him, was staring at them. Like he was starving and they were pieces of meat.

  ‘I underestimated you.’ The Grand carried on rasping. ‘I did not expect you… to come to me. Yet, here you are. You planned to kill me… with your disease?’

  He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked gently on his heels.

  ‘Forgive me… but how did you expect to evade my children after?’

  He made another assault into Brewer’s memories to find his own answers. Brewer saw images of the night he’d seen the hiker die at the will of the Grand. He could hear a faint buzzing sound, as though the memory still held the noise that had killed that hiker.

  The Grand’s face darkened. ‘You have been watching… for some time. I can indeed… kill my children if needed.’

  And if you couldn’t help it, Brewer thought.

  The Grand’s head snapped towards him as if he’d spoken the words out loud.

  ‘You really believe that if I die… my children will also die?’

  Brewer’s head twitched down, as close to a nod as he could manage.

  ‘Hmm.’ The Grand paced in front of the window, contemplating the idea.

  ‘Their minds are all… interlinked to mine,’ he mused. ‘In truth… your theory could be plausible.’ He gave a slight smile. ‘But it will never be put into effect.’

  He lunged towards Georgie and stood close to her again. She wanted to flinch only her body was paralysed. He reached out a withered hand and slid it into her jacket pocket. He pulled out her knife and held it up triumphantly.

  ‘I do not believe… you will be using this to kill me.’ He waved the knife in front of her face tauntingly.

  He cocked his arm to throw it to the other side of the room then changed h
is mind. He flicked open the knife and stroked his finger along the sharp blade instead.

  ‘You care…deeply for each other. Like your own family.’ His eyes flitted between them. ‘I would be inclined… to have you kill each other.’

  Brewer’s heart sagged with dread and the other hikers shifted restlessly at the idea. He could see the hungry anticipation on their faces. They would love to feed off their heightened emotions.

  ‘We would never,’ Brewer struggled out through gritted teeth.

  ‘Not yet… but in time,’ the Grand threatened. ‘Yes… you would.’

  He circled Georgie then raised the knife up to her face.

  ‘You’re more than damaged enough… ripe for taking. After a few hours with me… your nightmares would become reality.’

  He poked the lethal tip of the knife under Georgie’s right eye.

  ‘It will be slow… and painful. Killing each other… bit by bit. An eye here…’ He slid the cool metal down the skin of her cheek and parted her lips. ‘A petulant tongue.’

  A low moan escaped Georgie’s throat and she felt her legs buckle with fear.

  ‘Leave her!’ Brewer cried out.

  He managed to move a step closer to Georgie while the Grand had more of his attention on her.

  ‘It would be wise… not to be so protective,’ the Grand snarled at him. ‘Perhaps you need… a lesson.’

  He moved in front of Brewer again, still waggling the knife in his hand.

  ‘She was beautiful… your wife? Not like this whore here.’

  A memory of Karen on their wedding day bubbled to the surface of Brewer’s mind. The moment he’d first seen her walking down the aisle in her wedding dress. The self-conscious smile she’d given him as all those people watched her. Her eyes locked onto his until she reached his side. She’d never looked more stunning. The mental image made Brewer physically hurt. He despised the Grand for tainting her memory.

  ‘Alas… she was not so beautiful at the end.’

  To Brewer’s horror, a vision of Karen lying in a hospital bed at her sickest exploded into his head. She reached out an emaciated arm to him.

  ‘Help me,’ she begged.

  ‘No, no, no.’ He wasn’t aware that he was mumbling out loud.

  The Grand gave a cruel laugh. ‘You couldn’t save her… and you can’t save this dirty whore. Poor Karen.’

  More memories rushed to the front of his mind – Karen’s sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, the sickly yellow colour of her skin, her frail body swamped by twisted bed covers. The woman he’d loved more than anything slowly dying. He felt hot tears of anguish spill down his cheeks. He had failed everyone.

  Chapter 50

  Georgie couldn’t bear the sense of devastation that was pouring in waves from Brewer. The Grand’s torturing was too much for her to handle.

  She retreated deeper inside her own mind. Removing herself from the situation, as she had done all those times with Nick, and afterwards, the leering, paying men. She burrowed down into the furthest corner of her mind. It was quieter down there, away from the wrath of the Grand. She found a safe memory and immersed herself in it.

  It was one of her earliest, and happiest, memories. It was summer time and she was in a playhouse in her garden. Her dad had built it for her as a birthday present. It was a large wooden house, painted white with a pink trim around the door and windows.

  The sounds and smells washed over her. She could hear her parents in the garden outside the playhouse. They were talking and laughing. Her dad’s laugh was loud and full of life. The playhouse was warm and there were shafts of dappled light streaming in through the windows. It smelt of wood and freshly cut grass.

  ‘Who are you?’ a small voice asked beside her.

  Georgie looked down into the eyes of a little girl. She was about five years old and her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. The girl was sitting on a blanket with stuffed animals arranged around her for a tea party. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts and a white t-shirt with a unicorn on. It was her.

  Young Georgie regarded her solemnly with big brown eyes. ‘You look scared.’

  Georgie nodded. ‘I’m hiding from someone.’

  ‘Someone scary?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Young Georgie shrugged and put a plastic cup in front of one of her bears. ‘It’s safe here.’

  ‘I know,’ Georgie replied.

  She crossed her legs in a subconscious mimic of her younger self. She picked up the teddy bear nearest her and lifted it to her nose. It was one of her favourites and it still smelt the same.

  ‘Mr Softie,’ she murmured as she put it back carefully.

  ‘No one can find you while my dad’s out there.’ Young Georgie said proudly. She handed Georgie one of the plastic cups. ‘Careful, it’s hot.’

  Georgie took it from her small grasp and pretended to blow on the imaginary liquid before taking a sip. They sat in silence for a moment with their tea.

  She felt warm and at peace. It really was safe in there. Maybe she could stay hidden until everything out there was over.

  ‘But what about Scott?’ Young Georgie asked.

  The sides of the playhouse seemed to dissolve at the thought of him. For a moment they were almost transparent and she got a glimpse of the Grand standing in front of Brewer. Sound filtered in and she could hear him trying to control his sobs while the Grand taunted him. His intense feelings threatened to spill into her safe house.

  She concentrated on building the walls up again. They weren’t as solid as they had been – she could still see the shadows of the outside world through them and hear muted voices.

  Young Georgie carried on pouring tea for her bears; she couldn’t see any of it. Fear seeped back into Georgie’s body. This wasn’t her place but she was too afraid to leave it.

  Through the haze of memory she felt Brewer’s hand gently graze the back of hers.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he choked out in a muffled whisper.

  She felt a pang of guilt. He was out there alone, enduring the Grand’s onslaught, and he had given up. She twitched her fingers in response. It was all over for them. They were going to die and she couldn’t do anything about it.

  ‘Never say never,’ young Georgie said as she sat one of the bears up straighter.

  Georgie reeled at the phrase she’d long forgotten. It was something her dad used to say to her when she thought something was impossible, or that she couldn’t do it.

  The words sparked a fire inside her. They had lost the tranquiliser gun and knives but the other two rabies darts were in her pocket. Perhaps if she could reach them… no, that wouldn’t work. It could take hours for the Grand to die and he would kill them before then.

  She thought again of Brewer. There was still his original plan, to commit suicide with the Grand trapped inside his mind. He would die instantly, killing all the other hikers.

  She felt her pulse quicken. Would she be able to do it? Brewer was too weighed down by the Grand’s attack; he’d never be able to act on it. She, on the other hand, could.

  She sat and thought for a moment. The Grand didn’t have much attention focussed on her right then, and he couldn’t hear what she was thinking way down there. If he could, he would have been on her in a flash. She was too deep in for him to detect her plan.

  She risked another look through the opaque walls. She had no weapon at hand to turn on herself but there had to be something else. Her eyes settled on the window in front of her. It was no more than ten feet away. They were only on the second floor however each storey of the house was tall and it was a sheer drop to the gravel-covered concrete below. It should be enough to kill her.

  She twitched her fingers again as a test. She had the ability to move. The Grand had lapsed his hold on her body. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins and she tried to keep rigidly still so as not to give herself away. She would be the one to end this all.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said, holding out her hand.
/>   Young Georgie nodded and took back the plastic teacup.

  ‘Bye,’ she smiled. ‘Make dad proud.’

  It was Georgie’s turn to nod. She would indeed make her dad proud of her. Finally.

  She stood up and stepped through the door of the playhouse into a long, grey corridor. There was a single door at the far end. She listened but couldn’t pick up the Grand close by. He was still occupied with Brewer.

  She crept along the corridor silently, hearing the noise level increase as she got nearer the surface of her mind. There was a new rumbling sound that hadn’t been there before. She realised it was a car engine – the other hikers were coming back. She had to act before they got there. The Grand would turn his amusement back to her soon and put his plan for their gruesome deaths into action.

  She took a deep breath. Her eyes focussed on the window, as her internal self reached the door. The part of the Grand in her mind was behind that door. When she opened it, he would be able to hear her again. The timing was crucial ­– she needed to draw him deeper into her mind at the point she went through the window. It was the only way she could trap him for long enough.

  ‘Never say never, dad.’

  She counted to three then flung open the door in her mind, at the same time she broke for the window. She ran towards her reflection, praying with each step that the glass was as dated and thin as it looked.

  Inside, she sprinted away from the door. She heard the Grand bellow with rage as he realised she had evaded his clutches. He followed her into the corridor, chasing her deeper into her mind to try and regain his control.

  Georgie lifted up her hands to shield her face as she ploughed through the window with a deafening smash. She felt the cold, night air smother her.

  Inside her mind, she reached the door back to her guarded, precious memories and fumbled with the handle. The Grand was right behind her. She felt his breath on her neck as his bony fingers closed like a vice around her arms.

  ‘Got you,’ he sneered and spun her around to face him.

  ‘No!’ she screamed and got an equally firm grip on his withered shoulders. ‘I’ve got you!’