by Lauren Algeo
He was the worst of all. He should die an agonisingly slow and painful death. He had killed Charles and revenge needed to be taken.
He gripped tightly onto the wooden head of his walking stick, feeling the dense pressure of pain in his palm. He rose to his feet at a pace worthy of his long years. He knew he looked somewhat younger but his body didn’t feel it. Lately, he’d been wondering what would happen when his now-frail body began shutting down and his mind remained as powerful as it was. He hadn’t managed to figure out how he could maintain it yet. How long could a human mind continue inside a body that was kept alive by machines?
That was all irrelevant now. The only thing that mattered was avenging the senseless murders of his kin. He shuffled slowly around the room using his stick as an aid.
The room was very large, with a high ceiling and double doors at the end that opened out onto a patio. This was his study, his haven. It had a large desk, sturdy oak cabinets, ornate vases, and a solitary armchair in front of a vast fireplace. The room was situated at the back of his house and the patio looked out across his acres of land, all carefully maintained.
He spent a lot of time in this room and the rest of the house was relatively unlived in. It had many bedrooms that were of no real use, as he found he and his children never needed much sleep. There was a wide foyer at the front with a long corridor leading through the house to his important study. The staircase to the upstairs was extremely grand and looked like something worthy of royalty, with oak banisters and red carpet. He was very settled in the house.
Occasionally, he travelled to other states to check on his children’s progress but mainly it was to enjoy the muddled minds of the masses. All scurrying about their days so full of worry and anger and pain. He loved to sit somewhere crowded and enjoy the angst around him.
He often still executed his own kills. Taking his time to pick the perfect vessel for his delightful plans. He’d taken a very satisfactory flight on an airplane recently, lots of terror and trauma high in the sky.
He stood by the window and stared into the distance, contemplating his options. These murderers were in Pennsylvania, not too far away. He could go there himself, however he knew by the time he arrived, they would have long moved on. He could find out if any of his children were closer. They might be able to track their journey and bring them to him.
Joseph had managed to inform him of a great deal in a short spell. He now knew their names and the route they had been taking across the states. This Scott Brewer had killed his brother and intended to find and kill him too. That would not be happening. He knew the murdering man had suffered his own losses and wanted vengeance, but he would fail.
Joseph had also shown him something seemingly small that held great interest. Scott Brewer was falling in love with the woman in their little group. He pictured the woman’s face, petite and unknowingly attractive. Ellen MacIntosh, that was her name. She was the key to making him suffer.
He leaned heavily on his walking stick and felt his lips stretch into a thin smile. There was a way for this to play out exactly as he wished. He closed his eyes and connected to the minds of his children. He thought of this ability as a two-way radio – he could broadcast a message to all of his children then wait for them to reply.
His request was simple: what were their current locations? They responded swiftly and obediently, and he quickly narrowed down the answers to three children. Two sons and one daughter, who were closest to Pennsylvania. He sent them precise instructions then closed his mind.
He hobbled slowly back to his armchair feeling a shiver of excited anticipation crawl down his back. Soon he would have his revenge. Very soon.
Chapter 27
‘Are you sure about this?’ Ellen asked again, her brow furrowed in concern.
‘Not really, but it’s the best thing I can think of,’ Brewer replied. ‘We need Warfarin and there will be loads in there.’ He nodded towards the hospital entrance in the distance.
They’d arrived in Indiana early that morning and booked a motel room to get some sleep however Brewer couldn’t rest. The only thing on his mind was arming themselves against the Master. He doubted he would come for them himself, and they’d travelled away from where they’d killed the hiker so would be hard to find, but he didn’t like the fact they didn’t have much Warfarin left, and no venom or insulin. He wouldn’t be able to sleep properly until they did.
He’d changed into a fresh, black jumper and asked Ellen to drive him to the nearest hospital while Mitch got some sleep.
‘Maybe I should go in instead,’ Ellen suggested. ‘As a woman, I’ll probably blend in more.’
He took that to mean people would dismiss her easier than a tall, unshaven, scruffy-looking man. It was how Georgie had slipped unnoticed into the hospital at home, but he couldn’t let Ellen take that risk. Attempting to steal drugs from a hospital was a serious offence. He’d rather he was the one that got into trouble if he was caught. He had no ties in the country and not much to lose.
‘No, you go back to Mitch at the motel and try to sleep,’ he said then gestured to his battered face. ‘Besides, I look injured. People will just assume I’m here for medical treatment.’
‘There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep while you’re here,’ she said pointedly.
‘Well, do some research instead then. We need to find another hiker to help us narrow down the Master’s location. Please?’
‘Ok,’ she sighed. ‘But please be careful.’
‘I’ll try.’ He got out of the car and watched as she drove off in the direction of the motel.
Brewer hoisted his rucksack onto his back and walked towards the hospital entrance, taking in the layout as he went. There was one main reception and a smaller entrance further along the building for an Emergency Department. Presumably so the ambulances could pull right up to it.
He ran through everything he knew about hospitals. He’d spent a lot of time in and out of them during Karen’s battle with her brain tumour, and tried to remember where all the drugs were stored. It was usually in a locked cupboard on the wards, that only nurses could access. They kept some on trolleys during drug rounds too. His experiences were only with UK hospitals, but how different could they be?
He weighed up his options as he reached the main entrance. He might be able to steal a nurse’s trolley during a round, although it would be tricky to stay on a ward in order to wait for that. At the last moment, he swerved to the right and made for the Emergency entrance. It would be the busiest ward by far and people could just walk in and out of it. He could sit in there for a while without looking too suspicious. Hopefully long enough for an opportunity to present itself.
He slipped through the double doors behind a hobbling man and made a beeline for the waiting area. He sat down near the back and tried to work out where the drugs would be stored. He could only see a small portion of the ward from his position and he quickly decided the drugs weren’t stored near this end of the department. It would be closer to the treatment rooms.
He stood up, as if he had been waiting for ages and wanted to stretch his legs, and walked casually along the corridor. The cupboard was towards the end, on the left, and he spied a nurse coming out. She was carrying a bottle of pills and she locked the door behind her. He’d found it, now he just had to get in.
Stealing a nurse’s keys would be extremely risky and could easily get him arrested if he tried to take them forcefully. He could hang around in case one got careless and left their keys unattended, although he could be waiting all day for that.
He kept moving past the taunting, locked door. Everything they needed was in that room. He couldn’t hover near it without drawing curious questions so he was forced to carry on until the end of the corridor.
There were toilets situated there so he used one to make it look as though that was where he’d intended to go all along. Not that he thought anyone was actually paying attention to him yet.
He left the toilets an
d doubled back towards the waiting room. As he strolled slowly along, a nurse walked briskly past him with a trolley. She was a small woman, with dark brown hair tied into a bun, and a neatly pressed uniform. She skidded to a halt outside the locked door and fumbled with a set of keys attached to a chain on her hip. She flung open the door and Brewer’s pulse began to quicken.
It was only twenty feet away. How much trouble would he get in to if he just barged in there now and snatched as many drugs as he could hold before bolting? Would he manage to get off the hospital grounds before security staff caught him? He wasn’t very keen on startling a poor nurse who was just going about her work. In the end, he didn’t have to.
‘Crystal!’ A male voice shouted from the other end of the corridor.
The nurse’s head snapped up at the sound and she paused with the trolley three-quarters of the way through the door. A frantic man in a white uniform appeared round the corner.
‘Crystal, hurry, code blue!’ He ran back to the ward entrance.
Crystal the nurse hesitated for a split second before abandoning her trolley just inside the room. She pulled the cupboard door towards her so it would close by itself but didn’t stop to lock it. She was needed for an emergency. She trotted down the corridor, to the corner where the man had disappeared, without a glance back.
If she had looked behind her, she would have seen Brewer sprint the last few feet to the door and dart inside before it closed in its frame. He pushed Crystal’s trolley aside and made sure the door was shut behind him to shield what he was about to do.
The drugs cupboard was more of a walk-in closet and extremely well stocked. He rapidly scanned the numerous bottles and packets, hunting for familiar names, aware that Crystal could reappear at any moment. Ah, there it was – Warfarin.
He shrugged his rucksack off his shoulders and hurriedly unzipped the main pocket. He scooped in several of the pink packets; there was no need to bother with the weaker-dosed ones. On a whim, he grabbed a few of the medications on either side of the Warfarin and some empty syringes. Who knew what might come in handy if they had to go up against the Master? He turned to leave then stopped still when he saw a small fridge to his left. He yanked open the door and saw rows of the other useful drug, insulin. He took a few bottles and added them to his bulging pack.
He’d barely been in the room for two minutes but that was more than long enough. Someone could come in at any moment and he certainly didn’t look like he worked there. Brewer hurriedly did up his rucksack with sweaty palms. He slipped out of the cupboard, swiftly checking that the coast was clear.
He tried to maintain a normal pace as he made his way to freedom. A couple of people rounded the corner and he prayed they hadn’t noticed which room he had come out of. At the end of the corridor, he felt fear take a firm grip on his body as he spied a CCTV camera in the ceiling.
It would have picked him up, going in and out of the cupboard. He tucked his chin down into his jumper and tried to angle his head forward to disguise his features. He’d been so hung up on getting into the room that he hadn’t considered security measures. With any luck, he would be long gone before anyone realised what was missing and checked through the video footage. Even if they did narrow it down to him, his face wasn’t known anywhere in this country. The police would be chasing a ghost.
He continued his stiff-legged walk to the department entrance and out into the fresh, cool air. He allowed himself a quicker march to the edge of the hospital grounds. He had made it.
Brewer turned in the direction of the motel. It would take him about half an hour to walk there at a steady pace. His rucksack bumped against his spine with every step and sharp corners of boxes poked out through the material to dig into his back. He couldn’t wait to check out exactly what he’d got, but he would hold off until he got to the safety of the motel. Instead, he took a slightly out of the way route, in case he was going to be trailed on CCTV cameras after the hospital found out about the cupboard incident.
It was forty minutes before Brewer came across the motel, after a suitably meandering journey. He walked up to their room at the far end of the row and knew instantly that something was wrong. The front door was open a crack and it looked as though the lock was broken. He froze on the outside and listened, only there was no sound from within.
Time seemed to slow right down and he was aware of every pump of his heart as he reached out to push the door open. It creaked loudly in the stillness. The room beyond was empty but it was clear there had been a struggle. There was an overturned chair on the floor and some scattered newspapers. The duvet had been ripped from one of the beds and the pillows had been knocked flying.
Brewer’s resolve broke and he began to shout loudly. ‘Ellen! Mitch!’ Even though he could see that neither of them were in the room.
The bathroom door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall and shook in its frame. The suddenness of the movement sent Brewer diving to the floor, as he expected a hiker to materialise in the doorway. A terrified Mitch came flying out instead.
‘Scott? Oh my god! They came here! They came and they… Oh my god!’ The kid was hyperventilating and soaked to his skin.
Brewer sprang back to his feet and seized him roughly by the shoulders. ‘Where is Ellen?’ he yelled, two inches from Mitch’s face.
‘They…came. They took her… I tried to help her!’ Mitch’s eyes filled with tears as he gasped out the words.
‘Why didn’t you stop them?’ Brewer roared, shoving Mitch backwards.
He half-turned and pounded the room wall in fury. Mitch had let them take Ellen. The panic that engulfed him was like a wall of fire, burning through his lungs and clouding his vision.
‘How could you let them get her?’ he said hoarsely.
‘I tried to stop them,’ Mitch’s voice was shrill with fear. ‘But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how and you weren’t here!’
Brewer stormed to the door and quickly checked the car park, even though he’d just crossed there and had seen nothing out of the ordinary. He stalked back into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed nearest the door. The one that was still neatly made. He put his head in his hands and tried to clear the fog. Blind rage wasn’t going to help Ellen.
‘What the fuck happened?’ he asked from behind his trembling hands.
Mitch leant back heavily against the wall as his legs gave way. He slumped down to the ground and sat propped up, with his knees tucked close to his chest.
‘I don’t know,’ he whispered. ‘It all happened so fast.’
‘When?’
‘Only about twenty minutes ago.’
While Brewer had been ignorantly idling along the roads, thinking the only thing he had to worry about was hospital security.
‘I was asleep when it started,’ Mitch continued. ‘I’d heard Ellen get back from dropping you off. She had some newspapers and was sitting on the chair by the sideboard. I must have drifted off as suddenly there was a loud bang and three people burst into the room… three hikers. Two males and one female. They looked exactly like the other ones – plain clothes and plain appearance – but their eyes were so dark.’
He shuddered visibly. ‘I jumped up in bed but they’d already reached Ellen before I could even get out. Two of them grabbed her by the arms and started dragging her towards the door. I tried to get to her but the third one, a male, wrestled me to the floor. Ellen was kicking and punching at them, really fighting, and screaming at me to run away if I could.’
He looked down at his balled fists. ‘But I couldn’t run and I couldn’t reach her. The hiker got inside my head. I’ve heard you guys talk about it so much only that still didn’t prepare me for what it felt like. All I could hear was his horrible voice echoing all around my mind. He seemed to take control of my body and it was like I was paralysed inside but my limbs were moving on their own. I could do nothing but watch as they hauled Ellen through the front door and out of sight.’
A tear
of shame rolled down his cheek. ‘I should have been helping her instead my body was walking me into the bathroom. The hiker turned on the taps in the bath as far as they’d go and put in the plug. I could feel him in my head the whole time, poking and prodding at my memories, making me remember things that I hadn’t thought about in years. Horrible things about my dad leaving. He found something he liked straightaway.’
Mitch took a ragged breath and Brewer felt a new stab of guilt. The kid had been in no position to prevent Ellen from being taken.
‘Remember I told you that I didn’t enjoy the beach in Connecticut as a kid because I can’t swim?’ Mitch asked.
Brewer didn’t, but he nodded anyway.
‘It’s not because I never wanted to learn,’ Mitch said. ‘It’s because I was too terrified of the water to try. I saw a film where someone drowned in a lake when I was really young and I’ve been petrified of drowning ever since. The hiker took a sick delight in that. He filled the bath and whispered in my head about how it was time for me to face my fear. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I tried to push it out of my mind like I’ve heard you instruct Ellen, but it was too powerful, and I was too concerned about her to concentrate properly.’
He paused and his expression darkened. He was recalling something very painful for him. ‘When the bath was half full, the hiker made me get in,’ he said. ‘He forced me to lie down and then instructed me to put my head under. I wanted to stop, to get out and run away, but I couldn’t prevent myself from slipping under the water. The hiker was calling all the shots and I was powerless to resist. The water went up my nose and in my mouth but I couldn’t sit back up to stop it. The hiker was whispering to me the whole time. Saying how we were all going to pay for what we’d done and this was only a taster of what torment was to come. He held me under there until I thought my lungs would burst, all the time there was water pouring from the taps to add to my torture. Then I was released for long enough to take a couple of spluttering breaths of air before being plunged back down.’