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

by Lauren Algeo

  There was a decent sized garden out the back and a patio where they could have dinner in the summer months. It had been overgrown when they’d moved in and Brewer had taken on the gardening duties. Over the years, it had become a hobby he loved and the garden now had an immaculate lawn and carefully tended flowerbeds. He’d even turned it into a side-line career and looked after the gardens at a few other houses in the village. He found it relaxing when he finished shifts at his main job.

  Brewer worked as a part-time security guard at a shopping centre in a nearby town. It was mainly daytime shifts and the work was easy – the most he had to contend with were shoplifters and the occasional fight among kids after the local schools kicked out. He had a few friends who worked with him and he knew a lot of the shop owners. It was far more sociable than his last venture into security work – where he’d endured long, solitary night shifts and tried to kid himself that hikers didn’t exist.

  He was happy with his security and gardening jobs but Marcus sometimes managed to get him to the station to act as a consultant on cold cases. He enjoyed the mental stimulation of hunting for any clues that may have been missed during the original investigation. He’d been a good detective back in his day and he’d helped Marcus to work through the old evidence.

  His friend was higher up in the force now – a Detective Chief Inspector heading murder investigations. Brewer wondered how far he would have got if he’d stayed in the force. Would he have been a DCI too, or maybe even a Superintendent? There was never any point going over all the what ifs – what if Karen had never gotten sick, what if that hiker had never found him – he was content with his current life, and had learned to deal with the pain and anger of his past.

  Brewer poured himself another glass of wine and took it through the hallway to the living room while Ellen finished tidying the kitchen. He sank onto the comfy tan sofa and flicked on the TV. The night-time news was starting but he was no longer filled with the sense of dread that used to grip him, he knew there would be no hiker activity.

  He sipped his wine and admired the thin watch on his wrist. It had been a birthday present from Ellen and had a brown leather strap and silver clock face. She’d taken the day off work and presented him with the carefully wrapped gift at lunchtime.

  Ellen worked as an English tutor to children in the neighbouring towns. She had several families who she visited regularly and she was a great teacher. She’d always studied English and had led book clubs back in the library in Connecticut so tutoring had been a natural progression. She hadn’t wanted to go back to working in a library in case it brought back too many memories of her old life.

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Ellen called from the kitchen.

  ‘I’m good with wine, thanks,’ he replied.

  The nice bottle Marcus and Trudy had bought him was long gone although the one he was drinking now wasn’t too bad. It had been a while since he’d drunk more than a couple of glasses and his body felt relaxed.

  Through his contented haze, Brewer registered that the newsreader who’d appeared on the TV screen was speaking very gravely to the camera. He was about Brewer’s age and his face was set in a grim expression – something serious had happened. Brewer shifted into a more upright position and turned up the volume as the face of the Prime Minister filled the screen.

  ‘Peter Davenport was found dead in his study earlier this evening. The full details have yet to be released but it is believed that no one else was involved. The police have been at Downing Street all evening and we’re expecting a statement imminently.’

  The newsreader began to detail the Prime Minister’s life but Brewer found it hard to focus. He took a gulp of wine and found the liquid he’d enjoyed moments ago now tasted bitter. The food he’d eaten sat heavily in his stomach. Did the fact that no one else had been ‘involved’ mean the PM had died of natural causes? There had been no mention of an ambulance or hospital visit. A prolonged appearance by the police could mean that the death was suspicious… or maybe he was just reading too much into it. They probably had to cover every possibility, even if the PM had just keeled over with a heart attack.

  Brewer opened his mouth to inform Ellen of the news but the screen cut abruptly to a reporter outside Downing Street. There were cameras and reporters everywhere.

  ‘…Deputy Prime Minister, Jack Connors, will be making a statement momentarily. It is believed the news was leaked by someone who was inside the building so the government are having to act quickly.’

  ‘What can you tell us about the atmosphere there?’ the concerned newsreader asked.

  A caption had appeared at the bottom of the screen to reiterate the breaking news: the Labour party were in shock after the sudden death of their leader.

  ‘Understandably there’s a very sombre, heavy atmosphere here. I’ve seen some distraught members of the public. Most of the people gathered here want to know what happened, and express their sympathies to the family.’

  Brewer nodded to himself. The Prime Minister had a wife and two children who would be reeling from this news. He watched with wide eyes as a crowd of people emerged onto the iconic street to begin a hastily put together press conference. There were bodyguards everywhere and Brewer tried to read their expressions. Had something more sinister happened?

  The Deputy PM, Connors, stepped up to the microphone. He was a handsome man, who was usually smiling, but tonight his chiselled face was drawn into a look of sorrow. His blue eyes had a red tinge to them and his brown hair hadn’t been styled as meticulously as normal. When he spoke, his voice belied none of the emotions on his face – his tone was strong and unwavering.

  He told the nation that this was a terrible tragedy that had shocked everyone. His deepest sympathies were with the Davenport family and he asked for them to be left in peace to grieve. He spoke fondly of his friend and colleague, and said how much this loss had shaken him.

  Ellen entered the living room, cradling a steaming mug of tea. She’d become hooked on it since moving to England.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she frowned towards the TV.

  ‘The Prime Minister died earlier this evening.’ Brewer managed to tear his eyes away from the screen.

  ‘Oh god, that’s awful.’ Ellen’s right hand flew up to her mouth. ‘His poor family. He was only young. What happened?’

  ‘I don’t know yet, most likely a medical condition,’ Brewer replied. ‘Details were being leaked so they’ve had to do a press conference tonight.’ He gestured to Connors. ‘I’m guessing he’ll be announcing that he’s taking the reigns to ease the panic in the party.’

  Davenport had only been in power for two years and hadn’t been expecting another general election until 2025.

  Ellen moved across the living room, intending to join Brewer on the sofa, but she froze halfway over with a loud gasp. The mug fell from her fingers and dropped heavily to the carpet.

  ‘Ellen, what is it?’ Brewer hopped to his feet instantly and rushed to her side, not caring as he stepped in the patch of scalding tea that was soaking into the carpet.

  ‘I’m so clumsy!’ Ellen tried to laugh it off yet the sound was loud and shrill. She bent down to retrieve the mug but Brewer steered her towards the sofa.

  ‘Leave that for a minute.’ He stared at his wife’s pale face. She was looking anywhere but at him. ‘Talk to me.’

  Ellen shook her head vigorously. ‘It’s nothing. I just had a funny moment.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ The sick feeling in Brewer’s stomach was back. He’d seen her with this terrified expression before, although not for a long time. ‘Tell me the truth.’

  Ellen’s eyes finally met his. ‘I thought I…’ she started then took a deep breath. ‘I had a faint sense in my gut, like I used to get back in America.’

  She didn’t say the word out loud but Brewer knew exactly what she meant: hikers. She had sensed a hiker.

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t,’ she added quickly. ‘I might just have indigest
ion or something.’

  It was an excuse Mitch had suggested before that she’d adamantly denied – there was no mistaking the feel of a hiker.

  Brewer turned his head towards the TV. The live press conference. His body felt numb and he didn’t trust himself to speak yet. He took in the man on the screen. Jack Connors was talking animatedly, indeed informing the nation that he would be taking charge. His eyes were clear and bright blue. He wasn’t a hiker.

  There was no hint of scratching or whispering in Brewer’s mind but that didn’t surprise him – surely there was no current target. He was more shocked that Ellen had thought she’d sensed one through a broadcast. How strong must it be to affect her in such a way?

  He studied the faces of everyone in the background. Police, guards, members of the government – they all looked normal. No black eyes, nothing out of place.

  The news camera panned out to show the party members Connors was referring to in his speech. In the corner of the shot, Brewer spied Connors’ wife standing further back. She was gazing sombrely towards her husband and had her hands placed on the shoulders of the small boy in front of her. He was about nine or ten years old and he was staring ahead with his head cocked slightly to the right.

  Brewer registered his light blond hair and his narrowed eyes – ones that were far too dark for his fair complexion. He took in the all-too-familiar stance. The boy was concentrating on something that no one else could hear. Was he ransacking through someone’s mind right at that moment?

  Brewer’s heart leapt into his throat as the full enormity of the situation struck him. The boy on the screen was a child hiker… and he was the new Prime Minister’s son.

  Chapter 3

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ellen whispered softly. ‘The hikers are all dead. There haven’t been any for years.’

  She was curled up on the sofa, clutching onto a glass of Jack Daniels tightly.

  Brewer stared at his own glass but didn’t drink it. ‘The boy must have survived somehow.’

  His voice was hoarse and he’d been fighting the urge to cry ever since they’d switched off the TV. He’d thought it was over – enough time had passed to make him positive that it was – but now there was this child. How was it possible?

  Brewer had fetched the laptop from the dining room although he hadn’t plucked up the courage to turn it on yet. The computer was a much newer model than the old Mac book he used to carry around and he looked at the shiny, silver surface. In there were the answers to all their questions but he didn’t want to find out.

  Was the new PM’s son his biological boy? How old was he? Where had he come from? What did he want? Bile rose in his throat and Brewer swallowed it down with a gulp of his JD. The liquid warmed its way to his belly but did nothing to stop the tremor in his hands.

  It was Ellen who finally leaned forward and turned on the laptop. She was pale but composed.

  ‘It’s just a little boy,’ she said briskly as the screen came to life. ‘We both had too much wine with dinner and we imagined that he was something more. There are no hikers.’

  The statement was meant to sound strong only her voice trembled at the end.

  Brewer put a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Ellen…’ he started.

  ‘I know.’ She sniffed as tears filled her eyes. ‘I just don’t want to believe it… it’s not fair! Not after everything we went through. We don’t deserve this!’

  A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped at them hastily. ‘I survived too much to have them do this to me again.’

  ‘I know,’ Brewer nodded. He wanted to fall apart too but he had to be strong for her. ‘Whatever this is, we can face it together, just like we did before.’

  ‘Why should we have to?’ she snapped. ‘It’s not our responsibility any more.’

  ‘Because that child hiker now has a very powerful father,’ Brewer said gravely. ‘No doubt he got rid of Davenport to ensure it. He can make Connors do anything in his new position.’

  He didn’t want to voice his concerns however his mind was racing with images of armies and killings and World War 3. This boy could use his powerful platform for mass murder on a scale they’d never seen before. He was currently more dangerous than anyone in the world.

  Brewer took the laptop from Ellen and began to research. He’d never paid much attention to the Deputy PM before but now he needed to know everything about the Connors family.

  ‘His name is Daniel,’ he said a few moments later. His eyes skimmed the Google results with growing dread. ‘Mr and Mrs Connors adopted him when he was five years old.’

  ‘How old is he now?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘He’s ten.’ Brewer paused to make some mental calculations. ‘He must have been born around the time we killed the Grand. It says he’s British so I assume he’s one of the Grand’s descendants, rather than the Master’s.’

  Ellen nodded slowly and chewed on her bottom lip. ‘That must be why he didn’t die with all the other hikers. He might not have been born until after they were killed.’

  ‘Or he was a new-born but had never linked minds with the Grand so he wasn’t affected by the death pulse.’

  Brewer dug deeper into the online biographies. ‘Apparently the boy had been in a children’s home for years and no one knew who his parents were. Sounds about right if his parents died when the Grand did – they might have both been hikers.’

  ‘It would make sense. He’s powerful enough for me to detect through a live broadcast.’ Ellen gave a shudder.

  Brewer sat back with a frown. If the boy had been taken into care as an abandoned baby then surely someone would have wanted to adopt him? Couples were always looking for young children and he would have seemed like a normal infant. Brewer wondered if he’d gone through numerous foster carers before ending up in the group home where Connors and his wife had found him. Was it possible that he had driven other couples away for five years until he found the perfect parents? Connors would only have been an MP back then but the boy would have seen the potential power in his mind.

  Brewer realised that Ellen had angled the laptop towards her on the sofa while he’d been lost in his thoughts.

  ‘Jack Connors’ wife is called Marie,’ she read. ‘They’ve been married for about fifteen years and couldn’t have any children of their own.’

  Brewer thought of the woman he’d seen during the press conference, who’d had her hands placed protectively on her son’s shoulders. They would have no idea what their only child really was. Their love for him would be fierce and unwavering.

  ‘Find out more about Connors.’ Brewer rubbed tiredly at his temples. There was a headache pulsing away behind his eyes. They both had work the next day but he had no idea how they would face it after this devastating blow.

  ‘He was an MP for the Labour party for several years.’ Ellen sounded just as drained as he felt. ‘In the last few years he rose dramatically through the party, until he took on the position of Deputy PM just after the last general election. Apparently he’s an intelligent, fair man and a great public speaker. Everyone seems to speak highly of him.’

  ‘That part’s all him but no doubt the swift rise through the ranks was the work of the boy,’ Brewer said. ‘It would have been easy for him to persuade people to give his “father” these opportunities.’

  ‘What’s his motive though? Why is he going to all this trouble to make his father this powerful?’ Ellen pushed the laptop away in frustration.

  Brewer stared at the photo of the family on the screen. It was a press shot from a previous conference and Daniel was staring intently at the camera. He was dressed smartly in a light blue shirt and black trousers, and his blond hair was neatly combed. Brewer could see the intelligence gleaming in his dark eyes.

  ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough,’ he whispered.

  Chapter 4

  Ellen pushed the plate of toast towards Brewer and he shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  She toyed with
a slice on her own plate but didn’t take a bite. Neither of them had been able to stomach anything other than coffee that morning. It was only 8am but they’d already been up for hours. Brewer had lain on his back for most of the night, staring at the ceiling, while Ellen had tossed and turned beside him. How could they sleep when they knew there was a child hiker out there?

  ‘Do you think we should tell Mitch?’ Ellen asked reluctantly.

  Brewer sipped his third coffee of the day and weighed up her question. Should they really ruin anyone else’s life with this news? They’d spoken to Mitch two days ago over Skype so he could wish Brewer an early happy birthday. They tried to keep in regular contact and Mitch had done well with his life. He’d grown up a lot in the ten years or so since they’d met and was now a mature, thirty-five year old man.

  He had a wife, Carmen, and a four-year old son, called Jayden. Brewer had been touched when Mitch had given Jayden the middle name of Scott, after him. He and Ellen had taken a trip to Philadelphia a couple of years ago to meet Mitch’s family. Carmen knew everything about the Master and what they went through. Mitch had been brave enough to share it with her before they got married and she’d accepted his stories as truth.

  Brewer had thought other people would never believe them yet Carmen proved him wrong. When they finally met, she’d thanked him profusely for saving Mitch’s life and ridding the world of evil hikers. She was a caring, beautiful woman and Brewer was glad Mitch had found her. They’d met through work – Mitch had become a software developer, after turning his love of the internet into coding skills, and Carmen had worked for one of his clients. Now she was a full-time mum to Jayden.

  Brewer pictured the little boy he’d seen on Skype two days before. They’d thought he was growing up in a safe, hiker-free world, that he’d never see the horrors they had, but now that hope was shattered. It may only be one child hiker out there however he had the potential for so much destruction. In the future he could spawn his own race of murderers, as his fathers had done before him. They had to put a stop to it before it ever escalated that far. Mitch deserved to know, but not until they had a plan.