by Ian Somers
‘Nevertheless, you’re here. By all accounts you held her at bay for quite some time.’
‘That still doesn’t explain how this is training.’
‘Your gifts are strong and you use them well, but you must learn to sharpen your mind and not depend solely on your gifts to survive. If you’re to take Romand’s place you will need to act fast and decisively. You were able to contend with Marianne because she fought in a way that your mind could easily understand; she used psychokinesis against you. It’s a gift you are very familiar with. If you are to be a member of the Guild, though, you will certainly come up against people who have different gifts. Obscure gifts that are more subtle, harder to comprehend and in their own way more dangerous than psychokinesis. You will need to understand these gifts if you are to defend yourself against them. We will start with light-tuning. I will train you by helping you to understand a gift you know little of and how to counter it or, if possible, avoid it.’
‘How about we come back to this tomorrow?’ I asked. ‘I’ve had enough for one day and I’m wrecked.’
‘No. Will you say that to an assassin when he is trying to kill you? “Oh, sorry, Mr Assassin, I’m in need of my beauty sleep. Can you come by tomorrow and try to kill me in the morning?”’
Hunter laughed wildly at me.
‘I don’t find you in the slightest bit funny.’ I said
‘So what? I’m not here to entertain you. Besides, I like my own jokes.’
‘Nightmare,’ I sighed. ‘This is an absolute nightmare!’
‘It’s only a game, Bentley, so stop your whining.’
‘It’s a very annoying game, Hunter.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘Why? Does it bother you, Hunter?’
‘You’re only making things harder on yourself.’
‘It doesn’t get any worse than this!’
I couldn’t help thinking of my dad in that moment. I remembered how, only months before, I was so desperate to leave him and the gloomy housing estate we lived in. How foolish I had been. I’d have given anything in that moment to be able to return to Ireland, and to my family home. I would have loved to be sitting watching a football match on the TV with him, and not trapped in a freezing forest.
‘Of course it can get worse,’ Hunter said, snatching me from my thoughts. ‘Imagine I disappeared and left you out here to find your own way home …’
‘Don’t you dare! Listen, I’ve failed this test. I admit it. You’ve won this round. Just don’t leave me here. It’s impossible to find a way out in the dark.’
‘Darkness doesn’t make this test any harder.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Remember to use your mind. This is a simple puzzle and like all puzzles there is always a solution.’ He swiped his hand in front of his chest and he became cloaked once more. ‘I’ll see you when you get back to the cottage.’
‘Hey, you’re not gonna leave me out here, are you? Hunter …?’
The forest had fallen silent. I couldn’t tell if he was still standing in the same spot or if he really had gone off back to the cottage. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to show me the way home either way. This was a problem I would have to solve for myself.
I clambered off the damp ground and looked at the surrounding trees. The forest was filled with darkness, and I had no idea of what direction to take, but I paced forward just to get myself motivated. Two hours later I was sitting on the ground again. I remained trapped.
Hunter had said it was a simple puzzle and all puzzles have a solution. But how could I find my way out? I realised that I could not trust my eyes and that what I was seeing was what was tricking me over and over again. I considered closing my eyes to remove the chance of being fooled by trickery, but the woodland floor was far too unpredictable for that; I’d end up falling down a ravine and breaking my legs or something equally as painful. There had to be a way!
‘I am being fooled by what I see …’ I said to myself. ‘The trees are not real, but I cannot distinguish which are the real trees from the reflections that he is creating … I need find and follow something that he cannot distort.’
There was no moon in the black sky above the forest and the mountains nearby were out of sight. There was no landmark to follow, and it probably wouldn’t work anyway. After all, Hunter had reflected the sun when I tried using that as a guide hours earlier. It was only now, after his explanation, that I realised he’d used his weird gift to prevent me from seeing the real sun, and to trick me into using a reflection of it as a guide.
I was growing extremely frustrated by the whole situation and the rain was coming down even heavier than before. I bowed my head to hide my face from the torrent and stared at the ground, hoping that a solution would present itself.
‘Damn it!’ I shouted out. ‘How did I not think of this earlier?’
I’d been pacing that opening for quite a while and my footprints were clearly visible on the damp earth. All I had to do was find Hunter’s foot prints and follow them home.
I went to the place where I’d ran into the tree and just a few yards away were a number of larger and deeper prints, obviously made by Hunter’s heavy boots. The tracks went in circles at first, but soon they led me out of the trees to the grassland that stretched out to the foothills of the mountains, where the cottage was. I trudged through the waterlogged fields and I finally made it to the cottage around midnight.
I had to concentrate hard to stop my body shivering when I got inside. I caught my reflection in the mirror in the hallway and I looked like a half-drowned rat. I didn’t want to give Hunter the pleasure of seeing me shaking from the cold so I straightened up and put a brave face on.
I kicked off my runners in the hall then paced through the sitting room to see him sitting, in the only chair there was, by the fire with a cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. The cloud of smoke that slowly swirling around him didn’t hide his grin. I felt my temper boiling over and I wasn’t going to let him get away with leaving me out in the rain for the night.
‘What’s your problem with me?’ I snapped. ‘You’ve treated me like a leper since the day we came here.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bentley.’
‘I hope you choke on that whiskey!’
‘You’re making a mess,’ he said, pointing his cigar at the expanding pool of water at my feet. ‘And I’m sure you don’t want to be mopping the floors at this late hour.’
‘Mop them yourself. I’m outta here first thing in the morning.’
‘Grow up, Bentley.’
‘Grow up? You’re the one who’s acting like a child with all these games and stupid remarks. I’m telling you now, I’ve had enough of this and I’m leaving tomorrow. You can stick your Guild and your smart remarks where the sun don’t shine.’
‘Do you always run away when times get tough?’
‘I certainly do not but I won’t remain here unless I’m shown some respect!’
‘Respect is earned not demanded.’
‘Respect is a courtesy that should always be given.’
‘I think you should take your own advice and lower your voice while you’re in my home.’
‘I’d show you some respect if you stuck to your word.’
‘I have broken my word?’
‘Yeah, you have. You told me I was here to learn and all I get is abuse and stupid chores to annoy me. When does the real training start?’
‘All in good time, Bentley.’
‘Stop saying that. You always bloody say that.’
He turned his chair to the fire and took a sip from his glass. There were no more words between us that night.
CHAPTER TWO
Secrets in the Dark
My room was a cramped space with blank walls and no decorations of any kind. There were only two pieces of furniture: the ridiculously narrow bed and a flimsy chest of drawers. The only distraction from the monotony of the room was the clock hanging on the
wall. There was no TV, no radio, no games console, no laptop, no phone, no nothing. The bedroom lived up to its description: a room with a bed. It fitted perfectly with Hunter’s simple view of life.
The light went on once I opened the door and my saturated clothes proceeded to peel themselves from my quivering limbs as if they had a mind of their own. Most of the time I didn’t even need to concentrate on using my gift to do small things like turning on lights and getting undressed. My control over the gift had improved tenfold since I’d left my home in Ireland – probably because I no longer needed to hide it from those around me – practice makes perfect, and all that.
The towel hanging on the back of the door floated across the room into my hands and I dried myself off as best I could. I should’ve jumped straight into a hot shower, but the plumbing in the little cottage was prehistoric and it took hours for the water in the tank to heat up. Instead I settled for some dry clothes and the hug of the duvet.
I was still fuming after my confrontation with Hunter and I cursed him for playing such a cruel trick on me that day. If I caught pneumonia I’d make sure the Guild found out it was his fault before I died. I rubbed frantically at my ribs in an attempt to generate some heat and I scratched my feet across the mattress cover to warm them. Sleeping in that sorry excuse for a bedroom was bad enough without being frozen half to death.
‘Dear Lord!’ I breathed. A terrifying idea had just popped into my head. ‘I hope the Guild sends for me before winter sets in. I couldn’t handle three or four months in this frozen hell of a place.’
When would I return to the world of the living? It was a question that often preyed on my mind. I understood why I had to disappear, after everything that had happened, but I didn’t want to be isolated for too long. I was lonely, worried about my dad, I missed Cathy and most of all; I didn’t want to end up like Hunter by being exiled to the Scottish wilderness for too long. If I spent many more months with him I’d even develop his thick Scottish accent – not that there was anything wrong with it, I just didn’t want to have anything in common with that impossible man!
The rain dashed the window above the bed and the wind rattled the walls of the little cottage. It was a miserable abode and I couldn’t wait to get away from it. I told Hunter I was bailing out first thing the next day. It was an idle threat and we both knew it; there was no way I could leave. My face would still be recognised after what happened at The Million Dollar Gift and there was also the looming threat of Golding Scientific and its many minions who were probably still keeping an eye out for me. I was stuck with Hunter for the time being and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I focused on the light switch across the room and used my psychokinetic power to flick it down. The room was cast into shadow and I pulled the duvet up over my shoulder. The worst part of living in the countryside was trying to get some sleep when there was nothing to distract my thoughts from that dreadful place they kept returning to.
I tried to focus on something positive until sleep came, but everything I thought about led to the same subject: Marianne Dolloway and Marcus Romand. And when I thought about what happened I was led back to my darkest memory: I had led that murderous woman to the Atkinson’s house, which meant I was responsible for Romand’s death. It was a fact that I would never escape from.
‘Damn,’ I whispered. ‘I wish I had a TV.’
I always found I could watch some mindless garbage on the tube and easily drift off. It had worked wonders in the year following my mother’s death, when there was so much confusion in my mind and so much emptiness in my heart. This was similar, though I didn’t have familiarity as a crutch to lean on this time. All I had were my thoughts, and the occasional confrontation with Hunter, who was now pacing along the hallway outside my bedroom.
The door to the next room slammed and a second later the springs of his bed bungeed. It was the same every night. He just closed his door and jumped onto the bed without even getting undressed. He was a right weirdo! At least he didn’t snore like Romand … And so I was back to thinking about him, and contemplating the costly mistake I’d made. The one that had alerted Marianne to our hideout.
The memories of what happened next were etched into my mind. The fear when I hid with the Atkinsons in the attic, the adrenalin rush when I faced Marianne, the shock of the gunshot that grounded her, the look on Cathy’s face when Romand died. I doubted I would ever be able to banish those images.
The night went by slowly; sleep just would not come. My train of thought had paused at that point when Marianne was gunned down by the police. What had happened to her after that? I remembered Peter Williams saying that she had not shown up at any hospitals or police stations, which meant she must have been scooped by Golding’s people. Was she dead or alive? Was she lying on a bed in a dark room right at that very moment and plotting my demise?
I thumped the pillow with my fist and scolded myself for being so neurotic. The most likely scenario was that she had died from the gunshot wound. After all, it had blown half her shoulder away and even if she did live, Marianne wouldn’t pose much of a threat to me or the Guild.
I forced the sinister thoughts from my mind and focused only on Cathy’s face. That was the one thing that filled me with contentment. I nodded off around 4am.
The bed was kicked at 6am, like it was every single morning. I’d only had two hours sleep and wanted to complain, but I didn’t utter a single word in protest. There’d been countless sleepless nights followed by the usual rude awakening, followed by an argument that I lost every single time.
‘You look like crap, Bentley,’ Hunter pointed out as he walked to the door. ‘You really should be getting to bed at a decent hour and not hanging out in the forest until after midnight … Teenagers.’
‘Just what I need first thing in the morning, a dose of your special brand of humour.’
‘Just trying to get the day off to a good start.’
‘Sparing me your jokes would make for a better start.’
He paced out of the room and left me to clamber out of the bed and shuffle to the drawers to find some clothes for the day. I didn’t pay much attention to what I put on; we never had visitors and I didn’t care what Hunter thought of my dress sense.
I went to the kitchen and sat opposite him at the small, square table. There was a bowl of porridge in front of me and a cup of black coffee. I could not think of a less appetising combination, especially while having to watch Hunter suck up his own porridge. He also stank from smoking cigars the previous night.
I pushed my bowl into the centre of the table and took my cup to the back door and gazed out at the grey clouds gathering at the peaks of the mountains. It looked like a repeat of the previous day’s weather and I was hoping Hunter wasn’t planning on another excursion into the wilderness.
‘What’s on the schedule for today?’ I asked without turning to him. ‘And I want an umbrella if it involves outdoor activities.’
‘You have a hood. What do you need a brolly for?’
‘The hood is cotton. It soaks through in five minutes.’
‘Linda Farrier left her pink raincoat here when she visited last year. I can fetch it for you if you want.’
‘That would be swell.’ I turned to him and he was grinning ear to ear. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. I swiftly turned away from him before he noticed it.
‘No chores today, you’ll be happy to hear.’ He got up and dumped his bowl and cup into the sink, without rinsing them off - that was my job - then walked out onto the back porch before lighting up a cigar. ‘I have to go to town in a few hours.’
‘Why did you wake me up at six in the morning if you had nothing planned for the day?’ I asked through gritted teeth.
He turned to me and blew a cloud of smoke in my direction. ‘Because it’s healthy to keep a routine.’
‘You woke me up, so you’ll have to suffer me for the day.’
‘What are you yapping about?’
‘I’m going with you. I’ve been holed up here for far too long. I’ll go mental if I don’t get a break from this place.’
‘Out of the question,’ he said with a sharp shake of his head. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’
‘What do you care if I’m in danger?’
‘I care because if you’re spotted they may come here looking for you, then I might be in danger. I’d rather that didn’t happen. Don’t worry, Bentley, you’ve only got another eight months before you can return south.’
‘What did you just say…? Eight months?’
‘That was the agreement I came to with Peter Williams, to keep you out of sight for a minimum of ten months. You’ve been here for two, so that leaves eight. Don’t get your knickers in a twist about it because you have no say in the matter.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me it was ten months before I came up here?’ I followed him as he re-entered the kitchen. ‘I never would have agreed to this if I’d known.’
‘You’re giving me a headache, Bentley.’
‘You’re giving me a bigger headache, Hunter.’
He spun around and grabbed me by the throat then backed me up against the wall. Within an instant he had raised his other hand in front of my face. His index finger was pressed to my forehead and I felt a sharp tingle against my skull as his entire hand was surrounded by tiny flashes of electricity. I’d heard about electropsychs from Romand and I knew they could kill a person by firing bursts of electricity.
‘First of all,’ Hunter snarled, ‘I didn’t want to take this responsibility on for that amount of time. Secondly, I would prefer to be out chasing down Romand’s killers rather than babysitting you. Thirdly, stop calling me Hunter.’
‘Mr Williams calls you that. Why can’t I?’
‘Williams is an old friend of mine, that’s why he can call me that. You, on the other hand, are not my friend and you don’t get the privilege of referring to me by that name. Are we clear?’
‘I’m not scared of you. You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?’