The Hidden Gift

by Ian Somers

  The immense bird glided over the lawn then spun fast and became a single orb of light that flickered.

  I noticed Canavan moving her arms erratically as if she were trying to swat a fly. She was actually shaping the large disk of light into a new shape; this one was a shimmering shade of silver. It took a few moments before it became clear what this shape was. It was the distinctive wolf head of the Guild. The same one I’d seen on Romand’s study papers, the one carved into porch posts at Hunter’s house, and the same as the medal attached to the cover of Jonathan Atkinson’s journal.

  It was truly spectacular and perfectly formed, even its eyes glowed crimson, giving it a lifelike quality. Hunter threw out a number of light orbs from his open arms and they slowly rose and became six-pointed stars that revolved around the wolf’s head. Fifteen of them in all. Each of them symbolising a true gift. It was a tradition I was happy they had continued. It was one of those moments that stay with you for the rest of your life.

  The lightshow lasted more than two hours and some of the tricks Hunter and Canavan produced were astounding. They rounded it off by mimicking traditional fireworks. This was also the most surreal of the tricks; I’d never watched silent fireworks before.

  Canavan appeared to tire at 11pm; her light tricks became more modest and were dwarfed by the grandiose explosions that Hunter continued to produce. She did, however, bow out with great style. Her body became surrounded by hundreds of tiny orbs that glowed bright orange, and when they faded, Canavan was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘She disappeared!’ Sarah cheered, her eyes looking ready to spring out of their sockets. ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘I haven’t gone anywhere, my darling.’ Canavan was standing behind us by the back porch smiling devilishly.

  ‘Are you a magician?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘But you can do magic. You’re really special!’

  ‘All of us here are all very special people,’ Canavan said to Sarah as she stooped in front of her and kissed her forehead. ‘That includes you. I think your gift is like magic.’

  I didn’t agree with what the old woman was saying. She was rambling on like Sarah’s gift was a thing of beauty and wonder, when in truth it was a terrible affliction that caused the girl, and those around her, a lot of torment.

  I went to my room alone before Hunter brought a conclusion to the light show. I had wanted to be with Cathy, but thought it best to give her some space. I tried to block out all the trouble and the great sense of loss that had dogged me for over a week.

  I sat in the centre of the room and summoned energy to me. I felt it surge within me then I allowed it to radiate from my limbs, so that it formed an invisible but powerful sphere that shielded me on all sides. I concentrated hard on making it as strong as possible, a shield that nothing could pierce. Focusing all my energy and thoughts on a shield allowed me remove myself from all the negativity that surrounded me, almost like meditation. I’m not sure how long I held the shield in place – hours maybe – but when my power finally blinked out, the house had gone silent and everyone was asleep. I ambled to my bed, too drained to even get undressed. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out cold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Facing the Devil

  I awoke with a start. Yet another disturbing dream about my dad. I sat on the side of the bed and wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I’d been having the nightmares all week and found myself pacing my room at the break of dawn trying to forget the dreadful things I’d seen. This night was different, though. This night I wasn’t the only one waking from a horrible dream.

  I heard quiet sobbing and walked out of my room to the landing. The weeping was coming from Sarah’s room. Did I really want to go in there and find out what she’d seen? My nightmares were a nuisance – Sarah’s nightmares came true. I couldn’t go back to bed and leave the child alone when she was obviously upset. I wasn’t that cold hearted just yet.

  I quietly walked to her door and eased it open. She was sitting at the top of the bed with the duvet pulled up tight to her chest by strained knuckles. The lamp was on and I saw in her eyes the same fear I’d seen in her after her last premonition, when she’d predicted Edward Zalech murdering my dad.

  ‘Another nightmare?’ I asked as I stepped onto the soft carpet in her room. I shut the door and went to the bed and sat.

  ‘Uh huh,’ she whispered. ‘It was very scary.’

  ‘What was it about?’

  ‘It was the tin man again …’

  Suddenly I was very interested to hear what she had to say. The tin man was Edward Zalech, the person I was desperate to locate. Perhaps her premonition might shed some light on his whereabouts. Perhaps it might help me find and confront him!

  ‘What was he doing in the dream?’

  ‘He was killing lots of people.’

  ‘Dear Lord …’ I breathed. He had to be stopped as soon as possible. I could not allow this monster, partly of my creation, to continue his rampage. ‘Where was the tin man, Sarah?’

  ‘By the sea.’

  ‘On a boat? On a beach or something?’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head, sending her blonde hair clapping against her cheeks.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In a city by the sea.’

  ‘Do you know which city it was?’

  ‘Nope. There were lots of buses nearby … is that important?’

  ‘Most cities have bus stations but it might help me to pin-point him if I can identify the city. Were there any signs on the road?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Damn it,’ I hissed in frustration. I quickly composed myself, not wanting to scare the girl. ‘Was there a sign? Was there anything unusual?’

  ‘Just the big tower.’

  ‘Blackpool tower?’

  ‘I dunno.’

  ‘Can you describe the tower for me?’

  ‘It was a big tower …’

  This was of no use to me; most towers were big, particularly to an eight-year-old. I rummaged through the drawers in the room then under bed until I found a coloured pencil and a copy book. I handed them to Sarah and asked her if she could draw what she’d seen.

  She took the copybook and weaved her hand across it over and over again. I watched the rough lines slowly taking shape until there was coherent image – a purple rendering of a tower. I took the copybook from her and stared at the childish image before me. It was the Spinnaker tower in Portsmouth. I was sure this could not be a rendering of any other tower in Britain. Edward Zalech would strike next in Portsmouth. I almost had him in my grasp. All I needed to know now was when.

  ‘Sarah, I have to ask you a very important question.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Do you know when he’s going to go this city by the sea?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure? Was there any clue to when it was?’

  ‘No. I never see the dates in my dreams. I just see stuff happening.’

  ‘Think hard, Sarah. Think about the dream for a minute. Was there anything in the dream that would suggest when it was happening?’

  ‘No…’ she shook her head and frowned. ‘Only …’

  ‘What is it, Sarah? Tell me, please.’

  ‘I saw the city before the tin man started hurting people. There were two old women outside a café, drinking tea. One of them said she didn’t sleep well.’

  ‘Right …’

  ‘The other said that she hadn’t slept well either. The fireworks had been too loud and had been going off late into the night.’

  ‘Fireworks the night before … Guy Fawkes Night …’ I said to myself. ‘Could it be? Was this to happen today? The tin man would strike Portsmouth today!

  ‘You were there too.’

  ‘I was?’

  ‘You were talking to the tin man on an empty street.’

  ‘I bet I was!’

  I wasn’t letting this opportunity pass me by. I
couldn’t tell the others, at least not Cathy or Mr Williams. Cathy would implore me to stay at the estate and allow someone else deal with Zalech, Mr Williams would insist that I not get directly involved. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I would allow the other Guild agents deal with Zalech. He would have to pay for what he did to Dad. My powers would be the instrument of retribution.

  ‘Try to get some sleep, Sarah,’ I said as I tore the sheet of paper from the copy book and folded it. I got up off the bed and gazed down at her. ‘Don’t worry; I’m going to stop the tin man. Just don’t tell the others about the dream, not until tomorrow, right?’

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Ross …’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I saw you in the dream …’

  ‘I know, you told me that.’

  ‘In the dream you couldn’t stop the tin man. He was too strong for you …’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  She lay back in her bed, not convinced. She said nothing and pulled the blanket up to her chin. I ruffled her hair then quietly paced back to my room and got dressed. There was no time to waste. If I got going soon I could be in Portsmouth in time to stop him from killing any more innocent people.

  I pushed my hands through the sleeves of my jacket and pulled on my runners. I didn’t need to bring anything else. I only needed my anger. I closed the bedroom door and took to the staircase but paused halfway down. Trepidation perhaps, common sense maybe. Sarah had said Zalech might be too much for me to handle by myself. Telling the others would mean I would lose out on the chance to face him. I slowly went back to the top of the staircase and looked along the dim hallway at the door to Hunter’s room. He was just as reckless as me. Would he be so reckless as to keep it from the others and join me? Would he support me in that way? Were we that close or was he just the cold hearted swine that had tormented me for so long in Scotland?

  ‘Hunter, are you awake?’ I whispered as I went to his bed.

  ‘What are you doing in my room, you oddball?’

  ‘Shut up!’ I whispered. I turned on the lamp and he shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness. ‘Keep your voice down.’

  ‘Bentley, I am sorry for your predicament and all that, but if you don’t get out of here I’m going to hit you with a thousand volts!’

  ‘I said keep your voice down!’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Sarah just had a vision and she described it for me.’

  ‘This better be good, Bentley.’

  ‘She just told me where Zalech will be this afternoon. Now you listen up, Hunter, I’m going after him. Don’t try and talk me out of it and don’t try to stop me. I only came here to see if you wanted to join me.’

  There was a long silence and our eyes locked. He never gave away what was on his mind and as he rose from the bed I had no idea if he planned to stop me or not.

  ‘Well?’ I asked.

  ‘Go out to the car and make sure to roll it out onto the road before you start the engine. Leave the headlights off too. I’ll join you in five minutes.’

  I did as he said and took the old Mercedes and used my psychokinesis to roll it out of the driveway and onto the road. When I was fifty yards or so from the main gates I turned the key and started the engine. I sat there with the headlights off. The sun was visible in the eastern sky and I just hoped it wasn’t too late. It was easily a four-hour drive to Portsmouth.

  I glanced at the clock on the dash when Hunter eased himself into the driver’s seat. It was 8.09am. We’d still get there by midday if we didn’t make any stops. Hunter lit a cigar before pulling on his seatbelt.

  ‘Now,’ he said, cigar smoke dancing around his face, ‘I’ve just done you a favour and I want you to also do yourself a favour.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  ‘By sticking to the plan.’

  ‘You haven’t told me what the plan is yet … if you even have one.’

  ‘The plan is that you follow my lead and don’t go off on some insane solo mission.’

  ‘I want to be the one who—’

  ‘I know you do. There’s more at stake here than your thirst for revenge, Bentley. Remember that. We’ll do this together, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  Hunter shifted the gear stick and pressed hard on the accelerator. We barely spoke for the next couple of hours. I felt like I couldn’t speak. I was far too nervous to hold a conversation. I got the feeling that my companion was nervous too; his fingers were tapping the steering wheel constantly, and he was chain smoking.

  ‘We should be there soon,’ Hunter announced. ‘Did the child say where exactly he would be?’

  ‘No. Just that he was by the sea … killing lots of people.’

  ‘He’s a real barrel of laughs this guy. When we do find him I want you to hang back and allow me to take the lead. I’ll try to take him out with one hit.’

  ‘And if that fails?’

  ‘Then you move forward and we hit him in rapid succession. We have to be relentless and try and wear him down. The one thing we can’t do is give him any breathing space. We’ll be in big trouble if we get put on the back foot. Mageletons are difficult to stop once they gain momentum.’

  ‘We can beat him, right?’

  ‘Of course we can but don’t be expecting this to be easy. This guy is very strong, he’s very clever and he’s pure evil. He’ll probably enjoy the challenge and would love nothing more than to kill a couple of Guild agents.’

  ‘You think he’s working alone?’

  ‘I can’t say for sure. He doesn’t seem to be operating at the behest of someone else, but I have a nagging suspicion that Golding has had a hand in all this, someone with a lot of money has to be providing him with a means to travel, and a place to lie low.’ He flicked his cigar end out the open window. ‘That’s not important for the moment. Let’s deal with Zalech first. After that, the Guild can fully investigate how he managed to recover so swiftly from his injuries.’

  We continued along the motorway for what seemed an eternity. We spoke about our tactics, but there was no coherent plan; it was impossible to predict what would happen when we encountered Zalech. Finally, we took the road approaching Portsmouth city centre. I concentrated on how I would tackle Zalech when the time came. I ran over my repertoire of psychokinetic assaults and defences. I could create sturdy shields and could generate a lot of force with my attacks, I knew I was still a novice compared to Zalech and Hunter though. They had both spent years learning from the gifted veterans of the Guild and would be more creative, and unpredictable, than me. Still, I remained composed and confident, despite the flutters of nerves in the pit of my stomach.

  ‘Here we go,’ Hunter growled as he took an exit from the road and dead ahead was the city centre. ‘This route should lead us down town, towards the bus station.’

  ‘I hope we’re not too late.’

  ‘So do I. How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m up for this.’

  ‘You know, it seems like I might have been wrong about you, Bentley.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, if you survive today then you might gain my respect.’ I saw the hint of a smile creeping onto his face. ‘You might.’

  ‘You won’t get rid of me that easily, Hunter. Although I am bit worried about you. You’re no spring chicken and you might not have the vigour for combat these days.’

  ‘I’ve got many a year left in me and I fully intend to see out this day.’

  The road led us through some of the suburban housing areas then into a busier and more built up system of streets with shops and businesses. It seemed like everything was as it should have been, but as we approached the bus station on the quays it was very obvious that something was not quite right.

  ‘Look,’ I said pointing ahead.

  ‘It seems Zalech has arrived before us.’

  There was large crowd of people running from the main street. The traffic on the road became backed up and Hunter brought the car to a
stop.

  ‘They’re all running away from that one street,’ I said. ‘I’ll bet that’s where he is.’

  Hunter didn’t bother replying. He turned the steering wheel and drove the car up onto the centre island of the road then cut across onto another road. Soon we were brought to a halt again. The people were flooding out onto the road and blocking our way. Then we saw two police squad cars appear, the officers inside speaking on their radios. They left their vehicles and were directing the crowd and trying to bring some order to the chaos. The streams of frightened people bustled them our way and one of them turned his attention to us.

  He pointed at Hunter and began shouting, ‘Get this car out of here, you’re blocking up the road!’

  Hunter didn’t obey the order at first, but the cop wasn’t taking no for an answer. He came marching towards us and started shouting his head off.

  ‘I’ll have to back off,’ Hunter said as he shifted the gear stick into reverse. ‘We’ll dump the car on a quieter road then – Bentley, where do you think you’re going?’

  I’d opened the passenger door and was halfway out before Hunter had even noticed. ‘I’m sorry, Hunter,’ I said over my shoulder. ‘There’s no time to waste.’

  ‘Bentley!’

  I jogged away from the car and into the oncoming crowd. People were screaming and jostling each other, a few people fell and others tripped over them increasing the panic amid the heaving mass. I should have been swept along with the crowd, but I created a small psychokinetic shield around my body that people simply bounced off and it allowed me to pass through them with ease.

  By the time I reached the road by the bus station it was virtually empty. The locals had managed to get away and I could see clearly why they had run. Far off down the street was a man surrounded by lifeless bodies. There seemed to be a dozen or more bodies on the roadside, mostly police officers judging by their yellow hi-vis jackets. He was too far away to identify but in my heart I knew it was the man who had murdered my father. It had to be him.

  I picked up the pace, striding along the centre of the road, and I felt my anger rising as I approached the lone figure with his back to me. My power was increasing. I felt strong. I felt ready.