Hunter

by Adrianne Lemke

  “If you want, you can bring some food to him, Hannah,” my tone softened. “That way he won’t have to wait for his supper.” And she wouldn’t be in harm’s way if we came across the killer in the woods.

  She hesitated, clearly torn between coming with us, and keeping her promise to bring a man his supper. “Just bring him something, Hannah. And cover for us. Tell him I needed to get some stuff from home or something. There’s a restaurant right down the street that has good take-out. When we come back, we can go to my house and get some sleep. Both of you are welcome.”

  Accepting the plan, she walked down the sidewalk toward the restaurant, and I turned to Mark. “Let’s go.”

  “Do you happen to have a flashlight?” He asked as we climbed into my car. “The woods are going to be pretty dark already, and if you plan on doing any searching we might want to be able to see.”

  Lack of light never bothered me, but I shrugged. “We can stop at my house to get one. One of the cabins on the list is pretty close to the paths behind my house anyway.”

  Stopping at the house would also make Hannah’s story more credible, and we wouldn’t have to lie about stopping there if we were asked.

  The trip to my house was uneventful. Mark glanced around curiously, while I grabbed a couple flashlights from the kitchen drawer. We headed out the back door, and locked it behind us. When we reached the edge of my property, I stopped Mark while I knelt and released the trap that would have sprung if he continued forward.

  The trap wasn’t sprung, so it didn’t seem like the killer came back. After my confrontation with the man, I was determined to use any method to catch him. I used a huge amount of energy to set a trap in the earth. I attempted to make it so the trap would only go off if he entered my property again.

  Unfortunately, the only way to test if it would work was if he tripped it. I wasn’t willing to let Mark walk through the area when I didn’t know if he would set off the trap or not. If he got hurt because I made a mistake in how it was put together… well, that wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

  Setting traps was something I practiced since my interactions with Mason and Kindred, and I got pretty good at them. Anything more complicated than my original holes covered with a thin layer of earth, took a lot out of me. Way more energy than my normal tracking. But, once I set a trap, all I had to do was release a small area of it to walk through. Resetting the area wasn’t quite as energy consuming.

  But it was still hard, and my vision doubled after resetting the trip-trigger of the trap. Mark had to catch me when I stumbled forward. Trying to walk right after setting it was apparently not a good idea. “Sorry.”

  He watched me quietly, not questioning me when I stopped him. My reaction now caused his eyebrows to furrow, and a small frown appeared on his face. “What did you do?” he asked.

  I explained, but didn’t go into detail about what the trap would do to the man it was intended to ambush. As a man sworn to uphold the law, I wasn’t sure he’d approve. Based on the look he was giving me, he had some idea of what information was being withheld. Thankfully, he didn’t question my explanation.

  “Let’s get to the first area,” he suggested, waving me forward into the shadowy woods. We barely started moving before he had to turn on his flashlight to avoid the obstacles on the path. Soon, the only light was from the occasional glimpses of the moon through the trees, and the beam from the flashlight. The area was quiet. Only the occasional chirping of crickets and some rustling in the underbrush broke the silence. Our footsteps crunched through fallen branches, and I could hear Mark’s quiet breathing next to me.

  Once we reached the edge of the first property, I held my hand in front of Mark to stop him. Someone was moving around outside the small cabin. “Check it out,” he whispered. “I’ll cover the area.”

  Probably an unnecessary precaution, but I had been known to get tunnel vision and completely miss what was happening nearby, so I nodded. Without kneeling, I sent some power through the ground toward the cabin in order to feel out the footprints in the area. The man who was outside the cabin was not the killer. From people’s imprints, I could get some idea of how big a person was. The height was difficult to tell, but I was usually pretty close in my guesses. I based them on the person’s stride, the size of their feet, and the depth of the echoes. Not an exact science, by any means, but often fairly accurate. The man outside the cabin appeared to be the wrong height and weight for our killer. The heartbeat and respirations I felt thudding through the ground indicated he was most likely under the influence of alcohol, if not something stronger.

  “Fat and drunk,” I said quietly. “Not our guy. He hasn’t been here. At least not recently.”

  The breath Mark let out sent vibrations through his body into the earth, and I felt the quickened heartbeat begin to slow back to normal. He’d been nervous. Something about being in a dark wooded area made him jumpier than normal. “You okay?”

  Mark turned toward me sharply, and almost made me flinch away. “Fine!” He bit out harshly. He took a deep breath and spoke again. “Why?” His voice was full of curiosity now, and I wondered what caused the normally unflappable agent to snap.

  Hesitant, I only answered when the other man kept silent, waiting for a response. “Your heart rate was up, and you were breathing pretty quickly. Were you anticipating a problem?”

  He didn’t answer my question, instead asking another. “The breathing part is understandable, but how could you possibly know my heart rate was elevated?” His voice held a note of disbelief, which made me remember: no one knew about that part of my ability, except Sam.

  “It was something I discovered after trying to run away from Kindred a couple years ago.” I started to explain. “One of Mason’s goons apparently holed up in the little town outside the city, and attacked me at the police station there. During the fight, I fully encased him in hardened dirt, and discovered I could feel his heartbeat and breathing pattern through the ground.” I glanced down, although I knew Mark couldn’t see me well in the dim light from the flashlight. My voice was soft and full of regret as I finished, “That’s the only reason I didn’t kill him.”

  “Why?” His voice broke the flow of memory from when I had a hard time figuring out whether I was a killer or not. “Because you could feel them slowing down?”

  I kept my gaze down, shook my head, and answered, “No. Because I never felt it before.” His face, when I looked up, showed his continued confusion. “It startled me. The only reason I didn’t kill him was because feeling anything other than footsteps shocked me. Enough that I stopped controlling the power, and the dirt he was trapped in crumbled. The cop I was with stepped in as well.”

  Mark took a step toward me, but I stepped back shaking my head. “No,” I said, not really sure what the objection was for, but feeling the need to say it. “I would have killed him, Mark, but that’s not what this story is for. Since that day I’ve been able to feel everybody’s heartbeats and breathing patterns. Most of the time I can filter them out, but some days all I can feel is the constant beating of stranger’s hearts, and the strange flow of their breathing. What I’m telling you, Mark…”

  “You’re telling me the power has grown. We’re nearly a mile away from the cabin, and you felt the heartbeat and breathing from a fat drunk man. And you’re also telling me you weren’t trying to sense my heartbeat in particular, right?”

  Letting out a breath I replied, “You’re right here, Mark. Right in my space where I rarely allow people. What I’m saying is, when someone is this close, I can’t help but feel it.”

  My explanation had a sense of urgency that—I only realized a moment ago—came from fearing Mark would get mad that I… I don’t know, spied on him or something. That he couldn’t do anything near me I wouldn’t be able to sense in some way. But his heart rate remained steady and he stepped toward me, slowly, as if concerned I would back away again.

  When I didn’t move, he put his hand on my sho
ulder. “It’s okay, Jason. I was only curious about the ability, not mad you used it. And don’t you ever think less of yourself for what happened at that police department. The man attacked you in plain view of a cop. If it happened to a regular person, the officer would probably have shot him. It was most likely only shock about your power that prevented the man from being shot. So in actuality,” his voice was almost pleading with me to believe him, “you ended up saving his life.”

  Not quite certain he was right, since the cop had been too dazed to do more than watch, I nodded. I just wanted to get back to work. “Anyway, this isn’t the right place. We should get a move on.”

  I could feel him staring at me, but started walking deeper into the woods, trusting he’d follow. He muttered a curse under his breath and followed, apparently not convinced I agreed with him. It didn’t matter anyway. In the past, there were moments I wanted to kill someone so badly I could taste it.

  Now was no different.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Sam

  When my mother disappeared—presumed dead from drug use—and left me with my father and brother, I’d been excited. Living with mom had never been enjoyable. She’d spent most of the time high or drunk, and was rarely home unless it was with an “uncle of the week” as I'd dubbed her many boyfriends. She was never overtly cruel, but was definitely not mother material. Forgiving her for leaving Jason with our father was nearly impossible. I’d been very young when my mother and I left, but even then I knew Jason wasn’t safe with our father.

  There was one piece of advice she gave me that I still held on to: no matter what life throws at you, make sure you remain true to yourself. Since discovering the ability to sense my brother’s emotions, a lot of my time was spent separating my own feelings from his. Sometimes, it was hard to be sure how successful I was.

  It was especially hard to tell, now that there were two other personalities clashing with my own. Although I knew some of what I was doing—as good as it felt—was not true to my own personality. Messing with Hunter in order to get him to fear Jason and potentially make a costly mistake while dealing with him was definitely me. I wanted my brother to have every possible advantage when facing this monster.

  But enjoying driving Jason to desperation? That was not something I would normally get pleasure from. The amusement from earlier faded, and I wondered if part of Hunter’s personality had made its presence known. He liked to play games with people, and make them feel afraid. So raising Jason’s anxiety levels, instead of trying to raise his confidence, was definitely Hunter.

  Telling myself it was only Hunter’s influence causing me to enjoy my brother’s suffering was necessary. The… lie? half-truth? …was needed to avoid my guilt about manipulating him and liking it. Although the ability to influence emotions was fun, it might be necessary to avoid affecting my brother until I knew for sure it was my own personality taking the wheel.

  Hunter left me alone hours ago, and I could still sense him. His emotions weren’t as overwhelming now as when he was in the house, so I was pretty certain that my own personality was in charge right now.

  One positive came from my mind tricks; I managed to make Hunter care enough about my welfare to pad the chain that held me and give me pain relief for my headache. My recently freed wrist was throbbing, but not nearly as badly as it had while chained. And Hunter did an awesome job padding the manacle when he put it on my right hand. He wrapped the padding around the whole wrist piece, so no hard edges poked through. It was still uncomfortable being chained, but it didn’t come with the soreness and aching it had for the last couple days. Without the pain as a distraction, I was able to think more clearly.

  Staring at the ceiling, thoughts of home and spending time with my brother began to take over. The desire to see the friends I’d struggled with on the streets, and Alice and Hannah who welcomed us as family, also hit me. When this was over, it was time to go home. This place, as much as Jason wanted it to be, was not home. We had a house, I went to school, and he went to work. But we had no family here. I made some friends, but none of the kids here knew anything about what Jason and I went through, so I was set apart. Heck, most of them didn’t even know I lived only with my brother. They all just assumed my parents were around somewhere.

  Fighting back the tears threatening to escape, I finally began to feel afraid. There was always the possibility Hunter would tire of his game with Jason, and simply kill him. Or me. I might never see my brother or other family again, and the sense of loss paralyzed me. The tears escaped, and I rubbed at my cheeks angrily.

  No! This man would not succeed where so many others had failed. I would see my family again. I would use Hunter’s fears against him, and try to build up Jason’s confidence and anger during his inevitable fight with the other man. And when we were reunited, I would tell my brother everything I could do, and what I had done to him. “I’m sorry, Jason.” My voice came out as a whisper. “I know you’re sensitive about being manipulated, especially since Kindred, but I don’t see an alternative. Hope you can forgive me.” This apology I would repeat to him in person, once I told him everything I had done.

  All I could do was pray he could accept the apology after what I was about to do.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Hunter

  My parents had always worried about me during my childhood. They worried that I never got along with other children. They worried about my violent experimentation on living animals. They worried when I experimented with drugs. It was only when I became good at hiding my strange interests that they were able to stop worrying. I hid my violence behind a love of hunting. If I shot an animal several times in places that would cause it more pain; it wasn’t sadistic or evil, it was bad aim. The drugs weren’t much of an issue, so it was easy to stop using. Pretending to get along with other kids became easier with time, and I joined in pick-up games of basketball or baseball. Any injuries during such games were usually attributed to ‘accidental’ collisions on the court or at the bases.

  Now my parents are oh so proud of their only son. Not only had I managed to grow up without ending up in prison, but I also married a nice girl and got a regular job. They never realized just how horrifying and chafing this life felt to me, and would be terrified to know the truth. My tension released only when I was able to escape to my refuge and hunt.

  Their pride was tested now. My wife had called them to tell them she was leaving me. They called me shortly after I ignored all the calls from the woman, and wondered why she decided to leave. Of course I played innocent, claiming to not know why she would leave when all I wanted was to find a more interesting job, and to spend a couple days or weeks at the cabin to relax before going job hunting again. In honesty, I never anticipated her leaving me. I always thought it would be the other way around.

  The messages my wife left shed a bit of light on it. Apparently, she couldn’t handle my distancing myself from her, and she somehow discovered my affair with a coworker. Fine. If she wanted to leave, that made things easier for me. I called her, leaving a message that I’d be by for my things sometime in the next few weeks, and she was welcome to have the divorce papers drawn up. I would sign them when she sent them to me at the cabin.

  All of my family drama was happening while I sat in my car across the street from the police station, waiting for Jason and his two new friends to come out. It was bad enough when he was working with the lead detective on my case, but the two new arrivals were unknown entities. Obviously they were involved in law enforcement somehow, but how did he know them?

  It wasn’t until almost six o’clock when they came out again, minus the detective. They had a discussion outside the precinct before the two men left, and the young woman went in the opposite direction. She was heading toward the diner. Torn for a moment, I watched in the fading twilight as the three people I wanted to follow separated. The girl was alone. Jason had been so happy to see her. She must be someone who could help him find me, and, by extension, his broth
er.

  This girl knew Jason, and might be able to tell me more about him. She could also be a cause of more distraction for him next time I faced him. I followed her down the street, seeing the long blonde hair shining whenever the sunshine hit it. She was tall and athletic. Beautiful and strong. No wonder Jason seemed to like her. I didn’t usually take women, but she could be interesting. By now the apprehension I felt at the thought of my next encounter with Jason did not surprise me. The possibility of throwing him off by taking another person he cared about was too good to pass up.

  My new target made it to the diner, so I waited down the street for her to come out. When she did, I used a slightly different tactic to get her into the car. I wanted to speak to her right away, so having her unconscious would be inconvenient. She walked past my car, and I opened the door. “You’re a friend of Jason’s, right?” I asked when she glanced at me.

  Green eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she nodded slowly. “How ‘bout his little brother, you care about him too?”

  “I care about both of them,” she said. “Who are you? Do you know them?”

  “Yes,” I said, pulling out my pistol. “I know them quite well. Now, if you don’t want to be the reason I shoot little Sammy, you’ll come with me quietly. If you scream or run away, I won’t chase you, but I’ll go back to where I have him and put a bullet into him. What do you say?”

  She wanted to yell for help. The desire was clear in the way her green eyes darted around, searching for assistance. Seeing none, she didn’t fight when I took her by the arm with the gun jabbed into her side. We walked back to my car. “There, see? That wasn’t so hard.” When she was in the back seat, I handed her a pair of handcuffs. “Cuff yourself behind your back, please.”

  Glaring at me, she did as she was told. Once she clipped the cuffs closed, I double checked them to make sure they were tight. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I started driving back to the house. “I have some questions about who you are.” I spoke casually, unwilling to let her know how thrown I felt by the arrival of the other man and herself. “But the main thing I want to know right now is where Jason was going with that other guy. Also, who is he?” Knowing the people Jason was with could be important if I went to meet them.