Hunter

by Adrianne Lemke

  “Fear,” she stated simply.

  Moving away from her a little bit, I decided to try for the nail in the wall again. So far there was no sign of it loosening, but it was the only thing I could reach that might be able to help set us free. Then Jason wouldn’t have to worry about us anymore.

  While I worked, Hannah watched with the interest of someone who had nothing to do for far too long. “I think it was more than that.” If it was as simple as fear, I would have been able to pinpoint it. “Part of it was fear,” I agreed. “I also think Jason was worried you wouldn’t want to talk to him, because he waited so long to call. He became so used to seclusion, that the idea of opening up again was a foreign concept.”

  “Still a kind of fear,” she argued half-heartedly.

  Conceding the point, I once again realized that the nail was too well embedded to take out without a claw hammer. The weight of the manacle, despite the padding, was stifling. I constantly fought the ache in my arm, as well as the headache that was prevalent since my forced inactivity. “We need to move more,” I said. “Somehow we need to get loose, but there’s nothing I can think of that will lead to our freedom.”

  Nothing besides my plan—already in the works—of messing with Hunter’s few emotions enough to distract him, and give Jason the opening he needed to win. But that wasn’t going to be easy when both men’s heightened emotions threatened to take over during a fight. It was hard enough for me to stay… well, me… without having their feelings stirred up throughout the confrontation.

  There’s also this problem: even if Jason wins against Hunter, there is no guarantee Hunter will tell him where we are being kept. I’m still working on somehow using my ability to send a message to Jason, but I’m not sure it’s possible.

  For now, Jason is our only hope.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Hunter

  The day after my confrontation with Jason was awful. I didn’t have the energy to consider even spying on my prey, and my entire body ached. For most of the day I lay in bed, hoping the pain would ease enough that movement would actually be possible. My every thought revolved around how to repay the man who injured me. He was presumably similarly injured, but it didn’t seem like enough.

  Through most of the day, it was all I could do to drag myself upstairs to leave food and water for my two captives, and make sure they hadn’t managed to escape. Both looked at me with such loathing it was a wonder I didn’t burst into flames from the pure malice. Their hatred didn’t bother me in the slightest. What did bother me was that my healthy fear of a worthy adversary was quickly turning to terror that I wouldn’t be able to win against him. Despite what I told my prisoners, I wasn’t convinced my powers would prevail, even if I stopped holding back.

  Maybe there was a lesson in our battle. Holding back wasn’t an option. If my power wasn’t enough to kill him, perhaps, if I stopped holding back, it would make me powerful enough to capture him. The next couple days would be the most opportune time to go after him, since he was injured and likely not able to protect himself quite as readily.

  Regrettably, I also was in no shape to guard myself adequately. By the end of the day the bruises still throbbed, and my muscles still ached. Despite the pain, I forced myself out of bed to stretch so they would begin to loosen. It hurt, but I felt I should be able to go after Jason soon. In between stretching and exercising, I once again tried to get more intel on my target. Neither Sam nor Hannah seemed inclined to change their original story that Jason was so secretive he never shared full knowledge of his abilities with anyone, including those he was closest to.

  The way Sam stared through me also made me feel uneasy. It was like he could tell everything about me with just a single look, and nothing about me impressed him. Even when I threatened him, I barely got a rise out of him. All he ever said is I didn’t stand a chance against Jason. He definitely had a hero-worship thing going for big brother, and I wondered how distraught he would be when I won. If I won.

  Three days. That was my absolute limit. Even one day of inactivity was mind-numbing, and my boredom, most likely, would drive me to check in on Jason soon. My prey was out there waiting for me, and I had enough of sitting around. Of course I was capable of patiently waiting for the correct time to strike, but for any kind of advantage against a potentially stronger opponent, the attack had to happen before Jason fully recovered.

  One positive is that my injuries were certain to be less severe. When Jason threw me, I hadn’t hit anything but the ground. When I flung Jason in retaliation, he slammed into a tree. He had been severely dazed when I dragged myself over to him, but I was certain he remembered the encounter.

  The man with him was barely worth my attention. Dropping the stranger was simple. He had frozen with shock while Jason and I fought. It seemed to me the shock hadn’t been purely due to the revelation of my powers, but also about the viciousness of Jason’s attack. At least that’s how I read the look of fright he sent Jason’s way while the other man wasn’t paying attention. So even if he knew about Jason’s power, it seemed he never saw it in action before that night. The only threat from him would be if he got over his panic, and managed to draw his weapon on me before I could drop him again. Bullets still travel faster than I can react.

  Finally leaving the house was like being released from prison. My muscles felt looser, and movement came with only a small amount of discomfort. My phone rang as I climbed into the car. Twisting to buckle the seatbelt made me wince, my back apparently not as loose as I thought. Checking the caller ID, I saw it was one of my friends in low places. “Hello, Doctor,” I said, slight derision in my voice for the man’s chosen code name. Even a man such as myself could scorn another for being even more despicable. I may kill my victims, but his victims almost always begged to die.

  Although, I suppose I had little room to cast stones in this case, since he would be the most likely buyer for Jason. “Hunter.” His voice was nasally and pretentious. The Doctor was a man I thoroughly loathed, but he would be willing to pay my asking price for a man with Jason’s abilities. He wanted to study Jason and figure out why he was able to do the things he could do, and by extension, why I could do them. If he ever found the reason, I wanted to know. However, the Doctor couldn’t know about my abilities, or he was likely to send his collectors after me and use me in his experiments.

  “I was wondering when I could expect delivery on the specimen we discussed earlier,” he continued.

  Since I never promised Jason would go to him, his question seemed a bit odd. “As I told you last time we spoke: I simply know where the specimen is, and was wondering if there would be a market for said object if I am able to acquire it,” I explained again, keeping my tone even, but with a slight hint of impatience. “Now that I know there is an interest, I will keep you in mind if I obtain it and if your price is right.”

  He huffed a bit, but knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to trying to threaten me into doing what he wanted. “Very well.” His haughty voice now sounded like it was coming through clenched teeth. “I will strive to wait patiently for news of the auction.” The call ended abruptly, and I wondered if—by telling people about a man with strange powers—I’d woken a sleeping beast. None of the men I contacted were patient people, and all would be eager for a chance to study someone like Jason. None would be gentle.

  And if I failed to deliver after whetting their appetites, they would come after me.

  FORTY-SIX

  Jason

  Despite my best intentions, Mark ended up making both the call to Alice and the call to Detective Nickels. Alice planned to come right away, saying she would have Dan tell their captain she had a family emergency that couldn’t wait. Nickels also came right away since he was worried when Hannah never returned from getting supper. Mark helped me get a shirt on before Nickels arrived. “What in the world happened to you?” The Detective asked incredulously when he came in and saw my injuries. Mark was also walking with a limp he coul
dn’t hide. Apparently he twisted his ankle or something when the killer dropped him into a hole.

  Exchanging a look with Mark, I allowed myself to dive headfirst into the explanation. “Scott, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I began. Nickels’ eyes darted to me when I, once again, used his first name. Since we met, I’d held him at arm’s length, not wanting anyone else to be put in danger for knowing my secrets. We were definitely past that now, and using his first name on a regular basis was my way of showing him I was ready to let him in. “I probably won’t ever tell you everything. Some of it is too personal to share, and some is no longer pertinent.” Mark looked up at this, seeming to disbelieve my statement.

  He was right, of course. Everything from my past is what made me how I am now; distrustful, fearful, secretive, etc. Nothing from my past was irrelevant to my present, but that didn’t make me more likely to share. “What I’m about to tell you is something I’ve only willingly shared with eight people in my life. One of whom is now dead.” I choked a little at this, the guilt over Erin’s death still eating at me, but I continued. “And two are being held prisoner by a man who now hunts me. Of the people who have figured out my secret, there are only two I trust. Several others are in prison or dead. Some by my hand in self-defense after they tried their absolute best to kill me, and the others who know about me.”

  “Why are you telling me all this, Jason?” Scott asked warily.

  Meeting his eyes, I explained, “I want you to know the risk involved in knowing about me.” Despite my best efforts, my eyes began to burn with tears. “Too many people have been hurt because of this secret, Scott. I want you to be very sure you want to be involved before I tell you anything more.”

  “What did they do to you?” He was curious, but also a bit wary. I approved of his caution and decided to show him the risk first hand. Moving slowly I began to unbutton my shirt, motioning for Mark to help me when my back and shoulders were too stiff to get the sleeves off. Scott looked on in open sympathy, and barely restrained rage when the evidence of my injuries was revealed.

  Unlike with Mark earlier, when the removal of the shirt was less planned and more necessary, I felt ashamed of the multitudes of scars marring my body and began trying to cover them again. Scott’s voice stopped me. “Who’s ‘M’; and please tell me he is one of the ones you killed.”

  Trevor Mason. I killed him after he tortured me, and tried to change me into his weapon. He was the first I killed. Immediately after he died, I felt he had deserved to suffer longer. I spent a lot of time wishing I would have made him struggle in agony for what he did to Erin, Sam, and myself. Even now I sometimes found myself regretting how quickly he died. Most often now, my feeling of guilt was for using my powers to kill someone, even if he had deserved it. Using my powers to kill was easy. Sometimes holding back was the hard part. Sensing my reluctance to answer, Mark responded for me. “He died when we came in to rescue Jason.” He told the truth, but only part of it.

  “Good,” Scott said. “Anyone who brands another human being doesn’t deserve to live.” The burn scar tingled, and I rubbed at it self-consciously. I avoided eye contact with the other men, still feeling awkward about my exposed scars. “How did you get the bruises and the head injury?” he asked, apparently able to tell I didn’t want to discuss the older injuries anymore.

  “Part of how he got injured is involved in the secret he will share with you, if you feel it’s worth the risk.” Mark answered for me again.

  When the room remained silent for several moments I looked up to see Scott studying Mark’s face intently. “Was it worth it for you?” he asked finally.

  Mark glanced at me quickly before answering, “I was one of those who found out by accident. He never told me his secret. I discovered it. I also discovered a young man in desperate need of people he could trust. I wasn’t able to help much during his recovery, since I was on assignment for the bureau at the time, but I have never regretted knowing. He’s a good kid, and I can help him better by knowing his story.”

  Scott nodded. “Tell me,” he demanded gently, settling down in a chair across from the sofa where I sat.

  Glancing toward Mark, I began to explain my power. I explained how I would prefer to use it only for tracking, but circumstances dictated the use of the destructive power more often than I would have liked. “I can show you, if you want,” I offered, my shirt back in place over the fresh bruises. “We can go into the woods out back, and I can show you what I did to the killer. And, I guess, also what he did to me.”

  The story would have only taken a few moments to tell, if I hadn’t stumbled over the idea of sharing with another person. As it was, it took almost half an hour to explain that I had the power to track people based on the way they walk, and the echoes they leave behind. I also told him about my ability to cause earthquakes, and raise the earth to use as a defensive—and sometimes offensive—weapon. Yet again I was sharing the fact that I am a dangerous person with a police officer. Not an easy thing to do, but he never interrupted or acted like he didn’t believe me.

  I did, however, realize he probably wouldn’t fully believe me until he saw my powers for himself. “When we found Shawn Henderson’s body… there was an earthquake. That was…” His voice trailed off as he kept his questioning gaze on me.

  With a slight gulp, and a glance down at the floor, I nodded. “Yup. That was me. Let’s just say I have too much personal experience with slit throats, and leave it at that, okay?” My tone was slightly more pleading than normal, but I shared enough for today. Telling Scott about Kindred, and all of the people killed in my name, was too much.

  Searching my face for a moment, he nodded. “Sure,” he said agreeably, but with a hint of confused anger. Or so it seemed to me.

  “I just…” Not sure what to say, I stopped and stared down at my hands which were clasped in my lap.

  When he put a hand on my shoulder, I startled and met his concerned eyes. “It’s okay, Jason. I know you’ve been through the ringer. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m willing to listen. You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly okay with either option.”

  Scott was only a couple years older than me, but the way he looked at me was the way I felt about Sam; like a protective older brother, wanting to shield him from all the bad things in the world. Not something I was used to having directed at me from anyone other than Alice, and more recently Mark. “Thank you, Scott.” I was sincerely thankful for the offer. Although it was doubtful I’d take him up on it, more information might come out at some point. “Help me up, then we’ll go into the woods, and I’ll show you exactly what I am capable of.” I meant it. If we were going to be allies against someone who has similar abilities to mine, Mark and Scott need to know everything I am capable of. Mostly so I can do what’s necessary without explaining myself every step of the way.

  At least all the things I am aware of that I can do. Over the last few years, my powers have grown and changed, so it was possible they would continue to change in the future. Bracing against the pain in my back I stood, leaning on Scott as he tried to gently help me up. “Thanks,” I muttered while getting my bearings. My head was spinning, and I had to take a few deep breaths before feeling steady enough to walk. Even then, I walked near Mark so he could take my weight if I lost my balance.

  It took only a few minutes to get outside, and only a couple more for me to crouch down with my right hand lightly touching the ground to make sure we were alone. “No one is nearby, and you both need to relax.”

  Mark immediately began taking slower breaths, and his previously fast heartbeat slowed slightly. Scott just looked at me in confusion, eyes still darting around the dark woods nervously. “Sorry, Jason. I almost forgot about that,” Mark said. “No secrets from our friend here,” he added to Scott. “Part of his ability to read echoes and vibrations through the ground is that he can feel the beating of our hearts and the breaths we take. I only found th
at out last night.”

  “Can’t really help it right now. You guys were just attacked out here not that long ago, so I’m feeling a little on edge right now,” Scott said, still nervous.

  I gave an aborted shrug, stopping when the muscles in my back protested the movement. “Most likely he’ll be hurting tonight too, so I doubt he’s still around. Besides, I just told you no one else is out here, so I’m going to start.”

  Not sure exactly where to begin, I decided to show him the way I first showed Mark. Both men watched, with the assistance of their flashlights, as I concentrated and caused the surface dirt about ten feet away from where I crouched, to scratch away, leaving words behind. When I finished it read: I CAN SEND MESSAGES.

  My friends—it stunned me that I felt comfortable enough to consider both of them as such—both seemed a bit surprised. “So far, I’ve only tested it from about five miles away. The further it travels, the longer it takes to reach, but it does take some time for the message to reach whoever I’m sending it to.”

  “Uh… Okay. What kind of distance are you able to cover when it comes to feeling specific people’s footsteps?” Mark asked. Scott watched silently, waiting for my answer.

  An answer I didn’t really have. “As of a few days ago I would have said about five miles, but when I found out Sam was missing… let’s just say it was further and deeper than I’ve been able to reach before. So I don’t have an accurate answer for you right now.”

  Lifting my hand wearily, I asked, “Can we finish this sometime in the next couple days? I don’t have enough strength to show you anything else tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said quickly. He and Mark carefully helped me to my feet. “I have to file the report on your attack, and on Hannah’s abduction.”