by Lynne Thomas
“Maybe it’s just the Avon lady,” Rhiannon murmurs. Taking a deep breath, she opens the front door. Mr. Fletcher leans against the frame, his finger on the doorbell. He smiles at Rhiannon.
“Well, well, Miss Miles. Aren’t you full of surprises?” Pushing past her, he steps into the hallway. His eyes flit from doorway to doorway, searching.
“I must admit, I hadn’t expected this. Not in a million years.” He glances back and gives her a wink, then moves down the hallway towards the kitchen.
Hunter
I shake off the possibility. I’m being paranoid. Besides, Crin said that the bashrak’s signal didn’t make things squirm in your belly and my belly sure is squirming.
Mr. Fletcher runs his hand over the wall; I can hear his fingernails scratching against the paper. Humming under his breath, he heads for the kitchen.
“You have played out of character on this one, Miss Miles. Offering to shelter people you hate. People who, just yesterday, you were eager to crush under your shiny boot.” His voice holds a degree of wonder. “Truly unexpected. Quite brilliant on her part, but then she is special, so veeeeeery special.”
I creep down the stairs and very, very, carefully, peer around the bottom of the banister.
Rhiannon tries to act innocent, but looks like she’s about to faint. On any other day of the year, acting the innocent would not be a problem for Rhiannon Miles. But not today. Today, the words won’t come.
“I…ah…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Fletcher.”
He smiles and continues his investigation of the kitchen. I retreat behind the safety of the banister.
Hunter.
As the word reverberates in my ears, I realise the extent of the danger I’ve put my friends in. I take another peek towards the kitchen. How can I get them out?
Rhiannon stands in front of the pile of food strewn across the table.
Damn – I’d forgotten about that.
She tries to distract the amused Mr. Fletcher.
“I…um, I’m sorry that I wasn’t at school today. I had to go to the doctor this morning. I was feeling quite sick last night and I had this rash. Mum panicked; you know how mums are, right? She thought it might be Meningitis or something and insisted that I go to the doctor this morning straight away. I should have phoned the school, I know, but…Mr. Fletcher?”
He isn’t listening. He’s looking. And something tells me he’s about to come my way.
I float up the stairs.
Mr. Fletcher turns and strides down the corridor, Rhiannon racing after his retreating back.
“Mr. Fletcher, what are you doing?”
He spins on his heel and grabs her by the shoulders.
“Where is she?”
“P…p…pardon?”
Mr. Fletcher peers at her through narrowed eyes and she does the worst thing possible; her eyes flicker towards the stairs. He follows her impulsive movement and smiles.
Time to go.
I race along the hall towards Rhiannon’s bedroom.
“Thank you, Miss Miles.”
I hear footfalls on the stairs.
“JELLY – HE’S COMING!”
Agatha and Humphrey jump as I burst into the room. In a flurry of movement, Humphrey leaps in front of me and Agatha races to the door and throws her weight against it. She grabs the handle with both hands and braces herself.
I start to tremble. I can’t help it. I wonder if Crin knows that the Hunter has shown himself. I send away the thought. I’m on my own and will have to fight alone. Taking a deep breath, I push Humphrey aside. Turning to Agatha, I command in a low voice, “Get away from the door.”
“But,” Agatha, bewildered, backs away. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she whispers, grabbing a vase from the dressing table and holding it above her head.
Humphrey sees a tennis racket jutting out from under the bed and grabs it.
My chest heaves. I try to gather my thoughts and calm my thundering heartbeat, but it’s hard, a lot harder than levitating some aluminium. I badly need to focus, but seeing my two closest friends in the grip of terror makes it nigh-on-impossible.
The door swings open.
Mr. Fletcher stands in the open doorway, his eyes blazing.
“I knew it was you,” he breathes.
He steps forward. I blink and the door slams shut in his face. Wasting no time, I scan the room for a weapon. My gaze falls on a line of shoes resting at the bottom of the open wardrobe. Reaching, I bring them all floating into a line.
Put them together and what have you got?
I ready myself.
Bibbedy Bobbedy Boo!
The door opens. He stands, perfectly still, blood tricking from his nose. His eyes gleam as he sees the row of floating shoes.
“I knew it.”
I launch the first missile with a toss of my head. An expensive running shoe whistles through the air, flying towards the Hunter’s face.
He stops it in mid air with a twitch of his finger.
Something grabs hold of my insides and twists. I send the rest of the shoes flying through the air at his head.
Mr. Fletcher holds up his hand and the shoes stop dead and fall to the floor with a series of thuds. He advances towards me and I do nothing. I just stand there and watch him come.
Some super alien I am.
Humphrey leaps forward with a strangled yell, swinging the tennis racket. Mr. Fletcher ducks and grabs the strings. He thrusts Humphrey to the floor and, without looking at Agatha, commands her to drop the vase.
Agatha sets the vase down, her eyes on Humphrey. She rushes over to his side. “You OK?”
“I’m fine,” he says, taking her hand.
Agatha glares at Fletcher. If looks could kill, he’d be a corpse.
It’s a pity they can’t kill. I could do with the help.
The Hunter walks towards me. Humphrey tries to get up, but Agatha holds him back. Shaking, I stumble as I try to back away.
He’s going to kill me.
“Aaaaayyyeeeee!”
Or maybe not.
Rhiannon launches herself at Fletcher. He pitches forward as she lands, arms and legs flailing, onto his back. God bless cheerleading practice.
Frantic, he tries to shrug her off, but her arms lock around his neck. They thrash around the room, crashing into walls and furniture and knocking picture frames and a jewellery box onto the floor. He claws at her hands, his face reddening as she presses against his windpipe.
“Ghlecht…olshff…me,” he splutters, peeling Rhiannon’s hands from his throat.
I watch them struggle. On one level, I’m frantic for my friends, and Rhiannon, but something is taking over my emotions, locking down my panic and clearing my mind. An inner voice talks to me, calming me and freeing my mind of dread. The thing that surprises me the most is that it’s not Crin’s voice inside my head; it’s my own. I know what I have to do and it starts with not letting others fight my battles.
Rhiannon screeches. Twirling around the room, she battles to keep her grip as the Hunter tries to shrug her off.
She slips.
I reach and send out invisible hands to catch her as she falls. Rhiannon slumps and hangs in mid air, suspended in an invisible net. Dazed, she sways gently.
I face the Hunter.
“Now you.”
I spread my arms. The air trembles and crackles and my hair stands on end, alive with static. From the corner of my eye, I see little purple sparks dance around my head, doing wonders for my split ends. The buzzing in my ears grows louder.
My eyes blaze.
Fletcher steps towards me –
“Jelly, NO! It’s not what you –
and I unleash hundreds of silvery tendrils. They shoot forward, twisting and turning through the air as they speed towards the Hunter. I lift him off the ground and cocoon him in a spidery chrysalis. He struggles with his invisible bonds, cursing.
I hurl him back against the wall and feel nothing bad
when his head cracks against the doorframe. His body slumps forward and I drop him onto the floor.
Weakened and shaking, I crouch on the ground and, with trembling fingers, brush strands of hair away from my face and try not to be sick.
“Um, Jelly?”
“Hmm?”
Rhiannon hangs, suspended in mid air. She looks like she’s rocking in a hammock, only the hammock isn’t there.
“Any chance of getting out of this thing, whatever it is?”
I guide Rhiannon slowly back to earth. I get up and walk over to her.
“You OK?”
“Sure. Give us a hand up.”
I help her to her feet, wincing as I spot a row of nasty purple bruises developing on her shins.
“Thanks,” I whisper, feeling awkward. “You really did hang in there.”
Rhiannon shrugs. “Couldn’t have guests terrorized in my house, could I?”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
Agatha reluctantly leaves Humphrey’s side and peers at the inanimate Mr. Fletcher. She prods him with the tip of her shoe. He grunts, but doesn’t move. Turning to face me, she smiles a tentative smile.
“Seems like you did it, Jay. He’s out of it.”
Hmmm. I wonder.
“What’s wrong?”
Shrugging, I say,
“It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. Can’t help thinking that it was a bit too easy. I mean, he didn’t put up much of a fight, did he?”
Humphrey grabs my shoulders.
“Jay, if you had seen yourself… hair going crazy, fire in your eyes.”
Agatha nods.
“Im-pre-ssive.”
Well, things could be a lot worse.
Agatha tugs at my sleeve, demanding my attention.
“He’s waking up.” She nods at the crumpled teacher. “What do we do?”
“We should kill him right now, before he does the same to us.”
“Humphrey! You couldn’t kill a worm, never lone another human being,”
Agatha steps forward. “She’s right, Humphrey. We can’t kill him. He’s a person, it would be murder.”
Humphrey blushes. “But he’s not a person, is he? He’s a Hunter thingy from out of space, come here to kill Jelly and any one that gets in the way. Like us. We should end it now, before it’s too late.”
I struggle to keep my waning composure. “And what do you suggest we do with the body? Bury it underneath Rhiannon’s patio?”
Rhiannon squeals. “No way, my mum would kill me!”
Groaning with growing exasperation, I turn to her.
“Calm yourself. It was a poor attempt at sarcasm. But really Humph, I’d like to hear your plan. I’m intrigued that you’re actually entertaining this thought seriously, really I am.”
“But he’s the Hunter,” Humphrey stresses.
“No. I’m not.”
Chapter Twelve
I turn. Mr. Fletcher lies motionless, strapped in his cocoon, but his eyes are open and he is very much awake. Agatha yelps.
“Oh fab, evil dead is awake.” Humphrey grumbles.
I step toward the captive. “No, you’re not what?”
Blue eyes hold mine. He’s totally calm and his voice doesn’t waver.
“The Hunter. I’m not the Hunter.”
It’s a good voice. He should be a hypnotist with that voice.
“Shut up.”
Mr. Fletcher struggles with his bonds. With a sigh, he gives up. Looking at me and me alone, he starts to speak.
“My name is Gregory Thorn. I’m part of a monitor group that gathers and evaluates paranormal and extra-terrestrial activities on earth. We –
“SHUT UP!” I scream, startling everybody in the room.
“We call ourselves Kavalrion,” he goes on in the same calm voice. If he’s not careful, that voice is going to get him dead. “The group was formed in 1896 by a Javorian called Cal Kavalrion Sakiiri.”
“Sakiiri?”
Your name is Camille Sakiiri and you’re from a planet called Javoria..
Crin’s words come back to me.
Fletcher nods. “We continue the legacy of Sakiiri and catalogue accounts of paranormal experiences here on Earth.”
His eyes are begging me to believe him and I hesitate. He goes on with growing confidence.
“When he landed on Earth, Cal was lost, confused, and close to death. He was taken in by a local Innkeeper and nursed back to health, but it was a slow process. During his fever, he rambled about a purple planet with yellow skies. He chanted foreign, alien words, which scared the Innkeeper half to death, and tossed and turned at night muttering about a hunter following him, tracking him. Fearing a witch-hunt, the Innkeeper, Maurice Emanuel Thorn, nursed his patient in secrecy and kept his fears to himself.”
He stops, waiting for a sign that I believe him.
“Go on.”
Humphrey jumps up. “No way, Jelly. This is a trick.”
I pat his hand and turn back to Gregory Thorn.
“I’m not letting him go, Humph, I’m just letting him talk. That’s all.”
Grumbling, Humphrey backs off, taking a seat on the bed next to Rhiannon.
“Fine,” he growls. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rhiannon leans in to Humphrey and pats his knee and nods her head in an ‘I’m with you, kiddo’ kind of way.
I nod to Thorn. “You’ve got five minutes.”
He doesn’t waste time.
“Cal made a slow recovery. He was grateful to the Innkeeper; indebted to him for his kindness until death, but he didn’t trust him. He couldn’t understand why Maurice had put himself in such danger for a stranger. He plotted to escape once his strength was back. He would have run were it not for one fortuitous event.”
“Three minutes.”
Thorn’s left eye starts to twitch.
“Maurice took Cal his breakfast at dawn every morning and left it at the side of his bed. He couldn’t risk taking it any later, for fear of bumping into other guests staying at the Inn. He hid the foreigner in the attic room, which he never rented out and was mostly forgotten about. One morning, Cal woke early. Hearing approaching footsteps, he drooped his eyelids and pretended to sleep. What happened next would change the course of both their lives”.
Thorn hesitates.
Humphrey points at him but looks at me.
“He’s making it up Jay! Can’t you see?”
Thorn starts talking quickly.
“The door swung open and Maurice entered the room carrying a tray. The door closed without him touching it.”
“Go on.”
Thorn wets his lips.
“Maurice bent forward and placed the tray on the bedside cabinet. As he turned away, he caught the rim of a glass with his elbow, pitching it clean off the edge of the tray. The glass fell towards the floorboards. On impulse, Cal sat up in bed and reached out to catch it, but the glass stopped mid-flight and placed itself back on the tray, in its original place.
Maurice had kept Cal’s secret so diligently because he had been keeping one of his own. The Innkeeper was telekinetic; he could levitate objects and move them with nothing more than his thoughts. On that day, an alliance was formed between the two men that lasted the rest of their lives and beyond. They would strive to understand the mysteries of the Earth until Cal had gathered enough knowledge to get him home, to Javoria. You’re home, Camille.”
I jump and turn away.
“I don’t know that your story is true and, even if it is, any Hunter would have that information at his disposal.” I know that my voice sounds strange, but it won’t gain strength. I walk to the window and stare at the avenue below. I hug myself, feeling tired, afraid and responsible: responsible for getting my friends involved in this madness and responsible for keeping them alive.
“You haven’t convinced me that you’re not the Hunter.”
“Are you so convinced that I am?”
Agatha appears my elbow. She murmurs in
my ear.
“He’s bleeding, Jay. That knock on the head you gave him might have done real damage. Should we do something? I mean,” she glances back at the man pinned to the ground. “What if he is telling the truth and he dies or something? We’ll have killed a teacher.”
“He’s not a teacher, either way, is he? He’s been lying all along, why should I believe him now?” I stamp my foot. “No. There is no way I’m letting him go until he gives us some concrete evidence of who he is.”
I stomp over to Fletcher. Using my powers, I bring him upright.
“Convince me that you’re not the Hunter. I want proof.”
He throws me a smile so similar to Crin’s that it freaks me out.
“Take off my glasses.”
I blink. “Huh?”
“My glasses. Take them off. You’ve got me pinned, so you’ll have to do it yourself. Go ahead, take them off.”
I lift his glasses free. Blue eyes stare back at me. Confused, I can’t look away.
“Take out my contact lenses.”
Something uncurls itself in my stomach.
“No.”
Fletcher curses under his breath.
“Come on, Jelly. Take out my contact lenses.”
My hair swings as I shake my head.
“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Rhiannon leaps off the bed. “You lot are so squeamish.” She pushes me out of the way. “Here, let me do it.” She leans forward and opens his eyelid with her finger and thumb. With her other hand, she carefully pinches the lens away from Thorn’s eye.
I turn away.
Agatha screws up her face. “Yuk, that’s gross.”
Rhiannon ignores her. “Hey! They’re tinted! Cool.”
Thorn blinks. “Good, now the other one.”
Rhiannon repeats the procedure with the other eye and flounces back to take her seat on the bed, the contact lenses collected in the palm of her hand.
“The glasses aren’t magnified,” he says in his low, even voice. “Neither are the contacts, but both were necessary for two reasons. I didn’t want to alert the Hunter if he saw me and I had to disguise my real identity from the descendent of Cal Sakiiri until it was safe to reveal myself.” He pauses. “Jelly. Turn around.”