The Hunter; The Chase; The Kill

by L. J. Smith

  Every head turned.

  The boy stepped out of the shadows.

  He was just as beautiful as he had been in the store. But here, against the backdrop of this quaint and fussy room, he looked even more exotic. His hair shone in the dimness like white cat’s fur or mountain snow. He was wearing a black vest that showed the smooth, hard muscles of his bare arms, and pants that looked like snakeskin. His eyes were heavy-lidded, shielded by long lashes. He was smiling.

  Summer gasped. “The picture. The paper doll in the box. It’s him —”

  “The Shadow Man,” Michael said hoarsely.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Tom said. Lip curled, he looked the apparition up and down. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?”

  The boy in black took another step forward. Jenny could see the impossible daylight color of his eyes now, though he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze swept over the others, and Jenny could see it affect them, like a wave of cold air that caused them to draw together. She could see each of them reacting as they looked into his face and saw—something there. Something that caused their eyes to go wide and suspicion to turn to fear.

  “Why don’t you call me Julian?”

  “Is that your name?” Tom said, much more quietly.

  “It’s as good as anything else.”

  “Whoever you are, we’re not scared of you,” Dee said suddenly, letting go of Jenny and stepping toward. It sounded like the truth, as if Dee, anyway, was not afraid, and it seemed to encourage the others.

  “We want to know what’s going on,” Tom said, loudly again.

  “We haven’t done anything to you. Please just let us go home,” Summer added.

  “You can’t go home again,” Zach murmured. It was the first time he’d spoken. He was wearing a strange half smile.

  “Bud, you’re in worse shape than I am,” Michael told him in a low voice. Zach didn’t answer.

  Only Jenny stayed back, not moving, not speaking. Her sense of dread was getting stronger all the time. She was remembering a look like a starving tiger’s.

  “At least tell us what we’re doing here,” Audrey said.

  “Playing the Game.”

  They all stared at him.

  “You agreed to play. You read the rules.”

  “But—playing? What playing? You mean—”

  “Don’t talk to him about it, Mike,” Tom interrupted. “We’re not going to play his stupid game.”

  He’s so scared, Jenny thought. He still thinks this is all his fault. But it isn’t, Tom, it isn’t. . . .

  “I mean,” the boy in black said to Michael, “that you all swore you were playing of your own free will and that you knew the Game was real. You invoked the rune Uruz.” He sketched a shape in the air with his finger, an inverted U. Jenny noticed that the snake tattoo she’d seen on his wrist in the store had vanished. “You pierced the veil between the worlds.”

  Audrey laughed, a sharp false sound like glass shattering.

  Michael breathed, “This is nuts.”

  Dee’s expression said that she agreed. “What’s a rune ?”

  Audrey opened her mouth, then shut it again tightly, shaking her head. Julian’s lip quirked and he lowered his voice.

  “It’s magic,” he said. “A mystical letter from an ancient alphabet. In this case designed to let you walk between the worlds. If you don’t understand it, you shouldn’t be messing with it.”

  “We didn’t mean to mess with anything,” Summer whispered. “It’s all a mistake.”

  The fear in the room had heightened. Jenny could sense it like a yellow aura enveloping them all.

  “No mistake. You chose to play the Game,” the boy said again. “Now you play until you win—or I do.”

  “But why ?” Summer said, almost sobbing. “What do you want from us?”

  Julian smiled, then looked past her. Past all of them, to the one person who hadn’t said a word since he’d entered the room. To Jenny.

  “Every game has a prize,” he said.

  Jenny met the impossibly blue eyes and knew she’d been right.

  They stood for a moment, looking at each other.

  Julian’s smile deepened. Tom looked back and forth between them. Understanding slowly dawned on his face.

  “No . . .” he whispered.

  “Every game has a prize,” the boy repeated. “Winner take all.”

  “No!” Tom said and launched himself across the room.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tom lunged at the boy in black—and drew up short. His eyes were fixed on something at his feet. Jenny couldn’t understand it—it was as if he saw something terrifying there on the carpet. He turned to get away from it and stopped. It was behind him, too. Slowly he backed up against the wall.

  Jenny was staring at him in dismay. It was like watching one of the mimes out at Venice Beach. A very good mime—Jenny could tell that the things Tom was facing were small, that they were trying to climb up his legs, and that he was terribly afraid of them. But there was nothing on the carpet.

  “Tom,” she said in a thin voice and took a step.

  “Don’t come near me! They’ll get you, too!”

  It was awful. Tom, who was never afraid of anything, was cornered by empty air. His lips were drawn back from his teeth, his chest was heaving.

  “What is it?” Summer whimpered.

  The others were all staring in silence. Jenny whirled on the boy in black, who was leaning against the parlor wall and watching in amusement.

  “What are you doing to him?”

  “In the Game you have to face your nightmares. This is just a free sample of Tom’s. No reason for the rest of you to be in on it.”

  Jenny faced Tom, drawing a deep breath. She took a step toward him.

  “Stay back!” Tom said, sharp and frightened.

  “Doesn’t look like he’s conquered it yet,” Julian remarked.

  Jenny stepped right into the midst of what Tom was staring at. She felt nothing but air around her bare ankles. She saw nothing. But Tom did—he yanked her to him, to the wall, falling down with her to his knees. He kicked out.

  “Tom, don’t! There’s nothing there! Tom, look at me!”

  His green-flecked eyes were wild. “Keep away from her. Keep back!” He was scuffing with his outstretched foot at the empty floor beside Jenny, trying to push something away. His mouth was quivering with disgust.

  “Tom,” she sobbed, shaking him. He didn’t even glance at her. She buried her face in his shoulder, holding him with all her strength. Trying to will him sane again.

  And then—her arms collapsed in on themselves. It was like one of those magician’s tricks where the beautiful girl is hidden beneath a sheet—and then the sheet caves in and falls to the floor. Tom was there—Tom wasn’t there. Like that. Jenny’s embracing arms were empty.

  She screamed.

  And looked helplessly, wildly down at her hands, at her lap. At the floor. Tom couldn’t be gone.

  He was.

  She looked behind her and saw that the others were, too.

  Jenny’s eyes darted to the dim hallway. It was empty. The curtains over the window were flat and still. But Dee was gone, and Audrey was gone, and Zach and Michael and Summer were all gone from the parlor. All five of them, without a sound. The way things vanish in dreams.

  Please let it be a dream, Jenny thought. I’ve had enough, now. Please, I’m sorry; let it be a dream.

  She was clutching the carpet so tensely that her fingernails were bending back. It hurt, and the pain didn’t wake her up. Nothing changed. Her friends were still gone.

  The boy in black was still there.

  “Where did they go? What did you do with them?” she said. She was so dazed that it came out as a sort of insane calm.

  Julian smiled whimsically. “They’re upstairs, scattered around the house, waiting to face their nightmares. Waiting for you. You’ll find them as you go through the Game.”

  “As I go?” Jenny sa
id stupidly. “Look, you don’t understand. I don’t know what’s—”

  “You’re the main player here, you know,” he interrupted, gently chiding. “The door back to your world is at the top of the house, and it’s open. If you can get to it, you can go. Bring your friends and they can leave, too.”

  Jenny’s mind was still stuck on one thing. “Where’s Tom? I want—”

  “Your—Tom—is at the top.” He pronounced the name as if it were something not mentioned in polite society. “I’ll be giving him my special attention. You’ll see him when you get there—if you get there.”

  “Look, please. I don’t want to play any game.” Jenny was still speaking as if this was all a mistake that would be cleared up somehow, as long as she stayed rational. As long as she avoided his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but—”

  He interrupted again. “And if you don’t get there, then I win. And you stay here, with me.”

  “What do you mean—with you?” Jenny said sharply, jerked out of her courtesy.

  He smiled. “I mean that you stay in this place, in my world. With me—as mine.”

  Jenny stared at him—and then she was on her feet, her composure shattering. “You’re out of your mind!” she said. She would have lunged at him, herself, if she’d ever had any practice at violence.

  “Careful, Jenny.”

  She stopped, frightened by what she sensed in him. Looking into his eyes, she saw something so alien, so terrifying, that she couldn’t move. It was then, at last, that she believed what was happening. Full realization of what this boy had done, of everything that had happened tonight, crashed in on her. The young man standing before her, looking almost human, could do magic.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  All her violence had drained away, replaced by a fear older and deeper than anything she’d ever experienced. An old, old recognition. Something inside her knew him from a time when girls took skin bags to the river to get water, a time when panthers walked in the darkness outside mud huts. From a time before electric lights, before candles, when darkness was fended off with stone lamps. When darkness was the greatest danger of all.

  Jenny looked at the boy standing beside her with his hair shining like moonlight. If Darkness had taken on a face and a voice, if the powers of night had gathered themselves together and formed themselves into a human being, they would have made something like this.

  “Who are you?” whispered Jenny.

  “Don’t you know yet?”

  Jenny shook her head.

  “Never mind. You will, before the Game is over.”

  Jenny tried to regain her calm. “Look—let’s just . . . You were at the game store.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “So this was all—set up? But why me ? Why are you doing this to me ?” Jenny could feel hysteria tugging at her again.

  Then he said it. He was looking at her with eyes like the sky on a November morning, one corner of his mouth turned up. He spoke gravely and a little formally.

  “Because,” he said, “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Jenny stared at him.

  “Surprised? You shouldn’t be. I first saw you a long time ago—you were such a pretty little girl. As if there was sunshine all around you. Do you know the story of Hades?”

  “What?” She didn’t like this mercurial jumping from subject to subject.

  “Hades,” he said encouragingly, like someone helping her cram for a final. “Greek god of the Underworld. Ruler there. He lived in the world of shadows—and he was lonely. And then one day he looked up to the earth’s surface and saw Persephone. Picking wildflowers, I think. Laughing. He fell in love with her on the spot. He wanted to make her his queen, but he knew perfectly well she wouldn’t go with him willingly. So . . .”

  “So?” Jenny got out.

  “So he hitched his black horses to his chariot. And the earth split open in front of Persephone’s feet. And her wildflowers fell to the ground.”

  “That’s a story,” Jenny said, trying to keep her voice steady. “A myth. There’s no such person as Hades.”

  “Are you sure?” After a moment Julian went on: “Anyway, you’re luckier than Persephone, Jenny. You have a chance to get away. I could just take you, but I’m giving you a chance.” He looked at Jenny with eyes like liquid sapphires, wild exotic eyes. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t look away.

  “Who are you?” she whispered again.

  “Who do you want me to be? I love you, Jenny—I came from the World of Shadows to get you. I’ll be anything you like, give you anything you want. Do you like jewels? Emeralds to match your eyes? Diamonds?” He reached outspread fingers toward her throat, not quite touching.

  “What about clothes? A different outfit for every hour of the day, in colors you’ve never imagined. Pets? Have a marmoset, or a white tiger. Far-off places? You can lie in the sun at Cabo San Lucas or Côte d’Azur. Anything, Jenny. Just imagine.”

  Jenny covered her face with her hands. “You’re crazy.”

  “I can make your wildest dreams come true. Literally. Ask me for something, something you thought you could never have. Quick; I may not make the offer again.”

  Jenny was almost sobbing. His voice, soft and insistent, made her feel as if she were falling. She had a terrifying desire to collapse in his arms.

  “Now, Jenny, while we’re still friends. Later, things won’t be so pleasant. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if it’s necessary. Save yourself a lot of pain and bother and let me make you happy now. Give in, yield to me. It’s going to happen eventually, anyway.”

  The sensation of falling vanished. Jenny’s head snapped up. “Oh, really?”

  “I never lose.”

  Something was waking up in Jenny. Usually she got angry quickly and got over it as quickly, like a summer cloudburst. Now she felt the slow kindling of something different, a deliberate, steady fury that would burn a long time.

  “Careful, Jenny,” Julian said again softly.

  “I will never give in to you,” Jenny told him, equally soft. “I’ll die first.”

  “It won’t come to that, I hope. But other things might happen—once you start playing the Game, I can’t change the rules. Your friends might suffer.”

  “What? How?”

  He shook his head at her. “Jenny, Jenny. Don’t you understand anything that’s going on? They’re all playing the Game. They agreed to take the risks. Now they’ll have to take the consequences.” He turned.

  “No—wait!”

  “It’s too late, Jenny. I gave you a chance; you refused it. From now on we’ll be playing the Game.”

  “But—”

  “You can start with this riddle.” Turning back, head tilted slightly, he recited:

  “I am just two and two. I am hot. I am cold.

  I’m the parent of numbers that cannot be told.

  I’m a gift beyond measure, a matter of course,

  And I’m yielded with pleasure—when taken by force.”

  Jenny shook her head. “That tells who you are?”

  He laughed. “No, that tells what I want from you. Give me the answer, and I’ll let one of your friends go.

  Jenny pushed the riddle to the back of her mind. It didn’t make any sense, and while Julian was in the room, it was impossible to concentrate on anything else but him.

  In all this time he hadn’t lost his whimsical good cheer, his charm. He was obviously loving this game, having a wonderful time.

  “That’s all,” he said. “Let the Game begin. By the way, if you get hurt in these nightmares, you get hurt for real. If you die, you die. And I can tell you right off that one of you probably won’t make it.”

  Jenny’s head jerked up. “Who?”

  “That would be telling. Let’s just say that one of you probably doesn’t have the strength to get through. Oh, and did I mention the time limit? The door in the turret—the door back to your own world—is going to close a
t dawn. Which tomorrow is at exactly six-eleven. If you can’t get to it by then, you’re stuck here—so don’t waste your time. Here’s something to remind you.”

  Far away but clear, an unseen clock chimed. Jenny turned toward the sound, counting unconsciously as it struck. Ten.

  When she turned back, Julian was gone.

  Jenny held herself motionless. There was no sound. The fringe on the green velvet lamp rippled slightly; otherwise the room was still.

  For an instant just being alone was enough to panic her. She was by herself in a house that didn’t exist.

  No, don’t freak. Think. You can look around now. Maybe there’s a way out of here.

  She went to the window, pulled the heavy peacock-blue curtain aside. Then she froze.

  At first she simply stared, breath catching in her throat, feeling her eyes go wide like a deer’s. Then she whipped the curtain back in place, jerking it past the closing point, pressing it against the window with her hands. She could hardly make herself let go of the velvety material, but she did, and then she backed away quickly. She didn’t want to see outside again.

  A landscape of elemental terror. Like something out of the Ice Age—as painted by a mad impressionist. A blizzard with huge ungainly shapes lumbering through it. Blue and green flashes like lightning giving glimpses of deformed creatures crawling over icy ground. Twisted pinnacles of rock corkscrewing up toward a blank white sky.

  She wouldn’t survive a minute out there.

  When the devil goes ice-skating, Jenny thought. So what if Hell’s already frozen?

  Oh, how funny. Michael would appreciate that. She felt tears sting her nose, her eyes. She stood hunched and miserable, hugging her own elbows in the center of the empty room. She had never felt so alone—or so frightened.

  She missed her friends desperately. Dee’s courage, Michael’s humor, Audrey’s practicality. Even Summer would give Jenny someone to protect, and as for Zach—she wanted to find out what was wrong with him. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him act this way.