The Hunting Tree

by Ike Hamill

  Mike ducked away from the car and brought his arms up to protect his head. The detector pulled free from his hand when it reached the end of its cord. Mike didn’t notice as it tumbled to the ground. He was too busy trying to cover up from the flying debris.

  Bill’s voice rescued him from his fugue—“Mike! Get in!”

  “What?” he opened his eyes and looked around. From the interior lights of the car and small amount of ambient light from the night sky, Mike surveyed the damage. The back window of Bill’s car had shattered, peppering Mike with glass. Bill’s car now featured a deep dent in the roof. Mike gathered the abused device and piled back into the car.

  “What happened?” he asked Bill.

  “The thing jumped over the road and landed on my roof,” Bill explained. When Mike closed his door, Bill put the car in gear and whipped it into a u-turn while Mike struggled to buckle his seat belt.

  “I was so focused on the readout that I didn’t even see it,” said Mike. “What did it look like?”

  “Fucking huge,” said Bill. “Where do I go?”

  “Next left,” Mike gathered back up his navigation aids. “Device still works, but it’s a little dinged up.”

  “As long as it works,” said Bill.

  “Do you think it knew we were chasing it?” asked Mike.

  “I don’t know,” said Bill. “But it could have stopped to kill us easily enough. I suggest we keep a little distance until we form a better plan.”

  “It’s moving in a straight line,” said Mike. “We should be able to figure out where it’s going, and get there first.”

  “Then what?” asked Bill.

  “We set a trap,” said Mike.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Davey

  DAVEY SAT ALONE on a sticky leather couch. The man behind the desk leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows, and the officer who had driven Davey to the station sat on a chair by the door.

  “Let’s just start with your name, son. Can you at least tell us that?” asked the man behind the desk. He pulled at his tie and rolled up his white sleeves as he pushed back from his desk.

  “John,” said Davey.

  The officer and the man behind the desk exchanged a glance, and then the officer pulled his chair closer to Davey.

  “I didn’t really introduce myself before,” he said. “My name is Sam Arenaz.” Sam held his hand out to Davey the same way he had when Davey had been cowering in the gully next to the road. Davey glanced at his hand before shaking it.

  “Call me Sam,” he said.

  “I can’t tell you my real name, Sam,” said Davey. “There’s a monster after me, and if you send me home, he might hurt my family.”

  “You’re very brave, son,” said Sam. “But we found that man dead. He’s not going to hurt you or your family.”

  “Not him,” said Davey. “There’s a much worse thing coming.”

  Sam looked up at his commander, who rose and came around the desk to sit on the edge of the couch next to Davey.

  “Call me Jim,” he said to Davey’s upturned eyes. “We’re the police,” he continued. “We stop the bad guys, and protect people like you and your family. We can protect you, but we can’t help your family until we find out who they are.”

  “Cap’n?” A young man poked his head through the door.

  “Yeah?” said Jim.

  “Phone for you.” He waggled his spread thumb and pinky next to his face.

  “Thanks,” said Jim. He rose from the couch and followed the young man through the door, leaving Davey alone with Sam.

  “Were you running away from home?” asked Sam.

  Davey nodded and noticed the rough stubble on the officer’s chin.

  “Can you tell me about what’s scaring you?” asked Sam.

  Davey shook his head and looked at the ground. “You won’t believe me,” he said.

  “Why would you say that?” asked Sam. “Can I tell you a secret?” Davey looked into Sam’s earnest eyes.

  “I can tell when people are lying,” Sam revealed. “It’s something they teach us at the academy. I know you weren’t lying when you said there was a monster chasing you. I can tell.”

  “Really?” asked Davey.

  “Yeah,” said Sam. “So you can tell me anything. I’ll know you’re telling the truth.”

  “Can I ask you something?” asked Davey.

  “Anything,” said Sam.

  “Did you find the nurse yet?” asked Davey.

  “I’m sorry?” asked Sam.

  “The nurse and her sister. They lived west of here,” said Davey. “He killed them last night, after he killed Charlotte and her family. I saw it in my dream, but I know it was real.”

  Sam’s eyes had grown wide, despite his best efforts to maintain a neutral expression. His throat clicked when he opened his mouth to ask his next question—“Who killed them? Who killed those people?”

  Sam jumped halfway out of his chair when Jim came back into the office.

  “That was your mom, Davey,” said Jim as he strode passed his stunned officer and reclaimed his position next to Davey on the sticky couch. “She’ll be here in twenty minutes.” Jim looked at Sam and saw his shock. “What’s going on? What were you guys talking about?”

  “He, um, Davey was just telling me about how the man who is hunting him killed several people last night,” said Sam.

  Jim did a much better job at handling this new information. He turned to Davey and fixed a look of deep sympathy on his face. “Tell us what happened, son. Were you there? Did you witness something last night?”

  “No,” said Davey, shaking his head.

  “How did you know about the murders?” asked Jim.

  “A girl at camp told me about Charlotte and her family,” said Davey. “I met her one time. Can I get something to drink?”

  Sam jumped up and disappeared out the door to fulfill the request.

  “That must have made you really sad,” said Jim. “Is that why you ran away?”

  Before Davey had a chance to answer, Sam had appeared with a paper cup filled with cold water.

  “No,” said Davey. “I mean, sorta. I was upset about Charlotte, but I ran away so I wouldn’t lead the monster back to my family. I don’t want them to get killed too.”

  “Davey,” interrupted Sam. “Tell Jim about what you were telling me when he was out of the room. About the nurse?”

  “I was just wondering if you found them yet,” said Davey. “I don’t know how to tell you exactly where they live, but I bet the hospital would be able to tell you where.”

  “Which hospital?” asked Jim.

  “The one next to the river,” said Davey. “Where they took me that time I fell down and couldn’t breathe.”

  “And what happened to the nurse?” asked Jim.

  “I don’t know exactly,” said Davey, “but the monster got her. It got her and her sister after it got Charlotte.”

  “And this is the same monster that had you in the trailer? Did he tell you about the nurse?” asked Jim.

  “No,” said Davey, frustrated. “I told you, he wasn’t anything. Horace didn’t kill anybody, he wanted to…” Davey found it hard to speak as he remembered the dying man’s hands on his body.

  “Davey,” Jim said sharply, bringing him back from the memory, “tell us about the nurse.”

  “She took care of me when I was at the hospital. That’s why the monster wanted to get her. I didn’t really see anything. I know he must have killed her though. He kills everyone he goes after,” said Davey.

  “Start at the beginning, and tell us what you know,” said Jim.

  Davey nodded and finished his cup of water. “I saw him go to Charlotte’s house first. He jumped from the tree down to the driveway so he wouldn’t leave any footprints. He’s trying to fool you. Then he took a piece from underneath the car. I couldn’t see what it was, but it must have been metal or something, because he straightened it out and went over to the house.”<
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  “What did the car look like?” asked Jim. “What kind?”

  “I don’t know cars,” said Davey. “It was dark, maybe blue?”

  “Go ahead,” prompted Jim. “So he went over to the house?”

  “Yeah,” said Davey. “He went over right next to one of the windows and then he jammed the metal thing into the wall. He had made the metal thing long and straight, like a coat hanger, so he could poke it through the wall.”

  “What did he look like?” asked Jim. The captain reached over to his desk and grabbed a small notepad to jot down the details of Davey’s story.

  “I can’t really see him,” said Davey, “but he’s really big.”

  “Why was he jamming the coat hanger through the wall?” asked Jim.

  “It wasn’t really a coat hanger,” corrected Davey. “It was from the car. He was trying to break the alarm. It must have worked because when he pushed through the door next to the garage, nothing went off.”

  “How did he get through the door?” asked Jim. “Wasn’t it locked?”

  “They had a flag next to the door—he used that. He knows about fingerprints and stuff. Then he just turned really hard until it broke.”

  Jim nodded and waited for Davey to continue.

  “He went to the parents’ room first. I didn’t watch what he did to them, but I know he took stuff. I think he wanted you to think that he was there to take things instead of killing people. Then he went upstairs and killed Charlotte. I think he took her body somewhere, but I couldn’t see anything once that happened.”

  “Why is that?” asked Jim.

  “Her eyes were closed,” said Davey. “And plus she was dead,” he added. “But it did feel like she was moving. Sometimes I can’t see so well…” Davey trailed off.

  As Davey slowed down, Jim redirected his attention in an attempt to keep the momentum going. “And then he went for the nurse?”

  “Yeah,” Davey responded without looking up.

  “How did he get to the nurse’s house?”

  “He runs,” said Davey. “He runs everywhere—through the woods. That’s why he’s been going so slow lately. He has trouble finding ways to get where he needs to go.”

  “What did you see?” asked Jim.

  “I didn’t get a chance to see very much at all,” admitted Davey. “The nurse knew he was coming. She could feel him, so she got her sister and was going to try to get away. That’s all I know.”

  “Why? Why is that all you know?” asked Jim.

  “My mom woke me up,” said Davey. “She said I was making noise like I was having a bad dream.”

  Jim set his pencil down and looked over to Sam. His next question was interrupted before he got a chance to ask it.

  “Ms. Hunter is here,” the same young man poked his head in the door. “I asked her to wait, but she said no. She’s kicking up dust pretty good.”

  “Send her in,” said Jim. He rose from his spot on the couch next to Davey and took his chair behind his desk. “Get Davey some more water, would you?” he pointed to Sam.

  Melanie burst through the doorway and spotted her son on the couch. She rushed over and gathered him into a big hug, pressing her face against the top of his head. “Baby,” she said to him, “you scared me.” She pulled him close again.

  “Ms. Hunter,” began Jim, “I’m Jim Wyckell. We were just talking to Davey about last night.”

  “Last night?” said Melanie. “Wait, I’m confused. Davey was at home last night. He didn’t run away until this afternoon.”

  “Your son has details about two active cases from last night. Do you know where he might have come across this information?” asked Jim.

  “I’m sorry officer, but Davey was sound asleep last night. I even checked on him in the middle of the night, and I can assure you he has no details about active cases. Perhaps you’re the victim of the over-active imagination of an intelligent little boy who has been through a lot today?”

  “I wish that were so,” said Jim. “But he just told us information about a case that we haven’t even announced to the press yet.”

  Melanie cut him off—“You mean about that poor woman and her sister?”

  Jim raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, well maybe you haven’t announced any information, but that doesn’t stop people from talking. I heard about it three times on the radio on my way over here. Maybe when you take someone to the morgue in the same hospital building where they work, someone is going to recognize them. Not to mention, I picked up several details you may not have released on my way through your office out there.” She waved towards Jim’s door. “My son can read, do you think he might have read something on one of those big whiteboards out there?”

  “Even so,” said Jim. “There was another death last night, and Davey described several key pieces of information. If you could just have a seat, maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”

  “Davey?” Melanie turned to her son. “Did you tell them about another person hurt last night?”

  Davey nodded.

  “Did you hear about this thing from someone at camp?”

  “Yes,” said Davey. “Shane’s sister heard it from Brittney.”

  “Where did Brittney hear about it?” Melanie asked.

  “Her dad’s a cop,” said Davey.

  “There you go, officer,” Melanie said to Jim. “Case solved. Now I’m going to take my boy home.”

  “Ma’am, I’d really like to get this straightened out a little more before you leave. Please just sit down for a second and we’ll make it…”

  Melanie cut him off again—“I’m sorry, but we can’t. I’ve got my teenage daughter in the car, and a full day tomorrow. Don’t you think Davey has been through enough already today? Perhaps if you didn’t keep putting registered sex offenders back on the streets, parents wouldn’t have as much to worry about.”

  Jim stood, taking offense to the implication and ready to assert his authority. “I’m afraid I really must insist.”

  “That’s great,” Melanie pulled Davey to her and took a step towards the door, “but unless you plan to arrest me and my son, we’re going. And in case you’re wondering, there are roughly a dozen newspeople out front talking about all the murders. I’m sure they’d love a bulletin about a woman and her pre-teen son being held for questioning about crimes that took place an hour away while they were at home asleep.” As she spoke, Melanie pulled Davey closer to the door.

  Sam stood behind her, blocking her way and holding a paper cup with a refill for Davey.

  “No?” asked Melanie. “Okay then, thanks for everything.”

  She and Davey pushed past Sam and made their way through the office.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Mike

  “IT STILL DOESN’T WORK,” said Mike.

  Bill guided the car through the gentle turns at speeds just slightly greater than his comfort level. He had been lucky so far. He kept expecting to come around the next turn and find a woman walking out to her mailbox, or a stunned deer crossing the road. Bill was beginning to get irritated at Mike’s inability to operate a paper map.

  “Tell me what you’re doing,” ordered Bill.

  Mike flipped back several pages and described his methodology—“I plotted the thing’s course in terms of how many boxes down it should move for every page it crosses. It’s only based on the first few miles of travel, but I think it should be enough.”

  “So what’s the problem?” asked Bill.

  “When I extrapolate over to the page with the kid’s house, the course is off by almost half a page,” explained Mike.

  “How far is that?”

  “About fifteen miles,” said Mike.

  “That seems significant,” Bill said, now echoing Mike’s concern. “Are you sure you didn’t mess up when you transferred the line from page to page?”

  “I checked it three times,” said Mike. “Hey, could this be a great circle problem?”

  “Your scale is
too small,” said Bill. “Maybe it’s not headed where we think?”

  “Of course,” said Mike. “That’s got to be it. Maybe it has a stop to make first.” He flipped back through the pages, tracing their current trajectory versus the creature’s predicted path. “Wait a sec,” he paused. “Let me borrow your phone.”

  While Bill handed over his cell, Mike pulled out his wallet and retrieved the scrawled number from the back of a business card.

  “Who are you calling?” asked Bill.

  Mike held up a single index finger in the glow of the map light. Bill drove on, focusing on the road with his eyes, and the conversation with his ears.

  “Pick up, pick up,” Mike whisper-chanted to the phone.

  “Hello?” Ken answered.

  “Hey Ken, it’s me, Mike.”

  “Jesus, Mike, you don’t answer your phone anymore?” asked Ken.

  Bill glanced at his travel-companion, only hearing Mike’s side of the conversation. Mike covered the phone and whispered to Bill—“It’s the kid’s doctor.”

  “Mike?” asked Ken.

  “Yeah, sorry Ken. I’ve been away from the house. Are you pissed that I contacted Ms. Hunter?” asked Mike.

  “You’re damn right I am,” said Ken. “That was way out of line. But I was calling about something else. I wanted to tell you what I found in Davey’s blood.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” said Ken. “You might be on to something with that crazy theory. I saw some stuff in the blood that I can’t explain. His cells have been taken over by something. They attack anything foreign, like it was an infection, but they don’t really kill them. Crazy. I sent a bunch over to the CDC. They’re going to check it out first thing and advise on what to do.”

  “What about the kid?” asked Mike. “Where’s he now?”

  “Not sure,” said Ken. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with the mother all afternoon. I left some messages, but I didn’t want to scare her.”

  “It might be too late for that,” said Mike.