by Lauren Algeo
‘I know what you and Jen have been up to,’ Rawlings growled.
He was stood behind a dark blue car. His hand was tucked inside his jacket, resting on the blade, and he was swaying from foot to foot.
The golfer was frozen beside the car door. He was half-facing them and they got their first good look at him. He was in his late forties, with dark hair that was greying at the temples. He was good looking, in a distinguished way, and his fancy sports car and expensive golf clothes screamed money.
The man looked bewildered. He was staring, puzzled, trying to place Rawlings and work out what was going on.
‘You’re Tim, right? Jennifer’s husband?’ he said in his smoothest voice, but there was a raw edge to it – as if he could sense the danger that poured from Rawlings. He had the nervous glint in his eyes that Brewer was used to.
Georgie clutched onto his arm, her nails digging in through his jumper. He surveyed the car park. It was quiet, and there weren’t many cars there. Being the middle of a work afternoon, people would either come early or later, or be in the middle of a round by now.
‘You know exactly who I am.’ Rawlings took one menacing step towards the car, his foot crunching noisily on the gravel in the stillness. ‘You’ve both been laughing at me.’
The golfer lifted his hands up in protest. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? Shall I go and get Jennifer?’
‘What, she isn’t with you already?’ The laugh that bubbled out of Rawlings’ throat sent a shiver crawling down Georgie’s spine – he sounded insane.
The golfer hesitated. He was looking more and more uneasy. ‘I’ll get her and you two can talk.’ He had only gotten two paces from the car before Rawlings caught him.
‘Don’t fucking go near her!’ he screamed.
Rawlings had the blade in his hand now and locked his arm around the golfer’s neck, pressing the sharp point into the soft, vulnerable skin. Georgie fought back a cry, however she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Brewer was watching silently.
‘We’ll see who she really wants,’ Rawlings hissed.
The golfer had quit struggling as soon as he felt the blade.
‘What do you want?’ he choked out.
‘Revenge,’ came the cold reply.
Rawlings got the golfer in a tighter grip then shouted towards the clubhouse.
‘Jenny! Oh Jennifer!’ His voice no longer sounded human.
He yelled a few more times, until she appeared from the entrance with one of her colleagues in tow. Jennifer took several seconds to absorb the scene in front of her before she bolted down the steps to the car park. The confusion clear on her face as she rapidly tried to work out why her husband was holding a knife to the throat of one of the club members.
‘Tim!’ she called as she ran. ‘What are you doing!’
Rawlings staggered back a couple of paces, dragging the golfer with him. ‘Stop right there, Jen.’
She skidded to a halt ten feet away. Her confusion gave way to fear at the crazy glint in her husband’s eyes. They looked almost black in the afternoon light.
‘What’s going on? Tim, please let him go,’ she pleaded. ‘Frank, are you ok?’
The mystery golfer was called Frank then.
‘Concerned for him are we?’ Rawlings jeered. ‘You weren’t so concerned about me when you were fucking him behind my back!’
Jennifer’s mouth opened and closed in surprise. ‘What are you talking about?’ The hurt in her voice was clear when she struggled out the words. ‘Tim, I would never…’
Brewer could sense Georgie tensing beside him. She was fighting every urge she had to go over and try to save them. Jennifer’s colleague was still standing by the entrance. She was a young, blond woman, dressed in the same smart shirt and trousers as Jennifer. She looked torn between running inside to call for help or running down the stairs to try and aid Frank.
The hiker was aware of everything.
‘Don’t you move either,’ Rawlings called to the nervous colleague. ‘Or who knows what might happen to Frank here.’
She nodded and stayed put. Brewer gazed around. The hiker would be able to watch the scene playing out from wherever he was. There were some bushes alongside the trees, and a wall dividing the car park in to member or employee areas. He couldn’t see any signs of movement in his field of vision. Where was he? There were several windows in the clubhouse that looked out over the car park. He could be inside peering down at them through one of those. Brewer was sure his focus was on Rawlings though, and that he hadn’t seen him or Georgie.
‘Tim, what has gotten in to you?’ Jennifer suddenly snapped. ‘Put the knife down and let’s talk about this. You’re scaring me!’
It was meant to appeal to her husband, from his frightened wife, but Rawlings was too far gone.
‘I’ll put the knife down when you admit to me how many times you’ve had this guy’s cock inside you!’ he snarled with venom.
Jennifer recoiled backwards in horror. Brewer saw her legs buckle slightly and her face crumple at the vile accusation.
‘Please!’ she cried. The first tears spilled down her cheeks, although they had no affect on Rawlings.
‘Why don’t you tell me what happened?’ he whispered in Frank’s ear. ‘Tell me how much you enjoyed that whore’s body.’
A whimper escaped Frank’s throat as the edge of the blade bit deeper into his exposed skin.
‘This is really what you chose over me?’ Rawlings spat at his wife. ‘I’ll make you both sorry!’
He tensed the arm wielding the knife and what happened next played out in slow motion to Georgie. There was a moment of confusion as Rawlings tried to fight the hiker. They saw him shake his head roughly several times but his hand continued to draw the blade along Frank’s throat. A guttural cry escaped from Frank as the blood began to flow, and he bucked against Rawlings.
‘No! Tim!’ Jennifer screamed as she ran towards them in a last desperate bid to stop her husband from killing an innocent man.
The colleague let out a shrill shriek and her hands flew to her mouth, yet she seemed rooted to the spot. Frank’s body twitched down to the ground, his blood already staining the gravel around him a deep red colour. Rawlings turned his attention to Jennifer.
Something snapped in Georgie. She broke cover and bolted for the couple.
‘Georgie, don’t!’
She felt Brewer make a grab for her but his hand glanced harmlessly off her shoulder. She ran straight for Rawlings.
He was trying to get a grip on Jennifer, while she lashed back at him. They struggled violently and the knife slashed dangerously close to her body. Jennifer managed to rake her fingernails down his cheek and draw blood, although Rawlings barely felt it.
‘Leave her alone!’ Georgie screamed from lungs that felt like they would burst.
They both looked towards the newcomer. The hiker observed her from wherever he was watching. She felt his intrusive fingers trying to pry their way into her mind. Good, she thought. While his attention was on her, she could get Jennifer away.
The hiker tried harder to get in and Georgie found she couldn’t keep the mental door shut properly. She was only five feet away when Rawlings suddenly backed off.
The hiker had released his grip on him in his effort to get to Georgie. Rawlings knew exactly what he’d just done, and what the hiker was trying to make him do to his wife. His eyes were clear blue again, and they were filled with horror. He hurled the knife far across the car park with a grunt of effort. Jennifer was panting and sobbing as she locked eyes with her husband.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered to her ‘I have to escape it.’
He took off sprinting along the driveway towards the exit.
Georgie reached Jennifer and the woman collapsed into her small body. They both stumbled to the ground in a heap. The colleague seemed spurred into action by the sight of Rawlings fleeing in the distance.
“I’ll call the police!’ she shouted as she dashed i
nside. ‘And an ambulance!’
Georgie looked towards Frank. His glassy eyes stared back, wide and unblinking. It was too late for the ambulance.
There was a chuckle inside her head. The hiker was fully in now, ransacking through her memories. An image of the tube station flashed to the front of her mind, of her standing at the edge of the platform with the other hiker goading her to jump.
‘Georgie! Block it out!’ Brewer yelled as he ran to her. ‘Now!’
She hadn’t seen him scared before, yet there was no mistaking that was the expression on his face now. His eyes were fixed on her and his mouth had disappeared in a thin, tight line. She suddenly felt terrified as the adrenaline she’d been reacting from tapered off. She couldn’t get the hiker out.
A second later, she was hauled to her feet and Brewer dragged her in the direction of the exit. There was a moment of relief as the hiker left her to try and find out Brewer’s story.
‘What about Jennifer?’ Georgie asked, glancing back at the hysterical woman lying next to Frank’s bloody body in the gravel.
‘You’ve done enough,’ Brewer replied through gritted teeth.
The hiker quickly found Brewer’s mind was impenetrable – he’d had years of practice at keeping them out. Georgie, on the other hand, was an easier target.
‘I’m back,’ she heard him whisper tauntingly to her, low and sinister in the back of her head. She tried desperately to force him out.
‘Is he in?’ Brewer asked sharply, taking in the grim concentration on her face.
He picked up the pace. They were almost out of sight of the clubhouse. He suspected the hiker had been upstairs in the building, lording over them from his elevated position. If they could get far enough away before he followed them, and Georgie could somehow block him out, they would be safe.
‘You’re strong enough, you know that,’ he told her. ‘Shut him out!’
Please shut him out, he thought to himself, fighting the rising panic. Don’t give us away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining physically punching the hiker away. She thought of the scene she had just witnessed. The murder. She drew on the anger and fear she felt and turned it against the hiker, unleashing her full rage.
It was working; the hiker was retreating. His power was weakening the further away they got. Brewer didn’t let her stop until they had caught a train at the station and it was speeding back to London.
She went straight to the train toilet and was violently sick, from physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. She leant, shaking, against the cool wall of the toilet, taking shallow breaths. Her hands and head were clammy with sweat. She ran the cold tap and splashed her face with the soothing water then she swilled some around her dry mouth. Feeling a little more human, she went to rejoin Brewer in the carriage.
He was propped by the window of a four-seat area, staring vacantly out at the scenery rushing by.
‘Has he completely gone?’ he asked, without looking at her, as she slumped into the seat opposite.
‘Yes,’ she replied softly. He was long gone.
Brewer didn’t talk to her again during the journey back. It was ok at first because she wasn’t up to talking yet. She spent the train ride with her head back against the rest and her eyes closed, trying to sort out her jumbled memories of what had just happened. Frank’s lifeless eyes kept popping up in her mind.
After an hour of silence, she started to feel uneasy. Brewer made them go a long, random way back to the flat. Taking several different trains, tubes, and buses, but Georgie didn’t question him. He would have a reason for it.
When they were finally inside, he double locked the door behind them and drew all the curtains in the flat. Georgie wanted to curl up in bed and drift in to an empty sleep, however she had a feeling that wasn’t going to be happening.
‘Sit,’ Brewer instructed.
She sat in her usual position on the sofa. He got out a new bottle of Jack Daniels and put it on the table with two glasses. He sat down opposite her and poured two large measures. She was reminded of the first night she had come to the flat and how they had talked through their pasts. She felt a niggle of fear. She had messed up back there, was he going to tell her she couldn’t hunt with him anymore? She didn’t want that. What would she do with her life then? She couldn’t cope out there on her own with them; she wasn’t strong enough yet.
Georgie took a swallow of the liquid to quiet her mind. She looked Brewer in the eyes for the first time since she’d sat down. He was gazing steadily back at her.
‘We know he didn’t follow us here,’ he said evenly. ‘But I need to know exactly how much he saw.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
Her mouth was dry and she took another sip of her drink. Brewer hadn’t touched his yet.
‘In your memories,’ he said. ‘How much did the hiker see?’
‘I don’t…’ She paused and thought about it.
The image that had flashed to the front of her mind of her standing on the platform, the hiker’s cruel laughing. The realisation suddenly hit her.
‘He didn’t see here!’ she exclaimed. ‘He was looking through my past, at what I used to be. He found me on the station platform when I was under the influence of the other hiker but that was as recent as it got.’
‘You’re sure about that?’ he pushed.
‘Yes, the last memory that flashed up was you pulling me back from the platform edge.’
Brewer breathed out and took the first swig of his drink. Georgie was right, that had been fear on his face earlier. He’d always been able to keep his current life from the hikers, and now relying on someone else to do it too was terrifying.
‘That was why I didn’t want you getting too close to them yet,’ he said. ‘We need to make sure you are strong enough to stop them finding out about us. What we do. I’ve been guarding this place for a long time and you nearly jeopardised it all today.’
Georgie looked at her glass with a wave of guilt. She felt as though Brewer was her father, telling her how disappointed he was in her. She had let him down.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I just… when I saw him turning on his wife, I couldn’t stop myself.’
‘I understand,’ he replied. ‘The first time I tried to help a girl on a roof, I nearly ended up jumping off it with her.’
He paused for a moment.
‘It’s not that I don’t care about these people, Georgie. I’m not some cold, unfeeling monster. You just have to understand that it’s not possible to help everyone. I feel sorry for the victims, I really do, but you have to harden yourself to them.’ He took another drink. ‘We need to look at the bigger picture: getting rid of hikers for good. And as horrible as it is, you have to see the things they do to really understand what they’re like.’
Georgie nodded, on the verge of tears. Today had been too much for her and she needed to shut it out for a while.
‘Will I get to come out with you again next time?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Brewer replied. ‘We won’t be going out again just yet though.’
Georgie was too tired to talk anymore and she took herself off to bed. Brewer listened to her run the bathroom tap for a while then shut herself in his room.
Finally, he released all the tension he’d been holding in since they had gotten away from the golf club. He paced around the room, muttering to himself to vent his frustration. He double-checked the doors and windows, and peered out at the dark night. He knew it was stupid, as if a hiker would bother to break in, but it made him feel better. Georgie could sense them whereas he only had his hearing to rely on. The world was quiet, however that didn’t mean there wasn’t one out there somewhere.
He’d always been so careful, locking away the location of the flat in the deepest part of his mind. Had the hiker seen it in Georgie’s? She’d said no, only he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure he hadn’t glimpsed something – the road name, the outside of the flat, the map on
the wall. He couldn’t let them find out he had been tracking them, trying to find ways to kill them. There was always a possibility they had communicated his attempts to attack them to each other, but they wouldn’t know anymore about him. Who knew what level of pain the Grand could inflict on them if they were found out.
Brewer toyed with the idea of holing up in a hotel for a couple of weeks to wait it out then dismissed it. The flat had always been his safe place to come back to, and unless they stayed there to see what happened, he would never know if it was truly a secret from the hikers. They would stand their ground and if one came for them, they would deal with it. Somehow.
Satisfied with his decision, Brewer poured himself another measure of JD. He settled in to wait for the coverage of the murder at the golf club on the news.
Chapter 19
He hadn’t seen the flat, but he’d seen enough. He had found the memories of the man pulling the girl back from the platform, to save her from being killed. He’d seen them escape from his fellow brother.
The man’s mind had been too well adapted at keeping him out. He’d never encountered someone he couldn’t read before. Something wasn’t right.
The job had been complete, albeit with less bloodshed than he’d intended. The target was dead though so there would be no remonstrating from the Grand. Their father.
He had not enjoyed the outcome; it had been very unsatisfactory. He’d spent time preparing for the perfect scene, and had sought out the ideal vessel. Now, thanks to the interference, the woman was still alive and the vessel had gotten away. He hadn’t even relished in the kill as much as he’d wanted, he’d been too eagerly anticipating slaughtering the innocent woman. Maybe even some other bystanders or police when they’d arrived.
No, the job had not gone well. He was still hungry for death. He would have to find a particularly twisted soul and torture them suicide to even attempt to satisfy his need. Perhaps the Grand would have another job for him very soon. This mission was complete so he was a free agent again.
He was on the move. He travelled to a larger town to begin his search for a new victim. His thoughts were primitive but the need to inform the Grand of this new development was as strong as the desire to hunt. Initiating contact with the Grand was almost unheard of. There were some older brothers he could report to, however this was an urgent matter. A threat to their existence.
