by Lauren Algeo
Mitch leaned over the counter to get a closer look at the hiker. Her eyes latched onto him instantly and her snarl turned into a smirk.
‘Fresh meat,’ she murmured.
Brewer bolted round the counter and knocked Mitch flying towards the back door.
‘Get outside,’ he said gruffly. ‘Keep out of the way and don’t let her into your mind.’
Mitch tried to protest however Brewer closed the door on his words. He didn’t want the kid getting toyed with like a plaything by that bitch.
‘Don’t be shy.’ He heard the hiker leer behind him. ‘I know you’re back there.’
Brewer realised she was talking to Ellen, who was standing frozen with a can of chopped tomatoes in her hands. Her head whipped round to look at him and he gestured to the garden but she shook her head stubbornly. She wasn’t going to be forced outside too.
Ellen knew Mitch was still in danger, even in the garden. The hiker’s reach would be extensive. If she remained in the kitchen with Brewer then the hiker would focus all of her efforts on them and hopefully leave Mitch alone.
‘I’m staying,’ she said firmly.
Brewer understood why and didn’t argue with her. ‘Try and keep her out, just like I told you. Imagine there’s only one way into your mind and it’s a door that’s heavily locked. If she gets in then try to push her back out of the door again and bolt it behind her.’ He spoke low and fast so the hiker couldn’t hear. ‘If you’re having real trouble getting rid of her, then just concentrate on guarding the important memories. If she gets to Lucy then she’ll use that against you and punish you with thoughts of her death. Distract her with other memories instead – books you read at work, places you’ve been, anything like that. If you can, protect the thoughts about the venom too.’
Ellen nodded and wet her dry lips. It all sounded so complicated but she had to do her best. She didn’t want that evil thing getting her hands on images of her beautiful daughter. She was on the verge of panic yet she forced herself to carry on making their lunch and kept her mind as blank as possible. She began to recite cooking instructions as she searched in the cupboards for a large saucepan.
Brewer squeezed her arm gently as he walked past then stood in front of the hiker with his arms folded.
‘No one else wants to play?’ she clucked with an eyebrow raised. ‘You tell me what I want to know.’
‘No.’
‘Please,’ she purred through lowered eyelids.
He wasn’t falling for it, and he was prepared for her a split second later when she exploded into his mind. Her strength was increasing with her rage and he had to battle for longer to get her out. She snatched at some recent memories before he could fully evict her.
‘You shot me with venom!’ she screamed in anger.
He heard Ellen inhale sharply behind him. Shit, he hadn’t wanted the hiker to know about that yet. There wasn’t much he could do about it now but he would’ve preferred the method of her impending death to remain a mystery. He didn’t want her to learn anything that could possibly be relayed back to the Grand before she died.
He kept his face neutral and tried not to let on that she’d rattled him. ‘Yes, we did. And we have plenty more if you don’t answer our questions.’
He got the second dart of the liquid-mixed venom and placed it on the counter. The hiker responded by heaving violently only she didn’t vomit again. Her breathing was laboured and her skin was pallid. She glared at him but didn’t protest or try to attack, which he understood as compliance.
He leant back against the counter. ‘What is your name?’
There was nothing but stony silence from the hiker. She wasn’t ready to give in just yet. He fetched the tranquiliser gun from the bags and laid it next to the full dart.
‘This is only the beginning of your pain,’ he said. ‘If you think you feel bad now, it’s going to get a million times worse if I have to use this venom too. I won’t inject it all at once either. I’ll add it slowly, dose by excruciating dose, until you beg for mercy.’
His steady voice belied no hint of the fear he felt under the surface. This wasn’t quite the same as bargaining with criminals back at the police station – he hadn’t used torture as a threat then.
The hiker must have believed him, as she looked scared under the green tinge of her complexion. If news of his previous exploits hadn’t reached American soil then she would have no clue what he was capable of. She didn’t seem to know who he was or what he was doing there.
‘Well?’ he pressed.
‘Tabitha,’ she replied through gritted teeth. Her body quivered on the floor with the effects of the venom.
‘That’s better.’ He turned to nod at Ellen, who didn’t meet his gaze.
Perhaps she didn’t approve of the techniques he was using? He didn’t see why not though, if she wanted the hiker to die quickly. The faster she answered their questions, the better. He decided to start with some easy ones.
‘How old are you?’
She glared sullenly at him. He could only imagine the pain and confusion she was experiencing. It served her right for murdering in cold blood.
‘Thirty-seven.’ He heard her response in his mind this time.
‘Did you hear that?’ Ellen asked. Her voice was raw with fear.
‘I did,’ he said. ‘She’ll be struggling to control herself through the venom.’
Thirty-seven seemed quite young. In appearance, she could have been anything from twenty to forty, but she was more youthful than some of the others he’d seen. Only a fraction of how old the Grand must be.
‘Where are you from?’ he asked.
‘Here,’ came the reluctant reply.
‘Where exactly?’
‘Everywhere. I’m not certain. Tennessee, I believe.’
It didn’t really matter; he was only interested in one particular question. He took a deep breath and formed his lips around the difficult words. ‘Where is the Grand?’
A flicker of confusion crossed the hiker’s face and her eyebrows creased down in uncertainty. ‘I don’t… understand.’
‘The Grand. Where is he?’ His heart was pumping wildly under his ribcage.
‘I don’t know who you mean. Who is the Grand?’ The hiker’s voice had risen an octave and her chest heaved with the effort of breathing.
‘You know exactly who I mean!’ Brewer roared. Surely the hiker was playing with him? She would know full well who he was. ‘Your father,’ he said quieter. ‘Where is he?’
The hiker’s eyes widened with realisation. ‘Father?’
‘Yes, father. He would have just arrived.’
The bewildered expression returned. ‘No, Master has always been here. I don’t know where he is at present.’
‘Master?’ Brewer had never heard the Grand referred to as that before. The hikers had only ever spoken about him as ‘Grand’ or ‘father’.
Before he could ask any more questions for clarity, the hiker began to convulse on the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head and spasms rocked her body.
‘What should we do?’ Ellen whispered from over his right shoulder.
He’d almost forgotten she was standing there. He’d been so captivated by the hiker that he hadn’t registered the sweet smell of cooking tomatoes filling the kitchen either. He noticed a pot of red sauce bubbling on the hob, with another pot of boiling pasta next to it. He glanced to the left and saw Mitch’s face pressed up against the glass pane of the back door like a lost child.
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ he said. ‘We’ll just have to let her succumb to the venom.’
The hiker was well and truly out of it now and he motioned for Mitch to come back inside.
‘Thank god for that!’ he exclaimed as he closed the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. ‘It’s getting cold out there.’
He spied the food on the cooker. ‘That looks awesome! Is it nearly ready?’
He bounced past Ellen before either
of them could respond. ‘What happened to the… oh.’ He stopped when he rounded the counter and saw the hiker sprawled on the floor. ‘She doesn’t look so good.’
‘No, she doesn’t.’ Brewer rubbed tiredly at his forehead.
His mind was still trying, and failing, to process what she’d said. Why had she called him Master?
‘Did she answer any questions?’ Mitch asked.
‘Some,’ Ellen replied. ‘Let’s eat first, then we can talk about that.’
She got three plates out of the cupboard and dished them penne pasta with tomato and basil sauce. The hiker was too close to the dining table so they carried their food through to the living room. Mitch and Ellen sat on a two-seater flowery sofa and Brewer plonked his body wearily onto the matching armchair.
He lifted a forkful of steaming pasta to his mouth and began to chew. He was surprised by how tasty it was; Ellen had managed to pull together something delicious with limited ingredients.
‘This is great, Mrs Mac!’ Mitch grinned. He was shovelling his pasta in and had some sauce on his chin.
‘It’s not much,’ she smiled modestly.
‘No, it’s really good,’ Brewer said. ‘Thank you.’
She nodded and glanced down at her plate. He felt a flutter of disappointment in his stomach. She was acting as though she was suddenly afraid of him. Had he really been that aggressive? He didn’t have the energy to worry about that when there was too much going on in his head.
He tried to drown out all the noise and just go through the motions of eating. The warming food began to fill his belly and lifted some of the feeling of failure. He hadn’t gotten nearly as much as they needed from the hiker but at least it was a start.
Ellen was daintily picking at her pasta however Mitch had inhaled his and was now loudly scraping the last of the sauce from the plate. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat back with a sigh.
‘That was awesome,’ he said. ‘So, now you can tell me what she told you?’
Ellen put her fork down. ‘Well, she said her name is Tabitha, and that she’s thirty-seven years old.’
‘Wait, hikers have names?’ Mitch said. ‘That’s really weird!’
Brewer pressed his fingers to his forehead again. He’d mentioned some of the hikers back in England by name when he’d told Mitch his story but the kid clearly hadn’t been paying attention.
‘It seems like quite an old-fashioned name,’ Ellen said.
‘What else did “Tabitha” tell you?’ Mitch said her name while bending two fingers on each hand, like the hiker had been lying and it warranted inverted commas.
‘Not a lot,’ Ellen admitted. ‘Scott asked her about the Grand but she got all confused then she started fitting on the floor.’
Brewer stayed quiet and kept eating mechanically until his plate was empty.
‘At least you tried,’ Mitch shrugged. ‘Maybe with the next one we’ll be able to get more from them.’
They sat in silence until Ellen finished eating. Brewer’s eyes scanned the room and took in the thick nets over the window at the front of the house. There were heavy, navy curtains framing it that should block out any light and movement if they turned the kitchen lights on that evening.
Brewer led the way through to the kitchen a couple of minutes later and halted in the doorway. Ellen hit the back of him with the suddenness and her plate dug into his spine. Somehow, during the short time they’d been out of the room, the hiker’s health had changed. She had managed to drag herself quietly over to the back door and was now sitting up, trying to reach the door handle with her bound hands.
‘Oh my god!’ The words spilled out of Ellen’s mouth before she could stop them and the hiker spun around at the sound.
Some minimal colour had returned to her cheeks and she seemed to be breathing easier.
‘Keep back,’ she snarled at them.
Brewer sprang into action and ran towards her. He grabbed the hiker by her thick hair and began to haul her away from the door. They couldn’t let her get outside and alert people to their presence.
‘Stay in the living room!’ he shouted over his shoulder.
Mitch was still in there but Ellen had taken two steps into the kitchen when Brewer had bolted. The hiker latched onto her and slipped inside her surprised mind with ease.
‘How dare you try to harm me!’ the hiker spat. Her voice echoed through Ellen’s head. ‘I’ll make you pay.’
‘Scott, she’s inside!’ Ellen’s voice wavered with shock. She had thought the hiker was dying, how was this possible?
Brewer paused mid-way across the room and let go of the hiker. She fell heavily to the floor but her presence didn’t falter to Ellen.
‘Remember what I told you,’ Brewer instructed. ‘Try to block her out.’
She tried her best to envisage a door only her thoughts were too muddled. The hiker was busy hunting through her memories and the feeling was horrible. She was going so much deeper than she had back at the high school. She was finding out personal things now. Ellen felt sick with dread. It was no good, soon she would find out about…
‘Poor Lucy.’ The hiker’s voice was filled with mock sadness.
‘No!’ Ellen cried out loud. The plate fell from her fingers and shattered on the floor. ‘You leave her alone!’
Brewer realised instantly what was happening. The hiker was too far in and Ellen couldn’t stop her. He searched the room desperately and his gaze settled on the tranquiliser gun. There was no other option. He snatched up the gun and fumbled with the venom dart. There wasn’t much time.
‘She was so young… and beautiful,’ the hiker cooed.
An image of Lucy’s smiling face flashed to the front of Ellen’s mind. A whimper escaped her throat and she squeezed her eyes tightly closed, hoping to block out the vision. It made no difference – Lucy’s face still burned in her mind.
Please stop, she begged internally.
‘Stop?’ the hiker teased. ‘I haven’t even started yet. What did your friend say? Until you beg for mercy.’
The mental image of Lucy was replaced with the moment she went over the edge of the ridge. The hiker played it like a slow motion video. Lucy looked directly at Ellen, with knowing in her eyes, and then she walked straight off without pausing.
‘I’m so pleased my brother killed her,’ the hiker taunted.
Please. Tears began to creep out from the corners of Ellen’s closed eyes.
Brewer managed to get the dart loaded and turned the barrel of the gun to the hiker, who was lying on the floor, laughing.
‘Leave her!’ he yelled.
He didn’t wait for a response and shot straight at her chest. He was close enough for his aim not to stray too much and the needle of the dart penetrated her skin just below her neck. She let out a howl of surprise and to Ellen’s relief, her consuming presence evaporated from her mind. The cruel images of Lucy faded instantly to darkness and Ellen fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
The hiker turned her aggression straight to Brewer. ‘How dare you!’ she screamed out loud.
‘I told you there would be more.’ He glowered at her with the gun still in his hand. He wanted to go to Ellen and comfort her however he had to keep the hiker occupied until the fresh batch of venom took full effect.
‘I wasn’t finished with my questions earlier,’ he said instead.
He heard some commotion behind him and knew Mitch would be helping Ellen to the moderate safety of the other room. He kept his attention on the hiker.
She laughed bitterly at him. ‘You will not be getting anything else from me.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Brewer said. ‘You’ve had a double dose of venom now. Who knows what secrets you’ll reveal?’
She carried on laughing wildly and ripped the dart from her neck. ‘I know you have no more venom. I saw it in her mind. If I’m going to die now anyway, there will be no answers.’
Brewer’s face fell. If she knew he had no meth
od to torture her with then he had nothing to hold over her. It was useless. He reached down angrily with his spare hand and took hold of her bound wrists. He dragged her the rest of the way round to the kitchen table and threw her hard against the wall.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs and finally ended her insane giggling. Before he could stop himself, Brewer raised the gun in both hands and hit her across the temple with the butt of it. There was a solid crack and the hiker slumped down onto the ground. She was only out for a couple of seconds but the extra venom was acting rapidly.
He stood over her, panting, ready to strike again but she didn’t sit up. She stayed on the floor and whimpered softly. The blow to the head wouldn’t have done anything but give her a mildly irritating headache for a moment, the venom would be doing the real damage. The hiker heaved violently and bile flew from her lips. He watched her with disgust then finally released his grip on the gun and put it on the table. She was writhing in pain and no threat for the moment.
Brewer crossed swiftly to the living room. Mitch had steered Ellen to the sofa and was sitting with a comforting arm around her shoulders, trying to soothe her. He looked helplessly up at Brewer as he entered the room. Consoling grieving women was not his forte. Brewer gestured for him to move aside and he did so gratefully.
Ellen’s face was buried in her hands, and her body shook with the force of the sobs. Brewer crouched down on the floor in front of the sofa and gently pulled one of her hands towards him. It was wet with tears.
‘I know how hard that was for you,’ he said softly. ‘Believe me, I’ve been through the exact same thing with Karen’s memory.’
Ellen glanced up through tear-filled eyes at the mention of his wife’s name. He’d only ever spoken of Karen once before to her.
‘They used her too?’ she sniffed.
‘Yes, the Grand used visions of her to torture me with,’ he nodded. ‘It was too awful for words, and I understand how heart breaking that must have been for you. The only way you can move forward now is to try and get stronger. To work on your mental blocking so you can prevent that ever happening again. You have to protect Lucy so they can never use her again. Can you do that?’
