Hunters: A Trilogy

by Paul A. Rice

  George just about stopped himself from gasping with surprise; his anger and confusion were clearly visible on the monitor. ‘Who has the second device?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t think it was functional, I mean, Jonathon, he…you have it, don’t you?’ He looked visibly shocked.

  Red roared with laughter. ‘Yeah, that’s about the sum o’ things, old Georgie boy!’ he said, gleefully. ‘I have it right here with me, I’ve had it for a while, and ifen you all don’ bring me back up the pipe to your world, then I guess ol’ MJDoublya ain’t gonna save your ass this time, now is he?’ Once more he slapped the dashboard with glee.

  Jane was surprised at the speed, with which George replied.

  ‘Yes, yes we can do that, Red,’ he said, hurriedly. ‘Please do not activate the second device, whatever you do, just keep it safe! We can talk once you are with us, all this can be sorted out amicably I believe…’ Whilst he spoke, the image on the screen showed him tilt his head to one side, as if listening to someone out of shot. There was a barely perceptible nod of the grey head, after which he turned back to the screen. ‘There is only one problem, Red,’ he said, ‘you must remain in the Spear and make sure that you have one of the suits on, a second crossing will be fatal should you use Shrink Down unprotected again. The device must of course be protected by the vehicle, do you understand?’ He leant forward, as if trying to peer into the jolting cab of the Spear.

  Red grinned insanely. ‘That’s okay with me, partner,’ he said. ‘You all jus’ tell me where to be and I’ll get right to it, I don’t have nothin’ else on my mind right now anyway. I’ll be a good boy jus’ as long as you don’t try fukin’ with me, is all! One tiny sniff o’ anythang funny and I will blow us all to kingdom come, you hear me?’ He grinned again, a malicious twisting of the features, as he fought the steering wheel, which bucked back from the violent jarring of the giant wheels beneath him.

  George calmly replied: ‘Yes, that will be fine, I believe that we have an understanding now. If you would be so kind as to make your way to SD House and wait at the entrance, we will then set the coordinates to bring you and the vehicle back to us. But, as I have said, please ensure that you are wearing the suit, you will find it in the back of your Spear…’

  Red laughed once more, said that he would ‘See George there!’ and then pushed the throttle even further into the floor of the Spear. It almost appeared to be flying across the dust-ridden road as it carried him to a new-found destiny. The trees, the grass and the weeds, shrank back from its rushing bulk as the vehicle hurtled past them. Red’s maniac laughter filled the ears of the on-looking trio.

  Jane felt the hairs on her arms rise as the malevolence of the man transmitted itself through the airwaves. ‘What a pure bastard that man is!’ She couldn’t help herself from whispering the words; her reaction caused Ken to grasp her tightly around the waist. His touch calmed her but she still had a jittery, butterfly feeling in her chest. Red scared her, no two ways about it. Turning back to the screen, she was just in time to see his Spear entering the perimeter of the old airbase. Kandahar airfield was new to her but even she couldn’t help marvelling at the greenery of the place. Everywhere there was new growth – even the giant perimeter fences and concrete barriers were covered with creeping vines and suchlike.

  Seeming to hear her thoughts, Ken said, ‘Look at the place, imagine what it must be like now, looks like some kind of Eden or something!’

  Mike’s reply was far from simple. ‘Don’t forget that this was in our past, although, it may well be from a future we haven’t been through yet,’ he said. Both his companions nodded, his words still leaving them slightly baffled. Then he said, ‘It is still pretty amazing, though, in a while it will be as though mankind had never been there!’ His short laugh was curtailed by the sight of the driver’s door on the Spear rising and permitting exit to the large American.

  Red climbed out, then stood and stamped some circulation back into his baseball-boot clad feet, the size of which looked as though they belonged in some freakish clown show. Standing upright, he rotated his massive head and Jane swore she heard his vertebrae crackle. Then, as calm as you like, he unzipped his Levis to stand with hands on hips, urinating onto the ground.

  ‘This guy just doesn’t have a care in the world, does he?’ Ken said, angrily.

  Jane felt the icy-cold anger stir within her husband as he spoke. She squeezed his left hand tightly and he held onto her until the moment had passed.

  They watched as Red walked to the rear of the vehicle. Reaching inside, he pulled out the flight suit and proceeded to wriggle his large frame into the silver-coloured garment. After a short struggle, he managed to yank the zipper closed and then pulled the material tight around his thick neck. Shrugging himself into the suit, he made his way back to the driver’s door and swung his bulk back into the seat. Both the door and tailgate closed, sealing him inside the impenetrable hulk of the Spear. Reaching under the seat, Red withdrew a small pebble. He grinned to himself and placed it upon the contoured surface of the passenger seat next to him. Leaning forward, he tapped the screen twice and then said to George, who had appeared in a blue shimmer, ‘Ready when you are, George, ready when you are!’

  The old man smiled, saying: ‘Good, let us begin then, shall we?’ Leaning to one side he made a small movement with his right hand, whatever he touched caused a green light to course throughout the Spear; it looked almost as though it had been passed under a giant, supermarket checkout scanner. The light passed straight through the vehicle and also straight through Red.

  Jumping in surprise, he shouted out: ‘What in the fuk was that? That ain’t ever happened before!’ He tried to turn, but the python-like seatbelts did their thing and he was clamped tightly into the bucket seat. Simultaneously, his flight suit began to glow a brilliant green, showering the inside of the vehicle with its iridescent rays. Red screamed and raised his hands to cover his eyes. ‘Goddamn you, you lying muthafuka! What in the hell are you doing? I told you not to mess with me!’ He reached over and grabbed for the stone, pulling it towards himself. The huge man fumbled, desperately trying to find the hidden switch that had initiated the previous Light Maker.

  To his furious disbelief, the object did nothing. Sitting in sullen blankness and doing nothing more than a stone would do, for in truth that is all it was, and all it ever had been. Reality dawned upon Red – he howled with fury, hurling the stone at the windshield. It bounced off the glass and landed in his lap, to lie there cold and stonily bereft of any magic or hidden power.

  Red stared at the inert object and then started a violent struggle to get out of the seatbelts, it was to be of no use, even his immense strength was of no avail and the belts simply tightened their grip, sucking him further into the seat’s unfeeling caress. Eventually he gave up, hardly being able breathe through their iron embrace. His breath rattled as he struggled to recoup the oxygen the tantrum had devoured.

  George looked down at him from the screen. ‘Have you quite finished now, young man?’ he asked, calmly. The old man’s rendition of a patronising Headmaster was so real that it made all three of the onlookers laugh loudly.

  ‘He’s a rum bugger is our George, isn’t he?’ Jane said. Unable to contain herself, she laughed once more. ‘Look at Red’s face now that he realises what’s going on, George has him just where he wants him!’ she whispered, obviously in awe of the old man’s sleight of hand.

  George continued in a similar vein. ‘Now…you listen to me, Dwayne Tolder,’ he said. ‘And make sure you that you listen really carefully as these are the last words you will ever hear…I speak to you on behalf of the entire population of this tiny Universe, the one you would so casually dispense with. I speak to you on behalf of all the over-watching worlds and on behalf of the ancient ones, whose skill and dedication made this possible!’ He paused, breathed deeply, and then continued. ‘I also speak to you on behalf of Mister Wilson and the others you have left in your wake. But, most of all, I speak to you on be
half of my friend, Jonathon!’ The old man’s voice quivered with anger as he spoke of his dear, dead friend.

  Red smashed his forehead onto the steering wheel, uttering a strangled scream of rage as a thick rivulet of blood ran into his left eye. His lips spat blood and hatred. ‘Fuk you – fuk all of ya!’ he snarled. Red shook his head back and forth so violently that for one second it seemed as though he might be having some kind of a fit.

  Red’s tormentor never batted an eyelid. ‘Yes, yes, I know that you are angry, and that is quite understandable. But, so are we, Mister Tolder, we are very angry indeed!’ George said, smiling menacingly. ‘We are angry that someone such as yourself, someone who is so selfish, so mean, self-centred and uncaring as you are, would even contemplate trying to outwit us!’ He leant forward, anger leaping from his eyes, his gaze almost seeming to illuminate the interior of the Spear.

  Seeing that gaze seemed to deflate Red, he shrank back into the seat and lowered his head, ginger hairs on the backs of those huge hands glistening as he clasped his skull. After a while, he raised his head and looked at the monitor.

  With eyes bulging, he uttered his penultimate sentence.

  ‘Fuk all o’ ya!’ he whispered, then sat back and closed his eyes.

  George’s acidic words knifed into the stillness of the cab, ‘Actually, it will be you, who gets ‘fucked’ old chap,’ he snapped. ‘Yes, ‘fucked’, indeed!’

  The pause before the old man’s next sentence seemed to be interminable.

  Eventually he continued, saying: ‘You see, we thought you may well be up to no good from the very beginning, but we played along in the vain hope that some goodness may be forthcoming from you and your masters. It was never an option really, was it? You were all far too greedy! But we know that now, don’t we?’

  He went on to explain how they had let Red think he had a second device, how they had tricked him with electronic wizardry and made the second stone appear as though it was a real Light Maker. It was just a game to them and they had never imagined Red would do what he had done. George said that Red had never been to their world, it was just another piece of holographic imagery, merely a little trick they had played on him and he had never even left the surface of the planet. The brutal slaying of Jonathon and Mr Wilson, and the unexpected stealing of the real Light Maker had caught them by surprise. Luckily, Michael and Kenneth were at hand, even though they were both killed, they had been used to provoke Red into initiating the device, a device that had been merely a prototype.

  George looked down from the screen and shook his head in despair.

  ‘We needed you to initiate the device,’ he whispered. ‘Anything in order to get it out of your hands would do, the chance of it actually exploding was never going to be a problem because Michael was always going to be able to heal it anyway. We just wanted you away from the Stone, far away from it. You see, we needed you to bring the Demon to us, bring the Darkness to a place of our choosing, a place from which there can be no escape!’ He stared without emotion at his prisoner. Then, after a short pause, during which neither man spoke, George eventually said, ‘And so, here you are, my dear boy, here you are indeed!’ He smiled disarmingly.

  Red said nothing, sitting there with a sullen expression upon his face, the trickle of blood had coagulated on his cheek as he sat with eyes shut, huge fists rhythmically opening and closing.

  George continued, saying: ‘So, you see, I am afraid to say that you, young master Red, are nothing more than a trap!’ He raised his eyebrows questioningly but only received a low moan in reply from the captive giant.

  When George spoke again, it was as though he’d become a Judge, one who had donned a black cap and was delivering his final sentence. Very calmly, he announced: ‘So, we are going to bring you back, yes, definitely – but your final destination will not be within the luxurious surroundings that you so desire. No, you will have a far more illustrious final abode!’ He stared into the cab, eyes glowing as he delivered the final blow.

  With a thin smile, he said, ‘We are transferring you straight into the centre of the universe, it will be there, amongst the beauty and the blackness of its endless horizons, that you will be detonated. With you will be one of the last remaining pieces of this current Demon, he and you will be spread across the infinite heavens!’ With his voice cracking in anger, George continued with Red’s bad news. ‘It is all rather fitting, is it not? I do believe that if you did have any Gods, then they may well take this generous gesture into account before deciding upon your eternal fate, my friend!’ he said, gazing unblinkingly into the cab of the Spear.

  Red’s face had gone white, eyes bulging obscenely from their sockets. The shocking rush of truth had completely stunned him. He looked rather like a school bully, one who had been confronted by someone much bigger and much smarter than he, someone who, without compassion, was going to give him the hiding of his life. Red looked about ready to weep as he spoke his final words, although a begging rant would be a rather more accurate description.

  ‘No, please don’t send me! I can be more o’ a help to yo’all,’ he pleaded. ‘I can change, it was them others made me do it, they said you were full o’ sheeit, said I should get the device, they made me do it!’

  The awful sound of George’s dry laugh sent Red into despair, he screamed, and it was the sound of playground misery.

  ‘I know thangs! I kin help, you cain’t sends me nowhere, please don’t kill me, please don’t…’ Fat, greasy tears burst their banks and rolled down his cheeks, they mixed with the blood to become a crimson river, running across his chin, frantic breathing caused tiny red bubbles to froth in the corner of his quivering mouth. With a horrible shudder, he began to stiffen, almost as though he was receiving an electric shock.

  It was then that the Darkness made its appearance. A smoky black mist wisped from Red’s body, like steam rising from damp clothing, its liquidity writhed obscenely and began to race around the inside of the vehicle, slithering into every nook-and-cranny, oozing into the air vents and smearing itself against the windows. In desperation the substance tried to escape, whilst Red remained sitting in stupefied silence, mouth hanging open, frozen in wild-eyed horror as the Darkness fluttered around him in hopeless anger.

  George looked disapprovingly at him. Then he shook his head and said, ‘You know nothing, Red, nothing at all, the Darkness has taken you, and so, it is together that you must go!’

  Then, and with no more than a casual flick of his left hand, George sent Red into eternity. Bright light surrounded the vehicle, and with a quivering blink, it and Red were gone. Jane was quite sure that she heard Red utter a long, gurgling scream; it was the sound of a lonely child, trapped at the bottom of a very deep well, an awful, soul-wrenching plea of a scream. And one that went unanswered.

  As the silver screen before them began to darken, they heard George’s voice once more. ‘And so the World turns…’ he said. With that, the screen shimmered once and then dissolved back into the machine from whence it had appeared.

  Mike turned to them, saying: ‘And that, ladies and gents, will be the end of Red and, you’ll be happy to hear, the end of the Darkness he inherited from his father. In that particular line of events, this is how it will all end.’

  Ken was ecstatic. ‘Bloody hell!’ he said. ‘What an ironic way for him to get the good news, I’m really glad that we’re on George’s side!’ He shook his head in amazement, or horror, or both.

  Jane didn’t quite know what to say, so she asked if they would like a drink, and without waiting for an answer, stood up and made her way into the kitchen. She was amazed by what she had seen, but was also pleased as she now knew for sure, one hundred per cent, that Ken was fine. Previously there had been a tiny shadow of doubt in her mind. ‘Maybe the injury has sent him nuts…’

  However, that particular thought had now jumped on the first plane ride out of her mind. ‘And don’t come back, either!’ she whispered. Now she knew that he was definitely okay, an
d that was just fine by her. They were together once more, and with Mike’s help, would be able to make some sense of this.

  Jane felt sure of that.

  What the hell that black stuff had been, was an entirely different question…

  Reaching up to the cupboard, she fetched the bottle of brandy down once more. Thinking out loud, she said, ‘I think we could all do with a good shot of this!’ The words made her smile as she switched the kettle on and reached for some fresh mugs. In the dining room, she heard the two men laughing.

  Jane closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks to their Guardian Angels for bringing them home to her. ‘I hope you lot have plenty of overtime left,’ she joked with the winged ones, ‘it looks as though you’re going to be needing it!’

  7

  Honey-Trap

  It had been a while since the kid had been killed. Stevo guessed it was almost two years ago now, but, to be honest, he didn’t care how long it had been, or about the kid. It just so happened to be that it was all over the news again. Some dumb-blonde reporter was waffling on about the case once more. By the sounds of things, Gazzer had put in another appeal, reckoning he was unduly punished, crying that his sentence was too stiff.

  Stevo snarled at the picture. ‘Whining little prick, he’d pulled the trigger, hadn’t he? The shit-head should have made sure he had hit the bastards he was aiming for, shouldn’t he?’ He threw the remote at the TV. The thin plastic case exploded on impact, sending its batteries rattling off the wooden unit. The Sanyo’s volume rose into a speaker-crackling crescendo. Stevo groaned: ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Rising to his feet, he reached over, hit the off button and headed for the fridge, a thick coating of spilled beer and other unmentionables sucking at the soles of his black Nike trainers as he walked across the lino-covered floor.

  Grabbing himself a can of Special Brew from the otherwise-empty fridge, he slammed the door shut and cracked the ring pull. The frothy liquid burst forth and Stevo stooped to capture most of the foam in his open mouth, he let the rest of it escape to run across his chin and spatter in amongst the rest of the filth below. He chugged half of the beer in one go, lowered the can and belched loudly.