The Hunted

by Alan Jacobson

  “She died?”

  “I never had a mother.”

  Normally, when a psychotherapist worked with a patient who had MPD, making contact with the person’s alter was fairly easy. But these conditions were anything but normal. For all she knew, a more dangerous and irrational alter could emerge—if her diagnosis was even correct in the first place.

  But she had to try. And that meant she had to find a way of breaking through. The finance manager she had counseled last year who had moved west from New York suddenly appeared in her mind. The way he said mother, dropping the er and replacing it with an a, was similar to Hung Jin’s pronunciation. She decided to go fishing again. “We all have mothers. Yours was from New York. Do you remember your house in New York?”

  Hung Jin sat in the chair staring at her, not answering. He seemed to be thinking about something. This is good. She would keep her eyes focused on her patient, hoping to discern the slightest sign that an alter was emerging.

  “Your mother, did she ever take you on trips, or to parks or on rides, like at Coney Island?”

  Hung Jin did not move, did not speak; he stared straight ahead, transfixed on a point beyond Lauren’s head.

  “Your mother loved you a lot. Try and picture her,” Lauren said softly. “It’ll help to shut your eyes. Go ahead and relax, let your eyes close and focus on my voice. It’ll help you see your mom.”

  Still, Hung Jin did not respond. A few seconds later, he blinked twice; his eyes closed, then opened, and closed again. Lauren’s heart rate increased. She was getting through! She already knew he was susceptible to hypnosis, and susceptibility was important to success in contacting an alter.

  “I want you to remain calm and sit as comfortably as possible in the chair,” Lauren told him. “I’d like you to think about your mom. Let that part of your mind that remembers her best come forward and talk with me. While that other part of your mind is talking, you will be asleep, relaxing and comfortable. When you’re ready, when the other part of your mind has taken control, I want you to open your eyes.”

  She watched as Hung Jin’s head fell backward, rolled to the left, and then moved back to center. That was it! A visual cue. She was correct in her diagnosis. Just then, her patient opened his eyes. To Lauren, his face took on a softer tone; the skin was smoother, the eyes wider, the forehead relaxed.

  Her patient sighed. “I’m so tired.” The voice was slightly higher and less hoarse.

  “You’ll get a chance to rest in a little while. Right now, I’d like to ask you your name so I can talk with you as a friend.”

  “My name’s Anthony.”

  “Okay, Anthony. Mine’s Lauren. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Just then, her patient stood up and kicked the chair behind him. It flew backward across the room. He looked down at Lauren, his eyes fire red with anger, his face hard and his teeth clenched. His head twice jerked hard to the left.

  “Anthony, please, calm—”

  “You think you can outsmart me, Doctor? You can’t!” He swung at her, a backhand that slammed against her right cheek and sent Lauren crashing to the floor. He hovered over her body, grabbed the chair, and let loose a primal scream as he lifted her into the air and slammed her down to the ground. The force of the impact of wood seat against the floor sent a jolt of pain up her spine. As if that were not punishment enough, he tightened the ropes around her chest.

  “Please don’t... hurt me,” she gasped. “I’m just...trying to... help you. I’m just... trying to... help you.”

  “If you wanted to help me, you’d answer the one simple question I asked you.”

  Tears streaming down her face, her stomach muscles cramping from the pain, she tried to slow her respiration and lessen the painfully restricted heavings of her chest. She finally looked up at Hung Jin. “I did. I don’t know... where my... husband is.”

  “That remains to be seen, Doctor.” He grabbed the rope around her neck and pulled. “That remains to be seen.”

  Lauren felt the pressure build up in her head as the blood flow to her brain slowed. Her heart, trying to compensate, began pounding. She looked at him, her eyes silently pleading for him to stop.

  He leaned into her face again, his nose an inch from hers. “Where is Harper Payne?”

  22

  With Hung Jin’s face up against hers, the cabin door suddenly swung open, bringing with it a forceful draft of freezing air. The candle flickered several times before finally going out. Almost completely in the dark now, with only a splash of moonlight projecting through the open doorway of the cabin, Lauren began to sweat—while still shivering from the frigid wind that ripped through her thin flannel pajamas.

  Hung Jin reluctantly turned and kicked the door closed. He reached into his pocket and rooted out a red Bic lighter, then relit the candle. He turned to Lauren and paused. “Now, where was I?”

  Lauren looked at her captor and attempted to assess what this man was all about. But with her brain still deprived of oxygen, she felt she was on the verge of losing consciousness. She blinked and shook her head. Stay awake. Focus.

  Hung Jin walked behind her and pulled on the rope. It tightened down on her chest again, a cobra coiling around her, attempting to squeeze the life out of her.

  Lauren’s mind went blank. Everything that she had been concentrating on so hard was gone. All she could think about was trying to get a breath.

  With a sudden thrust, he yanked on her wrist bindings until they clamped down so tight her hands began to tingle. Tears rolled across her cheeks. And as quickly as her mind had gone blank, something wormed its way into her thoughts.

  Lauren struggled for a breath. “When I was... a teenager I had a boyfriend... who would handcuff me to the headboard. Tommy. He was tall and very muscular, and when he... grabbed my arms it would hurt. He’d throw me... onto the bed, a brass bed, and I’d be naked.” She paused. “I can’t... breathe. Loosen ropes.” She waited a moment, then felt him loosen the bindings around her chest. As she suspected, he wanted to hear more. Good. “Tommy would tighten the cuffs so the metal would be digging into my skin. It hurt, but felt good. It felt so good I told him to make it tighter, and tighter, until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  He moved around in front of her, rested his hands-on her thighs, and looked into her eyes. “Do you want me to make the ropes tighter?”

  Lauren forced a smile as she tried to recall what Steven had told her while under hypnosis. What were the words he had used? “Hit me. Make me bleed.”

  Hung Jin matched her smile, a blissful grin that broadened his narrow face. “Yes, ma’am!” He brought his right hand across to the left side of his torso and unleashed a vicious backhand across Lauren’s face. Blood oozed from her nostrils and bled down into her lips. “I want more,” she said. “Do you feel it, too? Are you enjoying this?”

  He began to breathe faster, his chest rising and falling quickly. But then the smile disappeared and he threw his left hand up to his temple. “Owww!” he screamed, recoiling backward, struggling to maintain his balance. He gripped his skull with both hands and thrust his head backward. “Ahh!”

  Lauren watched as he moaned and dropped to his knees in agony. “I told you to keep some Excedrin nearby, you son of a bitch.”

  “No!” He struggled to get to his feet and leaned his left shoulder against the cabin wall.

  “Untie me!”

  Hung Jin grabbed two handfuls of his hair and moaned.

  “Anthony, are you there? Please, help me.”

  “I won’t let you beat me,” he shouted. And then he did something Lauren had never seen a patient do before—not that any of this was something she’d ever experienced—but he began slamming his head against the wall until he finally crumpled to the floor, where he lay in a heap. He had knocked himself out to avoid leaving his mind susceptible to someone else’s control. Amazing... but not very helpful. Or was it?

  He lay there for what seemed to be five minutes, finally stirring and getting to
his feet. He stumbled forward and stopped directly in front of her.

  Lauren looked down and braced herself. She didn’t know what form of retribution he would choose for what she had just done to him, but whatever it was, it would most certainly involve pain.

  He leaned menacingly over her, his jaw locked and his eyes narrow. “Where is your husband?”

  Lauren wearily lifted her head and made eye contact. His gaze was sterile, devoid of humanity. She tightened her lips and said, “I don’t know.”

  “Then perhaps you need some more convincing in order to properly consider your position.” He grabbed the ligature and tightened it again.

  Seconds later, everything went black.

  23

  Lauren’s face was being slapped in rapid succession...weak, open-handed smacks designed to bring her back to consciousness. She lifted her head, the pounding headache threatening to get worse with each degree of inclination of her chin.

  “This is it, Doctor. Time for truth—or consequences.”

  The air was chilled and Lauren was shivering. She looked up at Hung Jin and groaned. In the relative darkness, she could barely make out a large, dark bruise over his left forehead.

  “I’m in a bitchin’ mood today, Doctor. You know why?” He bent down and rested his palms on his thighs, bringing his eyes level with Lauren’s. “Because today you’re going to tell me where your husband is. And if you don’t, you’re going to die.”

  “I want to... talk to Anthony.”

  “Well, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “I think he does.”

  “I’m sure you do. But we’re not going there now. He’s safe, tucked away, cowering somewhere in a corner of my mind, no doubt.”

  Lauren knew that what he said was actually true. Unless she could locate an efficient trigger that allowed her to touch Anthony’s essence, she would not be communicating with him again. If Hung Jin was aware of her making another attempt—of challenging his authority, his power over her—she was sure he would kill her.

  He grabbed a wooden chair, dragged it in front of Lauren, and turned it around backward. He sat facing her, his arms resting casually over the seat back. “There comes a time in an interrogation where you have to realize you’ve gotten all you’re going to get and you have to just cut your losses.” He pulled out his knife, popped it open, and looked at the shiny silver blade. “And I do mean cut your losses.” That insane laugh again. “That’s funny, Doctor! Don’t tell me you’ve lost your sense of humor!”

  Lauren sat there, realizing she had to tell him something, anything, to prove her value to him. But there was no guarantee that even if she did tell him where Michael was, he would let her live. At that point, she would be useless to him. “My hands... are numb. Loosen... the ropes.”

  With a few twists of his hands, he loosened the rope around her chest just enough to allow her to talk. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Thank God. She never thought she would crave a simple lungful of air.

  “You know what I’m going to ask you, so why make me repeat myself? Let me just cut to the chase. Where is your husband?”

  Every muscle in Lauren’s body ached. Her arms and shoulders were so sore from being pinned back that she didn’t know if she would be able to flex them even if he did free her. Her stomach hurt with every movement, and her ribs ached from being bound. She hadn’t been able to take a decent breath since he had tightened the ropes last night. As she sat there, she pleaded to God to make her captor release her.

  Not having received an answer to his question, Hung Jin reached into his coat pocket and removed a revolver.

  The blood drained from Lauren’s face.

  “I see from your reaction that you recognize this. It’s your daddy’s gun, isn’t it? A Colt six-shooter, manufactured some forty years ago.”

  Lauren stared down at the barrel of the gun, the one that had saved her life two decades ago. This can’t be how it ends.

  “I’m not going to shoot you, at least not right now. We’re going to play a game first. Here, let me demonstrate.” He flicked the cylinder open with his thumb and turned it over, the rounds clunking to the wooden floor. He bent over and picked up one of the brass bullets and fit it into a chamber, then slapped the housing closed. “First, I give the cylinder a spin. Then, I point the weapon at my target and squeeze the trigger.” He aimed the gun at the roof above Lauren’s head. “And this is how we play. I ask you a question, and you refuse to answer. I press the trigger.” The gun clicked: an empty chamber. “Then I ask you another question. You refuse to answer, so I press the trigger again.”

  Hung Jin squeezed and the gun exploded, firing a round through the roof. A fine trail of dirt fell from the hole onto Lauren’s head. “You see, in this particular game you’d only have had two chances to give me the correct answer.” He opened the cylinder, inserted another round, and pointed the gun at Lauren’s head. “This time, you might have four or five chances. Or you might only have one.”

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “If that’s the case, I won’t have anything to lose by killing you, will I?” He extended his elbow and pressed the barrel of the Colt against her forehead. “Once again, where’s Harper Payne?”

  Lauren began to sweat profusely. She bit her lip and started to cry, realizing she had to think up a story, something convincing and something quick. If he thought she was lying, he would kill her instantly.

  “If you kill me, you’ll never find him.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I assure you I most certainly will. You were just the easiest way, and I always try the easiest way first. But I’m a hunter, a survivor. I will find him, however long it takes. Revenge shouldn’t be rushed. It should be savored, like the time we’ve had here. Haven’t you enjoyed it?”

  She had played her hand and lost. Now she needed a story.

  “Time’s up!” Hung Jin squeezed the trigger and a blank chamber clicked. “Only five more to go. I’ll give you till three to tell me what I want to know, and then we’ll try again. One. Two. Three—”

  “Okay!” she screamed. “I’ll tell you. Just take the gun away from my head!”

  A grin broke across Hung Jin’s unshaven cheeks. “Very good.” He nodded slightly. “But I make the rules here, Doctor. This isn’t your office, remember?” His smile faded as he moved his face down even with hers, keeping the weapon against her head. “Now, you were going to give me some information.”

  “He’s in Colorado, cross-country skiing somewhere near Vail. He went with a few of his fraternity buddies. One of them had an e-mail address that spelled out ‘targard.’ I swear, that’s all I know.”

  Hung Jin squinted again, considering her reply. “I’ve had people in Colorado at the big resorts for the past couple of days. As of yesterday, no one had seen or heard of him.”

  “They were out on their own, it’s a new company his friend was setting up—”

  “Name of the company?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know, I’m telling you the truth!” She was staring right at him, holding his cold, gray eyes in her grasp.

  Finally he nodded. “I’m going to verify this information, Doctor, and if I find out you’ve sent me on a wild-goose chase, I will kill you. And it won’t be pleasant, I promise you that.” He rose from his chair. “In this particular instance, you can trust what I’m telling you as fact.”

  He walked to the door and opened it. The high, overcast sky was bright, and it temporarily blinded her as the glare caught her across the face.

  “Cody,” Hung Jin called. “Get in here!”

  A moment later, a stocky man with a shuffling gait entered the cabin carrying a covered plastic pail in his right hand and a spray bottle and brown bag in his left. He had a gold front tooth and his nose was so badly bent from fractures that it didn’t know which way it should point.

  “I got the stuff.” He handed the brown bag to Hung Jin.

  Hung Jin inserted hi
s hand and pulled out a wriggling rat. “This is Simon. Simon says he’s hungry. Cody, do we have something for Simon?”

  Cody dug into his pocket and fished out a Ziploc containing a slice of bread, which he removed from the bag and placed on Lauren’s lap.

  Lauren’s eyes were fixed on the rodent, which was hanging by its tail, writhing helplessly in the air.

  Hung Jin slid back his sleeve and consulted his watch. “While I’m checking out your story, Cody will be in charge of keeping you alive.” He turned to Cody and held up an index finger. “Water only. No food. I want her weak. Weak prisoners put up less of a fight.” Hung Jin looked again at Lauren. “If you’re lying, I will keep my promise. If you’re telling the truth...” His voice trailed off. “I guess you’ll have to chew on that one for a while.”

  He winked at her, then nodded at Cody, who began spritzing Lauren’s neck, shoulders, ankles, and chest with the spray bottle. The odor of the yellow liquid was rank and stung her nose.

  “What is that? What are you spraying on me?”

  Hung Jin placed the rodent on her left shoulder. Lauren tensed, the muscles in her neck bulging with fear. The rat sniffed at her hair, ran across to her other shoulder, then scuttled down the front of her blouse, using the ropes as steps. It stopped on her lap, next to the bread. Extending its paws, it grabbed the booty with its sharp claws and began to nibble.

  “It’s urine, Doctor. The rat’s own bodily fluids. We needed an incentive for them to stay around you.”

  “Them?” Her gaze moved from the rat to her captor’s gray eyes.

  Hung Jin turned and walked toward the door, followed by Cody. Hung Jin stopped in the doorway, hung the Colt from his right index finger, and looked at Lauren. “I’ll leave this here as a...reminder of times past.” He flipped open the chamber, removed the unspent round, and tossed the bullet into the far corner of the room. He winked at her, then laid the handgun on the floor, adjacent to the wall. Lauren knew exactly what he was doing: more mind games, more torture.