The Hunter Inside

by David McGowan

  You’ve got to make it, she thought to herself, willing her remaining strength to get her through this test and carry her to Sean and David. They were relying on her. Maybe they could see her when they closed their eyes. Sandy allowed her own eyelids to close momentarily. She could not see them, not any more. What she saw was the storm, beating down in front of her, emptying the dark clouds above and threatening to overwhelm the landscape around. She wondered if Atlantic Beach had ever experienced a storm like this one as she looked up the wooden steps in front of her. The thunder of earlier was now a constant growl, emanating from above her and making her bones vibrate.

  The hole began after the third step, and Sandy estimated that four or five of the wooden steps were missing, scattered below and experiencing the spinning wind, struggling to get a grip and remain still, in the same way that she had struggled to keep a grip a moment before as she had felt blood trickling down over her wrist.

  If she could get across the hole she thought that the remaining part of the staircase would probably hold. The wooden strut that held it looked pretty solid, stretching down to the floor below, and directly behind the hole was a window, empty of glass like the ones on the front of the building, that she could grip the ledge of, maybe even sit on and shuffle across. Then she wouldn’t have to risk the floor collapsing under her weight if the struts were riddled with termites. She would be one obstacle away from her boys.

  One obstacle away from Shimasou.

  The sound of the wind howled through the building, the creaking of the stairs as they swayed testing the struts that remained intact. Rain, straight rain, poured through the hole in the roof, the wind pushing and swirling and reaching for Sandy as she edged out over the first two stairs towards the hole in front of her. She gripped the ledge of the window next to the hole, using her left hand due to the pain that pulsed through her right.

  Be strong, she told herself. There’s not far. Not far to go now. Come on. You can do this, Sandy.

  She slid her left foot across the edge of the hole, attempting to reach a position from where she would be able to sit on the concrete ledge and skate across, away from the danger of the hole in the stairs in front of her.

  Suddenly, the floor beneath her creaked loudly, and the first few steps fell away as the strut that held them collapsed, sending debris crashing to the floor below. Sandy threw herself across the window ledge, bent in two, and found herself hanging out of the window headfirst, clinging on with both hands despite the pain in her right hand, which matched the strength of the rain that now began to sting her cheeks again. She gasped, winded from her sudden meeting with the thick concrete ledge, the wet, cold stone against her midriff.

  Behind her, she knew that the floor had gone. She also knew that there was not enough room to turn around while holding onto the ledge, so she edged across on her stomach until she felt her left foot scrape against the rough, broken splinters that began the landing on which she hoped she would be safe from falling if she could get across the final two stairs.

  Sandy bit her lip as she released her left hand from its grip on the slippery ledge. Using her right hand to support herself was dicey, but it was the only way she would be able to see what she was doing with her left hand, and it was the only way of getting off the ledge and moving closer to Sean and David.

  She was halfway there, and she was determined that nothing would stop her. The challenge of the building, she knew, was nothing compared to the challenge of Shimasou, but her desire was to first of all see the boys. She needed to know that they were all right. Then, she knew, she could fight it.

  For her boys, she could fight it. She doesn’t know where the others are. Her husband is one of those others, but she thinks solely about the two boys. The two boys are everything. Reaching them is the only thing she wants to do. The only thing she has to do. She has to reach them.

  Shimasou continued to watch.

  Sandy gripped the edge of the top stair and placed her knee on the wood carefully, testing it with her weight. It held, and she pushed with her right hand, screaming out in pain as she again threw herself forward onto the landing, half expecting it to give under her sudden weight. It didn’t, and she rolled away from the edge of the stairs. She paused, lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling directly above her. Two more flights of stairs stood between her and reaching the boys, and as she looked towards the top, she saw that this was the most dangerous part of her climb.

  Looking out towards the roof of the building she saw that it was only twenty feet above her. That meant that there was maybe thirty feet below her, and the staircase had another large hole at the top that was very near to the strut holding it in place. She would have to get halfway up the stairs in front of her and then pull herself up onto the flight of stairs above to get past this difficulty, and even then the strut could give way and send her crashing to almost certain death.

  The wind at the top of the building was much stronger, and Sandy rested for a moment, closing her eyes. Nothing but the storm a couple of feet away from her. Then the voice whispered again. Arnold. She knew what it meant: when she closed her eyes she was seeing where Bill Arnold was. The storm so close must mean that he’s in a car, she thought. They must be coming, but they can’t see through the storm.

  She stood, placing one hand against the wall at the side of her for support. The walls were slick, slimy almost, and when she had steeled herself against the gusts of wind that seemed to mock her stability, she began her first tentative moves towards getting into position to reach up and grab the stairs above. She knelt and crawled, on her hands and knees, out over the first two steps. Her breath was rapid, and she felt pain throughout her body, from the pain in her right palm, to the ache stabbing her right knee. Through a dull throb that niggled at her back, up to her neck, stiff with the chill of the wind, and back down through her left side, her muscles almost ready to seize up and leave her in agony with cramp. To her head, woozy with the influence of Shimasou and aching with the cold she had begun to develop due to the storm.

  But she carried on. For her boys, she carried on. Even as her head whirled with what seemed to be half a dozen voices that included those of her parents, she reached forwards, towards the hole above her. Towards her life.

  Even as the floor began to creak loudly ahead of her and she heard the wooden strut that held up the stairs begin to crack and disintegrate, she reached up. She reached up not with strength, but with love. Her strength was gone, and now it was love that must carry her through.

  Sandy screamed as the floor below collapsed, holding onto the stairs above her with one hand as she listened to the sound of floor falling onto floor, each in turn giving way as she clung onto the thought of reaching her boys. She closed her eyes tightly, grinding her teeth as she tried desperately to reach up with her wounded right hand, towards the remaining stairs. The rest of them were gone, she knew that. They had collapsed with a roar and a rumble, and she did not have to look down to know that she was now hanging forty feet above the wreckage of the staircase. But she held on. With love she held on. Her right hand found its grip and she hung, fifteen feet away from life, forty feet away from death.

  *

  It was almost complete, and now nothing would be able to overcome its strength. It stood and looked over the edge of the ledge at Sandy Carson, desperately hanging on, looking down at the struts that jutted out of the debris below. She was right where the huge figure wanted her to be. She was in the palm of its huge hand. Her light could be extinguished, allowing its light to grow brighter. Soon the light of Shimasou would be bright enough to dazzle the whole world. Then the darkness would be released, and Shimasou would be complete.

  And there is nothing that her ball of hope can do, not any more. Soon there will be no love, only darkness. Darkness and my strength. My strength and my being unleashed on the minds of the weak and the strong.

  No, a voice whispered back. It was her, defiant even as she hung, helpless. Waiting for death.r />
  You are too late, Sandy Carson. I will succeed and you will bow. Everyone will bow before me.

  I will beat you. We will beat you. For my sons and for the world, we will beat you.

  You don’t know how, Sandy Carson. You don’t know how to beat me.

  We know, and we will beat you.

  From below came a piercing cry. Joe Myers looked up at his wife, hanging by her fingertips.

  Sandy did not answer her husband’s exclamation. She knew that any movement might send her tumbling to her death, and she continued to grip tightly to the edge of the devastated staircase, low creaks mimicking the wind that populated the building. She squeezed her eyes even tighter, sending tears rolling down her face, dropping to the rubble below, undetectable in the swirling rain.

  Joe Myers stood, looking up at his wife as she hung, so close to death, and so far out of his reach. Tears began to roll down his face. The children must be up there too, he thought, and put his hands together.

  He looked around the building, shielding his eyes as he did so. It was almost completely destroyed. Paper and dust swirled around a huge mound of debris, and rain came through a hole in the roof, soaking the four men as they stood, open-mouthed, staring up at Sandy.

  Joe wondered if now was the time to pray. He wondered how any god could allow somebody to be in that situation and not give them a helping hand. They were good people. A loving family. But they had been shattered by Shimasou. Joe Myers knew that things would probably never be the same again, and they still had to get through this. It was a situation that he never imagined himself being in, and the presence of a killer, coupled with the condition of the building, sent him into shock. He still wanted to protect his wife and his family, but he knew there was no way in the world that he would be able to get to them now. So he stood, looking up and shielding his eyes, willing Sandy to hang on and wondering how they were going to get them down when all of this was finally over.

  There’s just no way, no way at all, Special Agent Sam O’Neill thought as he estimated that Sandy must be thirty-five feet from the ground. She’s going to fall, and I can’t help her. An image of the bathroom in the motel room fleeted through his mind. Sandy, cowering against the bathtub with her head down, hugging her knees with both hands. Then, he had been hopeful. They had found her, and he could at least try and do something to help her. He had wanted to hug her then, and he wished that he could reach up now and take her away from the danger that she was in.

  The rubble in front of the four men would almost certainly be fatal to her if she was to fall, and he couldn’t see her doing anything else but fall. With the power of the wind and the cold that must be gnawing through her fingers, plus the rain making her hold slippery, Special Agent O’Neill became Sam O’Neill. There’s nothing I can do, he thought despairingly.

  It’s time, a voice whispered inside the head of Bill Arnold. Time for what? he wondered. He stood next to Todd Mayhew, behind O’Neill and Joe Myers, just over the threshold of the building. Maybe it should be me up there, he thought to himself. Guilt found its place inside his head, despite the voices that had begun to crowd in. His head felt woozy, and he wished that he could sit down. There was only cold, wet rubble to sit on though, and as he tried to usher the voices away, he wondered how Sandy could hang on to the wet, splintered edges of the only floor that remained partly intact. He also wondered for how long it would remain intact. He could not see Shimasou from where he stood, but the fact that Sandy was up there must mean that it was up there too.

  The kids must be up there, he thought, and wondered how much the combined weight of the three people was, plus Shimasou itself. Two struts were left, holding the remnants of the stairs intact, and he figured that they were not going to stay intact under the strain of the storm and the weight of the people relying on them for life.

  ‘Sandy, are you okay?’ Todd Mayhew called out. The others only watched like they were part of a virtual reality game, and Mayhew was not prepared to do the same. They knew how to beat Shimasou, now they just had to do it. The piece of paper with the order in which the victims had been taken was in his trouser pocket, and he withdrew it.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Sandy called. She had found a decent grip on the wood above her, and while she was terrified that calling out would make her move and put extra strain on the unsteady stairs, she wanted something to happen. She could see the shadows of the four men below her, and realized that it was Mayhew who had called out. He had told her earlier that they knew how to beat Shimasou, and now she was ready to hear what he had to say. He would have to be quick; she knew she was close to Shimasou, and in her current position she was defenseless if it could reach her.

  ‘We have to evoke Shimasae to beat this thing,’ Mayhew called out as he opened the small piece of paper. He was glad that he had not given it to O’Neill to look after; they probably wouldn’t have it now if he had. O’Neill looked more like a statue than a cop, and the others were not much different. Bill Arnold looked dazed to Mayhew, and he shook him gently to get his attention before he continued.

  ‘You’ve got to repeat the names of the people it’s killed and evoke Shimasae to take their strength away from Shimasou. Then it should unravel.’

  O’Neill had left his gun in his car. It didn’t matter, Mayhew knew; there was only one way to beat Shimasou, and now was the time to try it. It was their only chance.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Mayhew asked Bill Arnold.

  ‘I’m ready. We gotta do something. We can’t just leave her hanging there. And the kids…’ He felt tired, drained, but he was determined that he would do his bit to try and help Sandy. It was him she had sought out in her time of crisis and, while it had only been hours ago, it seemed a lifetime away as he shifted his gaze from Mayhew’s face to Joe Myers’ face. A contortion of emotion was set there and his eyes pleaded with Bill Arnold’s. Do something, they said, and Bill Arnold looked up at Sandy again. I will. We will.

  ‘Sandy, are you ready?’ Todd Mayhew called out.

  ‘I’m ready,’ Sandy said, barely audible to the four darkened figures below.

  O’Neill and Joe Myers looked on, mere spectators in a situation that would decide the fate of everybody on the planet. Both men were acutely aware of their helplessness, and both men hated it. Joe Myers wanted to scale the dangerously sagging wall that led to Sandy’s position, but he knew the whole building would probably collapse if he tried to make it to his wife. He had to rely on others, and what if they were unsuccessful? What would happen then? O’Neill hated depending on others to sort things out for him, and now was no exception. He did the only thing available to him and placed a hand on the shoulder of Joe Myers, drawing him back out of the way of Todd Mayhew and Bill Arnold, who stepped forward.

  They stumbled across the rubble in front of them, holding onto each other for balance, until they were almost directly below the place where Sandy hung. Todd Mayhew wanted to make sure she could hear him. He did not know what would happen when they began to evoke Shimasae, but he knew he was about to find out. Shimasou must only be feet away from Sandy, and if it reached her, it would kill her. That was something Mayhew was certain of. Maybe the unsteady floor was stopping it from getting to her, and if that was the case, then they did have a chance.

  ‘Sandy, I’ll tell you what names you need to say, and you need to add the word Shimasae to the end of each. You and Bill will go in turn. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  *

  Something strange was happening. Shimasou tried to step forwards. The floor lurched under the shifting weight, and Sandy screamed as her grip was shaken. The huge figure stepped back, behind the two children. What was happening? Both Sandy and Bill had newfound hope, but where had they gotten it? They believed they had a chance of winning this fight, but Shimasou knew something different. It knew its destiny, and it was only a matter of time before its potential was fully realized. How could anyone beat it now?

  ‘Sandy, first you must say the name of yo
ur mother,’ Todd Mayhew called to Sandy. They would have to be quick; the floor above looked ready to collapse and the storm was not letting up. It would be hard for Sandy, he knew. But he thought she would be able to do it when she weighed her pain against her desire to save her children.

  He was right.

  As both Mayhew and Arnold looked up towards the hole in the roof, they heard Sandy’s voice as she said ‘Betty Carson Shimasae’.

  Immediately the storm seemed to strengthen. Rain poured in like never before, and Joe Myers thought of the great flood in the Bible. Special Agent O’Neill knew it was going to take more than building an ark to get out of this situation, and he was also pretty sure that faith was not going to carry anybody through.

  A streak of lightning came down inside the building, hitting the twisted rubble and starting a fire that made Arnold and Mayhew step back. Even the floods of rain could not stop the fire, and it began to reach up to Sandy, thirty feet above it. Sandy clung on tighter, actually relieved at the warmth of the fire, which brought some feeling back to her hands and fingertips. All inside the building were deafened temporarily by the crack of the lightning, Shimasou included, who wondered why the cold was beginning to have such an effect. Part of it had gone. She had said her mother’s name and part of it had been taken away. How can this be? It wondered. How can they take from me?

  ‘Fred Carson Shimasae,’ Bill Arnold called out. A second bolt of lightning came down, striking the building, and the wall began to crumble, allowing the roof to sag further. Sandy clutched the wood tighter as the wind strengthened. It blew so strong that it took her breath away and she thought it would prize her grip off the unsteady staircase. After a moment it seemed to shift, and she thought that maybe it pushed her up slightly, helping her to maintain her grip.

  ‘June Riley, Sandy,’ Todd Mayhew called out.