Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (86 page)

Then there were the campgrounds. This area is a mecca for campers with its abundance of lakes. Hundreds in a hundred mile radius- and we visited them all. As we left to go to the next on the list, we always feared they were a step ahead or behind us- passing each other, never connecting.

It was three days ago when we got the horrific news that threatened our sense of patience and made us feel the urgency of the situation. This is bad… very, very, bad.

As we looked for Ray in Pennsylvania, he was still in the city with Ez- hunting. Ray took Cortez and Aaron from their beds, as he had Ezra. Going on instinct alone, Wil thinks that Ray is making his way here. He believes that Ray sees this as hom
e, and he will want to bring his boys home.

While we occupy
ourselves with needless, unnecessary searching to keep from going mad, Raymond is hurting them- I can feel it. The connection I have to Ez through our baby, the connection I had to Cort and Aaron through our friendship, is screaming in agony. Most of my morning sickness is brought about when I think about what could be happening to the three of them.

…and yet, the game goes on without us. Major plays are being made in my absence. As if they waited for me to be gone, so they could viciously fight without being policed. This angers me
, and makes me wonder if Raymond did this on his own, or someone else put him up to it. Maybe we couldn’t find him because someone was hiding him.

I was saddened to find out about the play this morning. Last night’s vote was elimination- a tr
ap. Even though it involved an elder, an heir, and an inductee, it still passed. It shouldn’t have passed… and it wouldn’t have, if I’d been there, and they knew that. There was no choice given to Grant, not even an impossible one, and the timeline was only forty-eight hours- not months. That sealed it- I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Raymond was a diversion to the real play. Whoever did it wanted me out of their way, worrying about the father of my child and my friends, as Wil worried about his partner. I will find out who did this, because they are hurting countless people with their actions.

The abduction:
Raymond Hunter
Ezra Zeitler
Cortez Abernathy
Aaron Frost
…and any victims that got in there path.

The play:
Grant Whittenhower
Cora Whittenhower
A pregnant Regina Regal
Daniel Whittenhower I and II and III
The entire Whittenhower family.

By process of elimination: The Fontaine.
Henry Spencer is too spineless to have pulled this off, but he will eagerly follow his lifelong friend. Pierre pulled a three-point play. I will give him props because he flawlessly pulled it off without a hitch. Everything he did was within the bounds of the game. Rape and torture his grandson- the future heir to The Fontaine and The Marconi. That makes those two families upset and confused, and not voting worth a damn. Have The Meyers’ enforcer steal the Holden heir and the future Hunter enforcer. That eliminates the Game Master and the other Meyers’ enforcer as they search. It also makes The Meyers not think clearly without her support system. With me gone, Stanton is upset. The vote was about Grant, so he couldn’t vote. Fate would have been upset about it all. The vote passed… and Cora Whittenhower is marked for death at her husband’s hand.

“Pull over,” I cry out. The car barely st
ops before I scurry out, land on all fours, and throw up the water I drank moments ago. I retch, and it has nothing to do with morning sickness, and everything to do with the sickness of the game- the sickness that spreads because of the likes of Pierre Fontaine. I’d hoped by removing the poisonous head that the rest of the body would shrivel up and die. But Pierre is more resilient than that, and he makes Henry more resilient. This was the biggest maneuver of Pierre’s life, and I bet his riding a high like no other.

“I’m okay,” I say to Wil as I crawl back into the car. “It wasn’t the baby. I just keep thinking about everything
… Today…” I sniffle and hate it.

“Today is what, Pixy?” Wil asks, handing me another napkin before he continues on into town.

“Today is Ezra’s eighteenth birthday,” I whisper.

~Chapter Seventy-Five~

We hadn’t been back to the lodge in almost eighteen hours. Since I was sick several times over, Wil took me back to our room to shower and rest for an hour. No such luck on the hunt. No ominous vans parked in the parking lot when we entered or exited.

Feeling more relaxed and rested, I decided food was next on my list. After our meal, the hunt is back on. Wil did as he said he would, ordered subs and is headed towards the trail head.

“This will give us some much needed peace,” Wil says, slightly smiling. “I know you’re on doctor’s orders about stress. But this is even getting to me- constant driving, no sleep, shit food, no rest or the ability to just breathe. It’s worse on you because of who we’re looking for and what’s going on at home. I want you to know that I understand, and at some point, you can say,
Wil, take my ass home
, and I will.”

“I don’t give up that easily,” I murmur,
concentrating on unscrewing the cap on my caffeine-free cola. My tummy lets out a big rumble as I eye the
Subway
bag.

“I know, and that’s what I love about you,” Wil seriously says. I get lost in the tone of his voice and that one disastrous word he just uttered.

“Faith,” that word, from Wil’s mouth, puts me on instant alert. Wil never calls me by my birth name unless there is trouble. I’m either Pixy or Cynthia to Wil. He also refuses to call me Syn. Since I’m not in trouble, there must be trouble nearby.

“Over there,” Wil says in utter disbelieve. I follow the length of his arm and look where he is pointing.

“Holy mother,” I breathe.

“You get our kits, and I’ll call Agent Donnelly. I spoke to them while you were showering. They are in our area, following a lead.”

“I guess that lead was real,” I murmur, refusing to take my eyes off the gray van- Raymond Hunter’s van. I blink just to make sure it doesn’t disappear.

I slip from the car and go around to the trunk. Wil’s voice flows to me as he rapidly speaks to the FBI agent in charge of the case. When three high profile teenagers go missing you get the FBI. I guess it’s whether or not you have a trust fund that makes the difference. Trust fund: FBI. No trust fund: the boys in blue.

I slip our orange canvas kits over my shoulder- the duffle bags are filled with the essentials of lifesaving. I know how to use every object in the bag. It’s primitive lifesaving, but we are on a hiking trail right now. The boys are going to need a therapist, not my med-kit. But I don’t go anywhere without mine. I’d carry it as a purse if it didn’t weigh twenty plus pounds… and I never carry a purse- I don’t even own one.

Standing at the apex, I
look left, and then right. I glance up at the beautiful, blue sky with its happy, puffy clouds, and then down at the cindered ground. Finally my eyes seek the rippling water of the crystalline lake. Up, down, and forward are out. But left or right is more complicated. Left takes you up a hill, and is two miles of heavily-wooded trail until you reach the camping area. Right is a straight stretch that runs along the old railroad bed for several miles, before it changes over to paths cut through fields and woodlands, and then it changes over again to an old, grown-over road from decades ago. Finally, it meets the end of the lake, where it loops over to another old, abandoned road on the other side of the lake. Choices… and if I choose wrong, it could be life or death.

I close my eyes and clear my head of everything but instinct. I go with my gut, and head right, down the miles and miles of trail that surrounds the lake. A voice inside of me says that there is more to hunt that direction, and I don’
t mean me hunting the Hunter. I mean more for the Hunter and young Hunters to hunt. If you are going to catch Raymond, you have to think like Raymond- which is very difficult, since I don’t know how many Raymonds are dwelling inside his head.

I go on without Wil. The few inches he has on me in height, makes his stride larger. He’ll catch up in no time as soon as he gets off the phone. Walking this trail once per day for the last six days makes me an expert. But carr
ying not one but two med-kits is taking its toll on my body.

I pause and listen as I reach the portion of the trail that is directly across from the recreation area. A bluff overlooks the water, with a bench to rest on. I take advantage of the seat as I nurse a bottle of water. The happy shouts and giggles of the children in the cordoned off swimming area makes me smile. I can only see them as specks in the water as they swim around and play. Knowing that somewhere on this trail, Ezra, Cortez, and Aaron are being hurt, kills me.

I want to run down the trail, searching and screaming out their names. But exhausting myself will do no good. I need to stalk Raymond, not give him advance notice that I’m coming. With my luck, they could be ten miles on the other side of the lake, near those innocent children happily swimming.

With a deep sigh, I venture on. If I were here for another purpose, I would love this area- it feels just like where I grew up. The scent of pine and oak and maple filling my nostrils with its fragrance is comforting. The sound of woodland creatures scurrying in the brush and up the tree trunks puts a smile on my face. The repetitive lap of the water soothes me. I understand why Ray chose this area to l
ive. With the chaos in his mind never giving him peace on the inside, he needed peace on the outside.

“
Tell the FBI that we’re all clear from the trailhead at the four mile mark. If they are en route, send them to the two mile mark. I will be there within a half hour,”
I say when I call Wil from my Sat phone. “Where are you?”

“I’ll catch up with you in about five minutes. How are you holding up? Drop my med-kit, I’ll pick it up on my way by. That’s too much weight you’re hauling.”

“You sure? I don’t like leaving it lying around.”

“Where is this someone coming from? They would have to materialize between us,” Wil says with a chuckle. “Drop. The. Bag,” he says with amusement.

“Dropped,” I reply, dropping the bag like it’s deadweight. I don’t even stop moving to do it. Just slid it off my shoulder and kept walking.

“I want to spank you, Pixy,” Wil laughs into the phone. “You literally dropped
my bag, didn’t you?”

“You know it,” I sarcastically say. “You told me to, and I am very literal.”

“Bitch,” his hiss flows into a snicker. “I’m hanging up to call Agent Donnelly. I see my bag in the distance and no one is hovered over it scavenging the miles of gauze and my stethoscope,” Wil teases. 

“Bastard,” I snort.

“You know it,” he says with a laugh. “Over and out-”

“Wil, wait,” my voice comes out thready and weak when movement catches my eye. “Oh my God!” I break into a dead run before I can think.

“Pixy? Pixy! PIIIXXYYY!” Wil’s voice gets more urgent every time he says my name, but I can’t answer. The tall, lithe form of a fifteen-year-old boy is like a mirage. His blond hair glows in the sunlight in contrast to the dark of the woods. Cortez’s shoulder is visible from around the trunk of a tree.

“Aaron,” I hiss,
landing on my knees in front of him. Shaking the boy, I say, “look at me. Aaron, it’s Faith. C’mon, look at me.” Slowly his eyelids raise, and I wish I didn’t see the torment glowing from his light blue eyes.

“Chickadee,” Cort croaks out. His hand reaches out towards me. “What are you doing here, not that I’m not happy to see you?”

I listen, but my hands and eyes are quickly assessing their bodies. No injuries… but the look in their eyes. I never wanted to see that look on anyone, let alone Aaron. He is the sweetest kid I’ve ever met- funny, loyal, and kind. His blue eyes are haunted. Cort- Cort looks like death warmed over.

“Ez,” my voice comes out strangled, eyes sweeping the area for Ez and his father. “Where are they?”

“Ez should be with us soon. After he…” Cort stumbles over the words, causing Aaron to crawl away and throw up. The sound echoes around the woods, and then the smell hits- I smell alcohol in his vomit. “After he does what Ray wanted him to do to that poor girl… he’s... We were gonna run away after he met us here. But you’re here, so… Oh, no… Faith, leave! If Ray sees you, he’ll hurt you,” Cort says in a panic, his limp hands try to push me away. 

“Ray ain’t doing shit to me, Cort. Trust me on that. Now
, where are they?” I hiss, because it’s either that, or scream.

Wil sliding up to us like a man stealing home plate, makes Aaron scramble
away to hide behind a thick tree trunk. Seeing a young boy hide from the person that is here to save his life is the saddest thing.

“Hey,” Wil calmly says, like a man talking to an injured animal. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he coaxes. “I’m a paramedic. I just need to see that you’re okay… may I?” Wil asks before he touches.