The Hunter Inside (28 page)

‘Okay, it’s just up here on
the left.’ Todd Mayhew studied a large map that he struggled to hold open due
to its width being greater than his own wingspan. They had already gotten lost
once and had been forced to stop to buy the map, and Mayhew’s knowledge that
he’d been the guilty party made him determined not to get it wrong again.

The tension in the air would not allow
for too many incidents of a nature anything like the few minutes when they had
been traveling in the wrong direction. Both men grew more tetchy and nervous as
the minutes passed, and O’Neill cast a sideward glance at Mayhew before saying
deliberately, ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I’m sure. Turn here,’ Mayhew
motioned with his hand, letting the map fall into his lap as he did so, and
O’Neill followed his directions. The corner was a blind one, and O’Neill was in
such a hurry that he took it a little too fast. Coming in the opposite
direction was another car, a beat up old Toyota that was also in violation of
the speed limit.

For a split second both men thought
they were going to die, as O’Neill slammed his foot on the brake and wrenched
the wheel, swerving off the road, narrowly avoiding the oncoming vehicle, and
ending up in a valley of thick dust that was sunk a foot below the level of the
road.

O’Neill cursed and jumped out of the
vehicle, stepping back onto the road gesticulating with his hands in the
direction of the car, which carried on as if nothing had happened, disappearing
in less than a couple of seconds around the blind corner that had almost cost
all of them their lives.

Mayhew leaned across and looked out
the door O’Neill had left swinging in his wake. ‘Sam, come on. We don’t have
the time for this. Get back in the car.’

Knowing that the other car was already
long gone and unlikely to turn around, O’Neill stepped back through the thick
dust, gaining a rim of orange-brown coating around his expensive Italian shoes
as he got back into the car and pulled back onto the road.

‘Follow this road until you come to a
junction and then turn right,’ Mayhew said, taking control of the situation,
and the ridiculously oversized map, in an attempt to bolster the flagging
spirits of the big Special Agent. ‘We’re less than one mile away, Sam.’

O’Neill drove onwards in the direction
Mayhew had pointed. He remained silent, seething with a combination of rage,
fear and desperation. It seemed to him that while they were so intent on saving
the world, the world was intent on placing obstacles before them. He was glad
Mayhew was there to get him through the emotions that he himself must be
feeling, and he admired the way in which he was able to keep them in check.

Mayhew squinted out the passenger side
window, trying to locate a street sign, as they turned right into a road
containing small, detached houses. They were picture perfect, placed
equidistantly from one another with small, neat gardens. All were cared for
with great affection by their owners. Large, colorful plants and flowers
adorned the borders of each neatly trimmed, lush green lawn. The houses
themselves were equally well cared for; painted in light pastels that
accentuated the beauty of the color in the garden and provided a tasteful
backdrop.

‘This is it. We’re here.’

‘This place?’ O’Neill was surprised
that this quiet and peaceful place had been touched by something as dark and
sinister as Shimasou. There were no signs that anything was wrong or out of
place.

‘Stop here.’

O’Neill applied the brakes, coming to
a complete stop about fifteen feet further down the road from where Mayhew had
indicated.

‘That’s it.’ He pointed towards one of
the houses, and both men sat observing it for a moment before O’Neill broke the
silence.

‘You might as well come with me, Todd.
You know as much as I do, and you may spot something I miss.’ His admiration
for Mayhew had grown considerably as he had spent more time with him, and he
was disappointed to receive a cold stare in return, as Mayhew misunderstood his
intent and took offence at the insinuation that he may
not
be going with
Special Agent O’Neill.

Both men got out of the car and walked
down the pathway in tandem, Mayhew bringing up the rear. O’Neill walked faster
than the old man, fearing the possibility of another crime scene and hoping
that Mayhew did not misunderstand his intentions for a second time.

He didn’t. He allowed O’Neill to take
the lead. His knees knocked as he walked behind the Special Agent, and he
didn’t want O’Neill to see his fear. Upon reaching the door of the house
O’Neill turned to look at Mayhew. ‘Just let me do the talking, okay?’

Mayhew glared at the cop once more.
O’Neill turned and rang the doorbell without showing any recognition that he’d
noticed the anger in the stare, and Mayhew decided to let this one go. Both
stood silently, listening for footsteps from inside the house.

Silence.

O’Neill extended his hand to ring the
bell for a second time.

‘Who’s there?’ The voice that came
from inside held a frightened tone that was unmistakable.

‘Sandy, is that you? I’m from the FBI.
We know what’s going on. We’ve come to help you beat this thing.’

The door opened, and O’Neill realized
instantly that this was not the woman whose face he had seen on the database
printout. It must be Melissa.

‘You’re too late,’ Melissa said. She
struggled to hold back tears as she spoke the words for a second time, ‘Too
late. She’s gone.’

The repetition stung O’Neill. He felt
it had taken them too long to get to Jones Beach. Maybe if they hadn’t gotten
lost they would have reached her in time. Maybe if they hadn’t had to stop to
buy the stupid map. But there was no time for recriminations.

‘Do you know where she’s gone?’ His
voice contained a note of panic. Mayhew stepped out from behind him. ‘Does she
have any other friends in the area?’

O’Neill looked at Mayhew, then at
Melissa.

‘No, I don’t know where she could have
gone. All I know is that she came yesterday and told me she was run down. She
didn’t bring any clothes and she was nervous about something. Woke up screaming
in the middle of the night and frightened me half to death. When I got home
from work she was gone. Taken off.’

The two men looked at each other. Both
could see the other’s disappointment and both wondered what they would do next.

Melissa Dahlia continued, ‘She left
this’, before holding out a piece of paper. ‘I don’t know what it means. Maybe
you can tell me?’

O’Neill took the folded paper from her
extended hand and opened it. Both Mayhew and Melissa watched him as he looked
at it, neither able to make out what he was thinking from his expression.

It was obvious to O’Neill what the
note implied. Sandy’s time was running out. But it was the other name on the
note, Arnold, which made him think. It was safe to assume that it was the work
of Shimasou. Its similarity to the notes that had been described to him was
compelling. This was one of Shimasou’s calling cards. But the other name?
Another target?

This was actually good news to
O’Neill. It gave him a lead, something to work with, and it tempered the
feeling of disappointment that had arisen when he had been told of Sandy’s
departure.

‘What does it say, Sam?’ Mayhew was
impatient to see whatever it was that had made O’Neill so thoughtful. O’Neill
held out the piece of paper for inspection, and Mayhew held one corner while he
examined its contents. ‘Shit, who’s Arnold?’

Melissa countered before O’Neill could
answer. ‘Maybe you can fill me in on what’s going on here? What’s happened to
my friend?’ They seemed more bothered about the other name on the paper, at
least, the older man did.

It was O’Neill who answered. ‘Listen,
I’m sorry but we don’t have time to explain. We need to find them because they
could be in danger. The time it would take for me to explain to you could mean
the difference between life and death for them.’

It would be difficult to find either
of them though. While they had come close to finding Sandy they could be miles
away from Arnold, and Shimasou could be heading towards him. They had to get
moving again.

‘Can you tell me what kind of car she
was driving?’

‘Yeah, it was a Toyota, dark brown,
pretty old.’

O’Neill looked at Todd Mayhew. Todd
Mayhew looked at O’Neill.

‘We’ve got to go,’ Mayhew said, and
both men turned and walked briskly away from Melissa towards O’Neill’s car.

‘Wait, what about me?’ Melissa called
out after them as they got into the car. She didn’t receive a reply and the car
drove away, quickly reaching the end of the road and turning out of Melissa’s
sight.

O’Neill punched the
dashboard of the car in frustration. ‘Fuck, I can’t believe it. I had an idea
we mightn’t get here in time, but I didn’t expect her to run us off the road on
the way. Why didn’t we follow her, Todd?’

‘We couldn’t have known it was her,
Sam. We might have been wasting our time on a drunk-driver.’

‘We wouldn’t have been wasting our
time at all though.’ O’Neill gripped the wheel tightly, the veins in his hands
bulging under his skin.

‘Yeah, I know. But you can’t beat
yourself up over it.’

‘What d’you mean, I can’t beat myself
up over it? This fucking thing could be beating
her
up Todd. And
we
saw her. We should have realized.
I
should have realized. What are we
gonna do now? How are we gonna find her?’

Mayhew noted the anxiety and level of
stress that was apparent in his expression and tone before replying. ‘We’re
just gonna
have
to find her. Come on, at least we know which direction
she was headed. That must be a help, mustn’t it?’ Mayhew was clutching at
straws and he knew it. But he also knew that they couldn’t, and wouldn’t, give
up. He felt they had a big part to play.

‘That doesn’t mean shit, and you know
it. She could drive north and west straight through New Jersey and on to god
knows where. How are we supposed to find the killer when we can’t find the
targets?’

‘We can’t give up. We’ve gotta help
these people if we want to help ourselves. They’re not far Sam, we’ll find
them.’ Mayhew accepted the task of injecting the spirit back into O’Neill with
newfound strength of his own. The cop nodded and both men fell silent,
continuing onwards toward their date with the destiny of the planet.

*

Back inside the house,
Melissa Dahlia decided to call Joe Myers. He was the only one who may be able
to shed any light on what was happening. When Sandy had spoken to him earlier,
she had said something about being in danger. Now, she thought he deserved to
know that his wife was missing.

She found Sandy’s number in her little
blue address book, and recreated it on the pad of the cordless phone. It rang
once, before Joe Myers snatched it up seventy kilometers away.

‘Hello.’ The anxiousness in his voice
made the end of the word seem almost to come at the beginning; such was the
speed of its delivery.

‘Joe. Hi, it’s Melissa.’

‘Melissa. Is everything okay? What’s
happened?’ His words continued to overlap as he tried unsuccessfully to keep
his composure.

‘No…I don’t know Joe. She’s not here.
She was gone when I came home from work. Then two cops came and told me her
life is in danger. What’s going on Joe? Why is Sandy in danger?’

‘Listen Melissa.’ Joe’s mind was made
up. ‘Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming to Jones Beach. I’ll tell you what I know
when I get there.’ The line went dead and Melissa stood, shocked and confused,
holding the cordless in her hand for a full thirty seconds before placing it
back on the stand without hearing the double beep that signified it was now on
charge.

All she could do now was wait. Maybe
Joe would be able to help when he arrived. Maybe the cops would find Sandy
first.

Melissa began to pray for her friend.
If the police were so anxious to find her then it really
must
be
serious. She decided she would not make any judgments about what was going on.
She would wait for Joe to arrive and see what he had to say.

Things were never what you expected.

*

The walk around the lake
had left Bill Arnold feeling a lot more comfortable. It had also left him
ravenous. The steak house that he had seen on his way to the lake was harder to
find on his way back, and dark clouds had begun to gather in the sky as he
finally pushed through the door of Steer’s Steak House.

He stepped into a large and
very tastefully decorated dining room. He estimated about forty tables – each
with oak chairs upholstered in dark green leather. To one end of the dining
room hung ceiling to floor chartreuse curtains. On the walls were ribboned
wreaths of flowers, and mirrors that reflected the light and made the room feel
even bigger.

Catching sight of himself
in one of the mirrors, he almost turned and walked out of Steer’s.