The Hunter Inside (30 page)

They were both
living
Shimasou
by now. There was no turning back from here.

Mayhew continued. ‘I mean, just look
at all the information we got to work with. We got a note…’ He counted each on
his fingers as he spoke, ‘…we got another target, Arnold. And we got no idea
where we’re going. Is three enough?’

‘Okay, maybe you’re right. We’ll stop
and talk it through. Try and see if we can work out where Sandy’s gone. I don’t
see how it’s possible though.’ He had a bad feeling that the next time he saw
Sandy Myers she would be a corpse. Things didn’t look good.

They took the corner that had
nearly cost them their lives earlier slower this time, and Mayhew pointed to a
turnoff that led into a roadside diner. ‘That’ll do won’t it?’

‘It’ll have to. We don’t have the time
to be fussy.’

‘Okay, okay. I know Sam. I wanna find
them as much as you do, you know?
So get off my fuckin’ back
.’

Mayhew’s sudden outburst made O’Neill
take notice. He hadn’t been trying to upset the old-timer. He’d just used the
first thing that came into his head to retort. He wasn’t used to people getting
angry with him. It was usually the other way around. They came to a stop in the
small lot. Mayhew got out and walked towards the diner. O’Neill watched him
until he got to the door, before getting out and going into the diner, ordering
two coffees, and seeking the least busy part of the diner, where he sat down.
Within a minute the young waitress, who worked alone but was hardly rushed off
her feet, came towards the table carrying a tray. She set down the items on it
efficiently, two steaming black coffees, two spoons, three small cartons of
cream, oh, and the bill. O’Neill thanked her before watching her walk back to
the counter, her tight jeans showing where her red and white apron ended.
Mmm
,
he thought, as Mayhew returned without casting a glance at the waitress.

‘I got you a coffee,’ O’Neill said. He
gestured towards the coffee with his eyes, a steaming olive branch extended
between them.

Mayhew smiled and put one hand on the
olive branch. ‘Thanks. Listen, I didn’t mean to shout just now.’

‘Forget it, Todd. It was my fault.’

Both men were ready to forget any
stupid squabbles, and with the most recent one behind them, they turned their
attention towards taking forward steps.

As Mayhew took a welcoming sip of his
coffee, it was O’Neill that began the conversation, listing the events so far
in chronological order. Mayhew studied his face as he spoke, trying to read
between the lines or see any patterns that may suggest something to him. When
O’Neill finished recounting their visit to the home of Melissa Dahlia, Mayhew
took over the conversation with a burning tongue.

‘This note, Sam. Maybe it tells us
more than just the existence of another target.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Come on Sam, you’re a Special Agent.’
O’Neill smiled ruefully. ‘It said
Arnold Carson Tick Tock
. Now, Carson
is Sandy’s maiden name, right?’

‘Yes.’ The penny hung precariously
balanced on the edge of Special Agent O’Neill’s forehead, ready to drop at any
moment.

‘Well, what if it put the names in
that order for a reason? Maybe it means it’s gonna take them in that order.
Arnold, then Carson, I mean, Myers. What do you think?’

Todd Mayhew’s voice had become raised;
such was his animation when explaining his theory. O’Neill looked towards the
waitress to see that she was looking over at their table. The few people seated
together at the other end of the diner were oblivious to their conversation.
They were more concerned with attracting the waitress’ attention, probably to
take advantage of the free coffee refill that the diner offered, and she rushed
towards them to attend to their needs. O’Neill watched her as she returned to
the counter and picked up the coffee pot. Maybe he wasn’t losing his intuition
after all. He retrained his gaze on Todd Mayhew once again.

‘Good theory, Todd. But it still
doesn’t take us any nearer to actually
finding
Arnold.’

‘I know. But when I saw Paul on the
night of his death, I felt as if there was something he wasn’t telling me. He
was certain that Shimasou was close, but I couldn’t see how. In hindsight I
realized it must have been watching him. All the time we were in Chee-Uz
talking, that thing was watching. But he knew it was close. Sam, I think he
knew more than he was supposed to. As much as Shimasou has psychic links to
their
minds, I think a little gets back.’

Special Agent O’Neill was interested
in Todd Mayhew’s theory.

‘I think Paul somehow had an insight
into
its
mind. Maybe not even so as he knew it, but I still think it was
there. If that was true then maybe, just maybe, the others have some kind of
insight into how it works too. It taunts them with the letters Sam. Do you
see?’ Mayhew didn’t wait for an answer before continuing,

‘It wants them to be afraid. If it
didn’t want them to be afraid then it would just walk up to them and kill them.
But it doesn’t. It toys with them. I’m learning all the time and I might be
wrong, but it really wouldn’t surprise me. Just suppose this Sam…’

O’Neill stared at the old man
intently.

‘If they can make a link back to
Shimasou, then maybe they can make a link to one another. I could be wrong, but
I think that if we find Sandy Myers, we might just find Arnold as well.’

Jeez, he might just be right. It might
just be crazy enough to be right
.

Mayhew looked at O’Neill, trying to
gauge his feelings through the studious look upon his face.

‘You really think so?’ O’Neill asked.
‘But where do we start?’

‘Let’s start driving first. We can
talk about it on the way.’

‘On the way where?’

‘Well, on the way out of here for a
start. This coffee’s gonna kill me if I drink any more.’ Mayhew grimaced as he
swallowed a mouthful of the treacle-like coffee. O’Neill did likewise, thinking
the same, and wondering how anyone could ever want a refill of this coffee,
free or not.

Both men rose and O’Neill settled the
bill before they exited the diner and got back into the car. O’Neill started
the engine and mumbled, ‘Next stop, Atlantic Beach.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Didn’t I tell you we were near
Atlantic Beach?’

‘No Sam. You didn’t.’ Mayhew
considered the news for a second. ‘That’s where she is Sam. That’s where both
of them are. They’re somewhere in Atlantic Beach. It wasn’t just toying with
them with the letters. It was luring them to it. It was luring them to Atlantic
Beach. Holy
shit
! I bet you a million dollars.’

‘You don’t have a million dollars,’
O’Neill replied, grinning in spite of himself.

‘Well, I’ll tell you what…I will have
when we find them and help them beat this thing. I’m gonna write a fuckin’
book.’

Both men laughed as O’Neill pulled
away from the parking lot and back onto the road. ‘Let’s just find them though
first, hey?’

‘How far away are we from Atlantic
Beach?’

‘About fifteen kilometers I think,’
O’Neill replied.

‘Shit, I’m starting to get nervous.
It’s not gonna last much longer, Sam. I can feel it in my bones. There’s gonna
be a showdown and we’ve gotta make sure we’re there when it happens. Or it
won’t be a showdown, it’ll be show over.’

‘We’ve still got to find them, if
you’re right.’

‘I’m sure I am Sam. Sure.’

O’Neill looked across at Mayhew momentarily.
When Mayhew looked back, he saw the determination in his eyes and trained his
own eyes back on the road. He was glad Mayhew was with him. He was proving as
good a Special Agent as Sam was himself, despite his inexperience, and he was
grateful that Mayhew would be on his side if there was to be a showdown with
this thing, even despite his age.

Silence ensued as the kilometers
passed, with both men thinking about what it would be like to face Shimasou in
a showdown. Clouds had begun to roll in, and O’Neill recognized that tonight
was not the night to be doing what he thought they probably
would
be
doing. A change in the weather would surely only hamper their efforts.

‘What’s that?’

‘What?’ O’Neill was a little startled
by Mayhew’s sudden question. Then he saw the car pulled off to the side of the
road in the distance. He couldn’t make out if it was the same car; Sandy Myers’
car, that was abandoned at the side of the road, as the clouds overhead meant
that the light was beginning to fade, despite it being only 4PM. But he put his
foot down anyway, desperate for it to be the little brown Toyota that they had
seen earlier.

As they got nearer the car both men
realized – it
was
Sandy’s car, all right. They’d found it. Now both men
knew that she must be nearby. It would surely only be a matter of time before
they found her.

Todd Mayhew felt a renewal of the
shaking that had gripped him when he had examined the file given to him by Paul
Wayans. He felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. They
were
close now.
And it was up to him, Todd Mayhew, and the cop, Sam O’Neill, to do something.

Something to save Arnold and Myers.

Something to save themselves.

Something to save us all.

A problem. Carson. The
incarnation of Shimasou saw her clearly inside its head. Carson, crouching,
half obscured by the tangle of bush in which she tried to conceal herself.
This
was not supposed to happen. She was not supposed to go to Arnold.

It had allowed her to see where Arnold
was in the dream. But the dream had been supposed to make her stay put. Now she
had changed the course of events. Arnold should come first. And the storm. What
effect would the storm have on the strength and ability of Shimasou?

Now there was a dilemma. What would be
the best way?
Stop her. Stop her from meeting Arnold.

Arnold was currently alone, more
concerned with the meat he had just eaten than the threat that was less than
three miles away from him.
Maybe there’s still time. Still time to stop her.

It was reluctant to venture out in the
storm. It would not be able to perform to the maximum of its abilities. Plus,
it was changing. Pain wracked its body as the growth and development continued.
If it stood, it would now be over twelve feet tall. But it could not stand, it
could not venture out, and it could not stop Carson from finding Arnold.

The woman had surprised it. Arnold was
like a lamb to the slaughter, waiting patiently while the huge figure lay in
the old Atlantic Beach Herald headquarters, preparing for the correct moment.
But
she
was different. By going to Arnold, she had thrown down a
challenge, caught it off guard. She was clinging to hope, the hope that she
would see her family again. Arnold had no family. Part of him was already dead,
and he had no hope left to cling to. Wayans had been the same. There had been a
black knot inside the mind of Paul Wayans that had caused problems for
Shimasou. It was the same knot that Arnold carried. But Carson was different.
There were no knots inside her mind. Only light. The light of hope.

A light that would have to be
extinguished.

The pain sat curled in a
ball in the knees of Sandy Myers, ready to strike when she stood. From her
position amidst the tangle of bush at the end of the block of motel rooms, she
looked up at the sky.

Earlier, it had appeared vast above
her, an unreachable ocean that opened out the atmosphere. The clouds had rolled
away across the sky, barely strong enough to support a sylph, suspended sand
dunes that carried no threat. Now, it was overcast. Dark clouds had rolled in,
their murky, puddle-like weight descending and hemming her in, the world
reduced to the moment she was in. The heavens were about to open, and Arnold
had still not appeared.

Sandy was scared. Scared that Arnold
was not going to return. The thing that was hunting them had left the note.
Sandy thought this
must
mean he was not going to be killed before
returning. But she had a strange feeling in her stomach that her brain couldn’t
quite work out.

Her resolve had been strengthened by
the dreams she’d had. She was more scared than ever, but she was not running
away. She was here to find Arnold and get closure to the whole ordeal, an
ordeal that had lasted ten years. An ordeal perpetrated by something that could
not be of this world. Sandy knew this – something that could speak to her
inside her head and take her on journeys in her dreams had a seriously high
strangeness rating. She wondered whether her determination, even
if
combined with that of Arnold, could come anywhere near the power of the beast
that had already killed so many people.

She was ready to find out. Tonight.

So here she is, crouching in the
tangle of bush, waiting for a man she’s never met to return from
god-knows-where.