Run (The Hunted) Page 2

  He’s still in shock and fights the affects, knowing it is slowing him down, keeping him stupid, forcing him to react instead of doing what he needs to do to survive. He thanks his father silently in the dark for teaching him how to handle himself in the woods.

  To a point. Good old Dad never mentioned being kidnapped, dumped and hunted in the wilderness survival boot camp he made Reid run through for two weeks every summer. It had been fun, then. This is most definitely nothing like that.

  Still, his father’s levelheaded nature wins through and shakes Reid into some kind of calm. Enough he is able to work some things out.

  I need answers. But first, I need to find out where I am and if I can get away.

  It isn’t much of a plan, but it makes him feel a little better. Just the idea of acting settles his mind and helps him focus. Reid turns and looks up at the moon. First thing’s first. Bearings and direction. If he can figure out which way is north, he will at least be able to pick a goal and follow it consistently. Lost In The Woods 101. Basics, really. Stuff he’s known most of his life. But at the moment, those basics are the only lifeline he has to cling to. Not for the last time, Reid whispers another thank you to his dead father.

  His eyes register a flicker in the trees across the path. It’s only the barest of movements, but it freaks him out and forces him deeper into the surrounding forest. Reid struggles for calm. He needs to focus. Everything that happens from now on is important and if he doesn’t keep it together, he will die. The kid with the empty gut and the rotting entrails convinced him of that.

  The flicker gets closer. Just a brief shadow passing, something darker than night moving through the trees, weaving in and out of sight. At times it disappears for so long Reid is sure it’s his imagination until it shows up again. He holds his breath and eases himself low to the ground, ignoring the scratches he gets from the underbrush and the risk of poison oak or ivy, keeping to the full shadows. Every movement crushes needles, stirs the dirt at his feet, filling his nose with the smell of the forest. He does his best to be silent. After all, it could be an animal. Tons of big cats and even bears in these woods, he’s sure. He desperately tries to remember what his father told him about surviving animal attacks, all the while trying to convince himself it must be some sort of carnivorous predator looking for dinner.

  For some reason, he’s pretty sure it isn’t.

  When the flickering shadow emerges from the darkness and sets foot on the path, Reid softly exhales through his mouth in a combination of fear and relief. Not an animal then. A man, dressed all in black. Reid half wishes it was some kind of wild creature. On the other hand, if it were, he might have a harder time. A bear or a mountain lion could take him out with little chance of defending himself. There is hope he might escape from a man.

  Reid watches the dark figure glide silently down the path, everything about him screaming predator and he suddenly wonders if he’s right to think there is any escape from this enemy. The hunter’s clothing is tight to his body, right down to a full hood that covers his head but leaves his pale face exposed. Reid doesn’t see any weapons. He knows that means little. Besides, it’s not the man’s attire that freaks Reid out the most. It’s the way he moves. Every motion is so fluid Reid shudders. There is no way a man can move like that, not even the best-trained commando. There is an unnaturalness to it, more animal than human, but even beyond what a skulking cat could pull off.

  Reid’s panic takes him over for a heartbeat, screaming at him to get away. The man is a monster, has to be, something out of a horror novel or a scary movie, a creature that only looks like a man. Reid spends the next ten seconds being wrenched back and forth between his terror and his need to understand. He finally manages to wrestle himself back under control just as the hunter comes to a halt across from him.

  Every cell in Reid’s body demands he run, and now. He holds himself in check, his father’s patient voice telling him over and over, never run from a predator. Always best to hide or play dead. Although supposedly making loud noises would do the trick as well, but somehow Reid doesn’t think that will do him any good. The idea is so ludicrous he almost giggles from the stress. His skin vibrates with the agony of keeping still.

  He has to tell himself over and over that this is just a man. Nothing special. Just very well trained. He has no way of knowing if he can outrun this hunter and hiding seems his best choice. Playing dead will only end with him being dead. Hiding is it. But his instincts are on fire and he desperately needs to put distance between them any way he can.

  Sweat forms on Reid’s upper lip, tricking down the corner of his mouth. Not thinking about it, he licks it away, eyes never leaving the man on the path. The dark head cocks to the side as Reid’s tongue moves over his skin, as though hearing the near silent swipe of flesh on flesh. Reid freezes and holds his breath. No way. There is no way the man heard him. And yet, the dark figure turns further toward him and lifts his head. Reid hears snuffling. Impossible. Crazy. But it’s the only explanation.

  The man is searching for him by smell.

  For a moment an irrational thought crosses Reid’s mind as he crouches there in the darkness, watching the hunter come closer and closer. What if this man can help him? Reid is running only because of the boy he found. What if this man wasn’t involved but is here to save him? Reid has no idea what is going on. Maybe if he cries out he will be saved. He catches himself as his weight shifts forward unbidden, his frantic mind searching for the logic in what is happening to him. He holds himself still and quiet again, battling his terror while he resists wiping the sweat from his face.

  He’ll hear me.

  How, Reid hasn’t a clue. But he knows it is true. And when the man’s face turns toward the bushes where Reid hides, when he freezes on the path and focuses on Reid crouching in the shadows, though there is no way he should be able to spot anything in the heavy black, Reid is grateful he stilled that impulse.

  This man is deadly. There is no question of that, no doubt. Trusting this man would be like handing himself over to the devil. For all Reid knows, that’s exactly who the hunter is. And he is hunting. Everything about him yells it out loud despite his body’s silence. There is no mistake, no misunderstanding.

  And he knows Reid is there.

  Run. He needs to run. But he is trapped in the underbrush. He can feel the prickle of thorns, the tug of the branches around him, as though the very forest has turned against him and will serve him up as a sacrifice to the hunter. Reid knows he might be able to escape deeper into the trees, but without light to see by he will most likely fall in his flight and be caught. He stays frozen, new indecision tearing him in half. He is unable to act as the man takes one sliding step closer, then another. It’s like the battle between flight and terror cannot be won and Reid is caught in the middle with certain death only a breath away.

  His heart is about to burst from it, he is certain. He needn’t wait for the hunter to catch him. His own body might kill him first. But even while he thinks it, Reid is also sure of one more thing. If the man catches him, Reid will die. And no one will ever know.

  Something starts out of the bushes further down the path. The sound is so sudden and loud in the stillness, Reid has to clamp both hands over his mouth to keep from crying out. His eyes immediately go to the source, expecting a deer or maybe a fox. Instead, he spots a skinny figure staggering onto the trail. It’s a boy, about the same age as the other, the dead one on the tree. He stills like a terrified rabbit, face turned back toward Reid for a second before he tries to run.

  He is clearly terrified.

  Where the hell did he come from? Reid’s mind can’t keep up. No so the hunter. The man is in liquid motion without hesitation, prey in hand before the boy is able to take a step.

  “Please!” The kid’s voice is high-pitched and catches at the end. “Please!” Reid can see him between the man’s legs, sneakers beating useless time against the ground, small fists thumping against the hunter’s chest
, his struggles ignored. His face is just visible in the moonlight. He looks like he’s dead already, skin ghostly pale where it isn’t streaked with filth, eyes sunken pits of black in the dark. “Don’t kill me, please!”

  The man says something. At least, Reid thinks so. It sounds partway between words and a chuckle. But the hunter can’t be laughing. Can’t be. Not while his arm lifts, hand raising high above his head, his intent obvious. There is nothing funny about the way he holds his body, how he clutches the boy so tightly there is no escape. The edge of a knife shines silver in the moonlight.

  Reid knows what is coming. Feels his own guts wrench in sympathy and fear as he remembers the coils of intestine, the black, gaping hole in the abdomen of another boy. It can’t happen again, not here, not now. And if it does, he can’t be there to watch.

  Reid tries to hold back but his self-preservation is somehow overridden by his need to save the kid. He yells, surges forward, tries to get to them but he is too late as the knife descends with startling speed.

  The boy screams, his cry driving Reid’s panic to take over control of his mind. As the shriek ends abruptly, sighing to an endless gurgle, Reid spins and bolts down the path, instinct finally winning over valor, the sound of the strange boy’s death urging him on.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  Reid’s mind repeats a mantra as he runs. This can’t be happening. This. Can’t. Be. Happening. It won’t stop running as much as his body won’t stop, driving itself into his psyche over and over again as his legs piston up and down, sneakers pounding over the trail. And yet, he knows it is as real as the rocks and fallen leaves sliding under his racing feet, as the moon shining down on him, and the pine-scented wind forcing itself in and out of his aching lungs.

  A headlong sprawl forces him to stop. His knees are suddenly on fire, palms aching from the impact, mouth clogged with decaying leaves and dirt. Reid spits out the mess, rolling over on his side. Whimpering in terror, he drags himself into the trees again and scans the path behind for signs of the hunter. Nothing. No one. Not even a hint of movement. Reid doesn’t trust his eyes. Or any of his other senses. How can he when the one who pursues him moves like liquid lightning, as silent as the wind? Whoever the man is, he looks normal on the outside but instinctually feels like a wild animal, only better. Smarter. Able to reason and react with human instinct and cunning. Reid has no doubt the hunter can and will find him and attack without warning.

  He can’t think about the boy. Either of the boys, for that matter. They haunt him, but he needs to think of himself. Reid slams that reality into his consciousness until he really believes it. There are others like him out here. He has no way of knowing how many. And they are dying, just like he will die if he doesn’t get the hell out of there somehow.

  He still feels responsible. And guilty. The first boy gapes at him in his mind while the second one screams, “Please!” in an endless cry for help. It’s almost enough to drive him mad.

  Instead, he decides to run. But when he tries to go on, his body refuses to move. Both legs give out on him, his ankles throbbing from the fall. Reid is unable to run for the moment. He hugs himself in the dark, knees to his chest, making himself as small as possible while he fights off the horrors he witnessed. He manages to quiet the panting protests being torn from his throat and rocks back and forth on his haunches while his gaze scans the path and the trees around him over and over again in a never-ending cycle of fear, guilt and shame.

  He should have saved that kid. He could have. If he had just moved faster, been smarter. This shouldn’t be happening. Why is it happening?

  That leads his aching head down a fresh path. How did he get here? Memory flickers over the past at last, taking him to the time before he was kidnapped. Before he was dropped in hell. He is relieved to let go of the death cries and the accusing stare of the dead boy’s eyes.

  Reid is able to recall the day before and cling to it. Or was it the day before? His concept of time is lost in the face of what is happening to him.

  Lucy. The restaurant, so fancy he felt like an intruder in his jeans and hoodie. Her choice and her treat. She acted like she owned the place and no one said a word. They celebrated. He remembers. She finally managed to get him out of foster care. A whole year he spent after the tragic deaths of their parents, living in someone else’s house, at the mercy of the state, while his twenty-year-old sister struggled to get her own life together.

  He honestly never thought she would, was positive he would be in state care until he was eighteen. Not only that, Reid was sure she forgot him until the very day she came to pick him up. He was so shocked when his foster mother called him downstairs, to see Lucy standing there at the door, holding the paperwork that set him free. The smile on her face reminded him why he loved her. All his resentment disappeared. She looked good, smelled good when she hugged him, body thinner than he remembered, her blonde hair much lighter than his tickling his face as she squeezed him so hard he choked.

  He didn’t care. He hugged her back. And took in her new life. Her car was expensive, her clothes designer, hair and makeup flawless. She looked like a model. Or a famous actress.

  “We’re set up now, baby brother.” She smiled at him past her big, dark sunglasses and patted his knee as he settled his hastily packed bag in the back seat of her black convertible, the combination of new car smell and freshly dyed leather making him nauseated. “Found a good job, a great boss. Set up.”

  He hadn’t asked her why she didn’t contact him that long year they were apart. Why she didn’t call, write, email. It didn’t matter. They were together.

  Reid swipes at a thin tear tracing down his cheek. He doesn’t have time to feel sorry for himself. Lucy. Where is his sister?

  “Mr. Syracuse,” Lucy said as she pulled up to their new building. It looked expensive. “Mr. Syracuse,” she repeated as she led Reid onto the well-appointed elevator that streamed soft muzak at him. “Mr. Syracuse,” Lucy whispered as she smiled at him and unlocked the door to their apartment. “He’s great, Reid. You’ll like him. He’s got big plans for me. And he can’t wait to meet you.”

  The place was posh, plush. She loved showing him around. Nice furniture, great kitchen, a bathroom Mom would have died for. And his room was huge, stocked full of clothes, too. He had his own TV, a brand new iPad. How did she get so lucky? This was way better than anything they had when their parents were alive.

  He wanted to ask the cost of it all, what the real price was beyond the money it took to buy, but that was the natural cynic in him. His father’s influence. Still, he wondered if his sister got herself in over her head. But he was too happy to be with her to go there just yet.

  Is this the price? Reid’s terror is suddenly not just for himself. His sister. She has to be out here too, somewhere. There is no way she will survive without him. Reid’s panic is so strong it drives him to his feet again. His mind races. He has to find her. She’s all he has, he’s all she has. He refuses to lose her again.

  But as he spins in place and his mind desperately searches around as though he’ll find her right there with him, his heart cracks down the middle. He has no way of finding her. She could be dying right now at the hands of the hunter and there is nothing Reid can do to stop it. He hates the feeling of being worthless. He had enough of that in foster care, shuffled from one house to the next, treated like he was an inconvenience at best, a burden and a waste of skin at worst. His father taught him better than that, to respect himself, and he clung to that the whole year he waited for Lucy to come get him.

  Standing there, desperate to find his sister, Reid feels his will crumple at last as it never has before. There are no options. He is lost and alone with a man out there hunting him and kids like him. Reid has no doubt if Lucy comes in contact with the hunter, she won’t last a moment.

  He slams one hand into the closest tree and swears softly. The pain is enough to bring him to his senses.

  I need a plan. Easier though
t of than done. Still. It is something to focus on and he needs that very much right now. Reid resumes his crouch, finding the darkest shadow he can as his mind searches for a way out.

  It triggers another memory.

  He had been in bed, the comfortable mattress a far cry from the lumpy, musty things he’d spent the past year sleeping in. Funny how every foster home had the same kind of bed. He was stuffed with good food and a beer his sister let him drink. Lucy even tucked him in, he remembers it clearly. She smiled down at him, kissed his forehead just like Mom used to. Told him she loved him.

  So what the hell happened? He was sleeping. The door slammed open in the dark, the whole apartment deep as pitch. Reid struggled, remembers fighting, but there were large shadows in the night, stronger than him and something fell on his face, pressed to his nose and mouth. It stank. He sank into quiet to the sound of Lucy screaming.

  Reid shudders and pulls himself from the memory, the pit of his stomach rolling over slowly once. It is true, then. She is out there with him. This Syracuse she mentioned, he has to be in on it. Sold them to some sicko maybe? Some freak who hunts people for fun. Reid’s anger surges and for a moment it gives him power. But it isn’t as strong as his fear. It has only enough energy to drive him to his feet one last time.

  He has to find his sister. She was always the weak one, the brittle flower, just like their mother. At least, that was what Dad always said and Reid believed him at the time. Nothing Lucy did up until now gave him reason to doubt either. And Dad would want Reid to find her and keep her safe if possible. Even though he was years younger, Reid always looked out for her as best he could.