Hunter (9780698158504) Read online

  Nigel said, “This is bull! Why do you have to leave? What’s out there for you that’s better than what we have here?”

  “The past. There’s unfinished business. That’s all I can say.”

  “You’re going to visit, though?” Tina asked.

  “I really don’t know if that’ll be possible. I’ll try.”

  From behind Lance, a voice shouted, “You’re leaving!?”

  He turned to see Kevin approaching, wrapped in a blanket over a dressing gown, with one of his cats in his arms.

  “Seriously, you’re quitting?”

  “Sorry,” Lance said. “But yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

  “Right. Well. You’re not gone yet. The light fixture in my camper is faulty. If you’re not too busy getting all sentimental, you can take a look at it.” He turned away, stopped, and looked back. “Now would be a good time.”

  To the others, Lance said, “Guess he’s right. The show must go on.”

  He followed Kevin into his camper—which entailed the usual awkwardness of trying to get in without the cats getting out—and pulled a screwdriver from his pocket. “Which light is it?”

  “The lights are fine,” Kevin said. “I just . . . I can’t say what I need to say in front of other people.”

  “OK.”

  “Hunter, you’ve helped me more than you could ever know. I love you, man. Not like that. Like a brother.” Kevin set the cat down on the floor, then wiped at his eyes with the corner of his blanket. “But I understand. When you have to go, you have to go. All good things, right?” He smiled. “I guess that whatever’s out there for you, it won’t be nearly as strange as everything you’ve had to put up with here.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Lance reached down toward one of the cats, the black-and-white shorthair, and picked him up. The cat squirmed in his arms for a second, then settled down. “I’m going to miss these little guys. I’ve never seen anyone who can make cats do what you can. You should have your own TV show, you know? Or, you know what, you could set yourself up as a cat-wrangler in Hollywood. You’d make a fortune.”

  “What, and give up show business?” Kevin laughed. “Look, we’ve been working on a new trick.” He put his arms out in front of him, side by side, palms up. “Balthazar? Up!”

  One of the Persian cats leaped from the floor right into Kevin’s hands.

  “I’ve seen that one before,” Lance said.

  “No, that’s not it. Balthazar . . . Handstand!”

  The white-haired cat mewed once, then kicked up his hind legs so that he was standing upright on his front paws on Kevin’s left hand.

  “Pretty neat, huh?” Kevin asked. “He can stay like that for nearly a whole minute.”

  “That’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of cool stuff.” Lance lowered the black-and-white cat to the floor. “I’ll see you before I go, Kevin. But in case I don’t get the chance . . .” He offered his hand, and Kevin shook it. “It’s been good knowing you.”

  “Yeah, you too, Hunter. Thanks. I won’t forget you.”

  You might be better off if you do, Lance thought.

  THAT EVENING AT THE CARNIVAL it was business as usual, though the cold weather meant that numbers were down. Lance ate his last evening meal with the clowns—they insisted—and tried not to keep looking over at Josie, then went back to work. He ran the Hook-A-Duck stall for a couple of hours, until one of the other runners took over.

  At the end of the night, when the last of the punters had gone, he went back to the trailer he shared with Masatoshi, where the knife thrower was watching his tiny portable TV set.

  “So. Last day.”

  “Yeah,” Lance said as he dropped onto his bed. “How did your show go?”

  “Fine. Listen, what time are you leaving tomorrow?”

  “Early. There’s a car coming at about seven.”

  “Better pack, then.”

  “Not much to pack. I’m not taking the books—they’re yours if you want them. I don’t really have anything else.”

  “Yeah, the hoarder gene never took hold for you, did it? Last guy I shared with filled the whole place with his junk.” Masatoshi rolled to his feet. “Anyway. You’re not done yet. Come on, get up. You’ve got one last task.”

  Lance yawned. “What’s that?”

  “Your secret farewell party that I’m not telling you about. We’re all meeting in the big tent and we’re all going to get good and drunk, except you and Nigel. Better practice your surprised look.”

  • • •

  At one o’clock in the morning, while the party was still raging, Lance announced that he was going to bed. “I have to be up at six thirty,” he told Jerry. “That’s only five and a half hours’ sleep!”

  “Ah, you’re young. You’ll be fine.” Jerry used his foot to tap the leg of the empty chair next to him. “Sit down for a few minutes.”

  At two o’clock, and two fifteen, and two thirty, Lance announced that this time he really was going to bed.

  It was a few minutes after three before he finally stepped out of the tent into the freezing night air, with the party still going on behind him.

  He knew he’d be gone before most of the others were awake, but he resisted the urge to turn back and say another round of good-byes.

  He passed Morty’s caravan and saw that the light was still on. He knocked softly on the door.

  Morty’s gruff voice said, “It’s open.”

  Lance pushed open the door, and quickly stepped through and shut it behind him. Morty was sitting at his small desk. There was an open bottle of whiskey and two glasses in front of him. “You passed the test.”

  “What test is that?” Lance asked.

  “The test of whether you’re a decent man. Some folk’d see the light on but not want to come in, not after what I said.” He looked down at the desk for a moment. “I didn’t mean it, kid.”

  “I know that.”

  Morty reached out for the bottle. “You’ll have a drink with me, then?”

  “No. But thanks. You go ahead.”

  He put away the bottle and glasses. “At this hour? Are you nuts? I gotta be up early tomorrow. Gonna be a lot more work around here with you gone.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Better hit the sack, kid. And good luck with the rest of your life. Make it count.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks, Morty.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t be a stranger, all right?”

  • • •

  Lance opened the door to the caravan he shared with Masatoshi, and saw that Josie was sitting up in his bed, waiting for him. She was wearing red silk pajamas, and her dressing gown was draped over the chair.

  “This is our last chance,” Josie said. “If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

  “Josie, I can’t.”

  “Because of her. Because of Abby.”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes her so special, Hunter? What? You haven’t seen her in years, and you know she’s not interested in you anyway. So what is it? Does she have, like, magic boobs or something?”

  Despite the situation, Lance laughed at that. “No. Well, I don’t know. Last time we saw each other we were only fourteen.”

  “And you’re saving yourself for her even though you know it’s never going to happen. You’re insane.”

  Lance sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like that.”

  “What is it like?”

  “We had . . . a bond of war, I suppose you could call it. The five of us saved the world. Well, there were a few others there too, like Max and Paragon. But they were all older.”

  “The five of you? You only mentioned three others earlier. Who was the fifth one?”

  “Brawn.”

  “The giant blue guy?”

 
“Yeah. He was only two years older than me and Abby, but everyone assumed he was an adult because of his size. He was sixteen, the same age as Thunder. Roz was fifteen, I think.”

  “Roz Dalton? Max’s sister?”

  Lance nodded.

  “I’ve seen photos of her. She’s very good-looking.”

  “I guess. But me and Thunder—and Brawn too, I think—were interested in Abby.”

  Lance felt the flesh on his arms begin to creep. No . . . He shuddered. No way . . .

  He remembered the first day he moved into Max’s apartment in Manhattan. Max gave him a tour of the place and told him to stay out of Roz’s room. “You lay one hand on my sister and you’ll spend the rest of your life thinking that your eyes are being eaten out by spiders.”

  He couldn’t have, Lance thought. Aloud, though it was barely a whisper, he said, “He did. That despicable, devious son of a . . .” Louder, through gritted teeth. “I am going to kill him!”

  Josie pulled the blankets tighter. “Hunter . . .”

  Lance jumped to his feet. “Max did this to me! He didn’t want me anywhere near Roz, so he made me fixate on Abby! And I bet he did the same to Brawn and Thunder. . . . I’m going to strangle him with my bare hands!” Lance realized that he was shaking, that his fists were clenched so tight, his nails were cutting into his palms.

  He forced himself to calm down, taking long, deep breaths, then turned to face Josie.

  “I am so sorry. He messed with my mind, made it so that I couldn’t even imagine a relationship with anyone else but Abby.” He stopped. “No. It’s my fault too. There was no way Max could reverse what he did to me because I wasn’t there.”

  Josie said, “But now that you know that . . . ?”

  Lance closed his eyes and tried to picture Abigail de Luyando. He could remember her face, how she talked and laughed, the ferocity and skill with which she fought. But that was all. Before, when he thought of her, his heart ached so much, he was sure it would burst. Now, he still missed her, but no more than he missed the others.

  Max doesn’t have complete control over me, he said to himself. Same thing happened back in Manhattan, when Roz and I listened to Casey Duval’s tape. As soon as I heard the truth, Max’s artificial memories started to break down.

  He used the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m so sorry. We could have . . . I wasn’t able to see you because my feelings for Abby were always in the way. But that was all a lie, and now it’s too late.”

  Josie pulled back the blankets and climbed out of the bed. She stood in front of him and looked up into his eyes. “It’s not too late. Not completely. We might never see each other again, but we have a few hours before your car gets here. We’d be fools not to make the most of them.”

  • • •

  At six forty-five, Lance closed the door of the caravan behind him. Josie was finally sleeping, and he didn’t want to wake her.

  He hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders, pulled on his wool hat, and began to walk through the darkness toward the gate of the field to wait for the car.

  It was only when he reached the gate that he realized someone was already there.

  The old woman was wearing two heavy coats and a blanket pulled around her shoulders. “You’ve been avoiding me, Hunter,” Mary-May said.

  “I know. Sorry.”

  “He’s come back for you.”

  “Yeah. Is this what you saw that time when you looked into my future?”

  Mary-May shrugged. “I don’t know what I saw. I told you then, there are multiple paths ahead for you. A lot of crossroads. You’re at one now. You don’t have to go with him.”

  “I do. One of my old friends is in danger.”

  “And you’re the only one who can save her?”

  “I never said it was a girl. But, yeah, apparently I am.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. Give me your hand.” She began to remove her gloves.

  Lance said, “I don’t know if this is a good idea right now.”

  “Why? Because you’re embarrassed that you and Josie have spent the past few hours rocking the caravan? Everyone knows, Lance. I mean Hunter. Why do you think your Japanese friend didn’t come back after the party?” She smiled. “The young deserve to have their fun. You especially. You’ve been hiding from yourself for a long time, carrying a lot of weight.” She grabbed his hand. “Now, let me see if we can get a look at what lies ahead for . . .”

  Mary-May let go of his hand and stepped back. “Oh my . . .”

  “What? What is it?”

  “Oh, Lance. That poor girl.”

  “Josie?”

  “No. The one you’re going to try to save. The black girl.”

  “Try to save? You mean, I’m going to fail?”

  “I can’t be sure. . . . But I think so. I’m sorry. She will fall.”

  “No. No, she won’t. I’ll be there for her. I’ll save her.”

  In the distance, headlights were approaching.

  “Mary-May . . . What else can you tell me?”

  “All the paths ahead of you . . . All the decisions you’ll have to make . . . They really are like roads, in many respects. Because you might take some wrong turns, you might become lost for a time, but in the end, if you know your destination and you keep striving to reach it, if you never give up, you’ll get there.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means keep your eye on the target, Lance. Never lose sight of what you’re doing. If you’re not careful, the roads ahead are going to lead you into darkness.”

  “Come with me,” Lance said. “If I have someone like you to guide me . . .”

  She reached out and squeezed his arm. “Oh, you don’t need me. And I’ll be dead within a year, anyway.”

  “What!? Are you sure?”

  “I’ve known that since I was a child. It doesn’t frighten me. Everyone dies, Lance. Everyone. For me, it’ll be almost painless, and I’m thankful for that. I’ve made my peace with the world.”

  The headlights had almost reached them, and Mary-May squeezed Lance’s arm once more, then stepped back through the gate. “I wish you luck, young man. You’re on a great journey. A far greater journey than you realize. And if you succeed, the world . . . Well, they’ll never know what you’ve done. But they don’t need to know.”

  The large, dark car stopped a few feet away, and in the glare of its headlights Lance saw Mary-May’s warm smile for the last time.

  “Go on, Lance. Your friend is waiting for you.”

  He watched her disappear back into the dark field, then looked back toward Masatoshi’s caravan, where he pictured Josie still sleeping. He wondered whether he would ever see any of them again.

  Then he opened the passenger-side door of the waiting car and climbed in. “All right. Let’s go.”

  The driver said, “What? You’re not even going to say hello?”

  Lance turned, and saw Solomon Cord grinning back at him.

  FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS, Lance found his eyes welling with tears. “Oh man . . .”

  Cord put the car into gear and began to drive. “So. Dalton tracked you down and you’re back working for him again.”

  “Sol . . .”

  “After what you did, it’s Mr. Cord to you.” Then he grinned again. “Kidding. You had us worried, though. Lance, why didn’t you come to me? You knew how to find me. You didn’t have to take off on your own. You were only fourteen—anything could have happened to you! Do you have any concept of how completely stupid that was?”

  “I had to get away from Max and anyone else he knew.”

  “I don’t like him either, but he is one of the good guys.”

  “Or so he wants everyone to believe. And he’s got the power to make us believe anything he wants. You know that, Sol.”


  “Sure, he can do that. Doesn’t mean that he does. He’s never done it to me.”

  “How would you know?”

  “It doesn’t work on me. He . . .” Cord paused. “Huh. Yeah, I get your point. How would I know? He could have done it a thousand times and just made me forget.” Cord stared at the road ahead in silence for a while, then asked, “So, you’ve been working with a carnival? What’s that like?”

  “Hard work, not very comfortable, but a lot more satisfying than you might think. What about you? What have you been doing the past few years? I don’t get to see the newspapers much, or TV, but I did catch a few reports.”

  “I’ve been busy. It’s going to be good to have you back again. Though Max says you won’t be working with the old team.”

  “We were hardly a team,” Lance said. “We were only together for a couple of months. It’s probably just as well I won’t be with them, though. Just a few hours ago I realized something pretty bad.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You remember how nuts I was about Abby?”

  “Oh yeah. You and James both. And Brawn too, I think.”

  “Max did that. To keep us from lusting after Roz, he made us focus on Abby. But he never turned that off, for me. I’ve been obsessed with her ever since.”

  Cord let out a long, slow whistle. “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah. As soon as I realized what he’d done, the feelings faded. Same as when he messes with my memory. Once I become aware of it, it stops working.”

  “He made your memories of what happened to your family less painful, didn’t he? You’ve always been aware of that.”

  “But I wanted him to do that.” Lance looked out the side window, toward the lightening horizon. “Abby said you had a thing for her sister. Vienna, right? Anything happen there?”

  “Oh yeah. We’re engaged,” Cord said.

  “Congratulations! I can’t remember—does Vienna know about you being a superhero?”

  “She does now, yeah. And she knows about Abby too. She’s . . . Well, I wouldn’t say she’s cool with it, but she accepts it. Or she says she does, but she keeps giving me that look whenever I have to go off on a mission. The one that says, ‘You better come back alive and in one piece or you are in big trouble, mister!’” Cord smiled again.