Hunters: A Trilogy (88 page)

The boy on the top bunk smiled weakly down at them, then turned onto his side and shut his eyes. In the half-light of the curtain-shrouded room they all noticed one thing – the similarity of the boy to the other Mike, the departed Mister MJW, was striking. In many ways the resemblances were almost too painful to endure. Jane looked at Ken and he saw that her eyes had filled with tears.

They had turned and left the room, all except for Red, he stayed for a while.

‘Just to make sure that he is gonna be okay…’ he murmured.

Michael had slept for more than twenty-four hours. The women were concerned and took it in turns to peek in on him. Jane was so worried that she’d made Ken call the old man on the Communicator. George had assured them that all was in order, smiling down at their shiny, concerned faces – the screen’s blue light reflecting their fears.

He said, ‘Do not worry, my dears! He has suffered rather a rough time of late, but his mind is clear and his body is sound, he merely needs to sleep this off for a short time, please do not be concerned!’

George, as was usual, turned out to be perfectly correct.

The next day the boy had risen from his bed without further commotion, almost as though his recent traumatic past had never happened. With a smile and only the one question: ‘Anything to eat around here? I’m starving!’ Michael Wildeman entered into their lives.

The majority of his time was spent learning of the truth. Tori took many an hour in teaching not only Michael, but also Junior and her husband, Red. She showed them the wonderful tale of who they were, where they came from and what it was they were destined to do. With the help of Ken’s silver computer, which had resumed its full working capacity, Tori walked them through the garden of their life…the jungle of their history…let them reach up to pick the fruits of their previous labour, taste the nectar of their family’s dreadful sacrifice – a bite that at times was almost too bitter-sweet to swallow.

Her tale was interspersed with the mind-melting slide-shows and film clips the liquid screen portrayed as it hung shimmering above the kitchen table. The efficient way in which she provided their education was wonderful to behold. Ken and Jane would often sit behind and join in the lessons, just for the hell of it.

After all, it was a pretty damned interesting story.

Tori’s soft tones soothed the burning tale, her tinkling laughter making some of the terrible happenings much easier to comprehend. From the saga of their history, the spreading of their kind and the ‘sowings’, to the first awareness of the Darkness – all were shown to them by Tori in a masterful display of knowledge, insight, and some plain old-fashioned, good teaching skills. She fielded all of their questions with ease, eyes glowing with the passion of her belief, the passion of her life.

Many times they were shown the outcome of terrible things the Demon had done; distant planets thrown into abject chaos, several of them nothing more than burnt out husks, left like trash in the wake of the Dark One’s giggling departure. There were at least two that were now nothing but supernovae, only the beautiful clouds of dust and microns remained in witness to what were once flowering worlds, their final, striking self-destruction standing in almost eternal contrast to the terrible fate the fingers of his meddling interference had caused.

Throughout the aeons of unfathomable time they had fought the black mist, chased him – it – from one end of the stars to the other. Sometimes winning and sometimes losing, but never, ever giving up. They themselves had lost many people along the way, lost in the form of the present, only to be reborn into the future, the past, or maybe into some parallel right next door.

‘Your use of the mirror analogy was a very good one, Jane, by the way,’ Tori said as she looked over her shoulder and smiled. Jane nodded back and gave Ken a look out of the corner of her eye. Turning back to the others, Tori said, ‘In addition to our family, we have on many an occasion had to enlist the help of people such as our dear friends who sit behind us in quiet magnificence.’ She turned once again to Ken and Jane, saying: ‘Without people such as you, we would be lost, and of that you must be perfectly clear! I know at times it must feel as though you are outsiders, but only in as much as some of this is merely a blood-tie, family strife, so to speak.’

Ken nodded, saying: ‘It’s all okay, Tori, we know that and we’ve never felt like outsiders, there’s just some stuff we don’t need to know, that we probably wouldn’t understand anyway; there is a limit, I guess?’ He laughed, saying: ‘No, it’s fine – we’re cool with everything, just glad to help is all.’

She looked at him, and said, ‘You have done more than just help, Kenneth, much more than merely help. ‘Help’ is not what my family consider your sacrifices to have been, you and Jane have been absolutely fundamental to our cause. One day we hope to repay you, one day when all of this is over, over and done!’ She flashed those lightning-bolt eyes at them.

Then, almost as though her conversation with Ken and Jane was a prompt, Tori turned back to the others. ‘Eventually we followed the Dragon to a little planet in sector 32-A…’ she said, and then proceeded to describe in detail about the Rip and the ancient ones, explaining all about the Egyptians and many more races before and after them.

The screen showed the history of Earth, the good and the bad, all was laid bare. The influence of their enemy was as plain to see in the dictators and other scheming tyrants, as it was in the eyes of the mindless murderers, terrorists, corrupt bankers and sick priests.

Tori used Maggie’s words and once more Ken and Jane heard that fateful phrase. ‘There is a little piece of the Demon in all of us, he has a far-reaching influence.’ It wasn’t a question.

She pointed at the screen and they watched the images of war, Hyenas, money and blood as they filled its shimmering surface once more. ‘Your world held many interesting playthings for the Dark One to amuse himself with, so many little games to be enjoyed. It has spent an inordinately long time interfering with Earth. At first we thought it was because of the amount of evil there was here, perhaps your race had plenty of room to spare for such a master of despair…’ They looked at her in silence.

‘But,’ she said, ‘we have come to learn the opposite, we now believe that it is the amount of goodness within the hearts of the people here, the vast majority have only decency and kindness in their souls, and it is this that entrances the Demon. He sees it as a challenge and he can’t stop himself. He is obsessed by the game, addicted to the endeavour, one of turning you all into his clones. He wants to impart himself into each and every one of you!’

Michael spoke quietly. ‘You mean we’re our own worst enemies?’ he said, glancing around at his fellow trainee-Hunters.

Tori looked at him with a smile. ‘Yes, that is a very good way of putting it, Mikey, very good!’ she said. ‘Yes, if you would all just stop being so decent and simply let the blackness fill-up your lives then, yes, I think he would just have gone about his travels and left you all to your own self-destruction!’ She laughed in sarcastic agreement, winked at Ken and Jane, and continued.

Her words led them through the twists and turns of their past, their present, and of their futures, all the parallels in which they had trodden and would tread. Behind her soft voice, they began to feel the final chapters gradually circling above them; sitting in the kitchen with the sun streaming through the windows, they felt the vultures of their fate gathering. Tori began to tell them of the final, most recent chapter, the one in which Michael’s father was the lead character. It wasn’t a long chapter, not by any means, but it was an important one – very important. It was, after all, precisely why they were here.

‘Your father was a Hunter, Mikey. Yes, Jack Wildeman was
the
Hunter!’ Tori looked at Michael and grinned, saying: ‘Of all the people who achieved success in tracking the Demon, following it and confronting its filthy shadow, Jack was pre-eminent. The cleverest and most experienced of us all, he was the best by far, and I don’t tell you this to make you feel better about your loss. No, your father was something else, entirely something else! With his help we have managed to destroy thousands of pieces of the Dragon!’

She went on to explain that each piece they destroyed had somehow weakened the entity; as long as they managed to trap its blackness, usually within the body of its latest possession, then that part of its evil would be snuffed out. ‘There are only so many parts to everything, and even the greatest things within existence have only a finite amount of pieces,’ she said. ‘However, we were somewhat slow on the uptake and we massively underestimated the size of its existence, the amount of ‘parts’ into which it was capable of generating itself – evil breeds evil.’

As she spoke to them, her manner calm but business-like, blue eyes blazing and thick black hair glistening in the sunlight, Ken looked at her and saw the truth. Tori was every inch one of George’s offspring – every inch! As though she had caught the sound of his thoughts, Tori glanced at Ken and gave him a knowing look, followed by a little smile.

With the sardonic grin still crossing her lips, she continued. ‘Eventually we realised that it was not indestructible, that it could be hurt, destroyed even! Once we knew what faced us, and how long it would take, then we began to understand the extent of the sacrifices we should make, of how long we would have to remain strong, but we also knew it was not possible for us to do this alone. And so the war began in earnest. Years of blood and tears, hundreds of battles, victory and defeat, were all part of the price we were, and still are, willing to pay!’

She explained about how, over the years – millennia – they had eroded the power of their enemy. Piece by piece they had begun to dismantle him, and little-by-little his fragments were killed by those people who sacrificed themselves, gave the cause their ultimate ‘Gift’. A gift that very few people would know had been given on their behalf. There were many such willing volunteers, not only people such as Michael Wyppen, or members of their extended family, who had been through the awful scenario many times, there were others too, battles from other dimensions took many casualties.

‘You were one such casualty, Kenneth, in that other place, the desert,’ she said, and glanced from him to her husband and then back again. Not a flicker of recognition crossed Red’s face.

Tori looked at them again, saying: ‘My brother, Michael, gave of himself several times, nine times, to be exact...’ She paused to gather herself for a moment and they all saw the pain-filled shadow flutter across her striking features. After a few seconds she started to sum up, the tale was nearly at an end. All that remained were a few more words on the past and then the future awaited them – their own part in the last lines of the story.

‘So, here we are then, thank you for being so patient, and although I have tried to set the scene,’ she paused, ‘I still wish my Grandfather was here, George is so much better at this than I am.’

Jane disagreed. ‘You’re doing just fine, Tori, just fine!’ she whispered, and then suggested they have a coffee or something.

It was a good idea and they all agreed. The atmosphere had become a touch too heavy anyway. Perhaps a slight break would do them good. So, after some twenty minutes or thereabouts, and a healthy slice of Maggie’s homemade chocolate fudge cake, they gathered back at the table and waited whilst Tori tapped away at the keypad of the computer.

As the screen rose above them, she ordered: ‘Jack George Wildeman – the final extract, please!’ The screen flickered momentarily, as if searching for the information, and then a picture of the required subject appeared. It was rather like a passport photo, but much larger, just the head and shoulders were all they were shown – and Jack George Wildeman was smiling.

The screen showed them a short resume of Jack’s life, his marriage to Mary and the birth of their son, the very one who now sat and watched the story of his father’s final skirmish on some remote mountain ledge.

Tori gave the commentary: ‘We had received information as to the whereabouts of the Demon’s last hiding place in this parallel, and his final possession. The person who became his host is unknown to us and this is something we find to be strange, normally we can see who they are, but not this one…’ She looked at them and gave a little shrug. The screen showed them some more images of Jack.

The black Spear swung into a U-turn at the end of his lane and they watched as the passenger door opened for him. Before entering the vehicle, Michael’s father turned back towards the house and the expression on his face was one of terrible sadness. He pursed his lips, raised his hand to his mouth and blew one last kiss to the two sleeping people whom he must leave behind: his beloved wife Mary, and Michael, his treasured son.

In the present, that same son remained motionless as he looked at Tori’s private screening. Motionless except for the tears he let tumble down his cheeks. Tori never faltered in her rendition, never stopped the show, for it had to come out – the truth must be told, it had to be told, no matter what.

Jack turned and chucked his bag onto the floor of the passenger compartment. As he climbed into the seat they heard him say: ‘Okay, this time it looks like there’s no going back, so let’s just g…’ The closing of the door shut his words away from them. The car pulled away, and for the first time, Michael saw a perfect demonstration of how Shrink Down might appear to a casual observer.

The next scene showed Jack in a room with an older man.

‘George?’ the boy asked.

Tori looked at him and nodded.

He hadn’t recognised his oldest relative as he’d only ever seen the face of the man on Ken’s Communicator. In the current scene he saw just how small George was, Jack towered over him. The two men were leaning over a large display monitor, it looked like a map table, just a very high-tech one; the dull glow of the electronic device gave light to their faces as they pointed at different places on its screen. They heard George speaking. ‘So, it is definitely there, right there and waiting for us?’ he said. ‘I still cannot see who it is having ‘fun’ with, but I do have an idea…’ His words faded as the screen showed another man walking into the room.