Page 42 of Silent Prey

A challenge he relished.

Climbing a rocky outcropping, he peered south. He could see several flashlights winking through the thickening gloom—a search party out looking for Beverly, more than likely. They would never find her—he had made sure of that. He was always careful with his prey, always leaving himself room to maneuver.

He turned away from the sight, his heart pounding with exhilaration. The thrill of the game made him feel alive in ways nothing else could. He descended the rocks, making his way back to the cave. He felt the need to check on her once more before beginning his hunt.

As he entered the cool darkness of his den, Christopher found Beverly still unconscious on her makeshift bed. Her chest rose and fell steadily. He felt a jolt of anticipation course through him as he considered the challenge that lay before him.

Then she began to stir, groaning. “What…where am I?” she murmured.

Christopher watched from the shadows as Beverly's eyes fluttered open, confusion etching lines on her pale face. She tried to lift herself up, her hands weakly clawing at the pine boughs, but a soft whimper escaped her lips and she collapsed back onto the makeshift bed, dizzy.

"Easy there," Christopher said, stepping into the feeble light filtering through the cave's entrance. His voice was calm, almost soothing. The sight of her fear was intoxicating, and he knelt beside her, drawn to her. "You’ve taken quite a hit."

Beverly flinched at his voice, her breath hitching as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. Her gaze flickered to him, eyes wide and filled with confusion, then fear as she registered his presence.

"Who are you?" she asked weakly.

"Call me Christopher," he replied with a casual shrug. He could see the gears turning in her mind as she fought to piece together what had happened. "And you're Beverly King." He twirled her ID between his fingers, the plastic reflecting the dim light in the cave.

"What do you want?"

"I just want to play a little game, Beverly," Christopher replied smoothly, tucking her ID back into his pocket. He saw her swallow hard, the fear in her eyes intensifying as he added, "It's a simple game of survival."

Beverly whimpered, her gaze darting around the dimly lit cave. She attempted to push herself up again, but her strength failed her, and she fell back onto the pine boughs. Christopher raised his eyebrows in faux sympathy as he said, "I wouldn't waste your energy just yet, Beverly. You'll need it soon enough."

She started to protest, inching away from him as best she could. But Christopher merely laughed, the sound echoing in the hollow expanse of the cave.

"Help!" Beverly cried, her voice hoarse and weak. "P-please..."

"Shh," he chided her. “No one’s going to hear you. It’s no use trying to get out, either—this place is…protected. You wouldn’t make it far.”

Beverly's eyes widened, panic surging in her chest. She pushed herself to her feet, swayed for a moment, then steadied. She placed a hand against the side of her head and grimaced.

“I really got you good, didn’t I?” Christopher asked.

“You’re a monster.” The fear in Beverly’s voice was receding, replaced by anger. Good—anger would give her energy.

Christopher's grin widened, revealing rows of pearly white teeth. "No, dear Beverly," he said. "I'm simply a player in the game of life and death. Humans have forgotten their place in nature’s hierarchy. But don’t worry—I intend to remind them. And you’ll get to play a special role in that.”

Beverly glared at him, her voice wavering but clear when she spoke again. "I won't be a part of your sick game."

Christopher chuckled, resting his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the cool cave wall. He gave her a nonchalant glance, the thrill inside him growing with every passing second.

"Oh, but you already are, Beverly," he murmured. "You already are.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"So," Finn asked as Sheila drove, "you want to talk about the fact that you just got a roommate?"

It was shortly after nine, and they were on their way to the tattoo parlor where Vincent Drake worked. They were hoping to learn more about the man who had caused the incident at Saint Ives Hospital—and perhaps even manage to identify him.

After driving Star to her place, Sheila had helped Star get settled in, then crashed in bed for a few hours before Finn's call woke her. When she left, Star was sound asleep on the couch.

"It's just a temporary thing," Sheila said. "I'll have to contact CPS, let them know the situation, but for now the important thing is Star is safe."

Finn nodded, studying her. "I admire that—you standing up for her."

"You might not think that if you saw what I did to her father."

---