Page 2 of Mann Hunt
Ian started shaking.I’ve got to get home.Katherine will be worried. His trunk was open and his suitcase was still sitting on the ground. He put his bag in the trunk and drove down the driveway, through the gates as they opened and out onto the main access road.
A figure stepped out of the shadows and flagged him down.
What does he want now?he thought. He lowered his window and said, “I’ll deal with this tomorrow.”
Then Ian realised that something wasn’t quite right.
A voice said, “I don’t believe you. Give me the keys.”
“What?”
“The car keys. Give me your car keys!” the attacker snapped, reaching in the window and grabbing onto Ian’s hair. It was then that Ian saw the gun.
His heart pounded as he pulled the keys out of the ignition and handed them over with a shaky hand.
“Out of the car. Now!”
As soon as he stepped out, Ian was grabbed and dragged towards the back of the car. The trunk lid popped open. The man tore off the emergency trunk lid release tab before saying, “Get in.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Get in and you’ll find out.”
Ian climbed into the trunk and curled himself into a protective ball as the lid slammed shut. He was in total darkness. His suitcase, which contained all of the objects of the beautiful aspect of his life, pressed painfully into his back. The engine roared and the car reversed, then sped ahead. Every turn, corner, pothole and stop sent him ricocheting around his tight prison cell. As the car bounced on a particularly deep rut, his head hit the hinge of the trunk and blood trickled down his face.
The car came to an abrupt stop and the driver’s side door opened, then closed. The trunk lid popped open.
He wasn’t sure where he was. It was remote, and in the distance he could hear water running.
“Get out.”
Ian’s limbs felt heavy and he was having trouble disentangling himself from the suitcase and other items in the trunk.
The man said, “Now, I hope you know I’m serious about this. Are you going to give me what I want?”
Something inside Ian snapped. For once, he wanted things to go his way. He stared directly at his attacker and said, “No, you will not get what you want. And you will pay for this. I’ll go to the papers and tell them everything.”
Then Ian started to run. He got twenty feet before his left foot caught on a tree root and he fell. He looked back and could see that his assailant was nearly on top of him.
Ian curled his legs beneath him, and with every last ounce of strength, launched himself directly at his attacker, driving his head into the assailant’s stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Ian turned aroundand started to run past his car and along a trail which seemed to head towards a street lamp.
He got no more than fifty feet down the path when the man tackled him from behind. He landed with a crack. Ian looked up into the sky.So many stars, he thought.So many…
When Ian came to, he felt as if he were floating. His head throbbed and he couldn’t see out of his left eye. His brain swam in a sea of confusion. He was naked. None of this made sense. Ian tried to stand up but his legs wouldn’t oblige. He was surrounded by water. His brain shouted messages ofdangerandget to safety, but his body failed to cooperate. The cold water felt good. It eased the pain. The trees and stars above swirled as he thought,I used to like swimming.Then he descended into blackness.
Chapter Two
Declan Hunt glanced down at his coat, frayed at the edges and covered with grime. His toes poked through the ends of his shoes, and as he stumbled along the street, he swerved around the people who walked past him. Occasionally he mumbled an apology. It was around two in the morning and the part of the block he walked down was poorly lit thanks to three burnt-out street lamps.
He leaned up against a lamppost and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, holding it in his shaking left hand. He tried to light it but the match went out before the cigarette was lit. A large man was moving along the street towards him. He was tall—about six-foot-two—and built like a brick wall.
“Hey, buddy—got a light?” Declan asked.
Brick Wall stopped and looked at him, then pulled out a fancy gold lighter, lit it and held it up to the partially smoked cigarette.
“Thanks.”
Brick Wall grunted an acknowledgement then walked farther along the street, entering a building a few doors down.
