Hunted

Thirty-One: The Smell of Death

An icy, grey mist pressed down upon the world, obscuring the dark sky above. It extinguished any light that tried to penetrate the winter night. It smothered the earth in a suffocating blanket, unrelenting and impenetrable. Snow lay in high banks on either side of the silver, snaking road that stretched out before the car, a few soft flakes still floating in front of the car's headlights. The long spindly arms of evergreen trees reached forth from the fog, the branches heavy with undisturbed snow. The road itself had been cleared and gritted, but as a few flakes continued to emerge from the fog before the car, Matt feared that more snow was on its way.

He pushed his foot against the accelerator, the car taking on a fresh spurt of energy and he checked and rechecked the time.

"Matt, slow down," Rhian murmured, rolling over in the seat, her words marred by exhaustion. Matt clenched his jaw ignoring her, his eyes glued to the road ahead. They hadn't slept in so long, the days blurring into each other as they had hatched their plan to find Charlotte, as he had fought against his grandmother's will. Harris was comatose in the back seat, his head knocking repeatedly against the window, catching what little rest was afforded to him as they made their way north.

They had forced Freddie to head straight to the hotel when their plane had landed at the airport, and after unnecessary time spent arguing with him, he had begrudgingly agreed. Freddie just wasn't strong enough to face Nicholls and his army of altered right now, and Matt still had to protect him.

In fact, Matt had tried his hardest to get Rhian and Harris to remain behind with Freddie, but his efforts were to no avail. Instead they had stubbornly climbed into his hired black sedan and had endured the hours of journeying north through the harsh freezing fog and hazardous driving conditions.

"Are we nearly there?" she breathed, sitting forward a little, trying to fight the urge to fall asleep again. She stretched and yawned, arching her back slightly, before slumping back and gazing at the side of his face expectantly.

"Yes," he said in a tense voice.

Rhian peered into the oppressive darkness on either side of the car and frowned, before glancing at the satnav affixed to the dashboard.

"Twenty-three minutes until we reach our destination," she breathed, uneasily, her words stilted, mimicking the irritating voice Matt had long since silenced. "What do you think we'll find there?"

Matt grimaced slightly at her question, not wanting to word his fears. He had heard the rumours regarding Nicholls when he had arrived on the island. Even the other patrons had been nervous around him. For all intents and purposes, Charlotte would have been better off on the island, than with Nicholls. It was a known fact that he monopolised the most frightening and rarest alterations, using them against whoever he deemed fit. He had no family of his own, no friends, no relatives - just a vast wealth and his purchased soldiers. He collected them and hired them out to anybody with enough money and need for them, as hitmen, bodyguards, hunters... and more.

Matt pressed his lips together at the thought. He knew Charlotte well, and he knew she would not embrace Nicholls' way of living. He knew she would fight and he knew Nicholls would not tolerate her disobedience.

"Matt? Are you listening to me?" Rhian called, staring at him concerned.

"Hmm... sorry, what?" he repeated, glancing at her as if only realising she was in the car with him.

"What's your plan when we get there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Matt sighed. He had no idea. He didn't have much of a plan. He was just hoping that by mentioning his father's name he would be able to compel Nicholls to return Charlotte. It was a long shot - a very long shot, but he had little other choice. He couldn't very well go in and hope to take out a small army of altered and live to tell the tale. He had to negotiate. He had to be in control. Otherwise... well the results of failing did not bear thinking about.