365 Days Hunted Read online

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked down at the ground, pushing a small rock around with one foot. “Connor?”

  With a big sigh, he kicked away the rock. “I didn’t want you guys to kill me,” he whispered.

  I actually gasped. “Oh my god, Connor! We would never have done that. You know that, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes…but I didn’t then.”

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me about Brandon and Kieran later—when you knew it was safe?”

  It took him a while to figure out his words. Finally, he said, “I got tired of the ugly. I just didn’t want to have to deal with it anymore.”

  I nodded—I knew just what he was talking about.

  “You’re not going to tell them, are you?” he asked, nervously.

  I shook my head. “Not unless you want me to. Like you said, Connor…there’s been enough ugly. Let’s just have a good time for a change.”

  Unfortunately—Brandon had a different idea.

  * * * *

  “Kieran looks stupid.”

  We were all sitting around the dining room table, eating our ham and fried potatoes by candlelight. Rhys was sitting to my right and had just whispered in my ear.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Kieran looks normal to me.”

  “Look closer,” he urged.

  I turned my head, looking down and across the table to where Kieran was sitting with Brandon on one side and Andrei on the other. Since I had seen him last, he had changed into a dark shirt and pants. His hair was styled slightly different—slicked back on the sides. I was wondering if that was what Rhys meant, when Kieran suddenly looked up.

  “What the hell, Kieran?” I exclaimed, shocked. “Are you wearing eyeliner?!”

  He frowned at me. “It’s manliner, dude. It’s not a big thing.”

  “Lots of guys wear it,” said Brandon, coming to his rescue.

  “Oh yeah?” I said, turning to him. “Then, how come you’re not wearing it?”

  “Um—well,” Brandon stuttered. “It’s better on someone like Kieran. I can’t pull it off. I’m too big.”

  Andrei was leaning over, trying to get a better look at Kieran’s eyes. My brother pushed him away. “Dude, personal space!”

  “Well, I think you look emo,” I said. “Or like a boy-band reject.”

  “And I think you look dumb,” whispered Rhys beside me—just under his breath.

  * * * *

  Ethan was too tired to see in the New Year.

  At just after 9:00 p.m., I looked across the table to see him, head against the back of his chair—snoring. Between playing with his new presents to running around with Wester all day to the late night supper—he was done.

  I rose and walked around the table, picking him up in my arms. He didn’t wake, just laid his head on my shoulder and continued to snore.

  Seeing this, Brandon suddenly jumped up, reaching out to grab Ethan. “I can take him.”

  “No thanks,” I responded. “Go back to your supper. I’ve got him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

  Slowly, looking oddly disappointed, Brandon sat back down in his chair. As I carried Ethan out, I had the weird sensation that—if I turned around—I would find Brandon watching us.

  HAPPY NEW YEAR—MAYBE

  As I finished cleaning up dinner, the rest of the guys waited in the living room for the New Year to arrive. Andrei, Ian, Rhys, and Connor played Monopoly, while Porter worked on some spreadsheet that he was making for our storeroom supplies.

  Brandon and Kieran, meanwhile, were sitting in a corner drinking beer and talking quietly. I felt very uncomfortable seeing my younger brother using alcohol but—like Connor—I just didn’t want to deal with the ugly at that moment.

  Instead, I just turned my head and pretended that I didn’t see.

  * * * *

  My mother always said that evil finds its foothold when good men look away.

  She was right.

  * * * *

  Rather than return to the living room, I went out into the garage to begin washing the dishes. After about a half hour, Porter showed up to help me.

  “That’s fine, bud,” I said, waving him away. “You cooked…I can do these by myself.”

  “The way you’re going, it will take you until next year,” he teased. “Besides, I’d feel better if you were in the room when New Year’s hits.”

  My hackles began a slow vibration.

  “Is there something going on in there I should know about?” I asked, suspicious.

  Porter shrugged, not looking me in the eye. “Not really…except that Brandon put up mistletoe.”

  “Pardon?!”

  * * * *

  It happened fast.

  As I walked into the living room, Brandon charged toward me from the other side. Porter reached out quickly and pushed me toward the couches. I stumbled, almost falling over a coffee table.

  “What the hell?!” I spun back toward Porter.

  Brandon, however, was two steps ahead of me. “Dude!” yelled Brandon, punching Porter in the arm. “I almost had him!”

  That’s when I noticed the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

  I had been standing right below it.

  Porter had simply been pushing me out of the way.

  Looking at an obviously drunk Brandon, I shuddered to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t.

  Meanwhile, Brandon grabbed at Porter, tugging him toward the mistletoe. “Your turn then…closest thing we got to a girl,” he snickered. “Little kiss, whaddya say, cutie-pie?”

  Porter actually squealed in horror.

  I moved quickly, pulling him away from Brandon. “Leave him alone!”

  “But Porter’s pretty,” insisted Brandon. “And it’s been so long since I had me some pretty. Just one kissy-kiss.”

  He reached out for Porter again and I slapped at his hands. “Seriously, dude!” I barked. “You’re drunk! Go find someone else to annoy.”

  “Okey-dokey,” he slurred. Then he turned around, his finger moving across the guys at the Monopoly table before finally settling on—Kieran.

  Crap!

  “Ooo,” Brandon giggled, stumbling toward my brother. “What a pretty, pretty boy.”

  Kieran’s eyes went wide. He stood up, putting his hands out.

  Brandon went right up to him, leaning against Kieran’s hands, puckering his lips and making kissing sounds. “Ring in the New Year…how about it, Kiki? One little smooch under the mistletoe.”

  “Stop it, Brandon!” Kieran bleated.

  “But it’ll be good luck.” Brandon waggled his tongue obscenely.

  This ridiculousness had gone on long enough. I jumped up and pulled the mistletoe down from the ceiling. Then I walked over, pulled Brandon off my brother, and slapped the mistletoe into his hand. “It’s done, bro. Settle down or go to bed. Your choice.”

  Brandon looked hurt. “Just having some fun.”

  “Keep your hands off my brother,” I said—still furious.

  “It’s okay, Jacob,” said Kieran. “I can handle this.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t done a very good job so far, have you?” I said, meanly.

  Kieran’s face immediately went dark. He turned and stalked out of the room. Brandon watched him go, weaving slightly. Then, he turned to me and grinned.

  “Kiki’s just so dang pretty when she’s pissed, isn’t she?”

  * * * *

  “Three...two...one...Happy New Year!!”

  It was just the seven of us.

  Brandon and Kieran had returned to their guest house while Ethan snored away in his bedroom. We seven moved around each other—slapping backs, shaking hands, and giving a quick bro-hug here or there.

  When we quieted down, I raised my glass of fruit punch. “To a year of good health and happiness. To our friends and families, wherever they might be. To this family—our tribe. To whatever is about to co
me our way—may we always face it together…and win.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Porter.

  The other guys echoed him, raising their glasses of fruit punch.

  * * * *

  Porter and I left the guys in the living room—setting up for another round of Monopoly. As we walked out, I could hear Andrei explaining the new rules he’d just made up—something to do with creepers and cave spiders (video game stuff).

  It was dark in the hallway; the lanterns Porter and I held barely penetrated the shadows as we walked.

  “Bet you, three months ago, you didn’t think that you’d be spending New Year’s Eve with a bunch of guys,” joked Porter, as we walked toward the staircase leading up to the upper levels of the house.

  “I can honestly say that I did not.”

  “It’s weird not having girls around, isn’t it?”

  “Very weird,” I agreed.

  We reached the staircase and started up—careful where we placed each foot on the darkened risers.

  “You going on watch now?” asked Porter.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “There hasn’t been anybody up on the roof for hours. Someone needs to get us back on track.”

  We reached the second level and stopped on the landing.

  “It was nice to have a break from all that survival-stuff, though,” Porter grinned. “Almost felt normal for once…almost.”

  “Yeah, ‘almost’ is right.”

  I was about to head up to the third level, when I heard a rustle coming from around the corner—just down the second floor hallway.

  Porter and I froze.

  “What—” began Porter.

  Quickly putting my finger to my lips, I shushed him.

  Then, slowly—I leaned my head around the corner and looked down the hall.

  There was a dark figure standing just outside of Ethan’s open doorway! One hand on the doorjamb, the guy was weaving slowly back and forth.

  * * * *

  “Brandon!” I yelled, rushing forward. “What the hell are you doing?!”

  He almost fell, he moved back so fast. I grabbed him, holding him by his shoulders to steady him.

  “Jush lookin,” Brandon slurred, putting his hands up. “Heard a noise…jush lookin.”

  Porter pushed by us quickly, moving into Ethan’s room. I waited, holding onto an unstable Brandon.

  “Jush lookin,” Brandon repeated.

  A moment later, Porter exited, closing the door behind him. “Everything looks fine. Ethan’s snoring away.”

  I turned to study Brandon; he looked confused, off-kilter—like he didn’t really know what was going on. Finally, I let him go, pushing him in the direction of the staircase. “Go back to the guest house, Brandon…go to bed!”

  He didn’t say another word; just turned and lumbered off. A moment later—he stumbled down the stairs and was gone.

  Porter looked over at me, frowning. “Do you think he was going to do something?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, honestly.

  “He scares me, Jacob. There’s something off about Brandon.”

  “He scares me, too.”

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  “We watch him for now,” I said quietly. “And if he does anything…one wrong move…he’s out of here.”

  * * * *

  I didn’t go on watch that night.

  Instead, I took a chair and sat outside the guest house—hidden in the dark—where I could see inside through the windows. I watched Brandon for over an hour, as he stumbled around in the small living room—drinking beer, dancing by himself, talking to his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace.

  Truthfully—I wasn’t just worried about Brandon being outside of Ethan’s bedroom.

  I was also worried for Kieran.

  But my brother never came out of his bedroom. Perhaps he had a lock on his door. Or, perhaps, it never occurred to Brandon to try and go in.

  In any case—just before it got light—Brandon finally settled down and entered his bedroom and went to sleep. Crawling around the guest house to kneel below his window, I waited until I heard him snoring.

  Then—and only then—did I return to the main house and go to bed myself.

  I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  Happy New Year.

  JANUARY

  GROWING UP

  It was a surprisingly cold beginning to the new year.

  There was—of course—no heat in the mansion.

  So, to make life easier, one person was assigned to get up earlier than everyone else and get the fireplace in the living room going.

  We would all stumble down in the mornings, wrapped in our blankets, to huddle around the fire—drinking coffee and waiting until our bones warmed up.

  * * * *

  More and more, I found myself wandering the rooms and hallways of the Michelson mansion during the times that I wasn’t on watch. I told the guys that walking helped to keep me warm—or that I was bored—or simply exploring.

  Only Porter ever seemed to notice that I was always walking the hallways armed.

  The truth was—the incident with Brandon had spooked me.

  I was worried for the younger boys, afraid that he might show up in their bedrooms.

  Even before ‘it’ happened, I had often found Brandon unstable. He had always seemed dangerous to me—on the football field and off. Now, I was feeling foolish and responsible for bringing him into our small group.

  Because—no matter what—I would protect our tribe.

  Even if that meant getting rid of Brandon.

  * * * *

  I tried talking to Kieran about my concerns, but he refused to take them seriously.

  “Brandon’s a lot of fun,” Kieran insisted. “I like hanging around with him.”

  “Half the time he’s drunk. How much fun can that be?”

  “You’re always making such big things out of nothing,” scoffed Kieran. “So he has a little drink now and then? Big deal.”

  “He drinks all the time!” I said, frustrated. “And he’s got you drinking and you’re underage!”

  “I have a beer,” reasoned Kieran. “What’s the big deal? Kids in Europe drink all the time and they don’t have any problems.”

  “What are you talking about? How do you even know that?” I argued. “That’s so stupid.”

  “It’s not. Brandon says it’s true.”

  “Well, of course, Brandon would say that,” I protested,” but saying it doesn’t make it true. Kieran, you’ve got to see what he’s doing. He’s just making bad excuses for his bad behavior.”

  “He said you’d say something like that,” snapped Kieran, frustrated. “Brandon said that you’d try to get me back under your thumb…because you don’t like me being independent.”

  “What?!”

  “You can’t control me anymore, Jacob,” he stated, finger waggling in front of my face. “Because I’m my own man now. And I’m sorry if you don’t like that, but get over it!”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” I exploded, my voice rising in anger. My hand flashed out, slapping his finger away. “You think I don’t want you to become independent?!”

  “You certainly don’t want me to spend time with Brandon,” he snarled, his voice rising to meet mine. “You just want me to move into the house where you can control my every move like you control all the other guys.”

  “I don’t control anybody!”

  “You do, too!” Kieran raged. “You tell everybody what to do. They can’t even take a piss unless you give them the go-ahead!

  “That’s ridiculous! Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? How immature?” I yelled.

  “I’m finally having fun with my life—doing things that I want to do,” he yelled back. “Brandon’s my friend now—not yours—and that pisses you off.”

  I was astonished.

  “You think I’m jealous of you and Brandon?!”

  “It’s alwa
ys been Jacob-this and Jacob-that and oh, your brother is such a good surfer and oh, your brother has such beautiful blue eyes and oh, your brother is so smart and so good-looking and so nice and so—who the hell cares!” Kieran screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “Well, guess what, big brother—this time it’s finally about me—and you can’t handle that! So, big boo-hoo!”

  He stood there in front of me—hands on his hips—daring me to respond.

  Instead, I simply turned and walked away.

  It was either that or smack the smug, annoying look off of his face.

  * * * *

  Ian eventually found me in Kaylee’s room, sitting on the edge of her bed—staring out the window.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I smiled. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I always wanted a brother,” he said, entering and throwing himself onto a flowery-chair in the corner. “Sometimes, being an only child is kind of boring, you know. But after listening to you and Kieran just now—maybe being an only kid is kind of okay after all.”

  “You could hear us fighting?”

  “Dude,” said Ian, “the Locals could hear you fighting!”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s okay. We all know that you’re worried about Kieran.”

  “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  Ian nodded. Then he picked up a picture of Kaylee with her mom, turning it around in his hands. “You like my step-cousin, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “She’s a nice girl.”

  “Well, I only met her a couple of times,” he admitted. “But she’s always been real nice to me, even though my aunt married her dad and made her move out. Did you have classes with Kaylee?”