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The iPhone clip the boys had gloated over flashed momentarily through Marcia O’Doole’s head. The leopard attacking the weakest, youngest member of the springbok herd. “Kevin!”
The man who had claimed to be an FBI officer whispered something in his ear, like a father or an uncle might. Kevin immediately stopped screaming.
“Let him go!” Tyler dryly shrieked from behind her.
“Kevin, do exactly as he says!” She held up her palms to both of them.
“Let him go, motherfucker!”
“Shut up, Tyler!” Marcia didn’t take her eyes off them.
“I’ve got the police on the line, Mom!”
“Hang it up, Tyler. Now!”
“But, Mom -”
“Now!”
For a moment the sound of birds filled out the silence. Kevin trembled against the barrel, his cheek indented by its pressure.
“OK. Everyone walk back with me to the house. Mh?”
He didn’t need to catch them all. Only one.
Mimic watched Mrs O’Doole and Beth Jordan pass him. Neither of them met his eye. Tyler O’Doole did. Poor kid. He probably thought his withering look could change the course of events. The ladies understood they couldn’t. “Show me your phone, son.”
Tyler halted and held it up, still holding his gaze.
Mimic examined the screen to make sure he’d hung it up. “Drop it at your brother’s feet.” He blinked the warm blood from the tenderiser wound out of his eyes.
Tyler released it and looked at it lying on the dead grass. Now he wouldn’t meet Mimic’s eye.
“Go and join your mom, and let’s have no more of this ‘motherfucker’ monkey business.”
He swivelled Kevin, lifting him off his feet and setting him down again, so he could watch Tyler catch up and the three of them approach the steps. He whispered again into Kevin’s ear. “If you have a phone, just take it out of your pocket and leave it with your brother’s.”
Kevin wrenched it out and let it drop.
He eased the pressure on his cheek. “Just stay calm. This will all be over if you do exactly as you’re told.” He’d initially told him he’d shoot his mother and brother in the face if he didn’t stop crying, and he’d responded appropriately.
The women and teenager turned at the top of the steps.
“Go into the dining room and stand by the mantel. Don’t be tempted by any impulse to escape.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Kevin,” Mrs O’Doole’s voice trembled behind her defiance.
“You are. Back to the dining room or I shoot both your boys in front of you.”
“Mom...” said Tyler, although Mimic was unsure whether it was a caution or just a child’s demand for her to make what was happening stop.
Mrs O’Doole gripped him firmly by his arm and moved him towards the steps. Beth Jordan followed. What was turning over in that brain? He’d be watching her closer than anyone else.
Mimic watched their three heads disappear below the edge of the bank and then marched the boy across to the handrail. “Walk slowly in front of me; don’t run, or I’ll put a bullet in your spine and then one in your brother and Mom.” He released the boy’s clammy body.
Kevin looked as if his legs might give out as he gripped the wood and descended. Mimic watched the adults looking back at his progress as they moved slowly down the side of the lodge. “Eyes front, all of you. Dining room mantel.”
When Mimic reached the bottom of the steps, the others had turned the corner. He’d have to be wary of an attack here. The adults knew it would be their last opportunity. “Kevin.”
The younger boy immediately halted and Mimic secured his arm around his throat and pushed the barrel back into the circular impression in his cheek. “Walk.”
They hit the corner but Mimic saw the adults had already entered the dining room via the double-glazed door. Perhaps they still thought they might be able to plead for some of their lives to be spared. That wasn’t going to happen. Killing them was the least of his worries, and the sooner he got started and had space and time to think about how to dispose of the bodies, the better. He briefly looked out across the river and sniffed in the clean air.
“That’s it, one more step.”
When he saw the other three standing in front of the mantel, Mimic released Kevin. He ran to his mother and she wrapped her arms around his head as he crooked it into her shoulder. He was taller than her, and Mimic allowed the awkward hug a few seconds before stepping into the room, keeping his gun pointed at the boy’s back. He dragged the door shut behind him. He wouldn’t need the suppressor. Their isolation meant concealing the shots wasn’t going to be necessary.
