Like Father, Like Son - 7

‘Missing coed found dead, mutilated’ the headlines screamed three days later.

Declan avidly read the article and followed the story on TV. All the while he felt a sense of fulfillment well beyond anything he’d ever gotten while killing some small animal. He knew then he would never go back to the dogs and cats that had kept his rage at bay as a child.

Then something else happened, soon after the killing of Nicolette.

Declan returned to the cemetery. He wasn’t certain why; he knew he’d get no information from the custodians there. Perhaps it was just morbid curiosity, the need to look at the one real link he had to his father, the grave of Bryant’s brother.

The day was gray and gloomy, the cemetery virtually empty as he walked from the main gate to the gravesite. When he approached he saw a man standing there, leaning on a cane as he muttered to himself. He thought he recognized him as the one in the picture with Bryant.

Declan inched closer, listening.

“I visited your brother today,” the old man mumbled. “He misses you, Crispin. He wants to plan another game.” Resting one hand on the headstone he continued. “I played the game last night, or was it last week? I can’t remember.” He sounded upset about that.

The man sighed deeply. “There is so much I don’t remember now, like how I got here, where I live now.” He took a staggering step away from the grave.  

Declan was beside him in an instant, gripping his arm to keep him erect. “You’re Gerald Hill,” he said, a statement not a question.

Gerald nodded slowly, seeming puzzled. “Do I know you?”

For a moment Declan debated how to reply. Gerald was old, very old, or so it seemed from Declan’s viewpoint as a twenty-year-old. He seemed confused, as if he wasn’t quite certain where he was, and from what Declan had overheard he might not know.

“I’m your grandson,” Declan told him.

“I don’t have a grandson.”

“Yes you do, grandfather. You just…sometimes you have trouble remembering things.” Still holding his arm, Declan guided Gerald to a bench a few feet away. When they were seated he said, “I’m Bryant’s son.”

“I saw your father today.” Gerald looked at Declan. “You look so like him. Do you visit him too?”

“I…” Declan chewed his lip as if afraid to reply. “I’ve been away at school and…when I got back he’d moved.”

For a second Gerald glared at him. “Of course he did. He had to.” Then the light went out of his eyes again. “They wouldn’t let him stay with me. They took him away,” he said mournfully. “The game ended.”

“What game, grandfather?” Declan asked softly.

“The game of hunt and destroy the idiots that people find annoying.”