Fight (Book Three, the Hunted)

by Patti Larsen

  “Patrick,” she whispers.

  Reid nods. “Thank you.”

  Marcus whistles low, gestures. “There’s another group close,” he says. “They would have heard the gunshots. If we hurry, we can set up an ambush.”

  There is nothing Reid would like more.

  He waits for the others to leave, the kids celebrating quietly even as they hustle onward, tempered by the loss of one of their own but buoyed by the giant victory. And while Reid knows the weapon fire will have alerted the soldiers if not the hunters that something is wrong, he hopes to at least take out a few more before the ruse fails.

  He pauses over a dust pile, the remains still softly sparkling in the moonlight. Reid crouches, running some through his fingers, remembering how amazing he felt the last time this stuff was in his system. And while it disgusts him to think that the hunter’s remains can be a tool to defeat them, Reid knows he can’t afford to pass up any opportunity to increase their chances of success.

  He takes a large handful and stuffs it in his front pocket before turning to follow the pack.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  They reach the second ambush spot with plenty of time and achieve the same result. This round they don’t lose anyone, though, while taking out another three hunters.

  Reid counts it as a solid win.

  Nishka hovers, bent in half, her hands on her knees, panting and shaking from her run while the rest of the pack has a silent celebration, the elation almost too much for them this time. Leila offers her a gentle hug, driving the girl into immediate tears. It’s only Marcus’s insistence that gets them moving again while the weary runner chokes on sobs.

  “Three targets,” Marcus says. “Closing fast. Maybe a half a mile south.”

  “Leila,” Reid meets her eyes, “you’re up.”

  She looks at him like she doesn’t know what he means. When it registers, her smile is deadly.

  “Finally,” she says, leaving Nishka in Sarah’s care before running off with Marcus to the next ambush point.

  Reid nods to Kieran. “I’m taking the back,” he says. “You guide them.”

  The tall guy flushes pink but grins like Reid gave him a gift. “I won’t let you down.”

  Reid has nothing to say to that. If Kieran is able to deliver, he’s doing a better job than Reid.

  Still, he feels a thrill of excitement as he jogs along behind the pack, while Kieran leads the kids on. He knows better than to let such hopes get the better of him, but the weapons they carry and the help of the GPS is giving them a distinct advantage. And the way he figures it, as long as they keep moving, the hunters will have no choice but to risk chasing them. And as long as their ammunition lasts, the pack can keep trying.

  It’s not likely they’ll get another chance to take out soldiers and replenish their bullets but if they save the last of their ammo for an assault on a blind, maybe there is a chance. But running around the enclosure, killing hunters and trying to find soldiers isn’t getting them what they really want.

  Freedom.

  He’s pretty sure the creators of the hunters won’t let Reid and his friends kill so many it threatens their program. Which means they’ll soon have armed men to deal with as well. Armed men hidden behind camouflage that can shoot the kids without them even knowing the soldiers are there.

  Reid just hopes they can hold the army and the hunters off long enough to turn the tide and get them through the gate. Because if Reid can get out, he swears to himself he’ll keep running and never look back.

  His mind goes back to the fence as it always does. Why kill hunters at all? Or wait for the soldiers to be discovered? Now that they have guns, maybe they should retreat to the gate and try an assault.

  He casts that aside as a dumb idea. A frontal assault on an armed camp with a pack of desperate kids is a fool’s mission. There’s no way out of here without stealth and careful planning. Taking on the army would just end up getting them all killed.

  Not that this fool’s mission is really any different. Chances are their luck is going to catch up with them eventually. Not the good luck they’ve been experiencing, oh no. The bad luck that has dogged their every step since they were dropped in this woodland of horror.

  Reid slides into the underbrush at the ambush site, finding his place along the trail. He waits, only then noticing he’s on the wrong side from Marcus. Not that it really matters, but they are trying to keep the guns on one side of the path so no one gets shot accidentally in crossfire. Reid is about to dodge to the opposite tree line when he sees Marcus gesture a warning and hears footsteps at the same time.

  Too late. Leila is coming. He sees her, glowing white-blonde hair flowing behind her, pale skin translucent in the moonlight. He didn’t want her to run, tried to avoid it, to keep her safe from the hunters, to shelter her if he could. But knew she would never forgive him if she didn’t get the chance.

  He can’t stop staring at her as she flies by him, so beautiful. He has to jerk his gaze from her and turn when he hears Marcus shout, “Now!”

  Reid shakes himself, furious he’s missed the hunter’s appearance, kicking himself over and over as he sets aside his rifle and crouches out of the way of the kids with guns.

  It’s not until then he feels them, all around him. The hunters, yes. But they are not alone and whatever is with them isn’t quite the same, not really. Whatever is out there is something else. Something more sinister.

  Instantly Reid suspects the small, furred creatures from the mine and he calls out, his voice a hoarse croak of warning. But when one of the flying shadows lands on the path in front of a knot of screaming kids, Reid realizes they are dealing with an entirely different kind of attack.

  These new creatures are at least four feet tall at the shoulder, as big as a couple of the kids, taller in the front with powerful hind quarters slumped low to the ground. Like their smaller counterparts, these monstrosity’s faces are mostly mouth and gigantic teeth, beady black eyes flickering in the dim light from above. Long trails of saliva hang from gaping jaws as the thing growls like a dying chainsaw.

  Reid scrambles for his weapon as the first one strikes. It moves as fast as the hunters, if not faster, rising up on its back legs. The huge mouth wrenches wide and descends, engulfing the entire upper half of the little boy cowering in front of it.

  The teeth snap shut, the horrible crunching sound of them making Reid stagger. Blood gushes from between its clenched jaws, pouring down the boy’s jeans to soak the ground. The thing shakes the kid once, the lower half of the boy flying to the side, a spray of blood going with it, legs limp but seeming to kick the air as what’s left of him impacts the trail.

  The monster’s massive mouth grinds sideways, chewing the boy to bits.

  Reid fires at it point blank, not knowing he is screaming until he stands over its disintegrated form. He spins, sees another has Nishka and Sarah cornered, the two girls trying to protect a handful of the pack from this new horror. Reid fires, sees their shock through the cascade of dust the creature leaves behind.

  Reid’s rage rises higher and higher, his accuracy unwavering with the rifle, taking down three, four, five of the giant beasts while the three hunters stand back and laugh.

  Reid squeezes the trigger again, feels the impact of the butt against his shoulder and cheek, smells the sharp scent of gunpowder, hears the crack of the bullet as it leaves the rifle and kills another creature. He spins, looks around, knows from feel there are only the hunters remaining. They have stopped laughing and crouch to attack.

  “Scatter!” Despite their terror, Reid’s barked order is followed immediately. The kids turn all at once and run in their own directions, not looking back or waiting for anyone. It’s the only defense they have left.

  Reid sees the hunters leap after their chosen prey, feels guilt wash over his fury. If only he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted by Leila, he could have warned them all earlier, been ready for the new onslaught. His shame
and rage drive him to desperation. The powder. The power it offers. Reid has to save them, even if he has no idea what the stuff is doing to him.

  His hand dives into his pocket, pulls out a fist full and for the first time, Reid purposely inhales as much of it as he can.

  Through the tingle and burn that takes him over, Reid realizes the world is so clear around him all at once he stops and stares. It’s like everyone else has slowed down while the sun has somehow come up in an instant. He can see everyone, hear everything, his senses so sharp they cut him deeply, deliciously painful and marvelous all at the same time, so much so he can barely stand it.

  He spots a hunter closing in on Sarah and Nishka and acts in an instant, springing from where he stands to a flat-out chase. He forgets the rifle swinging from his chest, the knife in his pocket. Those weapons are useless, irrelevant. Reid wants to kill, yes. But with his bare hands.

  Reid hits the hunter from behind, knocking it off balance as its claw descends to Nishka’s terrified face, missing her by inches. Reid and the hunter tumble across the path, it twisting around until they are face to face. He is sure it is about to strike when it looks in his eyes. Its own widen for a moment, pupils blowing out from shock. He can’t believe it when it suddenly stops resisting.

  Reid grips its head in his hands and drives it into the ground, over and over again, grunting from the effort, his fury making him powerful while the powder’s influence feeds his strength even more.

  Hands grip him, pull him away, but Reid refuses to let go. Finally someone hits him, hard across the jaw, and Reid spins, anger transferring immediately. Marcus comes into sharp focus, and for a moment Reid considers doing something about his rival once and for all. It wouldn’t take much, a simple grasp of his head, a twist of his neck. Instant death.

  But reason returns at last, forcing its way through the haze of his rage, until he finds himself panting and shuddering, kneeling over the unconscious form of the hunter, ashamed and horrified he was so ready to kill.

  “Reid.” Marcus looks scared, but not of the passed out creature between them. “What the hell, Reid?”

  He shakes his head, unwilling to tell Marcus what he’s done and silently swearing to himself he can never do so again. The power is incredible, the benefits clear and precise. But this time when Reid climbs to his feet and tries to find his humanity again, he discovers he’s lost a part of his soul.

  Or, at least it feels that way. A gaping hole taunts him from deep inside, sucking him toward it, calling his name, asking him to cross over.

  Marcus may be scared of Reid, but he’s not the only one.

  ***

  Chapter Ten

  Reid binds the unconscious hunter with more rope from the soldier’s blind while Marcus checks for approaching forces. The other two hunters are dead, Kieran flushed and grinning fiercely from his kill while Milo and Alex, surrounded by more kids they rounded up, pant their way back onto the trail to claim the second. Safe for the moment, Reid sends them on ahead while he finishes gagging the creature, careful of its very sharp teeth. When Reid bends to lift it, Marcus immediately takes the feet, grunting from the weight. Reid hefts the creature by the shoulders, amazed at how easy it is.

  As they make their way to the next established rendezvous point, with Marcus cursing and sweating from the effort, Reid realizes he could shoulder the hunter and carry it himself without a problem.

  He again thinks about the powder, the effect it has had on him, and stares at the back of Marcus’s head. It would be nice to tell someone, share what he has learned, but the guy struggling ahead of him is the last person he is willing to go to. Reid simply doesn’t trust Marcus not to use this information to his own advantage.

  But Reid has to tell someone. He can’t keep this to himself anymore. It frightens him to think he is all alone in the knowledge and experience of it. He runs through his friends in his mind. Cole? No way. The kid is pretty smart but too excitable and impulsive for his own good. Same for Milo. Telling those two would be like setting loose a pair of giddy kids looking for a fix. Leila? Reid shudders from that. They already have issues, aside from how he feels about her. He doesn’t want to add to those.

  His mind settles on Kieran. The new guy seems stable enough, a good head on his shoulders. Trustworthy. He certainly has a powerful sense of protection for the girls who travel with him.

  Speak of the devil, Reid feels him nearby, in time to turn his head and see Kieran pop up out of the underbrush. Marcus shouts in hoarse surprise and almost drops the hunter’s legs.

  “Sorry,” Kieran looks both ways before crossing the path. It makes Reid grin.

  “No cars around here,” he says with a surge of good humor.

  Kieran grins and blushes. “Old habits. Need some help?”

  Marcus willingly dumps the hunter on Kieran who staggers a little under the weight, his slim frame swaying, but doesn’t complain.

  “Let’s go.” Reid follows Marcus’s order only because he agrees with it.

  The tall guy’s willingness has made up Reid’s mind in the mean time. First chance he gets, he plans to share what he’s learned with Kieran.

  They turn off the path and into the forest, dragging the inert form of the hunter with them. It’s a little harder going, but Reid is able to lift the creature’s torso enough to get past the worst of it, taking on as much of the thing’s weight as he can.

  Still, by the time they reconnect with the pack, Kieran is staggering and panting heavily. As soon as he is able, he stops and looks back over his shoulder at Reid.

  “Letting go.” Nice to have the warning. The tall guy releases the hunter and steps aside, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension in them and drawing deep breaths.

  Reid lowers his end more gently, watching the pack’s reaction. At first they retreat, some squealing softly, others silent, plainly terrified. But when they realize the thing is tied up and can’t hurt them, they come closer, as they had in the mine, sliding forward inch by inch, their fear and curiosity at war. But not one of them fails to come in for a closer look. Dangerous or not, Reid knows their need to face their enemy. Reid understands their fascination, feels it himself, a sick need to look despite everything. Like watching a train wreck or a bloody car accident despite knowing you should really look away from the death and destruction and stray body parts.

  Reid sees the hunter’s eyes flicker open. They immediately meet his. He can’t tear his gaze away from it, locked in silent intensity. The hole inside him gapes wider, calling to him, beckoning him home. Reid is falling into that hole, unable to hold himself back.

  The hunter twitches, looks away. Reid feels the connection between them snap, finds himself crouching next to it, hands reaching out. He knows, without finishing the act, he was in the process of taking out the hunter’s twisted rope gag. Reid jerks himself back, not knowing what kind of hold the thing has over him but swearing to himself that’s the last time it will get the chance to make him do anything.

  Reid glances up to see what distracted the hunter and sees Alex at its feet. He is holding a twisted branch. While Reid watches, the boy jabs the hunter with the stick.

  Reid laughs. Alex looks startled, then grins and pokes it again.

  They all have a good look, including Reid, though this time he avoids its eyes. It looks human, skin ghostly pale, rows of teeth flashing around the gag. The claws are extensions of its fingers, the last three on the hand, leaving the thumb and index normal, almost ordinary. There is a feline quality to the thing, but a reptilian feel as well. Reid wonders how whoever created them ever managed it.

  “Some kind of hybrid construct.” Nishka speaks what Reid is thinking. She glances up, meets his eyes. “I’m taking advanced genetics in University next year.” Shrugs. “If I have a next year.” Looks back at the hunter. “This shouldn’t be possible. It’s like science fiction.”

  Reid can’t help but smile, hearing Drew’s teacher voice in his head. “Obviously not.”

&nb
sp; She nods. “Obviously.”

  “Okay, great, fine.” Milo is scowling, arms crossed over his chest. “Who gives a crap what they are? Or why, even? I don’t.” He looks around, meeting other pairs of eyes, as though seeking support. “I just want to kill them and get the hell out of here.”

  Murmurs at that. They do agree with him. So does Reid. Mostly.

  “The more we learn about them the better,” Reid says, stilling their muttering. “Finding out what makes them tick might give us an advantage.”

  Marcus shakes his head, holding up the GPS and his rifle. “I have all the advantage I need right here.”

  The others are grinning and nodding. They look like a pack of rebel fighters, the last of their kind, just them against the odds. Reid can’t help himself. He smiles with them.

  “Still,” he says. “I’m going to ask it some questions.”

  They don’t protest. In fact, they look eager and crowd even closer, like they are waiting for a show to start. Reid leans in, hands on the gag on purpose this time, staring at the end of the creature’s nose instead of in its eyes.

  “If you make a sound to call the others,” Reid says pleasantly, like he’s inviting the hunter to lunch, “I’ll cut your throat.”

  It doesn’t move or make a sound, just lies there and waits.

  Understanding made, Reid unties the makeshift gag and slides it free.

  The hunter’s tongue snakes out, wets its lips. It remains silent. In his peripheral vision, Reid can see its eyes rolling around, looking at the kids hovering near.

  “I know you can talk,” Reid says. At least, he’s pretty sure, ever since the night of the fire at the station, when the hunters celebrated together. And the gate, when the injured one spoke to the woman in the lab coat. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but was sure they spoke to each other. “What are you?”

  The lips pull wider, teeth shining. “You smell delicious,” it says. And laughs, low and soft, the chilling sound Reid has grown to hate. Its voice is deep, guttural and almost echoey as if coming from a vast pit. But its English is flawless, without accent.