The two vehicles carrying Major Lee and six men followed a close distance behind, ready to move up into position at any moment and give Nakai cover. Nakai didn’t expect to need any help for some time. He doubted the monster was still in the same place, but that was where Nakai had last seen him, and that was where Nakai had to start his chase.
It took less than an hour to find the creature’s camp, now abandoned and cold. The puma’s body lay broken and skinned on the rocks. Flies and ants ate at the exposed muscle and flesh. One of the human heads had been left behind on a rock, almost as if taunting Nakai. It was Sheriff Bogle’s, sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat still in place.
This creature was smart. It had left the most identifiable head, just to make a point.
When the major saw the severed head he turned even whiter, but didn’t lose his breakfast, as two of the men with him did.
Nakai glanced at the two men, then turned to the major. “If this makes them sick, you may want to leave them behind. What lies ahead will be much, much worse.”
Major Lee nodded in agreement, then ordered his men to scout the surrounding area while he called in a helicopter with more men to secure the site. It took twenty minutes for reinforcements to arrive.
While he waited, Nakai scouted the surrounding area. The monster was smart. It had left a number of false trails. But it hadn’t known how to fool an expert tracker, at least not in this landscape. Nakai found the real trail fast enough, and even though he had expected it, he still felt a shiver run down his back.
The creature had gone back to Agate.
Nakai hoped to hell that Alda had taken his advice and gotten out. He hoped she had taken her friends with her.
When Nakai came back, he must have looked a bit stunned, because the major frowned at him.
“Problems?”
Nakai wasn’t going to answer that. Instead, he said, “I found the trail.”
“Good,” Lee said, and turned away. He finished securing the area, then traded the two men who had lost their breakfast for a couple of sturdier stomachs. When the men were in place, Lee gave the go-ahead.
Nakai didn’t even hesitate.
He went south, walking quickly toward the small town of Agate twenty miles away. Behind him the humvees followed, as if he were leading his own parade. A very deadly parade.
The monster’s tracks didn’t change direction for almost fifteen miles. It had made the trek last night, after the fight, under cover of darkness. But as it approached Agate, the monster had veered from cover to cover, clearly working its way into the town. Nakai hoped that everyone in Agate was gone to safer areas. If not, there more than likely were more bodies and heads waiting to be found.
It took the group most of the day to cover this stretch of desert. That was fine as far as Nakai was concerned. Attacking the creature at night might give them a bit of an advantage. It had a way of becoming invisible to the eye in daylight.
When they reached the highway, Nakai made the group stop. He waited a long time, to see if there was any traffic. There wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign. Then, at his signal, they crossed the highway and stopped at Henry Barber’s gas station. They moved the humvees around back and into the shade. Henry had locked the doors and put up a “Closed” sign on the door. Nothing had disturbed the place.
Nakai figured that the monster was doing the same as they were doing: holing up in a safe spot and resting during the last few hot hours of the day, then hunting at night. It was apparent to Nakai after witnessing last night’s fight with the cat that the monster had the ability to see in the darkness. Some sort of night vision or infrared ability. But it was also clear that the monster could be killed. And that was exactly what Nakai intended to do.
The time passed slowly, but finally the sun dropped below the horizon and Agate’s few streetlights came on. Nakai forced himself to wait at least another half hour, then motioned to Major Lee that they should be starting out.
Just as they were ready, a red sports car sped past, heading into town. It was the first car they’d seen in the past two hours. From what Nakai could tell in the waning light, there was a driver behind the wheel and another man slouched in the passenger seat.
“Our bait,” Nakai said to the major, hoping that the bait would serve more as a lure than as the strange predator’s first kill of the evening.
The major nodded, but looked a bit uncomfortable. Nakai was beyond that now. He had to get this monster before it got them. He swung up into the back of the humvee and grabbed a rocket launcher. “Follow with lights off. Keep our distance.”
The major gave the order and they pulled out, making sure the sports car’s taillights were a good distance ahead in the small town of Agate.
17
In any war, warriors die, Innocents die. My brother is in a war with the monster. There have been many deaths. There will be many more. It is the nature of war.
The cool breeze from the air-conditioning filled the red sports car, keeping Jay Newport and Scott Richards comfortable in the hot desert evening. Jay’s stereo played one of his favorite tapes, The Best of the Bee Gees, loud enough to drown out the sounds of the motor. Scott hated the tape and the group, but over the long trip from Phoenix, they had agreed to alternate music. At the moment it happened to be Jay’s turn and Scott was doing his best to ignore the awful sounds.
Jay had the classic looks of a television anchorman. His thick brown hair, even in a wind, always seemed to be in perfect order, and his brown eyes were full, almost doelike. Cameras loved him, but television station executives hadn’t liked his attitude so far. He wanted to be in charge and usually acted as if he knew everything. It was the worst attitude a young anchor could have, forcing Jay to remain in the lower levels of the industry, looking for that big break that would jump him up. So far, he hadn’t found it.
Scott was the opposite of Jay. He worked simply for the money, running cameras and equipment because it was easy for him to do. His true love was his art, a complex mix of pottery and sculpture that hadn’t sold, as of yet. But every spare minute he kept at it, knowing his work would someday be discovered. In the meantime he worked at the station and did his best to avoid trips like this one with Jay.
This trip would make him avoid any that required a lot of driving. Next time he would insist on flying. The Best of the Bee Gees was bad enough, but when it was combined with Frampton Comes Alive and Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits, it made the experience into a seventies flashback that was driving Scott crazy. He was trying to counter it with Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, and Hole, but somehow that didn’t annoy Jay. Although he would find reasons to stop more often when Scott’s music was on.
Scott could use a stop now. It had been over two hours and the warm Diet Coke he had bought south of here was long gone. All he wanted was a meal and a place to sleep—even though he knew he suspected the Brothers Gibb, and not Courtney Love, would be providing the soundtrack for tonight’s dreams.
Jay had picked Agate off a New Mexico map as the place to stop. It was one of the few towns near Cole Army Base. Scott sincerely hoped that Agate wasn’t one of those one-horse towns so common in the high desert. He really didn’t want to backtrack.
They were going to try to get inside army lines around Cole Army Base. Jay needed footage, and he brought Scott, who’d actually had some journalism experience under combat conditions in the Gulf. That was before he decided to concentrate on his art. He wished Jay didn’t know about it, though. Jay figured that if Scott had gotten behind military lines in the Gulf, where the restrictions were tough, he’d be able to do the same in the States. The problem was that Jay wanted Scott to take him along for the ride.
Scott suspected that they wouldn’t get in, but he didn’t know how to tell Jay. He was waiting until they pulled into Agate before he broached the topic.
Although, he had to admit, the next day wasn’t his highest priority at the moment. It had been bothering him that they hadn’t se
en any traffic for hours now. Jay had explained it away simply: Would you want to drive to the site of a recent explosion? But Scott didn’t buy it. After all, tons of folks drove to see the mess after the Oklahoma City bombing, and that was before they knew what caused it. They should have been passing a small contingent of sickos, wackos, and the unrelentingly curious. And then, added to that, the dramatic outpouring of cars they had seen that morning—cars with everything from chairs to bed frames tied to their hoods—made it all seem more dangerous than they had anticipated.
Scott didn’t like this. And, as they reached the edge of Agate, and didn’t see anyone moving in the streets, he liked it even less.
“Man, this place looks like it’s been abandoned,” Scott said, turning down the music as Jay slowed to Agate’s posted thirty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit.
“It’s only a little past nine,” Jay said. “Even these local yokels don’t roll up the sidewalks this early.”
The sidewalks, hell. The sidewalks had debris on them: dolls, bits of clothing, loose papers. The streets were completely empty.
“No cars,” Scott said, his voice suddenly very soft. “There aren’t any cars anywhere.”
“Shit,” Jay said, looking both left and right, staring into the night. “You’re right.”
The door of a place called Ben’s Saloon was swinging back and forth in the slight wind. It was an eerie look, like someone was still there, trying to get in and out.
“This town has been abandoned,” Scott said. “Why?”
“And there’s our story,” Jay said, pounding on the steering wheel with his fist and laughing. “We fell right into it.”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “That’s one perspective.” He could think of a hundred others. Like the fact that he should have been paying more attention to his feelings on that empty highway.
“You know,” Scott said, “there are times you’ve got to trust your gut.”
“My gut says that this is a story we can sell to the network,” Jay said.
“Maybe,” Scott said. “But the entire town’s abandoned. Don’t you think the network would have been here for a story like that? CNN would have.”
“If they knew,” Jay said.
“Yeah. That’s another perspective.”
“You keep saying that,” Jay snapped. “Why?”
“Because,” Scott said, “even the network would keep its reporters away from a place giving off high levels of radiation.”
“Nah,” Jay said, brushing aside Scott’s comment with a wave of his hand, like brushing away a fly. He slowed the car down to a crawl to stare at the abandoned storefronts. “I checked the winds over Cole and they’re all heading the other direction. Even if there was radiation, it wouldn’t be coming here.”
“So why is everyone gone?” Scott asked.
“When we know that,” Jay said, “we have our story.”
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Scott caught movement. He slowed the car to almost a crawl between the two-story buildings that lined the main street of Agate. “Did you see something?”
Jay stared in the direction Scott was looking, then shook his head. “Nothing.” Then Jay laughed. “You must be seeing ghosts or—”
A huge creature jumped from out of the shadows, landing right in front of the red sports car.
“Holy jumping shit!” Jay shouted.
“Get us out of here!” Scott yelled.
Jay slammed his foot on the gas, sending the car fishtailing ahead, around the monster, who just stood there, staring at them through a helmetlike face mask. Scott got a sense of broad strength and power and incredible size before he turned his head back to see why the damn car was fishtailing. The back end of the car spun wide, then Jay recovered and the car shot ahead.
“What was that?” Scott shouted He glanced around, but the creature was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly the creature jumped in front of the car again. The thing was huge. And it had talons.
“How in the hell did it do that?” Jay shouted as he swerved the car to the right, jumping up on the curb to miss the creature. The rear of the car clipped a garbage can and Jay fought to keep it accelerating ahead.
Scott was bracing himself against the dash. In all his years he hadn’t been this scared. He wished he were driving. He could at least get them out of there.
“Don’t hit that thing!” he yelled.
“I won’t!” Jay screamed back.
“And don’t stop!” Scott squinted. The creature was gone.
“Why the hell would I stop?” Jay yelled.
Again the creature landed in front of the car.
“Shit!” Jay shouted, yanking the car to the right, just barely missing the creature. The sports car bumped up onto the curb, and before Jay could get it back under control, it plowed into a light pole and mailbox, sending letters spraying into the hot air like snowflakes.
The air bags on both sides instantly inflated, saving both Jay and Scott’s lives. But before either of them had a chance to react, a clawed fist smashed through the driver’s-side window and grabbed Jay.
Scott watched in shock as his companion was yanked like a toy through the window and smashed down onto the hood of the car. A moment later the creature had cut off Jay’s head and held it up to the sky, as if presenting tribute to some unseen god.
In the headlights of the car, Scott could see the shock frozen on Jay’s face, the sudden meeting with death in his eyes. It was not a look Scott would soon forget.
If he lived long enough to have time to remember anything. He didn’t know if it was better to get out of the car, or to try to hide inside. He was no match for that creature, and he didn’t think the car would move.
Suddenly, the street in front of Scott lit up. Through the glare he could see army humvees and a half-dozen men, all heavily armed, facing the monster.
One man stood in the rear of the lead vehicle. He was holding an antitank missile launcher. “You just bagged your last trophy,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.”
The man fired just as the creature in front of Scott jumped, Jay’s head held tightly in its hand.
The missile cleared the hood of Jay’s car by inches, missing the creature and exploding in the building behind Scott. The force of the blast sent Jay’s car rolling into the street. All Scott could do was hang on and hope the seat belt held. It did, and the car ended up on its wheels, facing the action.
The monster landed on its feet and, with a smooth move, an almost major-league-pitcher move, threw Jay’s head at the humvee. Jay’s face smashed into the windshield. The driver yanked the wheel hard sideways, rolling the vehicle and spilling the three men inside onto the concrete.
Then the creature, at impossible speed, turned and headed down the street.
“Kill that thing!” one soldier on the ground shouted as he rolled over and came up with his gun in hand.
A roar of machine-gun fire broke out, filling the canyon between the buildings with bone-jarring sound. Scott watched as the bullets tore up a nearby building, missing the creature as it leaped onto the roof and was gone.
“Hold your fire!” another voice shouted, and the intense noise stopped.
Scott couldn’t believe it was over. He just sat there, stunned, a cut on his head bleeding down his cheek, the deflated air bag draped over his legs. The lights on Jay’s car were still on, and one beam spotlighted Jay’s head, sitting upright in the middle of the street. His nose was smashed slightly, and some teeth were missing, but it looked as if every hair was still in place.
Slowly Scott started to laugh, softly, to himself as the relief flooded over him. He was still laughing—or was he crying?—as two of the soldiers came over to help him out of the car.
18
My brother, the monster slayer, has received all the training a monster slayer can have. He has learned how to protect himself, how to guard others, and when to sacrifice others. As a child, he learned all the wisdom of our people, wisdom that he i
s finally putting to use.
But those in charge do not understand. They order my brother around as if they are riding a blindfolded pony through a forest at full speed while they are blindfolded also. Such action can bring only pain, both to the rider and the pony.
Three more humvees slid to a stop between the buildings of Agate, New Mexico. They carried the colonel and a dozen other men.
Too late.
They had arrived too late.
Private Chaney wondered if that were on purpose.
He stood, weapon to his shoulder, his gaze never moving from what had been the front of a small grocery store, now riddled with bullet holes. A hardware store beside the grocery had a huge hole in the front where Corporal Nakai had shot an antitank weapon, just missing the creature. Smoke drifted from the hole like blood from a wound.
As men poured out of the newly arrived vehicles, Chaney lowered his rifle, his hands shaking. That creature had really been something. It had arms and legs like a man, yet it clearly wasn’t human. It had cleared that grocery store in a single leap, as if simply jumping over a rock.
And the creature had used a man’s head as a weapon. In his entire life, Chaney would never forget the image of that head smashing into the windshield of the humvee. There was no doubt in his mind that they were all lucky to be alive.
He forced himself to take a few deep breaths of the warm desert air. Originally he was from Boston, where the air was thick. A comforting weight that wrapped around a person and held him like a blanket holds a baby. He loved that air, and as soon as his hitch was up, he was headed back to work in his uncle’s shipping factory on the harbor. It wouldn’t be much of a job, but it would be a hell of a lot better than chasing monsters around a desert at night.
Predator - Big Game Page 10