Hunter

by S. J. Bryant

  The minutes ticked slowly by. She pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it into the bowstring. She had practiced with the weapon before, but she would have felt more comfortable with her plasma pistol. It would slow the lecheons down if she was forced to fire it, but it wouldn't stop them. She didn't let fear enter her mind. There was no room for it.

  A small part of her said that she could leave. She was just a hired mercenary and she could go without pay; no harm done. But she knew she couldn't. She'd promised to help Briggles and his forces and she'd be damned if she was caught lying. Besides, what were a few lecheons? Nothing. She'd faced far worse; that was for sure. Her mind traced back over her time as a bounty hunter. There were definitely tighter situations she'd managed to get out of.

  "Nearly there," Briggles said into his radio. His voice travelled through the air to Nova's ears and she nodded. The sun was almost gone; its last light glinting at the very edges of the containers, taking any warmth along with it.

  Nova shivered and cursed. If there was anything she needed it was a steady hand. She forced her arms to stabilise, resting them on the shipping container where she could. The arrow was still relaxed in the bowstring. Nearly time.

  As the last of the light disappeared, the area exploded with a terrible screeching. It echoed from every corner of the yard; yelling, squealing, screaming. These were alien noises but all too soon they were joined by human screams.

  "Lights!" Briggles yelled.

  At his command massive searchlights were flung on and they flooded the yard with light. More screams.

  They weren't supposed to come until eleven; it was only seven at the latest. Nova cursed. Of course they knew that the police force would be there early. It was a surprise attack. She just hoped that the officers on the ground weren't too shocked and were holding their guns at the ready.

  Nova's eyes roved around the area. Three containers away she caught sight of a lecheon. It was scratching at its eyes and stumbling away from the searchlights. In its blindness it ran into the side of a container. It screamed as its fingers curled into claws and clutched at its face.

  Nova grabbed a firm hold of her arrow and pulled it back. The string went taught. She levelled the shaft against her cheek and looked down its length, targeting the creature's back.

  She let fly.

  The wooden arrow screamed as the wind blew past its flight feathers and thudded into the lecheon's back.

  The bowstring twanged back into place as the lecheon fell forward. He writhed on the ground, kicking and screaming. His back arched as he tried to reach around, to pull the arrow out, but his arms couldn't make it. His head and neck twisted to breaking point as he screamed.

  Nova couldn't help but watch. The creature writhed on the ground for what felt like hours. The gravel beneath him became covered in blood, not just from the wound in his back but also from the cuts and grazes on his arms and chin as he thrashed around. His face scraped along the gravel leaving behind streams of skin.

  He convulsed a final time, before collapsing into stillness. Dead.

  Nova tore her eyes away and surveyed the rest of the scene. Her stomach sunk. She had expected to see more lecheons cowering away towards the darkness, easy targets. Instead she was confronted with at least twenty of them marching directly towards her. They were wearing tinted goggles. Their entire bodies were covered with long sleeves, gloves and hoods, so that not an inch of skin was exposed to the bright lights.

  Her heart pumped faster in her chest. Of course they'd come prepared. They had chosen this place for a reason, even if Nova hadn't figured that reason out yet. They had attacked early, knowing that the police force would be there. They had equipment to protect them against bright lights. She and Briggles had been stupid in their preparations. They had underestimated the lecheons and it could prove fatal.

  "Take out the ones with goggles," Briggles roared into his radio.

  In response, guns fired from the tops of containers, shots echoing. Wooden bullets whizzed through the air. The lecheon at the end of the approaching group collapsed. The others stepped over his body and kept walking.

  Nova pulled an arrow from behind her back, stringed it and pulled it to her cheek. She aimed at the approaching lecheons and let fly. The arrow flew true and lodged into the chest of the centre lecheon. He clutched at it, but didn't have the strength or the time to pull it out before he collapsed to the ground; another corpse.

  The lecheons advanced.

  "Grishnak!" Nova cursed.

  She was beginning to see why they'd chosen the container yard. The big metal boxes made it impossible to keep the group in her sights. The lecheons disappeared in and out of the rows of containers, creating a constant source of cover from almost all angles. She got off a few more lucky shots but by then they were close. Too close.

  "Briggles, we have to—" Nova began. She slammed her mouth shut when a spotlight flicked off and plunged the yard into darkness.

  She whirled around to the closest spotlight. While they had been focusing on the approaching group, other lecheons had come around the sides. They clambered up to the spotlights and smashed them with pieces of piping.

  Crash.

  Another light went out and hurled another section into darkness.

  Nova whipped an arrow out and aimed it at the lecheon about to destroy the light closest to her. She didn't have time to aim properly but she released the arrow anyway. It sailed through the air and struck the lecheon in his forearm. He howled and whipped his head up.

  He glared at her with eyeless hatred, his goggles hiding his real features. He gnashed his teeth at her and ripped the arrow out of his arm. It left a tear in his long sleave. He tossed the arrow over the side of his container and stared at Nova the whole time, as he lifted his metal pipe and smashed it into the light.

  He was suddenly shrouded in darkness.

  Nova's mind raced. He would be coming for her, no doubt about it. He would want her death as his revenge. Only two spotlights still lit the scene and they were far from her. As her eyes adjusted she found she could just make out the shape of the container she was lying on. The lecheon approaching her would be able to see much more.

  Or would he?

  Nova's mind raced. He'd been wearing tinted glasses to protect his eyes from the bright spotlights. If he was going to see in the dark again he would have to take the glasses off. But then he would be vulnerable to light.

  This last thought shot through Nova's mind just as a heavy weight landed on her back. The air rushed out of her lungs and her chin smashed against the container. Her tongue caught between her teeth and blood swelled through her mouth. The sudden collision caused her to drop her bow, which scattered away to her right.

  She rolled over so that the weight was on her stomach and stared desperately into the darkness above. Sharp teeth shone in the semi-darkness.

  The lecheon's arms swung through the air, trying to grab hold of her hands and pin them down. She refused to be caught. She thrashed out with her fists, smashing them into every part of him that she could reach. He grunted as she landed a fist into his stomach but he didn't stop.

  Nova's mind raced. The arrows were pinned behind her back. The wooden knife was in her boot which was out of reach while the creature thrashed on top of her. She scrambled her hand across the metal surface of the container. There had to be something, anything. Her hand brushed over the radio Briggles had given her as a backup, and her bow which she dropped when she had been tackled. There!

  Nova clasped the thick plastic and pressed the button. She swung her arm up just as the torch burst into life. It shone a bright beam of light directly into the lecheon's eyes. He cried out with pain and clutched at his face. He fell back from her, his weight lifting from her stomach and allowing her to breathe.

  She wasted no time. She kept the beam pinned on the lecheon's face while she jumped to her feet and plunged her hand into the quiver at her back. She fell forward and without a second thought she thrust
the arrow into the lecheon's neck. It pierced through skin, muscle, and bone until it protruded out the other side and collided with the metal container, scraping like fingernails on a blackboard.

  The lecheon screamed even louder, but it had been replaced by a wet gurgle. Blood surged out around the arrow and poured out of the lecheon's mouth. His eyes widened, staring, as he looked at Nova with a mixture of hatred and disbelief. He lifted his hands in a desperate attempt at defence before laying still.

  Nova didn't have time to feel sick at the blood staining her hands. The sounds of attack were everywhere. Good men and women were dying all around her, and she couldn't see a damn thing!

  She ripped the arrow out of the lecheon's throat. They were too precious to waste. She turned around but all she could make out was the end of her own container. The other spotlights had gone out and the entire yard was plunged into utter darkness. It was time for Plan B.

  "Cal, turn on Crusader's lights," she thought. Her mental chip relayed the message to Cal.

  "Aye, aye," Cal replied.

  An engine whirred overhead and the shipping yard was thrust into light once again. This time more lecheons collapsed to the ground, clutching their eyes. Their tinted goggles hung uselessly around their necks.

  Nova notched the bloody arrow and shot it down at a writhing lecheon. Before the lecheon had time to die Nova was already moving on to the next one. She pulled another arrow, aimed and fired. Another lecheon fell to the ground. Around her, her human companions were regaining their ground. In the bright light the lecheons were next to defenceless.

  "Nova?" Cal's voice said in her head.

  "Yes?" Nova said through gritted teeth as she pulled another arrow from behind her back. How many was that? Eight? Her mind raced. There were still a lot of lecheons down on the ground and even as they screamed, they pulled their goggles back over their faces.

  "Our scanners are picking up a large vessel. They have their guns locked on us and it appears they plan to shoot," Cal replied.

  "Grishnak!" Nova swore. "Take evasive action, but don't you dare take that light off us. If it goes dark for even a second I will take you apart myself, piece by piece."

  "Message received," Cal replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "This is it, everyone," Corvus announced.

  He had recovered remarkably after the dose of blood Selene had given him. His muscles surged with new strength and the agony in his chest was now a dull ache. He wouldn't lead the attack, but he could still fight. Besides, he had a score to settle.

  "Those without goggles, try to protect your faces. There is almost no doubt that they will have some kind of lighting equipment. Don't be surprised when it comes on," Corvus said. "Those with goggles, take out the lights as quickly as you can. The humans are useless in the dark."

  His coven nodded back and fingered the goggles hanging around their necks. There hadn't been enough time to get a pair for everyone, especially with the new recruits from Byzant's coven, but it would have to do. Their eyes would burn, but as long as they kept their wits about them, they would survive.

  "Remember, if we take out the bitch and the Inspector, the others will probably turn and run. They'll have no chance of stopping us." Corvus said. "Now go!"

  The coven leapt into action. They ran up the main ramps which surrounded the shipping yard. These tunnels had been specifically designed for escape. The containment yard was perfect. The labyrinth meant that his people could approach the pitiful humans from all directions and surround them.

  Corvus nodded as his people disappeared up into the air. He pulled his own goggles up over his eyes and lifted his dark hood. His right side was strapped and bandaged, pinning his arm to his chest, but that didn't matter. He would kill the bitch with her own gun. He held the ancient thing in his left hand, his glove protecting him from the nasty wood he could feel just below.

  He glided up the nearest ramp just as the spotlights flashed on. He nodded to himself; they were doing just what he expected. Unlike his companions who were attacking with full force, Corvus crept along the edges of the compound. He kept to the far line of containers, the ones right up against the wire fence which surrounded the area. He crept between shadows, casting his gaze up to see if there were enemies lurking above.

  His strapped chest hampered his movement. But he would make her pay; oh, he would make her pay. She would be near the centre, in the middle of the action; of that he could be sure. If he came up behind her, she'd have no idea until it was too late. He was breathing deeply; his body hadn't recovered from the poison and his muscles ached even with the mild walk.

  The goggles were insufferable. The way they pressed down on his cheeks and nose was painful and they blocked his peripheral vision. He felt like he'd become blind on either side and had to keep turning his head to make sure the pitiful humans weren't sneaking up on him. Still, it was better than being blinded by the damned spotlights.

  Crash.

  Corvus smiled as a portion of the yard was thrust into darkness. Human screams erupted from the shadows, making his pulse race with excitement.

  The last of the lights went out in a shower of broken glass and Corvus was surrounded by darkness. He lowered the goggles from his eyes and the world opened up around him. Everything had a green tinge, but he could see it all as clear as day.

  Up ahead, on top of a container stood a human. He peered into the darkness around him, his hand clutched around a gun, panicked. Corvus could hear the man's erratic heartbeat. He could almost feel the blood surging through the man's body. It wouldn't be as good as a young girl, but it would still be tasty and exactly what he needed after his injury.

  Corvus crept up to the container on silent feet. The man had no idea that his death was lurking just beneath. He spun in desperate circles, panting with fear. Corvus smiled and bent his legs. He thrust the small gun into the pouch at his waist. It would be harder with only one arm but not impossible. He crouched low and sprung up towards the edge of the container, his good arm grabbing hold. He used the momentum of his leap to haul himself over the top.

  The clang of Corvus's landing alerted the man. He backed away from the edge and pointed his gun in Corvus's general direction.

  Corvus's nose curled. He could smell the fear; it dripped out of the man with every drop of sweat. It was such a shame that fear always made the blood taste bitter. He didn't waste a second longer and rushed from the edge of the container. He ran at an angle, out of the line of fire. He crashed into the human and they both fell onto the metal container.

  The gun went off but the wooden bullet sailed past Corvus's head. It was too late. Corvus slammed the man's hand onto the metal, making him let go of the gun. It scattered out of arm's reach.

  Corvus buried his face into the man's neck. The black leach extended out of Corvus's mouth and began to suck. The blood was so fresh and warm; it slid down Corvus's throat like ecstasy. He grinned as the tangy iron filled his mouth, his throat, his stomach. The strength of fresh blood filled his muscles and slowed his breathing. It dulled the pain in his chest even further.

  The man struggled, but Corvus's hand over his mouth stopped him from screaming. He thrashed with his arms and legs for the first few moments, until the blood was drained out of them. Finally, his face went pale, his eyes becoming wide and glassy, and then he was dead.

  Corvus sucked every last drop of blood out of the man until he was just a flaky corpse and got to his feet with a grin. He glanced down at his prey one last time before surveying the rest of the yard. His people were everywhere, taking down the humans as they spun in their stupid circles.

  He saw an officer on the ground and recognised him immediately. He'd had a gun with wooden bullets at the police station; he'd killed Geya. Corvus snarled; he'd get revenge.

  Corvus leapt off of his container and pounced on the unwary officer. They both tumbled to the ground. Corvus ripped the night-vision goggles from the man's face and tossed them away. The man punched Corv
us in the ribs.

  Corvus grunted and rolled away. His side flared with pain; the bastard had got him right on his injury. The officer patted the ground in search of his goggles. Corvus strode over and laid his boot against the officer's neck.

  "You've killed good lecheons."

  "There's no such thing."

  "I'll make you pay."

  "Just try it."

  The officer's hand whipped to his belt and pulled up a gun. Corvus snarled as the scent of wood and deadly sap poured out of the weapon. He lifted his foot and slammed it into the officer's neck.

  The bones snapped with an audible crack, the officer's lifeless body lying at an awkward angle.

  Corvus kicked the dead body twice. He spat onto the corpse and leapt up the nearest container. His injured side twinged with the effort, but he ignored it. There was someone else he needed to get revenge on; someone much more deserving.

  He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils.

  There! He had her scent and spun towards it. She was on top of a container, wrestling with someone, who was it?

  Winton.

  Corvus recognised his companion just as the bitch shoved an arrow through his throat. Winton convulsed and collapsed, dead.

  Anger boiled in Corvus's stomach. That woman had to die. She had killed too many of them, worst of all Laticia. She had killed his beloved Laticia, and she would pay.

  Corvus stepped back and made a run for the edge of the container, meaning to leap to the next. Just as he got to the edge a new light flashed on and surged into his eyes. Blinded, he stumbled at the edge. He leapt with as much strength as he could muster, reaching his hands out to cushion his fall.

  Instead of landing on top of the next container, Corvus slammed into its side. His arm was crushed between his body and the wall and his face and teeth smashed against the metal. He cried out but could do nothing more than let his body fall blindly to the ground where his legs crumpled beneath him.

  The pain in his arm and chest was unbearable. It surged anew with the impact; even his recent feedings couldn't take away the pain. He tasted blood but not the type he enjoyed; this was stony blood, his own, leaking from his cracked lip. He rolled into a crouch, gasping for breath as each beat of his heart carried more pain through his body.