The Predator and The Prey

by K. C. Sivils

  Figuring I needed to defrost, I stopped and turned around. It would take a good twenty minutes to walk back to Joe’s for a cup of coffee. Another thirty or so minutes and I would be warm enough to go to my place and clean up. It would leave me with enough time to make it to my hearing on time.

  I wasn’t looking forward to it. The shoot was good, but somehow I just knew the fix was in. The best I could hope for was suspension without pay for a couple of weeks, another black mark on my record.

  I wasn't paying attention to much of anything, just trying not to slip on a patch of ice or run into someone emerging from the fog when I spotted my mystery girl. I got a bad feeling the minute my cyborg eye zeroed in on her. She was moving fast like she was running from something.

  A quick scan of the area with my cybernetic eye and I spotted what had spooked her. A long black shape glided down the street in silence, following her. It was a Hovertron X-1110.

  It made a hard left down a street at the intersection, and its running lights were gone. Absorbed by the ever present, thick fog that swallowed everything like a black hole. I didn’t even look before I sprinted across the street to follow.

  HE SMILED. SHE HAD finally made a mistake. It was about time too. Only six hours remained before he had to leave Beta Prime. A wall made of stacked cargo containers, converted into a building, sealed off the road. His prey had run down a dead end street. The Cowboy turned sharply, bringing the Hovertron perpendicular to the walls on either side of the alleyway, effectively sealing his prey in the trap.

  Taking his time, the Cowboy eased out of the Hovertron. He ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his coat. Reaching into the vehicle, he retrieved his cane. He twisted the shaft and tugged firmly, pulling the long blade from its sim-wood sheath. The blade shone in the light from his Hovertron, the razor sharp edge, clean of any blood from his previous kills, reflected the light, piercing the fog and shining on the plastisteel walls surrounding the car.

  Another twist of the band of metal on the cane and the oddly shaped star on the end of the handle of his cane began to warm up. It would soon be hot enough to burn flesh, leaving his tell tale brand.

  “My pretty, where are you,” he taunted. “There is nowhere for you to run now. Why don’t you be a good pretty and come play?”

  “Stay away from me,” a feminine voice snarled from the foggy shadows.

  “Now, now, that’s no way to talk to the Cowboy. I’m going to make you famous.”

  “I don’t want to be famous. I prefer to be left alone,” a voice hissed from the dark.

  Tired of the verbal play, the Cowboy slashed the air with his sword cane. “That is not up to you my pretty one. The prey makes no decisions once cornered. No decisions other than how hard to fight before the end comes. Now, are you going to make this hard for yourself my pretty? My special pretty one?”

  "Touch me, and you'll pay for it," the voice said, the words drifting out of the fog. Again the Cowboy slashed the air with his razor sharp, gleaming blade. The breeze responded, blowing a strong gust of freezing wind down the blind alley, driving the fog to the sides and down toward the street beneath the monster’s feet. Standing in the corner, her back to the walls, each hand pressed against the pastisteel behind her stood Sarah.

  Shaking from adrenaline and fear, she glanced around her surroundings, taking in every detail, considering every possibility to escape the trap she found herself caught in.

  Slashing the freezing air before him, the Cowboy smiled. There was nothing cheerful or happy about the smile. It was nothing more than the overflowing of evil desire to harm another living creature. Menace and bad intentions flowed from the clenched teeth and barely parted lips.

  “Time to play my pretty one!” In a blinding flash, the predator lunged forward, slashing downwards. The razor sharp edge made contact with Sarah’s left forearm, slicing through her coat sleeve and shirt beneath, revealing the pale soft flesh. So clean was the cut, it took a moment for the wound to open and blood to begin to flow.

  Recovering his balance, the Cowboy watched Sarah. If she felt any pain from the first incision, she didn’t show it. He smiled at her again, this time with pleasure. He would have fun with the special one after all.

  THE ALLEY, FILLED WITH fog, was dark, black and foreboding. I adjusted my right eye to account for the fog and low levels of visible light. In the distance, I was barely able to make out two glowing red lights.

  It had to be the Hovertron’s running lights.

  I could hear what sounded like voices talking in the distance. I pulled my .50 cal from its holster, holding it at the ready. With the fog and virtually no light, I couldn’t just fire the weapon at the first sound I heard. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, I continued slowly moving toward the two glowing red lights, looking all the world like a pair of demonic eyes of a monster glowering back at me.

  A scream followed by a whimper of pain escaped the grasp of the fog as the wind blew hard, pushing the fog out of the way. I saw a well-dressed man on the other side of the hovercar, holding what appeared to be a long bladed weapon of some sort. Beyond him, cowering in the corner was my mystery girl. Blood was pouring from her left forearm, dripping onto the frozen pavement below. The right side of her face bore a long slash. Running from her refined nose, just beneath the eye, across the cheek toward the jawline, ending near her ear.

  Eyes wide in terror and shaking from adrenaline, she charged the predator. It was an act of desperation motivated by overwhelming fear. I watched in horror as the blade struck, slicing across her abdomen. As quickly as she launched the attack, I watched her back away. Wiping her hand across her freshest wound, she glanced down to see blood on her fingers.

  I sighted my weapon at the monster and cocked it. The sound of the hammer locking split the air like a thunder strike. Before I could fire, the monster reacted and slipped behind Sarah, grasping her around the throat while pointing his blade in my direction. Wisely, the creature kept most of his head behind Sarah’s preventing me from getting off a clean shot, even with my precision aim.

  “Drop it!”

  “Why,” I said calmly. I looked into Sarah’s eyes. I saw the same terror and pleading I had seen in her sisters. If I had to die to save her life, I would.

  “I will slit my pretty’s throat if you don’t,” the monster said calmly.

  “Just so I know,” I answered, “would I happen to be talking to the Cowboy himself?”

  “You would,” the prideful reply came. “So you know I’ll do it.”

  “If I put my weapon down, what will you do for me?”

  "This is not a negotiation," the Cowboy raged back. "You are like all the others who never appreciated my skill, my contributions to our little enterprise! I am a super predator, and I will be treated as such! I am sick and tired of not receiving the respect I am entitled!”

  “Look now,” I answered as calmly as possible. When dealing with an armed predator who is cornered and has a hostage it pays to stay calm. "Why don't you let her go? I'll put my weapon down and then, then we'll see who's the best, you or me?"

  “Really? You think you can challenge me?”

  "You've already cut her. She won't get far, and you'll have a blood trail to follow. You can finish her later. But you won't get another crack at me, now will you? My guess is you're going to run."

  My challenge intrigued him. It would not be a particularly fair fight unless I could get what I now realized was a sword cane away from him. That or get in close enough he couldn’t do any major damage while I pounded him senseless. Regardless, it would give Sarah a chance to escape.

  “Put your weapon down now,” he finally said. “Kick it over toward my vehicle.”

  With all the sarcasm and flippancy I could muster, I challenged him again. "Well, are you going to let go of the girl or not? How many chances does someone like you get to fight a real man? One killer against another."

  "Fine," he snapped. "Once the gun is down, and you kick
it away, I'll let her go."

  “Fair enough,” I answered, “I haven’t been in a fight in a while. This won’t take me long.” I walked over to the Hovertron and gently laid my .50 revolver down on the ground, noting its exact location. Standing back up, I assumed a fighting stance, slightly crouched, back straight, hands raised and slightly extended from my sides with my chin up. He shoved the girl away from him. She wasted no time running to the Hovertron.

  "Run," I hissed at her. "Find someone, just get away from here." I barely heard the sound of her climbing over the car and running away over my heavy breathing. My opponent had assumed a fencer's stance; an arrogant smile spread from one side of his face to the other.

  “Inspector Sullivan I believe it is.”

  “That’s me.”

  “It will be a pleasure to punish you for all the trouble you have caused me, starting with my little business enterprise and now interrupting my time with the special one.”

  “Business enterprise,” I asked moving slightly toward my right and away from the blade.

  "Oh, don't be modest. It was why you had your hearing today. Do you think that pompous ass Devereaux really has the pull to cause an Inspector of your status to go before a tribunal?" The monster chuckled.

  “No, I figured something was up, you know. Like they say, the fix was in.”

  “Indeed, the fix was in. If you had just behaved yourself and pestered common petty thieves, everything would have been fine. But you couldn’t help yourself I suppose.”

  “The meds.”

  “Yes, the melanothorazine. I mean really. Miners are not people, not like me at least. Who cares if they die of that nasty miner’s cough? I certainly don’t. Especially when there is a lot of money to be made.”

  I looked in the eyes staring back at me. I was going to have a talk with Father Nathan if I survived the fight. If I hadn't believed in heaven and hell before, I did now. Evil was looking straight into my soul, and I was powerless to stop it.

  I moved quickly to my right, hoping to make the monster shift toward his left, forcing him closer to the corner behind him. The blade slashed quicker than I thought possible. My mistake cost me all four fingers on my right hand. I knew I wouldn't feel pain for a moment. When the agony came, it would be crushing, feeling like a searing flame shooting up my arm.

  Another downwards slash flashed through the air, this time directed at my left hand. Clinching my flesh coated fingers around the blade, I squeezed as hard as I could. The severed tissue detached and blood spurted on the shining cold steel. Surprise filled the demonic eyes of my opponent. Pulling back on his blade only managed to pull the blade an inch or two from my grasp.

  Lunging forward to close the gap between us, I forced the blade upwards and away, twisting it as I did so. The blade came loose from the monster's grasp and slipped from mine. As it fell, the handle struck the back of my bare left hand, burning the flesh. Stars flew before my eyes as I staggered backward, my ears ringing from a blow to the side of my head.

  Regaining my balance, I charged, striking my damaged right hand against his jaw while driving my right knee toward his abdomen. Wild hot, fire leaped up my arm where the raw, open wounds that had been my fingers came in contact with the monster's face. He deftly blocked my knee, pushing it aside. Another battering blow struck my temple, forcing me back and away from the Cowboy.

  As I regained my balance, I glanced for a second at my right hand. Blood was streaming from each stump of a severed finger. I looked up to meet the gaze of my enemy only to notice a strange expression on his face as he stared at my bloody left hand. Clinching my left fist, I raised it, drawing his eyes to it. The cybernetic fingers were fully exposed, covered in blood. The bare metal, not coated with the red substance, shone brightly, reflecting what light was available.

  The Cowboy lunged forward, grabbing my jacket as he rammed into me, knocking me backward, landing on my back. I pulled my leg up as we fell, allowing me to push upwards on impact, tossing the Cowboy over my head, landing headfirst against the wall behind me. Scrambling to my feet, I turned to face and close the gap between us.

  RUNNING AWAY FROM THE back of the alley and the terrifying monster that had trapped her, Sarah sought the comforting safety of light. Breaking out of the darkness of the dead end alley, she quickly recognized where she was. Turning to her left, Sarah sprinted down the walkway, dodging other pedestrians who stopped to stare in wonder or irritation at the slender young woman running with her long tresses flowing behind her.

  Spotting the colored lights of Joe's sign, slipping on a patch of ice just outside the door, Sarah burst through the door. Joe's two bouncers grabbed her before she fell. Noticing the commotion at his entrance, Joe hurried over, followed by Alice and Father Nathan.

  “What is going on here?” Joe demanded. “I don’t like disturbances in my joint, you understand.”

  “The big Inspector,” Sarah panted, her face still wide eyed in fear. “He’s fighting the monster. In the blind alley.”

  “Sully?” Joe asked.

  Sarah nodded, slowly drawing her finger like a knife down the right side of her face, indicating Sully’s scar.

  "You stay here," Father Nathan ordered, brushing past the frightened Sarah and the two bouncers. Gone before anyone could stop him, Father Nathan disappeared through the double door entrance and vanished into the dull, gray light of the morning.

  "Come with me honey," Alice cooed gently, trying to calm the terrified young girl. "Joe, get her a hot coffee," Alice ordered as she led Sarah to Sully's regular booth. "And call the cops while you're at it!"

  I WAS IN TROUBLE. FEW men can hold their own with me in a fair fist fight. Did I mention I don't fight fair? My right hand was useless, leaving me with just my left to batter my opponent. The Cowboy had both hands and knew how to use them, blocking my blows with ease, knowing I could only strike effectively with my left.

  “As much fun as this has been,” the smiling monster hissed, “I must end it and take my leave. Don’t worry though Inspector. I will return for her. She is far too special to let another predator take her. And know this, I will give her all the individual attention she needs and deserves when I return for her."

  I’ll never understand why it happened, but in that single moment in time, my computer replayed the few seconds of video where my one second of hesitation cost Sarah’s sister her life. I made my decision. One of us was going to leave the alley in a body bag.

  I charged the monster, leading with a right jab. The use of my right caught him by surprise as he pulled a knife from his right pocket. Staggered by the blow, the Cowboy took a step backward, fighting to regain his balance.

  I pressed my attack. From my fighter's stance, I drove my left fist forward, at arm level with my shoulder as I stepped into the punch, rotating my hip and torso while twisting my forearm for maximum power on impact. Aiming for a spot twelve inches behind the Cowboy’s head, my military grade, hardened armored fist slammed into his right cheekbone. I heard as much as I felt the bone shatter upon impact.

  The first punch was followed by a jab with my bloody right, landing square on his nose, breaking the bone and tearing cartilage. As I threw another solid punch at the Cowboy's crushed cheek, I felt the burn of a knife as it pierced first my great coat and then the flesh between my ribs by my left lung. A true predator, the Cowboy, twisted the knife, expanding the wound before he ripped his blade out.

  Blood ran from his mangled face. I could feel the warm substance running down my side. Both of us sensed the fight would end soon. Lunging forward to stab again, I grabbed the blade with my left hand without thinking. Striking a downward blow with my right arm across the Cowboy’s wrist, the knife fell to the ground.

  Panicked at being disarmed, I saw his eyes dart to the ground beneath his waiting Hovertron. He dove before I could move and reached my gun before I could stop him. Lifting the heavy kinetic weapon to aim it at me, the Cowboy fumbled with the trigger to cock the gun. I dove on top of hi
m as a roaring blast of heat and flame rushed past my left ear deafening me while singeing the skin of my ear. Straddling his chest, I drove my clinched steel fist down again, this time directly into his right eye socket.

  Like before, I aimed for a point on the other side of the Cowboy’s head. Drawing my fist back to strike again, I admired my handiwork for a split second. The cheekbone was destroyed, slivers and fragments of bone sticking out of the lacerated flesh. His eye was ruptured with fluid leaking onto the bloody mess that was his face. Mucous and blood flowed from his shattered nose, the gooey, sticky mess running into his mouth, causing him to cough.

  My next blow shattered his teeth and broke his jawbone, knocking the Cowboy unconscious. Another blow caused his head to slam against the pavement, allowing blood to run freely from the back of his skull. I rained down more blows, splitting open flesh and venting the pent up rage and despair I had locked away.

  I was only vaguely aware of a familiar voice calling to me to stop when I stood and retrieved the sword cane. Somehow I knew to twist the metal ring in the handle and waited for the lopsided star brand to heat up. Still warm from when engaged at the start of the fight, it only took seconds to glow a bright red.

  Pressing the brand against the Cowboy’s forehead, I listened as the flesh burned and sizzled. Smoke from the charred flesh wafted upwards, and I brushed it away with my hand, dropping the murderous weapon.

  It was over. Sarah was safe for now. The monster lay dead before me. I could never bring back to life the people who had lost their lives because of my mistakes. But this monster, this monster would never harm anyone again.

  As I fell forward and slammed into the ground, I was vaguely aware of a man's voice calling my name. Hands rolled me over on my back and touched my face. Someone called my name. It sounded close and far away at the same time. Warm breath pierced the bitterly cold air and touched my face. As hard as I tried to see whose face gazed down upon me, I couldn't focus my eyes. Not even my cybernetic eye. It was too much, too hard.