Slowly, Enoch, slowly, he thought, over and over. He made the thought into a mantra, something that would keep him focused.
Slowly, Enoch, slowly.
With another shallow breath, Nakai backed away from the edge of the hill, never taking his gaze off the monster in front of him. He moved an inch at a time, not worrying about his speed, only about his safety.
Shallow breath, then another inch back.
The monster continued to work on the instrument panel on his arm.
Slowly, Enoch, slowly.
The monster pressed a talon against the armband.
Nakai moved another inch, took another breath.
The monster shook his arm slightly.
Nakai was just about to drop back out of the monster’s range of vision when disaster struck. A small rock near his right boot dislodged and bounced down the slope, kicking a slightly larger rock loose.
To Nakai, it sounded as if cannons had been fired in the quiet desert air.
Instantly the monster looked up, saliva dripping from its jaws, its eyes staring into the darkness. It was looking in Nakai’s direction, but Nakai wasn’t sure if he had been seen.
He certainly had been heard.
Nakai moved silently down out of the monster’s sight path, then over and behind a large rock. His only hope was that the monster couldn’t see through solid stone.
Nakai pressed himself into position against the boulder, ready to spring out at the instant the monster found him. He knew his only hope if discovered was to attack.
The monster kicked a rock loose as he climbed from his fire toward the top of the hill. But it was only a small pebble. The monster knew how to move as silently as Nakai.
To Nakai’s right there was another noise. Faint, like a man walking barefoot over a soft carpet.
Nakai’s senses were taking in everything. He could smell the rotting odor of the monster and another odor, faint, but definitely there. There had been another creature on the ridge with Nakai. Sitting as quiet as Nakai had tried to be. And now that the monster was moving, the other creature was moving.
The warm wind swirled, bringing the distinctive odor of cat to Nakai.
Puma. Big devil cat.
Nakai held himself frozen against the rock, not daring to move a muscle. He’d seen his share of the big cats over the years and had no desire to tangle with one.
As the three warriors stalked one another, the night sky seemed to swell with the intense silence of the desert night, the only background sound the slight wind in the dry brush.
The monster cleared the top of the ridge, stopping just quickly enough that Nakai could hear the sound of the heavy steps in the sand. Unless the creature could see through rock, Nakai was hidden for the moment. But with another few steps, it would see him even in the faint light.
Suddenly a low growl filled the night air. A growl so close above Nakai’s head that it sent shivers down his spine, almost forcing him to jump and run. Somehow he managed to remain still. He had learned many times from his grandfather that a warrior’s best and most valuable skill was the ability to remain unseen. At the moment his only chance of survival was being invisible.
The growl shook the desert as it grew into an angry roar, seeming to echo off the stars themselves.
The monster shifted quickly as the big cat jumped from its hiding place. Nakai could hear the struggle as the cat’s razor-sharp claws scraped against armor. Then there was a loud crunch as the cat bit into the monster, who let out an unearthly scream of anger.
Nakai glanced around the edge of the rock. The creature sprang away from the big cat, leaping a good ten feet away with seeming ease.
But the big cat, smelling the rot and the blood of its enemy wasn’t going to be stopped. It had singled out its prey and it would die taking it down if it had to. With the monster firing, the big cat again attacked, this time going for the throat.
The monster fired back, blue bolts of energy grazing the cat in mid-leap, but not stopping it. The cat’s weight was too much for the monster and the two combatants rolled in the rocks, the red blood of the cat mixing with the dark blood of the alien.
Nakai knew the outcome, knew the cat wouldn’t win. But the cat had saved his life. If Nakai moved now. Only if he moved now.
Turning from the battle, he headed down the hill at full run, not allowing himself even to glance backward. He put both hands on his water bottles, holding them in place. He didn’t want to lose them, not here, not now. If that thing came farther into the desert, the last thing Nakai wanted was to give it a trail to follow.
With that in mind, he leaped over some small rocks, made sure he varied his steps so that his footprints didn’t lead directly anywhere.
And while he did that, he ran. And as he did, he silently thanked his grandfather for all the training. All the training Nakai had rebelled against as a young boy.
Two more bolts of blue light lit up the desert, and this time it was the cat who screamed in agony.
As rapidly and as silently as he could run, Nakai headed for the distant light of the army encampment. Behind him another blue flame lit up the night, then the silence closed back in over the desert as if nothing had happened.
The battle was over. The devil cat had lost. But clearly it had taken its toll on the monster.
Never missing a step, making as little noise as possible, Nakai ran on. He now knew what his enemy looked like. And, more important, he knew his enemy could bleed.
If his enemy could be wounded, he could be killed. And Nakai wanted to be the one to do it.
15
A true hunter must know what weapons to use for each creature. A hunter does not go after a small bird with a tree stump. Or attack a running buffalo with only his fists. But even with the correct weapon, the ultimate outcome always turns on the ability of the hunter to outthink his prey.
Nakai’s heart had stopped racing and he had caught his breath long before he reached the outside perimeter of the army encampment. Before he went in, he finished off the third bottle of water, figuring after his near miss in the desert, he needed it.
The army had decided to set up their headquarters in a small valley, just above where Cole Army Base used to be. Even in the moonlight, he could see the changes: the desert glittered like a billion stars, the sand fused by the intense heat of the explosion into a field of glass globules reflecting the moon.
Nakai would have thought they’d have set up the camp farther away, but apparently those in charge knew more than he did.
He climbed silently up toward a shallow saddle among some large rocks. Two guards sat near a fire. The smell of coffee filled the night, making Nakai’s stomach rumble slightly. Except for the blue-plate special at Rosalita’s, he hadn’t had anything at all to eat for almost twelve hours. He was going to need some more food soon to replenish his strength.
Nakai moved up to a point twenty feet from the two guards. The firelight brought both their faces into clear perspective, just as the monster’s fire had illuminated him. Nakai found it strange that this fire calmed him, while the other had terrified him, even before he had seen the creature warming itself before its flames.
Nakai crouched and stared, taking in the entire scene. These two guards were the only men on this part of the perimeter.
One of the men wore black-rimmed glasses, while the other had deep-set eyes and a heavy mustache. It seemed that the one with glasses was supposed to be walking post, but had stopped for the moment. A moment was just enough time for Nakai to get through easily.
“Say, Figueras,” the one with glasses said, kneeling by the fire. “How about another cup of Java? I got more than an hour to go and I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
“You’re still on watch, Private,” the one sitting by the fire said, his voice deep and strong. “The major will kill you if he sees you off post.”
“Man, I can hardly stay awake enough to walk,” the man in glasses said just as Nakai moved past them, silently cre
eping through the dark night toward the camp below. “Besides, that’s a bomb crater over there. People died there, and they don’t know exactly what kind of weapon caused it. Ain’t no one in his right mind who’d want to be within miles of this spot.”
Nakai completely agreed with the private. No sane person would want to be here. But at the moment he knew he was far from sane. There was a monster out there in that desert and that monster had to be dealt with. His run-in with it only increased his respect for it—and his determination to wipe it off the planet.
Gradually the guards’ voices faded. Nakai moved along the edge of the blast crater, keeping down. It was harder to walk here, harder to keep silent. The terrain was forever altered by that explosion. He didn’t even want to think about the toxins or other bomb residue he was exposing himself to. He would worry about that later. Right now he would comfort himself with the thought that the army wouldn’t place tents so close to a dangerous site.
Yeah. Right.
It took him about ten minutes to reach the camp. No one saw him. No one tried to stop him. For that, he was relieved, and a bit worried. If they didn’t see him, a man who couldn’t make himself invisible, they would never be able to see the monster. That creature had better stealth capabilities than anything the Department of Defense designed.
As Nakai made his way through the tents, he noted their configuration. Anyone who understood the army would know automatically where the colonel’s tent would be. Anyone who understood the army knew, of course, that a colonel would be the man with the highest rank here. Anytime there was danger, the army would send in a colonel to secure the place before risking the generals.
The colonel’s tent was right where Nakai thought it would be. The tent was larger than all the others, of course. It had three sentries on post around it, and inside, a meeting was going on, the light casting odd shadows on the tent. Nakai moved past one sentry without making a sound. The sentry was so oblivious he didn’t even notice Nakai’s movement in the dark. The army should have its guards trained by men like his grandfather, not the rigid officers who ran the boot camps. The officers created grunts. Nakai’s grandfather had taught survival.
Nakai cut along the edge of the tent. From inside, he could hear voices, some clearer than others. One voice broke over the rest. “I understand what you’re saying, sir. The Geiger counters all show very low radiation readings at ground zero, but I’m still hesitant to send men in.”
Nakai nodded to himself. That explained why the camp was so close. The monster’s explosion had carried very little radiation with it. He felt more relief than he wanted to acknowledge.
The voice went on. “I believe our aerial photographs make it clear that a powerful weapon of some sort was used on the base. A closer inspection is unlikely to yield more data at this time.”
“I disagree, Major,” another voice said as Nakai neared the front flap of the tent. This voice was deeper and clearly carried more authority. “We’re still operating in the dark here, and any bit of information we can glean from the blast site is of the utmost importance.”
Nakai took a deep breath. It was time for him to tell his story. He hoped they would listen to him before they arrested him.
He stepped toward the light coming from the tent and went under the open flap. He put his hands up and in clear view for good measure.
“Begging the colonel’s pardon, sir,” Nakai said as he walked all the way inside.
There were five men in the large tent and four of them instantly drew pistols, aiming them at him. Only the bald-headed colonel sitting at a paper-covered table didn’t move.
Nakai stopped, waiting. The interior of the tent smelled of sweat, fear, and cigarette smoke.
“How’d you get in here?” a major with red hair barked, his gun not wavering.
“I walked into camp, sir,” Nakai said. “And the door to the tent was open.”
“All right, son,” the colonel said. “Slowly step into the light and identify yourself.” Then, glancing around at the four guns leveled at Nakai, he added, “And if I were you, I’d make sure my hands remained visible.”
Nakai stepped forward and snapped to attention. “Corporal Enoch Nakai, sir. Permanently stationed at Cole—until yesterday, that is.”
The colonel rose and moved around the table toward Nakai, motioning for the others to put away their weapons. “You mean to tell me you managed to escape that blast?”
“I had a three-day pass, sir,” Nakai said.
“Then why in God’s name did you come back here?” The colonel was only inches from him.
“Because, sir, they sent me away. They felt I knew too much.”
“Knew too much?” The colonel’s eyes narrowed. “You knew that this blast was going to happen?”
One of the men brought his gun back up.
“No, sir,” Nakai said, keeping his eye on the gun. “But I know what caused it.”
“You do?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakai said. “I was there when they brought the craft in, and I’ve seen the pilot.”
“Craft? Pilot?” the colonel said. He turned to the major. “Has anyone thought to look through the last few days of reports sent to headquarters from Cole?”
The major looked perplexed, then motioned to a corporal, who hurriedly left the tent.
“We’d been operating under the assumption that some of Cole’s own equipment malfunctioned,” the colonel said. “At least, we were hoping that happened. Are you saying this was a terrorist act?”
“It’s not that simple, sir,” Nakai said.
The colonel nodded, as if pieces he hadn’t understood were beginning to come together. He pushed the officer’s gun down and pulled out a chair. “Son, it looks as if you have a story to tell us about this explosion.”
“I do, sir,” Nakai said. “But believe me, sir, the blast that destroyed the base is the least of our problems.”
16
My twin bother is Nayenezgani, the monster slayer. He learned his art at our grandfather’s knee. Our grandfather taught him many things: how to track through the desert; how to remain hidden; and how to lure a monster. This last is important. Before the monster can be slain, it must be found. Sometimes a good hunter must use bait to lure the monster into the light. A good hunter never worries about the well-being of his bait.
The sun broke over the bubbled, glasslike plain that had been Cole Army Base. The cool morning air felt refreshing, but Nakai knew the coolness wouldn’t last long. He ran a hand through his buzz-cut hair and stretched. He was doing remarkably well for a man who had traveled across a desert in the heat of the day. It felt good to unburden himself, finally, to people who believed him.
Last night it had taken him over two hours to explain everything that had happened, from Dietl’s death to the fight between the monster and the big cat. In the middle of his story, the major returned with faxed documents in his hands. They were copies of the reports filed in Washington during the last night of Cole Army Base. It was strange to see Sergeant Coates’s name and Colonel Athelry’s signature. Neither man would bother him anymore. Strangely, Nakai was not glad for that. He wouldn’t miss them, but he was sorry that they had died. He only hoped their deaths had been quick.
The faxes had arrived at the critical point in Nakai’s retelling. The colonel had stopped, read the documents, and said only, “It seems that you weren’t the only one who found this craft unusual. Washington sent in some of our top brains to decipher what in the hell it was.”
“Had they arrived?” Nakai asked, afraid he knew the answer.
The colonel nodded, then set the faxes down. He had gazed out the open door at the crater. So many lives, gone in an instant. After a moment’s reflection, the colonel had signaled Nakai to continue.
He had complied, talking for another hour. Then he ended his story by telling the colonel that he could track the pilot of the alien craft through the desert. He would need a vehicle, weapons, and a few extra men and nothi
ng more. Much to Nakai’s surprise, the colonel had agreed to the plan, ordering Major Lee to lead it and help Nakai.
Nakai glanced around the encampment, then headed for the staging area, where the humvees waited for him. How different it was to have a colonel who believed him implicitly, who listened to everything he said. Nakai only wished that it had come about some other way.
Six short hours after Nakai had told his story, everything was ready. Even that surprised him. He had expected it to take more time. But the colonel had understood everything, especially the urgency.
There had been a late-night planning session, and then Nakai was given his own tent to bunk in. He hadn’t managed to get any sleep, but he had rested. He knew he wouldn’t sleep until the monster was dead. Or he was.
Nakai stepped up to the back of one humvee and picked out an M-16, slinging it over his shoulder. The only other thing he grabbed was a full canteen. Those bottles of water had saved him, but they had certainly been awkward.
“Ready, Corporal?” Major Lee asked as he walked up to the humvee. His face was red from the desert sun, as if he had already spent too much time outside. Nakai didn’t want to tell him that he might be wise to get some suntan lotion on that pale skin. But it was Lee’s pale skin. He should have known the damage the desert sun wrought on white men.
“Ready, sir,” Nakai said.
“Then let’s do it.”
Nakai nodded. He knew the other men thought this part of the plan strange, but Nakai had insisted. He had to go on foot. Traveling any other way would obscure what tracks he had made the night before. The humvees would follow, for backup and for a hasty getaway.
Without another word, Nakai turned and started up the slope. His muscles were stiff from his walk the day before, but he figured it wouldn’t take much to loosen them. As he headed across the desert, he reflected on how much easier it was to travel when he didn’t have to worry about being silent. He backtracked his path from the night before, realizing that he needn’t have worried about not finding it. The memory of his trek was so clear to him that he recognized every bit of scrub.
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