Hunter (62 page)

It smiled.

Strode slowly down the slope.

Only a split second for Chaney to notice the bloodied, ravaged wounds marring that monstrous strength—the bestial body, separated fangs, clutching talons. He never glanced again into the laughing red eyes that focused on him with such purity.

Raising his arm, his finger tightened on the trigger of the Casull. Then twin eruptions—or one; Chaney couldn't be sure—blazed from behind it to hurl it from the surface of the slope.

Roaring, it arched painfully in the air. And the attack it had suffered propelled it past Chaney to the cavern floor where it disintegrated in a dune of bones with a cascading, continuing crash.

Without even a backward glance it rolled, smashing a pathway through the grave mound, scattering bones that lanced the apocalyptic atmosphere like spears. Ducking away reflexively, Chaney avoided most of the projectiles before, stunned, he could turn back to target the creature.

It had vanished among the debris.

Hunter changed clips before he reached Chaney, gripping the marshal strongly by an arm.

"I'm all right," Chaney gasped. "Takakura ..."

"We know," Hunter replied without breath. His expression was heated as he glared out. "It's wounded! Just kill it on sight! Kill it like an animal!"

He moved over the skeletons. "Everybody stay close! We'll have one more—"

Rising volcanically from a mound of bones it struck out with awesome
accuracy at Hunter, and it was only the lion-like reflexes of the tracker that saved him.

Its first blow was a thunderous sweeping hand that Hunter ducked with pantherish speed. Then it struck with the other taloned hand, aiming to take his head at the shoulders but Hunter threw himself inside the blow, striking it solidly with his shoulder.

Together, fighting savagely to the death, they rolled down the skeletal slope in a whirlwind of blows and roars, each wounding and being wounded. At the base of the mound, Hunter was first to his feet, feinting a move to the left that it took, and Hunter leaped wide to the right, gaining quick distance.

Bobbi Jo fell to a knee, centering on it with the Barrett. And as it closed on Hunter she fired two more rounds that ripped wild surges of blood from high in its chest. Chaney was firing every round he had remaining in the Casull, hitting it over and over before he dove madly from the mound, rage carrying him beyond reason in the consuming heat of the battle.

It saw him descend and turned with clear contempt, a backhand sweeping out to blast him from the air like a fly. Crying out in pain, Chaney devastated a pile of bones as he exploded into a slope, sliding shocked into the skeletons.

Distracted by the marshal's meaningless attack, it raised red eyes to Bobbi Jo, who struggled to remove a jammed clip from the Barrett. Growling, it focused on her with special intensity. Then, as if in hated remembrance, it gazed downward at its body, frowning over fangs, and lifted a bloody gaze to her once more.

Bobbi Jo stared. "Oh my god  …"

Suddenly ignoring Hunter, it took its first ascending step on the mound.

Its eyes blazed with inhabited darkness, the mouth turned down in a terrible promise of doom. And, electrified by the horrifying image, Bobbi Jo tore fiercely at the magazine. But it was twisted; the metal wouldn't surrender.

She hurled the rifle in its face as it reached the crest and leaped away but its long arm lashed out, snatching her back by the hair to hurl her into a heap.

As it moved over her, hands flexing, she searched for a weapon but in a moment of horror knew there was none ...

***

Knowing the danger, Hunter rose, searching desperately for the rifle, but it was gone. He cast a single glance to see the creature cresting the mound, moving for Bobbi Jo, and then he was moving with it, climbing and reaching inside his belt for what he hoped he would never be forced to use.

He saw them together as the slope flattened and Bobbi Jo screamed, raising an arm in futile defense. The creature roared in glory and raised a monstrous arm, talons black-red with blood.

"Luther!" Hunter roared.

Utter stillness held.

The creature did not initially move, and then clawed hand relaxed and, glaring with red eyes, it turned.

A wall of flame rumbled behind Hunter.

Darkness highlighted the might and fury of the beast as it beheld him. Cold and contemptuous, it dropped Bobbi Jo to the bones, advancing into the challenge.

Stepping to the side, angling on the dune of bleached bones, Hunter held the titanium tendril behind his back. And it matched him step for step, walking slowly forward, squaring.

"You are a fool," it growled.

"Who's the fool, Luther?" Hunter shouted, still angling. "Somebody who sacrificed their humanity for this?" He flung out an arm. "Look! Look around you! What do you see! You sacrificed
your humanity for nothing!"

Hands clenching, the beast took a step forward.

"Never call me Luther," it snarled. "Luther is dead."

Hunter shifted his hand on the handle, the snare.

"Your
immortals
killed themselves, Luther!" Hunter said as he retreated a half-step, trying to draw it from Bobbi Jo and Chaney. "There's nothing left! That's what you traded your life for! So who's the fool! You were a man! And you gave it up for nothing! For nothing!"

"We r
uled this world!" it bellowed as it advanced a wide space in a breath. And at the move Hunter reflexively bent, preparing. His mind raced as he circled to his right.

"You returned to a graveyard, Luther!" he said. "Everything you thought was glory! Look! You've returned to hell, Luther! They're gone! You're the only one! So how long will you last? A week? A month? A year before they hunt you down?"

It roared—a soul-searing rage extending from greatly distended white fangs—and it suddenly seemed to stand closer and more terrible and infinitely more threatening. Monstrous taloned hands clenched as it slowly advanced.

"I
’ll kill you for this!"

"For what, Luther? For showing you the truth?"

"For challenging me!"

Hunter cast a glance at Bobbi Jo to see her still trying to dislodge the clip; no time for it.

He stopped retreating, knowing he had to move now or it would move for him. Steadying, he focused on it, shifting his stance for perfect balance. Behind him, he felt the heat of flames. Beyond the creature, only darkness. No more games.

"You were doomed to lose, Luther."

Luther raged, "I am immortal!"

Hunter shook his head. "Nobody lives forever."

It leaped upon Hunter as he angled smoothly to the side. In his wounded condition he should have been struck but the beast was not so fast as before, injured as it was with open wounds shedding that titanic strength into the grave.

It was over him but Hunter was already wide of the impact and he twisted back on the skeletal hill toward its hurtling bestial form. Then his arm uncoiled with smooth skill that sent a flashing silver thread through raging red air.

And what he had hidden for so long was unleashed ...

Staring in horror, Bobbi Jo saw the charge and leaped to her feet. And then Hunter was outside it and she saw a silver line lashing through flame.

It was almost beautiful in its symmetry—reaching, spiraling out in a white, waving line that straightened and tensed at the last moment. It hovered almost magically before it settled in a noose that descended smoothly over the neck of the beast.

Hunter twisted his arm; it closed.

Twisting powerfully, he hauled backward and the monstrosity straightened, clawed hands reaching instantly for its neck, but Hunter wasn't finished. Again he whirled to heave the creature off balance atop the haphazard heap of bones.

Hunter's next explosive twist sent it over his shoulder, and as the creature crashed on the bluff it tore at the restraint and hauled, and Hunter was suddenly airborne. He hit the creature squarely and together they tumbled down the slope, with the beast grasping at the sinewy strand snared so tightly around its thick neck.

As it reached the base it angrily regained balance and turned into its greatest enemy, grabbing the noose that it could not escape and whirling to send Hunter crashing into a skeletal hill.

Bones scattered spectacularly at the impact, raking the cavern in ribbons of white. But Hunter used the momentum to his advantage, turning once more into the defiant contest of strength and skill to hurl it beyond himself yet again.

And together they spun, each punishing the other with volcanic efforts that sent them revolving through red-darkness, screams, the horror-filled cries of slaughter that echoed from the fallen bones of its victims and their own defiant roars that collided and died with each impact, only to be reborn as they violently gained their feet.

Hunter was at the disadvantage as he barely avoided a bull-like charge by the beast. But at the last moment he turned its superior weight to an advantage by twisting away and hauling it cleanly over his shoulders with the cord.

Mesmerized, Bobbi Jo watched as they spun chaotically through the dark, each shattering skeletons and stone with the merciless impacts that carried them at one point past the burning pool.

For a heartbeat she saw them silhouetted against flame, fighting viciously to the death. Then Hunter's free hand held his
Bowie—nine inches of wide razored steel—and he leaped, closing the distance before the creature could react. The blade struck true and tore away, a gout of blood erupting from its ribs. But the wound came at a price as the beast, hovering in midair, lashed out to tear four vicious claw marks across Hunter's face.

Yet as vicious as the creature was, Hunter matched it dark measure for dark measure. The
Bowie swept out in a backhanded blow that caught it cleanly across the neck, severing muscle and armored skin with an explosive crack and a cascade of blood. Then, not hesitating to measure the extent of damage, Hunter roared and turned, catapulting it into a stalagmite that shattered at the terrific impact.

There was a moment of stunned silence as it rolled and then it rose, blood flooding from its fanged mouth and throat. It struggled savagely to draw breath, staggering again. For a strange, eerie moment, neither moved, each attempting to draw breath. Then the monstrous face twisted
in rage and it charged again, colliding hard with Hunter. They grappled— a fierce, volcanic intertwining of arms before Hunter leaped clear, hauling hard on the wire to send the beast sprawling once more in a mound of skulls that scattered wildly.

The next engagement was a vicious dance of blows thrown and blows evaded, some that struck to leave a scarlet trail in their wake and others that missed cleanly to slash through smoking air. Neither retreating, they attacked and counterattacked, struck, blocked, and angled, striking from fantastic angles with fantastic skill. Heedless, they stumbled through a burning sea of bones, ignoring the surrounding flames as they fought on and on, each as merciless and savage and determined as the other.

Hunter leaped and angled with the grace and strength of a lion to evade its most devastating blows, returning two wounds for every wound he received. Fatigue and blood loss were slowly claiming it now—it could feel the uncountable injuries only vaguely, but knew it was dying. Then it caught him hard, leaving another set of claw marks across shoulder and chest where he partially blocked the killing move.

Just the shock of the blow would have slain a normal man but Hunter was in killing mode now and felt little pain. He took the force of the impact and hauled it forward a step. Then he twisted violently back with the
Bowie to gouge a deep crevice through its ribs. The blade sank to the hilt and Hunter twisted it sideways as he withdrew it, causing even more damage. And as he did the creature stumbled, obviously reduced by the injury.

Still, it would not die, and threw a wild backhand that Hunter ducked at the last second.

Without surrendering hold of the coil that was slowly choking out the creature's life, Hunter leaped forward—a desperate move—and kicked violently to send a shower of burning oil into the air. And the blanket of blue-tinged fire hit the creature in a roar to set it fully aflame.

It staggered back in shock, but it did not last.

Its rage was immeasurable as it charged Hunter with a scream.

***

Hunter saw the fire and made the decision instantly, only the dimmest, most overwhelmed region of his mind telling him that, if he made this desperate move, he would have to kill it quickly. Because its pain would be without end. And the pain would drive it forward, far past any pain that it now sought to escape.

Moving almost as quickly as the beast, Hunter drew tension in the coil as he turned and heaved with all his strength, taking its balance to drag it from its feet. And in the next instant he glimpsed a humanoid monstrosity fully aflame, soaring beyond him in a vengeful roar before it crashed heavily into the flames.

It landed and erupted with the same heartbeat, gaining the edge of the pit before Hunter had a chance to leap away. Even now, injured as it was, its speed was surpassing.