Chapter 20
One of them!
I could feel my eyes bulge in their sockets. I had never seen one before. No one in ten years had seen one up close and clear. Or lived to tell about it. They always struck in the dark hours, not even during a full moon … unless a thick blanket of cloud provided cover. They were exceptionally quick, mobile. Agile. Those who had seen ‘something’ and survived could only describe a flash, a blur of black and red fury. Those of us who hadn’t seen anything, didn’t want to. Even so, as Dixan and I stared in horror at the creature in the pit, we knew it was one of them.
“Oh, dude! Oh, my gag!” Dixan’s voice was shrill with panic. “What … what do we do, bro?”
“Shhh … it knows we’re here,” I said very quietly, the arrow on my bowstring itching for action. I could see the top of my enemy’s head now. It seemed to be looking our way; twitching, straining. The bright sunlight evidently limiting its ability to see anything outside of the hole.
We guessed that they were relatively small, no bigger than a stride-and-a-half, less than five feet tall. However, we knew they were incredibly strong. They plucked our young women from high branches without a hint of noise, and without even a sign of struggle. We concluded that they must kill their victims instantly, and then lugged their dead weight through the jungle with consummate ease.
They killed our men and older women with a single piercing to the heart. Again, we never heard so much as a sound from the weapon they used. Or a peep from the dying victim.
“Risto, let’s … let’s get out of here,” Dixan’s voice, a desperate and distraught whisper, “there could be others—”
I shushed him quietly but firmly. “It’s midmorning and the sun is bright; I don’t think there are others around. This one must have fallen in during the night somehow.”
“On, on its way to our camp?” Dixan spoke out what I was thinking, “To take Nads or Gels? Man, I hate them! I hate them, bro. Just kill the flippin devil.”
I felt myself pull back on the bowstring even further. If I let it go now, at this close range, the arrow would fly at such a lethal pace; express enough to pass straight through the neck of a Hog or human. Or just about.
Surely, enough to rip this thing’s head off?
I took another step closer. And then another. My arrow trained at the sweet spot between my foe’s squinting eyes. Now I could see its full upper body in the shade of the hole. Still, it struggled to focus on us, cupping its hands over its eyes in an attempt to shield the glaring sunlight. It seemed unsure of the threat we carried, and sniffed hard on the air. Fortunately, we were upwind, and would offer no advantage to our enemy. One more step and I stopped; I could now see most of its form. So could Dixan, who had kept lumbering forward, using me as his shield.
Humanoid!
Since it was smaller than I imagined, I was probably looking at a young adult. It was pilous; although it wore a full-body, dark rubber-like outfit—to assist with its mobility no doubt, while offering protection of sorts—its head, forearms and legs were covered in thick black hair. Only its face and palms were hairless.
Eyes now shut; it appeared to be in much discomfort, shuffling uneasily on its buttocks. In obvious pain, it tried to hoist its leg, which looked twisted at the ankle. Then I saw its ‘feet’; hands for feet actually, explaining its agility through the jungle. It looks almost familiar? Dixan suddenly coughed out the word that my mind was reaching for.
“It looks like a … a chimpanzee … only, only its face, more human-ish.” His curiosity again trumping his trepidation.
“Yes,” I heard myself agree. I had only seen pictures of a chimpanzee; by the time I was born, they along with 70% of Earth’s animal life were extinct. In fact, Dad and two other microbiologists proved that an early version of The Plague virus killed off the chimpanzees. Not content with the chimps, the virus mutated again and decimated mankind.
Looking for any sign of a laser gun, I noticed what looked like a helmet. No, more like a hood … a hood with a visor. I assumed it was some form of sunshield. The visor was shattered, evidently from the fall.
“Is … is it armed?” asked Dixan, sharing my fear.
I shook my head half-heartedly. There was no evidence of any weapon, but I knew it must be capable of maiming or killing.
“Why doesn’t it just climb out?” asked Dixan, battling to see past me. I lowered my bow, and released the tension from the string even though the arrow was still loaded.
“It’s fallen hard,” I whispered. “Look … the visors smashed, and it’s definitely impaled … see through the left leg. It’s lost a lot of blood or life liquid or whatever it has—”
“Kata-kolo, kata-kolo!” The air exploded with an alien, blood-chilling sound.
I just about jumped out of my soul as the creature opened its mouth in a verbal tirade, a rapier assault filled with venom and bile. I suspected it had only now become fully sentient of our close proximity.
Shaking and trembling, Dixan flung his arms around my body from behind, impeding my use of the bow. “Dix! Get off—”
“Kata-kolo, kata-kolo. Kete-kete!” screamed our adversary; a venomous expression animated its embellished facial features. Eyes wide open, blazing a furious, fiery red; it strained to take in our shape and form. Shaking off Dixan, I aimed the arrow at the small black pupil in the centre of the flaming red target … its left eye.
“Kill it, kill it!” yelled Dixan sucking in his teeth.
“Kata-kolo, kata-kolo!” bellowed the creature in response as it tried to wriggle from view, to no avail. It was trapped, cornered. “Kata-kolo, kata-kolo. Kete-kete,” it snarled in our direction. The red in the iris of its eyes seemed to get more intense and swelled to fill the entire, distended eyeball. Any human-likeness in its face, gone.
“Rist! Kill it! Shoot the friggin thing!”
Dixan’s shrill voice galvanised my resolve. Bow at full stretch, my arms began to quiver slightly with the strain.
I exhaled slowly.
Now…
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t let the arrow go.
“Kill it, Ristan!” screeched Dixan in a howl of demented dread. I could feel him jumping up and down frantically behind me.
I lowered my bow and relaxed the tension.
“What you doing? Rist! Kill it!” His voice squealed with disbelief and terror.
“No, I can’t.”
With that, Dixan made a strange clicking sound with his tongue, turned and ran. “Wait, Dix—!”
There was no stopping him, I knew he would run straight back to camp and alert the others. I had about thirty to forty minutes to decide what to do before they all rocked up on the scene.
Why can’t I kill it?
Where had my hate gone … my blinding hate? Maybe, because it looked so defenceless. Perhaps, because it looked so human a moment ago. Or had the events of the last two days robbed me of my survival instinct, drained me of my abhorrence of them? Was I being more human, or less?
I realised that I was lost in my head again and had taken my eyes off my foe. When I focused back on the creature, a chill ran up and down my spine.
The furious red in the iris of its eyes was gone; a deep purple hue marked its peepers now. They looked almost painted. The venom in its face faded, replaced by a softer, almost … almost amiable expression. Rotting Hog’s breath! It looked so incredibly human again; I almost felt sympathy for it. Was it trying to manipulate me, sensing my indecision, playing on my apparent show of weakness?
I stepped forward and raised my bow again. In an instant, the purple in its eyes became a roaring red. Rage contorted its features grotesquely … and a blur flashed towards me. Flicked its wrist? Something struck my bow with such force that it flew from my grip, and my arrow sailed high into the air. Startled, I caught sight of a fluid-like substance spurt in the air at the very instant the ‘something’ hit my bow, but I didn’t have a clue what was happening.
Then I saw i
t.
A polished metallic object, no bigger than my middle finger, lay on the ground. Just a spearhead tapered into a needle-sharp point, there was no shaft. A cord or tube connecting the metal lancet ran all the way back to the creature in the hole.
I don’t know how I knew what to do, but instinctively I stood on the loose cord. A nanosecond later, the cord went tight as my brain clicked into gear. The confusion lifted, and I understood what was going on.
The creature had shot the spearhead at me. It was connected by a tube-like cord to a device on the thing’s wrist. My enemy now intended to reel the weapon back into place; presumably, to launch it at me as many times as necessary. Some of the fluid-like substance remained on the spearhead at my feet, but slowly evaporated.
It must be some quick-working, lethal toxin that’s injected into the victim.
That it evaporated seconds after being discharged meant it was probably designed to do so. No wonder we never found any sign of poisoning in those killed by this deadly weapon.
My bow had fortuitously saved me.
Dix’s bow.
“Kata-kolo, kata-kolo. Kete-kete!” screamed the creature again, red-eyed and spitting fury. The tug on my foot was strong; I couldn’t hold the cord down for long, but I dared not touch it with my hands. Drawing my knife, I hacked at it, grateful when my sharp blade finally split the tube—a colourless fluid dribbling onto the ground.
“Kata-kolo, kata-kolo,” growled the creature; this time, in a more controlled hiss as the loose cord snaked back into its launcher without the spearhead, like a decapitated viper. I had no idea what it was saying, of course, but it sounded more resigned to defeat. Despite the duller tone of its voice, its flaming red eyes, however, told me my adversary was still wired for anything. My own peepers ran swiftly over every detail in front of me. No sign of a gun. And no device on its other wrist. Relieved, I expelled a rasping gust of air.
Out of instinct and self-preservation, sheathing my knife, I quickly picked up my bow and notched another arrow on the string. This time, I didn’t point it at my enemy. I knew one thing … I had no intention of killing it. So, why antagonise the creature?
And then I just stared at it. And it stared back at me, red-eyed and breathing heavily.
For the longest time.
My mind was blank; I didn’t know what to do. I might have left it if I wasn’t conscious that Dixan and the others would be arriving at some point. It was injured, but I didn’t think it was dying. Once dark set in, I guessed they might come to its aid. On second thoughts; no, I don’t think I could have left it to suffer. It had lost a lot of life-fluid.
But what I did next … shocked me.
I slowly returned the arrow into my quiver, and put the quiver and my bow on the ground. Crouching to lower my presence, I withdrew my knife and plunged it into the ground to its hilt. Lifting my hands up to complete my attempt at a parley, I spoke to the creature.
The words that proceeded from my mouth sounded so calm and confident, a compilation of letters that almost didn’t belong to me.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t. Somehow I think you know that. Or I’m totally nuts. But … other humans are coming … and its going to get a little … er … chaotic soon, but I won’t let them hurt you.”
All of a sudden, the most amazing thing happened.
The red in the inflamed iris of its eyes turned purple and kept changing until they became green … not just green, an electric emerald green. With the iris constricting at the same time, the white of its eyes became pronounced, a clean, painted white, enhancing the beauty and richness of the colour of the iris. The rest of its simian-like face remained somewhat hard and tense. I chose to smile, not because I felt like smiling, but because I didn’t know how else to soften my own expression.
The creature’s eyes turned a softer green, and its face relaxed. The grotesque, venomous features were gone. Hog’s breath! I can’t believe this! It looked like a completely different beast; again, so human, I felt my jaw drop.
A whole new meaning to being two-faced!
“If you can communicate with me in any way,” I continued, “now is the time to do it. I don’t want to come into the hole and scare you … but unless I do, you’ll remain trapped.”
Me scare them?
I nearly laughed out loud.