HuntedBill the Bloodless |
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Hunted Author: Bill the Bloodless Wearily the Foranyari stumbled forward. It had been three days since the flash floods had driven him from his lair and into the path of the humans. Since then he'd managed to keep ahead of them but not for much longer. Their pace had been relentless and whilst he had begun to tire, for some reason they had not. Very soon they would have him and he would be glad of it. He wanted it over. He was sick of running, sick of being afraid. Only a deep instinct for survival had kept him going this long. Brushing through the dense undergrowth he struggled forward. He'd hoped that on reaching the forest he'd be safe, that he would be able to escape, but it hadn't been the case. The trees had made little difference and neither had the coming of his other hope – darkness. With large eyes, excellent hearing and an acute sense of smell he was a creature of shadows more at home in the dark than the light. Many times in the past he had been able to use the cover of night to avoid humans, to slip away without them realising he was gone but not this time. Several times on the first night he'd changed direction suddenly, veered off at an odd angle but on each occasion the pursuers had followed. Descending into a small hollow he paused to catch his breath and rest his aching body. The sun would rise soon and with it would end his freedom and probably his life. Who these humans were that chased him, he didn't know and with so many of his own kind having disappeared of late he didn't want to find out. Why they were so intent on killing his kind was also a mystery. For hundreds of years the Foranyari had lived side by side with the human race with little trouble. Their numbers were small and for the most part they were peaceful. What had changed? A twig snapped in the distance and he was off once more. They were even closer now and coming towards him from several directions. They must know he was tiring. It wouldn't be long now. He struggled on for a short while longer but when he came to a small river he knew it was all over. It wasn't a very big river but the Foranyari were diggers not swimmers. He turned and waited. His death was inevitable but maybe he could take one or two of them with him. He didn't have to wait long. As the sky began to brighten the first of the humans appeared, a mechanical weapon in his hand. Knowing that he would have no chance if he gave the human time to use it, he ambled forward. Surprised by the sudden appearance of his quarry coming straight at him the human tried to raise his weapon but was far too slow. The Foranyari's claws may not have been designed for fighting but they were sharp and the arm behind them was powerful. His first swipe sliced the human open from groin to throat and sent him stumbling backwards, screaming. He raised his hand again but before he could deliver the killing blow he felt a sharp sting in his shoulder and a split second later agonising pain exploded in every fibre of his being. With light crackling around him the Foranyari crashed to the ground where, still none the wiser as to why he'd been murdered, he took his final breath.
Moments later five camouflaged figures appeared from the trees. Tazer rifles still pointed at the creature they edged forward cautiously. Having so recently witnessed its power and viciousness they were taking no chances. A couple of feet from the demon the leader of the team signalled and, while the others waited, he continued forward alone. Stopping at its side, he took a deep breath and nudged it with his foot. Nothing. Satisfied that it was dead, Riley Finn straightened and removed his night vision goggles. For three days the creature
had led them across half of southern California but its flight was always going
to be in vain – they had no intention of letting it escape. Its killing days were over. He turned. "Graham, Stewart, check on
Walters. Forrest, call this in and get us some transport. Stat." He had a birthday party to get to. |