Hunting Faith (The Hunting Series Book 1) Page 7

  Loudspeakers come on suddenly, interrupting me from my thoughts. An alien voice speaks to us. Itharene, if I’m not mistaken. He announces that a buzzer will be sounding shortly. After that, we are to grab whatever supplies we can carry. I eye the pile. “And then, you should run,” he suggests. “You have tonight for a head start. Tomorrow, at first light, the hunters will come. If you are caught, you will be killed. Your goal is to make it to one of three escape pods awaiting to the north. If you can make it there, you’re free to go. No questions asked. If not, you will go the way of all prey in a hunt.”

  They’re going to hunt us. I look around at my fellow “prey.” The lack of trust is reflected in every set of eyes that flick over me. If someone makes it to a pod, they’re taking off, no one is going to be waiting for other survivors.

  I shift on my feet, ready to attack the supplies. I see a water filter with my name on it. The buzzer goes off and we scramble for packs. I’m quick, but the girl in the idiotic costume begins to wail.

  “What the fuck is going on here? What is everyone doing?” she shouts frantically. Oh shit, I think to myself, she doesn’t have a translator. I cast a glance at her over my shoulder. She’s newly abducted, I realize. Maybe even just out of cryo. She hasn’t even had the chance to reconcile her abduction yet. Poor fool. My initial assessment of her was spot on. She definitely won’t make it through the night. But that’s not my problem I remind myself as I finish gathering my supplies. I don’t bother giving her a second glance as I turn and run into the dense trees beyond the dusty clearing.

  Survival. I’ve been good at it these past months. Sometimes I think it’s no way to live a life. But scraping by is better than what my alternative might have been if I hadn’t killed the motherfucker who bought me. I dream about it often still, waking up in a cold sweat. Back on Earth they’d probably say I suffer from PTSD…and they probably wouldn’t be wrong. Still, even with the nightmares, I’d do it all over again. I’d do it a hundred times. Even if it meant every single time I’d have to suffer the looks the other slaves gave me when they saw it happen. Or the horror reflected in their eyes when I tried to liberate them. They treated me like I was the monster.

  Since then, I don’t help people anymore. The only person I bother with is me. It’s easier that way, I think to myself as I stumble in the darkness.

  I’m tired. I haven’t slept since…well, since before Rylan. How long have I been running, I wonder? As my adrenaline wanes my feet begin to drag and I lean heavily on trees, using them to push myself forward. I don’t need anyone. Even though the thought cuts against the grain of everything my family ever taught me, I know it to be true. It’s true in this life at least.

  I reach for a shadowy tree ahead of me, to help lower myself down a slope, but my hand grips nothing and I spill forward, into the tree itself. The damn thing was hollow. I’m enveloped in darkness and my shoulder hits the inside of the trunk hard. I stifle a cry of pain. The hunters may not be out yet, but who knows what else is lurking this forest.

  Gathering my bearings and letting out a sigh of relief, I feel grateful for this sliver of good fortune. I need rest and this is as safe a place as I could hope for.

  Quietly, I unzip my pack and fish out a small container of water that I sip carefully from. I try to save as much as I’m able. Even though I have my water filter, I’m not sure if or when I’ll come across a water source. Until then, I have to ration what I have. Speaking of rations… I break a protein ration into four chunks, eating one and tucking the others away in my pack. It’s all I allow myself to eat for the night.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but what I do remember is my dream. It starts as it usually does, filled with the sound of my slaver’s guts spilling out onto the floor and pooling at my feet. Then comes the terrible looks the other slaves shoot me and then I’m running again. I hear screaming. They’re scared…but not of the slave master. They’re scared of me.

  My dreams are always the same, filled with the horrors and villains I’ve encountered over the past year. There are groping hands and faces distorted with loathing and disgust. The worst part, though, is the fact that in my dreams I’m hardly ever me. I’m him. My slave master, Jesek Lahan. I’m the rapist. I’m the monster. I’m the one bleeding out on the floor.

  The looks they gave me, that’s what I can’t get out of my mind. It was like peering into an endless repetition of reflections in a mirror. When they looked at me I know what they saw. It was the same way I looked at Jesek Lahan when he hurt me and a perfect reflection of the way he looked at me in his dying moments. For an ugly moment in time, I was him and he was me. The thought haunts me.

  The dream progresses and I make my way to the escape pod. On the way, there are doors lining the walls and they fill me with terror. I don’t know what’s on the other side. My greatest fear is that I’ll discover echoes of my past, perverted by the veil of nightmares, turning what I once found love and safety in into the grotesque.

  When I reach the pod door I’m filled with anxiety. This is the part of the dream always clouded in confusion, the need to escape paired with the inescapability of one’s mind. I fight frantically with the access panel, trying to make sense of the senseless. Only…this time I’m not alone.

  The pod door opens and Rylan is there. There’s no fear or urgency in him and the tension of the dream slips away like a clearing fog. He’s talking to me about something, in that easy way that he has, but I’m not paying attention. No, I’m wrapping myself in the warmth he exudes and a feeling of safety washes over me.

  But I’m not warm. I’m cold and my back aches. I blink my eyes and reach up to rub the sleep out of them. My hands are dirty.

  Though I’m shrouded in shadow, I can see the fuzzy gray of dawn outside. I try to shake off the ugly haze sleep left behind, finding no solace in the light of day. Life post-abduction is nothing more than one long and endless nightmare. Fear, like an old friend, settles in and my heart rate increases in response, I have to carry on. I am being hunted after all.

  Outside the cover my hollowed-out tree provides, the sun is rising. That means the hunters will be coming soon. I allow myself another quarter ration, one of two for the day. I’ll have to look for something to hunt, I think as I crawl out of the tree trunk. But that’s something to think about later. For now, I need to move, to keep that distance between the hunters and me as wide as possible.

  Rest and the little food and water I had give me the energy to keep moving. That and my fondness for not dying, of course. I keep a steady pace as the sun moves high overhead. Still, halfway through the day I hear something in the woods around me. For a while I think I might be paranoid or that maybe it’s some unseen animal I’ve happened upon. Just the same, I quicken my pace and try to keep hidden behind the trees as I press forward.

  That’s when I hear a branch snap and my adrenaline ratchets again. It’s time to run. I break into a sprint. Something is close and I no longer have the luxury of stealth. Sure enough, I hear footsteps pounding behind me. Biting back a whimper, I put everything I have into my stride. Ahead I can see the ground slopes down. There’s a small gorge at the base, an old, dried out stream bed carpeted in decaying leaves. I hurry for it, hoping I can lose whoever or whatever is trailing me along the winding path.

  I sling myself over the side and drop down a good seven feet. Leaves swallow my legs up to my knees. I’m only able to take a step or two before a figure above me blocks out the sun. I shield my eyes, focusing on the thing standing over me. Is this more “prey”? Or is this my hunter?

  I’m gripped by sickness when my brain finally processes who it is above me. I recognize the person watching me from the lip of the gorge. The only difference between the last time I saw him and now is the guns holstered at his hips and the blaster strapped across his chest. I freeze for a moment as I take him in, remembering what he told me back on Nydor Station. He said he had business in this sector…that he had to do something to earn money to take care of
his sisters. Now I know how he plans on earning his money, with a human hide.

  Slowly, he brings his hand up to his lips. He gestures for quiet and his other hand moves to his blaster.

  Fuck that.

  I turn and make a break for it, crashing through the leaves as I run.

  Chapter 12

  Rylan

  I try to signal for Faith to be silent. Instead, she turns and runs from me, crashing through the gorge like a stampede of wild chimpour. Of course she does. I hop down into the dried-out wash and sprint after her. There are other hunters in this area, and based off those I met last night, I do not think it is wise for Faith to cross paths with any of them.

  My sensitive ears prick, already there is something lurking nearby. I need to stop Faith before she gets herself killed. I close in on her, trying to grab her arm. She spins on me, delivering a solid backhand to my cheek. I hiss, but bite back any words. Already we are being far too loud.

  Taking advantage of my surprise, she grabs a low point on the opposite side of the gorge and hoists herself up. I reach for her ankles, but she kicks me away. Damn it! I want to scream at this mad female!

  “Faith! Faith, wait!” I hurriedly try to catch her attention, but she isn’t interested in talking. Climbing up after her, I see she’s running at full speed away from me, but I am faster. Out of sheer necessity I tackle her to the ground.

  “Quiet!” I whisper, trying to cover her mouth as she writhes beneath me. “Listen to me, Faith!” I plead, but she is grunting and screaming out her dismay, drowning out my words. My hand muffles the sound some, but not nearly enough to keep us safe. If only she would calm down and listen!

  “Hush!” I tell her, looking into her eyes, trying desperately to garner her attention. But her hands flail wildly on the forest floor and the sound of leaves crunching is so great, it practically echoes around us. Then, just when I think I might be making some progress, I see her arm swinging toward me. Rolling off of her and out of the way, I miss the full force of her attack. Still, the thick branch she grabbed skims my head as she swings it once more.

  We scramble to our feet and I put my hands up to calm her. “Faith…” I begin, backing up. “If you would just—” She doesn’t give me a chance to finish. She swings the branch at me again and I have to leap back to avoid impact. Unfortunately, I hadn’t gauged our distance from the small gorge very well and when my feet search for solid ground…they find none.

  The fall is not so great, yet still it knocks the wind out of me. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I take a moment to assess the damage. The place on the side of my head where her impromptu weapon connected stings, and I notice a little blood on my fingertips as I check it. Biting back a growl of frustration I climb out of the small gorge and scan the area for Faith. She seems to have vanished. But there is something else moving up ahead. A dark figure, crouched low to the ground, with his gun poised.

  Any anger I might have felt toward Faith drains away as I recognize the hunter stalking her trail. It is Visakha, the one who eats his prey. A wave of fierce protectiveness grips me and swiftly I am after them.

  No one will hurt my female.

  Chapter 13

  Faith

  I suck air down into my lungs. Adrenaline pushes me forward and my heart feels like it’s about to pound right out of my chest. He’s faster than me, I know this. Yet still, I seem to be pulling ahead.

  I can do this. I can get away. I urge myself onward, wondering if Rylan was hurt when he fell back into the gorge. If he was, good. I’m glad. I mean, that monster is trying to freaking hunt me! He slept with me and now he’s going to try and kill me. To think I ever felt bad about stealing his ship! He can rot in that damned gorge for all I care.

  The sound of my boots kicking up the leaves that blanket the forest floor might as well be thunder against the silent landscape. I grow nervous and wonder if I’d even hear Rylan coming. Cutting a glance over my shoulder, I see only a vacant and pristine forest behind me. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn to continue my escape, but again…I’m stopped short. Only this time, the thing blocking my path looks like a creature from hell and he’s got a blaster aimed at my face. I put my hands up.

  I have nothing to defend myself with. Even if I hadn’t dropped that branch when I was running, it wouldn’t have done anything to protect me from a blaster. Maybe this is finally it for me. My “luck” has run out at last. A smile splits the face of the alien and I notice his thin strip of a tongue shoot out and taste the air in my direction. My blood runs cold.

  “Get on your knees and put your hands on your head,” he sneers. His voice is as cold as ice. I’m trembling and glance furtively around, looking for my dried-up luck as if it were a tangible object to find.

  “I said, GET ON YOUR KNEES!” the alien bellows so harshly at me that I nearly jump right out of my skin.

  “We…we can talk about this,” I try lamely, but all it buys me is a mocking laugh. I drop to my knees and place my hands on my head, but I keep my chin high as the bastard approaches me. My heart is pounding. This is it.

  Then, before my brain has an opportunity to process, Rylan appears behind him. He heaves what appears to be the branch I attacked him with and it comes crashing down on the other guy’s head, who falls in a limp heap on the ground.

  I sit there, wide eyed and still on my knees. Rylan is panting and out of breath. He discards the branch angrily and stalks silently toward me with a scowl on his face. Grabbing me by my arms, he hoists me to my feet.

  “Come on,” he grits out. “We’re leaving.” He turns his back on me and begins to walk away.

  “Leaving?” I choke on the word. Rylan spins around and his eyes flicker again, like I’ve seen them do before. Only this time it isn’t lust that lights them. Nope, this seems more like rage.

  “Yes. We are leaving,” he growls. “Which is what I was trying to tell you when I first caught up to you back there! But obviously you didn’t trust me enough to stop and listen. Just like you didn’t trust me enough to ask for my help back when we were on Nydor!”

  “What did you expect me to do? I stole your fucking ship, Rylan! I’d have stopped to ask what the hell was going on, but I can do the math myself!” I spit, feeling angry and defensive. “Obviously we aren’t friends. You’re one of these fucking hunters, going through the forest, murdering people! And you expect me to do what? Call a timeout for a quick conversation before you kill me?”

  His voice softens and his expression changes. The anger seems to slip away. “We aren’t friends? And what about Nydor? Hell, Faith,” he says, looking genuinely hurt. “You’d think after the night we spent together you would know me better than that. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to save you.”

  “Oh yeah? Just like that? What about your ship? What about your sisters? You told me yourself that you needed this to help them. So what, I’m just supposed to walk off into the forest with you on nothing more than blind trust?”

  “I am not a monster, Faith! I was invited here under the assumption that we would be hunting game, not sentient beings. No matter what incentives they offer, I am no killer.” He says the word with such disdain that I flinch.

  “Oh yeah? Well, I am,” I tell him defiantly. “You still want to leave your sisters high and dry for someone like me?”

  “I read your file,” he says. His expression is blank.

  “So you know,” I reply, keeping my chin raised, daring him to judge me. Instead he takes a long, slow breath and scrubs his hand over his eyes.

  “I know that you somehow fell into the hands of slavers and they sold you to a male who wanted to be your master, a male who thought it was okay to own other people. I read that you killed him. I read how you killed him.” He pauses, taking a moment to appraise me. “I am an intelligent male, Faith. I can guess what happened and I do not blame you for it. You acted within reason, anyone else would have done the same thing.”

  For some reason his words of understanding only cause
resentment to swell inside my chest. “No. Not just anyone. None of the other slaves did what I did. Only me,” I counter, cutting my hand angrily through the air.

  “Not everyone is as strong as you.” He shrugs, as if it is a simple thing and again, his words bring nothing but pain. It’s been so long since anyone has shown me kindness, compassion, or understanding that it feels foreign to me. It scares me and the only defense I have against it is pushing him away.

  He must see the dismay written on my face, because his tone continues to soften and when I look at him again he inches closer. It’s almost as if he wants to reach out and comfort me. Instead, he keeps on talking. “It is hard to be strong all by yourself. It wears at you. But you are not alone anymore. You have me. I will do whatever it takes to get you off this world safely. Now come, we must get away from this place and find shelter.”

  “But your ship?” I ask, determined not to let my voice crack with emotion.

  “I’m angry, yes. But It isn’t worth your life.” He holds his hand out, beckoning to me.

  I clench my teeth against his kindness. Despite my discomfort, I’m not too stupid or too proud to turn down his help. “Okay, but we need to take his gun.” I remind him of the hunter at our feet.

  “No. Leave it,” Rylan says, his voice hard again. “You can have this.” He passes me a smaller hand-held weapon and I frown at it.

  “I want that one,” I say, pointing at the much larger, super-charged blaster the hunter had aimed at my chest a short while ago.

  “This”—he indicates the gun he’s trying to give me—“is set to incapacitate a person. That gun is meant to obliterate its target. That gun, we leave behind. I’m telling you, Faith, I did not come here to kill anyone. That is something I wish to avoid unless absolutely necessary.”

  “I’m not asking you to kill anyone. I’ll carry it,” I insist.

  “If you want my help, and let me make this clear: you do want my help, you’ll take the charger and leave that death machine behind.” Rylan’s voice is firm and the look he gives me is without compromise.