Hunter's Run Part 13

Chapter 15.

For two more days, Ramon and Maneck trekked through the forest, the man leading the way and the alien at his heels. They paused for Ramon to eat and drink, and to p.i.s.s and s.h.i.t, but rested only at night. The other Ramon had made perfunctory camps, sleeping in the hollow of a lightning-struck milkpine one night and in a poorly constructed lean-to the next. The fire pit and well-built shelter of the earlier campsites were gone, and Ramon understood why. His twin was truly on the run. They were down to the final sprint.

They found three more flatfurs along the path, and Ramon was fairly sure they had overlooked several others. The path they traveled would reek of blood to the creatures of So Paulo. And more and more often, Ramon saw signs of chupacabra: chupacabra: evil-smelling spoor on the path, trees gouged by sharpened claws, and, once, a distant call that was equal parts solitude and murder. evil-smelling spoor on the path, trees gouged by sharpened claws, and, once, a distant call that was equal parts solitude and murder.

159 Maneck remained distant and reserved, but more comprehensible than it had been at first. With every night's rest, the alien seemed to gain strength and focus. None of the strange dreams had troubled Ramon again, and the issues of tatecreude tatecreude and killing, Enye and geno-cide had come up in their conversation no more often than before. and killing, Enye and geno-cide had come up in their conversation no more often than before.

Memories still flooded Ramon from time to time-moments from his childhood, trivial events from his time in the Enye ship, and arriving on So Paulo. He found that he was better able to ignore them if he intentionally kept his mind on the path before him.

It was the middle morning of the third day when the game path they had been following reached the river. The great Rio Embudo.

The river was almost too wide to see across-what had been a thin ribbon seen from afar had stretched into a clear expanse of glacier-cold water, fast and smooth. Trees pressed up to the banks, exposed roots trailing into the flow like thick fingers. No human footprints marred the muddy bank, but Ramon didn't doubt that the other one had been at this place, seeing this same landscape. But how long before? And where would he have gone from here to construct his escape raft? Ramon considered the sunlight glittering on the water's surface and let his mind turn the problem over. If he had been here, and free, fleeing the alien and dodging the chupacabra, chupacabra, what would he have done? what would he have done?

Scratching his wispy beard, he turned south and began plodding along the riverbank. Maneck followed without a word, the sahael sahael bobbing between them like a length of rope. The water murmured softly. On another day, with some other errand, Ramon would have stopped, perhaps dipped his bare feet into the river water, and enjoyed the beauty of the place. As it was, his mind buzzed with a hundred different questions; had his twin already finished some small raft and floated away to the south, and what would Maneck do if they found the other Ramon, and how large was a bobbing between them like a length of rope. The water murmured softly. On another day, with some other errand, Ramon would have stopped, perhaps dipped his bare feet into the river water, and enjoyed the beauty of the place. As it was, his mind buzzed with a hundred different questions; had his twin already finished some small raft and floated away to the south, and what would Maneck do if they found the other Ramon, and how large was a chupacabra chupacabra's territory anyway? He spoke about none of it, only judging where best toplace his feet and what angle to take around the trees in order to keep the sahael sahael from catching on a branch and tugging at his throat. from catching on a branch and tugging at his throat.

There were fewer signs of his twin now-no footprints, few small branches broken at the correct height for a man to have done the damage. It wasn't that the other Ramon had become more careful, but the river drew forest animals to its banks to obscure any more human traces. There would be more kyi-kyi here. More salt rats and alces negros alces negros. The mud banks they pa.s.sed showed the marks of thin hooves, wide-slung soft toes, the tiny birdlike cuneiform of tapanos tapanos and stone kites. The river at their side was teeming with life. and stone kites. The river at their side was teeming with life.

The planet was alive around them. They were two aliens marching through a world they didn't belong to. Three aliens, if he counted the other Ramon.

The river bent lazily to the east, offering Ramon a majestic view of the water and the distant forest on the far bank but restricting what he could see of the path up ahead. He paused, squatted beside a fallen iceroot, and spat. Maneck came looming up beside him and stopped.

"The man is not here," Maneck said. Its voice likely carried across the water like a distant landslide.

"He's here. Somewhere."

"He may have gone against the flow of the river," Maneck said. "If we are searching in the wrong direction, then we will be unable to find him."

"Then he'll be floating on by, won't he? That's why I'm holding close to the bank. So we can see him if he pa.s.ses."

The alien was silent.

"You hadn't thought of that," Ramon said.

"I am not an apt tool for this purpose," Maneck said. The quills on his head shifted in something akin to despair.

"You're doing fine," Ramon said. "But if we don't find this pendejo pendejo before sundown, we're going to have a problem. He'll have the chance to-" before sundown, we're going to have a problem. He'll have the chance to-"

161 The sound was like something falling; the rattle of leaves, the faintest hush of moving air. The beast burst from the trees in near silence. It wasn't until Maneck turned toward it that the chupacabra chupacabra bared its teeth and shrieked. bared its teeth and shrieked.

Ramon had seen pictures of chupacabras chupacabras before-even once held the scaled pelt of what must have been a young member of the species. Nothing he had seen had prepared him for the reality of the creature that faced him now. As tall as a man, and perhaps twelve feet long, its limbs were engines of power and speed. Black claws tipped its almost handlike paws, and the wide mouth-lips drawn back to reveal the deep-red gums-seemed too small for the doubled rows of teeth. Its eyes were not the red glow of the parade float, but pure black. The predator stink of it-rotten meat, animal musk, and old blood-rushed on ahead of it like a wave. before-even once held the scaled pelt of what must have been a young member of the species. Nothing he had seen had prepared him for the reality of the creature that faced him now. As tall as a man, and perhaps twelve feet long, its limbs were engines of power and speed. Black claws tipped its almost handlike paws, and the wide mouth-lips drawn back to reveal the deep-red gums-seemed too small for the doubled rows of teeth. Its eyes were not the red glow of the parade float, but pure black. The predator stink of it-rotten meat, animal musk, and old blood-rushed on ahead of it like a wave.

Maneck's arm shifted, and energy exploded on the chupacabra chupacabra's breast. The screaming cry rose to a higher register, and the air suddenly filled with the stink of burning hair and flesh, but the shot wasn't enough to stop the beast, and its attack didn't falter. The chupacabra chupacabra crashed into the alien, and, for the first time, Maneck seemed small. Ramon backed instinctively into the water until the crashed into the alien, and, for the first time, Maneck seemed small. Ramon backed instinctively into the water until the sahael sahael tugged at his neck, unable to take his eyes from the whirling tangle that was alien clashing with alien. His mind was empty with fear, his own high voice squeaking out the Paternoster without realizing it. tugged at his neck, unable to take his eyes from the whirling tangle that was alien clashing with alien. His mind was empty with fear, his own high voice squeaking out the Paternoster without realizing it.

Through the sahael, sahael, he could he could feel feel Maneck's body grappling with the Maneck's body grappling with the chupacabra, chupacabra, exerting every last bit of strength it possessed. It was not as hopelessly uneven a struggle as it would have been had Maneck been human-the exerting every last bit of strength it possessed. It was not as hopelessly uneven a struggle as it would have been had Maneck been human-the chupacabra chupacabra was stronger and heavier, but not so much so that Maneck was completely without a chance. Both Maneck and Ramon screamed in agony when the thing raked its claws down Maneck's side. But then Maneck's long arms found some purchase. The was stronger and heavier, but not so much so that Maneck was completely without a chance. Both Maneck and Ramon screamed in agony when the thing raked its claws down Maneck's side. But then Maneck's long arms found some purchase. The chupacabra chupacabra's battle calls shifted, becoming at firstalarmed and then agonized as Maneck hugged it close, its cablelike arms squeezing the air from the predator's lungs. Ramon could hear the chupacabra chupacabra's ribs crack, hear it gasp in pain, and, for a moment, he felt a surge of amazed hope that they would win.

But then the chupacabra chupacabra writhed and twisted, its legs flailing. A claw pierced Maneck's wounded eye, and unbearable pain radiated down the writhed and twisted, its legs flailing. A claw pierced Maneck's wounded eye, and unbearable pain radiated down the sahael sahael into Ramon's flesh. He and the alien cried out as one. The into Ramon's flesh. He and the alien cried out as one. The chupacabra chupacabra bounded back and landed on all fours, already bunched to spring again. Ramon felt Maneck's distress echoing his own. The bounded back and landed on all fours, already bunched to spring again. Ramon felt Maneck's distress echoing his own. The chupacabra chupacabra leaped, and Maneck fired another blast of energy. The bolt went wide, and the impact of the leaped, and Maneck fired another blast of energy. The bolt went wide, and the impact of the chupacabra chupacabra's hur-tling body knocked Maneck back. Now it was the chupacabra chupacabra with its arms locked around Maneck, its thick hind legs digging at the alien's legs and belly with long, saber-sharp claws. Ramon screamed in agony, pulling at the flesh of the with its arms locked around Maneck, its thick hind legs digging at the alien's legs and belly with long, saber-sharp claws. Ramon screamed in agony, pulling at the flesh of the sahael, sahael, as if he could rip the leash free. as if he could rip the leash free.

And, to his astonishment, Ramon felt movement in his throat-a loosening, like tendrils of metal withdrawing from his bones and nerves. His experience of Maneck's pain lessened, his doubled consciousness faded. With a disturbing slithering sound, the sahael sahael pulled away from him and turned, snakelike, to whip at the pulled away from him and turned, snakelike, to whip at the chupacabra chupacabra. The flickering exposed wires at the sahael sahael's end arced with energy as it struck at the chupacabra, chupacabra, and the beast screamed in pain, but Maneck seemed to be weakening, and nothing that had happened so far had significantly slowed the and the beast screamed in pain, but Maneck seemed to be weakening, and nothing that had happened so far had significantly slowed the chupacabra chupacabra's relentless attack. Ramon, standing thigh-deep in the icy river water, bent to find some stones to throw at the beast-then came to his senses.

He was free, and once the chupacabra chupacabra had killed Maneck, had killed Maneck, he he would be next. This was no time to fight. This was the time to flee. would be next. This was no time to fight. This was the time to flee.

He took a great breath and dove, kicking as hard as he ever had, moving with the current. The sounds of battle vanished as his ears filled with water. Beneath the river's glittering surface, bright green 163 163 fish swam, unconcerned with the violence on the sh.o.r.e. Fine golden filaments rose from the muck at the bottom and were bent by the water as if they pointed the way to the sea. Ramon was careful to swim well above the golden threads; they could sting as bad as jellyfish. When he came up for air, he had already covered at least a hundred meters, and the howls of the chupacabra chupacabra were fading behind him. He took a fresh lungful and dove again. were fading behind him. He took a fresh lungful and dove again.

His first impulse was to set out for the opposite bank, but seconds after he'd had the thought, he abandoned it. The water was hardly warmer than the ice that had sp.a.w.ned it, and adrenaline would do little to stave off hypothermia. Crossing the river would be suicide.

Ramon angled back for the near sh.o.r.e and realized as his arms flailed and clawed at the current that he was in trouble. The fast river flow had pulled him around the bend, but it had also taken him farther from the bank than his own efforts could have. He rose again, tread-ing water and borne along like a cork. He could hear no sound of the struggle. Either the fight had ended or he was far enough away that the sound of it was drowned out by his splashing. He turned his head, blinking hard to clear his eyes, and found the sh.o.r.e. His heart sank.

Come on, Ramon, he told himself. he told himself. You're a tough You're a tough pendejo. pendejo. You can You can do this thing. do this thing.

He turned himself toward the riverbank and started swimming as hard as he could perpendicular to the flow. The river plants and streamers of moss below him were his guides as he pushed himself toward the uncertain safety of land. His feet and hands stung and soon went numb. His earlobes ached. His face and chest grew thick-fleshed and rubbery, but he pushed on. He couldn't die out here. He had to reach the sh.o.r.e. It was his G.o.dd.a.m.n tatecreude tatecreude.

He focused on moving his body-legs kicking, arms and hands scooping at the water. Time lost its meaning. He might have been swimming for three minutes or an hour or his whole life. The chillwas deadly, and he could feel it knifing into him. He faltered once, seduced into thinking he needed a moment's rest.

He was dead. The only reason to keep trying was stubbornness, and Ramon Espejo was a very stubborn man. Even when he was hardly doing more than floating, he pushed his mouth free of the water and gulped one more breath. And then one more. And then one more. His mind began to fade, and he recalled his dream of being one with the river, of becoming the flow itself. Perhaps that would not be so bad after all. Just one more breath so he could think about it. Then one more.

It was a sandbar that saved him. The river widened, its eastern half becoming shallow as it broadened. Driftwood rose from the sand like the antlers of some nightmare beast. Ramon found an ancient log standing at an angle from the water. He crawled up its black, slimy side and held it like it was a lover. He was too cold to shiver. That wasn't good. He had to get out of the water. The river still lapped at his knees, and his feet were numb. Ramon bit down on his lip until he tasted blood, the pain focusing his mind.

He had to reach the sh.o.r.e. Then get dry, and then hope that the sun would warm his flesh. There was enough debris on the sandbar that he could move from one support to another; it seemed as if anything that went into the water upstream ended up caught here. The danger was that he might slip, fall into the water, and lack the will to rise again. He had to be careful.

With a deep breath, Ramon pushed his blackwood lover away and stumbled to a small dam of branches that had been laced together with ivy and strips of bark. Then from that to a low stone.

Then another slime-slick log. And then the water was no higher than his ankles. Ramon trudged slowly to dry land. He collapsed on the ground, laughed weakly, and vomited up what seemed like several liters of river water. His alien garments were sodden and heavy, the shoes kicked off somewhere in the river. Fingers clumsy as sausages, 165 165 he pulled the clothing from his skin and lay back naked, trying with the last of his conscious will to angle himself toward the sun.

It wasn't sleep that took him, but neither was it death, because sometime later his mind re-formed and he struggled to sit up. The sun had moved the width of three hands together, lowering toward the western sky. His teeth were chattering like a badly tuned lift tube.

His hands and feet were blue, but not black. The alien robe he had cast aside was dry and sun-warmed. He pulled it on awkwardly and sat, arms around his knees, laughing and weeping. His neck, where the sahael sahael had entered him, felt unnaturally hot. The skin there was smooth as river stone and numb as a witch's mark. Ramon rubbed his fingertips over the insertion point and let the reality of his situation sink into him. He had made it. He was free. He looked out over the water with a sense of glee and disbelief. He'd done it! had entered him, felt unnaturally hot. The skin there was smooth as river stone and numb as a witch's mark. Ramon rubbed his fingertips over the insertion point and let the reality of his situation sink into him. He had made it. He was free. He looked out over the water with a sense of glee and disbelief. He'd done it!

It didn't occur to him that the mesh of branches tied together on the sandbar was odd until he heard the sharp intake of breath behind him and turned to see a surreal and familiar sight. The other Ramon stood at the tree line. His chest was bare, his pants ripped into rough shorts. Dark hair rose crazily from his head. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage black with dried blood and his left gripped the old field knife, Ramon's field pack slung over one sun-burned shoulder. Of course. He'd made a raft; the branches out there hadn't wrapped themselves with bark. And now the flow of the river and the cruel irony of the G.o.ds had brought both Ramons to the same place at the same time, caught up on the same sandbar.

He rose slowly, unsteadily, trying not to startle his twin. He raised a hand in greeting, fear closing his throat. His twin took a step back, eyeing him balefully.

"Who the f.u.c.k are you?" the man said.

Part Three

Chapter 16.

Ramon's mind was slow to react. He had to answer, but none of the things that came to his lips was the right thing. I'm Ramon Espejo I'm Ramon Espejo and and I'm you I'm you and and Why should I tell you who I am, Why should I tell you who I am, pendejo pendejo ? ? He felt his mouth open and close, and saw the shock in his twin's eyes shift to something else, something more dangerous. The other man's grip on his knife tensed. He felt his mouth open and close, and saw the shock in his twin's eyes shift to something else, something more dangerous. The other man's grip on his knife tensed.

"Aliens!" Ramon spat out. "There's f.u.c.king aliens out there! They took me prisoner. You've got to help me!"

It was the key. The other man's tension eased a little. His head turned and he looked at Ramon, measuring him, his eyes still radiat-ing mistrust but no longer on the edge of violence. Ramon leaned forward, moving slowly and being careful to do nothing that might startle the other man.

Ramon looked at him closely for the first time, feeling an odd fas-cination. After all, in spite of his memories to the contrary, this was the first human being he'd ever actually met! His twin was filthy and unkempt-the light stubble that often darkened his chin was already a moth-eaten beard. Distrust shone in his black eyes. His right hand was wrapped in b.l.o.o.d.y cloth, and Ramon realized, with a profound sense of vertigo, that in that mess of soiled bandages, a finger was missing. A finger from which he had been born.

But the other Ramon also looked wrong wrong somehow. He had expected it to be like looking into a mirror, but it was not. The face he was accustomed to seeing reflected back was different than this. It was more like seeing a video recording of himself. Perhaps, he thought, his features were not so symmetrical as he'd liked to believe. Also, the voice was higher than he believed his own to be and slightly whiny. somehow. He had expected it to be like looking into a mirror, but it was not. The face he was accustomed to seeing reflected back was different than this. It was more like seeing a video recording of himself. Perhaps, he thought, his features were not so symmetrical as he'd liked to believe. Also, the voice was higher than he believed his own to be and slightly whiny.

The voice he heard and hated when he heard himself recorded. The other Ramon's bearded chin jutted aggressively.

What did he he look like in his twin's eyes? Finer hair. Fewer lines and creases in his skin. No scars, and thin whiskers. He would appear to be a younger man. And if the other Ramon didn't already feel that he was seeing himself, there was no reason for him to suspect what the aliens had done. Ramon's advantage was that he knew what had happened, who he was, and all that the other man knew. The other man's advantage was that he hadn't half drowned. And he had a knife. look like in his twin's eyes? Finer hair. Fewer lines and creases in his skin. No scars, and thin whiskers. He would appear to be a younger man. And if the other Ramon didn't already feel that he was seeing himself, there was no reason for him to suspect what the aliens had done. Ramon's advantage was that he knew what had happened, who he was, and all that the other man knew. The other man's advantage was that he hadn't half drowned. And he had a knife.

"Please," Ramon said, searching for things he could say that would make him seem more plausible. "I've got to get back to Fiddler's Jump. You got a van?"

"I look like I have a f.u.c.king van?" the other man said, raising his arms out at his sides like Christ crucified. "I've been running from those f.u.c.king things for a week. How is it you came to get loose from them just here and now, eh?"

It was a good question. They weren't near the alien hive, and the timing was too convenient. Ramon licked his lips.

"It's the first time they took me out," Ramon said, deciding to 171 171 keep as near the truth as he could. "They were holding me in a tank.

Under a mountain up north of here. They told me there was someone they were hunting. I think they were using me. Seeing what I could eat and like that. I think maybe they didn't know much. You know. About people."

The other man considered this. Ramon kept his gaze away from the knife. Better that neither of them think of it. He heard himself going on, his voice thin and shrill. He sounded afraid.

"I tried to fight against them, but they had this thing. In my neck.

Right here, you can see where it went in. If I did anything they didn't like, they shocked me. I've been walking for days. Please, man, you can't leave me here."

"I'm not going to leave you here," the other man said. There was disgust in his voice. Disgust and perhaps superiority. "I've been running from them too. They blew up my van, but I had a few tricks.

f.u.c.ked them up pretty good!"

"That was you?" Ramon said, trying to make his voice sound admiring instead of false. "You're the one that blew up the yunea yunea?"

"The what?"

You only get one slip like that, Ramon told himself. Hold it together, cabron cabron. At least until you you have the knife. have the knife.

"The flying box thing. That's what they called it."

"Uh," the other man said. "Yeah. I'm the one. I saw you, too. I was watching."

"So you saw the thing they put in my neck."

The other man seemed reluctantly to agree that Ramon's story had some truth to it. Ramon could see it in the man's stance when he decided not to kill him.

"How'd you get away?" the other man asked.

"Chupacabra killed the alien. Came out of nowhere. The leash came free while they were fighting, and I got out of there." killed the alien. Came out of nowhere. The leash came free while they were fighting, and I got out of there."

The other man smiled to himself. Ramon decided to let him thinkthey hadn't seen through his plan with the flatfurs. Better that the other Ramon spend his time thinking how clever he was, and how stupid everyone else could be.

"What's your name, anyway?" the other man asked.

"David," Ramon said, pulling a name out of the air. "David Pe-nasco. I live down in Amadora. I'm a banker with Union Trust. I was camping by myself, maybe a month ago. They took me when I was sleeping."

"Union Trust's got a branch in Amadora?" the other man asked.

"Yeah," Ramon said. He didn't know if it was true, didn't know if there was some other memory that hadn't grown back yet that would rip his story apart, so he plain bare-faced lied it through and prayed.

"Has been for about six months."

"Sonofab.i.t.c.h," the other man said. "Well, get off your a.s.s, David.

We got work to do if we're going to get out of here. I got maybe a third of a raft finished. If there's gonna be two of us, you better get to work. Maybe later you can tell me what you know about those pinche pinche motherf.u.c.kers." motherf.u.c.kers."

The other man turned and started walking back into the forest.

Ramon followed.

The clearing was twenty meters or so into the woods, and the man hadn't bothered to make a shelter or a fire pit. This wasn't a place to live, it was a construction site. Four sheaves of bamboolike cane lay bound with strips of iceroot bark, the red skin of the cane glittering as it died as if it had been lacquered. Pontoons, Ramon thought.

Laced together with thin branches and saplings young enough to be hewn with the serrated back edge of the field knife, they would float.

It wouldn't be anything near watertight-the river would be splashing onto their legs and a.s.ses the whole way down if they didn't have something to cover the raft floor. And the sheaves were too small and too loosely bound. It was d.a.m.n impressive for some crazed pendejo pendejo out by himself with a wounded hand and a demon out of h.e.l.l trot-173 out by himself with a wounded hand and a demon out of h.e.l.l trot-173 ting after him, but it wouldn't get one of them to Fiddler's Jump, much less two.

"What?" the man said.

"Just looking," Ramon replied. "We're going to need more cane.

You want me to cut it? Just show me where you found it. . . ."

The man considered the offer with a pinched, sour face. Ramon knew the calculation going on behind those dark eyes. Ramon-or David, whatever his name was now-was going to harvest faster than the injured man himself, but it meant giving him the knife.

"I'll do it," the man said, nodding toward the deeper forest farther from the river. "You go see if you can find some good branches to put between them. And some food, maybe. Be back here before sundown. We'll try to get this sonofab.i.t.c.h ready to haul down to the water in the morning."

"Yeah, okay," Ramon said. The man spat and stalked off to the south, leaving him alone. Ramon scratched at his elbow where the knot of scar tissue was growing back and turned to walk into the gloom beneath the trees. He realized he'd never asked the man his name. Of course he hadn't; he already knew. The dread grew in him that the other Ramon would think the omission strange. He had to be more careful.

The rest of the day was spent dragging fallen branches and wide iceroot leaves back to the campsite and making up the story he could tell his twin. He stopped once to crack open some sug beetles and eat the raw flesh. Uncooked, they were saltier and the meat slick and unpleasant. There wasn't time, though, for anything more. He tried not to wonder what had happened between Maneck and the chupacabra, chupacabra, which of the two had lost and which was still under the roof of branches, hunting him. It didn't change what needed doing, so there was no point spending valuable time on the question. which of the two had lost and which was still under the roof of branches, hunting him. It didn't change what needed doing, so there was no point spending valuable time on the question.

By sundown, he and his twin had gathered another six sheaves and perhaps a third of the branches that they would need to makethe raft floor. The man seemed pleased by Ramon's wide, soft pile of iceroot leaves as well, though he didn't go so far as to say it. Ramon boiled a double handful of sug beetles and his twin roasted a cooper's dragon-one of the small, birdlike lizards that inhabited the low branches. The dragon had an unnerving way of writhing as it cooked, as if the flesh were still living even though both brains had been cut out and the thin, pale blood drained from the body.

They made small conversation, Ramon careful to ask the man's name and background. Then they planned for the next day-how to carry the branches and sheaves to the water for a.s.sembly, how much more would need to be harvested, whether they needed to strip more bark to use for rope.

"You've done this before," the man said, and Ramon felt a pang of distress. Maybe he'd come across as knowing too much.

"I explore a little. When I can. Most of the time, I'm stuck behind a desk," Ramon said, trying to seem flattered. "Banking. You know.

But the money's good."