Hunter's Run Part 18

Ramon chuckled, then shrugged off the yoke and rolled onto his back. The sky was darker now, closer than a cathedral's ceiling. He heard what might have been distant thunder or only a heightened awareness of the blood in his own ears. The man shook his head and turned away. Ramon smiled.

It was strange, not knowing whether or not he liked the man who was himself. He'd never seen how he was from the outside. Smart, resourceful, tough as old leather, but wound tight around his fears and ready to blame everyone but himself. All that insecurity and rage fizzing inside him, ready to explode at the slightest provoca-tion, strutting around like a bantam c.o.c.k, staring down whoever was nearby. This was what he had always been. Only it took becoming an alien monstrosity to see it.

But there was a dignity to the man, in spite of his flaws. And a surprising strength of will. He'd engineered Maneck's death. He'd sealed the stump of his missing finger when most men would have tried tolive with the open wound, and the fact that he wasn't dying of fever right now was a testament to his wisdom. He was even capable of a kind of weird compa.s.sion. Keeping Ramon from pushing on now.

Lying about Lianna so he wouldn't sound weak. What was he really like? All the pieces of the man's personality seemed at odds with each other, and they also seemed to fit.

The only thing that didn't make sense to him, even now, was staying with Elena. He couldn't see why his twin would do that. He understood why he he would have, but this other self could surely do better. Even if they were the same man. would have, but this other self could surely do better. Even if they were the same man.

He didn't remember dozing off, only waking when the man shook his arm. Ramon slapped a hand over the scar at his elbow almost before he opened his eyes. The man was squatting beside him, two fat jabali jabali cubs in his hand. Ramon sat up, his body protesting. cubs in his hand. Ramon sat up, his body protesting.

"Where did you get those?" he asked.

"I got lucky," the man said. "Come on, I've got a fire started. You can talk with me while I clean these poor pendejos pendejos."

Ramon levered himself up to sitting, and then stood.

"Tomorrow, I'll cook," he said. "You did breakfast and lunch both."

"Go ahead," the man said. "You want to make some food, I'm not going to stop you."

Ramon sat close to the fire, watching the man gut and skin the little animals. The wood hissed and popped, the flame fluttered with a sound like wings when a gust of air blew through it. It would take them another couple of hours to reach the lower riverbank. He wondered if it would be raining by then, and which of them would spend the night in the lean-to. Pushing himself as hard as he had would win the man's respect, but probably not so much as that.

"You from Mexico?" the man asked.

"What?"

"Mexico. On Earth. That where you from?"

"Yeah," Ramon said. "Oaxaca. Why?"

223 "Just thinking. You look like a mejicano mejicano. You've got that kind of face."

Ramon stared at the fire, willing the man to talk about anything but how he looked. Either the man picked up on it, or he hadn't been that concerned with the subject to start.

"What's it like, being a cop?" he asked instead. "You like it?"

"Yeah," Ramon said. "I like it. It's a good job, you know?"

"Looks s.h.i.tty to me," the man said. "No offense. But all the time, you have to take guys who are just trying to get along, and bust their b.a.l.l.s. And why? Because the governor tells you to? So what? I mean, who's the governor? You take away his power and his money, and you think he's going to act any different than the folks he's coming down on?"

"Yeah, well," Ramon said, trying to think how a cop would answer.

"The governor's a snooty Portugee p.r.i.c.k. That's true. But it's not all like that. Yeah, part of it's colonial bulls.h.i.t. Checking licenses and permits and s.h.i.t. But it's not just about that."

"No?"

"No," Ramon said. "There's also the real bad pendejos pendejos. The guys who sneak into church, p.i.s.s all over the altar. The ones who mess with children. I deal with those a.s.sholes too."

"Guys who stab amba.s.sadors, you mean?" the man said, his voice cool.

"f.u.c.k that. I mean bad bad ones. The kind that ones. The kind that need need killing. You know what I mean." killing. You know what I mean."

The man looked up. There was blood on his hands, red and darkening. Ramon saw something in the man's face-something unexpected. Pain. Embarra.s.sment. Regret. Pride. Something.

"There's all kinds of crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds out there," Ramon said, still pretending to be a policeman. "Most of the time, we don't care about people just getting on with their lives. But there's rapists. There's the guys who just want to kill people for no reason. And there's nothing worse than someone who hurts kii kii."

"Kii?"

"Children," Ramon said, surprised at himself for the slip. "Kids who are too small to defend themselves. Or even know what's going on. There's nothing f.u.c.king lower than that. That's why I'm a cop.

And people know it, you know? People know that on one side, there's them, and then on the other side, there's me."

Ramon broke off. He didn't know what he was saying anymore.

The words, the thoughts. They were all jumbled in his head. The Enye crushing tiny alien things; the European; Mikel Ibrahim taking his knife; the feeling of being Maneck and watching its people die.

Maneck was right. They shouldn't laugh. There was nothing to laugh about. If she just hadn't laughed laughed.

"You okay?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Ramon said. "I'm fine. I just . . . I'm fine."

The man nodded and turned back to the carca.s.ses, holding them over the fire. Letting the fat liquefy, the muscle tissues sear. The scent of rain was growing stronger. They both ignored it.

"I could have been a cop," the man said at last. "I'd have been good."

"You would have," Ramon agreed, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up knees. "You'd have been great."

They were silent, the only sounds the hissing of grease as it dripped into the fire and the constant rustling of leaves. The man turned the carca.s.ses, setting the other sides to brown.

"That was a good call, back there. When we were trying to get to sh.o.r.e. I didn't even see that pinche pinche rock. But you, rock. But you, ese ese. You headed right for it. We'd have gone over for sure if you hadn't."

He was giving Ramon an out; a way to change the subject. Even without knowing what it was that was bothering him, the man knew it was a kindness to steer away from it, and Ramon clutched at the chance.

"It's all about flow," he said. "Knowing how it looks when there's something disrupting it. It just feels different, you know."

225 "Whatever it was, you did a f.u.c.king man's job of it," the man said.

"I couldn't have."

Ramon waved the compliment away. If this went on too long, they'd cross the line into patronizing. He didn't want that. Right now, for this moment, he liked the man. He wanted very much to like his twin, and the cabron cabron wasn't often very likable. wasn't often very likable.

"You'd have done the same if you'd been steering," Ramon said.

"Nah, man. I really wouldn't."

And it struck Ramon that that might be true. Being inside Maneck's head might have taught him something about being a river.

About flow flow. Just because he and the other man had started off the same, these last few days had been different for both of them. There was no reason they should be identical now. They'd had different experiences, learned different lessons from the world. He hadn't lost a finger. His twin hadn't had the sahael sahael digging into his throat. digging into his throat.

You are not to diverge from the man, Maneck's voice rumbled in the back of his mind. But how could he help it? The world looked different, depending on where you sat. Maneck's voice rumbled in the back of his mind. But how could he help it? The world looked different, depending on where you sat.

They ate, digging into the cooked flesh with their fingers. The meat was hot; it burned his fingers a little. But it tasted like the finest meal he'd ever had. Hunger did that. The other man seemed to feel the same. He was grinning as he stripped the still-pink flesh from the bones. They talked about other things, safer ones. When the time came to start again, the man picked up the yoke.

"You go on ahead, clear the path," he said, shrugging the vine into place on his shoulders. "I'll haul this piece of c.r.a.p the rest of the way."

"You don't have to do that," Ramon said, but his twin waved the objection away. Ramon was secretly relieved. His body felt beaten half to death the way he'd been abusing it. But still, there was a problem. "I can't do it, man. You've still got the knife."

His twin scowled, pulled the blade from his field pack, and held it out, handle-first. Ramon nodded when he took it. They didn't say anything more about it.

Clearing brush turned out to be almost as arduous as hauling the raft. Every step seemed to require hacking away some bush or sapling.

And the knife was growing dull with use. Twice, sudden sheets of rain descended, pattering on the leaves and Ramon's shoulders, but the little squalls didn't last. When the storm did hit-if it hit-it promised to be rough. But perhaps the runoff would speed the river.

It was just before dark when they reached the water's edge. Ramon tried for a low whoop, but it came out sounding sarcastic. The man grinned wearily. They surveyed the damage their transit had caused.

One of the floats had lost a few ties and needed rebinding. The structure of branches that made up the bulk of the raft had suffered, but not so badly that Ramon felt moved to repair it.

"Give me the knife," his twin said. "I'll strip a little bark, tie that cane back together. You get a little firewood, and we can launch this motherf.u.c.ker again. Leave tonight, maybe outrun this weather."

"Good idea," Ramon said. "But you sure you don't want to get the firewood? It's easier than stripping bark."

"I don't want to take another f.u.c.king step," the man said. "You do it."

Ramon handed back the knife in answer. His twin smiled as if some tacit agreement had just been made with the weapon's return.

Ramon pulled himself back into the trees to the sound of the other man sc.r.a.ping steel against the whetstone. It was a fast-growth forest here, soft wood that rose quickly and collapsed. No centuries-old copperwood here. Just black-barked idiotrail and the spiral-trunked G.o.dsarm oaks. It would be easy to find fallen branches and double handfuls of moss a.n.a.logs to use for tinder. The question was how many trips back to the raft he wanted to make before they set out.

If it was raining upstream-and it was clearly raining upstream- the runoff could raise the level of the river anytime. It might already be running high. If they were lucky, the extra runoff might cut over some of the bends and give them a straighter path to the south.

227 Lost in his calculations, Ramon didn't realize what he was looking at until he felt the fear start his heart beating hard and fast. There, in the soft ground, were fresh prints as wide as his two hands together.

A four-lobed paw with deep-dug claw marks. Chupacabra. Chupacabra. Somewhere nearby was a f.u.c.king Somewhere nearby was a f.u.c.king chupacabra chupacabra!

He dropped the branches held in his arms, and turned to run back to the river, but he hadn't made it halfway before he skidded around a stand of close-knit G.o.dsarm oaks and found the beast itself, glaring at him with what seemed like equal parts hunger and hatred. The mouth hung open, the thick, split tongue lolling out of it. Its teeth were yellowed and sharp as daggers. Ramon froze, and the black, rage-filled eyes met his. He braced himself for death, but the thing didn't attack. Even then, knowing something was wrong, it took the s.p.a.ce of five fast breaths together before he noticed the flattening in the animal's neck ruff, the fleshy, ropelike thing buried in the chupacabra chupacabra's neck. A sahael sahael.

He let his gaze move past the chupacabra chupacabra to the form looming behind it. Beaten, battered, slashed across its chest and legs, Maneck still stood at its full, towering height. Its wounded eye had gone black and oozed a noxious ichor, but the uninjured one remained the hot orange Ramon remembered. The alien's arms waved for a moment, gently as kelp under the sea. When it spoke, its deep, half-sorrowful voice was perfectly familiar. to the form looming behind it. Beaten, battered, slashed across its chest and legs, Maneck still stood at its full, towering height. Its wounded eye had gone black and oozed a noxious ichor, but the uninjured one remained the hot orange Ramon remembered. The alien's arms waved for a moment, gently as kelp under the sea. When it spoke, its deep, half-sorrowful voice was perfectly familiar.

"You have done well," it said.

Chapter 22.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Ramon said through a tight throat. "You're dead!

You died!"

The alien shifted its head. The quills rose slightly and fell again.

"What you say is aubre aubre. I am not dead, as you can see," Maneck said. "Your task was to engage in flow as the man would. You have done so in accordance with your tatecreude tatecreude. My own function was compromised for a time, but has now returned to its proper channel."

"How did you find me?"

"The river flows south. You are constrained by the river," Maneck said. "This is a strange question."

"But we were traveling faster than you. We could have been on the other bank of the river. You couldn't know we'd be here."

"I could not reach you farther down the river than I could go. I 229 229 could not reach you on the river's opposite bank. Therefore I went where I could go that you could as well. You suggest things that are not the case. This is aubre aubre. You must cease to express aubre aubre."

The chupacabra chupacabra emitted a low growl, its body shifting and restless, but constrained. There were scorch marks along the beast's side where Maneck had shot it; the fur had burned away and left wide streaks of reddened, blistered flesh. Maneck had given, it seemed, as good as it got. The emitted a low growl, its body shifting and restless, but constrained. There were scorch marks along the beast's side where Maneck had shot it; the fur had burned away and left wide streaks of reddened, blistered flesh. Maneck had given, it seemed, as good as it got. The sahael sahael pulsed twice, the bruised flesh engorg-ing like a worm's. Ramon felt a pa.s.sing ghost of sympathy for the pulsed twice, the bruised flesh engorg-ing like a worm's. Ramon felt a pa.s.sing ghost of sympathy for the chupacabra chupacabra. At least when he had suffered the thing in his neck, he'd understood what was happening. He wondered how many times Maneck had punished the chupacabra chupacabra before it had understood that it was no longer its own master. And how many tricks the alien had been able to teach it. before it had understood that it was no longer its own master. And how many tricks the alien had been able to teach it.

"So," he said, with a bravado he didn't feel. "What've you got planned now? You can't just kill the poor f.u.c.ker."

Maneck paused again.

"You are not accurate," it said. "The man must not know of us.

The illusion of his knowledge will be corrected. You have proved yourself an apt tool. That will be expressed. The man is by the water now? We must approach him quickly."

"They're here," Ramon said. "The eaters-of-the-young. Those are their ships overhead. What if they're watching? What if they see see you?" you?"

Maneck seemed to hesitate, but it might only have been Ramon's overwhelming desire that made it seem so. The alien head bobbed.

"They do that, you know," Ramon went on. "They have sensors.

Eyes. Last time they came through, the governor asked them to help find a kid that got lost out on the tierra hueso tierra hueso. And they did it. Took them a couple hours, and they told us exactly where the little pendejo pendejo was. How do you know they're not watching me right now? Tracking me because of that man I killed? You go out there where they can see G e o r g e R . R . M a r t i n was. How do you know they're not watching me right now? Tracking me because of that man I killed? You go out there where they can seeyou and kill him, they'll see the energy blast. And you think they'll mistake that for a tree falling or something? They'll know know."

It was the purest line of bulls.h.i.t Ramon had ever spun. Maneck wouldn't need to fire an energy blast to kill the other man, not with a f.u.c.king attack chupacabra chupacabra on a leash, ready to do whatever it was told. For that matter, Maneck was strong enough to wring the man's neck like a chicken's with its bare hands without any other help at all. on a leash, ready to do whatever it was told. For that matter, Maneck was strong enough to wring the man's neck like a chicken's with its bare hands without any other help at all.

But he didn't have the leash in his neck to tell Maneck what his intentions were anymore, or help it judge when he was lying. If the alien didn't believe him, the worst it could do was kill him. He waited, chest thrust out like he was spoiling for a fight. Maneck shifted its body from side to side. The chupacabra chupacabra whined. whined.

"What better course do you recommend?" Maneck asked.

"You let me go back to him," Ramon said. "You stay right here.

You get it? Right here. I'll think of a reason for him to come back with me here. Under the trees where they won't see you, get it? Then you can correct whatever f.u.c.king illusion you want."

Because, he didn't say, we'll be on that raft again and out of here while you're still standing around like the ugly girl at a dance. Maneck was quiet and still as stone for the length of three slow breaths.

"Why would you do this?" the alien asked at last.

"It's my tatecreude, tatecreude, monster. I'm supposed to help you track him down, right? Well here I am. Helping." monster. I'm supposed to help you track him down, right? Well here I am. Helping."