Chapter 67: Chapter 67 - The Hunter Mutant
Malcolm watched it move. It slid between them slow and careful, like a hand feeling for a seam. Its clicks were soft now, curious. It padded past Kyle and stopped a foot from Ruben, head tilting as if listening to something only it could hear.
He did not wait for it to finish. He raised the rifle and fired.
The bullet slammed into the creature’s skull. The thing staggered, a wet crack filling the air, shrieking. For a beat Malcolm thought it was over.
But it still moved.
Then a dark slick spilled from the wound. It looked like oil and it steamed in the cold. The black fluid ran down its gray skin and pooled in the snow.
Ruben’s voice cracked. "It didn’t die?"
"It’s bleeding," Kyle said, his tone high and shaking. "It’s fucking bleeding and it’s still moving."
The creature twitched. Its body jerked like something was pulling it from the inside.
Malcolm steadied his aim. "Stay on it. Hit the head."
He fired again, the rifle bucking in his hands. The creature screamed, the sound thin and metal-like.
Andrei shouted, "It won’t die!"
The thing surged forward, fast and wild, limbs slamming against the ground. Snow exploded around them.
"It’s not dying!" Kyle shouted. His rifle clicked empty. "It’s not fucking dying!"
Andrei tried to back up but slipped on the snow. The creature’s hand caught him as it turned. The fingers ripped through his sleeve and opened his arm.
He fell back hard, clutching the wound. "Shit!" His voice broke with pain. Blood poured through his fingers, bright against the black oil spreading in the snow.
Malcolm kept firing until the thing dove for the treeline. He hit it more times. It screamed and vanished into the dark, leaving a ragged trail of black and red behind it.
They dropped to Andrei. Malcolm ripped his shirt and pressed it to the wound.
"Stay with me," Malcolm said. His voice was a raw rasp.
Andrei hissed and bared his teeth. "Fuck," he said. "That cut feels deep."
Kyle had his head between his knees, retching into the snow. Ruben sat on the snow and stared at the dark line leading into the trees. His face was pale and his fingers trembled around his rifle.
"Is he alive?" Kyle croaked after he wiped his mouth. His voice was small.
"He is alive," Malcolm said. He tied the tourniquet tight and then wrapped the arm as best he could. "But he is bleeding fast. Keep pressure on it."
Ruben looked up, eyes wild. "We should chase it. We should follow and finish it now."
Malcolm shook his head. "No. Not like this." He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Andrei is hurt."
"And we just let it go?" Ruben’s voice broke. "It messed everything up. Hector is—"
Malcolm’s jaw tightened.
Andrei spat onto the snow, a thin line of red. "I am fine. I can walk." His face was pale, but his eyes burned.
Ruben slammed his palm against the snow. "We cannot go back with that monster alive." He swallowed hard.
Silence fell.
Malcolm remembered Hector saying it hunts. He cursed under his breath.
If they walked back now they would be candles in the dark, singing the route straight to the settlement. They would bring this thing with them.
He looked at Ruben, at Kyle trembling, at Andrei gripping his arm.
"Ruben is right," he said, voice flat. "We cannot go back."
"And if it comes back while we wait?" Ruben asked. "What then?"
"We wait for daylight," Malcolm said. His voice was low but firm. "We need light before we move."
Ruben sighed. "We are like sitting ducks here."
"We do not have any choice." Andrei said looking at the dark forest.
"If it shows up, we shoot again," Malcolm answered. "Until it stops moving."
Ruben cleaned the wound with melted snow and wrapped it with the last of their bandages. The blood had slowed but his arm still shook.
Kyle stayed quiet, hands gripping his rifle so tight his knuckles turned white. Malcolm kept watch, eyes never leaving the trees. Every gust of wind sounded like a step. Every creak of ice made them flinch.
Hours crawled by.
They barely spoke.
When daylight finally came, the forest looked washed in gray. Frost clung to every branch, the cold air still and heavy. Malcolm stood, rifle ready, and stepped past the barricade.
The light reached farther now, sliding between the trees. That was when he saw it.
Something dark hung from one of the lower branches ahead. At first it looked like a torn jacket caught in the wind. Then the shape turned.
Hector.
His body swayed gently, frozen stiff. The chest was ripped open from shoulder to stomach, ribs spread like fingers. His head hung at an angle, almost severed, the jaw pulled down in a silent scream.
Kyle lurched back, hand clamped over his mouth. "Why did it do that?" he choked.
Andrei knelt a little, eyes fixed on the ruin. "It looks like when they butcher cows," he said, voice flat. "They hang them up to drain."
Kyle heaved, but nothing came. He gagged and sank to his knees, pale and shaking. Ruben’s face wet with tears. He pressed his palms to his eyes until the pain went away.
"He wanted to go back," Ruben whispered. "He said he wanted to see his kids. He said he knew—" His voice broke into a sob.
Andrei closed his hands and mouthed words that might have been a prayer. The sound was small and private.
Malcolm looked away from Hector and checked the treeline. The trees were just trees in the cold light. The thought of Iyisha came without warning. Her laugh. The last kiss before he left.
He almost regrets not touching her the way she wanted.
He felt the memory of her like a weight and shoved it down. There was no room for it now.
He forced himself to focus on the here and the now. The thing cannot see, he thought. It hunts sound. He turned back to the others.
"We set a trap. We make noise on our terms. We bait it into the clearing and we finish it there."
Ruben blinked through his tears. Kyle wiped his face with the back of his hand. Andrei opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it. The wind moved through the branches and a single, distant click answered them, cold and patient.
