Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator franchise. Any resemblance to oomans and yautja, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Bait and Tackle
The freakishly hot day eased into an all too uncomfortable humid night. Shadows shifted beneath the city lights and people went about their business, sweating and giving each other short-tempered answers to mundane questions. In such discomfort, nobody ever bothers to look up or down, left or right. Out of sight, out of mind and in this heat it was better to be out of sight and in an air-conditioned room. People could care even less if monsters from outer space arrived on Maple Street, moved in next-door, and consumed the family cat, dog, parakeet, and ferret. For the majority of humanity that night, ignorance was truly bliss.
Upon the tallest building in downtown, a wavering figure of fractured light and shadows crouched and peered over the edge of the roof.
"Hey, check this out," whispered the Blooded yautja on the roof. "I don't know what it is, but it's really creeping me out. It's fascinating though."
"Anything involving oomans always fascinates and creeps you out!" replied another yautja who sat admiring the human skull he acquired the night before. His invisible form shifted within a dark alcove as he turned slightly. "Remember that time in the tropics a while back? We were out on a jolly hunt and we came across that ooman tribe hunting other oomans and taking their heads. You were so fascinated and so creeped out by the whole hunt you wanted to join in the fun."
"We sure crashed that particular headhunter's ball, eh?" said Ny'rath as he turned his gaze briefly, away from whatever it was that demanded his attention in the first place. "By the way, those oomans didn't creep me out, they gave me the heebie-jeebies! No matter how many of their hunters we took down, they still kept trying to catch us. I had the feeling they were not going to stop until they had our heads. They also wanted to eat us too!"
"I distinctly remember saving your life that night. Oh wait, let me make a correction, my scalp distinctly remembers saving your life," grumbled Ghiz as he shook his long dreadlocks and returned the skull to his mesh bag. "When one yautja is about to fall off a cliff with a pair of oomans clinging to him, he does not grab the nearest yautja's locks as a safety measure. I found myself on the ground with you and those oomans dangling from my locks. I even fought off a charging ooman while on my back!"
"Do you always have to bring that up? I still have the oomans' teeth marks running down my arm. Darn things tried to take a bite out of me while we were hanging around," replied Ny'rath.
"Tell that to my scalp," snapped Ghiz.
Exasperated, Ny'rath just shook his head and returned to his reconnaissance. "Hey! There they go again and this time they have a lookout."
Ghiz crept to where Ny'rath crouched and looked over the edge. He could see a trio of oomans at the foot of the structure across from their perch. While one ooman stood a bit further away looking around, the other two were busy with a machine fitted into the wall of the structure. They stayed briefly and after taking something from the machine, the ooman pair rejoined the third and walked off.
"That thing in the wall of the building seems to be dispensing something the oomans need. Do you think it's some kind of food?" asked Ny'rath.
"No, it doesn't look like a food dispenser or beverage dispenser. Shall we take a closer look?" Ghiz clattered behind his mask.
"Sure, why not, we're done for tonight."
The two cloaked hunters made their way down from ledge to ledge and waited across the street in a dark alley until there were no more oomans lurking too close to their objective or any sign of their mechanical vehicles passing through. When the area was clear, they stepped forward and inspected the thing in the wall. Ghiz looked at a keypad closely. There was something familiar about the symbols.
"Does this remind you of something?"
"They're numerical symbols, like on our wrist computers!" answered Ny'rath.
"You may be right. Do you think it dispenses weapons of some sort?" Ghiz looked up suddenly when he heard a shuffling noise heading towards them. Cjit! They had been so preoccupied with the machine they did not notice the ooman male.
The male approached quickly and as the two cloaked yautjas stepped aside and into the shadows, they noticed the ooman carried something small and rectangular in his hand. He seemed hesitant and in one instance stared in Ny'rath's direction, but it was brief and there was no indication that he saw the cloaked hunter. Continuing with his task, the male gazed furtively around before inserting the thing he held into a slot. After punching a series of numbers on the keypad, the ooman tapped his fingers on the shelf impatiently, and then he pressed the keypad again.
Ghiz and Ny'rath held their breaths and remained deathly still as they watched the actions of the ooman male closely and recorded the sequence of numbers he had tapped on the keypad. A strange whirring noise echoed from the machine and greenish rectangular leaves emerged from another slot while a mechanical voice blurted something in ooman. The male took the leaves and walked away without a backward glance. If he had glanced back, he would have seen two hazy forms emerge from the shadows.
"The ooman forgot something," murmured Ghiz as he reached forward and picked up the rectangular card the ooman unknowingly left behind.
"Why don't you use it? I'd like to take a closer look at the stuff that comes out," asked Ny'rath.
Ghiz inserted the card and pressed the numbers he recorded earlier. The machine whirred and out came the rectangular leaves accompanied by the mechanical voice.
"Do it again," said Ny'rath as he took up the leaves and inspected them. Each had an ugly ooman face and numerical symbols imprinted upon them. "They're definitely not organic. I wonder if they use them for the waste pits," he mused.
Ghiz turned to Ny'rath with a large handful of the greenish leaves and said, "The machine has stopped giving. What should we do with all of these?" He let a few of the bills flutter to the ground.
"Let's get back to our base and think about it. I feel a little too exposed out here and look, here comes another ooman," warned Ny'rath. The two yautja hurried across the street and into the alley with a few bills trickling behind them. They failed to notice the ooman stop and pick up the fallen leaves Ghiz left behind.
Meanwhile, the new bank security guard operating the video cameras rubbed his eyes in disbelief and turned to his partner seated next to him.
"I just saw a bunch of money float away in the air."
"Figures, first night on the job and you're already hallucinating! What the hell are you smoking and where can I get some?"
"Do you hear that?" growled Ghiz. The pitter-patter of ooman feet echoed behind them and the two hunters turned as one to confront the ooman that dared to follow them. They were surprised to see an ooman female crouching and picking up the fallen rectangular leaves.
"We'd better hide in the shadows until she's gone. She looks like she needs the leaves for the waste pit," hissed Ny'rath as he started to climb up a fire escape.
"Wait, I have an idea." Ghiz took one of the leaves and stuck one end of the thin razor wires he was carrying through the leaf and bent the end a little to form a small hook. He tied the other end of the wire to the retractable spear he carried. "Watch this! I saw this during a workshop on hunting techniques of various life forms." The yautja swung his spear forward, casting the razor wire into the air with the end carrying the leaf landing not too far from the ooman.
Doris rushed forward and tried to grab the hundred-dollar bill, but it kept eluding her grasp. Whenever she came near enough for her fingers to brush against the crisp paper, it would slip away impossibly fast. She was about to give up when she heard a rapid clicking sound coming from the darkest corner of the alley. It did not sound very good, that clicking sound. In fact, it sounded like the creature from the black lagoon's death rattle or gurgle, or whatever sound she imagined such a creature would make on its demise.
Doris gazed deeper into the alley to where the shadows were the most impenetrable. Goosebumps erupted all over her arms and she started to back away. Out of nowhere, the bill flew at her face causing her to trip and fall, scattering the other bills she had gathered all over the ground. Doris was already on a short fuse due to the heat, but having Benjamin Franklin's face swooping towards her out of the darkness and frightening her even more pushed her over the brink.
"This is fine, just fine you freaks! You practical joking bastards can have the rest!" yelled Doris as she walked to the alley's entrance. As she was exiting, an opportunistic mugger attracted by her cries caught up with her.
"Give me all your mon—mffgh!" he managed to say just as Doris's knee connected with his groin.
With the practiced ease of one who has had her fair share of self-defense classes, Doris threw her would-be attacker into the alley, but not before giving him one more shot to the groin. Furious at how her night was going and ready to beat up anybody who got in her way, Doris stalked away.
"Females are all the same when they get angry," stated Ghiz.
"I couldn't agree with you more," winced Ny'rath. "What about the male? He's still writhing and moaning on the ground."
"He got what he deserved. It was foolish of him to attack an unarmed female, especially an angry unarmed female," growled Ghiz. The yautja knew very well never to get in the way of an angry female.
Just then, three other yautjas joined Ghiz and Ny'rath. They were returning from their own hunts that same night.
"Kla'a'tu, Ba'ra'da, Ni'ik'tu, how are you guys doing tonight?" asked Ny'rath.
"Not bad, not bad, we got skulls to prove it! We're heading back to the ship. Care to join us?" said Kla'a'tu. "By the way, did you two have anything to do with the angry ooman female we saw on our way here?"
"Why don't you ask that ooman?" said Ghiz as he pointed at the squirming male on the alley floor. "But first let me show you this technique I learned at this workshop."
"Oh gods, here we go again!" clicked Ny'rath.
Fish the hapless mugger was down on his side, cursing under his breath and clutching at himself. He now knew the meaning of his stepfather's last words before the authorities hauled him off to jail.
"Fish, remember this, never trust or mug anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die!"
This was definitely a bad night. He blinked and saw something next to his face. He blinked again and drew his breath in sharply. Right next to his face was a fifty-dollar bill and not too far was a twenty. Forgetting his aches and pains, he quickly leapt to his feet to pick up the bills.
Fish went deeper into the alley, looking down at his feet and hoping to find more bills. To his surprise, something fluttered by his left foot. It was a Benjamin, one hundred smackaroos to use in any way. It was a good night after all. He reached for the bill, but it slipped away. It scurried further away into the Stygian blackness at the end of the alley. Benjamin Franklin was not going to get away that easily. Darting forward, he managed to snag the bill.
Fish shouted in triumph as he held the Benjamin high, but his cry soon turned into a quizzical 'Huh?' when he noticed the thin wire running from the bill and into the black depths of the alley. A growl came from within those depths.
Fish took out his revolver and waved it around menacingly. "I found it and it's all mine! If you want all the money, you'll have to discuss it with my friend here!" He pointed the revolver into the darkness.
Suddenly, a strong tug nearly ripped the Benjamin from Fish's left hand and the thin wire bit into the flesh between his thumb and index finger.
"Sonuvabitch!" yelped Fish as he opened fire.
A series of roars erupted from within the blackness, and something incredibly powerful yanked once more on the wire Fish held in his bleeding hand, pulling him forward and up into the clutches of something that merged with the shadows and weak glow of the city lights. The last thing Fish saw before his life went out like a candle were the five strange metallic masks that appeared out of nowhere, purring and trilling in demonic amusement.
It turned out to be a very bad night for Fish after all.