.x.

It was Scar who led the way back into the passage where we'd been ambushed. He didn't take me by the arm and pull me behind him. There was no need for that now, and he knew it. I would follow willingly, and deep within the furthest reaches of my mind, a part of me was screaming frantically at that fact. I have no other choice, I thought silently, desperately, knowing all the while it wasn't the entire truth. I clenched my jaw then and purposefully cast the protesting voices back into the widening void of my thoughts so they would haunt me no more.

I had enough demons as it was.

In the tunnel we joined again with Scale and Tank. Both were upright, both were bleeding, but the growls they gave upon seeing Scar and I was enough to convince me they were alright. Steaming carcasses littered the floor, and as we approached I was careful to avoid the widening pools of alien blood. Scale gestured to me as we halted with an inquisitive noise. Scar replied with a short bark and a thump to his chest. He'd just told everyone, I knew instinctively, what I'd just done—that I'd killed another alien on my own. Seeing from the corner of my eye Tank's arm being raised, I managed to sidestep his traditional—and painful—backslap of congratulations.

The abrupt movement pulled at my side, and I placed a hand there in order to alleviate the pain. I had no idea whether one of my ribs was bruised or not, but it felt like it. Scar had bent over one of the carcasses and was sawing fingers loose, and Tank had strode out into the cavern perhaps to look at my kill. As I stretched tentatively and probed my side gently I became aware of Scale watching in silence. Knowing weakness was frowned upon by the hunters, I stopped what I was doing and instead walked over to lean against the wall some several feet from the battle carnage. Breathing deep, I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket to see the slashes I'd sustained when the alien had tackled me. They weren't deep, but they would leave marks, which didn't really bother me when I considered the fact that both my arms were now and forever going to be masses of scar tissue.

Scale's soft growl warned me of his approach, and as he stopped in front of me I eyed him warily. Of the three, I perceived Scale to be the most reserved, the most stoic. Tank was undoubtedly more exuberant than his comrades, and Scar evened out the group as a mixture of both with a sense of humor I found both bizarre and disconcertingly entertaining. Scale had something in his hand, and as he held it out open palmed in front of me I stared at it for a moment. It looked for all the world like a piece of dried meat jerky, like the kind I brought with me on my tours and expeditions. Scale rumbled quietly at my hesitation, and with some trepidation I took it from him. He didn't move away, but watched me closely, and I knew he wasn't going to leave until I'd at least tried this … food … he'd given me.

I tore off a piece with my teeth, and the moment the substance touched my tongue I was in agony. It tasted like chemicals, like acid, like anything I've ever eaten that was awful, and it was with great force of will that I managed not to gag and vomit all over Scale's chest. Instead I closed my eyes and tried to suppress my rising gorge as I continued to chew. It was with great relief I heard Scale's heavy footsteps recede, moving towards the other two hunters and, opening my eyes to find his back turned to me, I leaned over and hastily spit all of the vile stuff onto the floor. After several minutes I could still taste it in my mouth, but I rose and hastily stuffed the rest of the strange food into my pocket so Scale wouldn't notice I had any left. I felt queasy now, but I supposed it would fade in time. I hoped it would. They predators weren't going to think much of me if I was laid low by their version of food.

This incident gave rise immediately to new concerns. I had neither food nor water with me, and sooner rather than later I was going to need both. While I wasn't entirely certain the hunter's food could sustain me, I was willing to try it again later. The water that ran through these depths was most likely the purest a person could find upon the planet, as it stemmed from the aquifers and had yet to be contaminated. I couldn't drink it, however, if it was as cold as I suspected, for it would lower my core temperature and while it wasn't as chill beneath the surface as it was above it, I didn't need to risk hypothermia above everything else I had to face.

Alien fingers attained and hanging in a macabre decoration from his waist, Scar had straightened, and together he and Scale were conversing over his own three dimensional map. From the cavern beyond Tank strode forth to join them, and I watched the three somewhat disinterestedly until an urgent noise from Scale snapped me back to attention. Even from where I stood I could see the four tiny red figures depicting us on the image, and not far from where we stood there was something larger, something motionless.

Scar dispelled the image and withdrew his spear from where it rode across his back in one fluid, effortless movement. There were two distinct, sharp noises as both of Tank's massive blades flicked away from his arms into a ready position, and Scale had his shuriken in hand in an instant. Knowing what was happening, knowing what we would do next, it seemed as though all the complaints of my body faded, preparing me for the hell to come. I reluctantly released my own weapon from where it swung loose from my belt and gripped it so hard my knuckles turned white. If I'd been apprehensive before, it was nothing compared to the rushing tide that ripped over me now and left me breathless and trembling. One by one the predators passed me, and as Scar did so he tapped me twice on the head with his outstretched fingers with what I could only interpret as an encouraging growl. I stared after him for only a moment, trying to calm my suddenly accelerated breathing and telling myself things would be alright before hurriedly striding to catch up. And as my companions broke into a run, as I labored to keep up with them despite the ache in my ribs, I wondered why I felt the first stirrings of excitement along with absolute, unadulterated terror.

The hunt was on.

.x.

We ran hard and we ran fast, Scale in the lead. The passage we followed dipped and swerved, and on more than once occasion leaps had to be made to clear abrupt and deep crevices in the ground. Scar glanced repeatedly over his shoulder to ascertain I was still along for the ride, and I was both irritated and ashamed by this, but didn't stop to dwell on it. I could only afford to focus now on what lay somewhere ahead of us, waiting, waiting …

It was when I careened around a hairpin corner and staggered into the corner that I noticed something. My collision with the tunnel wall caused a small avalanche of stones to judder loose and fall in a clatter to the ground. Pushing myself away, I'd only taken two steps towards Scar who had paused and was waiting with an impatient snarl when the world around me began to tremble. From the ceiling a pointed overhang of rock was shaken loose and fell to land at my feet with a large crash. Jumping away, I steadied myself with a hand on the opposite wall, and as Scar snarled again, as I jogged to catch up with him, I realized with cold dread that whatever part of this underground maze we were entering, it wasn't entirely stable. The tremors faded away as I paced myself at Scar's heels, the spear I held rising and falling with the pumping of my arms. All I could see before me was the hunter's broad back and the rising and falling of his long hair. If something terrible lurked ahead in wait for us I was so not going to see it coming. I had no idea how far my delay had placed us behind Tank and Scale, but I hoped it wasn't much. Holding them up probably wasn't the best way of winning their respect.

Just what do you care about their respect? Questioned that despicable voice in my head, the one that excelled in reminding me of things I'd rather forget. I ignored it, ignored the implications of what it asked, and concentrated on breathing evenly. That oh-so-familiar burn had begun in the backs of my legs, and my lungs were starting to ache from the exertion. After being in the company of the predators, I was beginning to realize how much I had been disillusioned in thinking myself to be in peak physical condition. Of course, the hunters were another species completely, built larger, stronger, and more agile than any human I had yet to encounter. I was beginning to wonder how much longer it would be until my body decided it had had enough and collapsed when Scar slowed to halt in front of me; I did the same with considerably less grace and tried to soften the great gulps of air I was taking while attempting to peer over Scar's shoulder to see where we were.

So abruptly it made me jump, Scar's cannon fired and he moved ahead then swiftly, spear extended and held ready to throw. Straightening, my own weapon telescoping out to its full length, I saw then that Tank and Scale had already engaged our ultimate prey in combat. The hybrid creature stood within a small, circular cavern that was a small distance below the tunnel I still stood in. The ebony creature stood tall enough that its oblong head almost brushed the ceiling which I quickly estimated to be at least 10 feet in height, and falling forth from the crown of its skull were the long, thick strands of hair that I knew was a trait of the hunters. As Scar hurled his spear with deadly accuracy, the predalien jerked about with astounding speed and knocked the weapon from its flight with a careless flick of one long, clawed arm. It spun wildly end over end to strike the far wall harmlessly.

As one the three hunters attacked, darting forth and striking, retreating as another took their place. I remained where I was, frozen and watching the deadly dance before me with horrified awe. The predalien, which so resembled my companions but was at once undeniably altered, unmistakably different, repelled their attacks with savage viciousness. As the creature's long, spiny tail whipped through the air to strike Tank across the back of the knees, Scale's shuriken finally struck home and the many bladed weapon sliced a jagged line through the predalien's shoulder before returning boomerang-like to its owner. Throwing back its head, mandibles flaring wide and jaws extending, the creature let loose a howl that shook the very walls around us as its green, steaming blood spilled forth from the wound to splatter against the ground.

Tank was climbing slowly to his feet, shaking his head. The predalien lunged for Scale then, nimbly dodging Scar's ferocious swipe with his wrist knives. It struck Scale head on and drove him hard into the wall. The resulting impact shuddered the world around me, and I half-leapt, half-fell from the tunnel to land awkwardly in the cavern. Rocks and other debris were raining steadily from the cavern roof now, but my attention was drawn to the battle before me. Pinned by the predalien's bulk, using both powerful arms as a guard against the creature's wicked mouth, Scale was rendered effectively helpless. Scar was retrieving his spear, and Tank leapt into the fray with both massive blades swinging—

-the creature's tail angled up and to the side, quivering, ready to impale Scale through the side—

-and I was moving, leaping headlong ahead, weapon raised. My spear punctured the predalien's thigh as Tank's blades simultaneously sliced through its side. It reared up and away from Scale, ripping the spear from my grasp and thrashing, and in an effort to dodge its flailing limbs I staggered back. Scale hurled himself at the creature then, his own wrist knives extended, and as he connected with the beast, as the force of the blow drove them together back hard into the wall, Scar leapt into the air from the side, unseen, his retrieved spear held tight against him—

And then the cavern began to quake with a strength that sent me sprawling to the ground, crying out. Tank, caught off guard, had managed to remain upright but had extended both arms for balance. Pieces and slabs of stone, large and dangerous, were falling all around us, striking the ground with brutal force and crumbling. Through the dust as the cavern collapsed in on itself, I watched as Scar twisted midair to drive his weapon down, down—the predalien, off kilter from the quaking, unknowingly batted Scar out of the air as it struggled to stay upright. Scale had been thrust away and was tottering at the brink of a small but ever widening rift that had been created in the ground behind him.

The noise was deafening, a roar that filled my ears and reverberated in my veins. I only barely managed to escape being flattened by a huge slab of rock by scampering desperately to the side. I was distantly aware of someone screaming, and realized it was me. I couldn't avoid being struck entirely, for even with my arms held protectively over my head hard stones connected with my skull. I got my feet beneath me and tried to discern through the hazy chaos where the tunnel was when another jolt from the earth beneath me sent me reeling in the opposite direction. I felt something alive, something solid against my back and spun around—

The roof came crashing down, and heavy debris collided with me, knocking me to my back. I had only one instant to think I'm going to die! before I could see no more for the sudden and total blackness surrounding me. There was one brief, razor sharp wave of pain coursing through my body—

And then nothing.

.x.

"Ms. Woods."

Perhaps it was the fact that I'd been buried alive beneath tons of subterranean rock or perhaps it was a side effect of many blows to the head. Whatever it was, the voice came to me as though from a long distance, echoing slightly, and it caused my head to throb just to hear it. My body was awash in waves of pain, and I took a moment to simply lay still and feel the hurt, to try and ascertain the damage, before forcing my stinging eyes to flicker open. As I expected, it was dark. Turning my head from side to side availed me nothing. I could not penetrate the blackness, but what my vision lacked my hearing more than made up for. The constant, gentle sound of clattering stones upon stones alerted me to the very real danger I was still faced with, and with a muted moan I managed to arrange myself into a sitting position.

"Ms. Woods," said the voice again, and still it sounded distant and vague. I turned my blind gaze towards the noise, and found myself suddenly bathed in harsh light.

Holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the glare of what seemed to be a flashlight, I asked in a hoarse rasping voice, "Who's there?"

Who indeed? Who had followed us down here? Who had survived the cavern's collapse to find me here? I had a sinking premonition, for there was only one person belligerent enough, persistent enough …

"Why Ms. Woods," Reed said, and now I could make out his tall, willowy form behind the light, "What a predicament you seem to be in." He was laughing at me, I realized; the bastard was genuinely enjoying my pain. He crouched down near me and shined the light towards my legs. "Tsk. Am I going to have to impose upon Ana's talents yet again for you?"

There are no real words to describe the mixture of chaotic emotion I felt then: dismay, anger, fear, bitterness at the fact that of all who could be my savior, it had to be Reed Weyland. Resolutely ignoring how battered my limbs looked in the beam of his flashlight, I tried to speak once and failed for the dryness of my throat; swallowing hard I managed to ask, "Why are you here?"

"You and your friends left a trail a mile wide." He shifted, now aiming the beam around the cavern and letting out a low whistle. "This is a remarkable place; funny how you forgot to mention what was down here." He looked down at me again, a smile tugging at his lips. "Ready to discuss my proposal now?"

"No," I said thickly, working my jaws and tasting blood. My voice was still broken and harsh, perhaps made thus by the screaming I'd done just before the cavern's roof had fallen in upon itself. "You don't want any part of this, trust me."

"Oh, you've got something on your face there," he murmured, crouching and wiping the corner of my mouth with his thumb. The hand lingered, just out of reach of my teeth. I wanted so badly to bite him. "Not doing too well, are you, Ms. Woods? It's a shame that you'll have to die down here. I'll just go look for your friends myself. I am sure we can come to some kind of agreement without you. Though the tall one—he'll have to go. He seems a bit attached to you."

It was hard to think coherently through the sudden rage and fear his words inspired, and I found myself wondering frantically where Scar and the others were. Perhaps they'd been killed in the collapse; this thought momentarily stopped my heart with something akin to despair. Shaking it aside, focusing on Reed's half-shadowed countenance, on the mirrored, hooded depths of his eyes before me, I said slowly and with absolute conviction in order to hide my own uncertainties, "He'll kill you."

He leaned down and cupped the side of my face. "Not if I kill him first. While you were gone, we found a dead one down here. This invisibility contraption is really quite ingenious, isn't it?" For the first time, with rising horror, I noticed and recognized the strange, large, and awkward looking device that adorned his left forearm. Were the predators able to become invisible to each other? I honestly didn't know, as I suspected they saw at times with infrared, but what if they could go unnoticed by each other? Reed would have the ability to kill Scar if it were so …

"How will you kill him?" I asked then with no small amount of derision. I'd seen how much damage the hunters could take, and though Reed had an inkling of their total power I doubted he knew exactly what kind of punishment they could withstand. At least, I was hoping he didn't know.

As if he heard my thoughts, he grinned. "I'm sure they can't withstand the loss of their heads. Before you woke up, I took the liberty of setting up a bit of a trap for our hulking friend." He brushed a piece of debris off my forehead and motioned toward the entrance of the chamber. I could see the dim red glow of a laser array fade to blackness. "A push of the button and it's goodnight. All we have to do is figure out how to lure them. What do you think?" There was a mad glint in his eye as he hefted the spear the elder had given me. It extended with a snap, the blade wicked and jagged in the dim light. He flipped it over until the point rested above my navel. "I hear a stomach wound is the most painful. Scream loudly, Ms Woods; we only have one chance at this."

The weapon plunged down, and I did as he ordered. I screamed.

.x.

Dying—

I was sitting bolt upright, clutching my midsection, a sound of utter pain and terror emanating from my mouth. He was hurting me, he was killing me—

A growl then, from somewhere beside me, but I couldn't comprehend this. It was only when I felt cold, leathery fingers close over my shoulder and heard a growling trill that was familiar that I realized I was okay, that I wasn't hurt. Lifting my shaking hands away from my middle, I stared down to find that I was indeed intact and whole, that I hadn't been impaled on the end of my own spear … I turned my head then to find Scar crouched at my shoulder, masked head tilted to the side, metal banded hair falling over his chest. I let out a thankful sob and ran a still trembling hand over my face.

I'd been dreaming.

There was silence then, as I stretched my body to find that I had no bones broken, but most of my anatomy was informing me in one way or another that it hurt, and it hurt bad. Furiously blinking back tears of mingled relief, pain, and fear, stifling another sob, I stared around me, wondering how the hell I'd survived. We were currently in a very small area of what I presumed was the former cavern. All around us were piles of stone and dust, effectively trapping us here. It was dimly lit, but enough so that I could see somewhat clearly. Sniffling despite myself, I attempted to arrange my aching limbs into a position that would get me to my feet, but was halted by Scar's grip on my shoulder tightening. I sagged back resignedly. I didn't really want to get up anyways. What I wanted was to curl up into a little ball and forget where I was, what I was doing here, and who I was here with.

The latter wouldn't be easy, I realized, as Scar loosed his grip and instead moved around to crouch in front of me. I wondered how he'd survived, how we'd both managed to be trapped in the same space, but all my curiosity vanished as he reached up and slowly disconnected the two small hoses from the side of his mask. Immediately a puff of vapor rose up on the air, and with my heart in my throat I watched wide eyed as he lifted the faceplate up and away. I already knew what to expect, for I'd seen both Celtic and the predator elder up close and unmasked, but this was different somehow. As he lay his mask on the ground at his side I studied the strange, unique features—the four mandibles framing his toothy maw which now moved slightly, non-threateningly, the deep set and disturbingly piercing amber eyes that regarded me steadily (gauging my reaction?), the mottled, reptilian skin marred by the mark on his brow—the same mark I bore. He was intimidating, yes, but not frightening, although once upon a time he would have been. I felt instead an odd sense of relief, for we were equals now, face to face …

His chittering growl, clearer now that it wasn't muffled by his mask, rose on the air, and I realized he was waiting for me to do something. What does one say in situations such as this? Hell if I knew, and hating the awkwardness I now felt I reached out and did the only thing I could think of doing. My fingers found an errant lock of his hair, wrapped themselves around it, and tugged. Immediately his trill of amusement burbled forth, and I hid the smile I wished I wasn't smiling. Letting loose his hair, I let my hand fall back to my lap, and noticed then the blue gel smeared along a rough looking gash on his forearm. There was some along the lower part of his abdomen, too, which meant we'd been here long enough for him to treat his own wounds.

I glanced behind me, searching for a place to lean against because my head was throbbing now in harmony with the rest of my body. Slowly, agonizingly, I scooted backwards until what remained of the smooth portion of the cavern wall was firm against my back. Letting my head rest on the stone, I looked around me again with a bleak sigh. This was one hell of a predicament, so why was it I didn't feel all that worried? My eyes wandered back to the hunter that still knelt where I'd left him—ah yes, that was why I wasn't really concerned. His demeanor wasn't one of apprehension, so obviously he knew we could escape this situation. Or so I hoped.

"What do we do now?" I asked tiredly, my voice sounding rough as it had in my dream. Memories of that nightmare rose up suddenly, but I firmly locked them away.

Grumbling, Scar left his mask lying where it was, gaining his feet and coming to my side. He settled himself down beside me, maintaining a distance that I was suddenly absurdly grateful for, careful not to touch me. He removed something from a small pouch at his side and handed it to me; seeing it to be more of the dried substance Scale had gifted me with earlier I shook my head vehemently.

"No. No thank you." I said when he protested with a growl, lower mandibles flaring slightly. Just the recollection of what it tasted like made my stomach heave. Finally, with an exasperated snort, Scar placed the stuff back where he'd found it, and relieved I let my head fall back once more against the wall. I pondered for a moment why we weren't moving, why we weren't attempting escape from this small prison. Perhaps Scar felt as I did, which was weary, battered, and somewhat broken. Perhaps he was allowing this brief recess so that we could regain our strength. I thought then of Tank and Scale and wondered how they had fared. Were they still alive? And the predalien—had it been crushed to death? I hoped it had been, although I was aware that such a demise would be disappointing to the predators as they had after all come all the way down here just to hunt it.

I watched through heavy lidded eyes as Scar withdrew his shuriken from his waist and triggered it so all the blades extended. From another place this time unseen by me he produced a large grey flat stone and began to carefully sharpen the shuriken. The sound the stone made as it honed the razor edges was almost soothing. It occurred to me that it was incongruous that I should think such when seated next to me was an eight foot killing machine. I couldn't help the weariness that descended upon me, nor did I care to. I was exhausted and hurting and all I wanted was rest, however little. I didn't realize my eyes had closed until my head fell forward over my chest. Blinking, I jerked it upright and turned to see Scar watching, rumbling softly with laughter.

"I'm tired," I muttered defensively, rubbing at my aching eyes.

He grumbled something then, but I didn't bother paying attention. When I felt his bulk settle close to me suddenly, however, I made a noise of protest. Our bodies were touching, but he merely picked up his shuriken and whetstone and began again the task of sharpening his weapon. I stared at him with mingled suspicion and nervousness for a moment. Being trapped alone with a predator that I was almost certain had affection for me gave way to all sorts of unpleasant visions in my head. Several minutes passed and he effectively ignored me. Confused and a little irritated I closed my eyes and leaned back once more.

Minutes later, I came awake slowly, eyes focusing on the knife Scar now held and was steadfastly sharpening. It took me a moment to realize my head was resting against his arm. Withdrawing so quickly it hurt I felt a furious blush creep into my cheeks. Scar had paused in what he was doing. I glanced up and met his even yellow gaze, and then with a short rumble he turned his attention again to his weapon. He hadn't threatened me, nor had he made any disparaging motions. Sudden insight made me feel slightly sheepish, for he simply acknowledged that I was weary and had moved closer by way of offering me a place to rest my head.

Biting my lip, torn by this seemingly incongruous gesture, I warred with myself for several minutes. Finally, with an audible sigh, I settled back against the wall and let my head rest against his arm. He continued with his task, every now and then emitting a chitter or growl, and it was to those sounds I let myself drift away.

Before I was totally lost to the oblivion promised by sleep, insidious voices clamored to be heard, telling me that I shouldn't be doing this, that I should be afraid and angry, alarmed by my behavior. And for once, I didn't care what they had to say.

.x.