.x.

It was amazing, I discovered quickly, just how much punishment a hunter could take and still be able to function with some level of normalcy. Leading the way once again Scar moved at a speed that had me following at a brisk walk with only a slight limp to his step was enough to let me know he was still in some pain. I let myself marvel at the swiftness of his healing in order to keep my mind of other things, but the further into the confusing mass of subterranean tunnels we went there was one question that hovered constantly at the edge of my thoughts with increasing intensity.

What will happen to me once we're free of this place?

If we get free, I corrected mentally. But it was a valid question, one that I found myself pondering despite my earlier resolutions. Down here reality seemed somewhat surreal, for it was down here that I'd admitted to myself I was attracted to a creature not of this earth, and it was down here I'd given in—somewhat—to the affection I felt. It was easy enough to acknowledge when the only beings present were myself and the object of my fledgling infatuation, but outside these caves lurked the world and the life I'd so conveniently chosen to forget about when I huddled close to Scar. Reed was still a problem, as were the rest of Scar's race—I had a funny feeling that relations between Scar and myself weren't exactly going to be encouraged. Relations—I almost laughed then, at the sheer impossibility that one word contained. Almost. Instead I gave myself a mental shake and decided from that point on to think only of survival, to not dwell on what I should and should not have done.

Time enough for that, after all, once we found our way out of here …

From time to time Scar would slow to a halt and simply stand, and I, drawing to a stop near his side, knew he was resting, attempting to regain some strength. On occasion during these pauses he'd trail a hand over unruly wisps of my hair, or lightly pat the mark on my cheek. Apparently he wasn't suffering from the same uncertainties I was. And when he'd begin to walk again I'd follow unthinkingly, wishing I had more to defend myself with than just a spear, and wishing he had more to his arsenal than just his wrist knives. He was deadly with them—I knew that much for I had seen him disembowel an alien single-handedly with one swipe. For some reason he looked so bare without the armor and the cannon I'd seen him wearing most of the time.

And eventually my musings led me to wondering about Scale and Tank, about why they had left us behind, about what they had seen on Scale's arm device that had prompted them to leave. The predalien was dead, but perhaps they wanted to ensure that the other aliens were eradicated completely. Or maybe they had no use for an injured comrade, but I couldn't really believe that. And so I remained thoroughly undecided on the subject, until suddenly Scar stopped dead in his tracks, grabbed me by the shoulder, and shoved me roughly to the floor. He followed suit, folding into a crouch. I glared up at him with the rough, jagged stones of the cavern floor digging into my stomach and was about to say something loud and rude when he shook his head, holding up one hand, and pointed.

My head turned in the direction he indicated, roaming the darkness of the tunnel ahead and trying to find what it was had caught his attention. It took me a moment before I could make out a shadow climbing a wall in a slight bend some several feet away, It belonged undeniably to a man, and I felt something unpleasant tighten in my gut. The only humans down here besides me where Reed and his own proverbial hunting party … I watched with bated breath as the shadow began to move, as it wavered while its origin began to move further away.

And it was then I heard the sound of many hushed voices.

I couldn't have risen even if I wanted to because Scar had placed one hand firmly between my shoulder blades, restraining me. When finally the quiet whispers and the almost inaudible scuff of feet over stone faded he stood, and I slowly did the same cautiously, afraid now that the men would hear me and return. Scar watched as I ran my fingers over the length of my spear nervously, and finally I asked softly, "What are we going to do?"

With a soft grumble, one of his large hands came up to wrap around the back of my neck and with gentle pressure he pulled my head down until my forehead rested lightly against the thick muscle of his chest. Though surprised, I didn't resist, and a second later he had released me and taken a step back. Blinking, I stared after him. His touch, I realized, had been a gesture of reassurance, of comfort. He lifted two fingers and then pointed again in the direction where the men had been standing. I nodded, resolute; deep down I'd known this was what we would do all along.

We were going to hunt those who were hunting us.

.x.

For what seemed like hours, we crept along, keeping just enough distance between us that faint noises from the men echoed back to us. Scar, as always, led the way one slow step at a time, exuding a sort of stealth I'd seen only in the large cats that roamed the wilderness. He carried the arm with the extended wrist blades slightly elevated, in preparation to strike should anything unsavory make its appearance. For my part, I held my spear in a death grip, having extended it before we began traveling. I knew that even with Scar at my side that a confrontation with Reed's party was going to end badly. They had more firepower than we did, and they undoubtedly knew how to use it.

Eventually the tunnel began widen, sides angling outward, until it finally spilled out into an enormous cavern. The roof soared so high it was lost to darkness; with one hand held up Scar directed a halt to our march at the mouth of the large cave; I half sidled around him in order to see what awaited us. I wasn't surprised, but I was dismayed, for standing maybe one hundred feet away were the men we had been stalking—they were seven strong, including, I saw with despair, their leader Reed. The men were in combat formation, spread out in a V, and I saw why an instant later.

Scale and Tank were facing them, motionless. Scale had a shuriken in one hand and a spear in another, and Tank's cannon was in the firing position, the barrel glowing slightly. Reed, shotgun cradled over his splinted arm, was shouting orders to his men, and I didn't need to decipher the words to know what he wanted. He was ordering the death of the predators, and while I knew that Tank and Scale could hold their own, I was still terrified.

"Aim low!" I heard him cry out. "Try not to damage their equipment!"

I heard the sound of weapon safeties being switched off, of rounds being loaded into chambers, and it was then I decided to act.

"Reed!" I screamed.

.x.