As Carravino advanced down the slope, followed by his team, he was experiencing some creeping doubts. If Woods did indeed have hostile stealth tech, then they were already at a serious disadvantage. The dogs could track her - up to a point - but she had already proven that dogs weren't infallible.
"Not only that," He thought, "But if she has hostile stealth tech and hostile incendiaries, then God alone knows what else she's got!"
He'd been able to put together a team of four – Robins, Scherzon, O'Hara and Hoskin - the four who had not been injured or killed by the explosion. He and the rest of his men had thermal-imaging goggles on, but he wasn't convinced they were doing any good. Woods didn't seem to have left any kind of heat signature. Obviously, she had gotten a solid head start on them and now they had the night-time freeze to contend with. He wondered if the cold had interfered with her heat signal, it seemed to have faded away. They had also been following Woods's footprints as well as her scent trail, but now Carravino could see her trail had disappeared - blotted out by the treacherous whiteness.
"Keep your eyes open guys," He croaked into his helmet's intercom "Get the dogs out in front!"
The dogs were already tired and cold, and most of them had been too spooked by the noise and smell from the explosion to continue. The two that could still be persuaded were being urged down the hill by their equally tired handlers, over ground that was getting more thickly covered with snow by the minute.
Suddenly, one of the dogs began barking wildly, straining at its leash, and then the other began to bark and struggle too. The handler watched in astonishment as the first dog surged forward, somehow managing to break free in its frenzy to get at whatever was hidden amongst the trees. The other handler was dragged off his feet as the second dog leapt after it, both animals disappearing into the darkness, barking manically.
"Stay here!" Carravino snapped, as the astonished handlers made to go after the animals. They stopped and looked at him, unsure what to do.
As they stood staring into the darkness, they heard a frightened yelp and a howl of pain. Then abruptly, both dogs bolted out from under the shadow of the trees, ears flat to their skulls. They ran to their handlers where they stayed, whining and cowering. Nothing would persuade them to go on.
Carravino and his team let the handlers fall back and carried on down the hill. It was fully dark now. The wintry sun had hurried from the sky, abandoning them to the chill embrace of the night.
He made signals to the men on his right and left, obediently they began to fan out through the trees, the barrels of their pulse rifles pointed up high. He looked up into the tops of the gloomy conifers. There was no trace of heat anywhere, nothing that might betray a human - or inhuman - presence. Carravino felt himself shiver and it wasn't totally to do with the cold. "Woods is just a human," He told himself "Just one woman, alone against all of us… at least, I fucking hope so."
Scar kept a tight grip on Spyrro as he slipped through the ventilation system of the Vortex, moving like a shadow. He was trying to think of the quickest way off this ship, all the while turning over his lapse into sentimentality at the brig, "I should have killed those females, but I let my judgement be clouded by misplaced clan loyalty!" He berated himself. "The first two will take a while to recover from the Living Death but the younger one, she will soon be awake - and then she will raise the alarm. Why did I not cut her throat?"
He was navigating by memory - working on the basis that the ship had the same layout as the Shadow and the Cutter - trying to find his way down to the landing bay. "If I can steal a shuttle, we could get clear of this ship a lot faster than if I have to go out through the airlock again…. and it would mean Selim and Isaac are at less risk." He knew it would probably be best if he could contact his sons and tell them what he was planning, but he did not want to break comms silence unless it was absolutely necessary. Contacting them would very likely reveal the Chameleon's existence to the sensitive instruments of the Vortex, and he did not want to put the boys in any danger. He was deep in thought, trying to come up with a strategy, when Spyrro suddenly spoke.
"Father," She whispered, as they reached a fork in the tunnel "What is a… an outlaw?"
"A criminal," He replied absent-mindedly, trying to decide which direction would be the most direct route to the landing bay. Against his chest, Spyrro was quiet, turning something over in her mind as they moved through the blackness. Then she said, "Why did that other yautja call you a criminal?"
Mentally, Scar cursed himself for speaking without thinking. He didn't feel that now was an opportune moment to explain his rift with the clan, "Because I broke into their ship." He said finally, "Males are not permitted here, on pain of death. Now you must be quiet, my daughter."
She was quiet for a while, as he climbed down a long vertical drop, using his legs to wedge his back against the side of the shaft to keep from falling. When they had finished their descent, she whispered curiously, "So, that one you defeated was a female?"
"Yes!" He hissed "Now, be silent!"
Scar leaned down to squint through the openings in the vent grille, pleased to see that he had managed to locate the shuttle bay, but - his mandibles curled up in irritation inside the helmet - there were guards around. That wasn't good. Using the Bad Blood's superior camouflage, he could likely manage to steal onboard one of the ships, but everyone would notice an unauthorised shuttle take-off and then they would certainly be shot down. He needed to create something to draw their attention away.
He lowered Spyrro to the floor and pulled out the juvenile void suit and helmet he had brought, "Put this on, quietly."
As she pulled on the suit, he squinted through the vent grille again, gazing around the hangar.
She was frowning to herself. "If males are not allowed here," She said slowly, "Why did she smile at you?"
He growled in frustration, "Speak one more word Spyrro, and I shall make your ears ring!"
Her small face was still scrunched up in a scowl as he pushed the void helmet onto her head, but at least it seemed to silence her.
Scar reflected that, much as he prized her tenacity and stubbornness, there were times when those qualities could be - to use Isaac's crude phrase - "a real pain in the ass".
She watched the humans creep through the trees through the mask's heat vision. Night fall and snowfall had tipped the odds in her favour. Now they couldn't see her tracks and her superior camouflage would disguise her heat signature… but she could still see them. In the mask's heat vision, they stood out like flaming torches in this freezing forest.
She circled them silently in the darkness, keeping a wary eye on the automatic weapons. That was one area where she was vulnerable. Yautja armour was lightweight, to allow freedom of movement, and there were many areas it left exposed. It wouldn't give her much protection from bullets, but she didn't need to fight on their terms. Yautja did not scruple to take any advantage in a situation like this, especially when outnumbered. She knew that if Scar were in her position, he would be merciless. He would pick them off one by one, untroubled by doubt. She needed to call on some of that yautja savagery now.
Years ago, she would have felt some sort of guilt about killing these humans who were hunting her. Right now, she had trouble even remembering that she was human herself. She felt no conflicting burst of conscience within her. The need to get to her children, wherever they were, was stronger. If these men caught her, she was facing life in a prison cell or even a death sentence.
She exhaled softly into the velvety silence, whilst in her mind the resolution hardened into adamantine certainty, "I will do whatever it takes to remain free."
Carravino heard a noise away to the left. It wasn't a gasp, it was just a little sliver of indrawn breath. He looked round at the rest of his team, doing a count in his head "Robins, Scherzon, O'Hara, Hoskin …" He said "I want you to get in formation, right now."
As the other members of his team responded, he came up short, "Where's Hoskin?"
There was no answer, "Hoskin, sound off!" He looked for the rest of his team, but could only see Scherzon and Robins. Carravino's eyes darted around him but there was nothing: just avenues of snow-covered trees, stretching away into the monochrome shadows, snow falling thickly all around them.
Then he saw it, a dark shape in the snow. Approaching it cautiously, he realised it was Hoskin. As he got closer, he could see the man's eyes gazing blindly up into the sky, snowflakes catching and melting on his still lashes.
Carravino leaned down to see a darkly red wound on Hoskin's throat like a sickly, second smile. Looking hurriedly upwards he panned around him, pointing his gun into the trees. He could see nothing - there was nothing here, the forest was empty!
Then he heard a groan from O'Hara away in the trees to his left, a sound like a puncture. Carravino wheeled and began to move carefully towards him, then stopped dead when he almost stumbled over O'Hara's body. The man was lying face down, steam rising indecently from a spreading dark stain on the snow as the wound in his throat drained. Carravino wanted to turn him over, to see if he could help him, but knew that if he did he would be a sitting target.
"I can't see her, Sir," Robins said beside him, "I can't see anything."
Carravino nodded. He and the two remaining members of his team were standing back to back now, "Keep it together. Stay in formation."
As they stood, staring into the frigid darkness, his right flank suddenly felt cold and he looked down to see Robins convulsing in the snow, a throwing blade protruding from his eye. Carravino stood aghast. Three of his men already lay dead and all he could see was silent trees stretching away.
"With me Scherzon," He said and the two men stood back to back. Both of their teeth chattering.
"Where the fuck is she?" The barrel of Scherzon's gun was jerking from side to side as he tried to work out where the threat was coming from.
It was snowing more thickly now, fat white flakes drifting like clouds of eiderdown feathers in the gloom. As Carravino stared into the darkness he suddenly noticed something, a place where the flurrying snowflakes were moving strangely, coalescing around a shape, surreal in this place of black and white shadows.
"There," He whispered to Scherzon "I see her! Through those trees..."
"Where?" Scherzon sounded panicked.
But Carravino was suddenly calm, "I've got you, bitch." He said softly to himself.
He moved his fingers to the dart launcher on his pulse rifle, just as the shape began to move. Raising the gun, he heard a whisper in the air, soft as a sigh. Next to him, Scherzon gasped but he ignored it. The target he was aiming for was right there, right in front of him. He pulled the trigger and heard the zip of the dart in the cold night air. The shape began to advance on him. Now that the snow was so thick, he could dimly make out a figure - like a strange, white-dusted shadow; a silhouette made of snowflakes. He fired again and thought he heard the soft noise of a projectile hitting flesh.
The shape was still coming, leaping towards him now over the snow, the flakes surrounding it like an aura. He moved his hands to the trigger of the pulse rifle, intent on blowing her brains out. He managed to squeeze off only one shot but before he could fire again, she was on him, knocking the barrel of his gun upwards.
He felt a sudden agony and saw redness foaming up and he realised she must have stabbed him. Carravino dropped to his knees. Then, the side of his face was pressed into the burning cold. Pointlessly, he realised maybe a stab proof vest did not protect you against the blades of the hostile's weapons. As he felt the warmth of his blood draining out around him, he wondered why he hadn't thought about that.
Lex grabbed the dart where it stuck in her flesh like a fat mosquito and ripped it loose, but she knew it would have already delivered its payload, "It took Scar about twenty minutes to go under with two darts," She thought, "With my lesser body mass, I'll probably be unconscious much sooner, perhaps just minutes!"
Looking down at her other arm through the glitching of the camouflage, she realised she was bleeding too. Carravino's bullet had torn a long, ragged gash in her arm. Clamping her hand over the wound, she started down the slope again.
The forest was already beginning to distort around her as she struggled in the direction of the road, the heat vision of the mask no help, now that the tranquilisers were fogging her vision. She touched the control at her temple and switched back to normal setting, but it was no better. The trees looked weird, as if seen in a carnival mirror, and the closer she got to the foot of the slope, the stranger she felt.
As she staggered on, through the trees, she thought she heard the rushing, white noise of water. She stepped out of the treeline and saw a blurry ribbon of blackness across her path. In her increasingly confused state, she couldn't distinguish if it was the river or the road she was seeing, but as she set one foot forward, she felt it splash into icy water.
Her camouflage, already fizzling because of the snow, now shorted out completely but the shock of the cold revived her a little. She realised that the river here was not that deep and waded on, immersed in frigid water up to her thighs. Her skin was tingling with the frozen temperatures, but the sedatives cushioned her from the worst of the pain. She had no plan now, there was only the desperate need to keep going, to force herself onwards and reach some place of refuge before she lost consciousness.
She stepped unsteadily onto the far bank and limped onwards. Now, there seemed to be a hard surface under the thickening mantle of snow. Barely even able to realise where she was, she squinted to stop herself from seeing double and saw the wet, black asphalt shining through the haze of the tranquilisers. It seemed to pitch beneath her feet like the deck of a ship in a storm.
At that moment she heard noise behind her, just a whisper it seemed at first. It set off a nagging little warning in the back of her opiate dazed consciousness, but she had no space left for higher brain function. All her attention was focused on keeping her legs moving.
Then there was a roar of noise and screeching and a light that seemed to come rushing into her out of nowhere. She was deafened and blinded and then, suddenly everything went quiet, as if she had been plunged underwater.
Happy Friday! This week has been hell - good riddance to it.
LovyDovy7, glad to have surprised you, always good! :) I think the boys are six years older than Spyrro (or thereabouts).
Kassandra, you might have to hang on a bit longer - there's still a wait before they see each other again (also not sure if Lex is in the mood for a reunion!).
Turniptree - thanks!
Love n hugs ScifiTrash xx