She wasn't sure how she managed to fall asleep, but her eyes opened instantly to a strong push of her shoulder. She lifted her head, looking at Torodondodondo's receding figure heading to the mouth of the cave and stood just at the threshold. Diwizama pushed herself up, feeling the cumulative soreness from the past two days. She stretched, parts of her back cracking, followed by her neck. She looked at the remnants of the fire, and quickly she tore off the scabs of the wounds on her shoulders, violently clawing at the one on her back to make sure it was entirely removed. She grabbed fistfuls of ash and pressed them into the wounds, keeping her whines of pain to herself. Then she was up. Her feet tapped quietly on the hardened earth, approaching Torodonodondo, who turned when he saw her coming and headed out into the jungle.
The air was thick with mist. Her toes dug deep into the moist soil. The sun was a bright golden color, coming in through the trees, angled down away from the east. She padded quietly behind the Paya, listening to the dead silence that they passed through. She kept aware of her surroundings, but could hardly keep her eyes off the powerful back of the one leading her to her end. She pondered on the old scar there, and resisted the urge to reach out and just feel that he was real.
The trees here were dense, and the foliage around was thick, often the best route to take required Torodondodondo to slip sideways between two trunks. She followed, but was thin enough to make it through facing forward. She wasn't sure where he was leading her, or what he was looking for. She knew this area well; there were many places that could tip the advantage to either side.
She squinted as they stepped into a patch of bright sunlight. She looked at the sky, holding a hand to shadow her eyes. Torodondodondo clicked at her and she stopped, watching him go ahead towards the trees. He turned after several paces and faced her. She glanced around as her heart began to pound. This place was open, with low bush, wide enough five elephants could stand about comfortably.
"Choose your weapon," he said and waited. She took her ba from her waist, touched it to her brow reverently, then extended it. The Paya responded by moving his hand along his body. Diwizama watched, enthralled, as pieces of armor fell away to the ground. He removed his guns and tossed them away, took off his wristblades from both arms and dropped them to the ground. He stood for a moment regarding his opponent, then lifted his hand to his mask.
A small burst of vapor came from the first, then second tube he detached from the mask. He pressed his hands against both sides of his mask, and with only a little resistance, it came away from his face. He slowly lowered it, holding it to his side in one hand. His four mandibles clicked together quietly as he looked at her through golden eyes. Parallel scars raked across his crest, extending down to the upper part of his face where they were deep; one of his brows was split wide open. These were old wounds, as many of them were.
Diwizama dropped instantly to her knee, planting the end of her ba into the ground, both hands wrapped tightly around the shaft, "you honor me, master, thank you."
Torodondodondo tossed aside the mask and removed his own ba from his back, extending it. He rattled a command and Diwizama obeyed, standing up, feet apart shoulders squared back. The Paya, her god, looked upon her with regard, and she saw no malice in his eyes. Yes, he would kill her, but not out of rage, or even because she was prey, but because she was a challenge. Only an air of calm settled around him. He flexed his fingers against his weapon, then curled them tightly around the metal.
"Die well this day," he said and Diwizama's chest swelled with pride, "remember the gods' practice."
"Hma'mi-de," Diwizama finished the prayer with a small bow of her head. The air became tense along with her body. Her knees bent and her arms moved away from her body. Torodondodondo did the same, mirroring her movements. His mandibles flared silently, revealing the small sharp teeth of his closed mouth. Diwizama bared her teeth in turn. She stepped to her right, spear moving diagonally across her body, gripped by both hands.
Torodondodondo moved as well, keeping her the same distance away from him at all times. He rattled a challenge over and over, trying to goad her into the first move. She looked at his body, the wounds there on his side and shoulder, and the one shallow but painful one on his collar. These would be sensitive to the touch, weak spots. He was surely doing the same thing to her, aware of her injured leg and shoulder, which had wounds from both he and Mbia. She would be careful to not allow him near the latter as it was the most painful.
His rattling ceased abruptly, he made a hissing noise, then his mandibles flared and his deafening roar shattered the silence. Diwizama did not flinch, but opened her mouth and let out her own shrill battle cry. She ran forward, swinging her ba with all her might. He easily parried the blow and pain shot instantly up her arms, still raw from the previous days' trials.
She didn't stay put, trying her best to read his movements by watching his muscles move under his skin, where they flexed and bulged. She scrambled back quickly, his ba cutting harshly through the leaves where her legs had been, and she raised her spear to strike his head. He ducked and the two moved away from each other. She would have to change her tactics, do the unexpected, or this fight would end the same way it had before the humans had interrupted.
She slipped her ba up so that both hands were gripping the spear just above the blade on one of the ends. She inhaled a breath, and moved forward. She shifted her weight back as Torodondodondo moved as well, advancing on her. He stepped forward, feinting a swing but drawing his ba back for a stab towards her stomach. She curved her body away from the point, and pivoted on the balls of her feet to spin in a circle, swinging her spear around, once high, then spinning again and dropping down, swinging low.
She was rewarded with a painful roar and Torodondodondo moved away from her. She looked up to see where she struck, only to find that she had just grazed his collarbone, and had missed his ankles completely. He was roaring angrily though, favoring the new wound for just a moment. She didn't understand why, it was barely a scratch, though it had made it past his quick reflexes. Quickly his show of weakness dissipated and he took his ba in both hands again. He would not fall for that again.
He charged forward, Diwizama, preparing herself for an upwards blow, but was caught by surprise with a hard smack to her wounded leg. The pain shot through her entire thigh and she buckled, dropping to her knee, then tumbling backwards to avoid his downward stab. She stood, limping slightly as she caught her balance and he was on her in an instant. Sparks flew as the two ba repeatedly smacked at each other. A few seconds of flurrying blows, blocking and attacking to try to draw blood.
Her body felt as if the fight had gone for hours, but the position of the shadows had barely changed. She was heaving, her chest aching with each intake of air. She backed away from him until her back hit a tree and watched him move to the side, then straight for her. His ba switched hands in an instant, and a mid-height swing turned into an upper jab, aiming right for her throat. She waited until the last second, then ducked, rolling past him as the end of his spear dug deep into the tree as easily as mud.
She smacked her ba against the back of his calves, earning a roar and he turned wrenching his ba from the tree easily much to her dismay. He smacked his ba against hers with enough force to send it flying out of her hands, stabbing into the earth at a low angel. She backed quickly away from him, looking at her weapon, knowing that if she ran for it she would die, but without it she would fare farworse.
He moved towards her without hesitation. She watched him approach out of wide eyes, then they closed, opening again determined. She bent her knees and spread her arms as if welcoming his final blow. He had his ba ready to deliver it. She waited until he was close enough to swing and moved forward again. He expected the same trick from her that she had done to Mbia by the way she moved, and swung his ba down towards the side of his leg, defending his dagger, but this time she threw her body forward rather than to the side, and crashed through his legs. He fell forward on his hands and knees, grunting and shaking his head in surprise, then the full force of her body crashed into his side, shoulder digging deep into the wounded and bruised flesh. He rolled over, claws digging the earth and legs kicking for traction to roll back to his feet.
He roared in pain. A small foot on his collar bone was applying enough pressure to cause his body to spasm in a single shock. His golden eyes opened, looking up at the woman, his black dagger in her hand, raised, poised for the final strike. He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again. She could see he was ready for death. He could see she was honored to give him a noble one. The blade lifted the breadth of a hair ready to descend.
Beeping. Diwizama froze. The painful weight on Torodondodondo's collarbone was removed and his muscles relaxed. The woman was looking at the black device on her wrist. Its small red light was flashing furiously, chirping its warning. She took off like a bolt, running to the trees, grabbing her ba as she passed, leaving Torodondodondo behind without a thought.
Through the jungle she ran, unable to feel the pain, the aches and the wounds of her body as she leapt over bush and branch. Animals scattered from before her, startled by her sudden appearance and quick departure. She had never run so fast in her life. Not when she was being trained, not when hunting for food, not when the Payas were hunting her. This was not a matter of survival. East she went, towards the rising sun, the shadows creeping slowly forward, encouraging her to her destination. She could taste blood in the back of her throat, her breathing was hoarse, and even the adrenaline could not fight off the pain of her exertion.
Finally she stopped dead in her tracks. Her sides were cramped, her legs twitched involuntarily, her breathing was heavy and deafening. Her eyes were wide. Her lips were parted. Her breathing slowed. Her village. Black suited men were everywhere. Men with white sweat-stained shirts were moving through the huts. Men in blue suits that covered their bodies, and plastic gloves covering their hands were coming out of her home. In their grasp, the gifts of the Payas. Though they were delicate with them, their touches were cold and unfeeling.
For several agonizing seconds, she watched them defile the sacred relics. Putting them in black foam in black cases and closing them away from the light, then lift them away and move them to a pile of similar cases. One of the men in blue came out with an artifact, and Diwizama's heart stopped. It was a mask. The world around her was inaudible past the beating of her heart, keeping time with the watch's alarm. Even the leaves seemed to cease to move as she lifted her hand. Her teeth gnashed together before parting in a cry; a cry of agony, pain, rage, horror, and sorrow. Her arm swung gracefully over her head. Fingers released the warm metal. The air whistled through the points of the ba. Blood sprayed through the air and dyed crimson the blue suit. The man was pinned to the side of her hut. His dark blood ran down over the bright red symbol he had been pierced onto. The mask he held fell to the ground.
Out she ran from the forest, Tordondodondo's knife in hand. The second man to die went down without knowing she was coming. The third knew, but reacted far too slowly. She dodged and weaved as bullets began to fly around her, shattering the huts she moved to, to take refuge behind. She crashed through the wall and stabbed the blade into the white-shirted man there and rushed out. The dagger cut cleanly through a gun as if it was cloth, and the wielder's throat did not manage any better. She whirled around the dying man as he gurgled on his blood, fisting her hand into his shirt and using him as a shield against the oncoming bullets. She threw his body at one of the approaching men, throwing him off balance as he moved to avoid it, and met the blade of the dagger, going straight through his chest.
There was a yell and the bullets stopped, just as she turned and killed the man next to his friend. Her eyes looked around for the other armed men and she saw one she recognized. Standing by the cases, was the man, Richards, a small handgun in his hand, pointed at the ground. She pursed her lips, seeing red as her muscles bulged. She got only one step forward before she was grabbed. The metal of the dagger flashed as she flipped around, ready to remove the offending hand but then there was another. Both of her wrists were seized, and her shoulders and one hand pulled violently on her tresses.
She growled and snarled, screamed and cursed, fought and writhed, but it was to no avail, she had taken far too much of a toll on her body to fight against the hands that seized her and wrestled Torodondodondo's dagger away from her. She was forced forward, despite all that she tried to get free. Even though she managed to free her wrist or shoulder, there were three other hands digging painfully into her skin. She was forced down, her knees smacking painfully to the ground and she winced as pain went through her weakened leg. Her tresses were pulled down, forcing her to look up at Richards, who still held the gun.
"Well hello there Diwizama," he said, his pleasant words laced with venom, "glad you could join us," he reached back and lightly tapped the black cases behind him and she jerked forward, "looks like you were keeping things from us young lady."
"Those are not yours to have!" she spat.
"Nor are they yours really," he growled and bent down, taking her chin roughly in his hand turning her face from one side to the other. She stared into his eyes, defiant and she spat in his face. He flinched and let her go, wiping the saliva off on his sleeve, "but they belong more in our hands than in yours. I mean, do you know how easy it was to find and break into that safe of yours?"
The watch on her wrist was silenced then removed, tossed over to Richards who caught it and looked it over, "though kudos for having at least this much foresight."
"I will kill you!" she screamed and she felt a hard smack to her head.
"Easy Chuck," Richards said and looked down at her as she tried to focus again, "do you even know what it is that you have here? How much power?" Richards gently touched one of the cases, petting it, "do you even know what it is that possesses this technology?
"In 1897 a team of commandoes goes into Val Verde on a rescue mission," Diwizama's eyes watched Richards as he began to pace back and forth in front of the black cases, " They find skinned and decapitated bodies of a Special Forces unit hanging from the trees in the jungle. The team is picked off one by one in a matter of days, with the only survivor defeating the thing in hand-to-hand combat before it detonated a bomb that took out miles of jungle. 1997, the same thing happens in Los Angeles during a drug war but the police officer who was targeted by the hunter disables the bomb and forced the aliens to leave. 2004, an expedition goes to the arctic for an archeological dig. They encounter within a pyramid they discovered the same extraterrestrials with such advanced technology that their ancient weaponry far outclassed any firearm that the human race has ever concocted. Not long after the retreating aliens crashed back to earth and caused such devastation that a nuclear strike was ordered on a small town in Colorado to contain the damages.
"Two years later a whole party of these things goes down to Columbia and slaughters a bunch of gurrilla soldiers, and an entire military base. These things are killers, Diwizama. They hunt humans for sport. The company I work for, Yutani, wants to even the playing field for when these hunting trips turn into all out war" Richards turned sharply towards the dark-skinned woman glaring at him, "they're not some gods who have your best interest at heart, do you understand? They will slaughter everyone if they feel so inclined. Everyone."
"You don't know of what you speak," she hissed, "the Payas are more honorable than any human I've met outside of the Kure Iradandaanya. You are just greedy, you want their weapons to propagate more war, cause more pointless deaths and run down this path of dishonor. This will kill you, agent Richards, you are going to die."
Richards thinned his lips and sighed, "I guess there's no reasoning with someone like you," he said and she saw him flick the safety off of the gun with his thumb.
"Cameron," came a voice and Richards paused, looking over. Charles was suddenly on the ground in front of Diwizama, but he was not between her and Richards. He faced her, moving his fingers against her fresh wounds, "my god, you've been fighting one haven't you?" Diwizama saw the light shine in the eyes of the men and felt sick.
"We have a live one!" yelled Richards, and Diwizama could hear movement behind her, rushing feet, small orders here and there, calls for ammo, the movement of bullet chambers.
"I want darts in every gun! We want this one alive!" Richards called, turning his back to Diwizama. Her eyes flashed and she jolted forward, shoving past Charles and wrenching free of the surprised hands. She was caught by the other agent, his arms wrapping around her torso and lifting her feet from the ground before throwing her back to the dirt. She looked up to the barrel of a gun, up at Richards. He smiled.
He jolted suddenly, eyes wide. Blood came up out of his mouth. His body spasmed as he was lifted from the ground. Glimmering light rippled over the surface of the large hunter, his mask gleaming in the sun as his voice crackled and growled, and Richards gravelly voice called out from behind the mask, "we have a live one!"
"Bogey!" yelled Charles as he dropped Diwizama and grabbed his gun. She whipped around and grabbed his wrist, her sharp teeth latching onto the nape of his neck and tearing violently. He fired repeatedly into the air, a sound that was echoed by many around her. She wrestled the man, hearing the sounds of carnage behind her. She fought him to the ground and fought and chewed until Charles ceased moving. She spat out his blood, mixing with the pool that was gushing onto the ground beneath him. She picked up the gun he had and turned, pointing it at one of the men firing on Torodondodondo. She fired several times but hit only once, throwing the weapon aside and moved to her hut.
She heard a loud growl and looked over at Torodondodondo. Her hands lifted, meeting warm metal and hearing the musical sound of the ba extending to its full length in her hand. The song the spear made as it twirled and sliced through the air was drowned out by the sharp sounds of Torodondodondo's guns throwing their blue fire, shattering many men in a blazing demise. He was struck once with a small dart, ripping it out immediately and backing up to the safety of the hut where the darts weren't powerful enough to penetrate. He knew what they would do to him.
Diwizama saw him studying his surroundings for what to do next. She looked over at him then at the men. She clenched her jaw and ran straight forward, drawing their fire. This gave Torodondodondo the opening he needed. Blue fire erupted around her as she ran. The old dry huts caught ablaze easily. Her feet pounded the ground as she charged forward, hearing the sounds of death and destruction as gunfire chaotically whirled around her. The men were in disarray unsure of what to do; those who tried to take charge were often killed in mere seconds. She made it all the way to the other side of the village and turned, ba ready. With Torodondodondo drawing their fire now, she began to take them down from behind.
When she and Torodondodondo met in the middle of the village, they turned with their backs to each other for a moment, looking around. The amount of fire was likely blinding the Paya to the heat of the men, but it didn't stop him. He shot forward again, blue fire burning through the huts and the men, blades slicing them to pieces. Diwizama pushed her spear through a downed man and removed it, smacking it against the head of another and cutting his cheek open before ending him.
The two fought like demons, and after two minutes of hell, everything finally went silent. Diwizama fell to knee panting heavily, looking at the bodies that were strewn over the ground. She turned, looking over at Torodondodondo. The Paya's mask moved slowly from side to side, surveying the area. He stepped forward, blood and mud pooling through his toes, and froze, his head turning sharply to her, remembering that she was there. She gritted her teeth, standing painfully and turned, hands on her spear. He body was done, exhausted, but she was ready to fight him again for that honorable death. He tilted his head, his guns folding onto his back. He turned his body to her, stepping forward slowly. She swallowed hard, feeling the sting in her throat.
He cocked his head to the other side, looking her over, then around, then back at her. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke in a gravelly voice that sounded like hers, "five minutes head start," Diwizama blinked in surprise as he turned, jogging away into the jungle. The young woman watched him go, and slowly lowered her ba. She looked around her, at the carnage, at the destruction of her village, then over to her home. She walked forward to the black cases, looking at them. Her eye caught on a silver sheen and she moved over, dropping to her knees and gently brushing her fingers against the mask.
"Nzereme," she said, her voice heavy with regret. She lifted the mask out of the mud, wiping it clean and set it in her lap. She heaved, feeling her eyes burn as she looked over at her burning village. She realized again, how alone she was, but now also realized that alone she was not enough to protect the gifts of the Paya. She was the last, and that was it. This was the final hunt. She moved over to the cases, opening one, then another until she found what she was looking for.
She turned and slid down to the ground, setting the wrist device on her lap and opening the latch. Small red symbols flashed up at her, lighting up the skin of her hand which stroked the edge of the warm metal. She sighed heavily, moving her hands again to the mask and looking into the face of the hunter. She ran her fingers gently against it, then turned the mask over, looking at the interior workings and the back of the eyes, and gently slipped it on.