Page 15 of Fated to the Hunter (Xarc’n Warriors #13)

Bael’k and I stared at the screen, waiting for the signal.

The original plan from the other warriors was to trigger a lure at the northeastern corner of the Dead Zone, drawing the scourge there while we slipped in from the west. It wasn’t a bad plan, but I had a better one.

The first issue was that the hunter shuttles and fences couldn’t hold for long, so the lure would need to be shut off fast, giving us very little time to travel unhindered. Second, the scourge near our entry point might not respond reliably to a lure that far away.

My fix? Use two lures. Start the first one at the edge of the Dead Zone north of Pasadena.

Once the scourge swarmed, shut it off and trigger another a few miles east. Then rinse and repeat, leapfrogging the lure and leading the scourge across the map.

It kept them moving, and a running scourge wasn’t tearing at the fence.

We’d used the same tactic in New Franklin during the worst of the swarms, when killing them fast enough just wasn’t an option.

So we kept them chasing a shifting target while we picked them off at our leisure.

There’d still be damage to the fence, but less of it, and spread across a wider area.

They were happy to try my idea.

The first lure was already active, and we watched the satellite feed as scourge from all directions swarmed in. It was fucking creepy and gave me the heebie jeebies.

The hunters here used the resulting chaos to thin the population before the summer swarms. Most were in their shuttles, firing at flyers and centicreeps. Others were stationed at the fences, masked and geared up, torching the scuttlers, spitters, and lungers that tried to break through.

“We’re activating the second lure,” someone said over the connection.

That was our cue.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” I muttered, settling into the padded passenger seat Curtis had helped Bael’k install. It was attached to the anchors usually used to secure heavy loads in the shuttle. I had a good view of the screen but couldn’t reach it.

But I could reach Bael’k.

I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, enjoying the connection. It calmed me and stopped my brain from infinitely looping over and over all the things that could go wrong. And trust me, a whole lot could go wrong.

Bael’k hopped over the triple-layered fences, each made from the same indestructible material as the nets they used, and landed on the other side.

From here on, we had to stay cloaked and travel low to the ground.

It was slower, yes, and it forced us to choose routes his shuttle could traverse without lifting off, but it was safer.

Flyers had more difficulty detecting cloaked shuttles when they were on the ground. And if we drew any unwanted attention, all we had to do was stop immediately and stay still until they lost interest. It worked outside the Dead Zone. No reason to think the scourge were smarter in here.

“Where now?” he asked.

I might have looked like I was just zoning out and staring down at the ground yesterday during the second half of our trip here, but I was actually figuring out the best route to reach our location.

That was just how my brain worked. Daydreaming?

Thinking? Zoning out? One in the same. It had gotten me in trouble back in school, but I’d learned to trust it.

We were entering from the west through a state park, and it was the safest spot to be.

Technically, we could just fly straight across some of the least scourge populated areas to our location, but that would require flying.

And some of the flyers had stuck around, ignoring the lure.

They’d be on us in a heartbeat. Our goal was to remain undetected for the whole mission.

That meant we had to loop north, following the highways up into a more populated area of the city and then back south again.

Another problem? The nest itself was just over the big hill to the southeast of us.

In fact, the Griffith Observatory, the place I’d originally thought was our location, had a perfect view of it.

Most of Los Angeles was covered in the downy white threads of mycelium from the scourge’s symbiotic fungus, and it feathered up the hill, reaching for but not quite touching the observatory.

I sure hoped we were correct and the key wasn’t in there after all.

Believe it or not, most of the 101 was empty.

There were plenty of scourge under , and around , but the highway itself was pretty clear thanks to the fences and the bridges.

There was simply no reason for the scourge to make their way up here unless there was food.

That was, until we saw the giant mass of confused-looking scuttlers and lungers. They blocked the whole highway.

The nearest scuttler just stood there, looking just like you’d think a giant ant-spider-mantis hybrid would look, complete with toxin-edged claws. I knew it was alive, but it stood so still, I wondered if it was asleep. Did scourge sleep?

“What the hell are they doing?” I’d never seen scourge act this way before.

They were always chasing after something or someone.

These just stood there like zombies. They reminded me of the infected, which was what we called humans and other Earth animals dumb enough to eat the scourge and get infected by the fungus.

Could the fungus turn on the scourge themselves?

“This is strange behavior. But the hunters here report many strange behaviors. Dead Zones are different than other places.”

We tried to go around, but that was impossible, so we made the executive decision to do one hop up and over the zombified group.

The moment we lifted into the air, I gasped.

The sight of thousands upon thousands of scourge all around us had bile rising up in my throat.

We were completely surrounded. We’d been spoiled on the highway.

I’d known there were scourge all around us, but I hadn’t expected to see this.

And everywhere the scourge’s fungus took hold, the web of mycelium eating away at the buildings.

The city was starting to crumble like old parchment left out the in sun.

“And we aren’t even anywhere near the nest,” I said.

“We are not near the mouth,” Bael’k corrected. “Nests the size of this one extend far underground. There must be a secondary or tertiary opening nearby.”

I looked down at the display on the shuttle’s floor, understanding chilling my blood. We weren’t west of the nest; we were right on top of it. Blood was still rushing in my ears when the shuttle touched down on the other side of the group, and we continued our journey.

***

I sat cross-legged on the shuttle floor, gear spread out around me like a junkyard of half-baked plans. Tools. Rations. Weapons. The bloodshot eyeballs on one of the Eye-Spies was pointed right at me like it was judging me, wondering how the fuck I was dumb enough to go on this mission.

It was still early enough in the morning that Bael’k was outside, securing the perimeter and making it harder for the scuttlers, lungers, and spitters to get in.

The estate had fences all around, so that made things easier, but remembering the thousands of scourge we’d seen on the way here, I highly doubted that fence would do much.

Luckily for us, the ritzy neighborhood had a lot fewer of them.

In fact, it was strangely empty, devoid of all life.

I guess that meant they had no reason for them to come here.

The topography probably helped. The scourge always followed the path of least resistance, and there were many hills and valleys between here and the main nest opening.

Also, the nest sent most of their soldiers to the north and east, fanning out into the continent.

It was relatively clear of the white patches of fungus too. A good thing, since no matter how good those preventative anti-fungals were, I still didn’t want to be surrounded and breathing in the spores for however long this was going to take.

I’d just picked up the offending eyeball when the shuttle spoke.

“I don’t like you.”

I froze. The words hung in the air, sharp and unexpected. I’d suspected Bael’k’s shuttle didn’t like me, but I hadn’t thought it would confront me when we were alone.

Even though I knew the shuttle probably had cameras everywhere, I instinctively looked toward the navigational screen.

As I did, my finger found the switch to the Eye-Spy in my hand and surreptitiously turned it on.

I’d only just connected it to my phone a few minutes ago, and it should record automatically, sending it up the shared network.

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” the shuttle repeated, voice flat and mechanical, “I don’t like you.”

“You’ve literally refused to acknowledge me the whole trip, and this is how you start?”

“You have made a mess of my floor.”

I narrowed my eyes at the screen, where the words it spoke flashed brightly, like it was making sure I didn’t miss them. “I’m prepping for the mission.”

“You’re reorganizing snacks.”

I looked down at the ration packs. Okay, yes, I’d spent a little too long deciding between the protein bars and the dried fruit. But still. I had to go through everything and decide.

“Once we finish this mission, you’ll never need to see me again.”

“You are wasting my hunter’s time and resources, using your flesh to lure him away from his ultimate mission.”

My flesh? Was the shuttle jealous? Or was this some over-programmed sense of duty?

There was a tiny subset of Xarc’n warriors, all cloned from the original hunter number 00952, that had flipped their collective lids when a contingent of warriors, originally bound for another planet, had rebelled, taking over their mothership and coming to Earth instead.

Something in the 00952 hunters had snapped, turning them against their own kind, and vowing to hunt that contingent down warrior by warrior by any means possible. These hunters also didn’t like the idea of warriors staying on Earth indefinitely either. Could there be a shuttle version of this?

“If you’re upset I’m taking Bael’k’s attention, just know that I’m not looking for a relationship or anything like that.

I didn’t even ask him to accompany me. Just deal with me until the end of the mission, and then you never have to see me again.

Better yet, help me, and the mission will go by much faster and easier, and I’ll be out of your hair. I’m not trying to steal your hunter.”

That was the truth.

“I have documented every infraction. You are seducing him with your sex actions. This mission serves as evidence. Entry into a Dead Zone violates established protocol.”

So the shuttle was a stickler for rules. Huh. How interesting.

“You are upset we are breaking the rules.”

“I do not experience upset. I do not possess emotions. I am a machine governed by a strict framework. My directive is to hunt the enemy. This scenario does not fulfill that directive. Removing the threat will return my hunter’s attention to our ultimate mission.”

Removing the threat? Holy malfunctioning AI on a stick! Did it just threaten me? It did, didn’t it?

I had to be careful. Deciding that no good could come of this talk if we continued, I ended it right there and did not respond. Instead, I focused on getting as much of my equipment into my bag as possible. There ain’t no way I was leaving anything important behind on this crazy bitch of a shuttle.

I prioritized the tools, weapons, and technical goodies, deciding to leave my extra set of clothing behind.

I also only took the emergency rations, the extremely lightweight but tasteless ones.

The only thing I couldn’t compromise on was water.

I took all the H 2 O I could carry because I was sure every drop out there was contaminated by the scourge’s fungus.

With my pack ready to go, I took a quick peek at the survivor forums as I waited for Bael’k to return.

There were dozens of private messages waiting for me when I logged on, and more than a handful of friend requests.

There was no way I could read all of that, but one of the handles caught my attention: The Ainsley Brothers.

I almost regret not taking you on this mission myself and giving up on all that fame and fortune. Trust me when I say that you have my respect forever, Kiera. And if you don’t end up joined at the hips to that equally brave hunter, I re-extend my offer for dinner. No pressure though.

Either way, good luck on the mission, and come back in one piece. The world needs its Keeper of Knowledge.

Jordan Ainsley

PS. If you end up mated to that hunter, this message DOES NOT EXIST.

That had me grinning ear to ear. But I didn’t reply, not yet. I had no clue how the next few days would pan out.

There was most definitely something sparking between me and Bael’k, as so evidently pointed out by his proper, rule-following shuttle. But we’d already clarified that very first day that neither of us was looking for anything serious.

But somehow, after the passion and spark I’d experienced with Bael’k, Jordan just didn’t appeal anymore. I mean, I still thought he was a great catch. Maybe I’d change my mind after the mission.

But as long as I was still here with Bael’k, I wanted to see where things went with us, no matter how temporary. His disapproving shuttle could suck it.