I try to identify the Nephilim, but it’s hard without a head, and the armor made from feeder leather reveals nothing. What I do know is that it wasn’t alone. Large Nephilim footprints are everywhere. If I had to guess, I’d say there were four of them.
If the Nephilim know people are on Antarktos, and are out looking for them, I’m going to have to be more careful. No more watching myself on the maptrack. The thing must run on batteries anyway. Probably best to shut it off until I need to course correct. But I also need to do a better job of concealing myself. My pale white skin wasn’t a problem underground because there was rarely a long line of sight in the tunnels. But out here, where I can see for hundreds of feet, my white skin is a beacon. Well, it’s not quite anymore. I look down at my body. I wouldn’t say I’m tan, but I’m no longer quasi-translucent, either. Nor am I sunburned, which is odd, but not something I’m going to complain about.
It takes ten minutes, but I find a dead soldier who is in one piece and remove his backpack. Most of the items inside are crushed and ruined, but there is more dried food—fruit this time—and an olive green poncho. Perfect. I take the poncho and throw it over my head. The plastic texture feels funny on my skin, and the shifting sound it makes is annoying—especially with the hood up—but the green hue now covering my body will make for nice camouflage.
As the sun finally begins to set, I make my way out of the killing field and back into the jungle. I travel for several miles, stopping only when the sun has ducked fully below the horizon. I help myself to the dried meat. It’s surprisingly bland—I’ve had better underground—but at least it’s nourishing. I follow the meat with some of the dried fruit—apples, bananas, dates and raisins. The flavor feels so intense that I start laughing. I had forgotten how delightful sugar tastes! I eat half the package and force myself to stop. This isn’t the time to forget the discipline that kept me alive while living underground. That I learned how to ration my food from Ninnis is never a fond memory, but the lesson has served me well.
Some long dormant instinct tells me to sleep now that night has fallen. But I’m not really tired, and night is no longer a hindrance. The light of the moon and stars, even when filtered through the canopy, is more than enough for me to see by. And with my newly acquired poncho, I’ll be able to move swiftly without fear of being detected, at least not by men with guns. Nephilim and other underworld denizens will still be hunting. All the more reason to stay awake.
I set off at a run, occasionally checking my position on the maptrack. I angle my trajectory so that I’m closing in on the winding river, while moving up toward the lake, which, right now, is my destination.
I’m right here…
And I continue on this course for days. I occasionally come across cresty tracks and other signs of life and death, but no more people, and no Nephilim. I sleep only occasionally, during the brightest hours of the day. My eyes adjust to the sun and I can look at the sky, with my sunglasses on, without feeling pain. I suspect that in a few weeks I won’t need the sunglasses at all. The infection is gone, and my wound has healed sufficiently, though the frequent opening and closing of the wound has left a scar. Justin would say it makes me look tough. And he’d be right. It does look tough.
When I finally reach the river, just miles from the lake, I shed my poncho and wade into the water. I expect it to be cold, but it feels as warm and comfortable as the jungle air. But it’s no less refreshing. I drink greedily, wash days of grime and strong scent from my body and enjoy a few minutes in the direct sunlight. The sun is still uncomfortable on my eyes, but I want to condition myself. Not being able to fight in broad daylight would be a serious liability, especially now that Antarktos lies at the equator and the days are quite long.
But a few minutes is all I can take. I gather my poncho and return to the shade of the jungle. I follow the river inland and soon make it to the lake. It’s a massive expanse of water, reflecting the blue sky. Beyond the river, I see the beginnings of a mountain range. It’s a picturesque place, and it would be peaceful, if not for the knowledge that killers lurk nearby. In my dream, the figure I saw stood on a small beach on the right side of the lake. I can’t see that far from here, but I know where I need to go.
The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)
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