She puts the chalk back in her pants, claps the dust off her hands and leans back to admire her work. “There,” she says, smiling widely. She steps back revealing the marred image.
Mira has given Nephil, aka Ophion, the greatest enemy mankind has ever known...a handlebar mustache.
Despite my feelings about defacing this priceless record of ancient man, I smile. And then I laugh. Even Kainda finds it funny. Our laughter grows with each passing moment as the alteration drains our tension.
But the momentary distraction is interrupted by a thunderous boom and a violent quake in the Earth around us.
“They’re close,” Kainda says. Her hand has instinctually gone to her hammer, despite no one knowing we’re here.
I step toward the nearest portal. “It’s time to take a look.”
The window-tunnel is spacious by underworld standards, so it takes me only a few seconds to reach the top. I squint in the bright daylight as I reach the top of the angled tunnel. Although the sky above is blocked by the ledge five feet over my head, I can now see the more distant sky, and the gleaming, wet jungle below. When my eyes adjust, I quickly see that I’m at least eight hundred feet above the base of a vast, east-to-west valley that’s thick with jungle.
And Nephilim.
I look to the right, just before the nunatak rises from the jungle and follow the sea of monsters all the way to the horizon. The ground shakes again, drawing my eyes to the left. My heart sinks. Tears well. My throat tightens.
“What do you see?” Mira asks from below.
The beginning, I think, of the end.
12
I have to force myself to not count. Not only would it take a while, but the enemy force below stretches so far that their numbers just blur together into a liquid-like smear across the land. The jungle obscures many of them, but I can see enough to know that this army is hundreds of thousands strong. I see hunters toward the front, slipping through the trees like wraiths. Among them are gatherers and thinkers, perhaps for control, perhaps to take part in the fight. Then there are lesser warriors, greater warriors, and high above it all, the winged upper echelon of Nephilim leadership. All this is expected, but there are some elements below that I hadn’t thought possible.
Feeders. A horde of them. The egg shaped monsters with stubby arms and legs, with the teeth of a great white shark, bobble forward, snapping their jaws. Their black, orb eyes seem vacant, but they move with purpose, eager for the fight...or the promised human smorgasbord. I don’t see any breeders, the morbidly obese, bird-like monsters that give birth to feeders, but that’s to be expected. They can’t even walk, let alone fight. That said, given the sheer number of feeders, it’s clear that the breeders have done their part to prepare for the fight.
It’s hard to tell from this distance, but I think there might even be some classes of Nephilim that I’ve never seen before. Some are stout and broad shouldered. Others walk on all fours, like silverback apes. I’ve always understood that there was more to Nephilim society than I sampled in my short time here, but I hadn’t considered the idea of there being more classes of lesser Nephilim. Given all the jobs required of any society, I suppose it makes sense.
But all of this is dwarfed by what follows the main force of the army. Behemoth.
Correction.
Two behemoths.
And they’re even larger than the one I faced. That creature stood one hundred and fifty feet tall, but these must be twice that height. Their black, bulbous eyes are the size of hills, each emerging from the sides of its head. Behemoths are essentially feeders that are allowed to eat and grow exponentially. They don’t die, so their potential for growth is unlimited. Given the size of these two, they might actually be two of the first feeders ever birthed. Their pale gray skin ripples with each step. Their long clumps of red hair reach out, dangling in the air as though held up by strings. Behemoths have feeble arms, much like their smaller feeder counterparts, but the living hair works like tentacles, able to reach out and snag prey. They breathe with mighty gusts—probably where most of the stench is coming from—revealing rows of serrated triangular teeth the size of hang gliders. I have a hard time imagining that these two, who are leaving a flattened forest in their wake, will have any fear of fire. Like their smaller brethren, behemoths can heal, and if these two decided to simply charge the FOB...well, it might be a very short fight.
“What do you see?” Mira repeats a little more fervently.
I turn back to the tunnel. “An army.”
“That’s it?” She sounds annoyed.
“A big army,” I say.
She lets out an exasperated huff, and I hear her climbing the tunnel behind me. She squeezes up next to my right side and joins me. “Holy...”
I watch her dark skin turn a few shades lighter before saying, “I know.”
Kainda sidles up on my left. She’s unfazed by the scene. “What were you expecting?”
The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)
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