The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)

I come to just a second or two later, just in time to see Kainda shove Mira out of the window. As Mira screams, I’m mortified that it was Kainda who knocked me out and threw me, but then she leaps out behind Mira. It’s then that I see my attacker as he throws himself from the cliff’s edge and plummets down behind Kainda.

Kainda leaped, knowing I could keep us from pancaking on the forest floor below, but this...man—I think he is a man—jumped after Kainda without that knowledge. I quickly decide the man is insane, a theory that is supported by the white froth around his mouth, the wild look in his eyes, and the fact that his mud-coated body is clothed by the smallest of leathers. His hair hangs in long, clumpy tendrils and is coated in mud, but I can see the blood-red sign of his Nephilim corruption here and there.

A gust of wind buffers me and slows my fall, allowing Kainda and Mira to catch up. Mira doesn’t stop screaming until I catch her in my arms and say, “You’re okay!”

“She threw me!” Mira shouts.

Kainda reaches us, clasping arms with me. “Almost there!” she shouts, warning me of the impending impact with the ground. I’m facing up and can’t see the ground, but I can see the man above us, dropping like a bomb. His arms are stretched out toward Mira’s back, fingers hooked and tipped with thick yellow nails. His jaws are open wide, revealing teeth filed to sharp points. He’s more monster than human.

Kainda looks back over her shoulder and sees the man falling with us. “Let him fall!”

I can’t. It’s a thought, but Kainda knows I’m thinking it.

“This is war, Solomon!” she shouts.

I...can’t!

Whoosh! A strong gust of wind slows our descent and turns us upright. I still haven’t looked at the ground, but I feel the tickle of vegetation on the soles of my feet. I lower us down and deposit the now bewildered man ten feet away. We’re in a clearing between the jungle and the nunatak’s harsh cliff face.

“Weak fool!” Kainda shouts, and her anger catches me off guard. She shoves past me, unclipping her hammer.

“I don’t kill humans,” I argue, but my voice sounds feeble in comparison, like some part of me knows this is a losing argument. But I don’t kill people. That’s been my one golden rule. It’s why Kainda is still alive, and why her father, Ninnis, who has wronged me in so many ways was able to return fully to himself before Nephil claimed his body. But something about this feels different.

“He is plagued,” Kainda says. She takes up a defensive position between the man, who is looking up at the cliff we just fell from, and me. “Check your forehead. Are you bleeding?”

I pat my hand against the skin of my head where the man punched me. No blood. “Nothing.”

The man suddenly goes rigid, like his confusion has just worn off. His head cranes toward us with a kind of stutter, like there are gears in his neck. His eyes widen. His mouth opens. He charges, reaching out his hands and loosing a shrill cry. There is no skill in his attack. Only ferocity. This man is not, nor likely has ever been, a hunter.

As Kainda moves to intercept the man, I manage to say, “Don’t—” but then it’s too late. She sidesteps the man’s attack. He turns his head toward her and stumbles as he passes. He looks angry more than confused, or frightened. I look for some sign of humanity in his eyes. I find nothing. And then, Kainda’s hammer connects with the back of the man’s skull and a loud crack punctuates the end of his life. As he falls to the ground, I note that his eyes don’t change. When people die, or even when animals die, you can see the life fade from their bodies, as though the soul seeps out from the eyes themselves. But not with this man. His soul was already missing. Still, I am not in the business of killing men.

I turn to Kainda, anger filling my voice, “Hey!”

“We are at war, Solomon,” she says before I can express my distaste. “People on both sides are going to die. I might die.” She points to Mira. “She might die. Billions already have.”

“Not when I can save them,” I say.

“He was infected. He has no mind of his own. Only madness.” Kainda wipes the small amount of blood on the head of her hammer off on the grassy ground. “One bite or scratch from him, and you would be no different. A war ended from a scratch. Is that what you want?”

“I—no...” I’m not sure what to say. Was this man really past saving? Is he really that dangerous? “Who was he?”

“A weapon,” Kainda says. “Nothing more. Human once, but no longer.”

“How?” I ask.