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

Just thirty seconds later, a vibration rolls through the ground beneath the base. The source is distant, but a potent reminder of what is coming, and what might already be here. I take my telescope and raise it to my eye, focusing on the distant choke point where the cliffs come together. Smoke and still settling dust obscure the view.

“What is it?” Kainda asks.

I watch a swirl of dust, rising as though something had just sped past. “Something’s out there.”

“They’re using the smoke as cover,” she says plainly, then looks at me. “It’s what we would do.”

Hunters. With the mine field destroyed and smoke clouding the air, they’re pouring through the pass and working their way silently toward us. Unlike the berserkers, the hunters will use strategy and skill. It’s possible that some will make it through to the trenches. And if that happens... One hunter with a sword, in a trench—it would be a bloodbath.

Get ready, I think strongly, but hold your fire. Gold Alpha—with a little something extra.

I hear grunts of understanding from the nearby soldiers as the orders reach them via Luca. I wait a full minute, while soldiers reload, take aim at a field of smoke and wait. When the stillness becomes intolerable, I start with the little something extra. A sudden wind sweeps in from the ocean, catching the smoke and pulling it back and up like a blanket.

Hunters emerge from the shroud, still and silent, surprised by the sudden and unwelcome exposure. They no doubt believe they are about to be cut down. Some must have seen what happened to the berserkers. Those at the front, hold their ground, waiting at the razor wire. The rest come in slowly, creeping toward us.

They’re too close for the tanks, and not far from the first trench. If they can get past the razor wire, and I’m sure they could, things would get bad, fast.

I quickly count three thousand men and women. Though the berserkers outnumbered them ten to one, this group is far more dangerous.

As the hunters congest together, somewhere from within the group, a man shouts out. He’s not speaking any words. It’s more of a punchy, three syllable chant that the others take up. And when they are done, to my great surprise, the nearly two thousand hunters inside the base, including Em and Kainda respond with the same, shouted chant.

“What’s happening?” I ask in surprise.

“It’s a challenge,” Em says. “To combat. As Hunters.”

“We cannot turn them down,” Kainda adds.

“The hell you can’t,” I say growing angry, and then do my best mind shout, Gold-Alpha! Luca does a good job translating the passion of my command and I hear it in my own head a second later.

Kainda turns to me. “It is not honorable. Hunters—”

“We are not hunters!” I shout. “Not anymore.”

“Someone must face them!” she shouts back.

I look to the gathering of hunters, who have taken up a formation and look ready to spring into action. “Then it will be me.”

I leap from the wall and am carried up and over the battlefield, soaring past rows of tanks and entrenched infantry. I land on the near side of the razor wire, just fifty feet from the enemy. An army’s eyes settle on me. I do my best to match their gaze, and then say, “There is not one of you who could stand against me.”

A grumble works its way through the ranks of hunters, but no one argues. After my little flight, they all know who I am.

I decide to lay it on thick. “I have slain your masters.” I motion to the base behind me. “I have set your brothers and sisters free. And I can do the same for you. The choice is yours. It has always been yours.”

“I will stand against you,” shouts a man. I cannot see him, but his words seem to bolster the enemy rank.

These are hunters, I remind myself. They respect action over words. A demonstration might help convince them. Sure, I could hit them with the shofar, but I’m not sure if that will be enough. If they don’t choose the light, they might not stay in it. I have to give them the chance to choose freely first. And if that doesn’t work... They might yet see what I can do.

I reach out my hands, directing a surge of wind to snip through the rows of razor wire. Spreading my hands apart, the wire shifts across the ground, forming a clearing through the death trap. I don’t really need to use my hands for these things, but I want to leave no doubt that it’s me doing it. Feeling a little like a mini-Moses, I walk into the clearing.

“Show yourself,” I shout to the hidden man.

There’s a distant shuffle and murmur as the man walks forward, shoving his fellow hunters out of the way. As the man approaches, I look at the other hunters in the group. They’re clutching their weapons, eager to attack.