Day of the Predator - Alex Scarrow [140]
She stepped forward until she was looking directly down at the creature with the broken claw. The pack, perhaps twenty of them here, became quiet; a forest of yellow eyes that glowed with soft fluorescence and narrowed with fear looked up at her.
‘… Help … me …’ The facsimile of a human voice came from one of the females. Becks recognized it as an attempt to duplicate the cries of the human called Keisha.
A part of her computer mind calmly informed her that a mission parameter remained outstanding, and could not be successfully flagged as completed until, at the very least, the wounded creature was confirmed dead.
But another part of her mind, a very much smaller part, a part that contributed thoughts as foggy sensations rather than runtime commands, spoke to her.
Just like me.
She remembered being born, released from growth amid a cascading soup of warm liquid, lying like this creature, curled like a foetus on a hard floor; feeling bewildered, frightened, confused. An animal mind of sensations, feelings … but no words.
She squatted down to get a closer look at the creature. The wound was in the middle of the creature’s narrow chest, and from the pulsing of ink-black blood down its olive skin, was almost certainly going to prove to be fatal.
‘You will die,’ she announced coldly. And then realized talking to them was illogical and pointless – these wild things were no more intelligent than monkeys. But, on the other hand, it felt like another way of processing, filtering her own thoughts … giving words to that part of her mind that wasn’t high-density silicon wafer.
‘I am here to kill you,’ she said. ‘This is a mission requirement.’
The yellow eyes studied her silently. Perhaps those eyes were trying to communicate something, pleading for mercy.
She stood up again and changed the clip in the assault rifle for a fresh one. The mission voice had no time for such an irrational sentiment and gently cajoled her to proceed with the task.
Complete Mission
Terminate alpha male of species
Terminate remaining hominids (optional)
Retrieve all evidence of human habitation
‘I am … sorry,’ she said. She cocked her head, curious. There’d been a strange effect on her voice. It had fluttered ever so slightly. It had actually made her sound more convincingly human; she’d sounded almost indistinguishable from the school students she and Liam had spent the last fourteen days in the jungle with. Those three words really had sounded so very human. For a moment she was almost tempted to say them once again. Instead, she raised the rifle swiftly to her shoulder, her bandaged finger slipped on to the trigger and beneath the dressing the recently vat-grown muscle tissue tightened and pulled. A shot rang out. Her finger muscles released and pulled again … and again … and again.
By the time the last of the creatures flopped lifelessly across the body of Broken Claw, the clip was empty and the barrel warm.
The jungle was still, every nocturnal species stunned into silence by the rapid crack of gunfire. For a few moments she listened to the shifting breeze, the muted rumble of the nearby river.
‘I am … sorry,’ she said again, and realized this time her voice sounded flat and emotionless, as it always did.
She turned on her heels and headed back towards the remains of their abandoned camp.
2001, New York
‘Where did you send him?’ barked Cartwright, swinging the aim of his gun on to Maddy.
‘I … I j-just sent him back … to help Becks kill the –’
‘You’re lying!’ he snapped.
‘Honestly I –’
He fired a shot past her head. Behind her one of the computer monitors exploded amid a shower of sparks and granules of glass.
‘Really,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t advise lying, young lady. I