They were coming. There had been another group a while back. I had no idea how long ago; time was not important for me. The group back then had been woefully unprepared and paid the price. I had expected others to come, and for the same reason.
To hunt me down.
I sensed this group immediately. I felt their minds as they invaded the almost uninhabited space around me. I briefly thought about fleeing yet again, but what would be the point? Where could I possibly hide after they traced me to an abandoned Siberian mining town?
There were eight of them, all human males. They were clearly tired after their car ride through the endless birch-forest. The rutted track leading to this godforsaken place couldn't be called a road at the best of times. Now, nature had mostly claimed it back. They had probably taken weeks to get here. Weeks full of mud, stuck cars, gnats and cursing a hostile nature.
I had known where they would set up camp before I chose my observation spot. I didn't want to be too close to them until I knew more about them. I was just close enough to sense their collective mood. These men weren't just tired. Some were excited about what was to come, like hunters anxious for an easy, satisfying kill. Some were a little bit wary. Some just seemed indifferent, their minds empty of any emotion.
I didn't know yet if they were coming to kill me, or if capturing me was even an option. I would find that out soon enough.
The previous group had come with a lot of arrogance, few arms and not much preparation. They had paid dearly for that mistake. Some information about that debacle must have leaked back to the big-wigs, but I didn't know how much. I guessed that they had no real idea about what, exactly, went wrong, but this group was much better equipped. They looked as if they were about to invade a small country. Their employer obviously didn't want to take any chances, this time.
I watched them as they unloaded the off-road vehicles and made camp. They assigned two guards, but even the ones working were surveying the terrain whenever they could and had their arms nearby. They were definitely well-trained, probably active soldiers or mercenaries.
I had no clear idea about the exact nature of their weapons, as I used a completely different one. My mind was all the weapon I ever needed; it also was the great treasure those humans wanted. I had every intention of keeping it, so there was a clear conflict of interest.
They looked like they had come straight from an arms fair on Black Friday. Helmets with optical devices, body armor, assault rifles, even an RPG. They exuded arrogance, showing off their obviously high training level, showing off their toys to each other as if they were fighting for dominance in the pack. It seemed as if their employer hadn't learned much from the previous failure. Physical size and weapons weren't decisive then, and probably wouldn't be this time, either.
The smallest one was different, though. He was completely unarmed. He looked lost, like a clumsy technician who had inadvertently stepped onto a war movie set.
One of the guys came into view and I froze. Shit. I knew him all too well. Shit, shit, shit, what was he doing here? Why couldn't he just let me go? Had they convinced him to come after me? No. He was probably obsessed, by now. Seeing him wasn't good news. For him, this was about revenge, whatever the official objective might have been. He or I would die here, in this godforsaken and abandoned town.
Pierre was as large and over-equipped as the others, but exuded even more dominance and arrogance. It was probably just an act. I had defeated him before, and I guessed that he remembered this all too well. He was busy barking orders, obviously establishing his alpha role.
I tore my gaze away from Pierre and watched the smaller one, instead, the stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb man. He had no uniform, and apparently no duties, either: he just stood around, trying to not be run over by one of the giants. Compared to the cars, he didn't really look that small. I guessed he was completely average in size. It was just that the guys around him were so ridiculously big.
My curiosity about him was piqued, but that would have to wait. I needed to be patient. I needed to plan my moves well, if I wanted to survive this. These men, especially Pierre, were much more dangerous than the previous ones and I couldn't doubt that my life was at stake, which I definitely intended to keep. That unarmed guy was an interesting addition, but not interesting enough to risk losing this game.
* * * * *
I had felt their presence as a slight tickling inside my head from the first day. For a few days, I had watched them make camp and start to explore their surroundings, but they were never near enough to threaten me or for me to establish direct contact. That was about to change.
Two of them were approaching the old school that was one of my main hiding places. They could explore any of the school's buildings and I wouldn't be forced to fight them. There was this old garage to my right and a big shack to my left, and I really hoped they would choose those, mainly because I wasn't in them.
I watched them apprehensively as they directly approached my location. Shit. It was about to begin, and I didn't particularly want it to. Why couldn't they just leave me alone?
Both were bearded, burly guys. It was almost noon, so they had left their night vision things behind. The visors over their eyes made it difficult to see their faces. It was better this way. Empathy was a luxury I just couldn't afford. As usual, that didn't stop me from trying.
The bigger one must have been almost two meters tall. The sun illuminated his unkempt beard like a shockingly red lantern. He approached the old school, seemingly without a care in the world. Either he had no real battle experience at all, or winning every fight he'd been in so far had made him careless. I guessed it was the latter.
The other man was slightly shorter, but still much larger than I was, or even Mr. Accountant. All I could see of him was a dark, rather short beard. He was walking more cautiously, constantly assessing the situation and looking for cover. He was clearly the less arrogant, thus the more dangerous one, so I chose him. He was close enough, so I tuned in to his mind.
What a hellhole. I've been in a lot of shitholes, but this tops everything. This place reeks of death. One more won't matter. Get the target and get out of here. Siberia. Of all places.
Shit, the boss' speech was sure fucked up. He tried to hide it, but he almost shit his pants, the little fucker. How can they just dump us into this mission with so little information? Assholes. I bet they know exactly what's going on. 100,000 in cash. Holy shit. For a few days and one bullet into the right head. Almost too good to be true. Shit. That's exactly the problem. If it seems too good to be true, it usually is. Still, how am I supposed to walk away from 100 grand?
Maybe I should retire after this. I mean, 100 grand... Shit... I still owe Juan 23 grand for that lousy Mustang. Okay, what's 100 minus 23? Eighty-seven is still a lot, right?
I just hope this is going to be as easy as they said. A monster, they said.
I mean, they could at least have told us if it's an alien, Bigfoot, Chuck Norris or just some psycho dude. All they told us is that the thing is dangerous. Big surprise. It must be to make them throw that much money, seven men and one shrink boy at it.
Man, I don't like this. They could at least have told us what happened to the other guys. Why didn't they? Damn fuckers. They either have no idea themselves, or they think it would scare us off. Shit, I don't like that. I have no problem with a good hunt as long as I'm the hunter.
Look at Erik, the dumb shit. He prances around like this is a Sunday picnic. Yeah, having a bullet catcher like him is always a good thing. Says that he fought in Yemen. If he did, some facts point to his having survived it. I wonder if he strolled around like this back then. He just doesn't take this shit seriously enough.
"Aaah."
What the fuck is he doing? Jumping around and holding his foot like an idiot. Are all Swedes idiots or just this one?
"What the fuck have you done, Erik?"
"Fuck, Aaron. I stepped on some kind of nail. Look."
He points at his foot like a hurt school girl. Well, I'm not about to kiss it to make it better. Let me take a closer look. Wow, that's a hell of a nail. There is a vicious, barbed blade-like thing sticking out of the top of the shoe, having gone all the way through his thick sole and his foot. How the fuck could he have stepped into that? By being an ignorant klutz, that's how.