The Last Hunter - Collected Edition (43 page)

36

I stare at the viscous blob that sat undigested in my stomach for so many years. It’s a horrible, sinister thing. And though it is immobile, the body of Nephil is alive with hatred. I can feel it, even now, reaching out for me.

That’s when I realize what has happened here. The spirit of Nephil hovers above me. But it has not tried to possess me again. Because it can’t! Not without a part of its body in the host. I am free! The elation that Tobias felt upon hearing the news of Ull’s demise must have felt something like this.

But that’s not all. The potential to strike a devastating blow against the Nephilim sits before me, wiggling like Jell-O. If I destroy the body of Nephil, his spirit will not be able to join with a body—mine or anyone else’s—and if he does not do that soon, he will cease to exist.

Fighting exhaustion, I yank Whipsnap from my belt, spin the weapon above my head, and prepare to crush the glob of ancient blood beneath the mace. I begin my downward swing. Whipsnap’s shaft bends from the motion and when it springs forward will add its own energy to the blow.

I vaguely register a screaming voice. “No!”

An arm appears between Whipsnap’s mace and the glob of blood. The weapon strikes hard and a loud crack sounds out as the bones within the arm snap. A scream of pain follows and I reel away from it.

Ninnis stands before me, his left forearm bent at a sick angle. The body of Nephil remains on the floor, unharmed. The black swirling cloud above roils with frantic energy. It needs a host. It needs me. But that’s not going to happen. Not again.

I step toward Ninnis, ready to fight him with the last strength that I have.

Strike unfurls in his right hand, glinting in the fire light.

But when he shouts his battle cry and swings the sword, he is not aiming at me.

A second hunter has attacked! Is this a friend? One of the hunters that helped Tobias escape with Em and Luca?

The man meets a quick end at the tip of Strike. The sword pierces the attacker’s heart and emerges from his back. Before I can fully grasp the turn of events, Ninnis yanks the sword from the first hunter’s chest, ducks a thrown spear and swings Strike in a wide arc. Two more hunters, a man and a woman, lose their legs. The scene is horrid. Unlike anything I’ve seen before. People killing people without a second thought. Without hesitation.

And for what?

I no longer believe the attackers are on my side. Their lack of strategy and cunning is closer to frenzy than sacrifice. They’re not thinking. They’re—

A wet slurp interrupts my thoughts. Another hunter has fallen.

Shouting voices thunder around me as the army breaks into chaos. The warriors sound angry. The hunters, desperate. The others are drowned out by the sounds of battle. I look around. Hunters charge toward the circle, but they’re hacking at each other as they run. It’s every man for himself. And not one of them is looking at me.

Then I remember the envy in the other hunters’ eyes on the day I consumed the flesh of Nephil. Each one of them craved it for themselves. And now, seeing it again coupled with the presence of Nephil himself, the hunters are slaughtering each other for the chance to be the new vessel.

Through the crowd of running, falling, and dying hunters I see Luca gripped in the arms of Kainda. His limbs hang limp. Dead or unconscious, there is no way to know. But she has not left the boy to claim the body of Nephil, which I believe she could do. If anyone could defeat Ninnis, it would be her. Is it her sense of duty that has rooted her in place? Or something else? After all, Preeg and Pyke have not left their posts either, but they stare as the scene like hungry lions. It’s likely that the only thing keeping them in place is the knowledge that they wouldn’t make it past Kainda and even if they did, they could never stand against Ninnis, who is now surrounded by the bodies of his fellow hunters.

Preeg suddenly grasps her throat and falls. The sudden motion turns Pyke around, but he’s too slow. Em is there! She throws a knife that catches him in the chest. He falls to the ground.

Kainda spins around, facing Em, who has two blades at the ready.

The situation is precarious. Em could throw the knives accurately, but Kainda is fast and might position Luca’s body in the way. Kainda could also use Luca as bait, drawing Em in close enough to strike her down with the giant hammer.

But neither move.

A man falls away from Ninnis, his throat slit. He tumbles back toward me. I roll to the side, avoiding his falling body. But I freeze again, turning my attention back to Luca and Em.

Neither woman has struck. In fact, they appear to be talking. Then I see surprise register on Em’s face. I know my expression must look similar, because Kainda then hands the boy over to Em, who slings him over her shoulder. The pair duck into the shadows and flee together.

Luca is saved.

Em has escaped.

And Kainda…she has been redeemed.

A clang of metal on metal draws my attention back to the fight. A body falls. Ninnis stands in the middle of a ring of death. The hunters still alive are too busy fighting each other to stop what happens next. When I try to run at him and stumble back down to my knees, I know that I am too weak.

Ninnis grins at me. With a twitch of his hand, Strike rolls up. He attaches the weapon to his belt and then crouches. When he stands again, he clutches the body of Nephil in his hand. Without a word or second thought, he puts the gelatinous purple mass into his mouth and swallows.

A high pitched squeal explodes from Ninnis’s mouth as a violent shaking rises up from his feet and quickly claims the rest of his body. He falls, clutched by the seizure, and disappears within the circle of bodies.

I push myself to my feet, bracing myself with Whipsnap. I see Ninnis shaking, his mouth covered in white foam.
I should kill him
, I think. And end this. But I can’t do it. I swore to never take a human life, even one as corrupt as Ninnis. But even if I had tried, it would be too late. The swirling black spirit of Nephil descends like a tornado. It touches down on Ninnis and enters him. The shaking stops, but he does not move.

Has the merger killed him?

No
, I think, as I see his chest rising and falling from each breath. He is simply unconscious.

Kill him!
Ull is free and shouting to be heard. But he has not yet realized what I have. Nephil’s body has been consumed. The spirit has entered Ninnis. He is the Lord of the Nephilim, at least for now, and I am the enemy.

The fighting around me has stopped. The surviving hunters stare at me. As do the thousands of Nephilim watching the scene play out with rapt attention.

“Take him,” Enki says, pointing at me.

They still need me
, I realize. Ninnis will not be able to contain the spirit of Nephil forever. I am uniquely suited to the task—if only they could break me again.
They cannot break us!
Ull shouts at me.

When a buzzing sound fills my mind, I realize there is another option that I hadn’t yet considered. If they can’t break me, they can erase my mind, or at least control it. I feel the probing minds of a hundred gatherers trying to penetrate my thoughts.

I stagger back as more hunters emerge from the wall of Nephilim giants. Fifty. One hundred.

Even at full strength, I could not hold out long against this many hunters.

A sharp bark echoes in the tunnel.

And then chaos returns with a flash of green and red. Twelve cresties pour out of a nearby side tunnel and tear into the distracted hunters. But the attack also spurs the army into action. Some of the hunters counterattack. The rest, come for me.

Ninnis groans behind me, coming to.

I hobble around him, running away from the hunters, but there is nowhere to go. The army is behind me. The gates to Tartarus—a land of eternal suffering—stand open before me. I am trapped.

I turn to face my attackers.

Three hunters lead the charge, weapons raised. They will reach me within seconds.

I glance to the left. There is no sign of Luca, Em or Kainda. They’ve made it out.

The cresties continue fighting, but the tide is turning against them. They are severely outnumbered and when the Nephilim join the fight, the dinosaurs are outsized. I see a number of them quickly fall, heads crushed, bodies impaled. A slaughter. Realizing the battle is lost, Grumpy lets out a bark, and the five remaining pack members retreat, heading in the same direction as Em, Luca and Kainda, perhaps following the familiar scent.

I’ve been abandoned, but I am glad for it. If the cresties follow Em, they will all be safer.

I, on the other hand, am doomed.

The three hunters shout as they lunge.

I thrust my arms out, sending a gust of wind against them and fling them into some of the other charging hunters. The pack slows, keeping a safe distance. They no doubt thought my extraordinary abilities would fade when the body of Nephil left me.

With the gates of Tartarus just thirty feet behind me, the semicircle of hunters tightens. There is nowhere to run. And if they knew how weak I felt, they would have attacked already.

Enki, Enlil, Thor and Osiris join the ring.

“You are stronger than we ever imagined, Ull,” Enki says.

“I am not Ull!” I shout back.

Enki chuckles. “This is the role you were born for. You are the vessel of Nephil, and you will accept him.”

The buzzing in my head grows intense. I can feel my will being shattered from within. I grit my teeth and fight against it, but I am not alone.

You must run
, Xin says. He sounds weak. Beaten. And I realize that the only reason the gatherers have yet to claim my mind is because he is shielding me, and feeling the majority of their attack.

A crazed scream rips through the chamber.

Heads turn and the wall of hunters parts. Ninnis steps forward. His body looks stronger. Younger. His arm is healed.

Nephil has found a host in Ninnis, if only temporarily.

Run
! Xin insists.

Where?
I think.

Ninnis walks toward me, confident and radiating power. He says nothing, but his unblinking eyes never waver from mine.

Pain throbs in my head.

I need an escape route. I need a distraction.

I need Behemoth.

Focusing beyond Ninnis, beyond the wall of hunters and the army of Nephilim, I feel the air surrounding the wall of fire. I return my thoughts to the molecules of oxygen, the same way I did when I made the wall flare. But this time, instead of pulling the oxygen into the flame, I draw it away.

When the light in the chamber drops by seventy percent, I know I’ve succeeded. As does everyone else. There is a shift of attention in the chamber as nearly everyone cranes their heads toward the extinguished wall.

Behemoth bellows with a hungry rage. The meal set out before him is unlike anything he’s seen before. His thundering footsteps shake the chamber and something I never thought I’d see takes place. The Nephilim—this horde of half demon monsters conspiring to exterminate and enslave the human race—panics.

The buzzing in my head fades. The gatherers, and Xin, are gone.