Alien Hunter: Underworld Read Online Free PDF Page A

emptiness not unlike that of the lens of the wire back in the office, and before he knew it, he would have risen into the air. He would have been dragged into what would have seemed something like a big wasp nest, stinking and claustrophobic. In it, he would have been strapped to a table. Then they would have gone to work on him.
    Flynn was pretty sure of all this. He had seen most of the other bodies that were recovered, the wounds, the bruises left by the struggle against the straps.
    He moved a little deeper into the woods, a little closer to his target ravine. Along this route, the land got more and more rocky and steeper. He moved silently, relying on his memory of the elevations from the map, and his own terrain sense.
    Then, very suddenly, the birds were gone. He stopped. Nothing rustled along the ground; no wildlife scuttled or growled. Far off, a dog was barking frantically, and from the sound of it, had been for a while. He stepped back a few feet, until he once again heard birdsong.
    â€œFlynn—”
    At last, she’d made her move. He pretended surprise. “What in hell’s name are you doing here?”
    â€œSaving your life.” She nodded toward the ravine. “They’re down there.”
    When he moved toward it, she came with him.
    â€œI won’t let you do this, Flynn.”
    â€œDiana, you need to back off. You don’t belong in the field, and we both know it and we both know why.”
    â€œDon’t hit me, Flynn, not with that.”
    She’d lost her original team because she’d panicked and made command errors. She and Flynn were the only two who had survived a night of merciless carnage.
    He put his hands on her shoulders. “Sorry, it was uncalled for.”
    â€œI remember every guy, all the time.”
    â€œI was there, too. I could have done things differently.”
    â€œOn your first operation? Green as you were? No.”
    He turned back toward the ravine. She threw her arms around him.
    Gently, he peeled her off and began moving downward, descending quickly into steeper terrain.
    The rocks were painted with orange and tan lichens and gray moss, but they were jagged and sharp. Soon, he was working his way down a cliff. A bad spot to have to draw a gun.
    He reached a granite outcropping. Peering over the small ledge that it formed, he saw the pool he’d spotted on the state map.
    Somewhere below this ledge and above the pool, there was going to be a cave or a crevasse where the things were hiding, all pressed up against its walls like giant bats.
    His ability to use his weapons would be compromised, while their dexterity would be at its most useful.
    His left hand went to his neck, lingering on the scar that was there, long and red and still tender after three months. It had been done by one of their claws. Three inches, right down to the vertebrae—so fast, he hadn’t been able to react. Just in time, he got in a shot that had separated the head from the body.
    He took a breath and continued down, pausing every few seconds to inhale their odor, testing its strength.
    Then he felt the earth beneath his body give way. He steadied himself, then kept sliding carefully down toward the source of the odor.
    The next instant, his footing was gone and he was more than sliding, he was out of control. He let it happen, scrabbling now, seeming to struggle.
    Rocks and dirt cascaded down into the pool. Just as the slide was becoming a fall, he managed to grab a root outcropping. This caused him to swing out. The root shifted; then he felt it giving way under his weight. Swinging back, he grabbed another outcropping with his free hand. He found footing. Tested it.
    The odor of the aliens was now chokingly strong, its sourness greasy, its sweetness so thick, it had become a sickening taste.
    Carefully slipping out of one foothold, he found another lower down. Again, he descended.
    He was close now, just a few feet.
    Without warning, something fell