Something was hunting them.
It was Kaya who noticed first. Three days after they cut Fyod loose, movement caught her eye at the crest of the hill they were heading toward. It was gone before she could look again. An hour later, Tyver noticed an odd stirring beneath the river trees behind them. He couldn’t point it out to the others, not at first. After a minute, they saw something slip through the bushes and disappear beneath the water.
They all began to notice, after that. Odd noises just past the curves of the land. Ripples on the river. Once or twice, the grass swayed in ways that might have been the wind or might have been something out of sight.
Kaya was reminded forcibly of old Gammy whenever the others began to speculate, drawing on the Recall in hopes of guessing what was tailing them. Gammy was an old woman of the colony who would reminisce endlessly about better times, worse times… any times she felt like, really. All four of her friends, whether knowingly or not, were perfectly capturing Gammy’s long-stared squint as they peered into the past and fished for relevance. Unlike Gammy, though, they were coming up short. Apparently none of them could remember this particular stretch of plains, though that didn’t stop them from trying even after they’d camped for the night.
That’s when they came.
Something had glinted beyond the firelight of their camp, beyond even where the enhanced vision of a martyr could reach. Whatever it was, it was circling the camp in perfect silence. One, two, five. Tyver swore he saw at least ten before, muttering gutter curses, he had hefted a stone and thrown it into the dark before anyone could say a word.
There was a vicious, meaty thump followed by a keening cry. All sign of the things vanished, save for the wail of whatever Tyver had hit. Almost without pause for breath, the noise lingered on until Kaya finally stood. “Enough of this,” she spat as she drew her knife.
“Don’t,” Tyver said, his expression distant. “Let it scream.”
“How can you say that? It’s suffering!” Kaya ground out. “Do you want to listen to that all night?”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “T’thing wouldn’t be suffering if t’weren’t hunting us. Could be a trap, fair.”
“It’s just an animal,” Kaya said.
“Probably a pack of dogs,” Gael said. “I recall a few deaths involving dogs. They’re smart enough.”
“Dogs?” Kaya asked. “The useless, fluffy things the Thirteen use for pets?”
“You mean curs. Those haven’t been dogs for a long time,” Wynn said. “Neither have what Gael’s talking about. Not really.” They stood up. “But you’re right. We should help it along.” Wynn eyed Gael and Tyver as he picked a branch from the fire. “There’s more than dogs out there hunting us.”
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“If it’s t’be done, I’ll do it,” Tyver said. He looked strange, almost frightened. “An.. And I need t’know.”
“What do you need to know?” Gael asked, but the little thief only shook his head.
“You three go,” Naomi said. “Gael and I will keep an eye on things here. Don’t take long.”
It had crawled some way from the campsite by the time they found it. The blood made it easy to follow, but even so the thing was nearly invisible in the dim light of Wynn’s branch. The wails had died to a guttural, bubbling whine by that point, and Kaya’s pity with it as she got a good look at the “dog.” It was massive, easily outweighing her by half. The body was slender, almost graceful, and covered in a darkly mottled pelt. The head, though, didn’t seem to match. A triangular block of bone and black-skinned, hairless muscle, jaws sporting teeth that seemed too large, and… and eyeless.
Kaya blinked, staring as the wind stirred up the little flame of Wynn’s torch. The mottling wasn’t a matter of coloring but instead a savage layering of scars. The ears were chewed nubs, and even the thing’s wide, flaring nostrils were speckled with thin lines of pale tissue. The eyes, though, had simply never existed. Battle-scarred skin stretched over empty sockets that nevertheless seemed to stare back at her.
Kaya shivered. It was the teeth they had seen from camp, glinting in the firelight. Even this close, one could almost see the animal as nothing but a gaping, gasping set of hooked and bloodstained jaws.
It started to flail and snap at them as they approached, shifting enough that they could all see the shattered mess the stone had left of the animal’s side. Kaya began to step aside for Tyver but there was a whistling snap of air as another stone took the creature between the eyes. She whirled to see Tyver looking at the beast as though he’d seen a ghost. “Raug,” he said, nearly shaking. “It’s a raug.”
“I thought they were a myth,” Wynn said, looking horrified.
“Myths,” he ground out with slow, dreadful emphasis “don’t eat your grandparents.”
Tyver and Wynn were friends. The journey together had forced them to work together, to learn from one another, until the prejudices from their past lives had been buried beneath all they’d shared. Buried, but not forgotten. The expression on Tyver’s face, the venom in his tone, his very posture contained such hate, disgust, and raw terror that Kaya thought she might be burned if he glanced her way. Wynn’s, for their part, held only shame.
“We have t’get back. Now.” Tyver said.
“Why? What’s this about? What’s a raug?” Kaya asked.
“Now.” Tyver hissed again, almost running back toward the fire. Almost. He wouldn’t step past the little circle of light cast by Wynn’s feeble torch. Wynn shook into motion and suddenly it was all Kaya could do to keep up.
“Gael!” Tyver screamed. “Naomi!”
There was no answer, and Tyver began muttering his gutter curses again. In a few moments, they stumbled back into camp. Tyver called frantically, scrambling past the fire to be sure of what he already knew.
Naomi and Gael were gone.