Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

The protection was gone. He’d gotten lucky. One of the men was the shielder and he was distracted.

    Gator sent out another pulsing wave, directed at the alligators in the area. The sound traveled through water and over land herding several of the reptiles right at two of his enemies. Once he was certain he had the reptiles on the move, he sent wave after wave of low-frequency sound to keep the hunters sick and disoriented. The men moved inland, their attention divided between the powerful jaws of the alligators and the continual assault on their nervous systems.

    The first man wore desert camouflage clothing and stuck out easily in all the greenery.
    That told Gator they hadn’t been expecting trouble; that it had been a recon mission and nothing more until he and Flame had been spotted. The man moved in standard two-man pattern, covering and signaling his partner forward. The second man was in regular camouflage, greens and browns, and much more difficult to spot. Gator was certain he was the shielder. It was difficult to see him through the down-pour and several times Gator had to fight back the impulse to wipe at his eyes and clear his vision.

    A small alligator shot past, scooting out of the way of his much larger brethren. Without Gator driving them, the reptiles seemed as disoriented as the hunters, stopping and grunting, looking around for a slide back into the water. A long tail covered in thick scales swept around, nearly knocking into the man in green and brown. He jumped forward and let out a startled yell as he fell through the thin crust of earth separating him from the high water table. The ground around him sank, pouring into the hole and water bubbled up as he disappeared completely.

    ‘Ed!” The first man in the desert camouflage raced forward. Before he could reach the hole, the large alligator suddenly rushed in front of him, intent on getting back into the water. He flipped into the hole headfirst. At once muffled gunfire erupted and the water turned red. The second man peered down the hole, trying to see to help his buddy, afraid of firing and hitting him.

    Gator came up out of the mud, only a scant couple of feet from him, knife in his fist. The man spun around, swinging his rifle hard in Gator’s direction to drive him back so he could bring the weapon up to get off a shot. Gator caught the rifle before it could hit him, his palm slapping the barrel hard. He jerked and the hunter went sailing over his head.
    Gator followed him, kicking the rifle out of his hands as the man somersaulted back onto his feet and faced him in a fighter’s crouch.

    The man looked familiar. Gator sucked in his breath. “I know you. You took the psych test the same time I took it. Rick Fielding, right? Why the hell would you come after me?”

    “Because you’re a dumb shit and you’re fucking every thing up,” Rick snarled.

    “Good reason, Ricks’,” Gator said, stepping to his left, careful to place his weight where he knew the surface was spongy but stable. Moving forced Fielding to step also. “I hope you think it’s all worth it because your sorry ass belongs to me.”

    “I don’t think so. You and your little slut are the only ones here. You’re going to be very dead and she’s going to be entertaining tonight.”

    Gator laughed, the sound soft and taunting. “That woman would entertain you, Ricky boy, but not the way you think.” He feinted with the knife, crowding close, forcing Fielding back another step. “You’d be wearing a happy smile right around your throat, you mess with her.” He moved left, pressuring the soldier with another slight maneuver of the knife.

    Rick’s gaze dropped, following the action of the knife, and he took another step to the side. The thin ground gave way under his weight and one leg dropped into a hole. Rick sank to his crotch. Frantically he dug at the collapsing mud, clutching at the ground, trying to keep from slipping beneath the surface. Fear superseded the anger in his eyes as more of the ground gave way and mud began to pour into the hole with him. His other leg slipped in.

    It was the sudden widening of Rick’s eyes, hope flared for a brief instance that had Gator spinning around, hands up to defend himself. It was the only thing that saved his life. Ed stood behind him, soaked, covered in mud, a knife in his fist as he shoved it toward Gator’s kidneys. Gator deflected the blade, stumbled in an effort to keep away from the thin layer