The Hunter's Trap

“Faster!” Katrina’s voice was a raw bark, cutting through the humid air as she carved a path through the grasping foliage. Every muscle in her body was a tightly coiled spring, every breath a calculated expense of energy.

“And where do you suppose we’re going?” Bruno wheezed in response from the rear, his large frame struggling against the sucking mud. “To volunteer as the next course on the swamp’s dinner menu?”

No one answered him. Hector moved with grim determination, one arm supporting the still-trembling Maris while the other snapped the branches that blocked their path. Maris’s eyes were vacant, fixed on a reality only she could see; her lips moved in a silent, constant rhythm, repeating a mantra of self-loathing. “I’m a monster… I’m a monster…” The horror of her own unleashed power had turned her mind into a prison.

They finally broke free into a clearing where the ground was more solid and the canopy of colossal trees formed a vaulted ceiling, like that of a forgotten cathedral. Hector held up a hand, signaling a halt. “We need to catch our breath for a moment. Maris isn’t well.”

Katrina spun on him, her face a mask of mud and fury, her eyes blazing. “Catch our breath? With those things on our trail? Have you lost your mind?”

“You will not speak to her that way,” Hector said, his voice low and laced with a steel warning. He gently guided Maris to the base of a tree, helping her sit. “Can’t you see? She’s terrified.”

“Terrified?” Katrina let out a short, incredulous laugh. “That ‘terror’ just saved our lives, Hector. And when those things get through that root wall—and they will—we’re going to need her power again. She is a weapon, and we need to learn how to aim her!”

“She is not a weapon!” Hector shot back, his voice rising, causing Maris to flinch. “She’s a scared young woman with a power she can’t control. You will not treat her like an object!”

“Then what’s your brilliant plan, Hector? Shall we sit and hold her hand? Tell her bedtime stories?” Katrina closed the distance between them, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “That fatherly act of yours is going to get us all killed. To survive, we have to be ruthless. We have to use every advantage we have. And she,” Katrina finished, jabbing a finger toward Maris, “is the greatest advantage we currently possess.”

“Wonderful,” Bruno interjected, slumping onto a rock with a weary groan. “One of you is a living earthquake, one is a deadly ninja, and the other is Robin Hood. And what am I? The fat, slow-moving target. While you two are debating our next move, has it occurred to you that those metal monstrosities might be planning to flank us?”

Hector held Katrina’s gaze. What he saw there wasn’t pure malice, but the bone-deep pragmatism forged by two years of solitary survival. “I don’t agree with you,” he said, his voice calmer now. “But Bruno is right. We need to stop arguing and make a plan.”

Katrina hesitated for a moment, the fire in her eyes banking slightly, then gave a sharp nod. “Fine. What’s the plan? We can’t run forever. Those things don’t get tired.”

“We need to lead them somewhere,” Hector said, his mind already working. “A place where their numbers mean nothing, where we can separate them.” He closed his eyes, scanning the mental map he had built of this world. “To the north, there’s Broken Tooth Pass. It’s narrow, treacherous, and filled with opportunities for an ambush.”

“So we’re setting a trap?” Katrina asked, a flicker of interest in her eyes. The idea clearly appealed to her. “That’s more my style.”

“Not exactly,” Hector corrected. “We’ll lead them there, but not to fight them. To escape them. We get to the other side of the pass, and we have Maris use her power to collapse the path behind us. That will buy us the time we need to find Pazzo and Nicolas.”

At the mention of her name, Maris looked up. “I… I can’t,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “Not again… I can’t use that power again. What if I hurt one of you?”

Hector knelt beside her. “You won’t,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Because this time, you won’t be acting out of fear. You’ll be in control. Just a few rocks, just enough to block the path. I’ll help you.”

Katrina rolled her eyes but said nothing. The plan was risky, but it was better than no plan at all. “Alright,” she conceded. “We head for the pass. But we watch our trail. That pack of hyenas led by Lucas is still out there somewhere.”

As they set off again, the tension between them had eased, replaced by the sharp focus of a shared goal. Hector, an expert tracker, guided them, taking pains to leave as faint a trail as possible. After a few hours, however, he stopped abruptly and knelt, examining a set of faint impressions in the soil.

“Is there a problem?” Katrina asked, her hand instantly going to her dagger.

Hector’s brow furrowed. “These tracks… they belong to Lucas’s men. But something’s wrong. They’re too… obvious.”

“What do you mean?”

“A good hunter stalks his prey silently,” Hector explained, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “These tracks look like they want to be found. A deliberately snapped twig, a hastily made footprint in the mud… They’re not following us. They’re herding us.”

Katrina and Bruno exchanged a worried glance. “To the pass,” Katrina whispered, the realization dawning on her. “They’re pushing us there.”

“But why?” Bruno asked. “To ambush us themselves?”

Hector stood up, a look of bitter understanding on his face. “No,” he said. “Something worse. Not to ambush us. To trap us.”

He had barely finished the sentence when the familiar, heavy tread began to vibrate through the ground from the direction of the swamp. The Black Knights had caught up.

“Damn it!” Katrina cursed. “Run! We have no choice but to head for the pass!”

Their options had vanished. Running headlong into Lucas’s trap was now a better alternative than facing the unstoppable death behind them. They sprinted, bursting through the trees and into the mouth of Broken Tooth Pass, a narrow, winding corridor of sheer rock.

They were halfway through when Lucas appeared on a high ledge above them, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face.

“Congratulations, Zinox,” he called down. “You’ve arrived right on schedule.”

“This is pointless, Lucas!” Hector shouted up at him. “You’ve cornered us, but your men are nothing against those creatures!”

Lucas laughed, a dry and unpleasant sound that echoed off the canyon walls. “Who said my men were going to fight them?” he said, gesturing behind him. “My job wasn’t to hunt you. It was to bait you.”

Hector and the others followed his gesture, looking toward the far end of the pass. Standing there, completely blocking the exit, were Lucas’s mercenaries. They weren't arrayed for battle; they had formed an impenetrable barricade.

At that same moment, the heavy footfalls from behind them stopped at the entrance of the pass. The two Black Knights stood there in all their terrible glory, their crimson eyes locked onto their prey in the narrow gorge.

Lucas’s plan was as brilliant as it was cruel. He wasn’t going to fight them. He had simply locked them in a cage with a far more powerful predator.

“Happy hunting,” Lucas sneered from his perch. “I do hope you taste good.”

A wall of mercenaries in front of them, and two of Gein’s death machines behind them. There was nowhere to run. They were trapped.