He fired the round.
“One,” he whispered. He watched through the scope as the ghost shape swayed then dropped, crashing onto the supporting branch beneath which shook from the tremendous blow. The form slid from the tree, falling in a dead drop to the ground.
A mix of horror and relief washed over him. These were men and not ghosts, murderers who slaughtered his family and killed this group of hunters. Unwilling to be distracted, he pushed down the rising anger, telling himself he would deal with it later.
Thaddeus knew what to do next. Keep moving; be unexpected, invisible, sneaky. He drew back from the ledge, grabbed the binoculars and rifle, then began a crouching jog along the ridge, away from the target. An explosion crashed along the side of the vacated ledge behind him, followed by a second. He racked a fresh round into the weapon’s chamber as he ran, pocketing the spent cartridge for reuse later. He counted 20 paces, dropped to his stomach, and edged towards the ridge using a wind hardened stump for cover. He once again looked out over the valley. Lightning blasts collide at random spots along the ridge, coming closer with each explosion. That had to be suppressing fire, he thought. It meant the other was approaching. From what direction?
When fired, the light pulse left a faint but visible line. The weapon’s projectile was like a tracer round, but with no perceptible arc to the bullet’s flight. Fighting the urge to run, Thaddeus waited for the next blast then followed it back to its source. He found the familiar ghost shape up in the tree. He sighted in on the form but it dropped out of view. It must be on the move. A second ghost began firing into the ridge from another location. They were alternating covering fire. They were definitely coming.
Think, he told himself. How does this thing like to hunt? His first thought was from high ground. They were also up in the trees that terrible morning sixteen years ago, and again here in the valley. If that was so, why didn't they use the ridge? It had better visibility and easier movement. Do their strange weapons not have the range? Or do they prefer to be in-close to their prey? Now that Thaddeus held the higher ground, they were maneuvering to take it back.
They like to hunt using camouflage. Over the years, Thaddeus learned a wide variety of ways to conceal himself. The greatest concerns for stealth are visibility, sound and odor. In his first encounter, it was the sounds that alerted him to their presence in the trees. That left visibility. Though he didn’t understand how it worked, he recognized the men wore see-through camouflage suits. Thaddeus now knew they were men and not ghosts because he put a bullet through one and it dropped to the ground dead. His well-placed shot showed their concealment outfit was vulnerable if you knew what to look for. Would the enemy adjust and change their method of camouflage?
Their tactics relied on the element of surprise followed by the overwhelming power of their weapons. They took the hunting party by ambush, just like with his family. While they showed some basic military tactics, the enemy appeared to think like hunters. They were not watching their rear position and Thaddeus caught them flat-footed. He guessed it was an over-confidence in their concealment that caused them to let down their guard, and the tables were turned on them. He doubted a second chance would come.
Where was the mobile one while the other lay down suppressing fire? They must know he zeroed in on their weapon’s signature. They countered by alternating firing positions as they moved towards him. How long between firing sessions? Ten-seconds? Fifteen?
Ignoring the ghost on the move, he followed the next shot back to its tree then sighted in on the shape. He fired a round.
"Two."
This one also hit home. The ghost shape slumped onto the branch but continued to move its arms. Thaddeus reloaded without losing visual contact, again pocketing the spent shell. A wailing sound drifted across the valley from the creature’s direction. He chanced a second shot and put this one at what he hoped was dead center of the body. He pulled the trigger.
"Three," he whispered.
The shape stopped moving, and the sounds ended. A dark-colored fluid ran down the bark beneath the form. It was bleeding out.
Light flashed, and rock exploded just below the hilltop. The last aggressor found his location. That was quick.
Thaddeus slid back from the ledge, grabbed the binoculars and rifle, and ran. The enemy knew of his movement along the ridge--time to switch it up. He headed down slope, away from the hillside edge, reloading on the run. He would double back around behind the original overlook and try to catch the third murderer from behind.
After thirty paces, he cut right. As he made the turn, something large pounded along the ridge top. He dropped to his knees and tucked behind a tree stand. The ground vibrated as each foot landed. The enemy was enormous. Branches slapped against what sounded like metal or hard skin.
This thing was fearless, Thaddeus thought. It no longer concealed its presence. How did it get up the hill so fast? It was time to decide—pursue the enemy or give it up. His hunting instincts told him to continue while he had the upper hand. But did he still have it? The enemy might consider this a hunt, but to Thaddeus it was a battle. Gone was the element of surprise, his positional advantage nullified. With the in-close fighting sure to come, that powerful cannon would be more effective than his rifle. Not to mention the size and speed of the opponent. While he counted only three assailants, he suspected there may be more.
"Enough is enough, he whispered. He would put as much distance between them as possible. He did not know their tracking abilities but had to assume they were good. He hoped the boy in the valley got away.
Maintaining a running-crouch, Thaddeus worked his way back down the mountain, careful to make no noise and leave no sign of his passage. Within a minute, however, the beast crashed through the trees from behind. How had it found his trail so quickly? He started with a hundred yards of thick forest between them and the enemy running in the opposite direction. Now it bore down on him. Heart pounding, he ran for his life.
The beast crashed into forest trees, emitting loud squawks with each collision. Flashes of light and explosions landed around him as he dodged and weaved between the trunks. The creature was not trying to hit him but to slow him down. It wanted to finish him off by hand.
Thaddeus had to lift his knees high to clear deadfall on the forest floor to keep from pitching forward. His heels dug into the leaves and dirt to dodge oncoming trees as his pursuer closed in from behind, its heavy feet sending ground vibrations, its breath laboring. He was approaching the muddy creek bed with the near vertical embankment that caused him so much trouble earlier.
Thaddeus sensed the creature behind, its feet stomping the ground, its pace matching his. He chanced a brief glance over his shoulder and saw the shadow of the beast, right there, almost on top of him, mostly invisible arms reaching for him. It was on him; he was done.