Aaron Rosenberg - Hunt and run

But something still felt wrong.

Ronon was trying to puzzle it out when he heard Setien give a triumphant cry. “There!” she shouted, and for a second Ronon expected to see Wraith up ahead. But instead she was pointing up slightly, toward another tree a short distance in front of her — and a thick cluster of pears that hung within easy reach. “They’re mine!” And she charged forward to claim them.

Which is when Ronon realized what had been bothering him. All of the fruit they’d seen had been out of reach. But there were plenty of branches within reach. They’d just all been stripped bare. And that meant either very industrious critters who didn’t like heights — or people. People harvesting the fruit.

And why would those people leave a single clump of pears where anyone could get them? They wouldn’t —

— unless it was a trap.

“Setien, no!” Ronon sprinted toward her, but she was ahead of him and moving just as fast to reach her prize. He was still several feet from her when she reached up, plucked one of the ripe, golden fruits —

— and vanished upward in a whoosh of air and leaves and bark.

“Setien!” Ronon skidded to a stop where she’d been standing and craned his neck, peering up into the thick foliage. There! He caught a patch of darker black against the shadows — that had to be her hair. “Setien, are you all right?”

“Unhh,” came a weak groan from up above. A few seconds later it was followed by a string of curses, each one louder and more depraved, and Ronon relaxed slightly. If she was well enough to curse, she couldn’t be too badly injured.

“What happened?” Adarr demanded, finally catching up. The lanky mechanic might have legs almost as long as Ronon’s but he flailed too much for them to build up much speed, plus his lean frame lacked heavy muscle.

“Setien triggered a snare,” Ronon explained quickly, studying the offending branch itself. He could see now where a notch had been cut into the wood to hold the rope or vine or whatever had been used. “The pears were bait, and she fell for it.”

“Who traps fruit?” Setien demanded from somewhere overhead. “That’s insane!”

“They caught you, didn’t they?” Ronon retorted, frustration and concern lending an edge to his voice.

“Is it Wraith?” Adarr asked, pulling his pistol and swinging around wildly. Ronon had to stop him and hold him in place before the other man shot one or both of them by accident.

“It’s not Wraith,” he assured the other man quietly. “They don’t set traps like this.”

“Oh. Right.” Adarr calmed down slightly. Unfortunately, that also meant he started talking again. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, we’ve never seen them set traps like that before, why start now? And why would they think anyone would just happen along on a random planet and grab that particular bunch of pears, anyway? Kinda weird.” He scratched at his chin. “So who did set it, then?”

“Hunters,” Ronon growled, one hand on his pistol as he studied the shadows all around them. “Probably meant it for a big cat or a small bear or something.” He risked a quick glance up at where he knew Setien had to be. “Looks like they got one.”

“I heard that!” Setien shouted down at him. “Just wait until I get out of this thing, I’ll — ”

“Can you?” Ronon cut her off.

“Can I what?”

“Can you get out?”

“Don’t you think I would have by now?” she demanded. Which was a fair point — she was hardly one to sit around waiting for someone else to rescue her. “No! It’s got me wound all around like a holiday present! I can’t reach my gun, my knife, or anything!”

“Probably for the best, really,” Adarr pointed out softly to Ronon. “If she could she’d have shot the vine or rope or whatever it is holding her up there. Then she’d have plummeted straight down.” He squinted up. “I’m guessing she’s at least twenty meters up, maybe more. That’s a hell of a drop, even for her.”

Ronon stared at him, a chill racing down his spine. It took him a second to find his voice. “Go get Nekai. Get all the others. Hurry.”

“What? But — ” The other man saw the look on his face and nodded, shutting his mouth quickly. “I’m on it.” Then he was gone in a flurry of limbs.

“What’re you doing?” Setien asked. “Why’d you send Adarr away? Just climb up here and cut me down and we can get moving again!”

“I’m working on it,” Ronon assured her, holstering his gun and grabbing the branch with both hands. He jumped and hauled himself up, then stood carefully, one hand against the trunk for balance, and studied his surroundings. No sign of the snare’s other end at this level, though that didn’t mean it wasn’t here — whoever had set this trap knew their woodcraft, and there was plenty of bark and leaves and branches to use for cover. “But we’re on a time limit.”

She understood at once. “How high am I?” There was no fear in her voice, but the outrage was gone as well. Now she was all business.

“At least twenty meters.”

“Oh.” He thought he heard her sigh, though he couldn’t be sure from this distance — it might have been a breeze rustling through some leaves. “I can’t even reach my gun. Or raise my fist.”

“I know.” He felt around the trunk carefully but didn’t find anything. So he wrapped his arms around it instead and shimmied up to the next branch to repeat the process.

Each climb took him closer to Setien, and even if he couldn’t locate the rest of the snare, if he could get close enough, he could try to swing her over to him, then cut her loose.

The problem was, she was well beyond the overlap range of the tracking device. Which meant she’d become fully exposed the second she’d been trapped. And every minute Ronon couldn’t reach her meant another minute the Wraith might notice her signal and lock onto it.

They’d gone from being the hunters to being the hunted again. Only this time Setien was bound and helpless. Ronon tried not to think about what would happen if he couldn’t get her free in time.

It felt like hours had passed before Adarr returned, though Ronon knew it had to be less than that. If for no other reason than that he hadn’t managed to make much progress in climbing. Adarr had clearly filled the others in on the situation, and Banje immediately called up to them as they all gathered around the base of the tree.

“Ronon, come down,” he said. “Turen’s on her way up.”

Ronon considered arguing for a minute, then nodded. He had height and reach and muscle over Turen, but the higher he climbed the thinner the branches became. He’d already had to climb past several because they wouldn’t support his weight. Once he got much higher the trunk might not be willing to hold him either. Turen was small and light and fast — she’d be able to get a lot farther than he could.

He passed her on the way, and she gave him a quick smile. “I’ll get her,” she assured him, but Ronon knew she was just trying to cheer him up. They had no idea how high Setien really was, or how difficult it might be to disarm the snare. They had to face the possibility that she was stuck up there until the original hunters returned to claim their prize — or until the Wraith beat them to it.

Back on the ground, Banje was conferring with Nekai. Ronon joined them. “This is my fault,” he told them at once. “I should have seen the snare. I should have stopped her.”

“You had no reason to look for traps here,” Nekai argued. “None of us did. We haven’t seen any signs of settlement anywhere — as far as we knew, this whole world was uninhabited.”

“It might still be,” Banje pointed out. “They may be using the ring to come through and hunt here, then return to their own world. That would explain why we haven’t seen any settlements anywhere.”