Dave Freedman - Natural Selection

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with what Darryl wants to do… I’m inclined to agree.”

Craig nodded. “First thing tomorrow, then.”

Jason nodded in kind. “First thing tomorrow.”

“ THERE THEY are.” Lisa pointed as Monique and Darryl emerged from the forest in their all-khaki outfits.

Darryl looked tense. “It’s still out there. Let’s go. Let’s go right no—” He paused when Craig sluffed from the cabin, bleary-eyed and still in his pj’s. “Get dressed Craig.”

Summers seemed to wake up. “What? Hold on. I wanna reposition the equip—”

“You’re not repositioning anything now. That thing’s out there and we’re going to look for it . ”

Craig turned angrily. “Christ, Jason, that’s not what we agreed to last—”

“Craig, you got up late, and we don’t have time now.” Jason saw that thin streams of white were already flowing into the treetops. “Reposition it later if you like, but let’s go. For now, maybe just grab a radar gun.”

Summers did as he was told, and within minutes, everyone was dressed in khaki, armed, and ready to go.

As they started off, Jason looked up again and was amazed. The fog was already very, very thick.

IN A hunting circle fifteen minutes later, they walked slowly, heads pointed up.

The fog was a tomb, no signs of life at all, and Craig wondered if they were wasting their time. “Think it’s still up there, Hoss?”

Darryl’s head slowly turned. “Don’t know for sure. But stay sharp; everybody stay sharp.”

An hour later, Craig was exhausted. So were Jason, Lisa, Monique, and Phil. After staring at the white mist for as long as they had, their necks hurt and their vision had blurred.

Darryl Hollis was as alert as ever, studying the fog in every direction, his bow and arrow always at the ready. “This thing is smart. Knew we’d be looking for it.” He squinted, trying to see into the fog. “If we can’t see it, it can’t see us, right?”

Jason shook his head. “It might be able to see through the fog, Darryl. The visual cortex in that brain wasn’t small either.”

Monique nodded. “Its eyes evolved in total darkness. It’s either blind or has fantastic vision.”

Craig scanned the whiteness with his rifle. “No way in hell is it blind.” He vividly recalled the way the Demonray’s eyes had watched them, studied them. “For all we know it could be up there right now.”

Darryl slowly halted. “I think it is.”

THE CREATURE coasted silently, studying the six upturned human faces.

Its eyes moved slowly, patiently, taking in everything about them. Their eyes. Their bodies. Their clothes. And then their weapons.

JASON GLANCED at the rifle in his hands.

“It can detect our guns.”

“What?” Darryl had heard him but didn’t understand.

“It can detect the metal in these rifles. I don’t know if it understands what they’re used for, but it knows we’re holding them.”

Craig removed his radar gun. “You think it can detect this?”

Jason glanced at it. “When you turn it on.”

A nod. “All right, I’m going t—”

“Don’t bother.” Darryl continued to look up. “If it will sense it anyway, what’s the point?”

“Because it will confirm if it’s really up there.”

Darryl’s eyes didn’t leave the fog. “Believe me, it’s up there. You really think it can see us, Jason?”

“Probably.”

“It’s time for a game of chicken, then.”

Jason looked up curiously. “What do you want to do?”

“Aim right at it. If it sees me, it will get the hell out of the way, then reveal where it is.” In an instant, Darryl drew an arrow back, and rapidly swept it across the fog. “This thing doesn’t have spiritual powers I don’t know about, does it?”

“You never know.”

“OK, everybody aim at a different patch of fog. Keep your marks twenty feet apart. Now.”

A clever strategy, Jason thought. He wondered if it would work.

They aimed at six different patches.

Then waited.

There were no signs of movement, just a silent white mass.

They continued to wait. Nothing happened.

“It could have flown away,” Jason whispered.

Darryl continued to stare. “It could have. But I don’t think it did. The damn thing’s playing chicken all right. On three, everybody fire five shots. Ready? One. Two… Three.”

Gunfire shattered the silence. Twenty-five bullets and five arrows ripped into the fog bank.

They waited again. But nothing moved.

Craig raised the radar gun. “I’m gonna use this now, OK?”

Darryl exhaled. “Technology hunting” was unnatural, untrustworthy, the opposite of how he’d been taught to hunt. But he couldn’t say no here. “Go ahead.”

Craig turned on the gun. A sweeping green line appeared on the rear display and then he swept it across the white.

But there was no reading, just an empty sweeping line. “Maybe it’s really not up there.”

Darryl shook his head. Something didn’t feel right. He couldn’t say what—but something. “This damn thing is smart. I don’t like this.” He studied the fog. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

The others paused. Go back to the cabin?

“You sure, Darryl?” Jason asked.

“I don’t want anyone getting killed out here. Let’s go.”

But then Darryl Hollis didn’t move. A particular patch of fog had caught his eye, and he stared at it.

THE BLACK eyes looked right back at him.

The predator wasn’t flying anymore. Like cellophane, its entire winged body was wrapped around the trunk of a redwood, gently rising and falling as it breathed.

The eyes suddenly shifted. To something on the dirt. The predator had been so focused on the humans that it hadn’t detected it. But something had just moved. The faces turned to it as well.

“HEY, LOOK.” Monique saw it first, a mountain-lion cub, the size of a house cat, with little paws and golden fur with dark stripes. The tiny animal had been there all along, but none of them had noticed it. One of its hind legs was caught in a bear trap, and it had just made a sudden and useless attempt to escape.

Darryl shook his head. “Somebody should kill that thing.”

Monique gave her husband a filthy look. Then she trotted over to it.

As she did, Jason ran his eyes up and down a few of the redwoods. What if the predator had somehow attached itself to a tree? No one had aimed at a tree; their shots would have missed it, just as Craig’s radar gun would have. Jason followed the largest trunk from the ground into the fog. Was the predator smart enough to realize they wouldn’t fire at a tree?

“Jason.” Darryl was looking at the same spot. “You think?”

“Maybe.”

Suddenly there was a hissing scream—from the mountain-lion cub. Monique was crouched over it, yanking hard on the clamps that had ensnared its paw.

Darryl turned angrily. “Not the time for that, Monique! Just shoot the damn thing!”

The clamps snapped open, and Monique was her typical calm self. “No need for that, Husband.” She lifted the little animal gently, crying softly now, like a cat that wanted its milk.

“Keep it quiet,” Darryl snapped.

Monique walked over. “Shut up, Darryl.”

He ignored her and turned back to the tree.

THE BLACK eyes focused on the cub, studying it, analyzing it. Then they returned to Darryl.

One of his arrows was pointing right at it now. Pulled back in the bow and ready to fire.

The Demonray didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

DARRYL GAZED at the patch of white above the tree trunk. Unsure if the predator was up there or not, he noted how quiet it was. No movement at all. He lowered the bow and turned away.