Predator

49

"What right does she have?" Liam's voice carried disdain as he reached into Amelia's palm and took the wad of money now damp with sweat. "She is not ruthless enough, can't handle a spear. She's useless."

"With you, it's enough." S shrugged indifferently, continuing to inspect the goods. "What she doesn't dare to do, isn't that what you're for?"

What's the use of a woman? A true hunter only thinks about how to sharpen their blade.

As the heavy military boots walked away, the golden-haired man paused briefly by the iron cage in the corner. "Push it back."

Some mercenaries responded, busily working. In a place out of their sight, S turned around, rubbing his aching knee.

"The rainy season is coming."

Every year during the rainy season, his half-leg always hurt for a while. He recently kept dreaming of that day, with continuous rain, during the East African migration season. A novice with a spear on his back, gripping a hunting rifle, his palms constantly sweating.

Finally, he had spotted a lone bull elephant. As the gunshot rang out, the ground trembled slightly. Behind him was the heavy breathing and angry trumpet of an approaching elephant. It was the companion of the fallen elephant, rushing to help. The novice was so scared that he couldn't even hold his gun, and he was knocked to the ground by the tusk. The thick elephant leg was reflected in his wide, frightened blue eyes.

S heard the sound of his own leg bone breaking. They had spared his life, turning him into a cripple. But what did that matter? Even as a cripple, the elephant blood he was stained with every year was enough to paint the air of the entire city of Nairobi with a color of cruelty.

He turned his stiff eyes, opening a bottle of milk for the little elephant. "Your good days are numbered."

Liam carried Amelia upstairs, stripping off her muddy clothes. The girl stood naked in the bathroom, her tattooed wrist held up to avoid the shower spray. She didn't flinch as the hot water splashed onto her skin.

She said, "I'm not like you. I'm not..."

Not what? Not involved in the hunt? What right did she have to say she wasn't? She was living and sleeping with an executioner. The man's eyelids drooped slightly, but his expression held a touch of solemnity. "Yes. You're not, but I am."

Amelia's eyes, hazy with moisture, fixed on his handsome nose, not daring to meet his gaze.

"What is he to you? He says you've stained your hands with blood, so you're an executioner?"

"You take other people's words to heart, what about mine?"

"Here, you only need to listen to me." He bit her chin, lightly pecking her neck like a comforting lick between kin.

"That elephant, I killed it. The first spear and the second shot, I did it."

"What right do you have? Whose blood have you stained?" Liam turned the showerhead aside, letting her catch her breath. Amelia silently wiped the water from her face.

"Let's go."

He walked ahead, Amelia trailing behind him. Suddenly, a whistle sounded.

It was the mercenary guarding Mike, his face splashed with milk, calling out to Liam.

"What's the matter?"

"Mike is refusing to eat."