Predator If It Bleeds 23

"My turn," growled Husker John. He picked up Conroy's spear, the tip still slick with the Yautja's luminescent green blood.

"No, let me," Pope said, preparing to step forward.

"No, suh. I don't want to see any more of us die, so I'm a goin'." And with that, he stepped forward into the bloodied dirt in the center of the box canyon.

The hulking Yautja raised its arms in the air. Its mandibles clacked together feverishly. It held the same long spear that Pope had seen wielded before, the blade wide, long and curiously curved. The warrior stepped forward. Husker John began to jog, then to run at his opponent. He was within five yards when he reared back and threw the spear at the Yautja. The warrior brought its own spear around and swept the missile out of the way. But that left it open.

It tried to bring the spear back around, but Husker John was already upon it. The Buffalo Soldier grabbed the Yautja's neck, spun around behind it, pulled out his skinning knife, then cut the neck down to bone. Husker John held his opponent by the face, grabbing hold of one of the mandibles. They flared briefly, then sagged as luminescent green life spurted free from the enemy warrior.

Husker John let it fall to the ground, then strode back to where Pope waited, mouth agape, then grinning from ear to ear. "You did it! You won!"

"Yeah, but the others didn't and now I gots to see you die, too." Pope grew somber.

"I'm not going to die. My name is
Providence Pope and God has something else in store for me." He grabbed his hatchet and strode to the center.-pg.122 chpt.4