Nashatyr

      A pale dawn was breaking. The rain sprinkled lightly a couple more times and then stopped, much to Zoya's relief. She was thoroughly tired of getting wet - unlike her strange companion, who apparently genuinely enjoyed the dampness. Nashatyr didn't hide from the rain, and the perpetually moist state of his skin didn't seem to bother him at all.       It felt noticeably warmer, likely due to a change in wind direction. But for how long? Without shelter, a frail human body wouldn't last long here. Turning to Nashatyr for warmth seemed like an absolute last resort - yesterday's experiences were quite enough... Build a shelter? She could try, but it was unclear if they would move on today or stay put. Was it worth starting?       Unfortunately, Nashatyr wasn't providing any definite information. Having finished processing the skull, he wandered off again in an unknown direction, putting on his mask and gesturing for Zoya to stay put. Obediently settling on her backpack, the researcher waited for the Hunter's return. If he planned to return, that is. Lost in thought and sighing, she observed the tiny creatures bustling in the moss. At any other time, these little things would have filled her with genuine delight, but now the zoologist remained almost indifferent. Perhaps her capacity for wonder had simply been exhausted...       The invisible alien emerged silently from the thicket. Apparently, he had been scouting. He materialized and beckoned her to follow. Well, alright then...       Hoisting the backpack onto her shoulders, Zoya set off after her guide, into the unknown. Today's journey was much easier. Firstly, the woman had managed to rest somewhat, and secondly, she had eaten a little. Moreover, Nashatyr seemed to be getting used to the human's presence. It no longer felt like Zoya had simply tagged along with the alien Hunter, who was tolerating her nearby while barely containing his irritation. On the contrary, he now periodically looked back if he went ahead, waiting for her to catch up, and moved exclusively on the ground.       Around midday, the travelers found themselves in a part of the forest that seemed vaguely familiar to Zoya... She couldn't say for certain, but that tree over there, she seemed to have seen before... And those boulders lying nearby... Wait... Wasn't that where the whole group had taken photos a week ago?       Up ahead, a clearing came into view, and beyond it something recognizable, bright red... Zoya couldn't believe her eyes. Nashatyr had led them to their research camp! There was her own stupidly glaring "eye-searing" red tent... After this expedition, Zoya remembered vowing to herself to throw it out and buy a new one.       The woman stopped, listening. The Hunter stood behind her right shoulder.       Silence...       After waiting a moment for propriety's sake, Nashatyr nudged the researcher forward, pointing towards the camp with an open palm. Zoya turned to him, puzzled. What did he mean? "I've brought you where you need to be, now go"? But how...       "How do you know?" Zoya asked suspiciously. "Did you see how we were taken from here?"       A satisfied chittering sound came from under the mask. As if showing there was no danger, the Hunter stepped into the clearing first. The woman followed on suddenly wobbly legs. Nashatyr leaned slightly towards her and swept his hand around the camp: "Don't you recognize it? This is your home!"       There was no doubt he had indeed been here before, apparently having studied the area quite well. He had even managed to find the shortest path here, one evidently unknown to the bandits. And it turns out he had seen everything that happened here. He saw and did nothing, the scoundrel... Because he was waiting for the bandits to lead him to their hideout, and he wasn't wrong... He could have intervened earlier, if he had an ounce of humanity, he would have come to help. Hans and Rose would still be alive. And the other guys too... What would it have cost you, you two-meter tall bastard, to help? Would it have diminished you?       Zoya suddenly felt fear knotting in the pit of her stomach, and tears welling up in her eyes. As if in a half-dream, she moved forward. And almost immediately stumbled upon Karl's body... The man was lying face down; it was evident that the corpse was already badly decomposed, and the smell was correspondingly awful.       It was good that the face wasn't visible... Zoya had already seen more dead bodies in the last day than in her entire life, plus dismembered parts... But the swollen blue face of a comrade... No, her psyche might not be able to handle that. Although somehow she would probably have to bury him, she couldn't just leave him...       Carefully circling the corpse, the woman moved between the tents. On the other side of the clearing, she immediately noticed Thomas and Angel. Both were dead. She hadn't seen how they were killed, so until now she had secretly hoped that at least one of them had survived and gone for help... But no. And since the expedition time hadn't run out yet, no one had probably even noticed they were missing. No one was looking for Zoya...       Tears were already making wet tracks down her cheeks without asking permission.       If she had known this area even a little, she could have tried to reach the nearest settlement, it would have been about six kilometers... But alas. Someone in the group had had a navigator, but it had died for some unknown reason in the first few days, and anyway, the terrain wasn't displayed correctly on it. So in terms of orientation, the scientists had relied entirely on their guide. Now Angel was gone, there was no one to guide them... And where Nashatyr might lead her next was too frightening to even think about.       Oh, damn it!..       She came to her senses just in time. The Hunter, it seemed, considered his duty fulfilled and was about to "wave goodbye". Zoya caught up with him already in the thicket.       "Stop!" she yelled. Nashatyr looked back. He had clearly learned this word by now, as he heard it most often and always in the same context.       "No! I don't need to be here!" the woman shook her head and sobbed, barely holding back from crying. "Don't you dare leave me here!"       The alien cocked his head in confusion. The behavior of the human female once again defied explanation. She was practically hanging onto him - it was enough to bewilder anyone.       Literally dragging the Hunter back onto the camp territory, Zoya calmed down a bit, while Nashatyr, in the process, seemed to completely lose understanding of what was happening. He sat down, observing the commotion that had arisen, and thoughtfully scratched the back of his head. In another situation, this human gesture would probably have made Zoya burst out laughing, but now she didn't even notice.       Assured that her companion was waiting for her, the woman forced herself to think more rationally with an incredible effort of will and began to search the tents. First of all, she went into her own. There she found her old mobile phone that had fallen out of her pocket during her escape attempt. That was good, even though there was no signal here...       After finishing with her tent, the researcher examined the rest of the camp and collected some items. Half an hour later, her arsenal included three flashlights - one of which was very powerful - various chemical light sticks, a supply of repellents, a well-stocked first aid kit, a pot, four collapsible canisters, and several packages of instant noodles. She also took a couple of sheets, some clothes and her sleeping bag, as well as all the salt she could find. As much as the woman hoped to find radios, they had vanished - as if into thin air. The bandits had probably taken them.       After some hesitation, the traveler began folding Hans's compact brand-name tent. He no longer needed it, and it could save Zoya's life - it wasn't clear how long they would still have to wander... The tent had a protective color and convenient mosquito nets. For Zoya with her average income, such a model had previously been the ultimate dream. But of course, acquiring it in this way was as sad as could be...       The packing was complete and it was probably time to set off. But first...       "Nashatyr, we should bury them," Zoya said, approaching the Hunter and dumping her load in a pile, pointing at the bodies. The alien stood up and, approaching Karl's corpse, poked its leg for some reason.       "Bury, you understand?" she mimicked the process, to which Nashatyr snorted contemptuously, using gestures to convey the following: pointing at the body - at the ground, then at himself - at Zoya - and into the forest, which could mean: "The dead stay, you and I leave." After which he abruptly headed for the thicket. "Right now."       Zoya cursed. The only thing she could manage was to cover her comrades' corpses with a tarpaulin, which she did, quickly darting back and forth. Then the woman picked up her noticeably increased load and hurried after her impatient companion. As she left, she looked back wistfully at the abandoned camp.       To her great regret, Zoya had absolutely no idea about the area beyond the research site, and when the camp was left behind, the woman once again had to blindly trust her guide. But he too seemed to walk somewhat uncertainly, often looking around and making stops. It seemed he couldn't decide where to go now with the unexpectedly fallen burden on him again. However, soon his step became firmer, and the Hunter suddenly changed direction.       By evening, Nashatyr declared a halt. That is, he stopped and pointed with his claw at himself, at Zoya, and at the ground. The woman collapsed, exhausted. The Hunter climbed a tree, probably also intending to rest. Interesting, how much does he weigh that the branches don't break with his size? An adult male orangutan, still capable of climbing trees, reaches a mass of one hundred to one hundred and fifty kilograms, and moves very, very slowly. All known larger organisms are already terrestrial. But this one, look at him, feels at home up there, and even manages to jump. It's one of two things: either he's lighter than he looks, or he can estimate the strength of each support with amazing accuracy, since he hasn't broken his neck yet.       Catching her breath, the researcher set up the tent and dragged her things inside. Nashatyr came down several times to look and disappeared again. At his next appearance, Zoya showed him the flame of a lighter, and in response, to her great joy, received an affirmative nod of the head. Then, after making a small fire, the woman went for water. Somewhere nearby there was a gurgling sound, so it was difficult to make a mistake in finding a water source.       Nashatyr had chosen the campsite with perfect knowledge. The clearing was small, reliably protected on all sides by dense trees. Lianas hung around like curtains, and fluffy moss formed a soft, damp carpet. Two steps away, a conditionally clean spring or rain stream flowed, trickling over the stones in a small waterfall.       While Zoya was figuring out how best to fill the canisters, she was joined by the Hunter, who was probably also tormented by thirst. His mask was fastened at his waist. Zoya shuddered with surprise, not yet used to the sight of the alien face, but Nashatyr paid no attention to this, rushing to the stream. Pressing his toothy maw to the stones and waiting for a little water to flow into his mouth, he tilted his head back, and then repeated this procedure several times. In short, he drank roughly like a bird. Probably, with such jaws, he didn't have much choice in this regard...       Having drunk his fill, Nashatyr yielded the spot to Zoya. The woman placed the canister under the strongest of the streams, continuing to glance at the alien shuffling nearby out of the corner of her eye. How... strange he was, after all. She was so tempted to check if it wasn't just a carnival mask on him.       Catching another of her glances, Nashatyr spread his oral appendages apart amiably and stared with his round button-like eyes. Perhaps this was how he smiled. His face definitely had expressions, but reading them was very difficult.       Here, the herpetologist had an idea that seemed, at first glance, quite good. While Nashatyr was hanging around here without his mask, she could seize the moment and film him, so there would be evidence later. Zoya discreetly took out her mobile phone from her pocket and unlocked it. There wasn't much charge left, but it would be enough for one or two photos. After all, she didn't know exactly when their paths would part, maybe tomorrow it would be too late?       As soon as Nashatyr moved a little further away and turned half-sideways, Zoya aimed the camera and pressed the shutter. The flash went off. The Hunter darted to the side. Zoya automatically pressed twice more. The white light picked out the tense figure from the forest twilight.       How stupid of her! To forget about the flash...       In two leaps, Nashatyr reached her and knocked the phone out of her hands, obviously taking it for some kind of weapon. Pain darkened her vision, Zoya bent over, clutching her pulsing wrist. It felt as if she had tried to stop a moving train with her hand...       Growling angrily, the Hunter reached for the woman with his clawed paw. He stomped the phone into the mud with a swing. Zoya looked in horror at the monster's widely spread jaws. Nashatyr narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow, advancing on his errant companion. She had no choice but to collapse to the ground again, demonstrating that she posed no danger.       Fortunately, this time he came to his senses faster than yesterday, figuring out the situation and stopping his "scolding". He lifted his foot and looked at the broken device unknown to him. Apparently recognizing his mistake, he scraped the phone out of the mud and sheepishly tried to return it to Zoya.       "Keep it," she grumbled, getting up and trying to move her hand. Luckily, the blow had been glancing, and she had avoided serious injury. Had it been otherwise, Zoya would not have escaped a fracture...       Nashatyr purred prolongedly and placed the device on a small stone. Not wanting to bother his companion any further, he withdrew. Zoya sighed and hid the damaged mobile phone in her pocket, then continued to collect water. Well, what's the use of being angry? It was her own fault...       But it was too early to calm down. When the third canister was half full, an indignant roar came from the direction of the "camp". Abandoning everything, the researcher rushed towards the sound, not really thinking at that moment that it might signal danger. Although there was no danger after all. But what met the woman's astonished gaze caused extreme indignation. Nashatyr had decided to examine the tent out of boredom. Since it was designed for an average human, not an alien giant, he had gotten stuck in it and, frightened that he had fallen into some clever trap, had wrecked it, tearing three walls out of four in the process. Now, having extricated himself from the canvas, he was trying his best to "save face", pretending that nothing had happened and he was just passing by. Zoya was furious.              "Why the hell did you do that???" she burst out. Perhaps yelling at the fanged creature was reckless, but she couldn't contain herself. Fortunately, there were no consequences. Instead of answering, Nashatyr silently and with dignity disappeared behind the trees.       For the rest of the evening, Zoya cursed under her breath as she mended the ruined canvas, fortunately finding a needle and thread in her backpack. It seemed as if Nashatyr was simply mocking her! And while Zoya understood rationally that he didn't mean it, and in the situation with the phone, she herself had been careless, it didn't make her feel any better.       After some time, the Hunter returned as if nothing had happened and sympathetically bent over his companion as she sewed, as if inquiring how she was doing. The woman barely suppressed the urge to hit him with something - she was held back by a healthy fear of angering the alien killer again, and there was nothing suitable at hand... After hovering nearby and seemingly sensing the negativity thickening around his companion, Nashatyr once again left her, retreating into the thicket.       A dirty gray haze of twilight descended on the selva like a gigantic blanket. Low-hanging clouds foretold an imminent downpour. The ensuing silence was broken only by the rattling trills of some local insects, the cozy crackling of flames, and the bubbling of the kettle. The water was boiling for the second time. Zoya removed the kettle from the fire and set it aside to cool, so she could pour it back into the canisters later. There were several packages of purification tablets in the first aid kit, but the researcher preferred good old-fashioned boiling, now that it was possible.       Having finished repairing her temporary dwelling and firmly setting it up between the trees, the researcher quickly snacked on "trucker's food," crunching a packet of noodles and washing it down with boiling water. It would do for now. The Hunter was still absent. She had to go to bed without waiting for him. Zoya crawled into the tent, which now resembled Frankenstein's monster, blissfully changed into clean clothes, and wrapped herself in her sleeping bag. The first drops of rain fell on the canvas roof, under the lullaby of which the tired traveler quickly fell asleep.       The next morning began with Nashatyr. Peering out of the tent, sleepy Zoya literally came face to face with him - it seemed he was guarding the entrance or simply waiting for her to wake up. He was without his mask and was fiddling with something in his paws. When the woman crawled out of the shelter and approached the Hunter, he, as if apologizing for yesterday, held out a branch studded with dark pink fruits. Zoya puzzledly turned the branch in her hands, plucked one of the berries, and sniffed it suspiciously. The scent was very subtle, barely perceptible. Nashatyr growled and slightly moved his head, extending all four oral appendages. Obviously, this meant something like: "Eat, I'm treating you!" The woman doubtfully examined the berry, and then held it out to the Hunter, but he squeamishly frowned and shook his head, as if to say, I don't eat such things.       "Then how do you know I can eat this?" Zoya exclaimed.       Apparently, he guessed from her intonation what she was asking, as he pulled out from behind his back a bunch of... dead toucans. About five of them.       "Oh my..." was all the woman could utter, throwing up her hands.       Nashatyr pointed a claw at the swaying bird beaks, then at the berries, then at Zoya. Well, yes, apparently his logic was in order: if Earth birds ate these fruits before his eyes, then they could also be suitable for human consumption. It was unpleasant to realize, but it seemed that the Hunters knew much more about humans than humans knew about them. They even knew what humans ate. Only with raw meat did they make a mistake.       Still somewhat doubtful, the woman dared to try the exotic fruit, and to her pleasure, it turned out to be quite good. She decided to eat one for now, and after a while, if she didn't feel unwell, finish the rest.       Seeing that Zoya had stopped eating, Nashatyr grunted in confusion, thrust the toucans at her, put on his mask, and once again climbed a tree, disappearing from view. The good-natured, big-beaked birds were terribly pitiful, but in their current state, they differed little from supermarket chicken, and hunger was making itself felt, so Zoya struggled to light a small fire using the remains of her notebook and, sighing, began to pluck the game.       The Hunter was absent all day, appearing only at sunset when nothing but bones remained of his prey. Zoya reasoned that since he had given her all the toucans and left, he would catch something else for his own dinner. Anyway, their carcasses after plucking and gutting turned out to be quite tiny, barely enough for her to eat her fill, and for this giant, it would have been just a morsel.       Nashatyr indeed showed no displeasure about the lack of food. After circling the "camp" perimeter, he settled down to rest, burrowing into a mossy mattress among the roots of the nearest tree. He didn't remove his mask, so it was unclear whether he was sleeping or awake.       Zoya stood up, stretching her numb legs, covered the fire pit with earth, and also went to rest, wishing her companion good night but hearing no sound in response. It was starting to drizzle again, promising to intensify soon.       To the steady tapping of raindrops on the tent roof, Zoya closed her eyes and sank into thought. The past day had been the first relatively calm one in recent times. She didn't have to escape from anyone, didn't have to run anywhere, didn't have to drag anything. Nashatyr didn't bother her, busy with his own affairs, only bringing food - today he had been an almost ideal companion. And now she could finally sleep peacefully, being under his vigilant protection... It was even starting to be somewhat enjoyable.       The train of thought was interrupted by the crackle of bushes outside. Zoya peeked out from under the canopy. It turned out she had jinxed it: despite the rain that had picked up in earnest, the Hunter had slipped away again. Of course, he hadn't been hired as a guard, but still...       Every time Nashatyr left her, the woman wondered if he intended to return, and if he didn't, whether that was good or bad... Probably bad, because at the moment he remained her only key to salvation. He could protect her, he fed her for some reason, he confidently led her through the dangerous forest. It was just unclear what he himself got from their joint time-spending. And here lay a serious catch. Zoya still had no idea where exactly Nashatyr was heading, just as she didn't know his true intentions. When her research interest temporarily receded, the realization surfaced that her companion was not just a biological specimen, but a sentient being. This meant any kind of surprises could be expected... How safe was it to follow him? And what would happen when they arrived wherever they were going? The guesses frightened Zoya. But not more than the prospect of being left alone with her own helplessness. What would she do if he up and abandoned her here? Zoya didn't know where she was, she had almost no food, no weapons, and wild animals and... brr... no less wild people were roaming around... If she had to choose between unpredictable Nashatyr and a predictable crowd of bandits, the latter clearly lost out.       Was she afraid of the Hunter? Yes. And no. Frankly speaking, Zoya experienced very, very complex feelings. First and foremost, there was a persistent sense of the unreality of what was happening. She saw before her eyes living proof of the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations, but subconsciously tried to deny what she saw. As soon as Nashatyr disappeared somewhere, her brain began to perceive recent events as if they were a dream. As soon as Nashatyr reappeared in view, her brain began to mercilessly glitch... Against her will, Zoya immersed herself in an intoxicating feeling of true delight. The proximity of her unique companion caused a sharp surge of adrenaline, making her forget about possible danger. And then the woman risked losing control of the situation and her own actions, desperately trying to understand, study, touch... The herpetologist first felt something similar a long time ago when she first held a venomous snake in her hands.       ...When you press the beast's neck with a hook, you are in relative safety. But at the moment of grasping the writhing body with your hand, the world seems to turn upside down. And then you're holding the indignant creature by the corners of its jaw, and every moment of what's happening takes on an almost implausible clarity. You know that a couple of centimeters from your fingers are fangs with deadly venom. You have no right to loosen your grip because it could cost you your life. You spend a long and agonizing time figuring out how to release the snake now so that it doesn't have time to strike... And at the same time, you inwardly exult, feeling in your hands a damn strong and dangerous, but indescribably beautiful creature...       Yes, she was undoubtedly afraid of him. And at the same time, he attracted her like an uncaught specimen of a herpetological collection; like an undescribed species about which she wanted to know everything. So, it seemed, there was much more in common between them than Zoya could initially have assumed...