River Rapids

==========================================================

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters related to Predator. El, other unrelated human characters, and the character names of the predators Imade up, the concept of predator does not belong to me.



Authors Notes: This is a work of Fan fiction. please read on and enjoy.



WARNING: The following work of fiction contains, extream violence, course language (at times), sexual sudgestions, nudety, and explicit sex. If you are under 18 (or whatever age is appropriate for your location), HIT YOUR BACK BROWSER BUTTON NOW. If you find explicit sex offensive, please don't offend yourself by reading further.



Author: Charlotte (jemstone5)

Email: jemstone505@yahoo.com

Feedback: Please, yes lots.

Forward to others: would be flattered if you did.

==========================================================






River Rapids

Book 2



Chapter 3



The night was surprisingly cool for summer. The old Asian gentleman easily walked down the road, not rushing for anything. In one hand he held a walking stick, almost as tall as his five foot stature, in the other he carried a bag of produce. Nothing special, just lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes, leeks, and bean sprouts. He was bound to make something with it, but as yet he wasn’t quite sure what.


In the middle of the desert he stopped at a gated yard, he unlocked the gate and stepped inside. The once rich and colorful oriental garden had long begun to die. Nothing he did seemed to work. He first noticed trouble when his coy fish suddenly floated dead in the pond next to the fence. He’d had the water tested, fearing auto pollutants had gotten in the water, being next to the road and all, but nothing was reported. Now his once award wining garden was turning brown and mostly dead.


‘It has to be something in the soil,’ he thought, but no matter what he did, his beautiful plants all died.


He kicked off his shoes outside his house, and slipped his tired old feet into his slippers. He didn’t even get a chance to open the door, before it slid aside, a slender young woman with long black hair, wearing a form fitting black dress stared back at him. She just crossed her arms. “I know, I know,” he said to her, a gentle smile to his lips. “I shouldn’t be out so late.”


“No you shouldn’t grandfather,” she replied. Then she put her arms down. “He’s been asking about that girl again.”


“Oh?”


“He wants to go there, and he won’t take no for an answer. I managed to get him to wait for you. I told him you’d like to go as well.”


The old man lay his walking stick against the door. “Has he been upset?”


“Not sense you changed the herbs.”


He nodded. “Here. Take these to kitchen. I make dinner when we get back.”


The girl looked in the bag. “Grandfather, this won’t feed the two of you,” she advised. “The lettuce is all wilted, and the mushrooms are far from fresh.”


The old man leaned against the door frame at the end of the hall. He couldn’t tell her that he was nearly out of money. Sense one of his students was rushed to hospital from the middle of one of his classes, the students stopped coming. About the same time his garden began to die. Then there were the usual bills, and he’d helped Ralph with his emergency medical expenses, that took up the majority of his savings. “It will have to do,” he sighed. “It was all hey had.” He’d turned away from her so she wouldn’t see his face as he told her the lie. The store did have better produce, he just couldn’t afford the fresh, and went to the discount rack instead. The only things he insisted on being fresh, where the tomatoes and bean sprouts.


“I wish you would let me take you home with me,” she begged again.


“I cannot leave here!” he snapped. “Nor will I leave my friend. Please, do not mention it again.”


The girl bowed to the old man. “Yes, grandfather. I promise, I won’t mention it again”


The old man went to her, giving her a hug of reassurance that he wasn’t angry. “I know you mean well,” he sighed. “I just can’t leave.” ‘We cannot leave yet. In case she comes back, even for a moment.’ “Go now, I will see to him.” She nodded and went down the all. The old man went the other way, and lightly tapped on a sliding door. “Ralph? Are you still awake?”


“El?” the voice called weakly.


The old one slid the door open, and stepped inside. “No Ralph, it’s only me.”


“Mr. Com…I thought…”


“I know, I know.” Ralph had been Ro Com’s friend for many years, and when Ralph was awarded temporary guardianship of young El, he’d watched his long time friend come alive again.


A car accident prevented Ralph from being able to make love to his wife. When she learned this, she left him. They didn’t have children then, and all Ralph’s efforts to adopt fell on deaf ears.


Until El.


El had lost her family in the most horrific way, and the only one who got her to respond, was Ralph. The courts granted him custody of her for several reasons. One; he was a long time member of the community in good standing, and a business owner. Two; he checked out clean on his back ground check. Three; the girl was nearly eighteen anyway, and by not putting her in the system, saved social services thousands of dollars. And four; possibly because they were tired of his constant phone calls, nagging them to let him take her in.


When Ralph called to tell him he was coming home, he was so excited that El was coming to stay with him, Mr. Com had to hold the phone away from his ear, and still he heard Ralph perfectly. He’d seen his old friend in a whole new light. A dutiful father figure, trying to work through to the young girl’s heart. Little did he know that it was she who would change him forever.


The night she left with her alien friend was the hardest for him. He only wanted what was best for El, to protect her. She’d been through so much already. He’d told the alien to take her with him, even though it killed him inside to do it. Ralph had hoped they’d have at least one more day, but when the deputies and state troopers showed up, and found her gone, Ralph’s heart just wasn’t the same.


“Chonie said you’d wanted to go for a walk,” Mr. Com said, taking a flannel shirt and track pants form the closet. “You sure you feel up to it?”


“Yes,” he said, trying to sound more alive than his pale weakened body showed him to be. “I want to go…”


“I know. I put a bench there for you, so you’d be more comfortable.”


“Thank you.” Mr. Com helped Ralph dress, then held his walker in front of him as he stood up from bed. Mr. Com patted Ralph’s shoulder to encourage him, and slowly led him out to where they’d left Ralph’s car.


“Have you been having more pain?”


“No,’ Ralph replied, walking slowly through the house. “That new medicine you made seems to have done the trick.”


“Good. Tonight we have bean sprout salad.”


“Oh good, that’ll be nice.”


The two were relatively quiet after that, aside from the occasional good work, or just a little further, nothing else was said. Mr. Com thought back over the last few months. Maybe there was a connection to Ralph’s failing health, and the death of his garden. But for the moment he couldn’t really say.


Shortly after El had left, and the State troopers stopped checking up, Ralph started having problems. Not health problems, but business problems. First he propane tanks would run out unexpectedly, or the truck to refuel the tanks would show up days late. A few times he’d had to close, because he couldn’t heat the oven or the fryers in the kitchen. Coffee and cookies just wasn’t gona pay the bills.


Then the food deliveries would be late, or the orders all messed up, and had to be sent back. After a couple months of this, Mr.Com could see it weighing heavy on the mind of his old friend.


Then Bastian started in on him.


Narrowly keeping his sheriff’s position from the last by-election, Bastian continued to hound Ralph for information on El. Where did she go? Who helped her? Had you heard from her? The added constant pressure proved too great for Ralph, and had collapsed from a heart attack, just as Mr. Com was arriving for his morning coffee.


When he was in hospital the doctors told him his heart was badly damaged from the attack. He was placed on a waiting list for a heart transplant, but his odds of getting the new organ were very slim. Ralph also could no longer work and had to sell his restaurant. The amount he got, paid all his and Mr. Com’s debts, and what was left Mr. Com insisted be saved for his future medical expenses.


Ralph agreed.


Mr. Com had not known what Ralph had done for him, until the bank mortgage officer called and asked if he should mail him the property deed, or was he planning on stopping in to get it, now that the loan had been paid. When Mr. Com asked why, of his friend, all he said was, “No use both of us loosing everything.” It was then Mr. Com insisted that Ralph come stay with him.
Over the next few months, Ralph’s health continued to decline. With the help of the doctor’s medications, and his own herbs, Ralph was able to stay out of hospital, so long as he took things easy.


Ralph had little choice but to agree.


A few weeks later, Chonie, Mr. Com’s only family, came for a surprise visit. She was only supposed to stay a week, then return home to Hawaii to get married, but when she saw her grandfather struggling, she opted to stay longer. Her fiancé understood, he even sent her extra money to tie her over, till they could either sell the property and bring her grandfather home with her, or things improved.


Instead the situation got steadily worse, and her stay form a couple weeks turned to two months, and not seeing her return for some time. To say the least Chonie was worried.


Com stopped the car on the dirt flat, the head lights illuminating a simple wooden bench, over looking the canyon below.

This was the place, that frightening night that El nearly died.


After returning home form hospital with Ralph, El would ride her late brother’s motorbike to this very place, and sit looking out at the Grand Canyon below. It was here that she would wait, for what she could only hope was an end to her pain. No one seemed to be able to loosen the anger in he heart, so that she could grieve. Mr. Com, after helping her train and focus more, thinking it would help, sent for his four best students, masters in their own rights, believing they could help.


He was wrong.


She defeated all of them, but not without serious injury. When he checked on the young men, he could not help but fear for the girl, as all around the gym were spatters and pools of blood. El’s own bloody footprints walking out the door.


Instinctively they knew she’d come here, there was no where else she could go. When they arrived, their fears were made real, picking up Tyler, the highway patrol officer, badly beaten. The worst had yet to be seen. They half expected to find the girl had thrown herself off the cliff, or collapsed form blood loss. But what they found was beyond even their greatest nightmares.


El faced off against a huge alien warrior, for what reason he wished to fight her, they never knew, till much later. At what seemed the pivotal point of either of their deaths in the battle, it all changed. Somewhere, in that long breath held moment, the two combatants started to cry.


El they could understand. But why the alien?”


When reasoning returned to the beast, he turned form wanton killer, to savior, using his own medicines to save El. Over the next days, El safe in her own bed, she managed to gain the alien’s story. He’d lost his wife and child.


Mr. Com could understand. His own wife had died a few years prior. Ralph had been there for him.


They named the huge alien Tusk, for lack of something better. It had taken a while to get used to his crablike face, but when faced with Bastian trying to throw El in jail, Ralph’s protectiveness became fierce. Tyler, not being in uniform when Bastian first tried to force his way in, asked El’s condition. Then to their surprise, told them to send El out of reach of the courts. He’d seen everything from the car that night, regaining consciousness in the back seat, he’d watched the two fight, witnessed their collapse, and watched the alien carry El away, later followed by Ralph and Mr. Com.


After the police searched the property, nearly a week later, and after Tyler had finished his breakfast, Ralph sat down and cried. His days as a father were over.


From there things wend down hill.


Mr. Com helped Ralph sit down, the light of the car illuminating them from behind, then disappointing into the black abyss of the canyon. The wind picked up, sending a cool breeze through their wisps of grey hair. “I remember,” Ralph began trying desperately not to cry, “her smile most of all.”


Mr. Com nodded. “Yes, she was quite the little fire ball wasn’t she?”


“Oh yes. Not that I blame her. I’m glad she never learned the truth about her brother. That would have killed her.”


“What do you think she’s doing now?” Mr. Com asked, looking to the stars.


“Oh, I’d say she’s probably sipping their form of My-Ties on the rings of Saturn by now…if they have that kind of place.”


The two laughed gently. “I wonder what places she’s been to. The kinds of people she’s met.”


“We can only wonder, maybe one day…we’ll see her again. Maybe exhibiting her gymnastic skills to the universe.”


“I hope she remembers to practice fluidity.” Ralph laughed, then began to cough, clutching his chest. “Careful, remember what the doctors have said. No stress.”


“I know, I know.” Ralph then turned his attention back to the sky, the brilliant white twinkling of the stars staring back at him. “I hope she’s happy. Where ever she is.”


“I wonder if Tusk is still with her?”


“I hope so. It would be very lonely out there for her, if he wasn’t.”


Just then, through the chill of the breeze they heard a clicking, like Cast-a-nets. The two looked at each other, then began to look around. “Did you hear that?” Mr. Com asked.


“Yes…could have been a cricket.”


“Crickets don’t make that sound.” Then it came again, closer this time, and in the head lights, a figure began to take shape.


“Oh dear god!”






The stars were always what drew her to the windows. Constantly changing, always something different. She’d even the chance to see a gas nebula once, shades of blue, white, red, rust orange, and yellow. It was so beautiful, she’d found herself crying, for no reason at all. But this time…this time she looked out, and all she saw was the giant planet surrounded by rings. She could see the small flyers with their sleds and baskets, the hunters, turned prospectors, firing grapple lines into the floating stones or chunks of space ice. They dug out what they needed, sending the slag rock back into space, while securing the ice chunks to the sleds in more manageable sizes.


She slid her hand over her growing babies, wondering if they would be alright. If they would wonder about her home world, as she wondered about their father’s. Would they ask to visit? Would they hate her if she said no? She wondered what they would do, or feel, at their first human hunt trial. Most importantly, when the realization of her being part of their prey species, would they hat her and hunt her?


“El?” she watched M’Pa’s reflection in the glass like surface in front of her, as he made his way from the door. “El, what are you doing here?”


“I couldn’t sleep,” she lied. She could sleep, she just wanted a moment alone.


“El, you know you need your rest.” Gently he put his arms around her, purring above her head. Then he noticed where she was looking, as though transfixed by some prey that would disappear if she looked away. “You want to go back there. Don’t you?”


“I’m not leaving the ship,” she replied defensively, nearly crying. Would she ever see Earth again up close? Would she ever walk in its grasses again? See the desert at dawn and dusk? Would she ever look…


“I didn’t say that, no did I?” He turned her to him, gently hands that could so easily snap her neck, slowly stroked her tear damp face. “I asked if you wanted to g back there.” She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. “It’s alright if you say yes.”


“But…” she looked down as she held her hands protectively over her babies.


“I know you feel that your duty, as our mate, is to stay here and have our babies, where it is safe. But understand,” he drew her eyes to his again, “wherever we are, you are always safe.”


“I can’t breathe down there…”


“No, but we have emergency masks…don’t make your decision now. Just think about it. Come. There is still much time to the sleep cycle. Let us spend it together.” He led her back to their room, where he curled around her body again. Though she listened as his purring turned to gently breaths of sleep, the rest he sought her to get, was far from coming.


Gently she stroked her stretched skin, praying that her babies would understand her choice, but at the moment, she wondered herself about the choice she’d made.






Ver’On bid good hunting to the unbloods and their instructors, he then piloted the ship himself to where he could land it quietly out of the way, and with Tan’ock they ventured out into the night, leaving only three young bloods to guard the ship. He’d left orders not to launch unless directly approached, or if he contacted them for pick up. The oldest of the young bloods took the charge, and assured Ver’On that the ship was in good hands.


Now, the two hunters perched on the roof of the exercise facility, Ver’On remembering in gleeful delight, the battle that waged with his mate, back then, and the four males that she throttled. It wasn’t until now that he’d realized, he’d been aroused by her performance, but that the desire to bring down a worthy trophy prevailed over all else. Hiding his embarrassment, he turned to Tan’ock, as the hunter scanned the buildings below.


“I do not see an eating establishment,” Tan’ock stated.


“It should be there,” said Ver’On, also beginning his scan. “That is odd.” Where the restaurant had once been, now was occupied by three different avenues of business. One carried plants and foliage, the other carried clothing and furniture for small people; Ooman babies, he surmised. The third, well it was an eating place of sorts, just not the same as the large man’s place had been.


“What do we do?” Tan’ock asked.


Ver’On scanned the area. There had to be someone. Someone he recognized as being with the large man. He shifted the sight on his mask to Ooman normal, as he spotted an older man with a stick walking out of town. He magnified the sight, and found it to be the older thin man, that was a friend to El’s guardian. “We follow him,” Ver’On stated, pointing to the old man as he walked. “I remember him from before. He is a friend to the other one. If anyone has knowledge as to what has happened here, he would.”


“Do we approach him now?”


“No. He’s too frail. He’ll probably die from shock. Let us wait till he is home and relaxed, before making contact. I may also be wrong. I may be confusing him with another Ooman. Some of them all look the same to me.”


The two hunters descended the roof, and caught up to the old man heading out of town. On silent feet they continued to follow, even into the gated yard by scaling the fence, when the old one only opened it wide enough to allow passage for himself, then locked it again from the inside. Tan’ock stood nearest the old man, as Ver’On scanned the surrounding dying vegetation.


Something was very wrong here.


As the door to the dwelling slid open, Tan’ock was shocked to see a young female in the doorway, her body, though shapely, was all scrunched up, as she confronted the old man. They spoke for a few minutes before heading inside and closing the door. Tan’ock then joined Ver’On near the small pond of stagnant water. “There are so few females here. How did you ever find El?”


“Never mind that for the moment. Look here. What do you see?”


Tan’ock looked to the water and the ground, shifting through the different sights. “This water is dead.”


“I know that, but what else do you see?”


Tan’ock looked again. “I’m not sure. I’ve never studied Ooman cultivation techniques. Have you?”


“No, but if you were to keep a body of water with fish to eat in it,” Ver’On pulled up one of the filtration units, turning it as he continued, “would you replenish the filtering mechanism with a substance that produced more carbon dioxide, rather the oxygen that the life forms needed to survive?”


“You can tell that from looking at it? How?”


“My grand Uncle was a water specialist on the ship. He tried once to keep water type food alive, but never quite got the filters right. He did tell me much of how it worked. Learn what they breathed to survive, and what they exhaled. Make the filtering systems to replenish what they needed, by removing what would kill them. This,” and he dropped the unit back in the water, “was a deliberate sabotage.”


“And the plants?” Tan’ock asked, quickly scanning the ground around them. The chemical make up of the ground began to read back on his mask. “Phosphorous. There is too much phosphorous in the soil.”


“Yes. Again, deliberate.”


“But who?” The answer came as several boards on the fence across from them drew back, and someone crawled under with a large bag. Ver’On motioned for Tan’ock to follow him, and together they went to the roof of the dwelling, and watched as the intruder began to spread a powder over the ground, especially around the dying plants, and making sure that the ones that were still alive got a good dose.


I know him, Ver’On signaled. He is the law keeper of this place.


Tan’ock wanted to growl. Is he not breaking his laws now? he asked. Ver’On nodded, but held the hunter back.


You came for a mate, not a hunt. Remember that, he signed. Tan’ock nodded.


Just then a door to the side of the dwelling opened, and the intruder in the gardens crouched low, as not to be seen. Ver’On looked to see the thin old man walking out slowly, with El’s guardian. But something was terribly wrong.


El’s guardian walked with some kind of frame work in his hands to stay upright. His body had lost much of its former bulk, and his breathing was very haggard.


‘What have they done to them?’ Ver’On wondered, and motioned for Tan’ock to remain at the dwelling till he returned. Tan’ock nodded.


Ver’On watched the two get into one of the land vehicles, and drive away. If his suspicions were correct, he knew exactly where they were going. He leapt from the roof, over the fence, and ran off into the hills. His mask’s tracking system, selecting the target of the vehicle, and his co-ordinates for their supposed destination, then led him on another path to the same place, cutting off much of the distance. The vehicle would still arrive ahead of him, but he would get there.


What seemed like an Ooman time cycle later, about an hour, Ver’On reached the hill that separated him from the two males. He was right. The pair had come to the cliff, where they all had first met. Ver’On activated the translation program of his mask, finding it simple to use the built in receptors and transmitters in the mask, than to create usable, wearable, devices for his kind. When he told Kal-esh and Tan’ock about the idea it had taken some time to get the program to function properly without crashing the program of the mask, but in the end, it was well worth it.


He listened as the two reminisced about El, wondering what she was doing, where she was going, and what she was experiencing. As Ver’On silently walked around the bluff, remembering his own deadly dance with El, he could hardly believe that she was now his mate, and about to give birth to his first offspring.


“I wonder if Tusk is still with her?” It was the sound of his short name that had brought his attention back to the pair, as he stood between the two and their vehicle.


“I hope so. It would be very lonely out there for her, if he wasn’t.” Of course she was still with him. Where else would she go? Without realizing it, he clicked his tusks together as though the statement the guardian made was ridiculous, that he would even fathom that Ver’On would abandon El.


The two males began to look around. “Did you hear that?”


He’d blown his observation! How could he do that? The first rule of hunting. ALWAYS stay quiet.


“Yes…could have been a cricket.” But then, he wasn’t hunting was he. Not in the sense that he would kill.


“Crickets don’t make that sound.” He decided that sense they knew he was there, he may as well show himself. He clicked his mandibles together again, before dropping his cloaking shield.


“Oh dear god!”