A Man of the Mountain - Smile for the Camera

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14. Smile for the Camera

Jonas waited. He could still feel the tearing sensation of the kill on his hands, only this time it was different. The other attacks had required a degree of measured precision; this one just felt like instinct. From his vantage point, he could see the entire snowy field below the frozen falls. He knew getting Mansen’s team to scale the chute was an impossibility. He was going to have to face them on the open plain. The thick powder would slow them down, and the storm had begun in earnest, providing the cover he desperately needed.

     Heavy flakes fell continuously, and a thick white fog had crept into the air. Visibility was poor, and he doubted anyone would be able to see even ten feet in front of them. Luckily, the crew were all wearing headlamps. Their reflections on the flakes would light up the field like the Fourth of July. After that, it was just a matter of speed. He would need to cross the field before any of them noticed something was wrong.

     Across the field, he could see the dim glow of lights emerging from the forest. Jonas took care as he picked his way down the chute, not wanting to end the fight before it even began. Soon, he was at the bottom, creeping into the snowy field, feeling the wind across his fur. He looked down at his arm and saw the brown fur flecked with white. Even better for camouflage.

     His legs tensed in anticipation as the glow grew brighter and he began to hear voices. They had made it, and just like that, time slowed to a crawl. Jonas switched to heat vision and saw ten figures approaching. It was a surprise that more had not turned around at the site of the body, but he supposed it didn’t matter. The crew stopped at the edge of the tree line, swinging their heads back and forth, scanning the field. What are they doing? As if in answer to his question, he saw one of them raise something into the air. A moment later, a spotlight illuminated, momentarily causing him to squint. One of the figures stepped into the spotlight and Jonas heard a voice carrying over the wind.

     It was Mansen, speaking with the same boldness he was known for on television.

     The idiot is still doing the piece. Despite the bodies, and the conditions, Mansen was still shooting his television show. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Of the ten that were there, eight were armed with rifles and two carried pistols. Jonas didn’t know which one would be Ventner, but his primary target was visible. There was no hesitation. He took off across the field as fast as he could, tearing through the powder easily with his new snowshoes.

     Jonas didn’t immediately go for Mansen. Darkness was his priority. The crew had all turned off their headlamps, ensuring that no one would mess up the lighting for the shot. Jonas scanned the area and saw a camerawoman shivering, fumbling with something just beneath the light. It was the portable battery source. Too easy. As he neared, he could see the nervous figures pointing their weapons out in all directions. He was past the point of no return. Jonas put on a final burst of speed and leapt into the light.

     He was illuminated only for a moment, a hulking mass of brown fur streaking through the field like a cannon ball. The crew stood motionless, frozen in terror, and unable to fire their weapons. From the right, there was a loud crack as a pistol shot rang out, and Jonas felt a stinging pressure where it had struck the armor. The spot where the bullet had hit quickly went numb. Paying no heed, he stayed his course and with a quick slash cut the powerlines sending sputtering sparks into the field. The mountain was plunged once more into darkness.

     Flashes erupted in the night as the crew shook off their confusion and survival instincts took over. It was as if some hive mind told them to start firing at the same time. Jonas thought it was a miracle none of them hit each other. Bullets whizzed past him, but none found their mark. There were loud crunches as the bullets ricocheted into the ice wall behind him and bounced harmlessly into the deep snowy field.

     “Headlamps, you idiots!” shouted Mansen. Immediately, cones of light burst into being, temporarily blinding and confusing the crew.

     “Aim center mass and group together,” called one of the men from the side. “Don’t bother with the head. If it separates us, it’ll just pick us off one-by-one.” Jonas could only assume it was Ventner. The voice carried the same cocky demeanor, and his suggestions weren’t asinine.

     Jonas had moved away from the main group and lay low, concealed behind a snowdrift. Lights swept back and forth, searching, but the storm prevented them from spotting him. Venter was right of course; it would be much harder to pick them off when they were tightly clustered. That wasn’t going to do. Carefully, Jonas moved out from behind the snowdrift, sucked in a big breath, and let out his mightiest roar. The sound echoed around the field, reverberating back, almost as if there were two of him. Immediately, the group trained their guns on his position and began to fire.

     The real question is how much ammunition they have. The roar worked like a charm. After the first few seconds of firing, the group slowly began to scatter.

     “Stick with me!” yelled Mansen, trying to worm his way between interns for safety.

     Coward. Jonas roared again, running circles around the group. Soon, the crew were scattered completely, and Mansen was exposed. Jonas saw his moment and seized it. He leapt forward into Mansen’s direct line of site. He wanted to see his face when the blow came down.  

     Mansen’s eyes locked with his. Terror seized the man, and the bravado was gone in an instant. He raised his rifle, arms shaking, and fired. A plume of snow shot up next to Jonas. He continued to run. Mansen fired again and Jonas heard a sickening crunch as the high-caliber bullet struck his left shoulder. Body armor can only protect against so much, he thought, trying to block out the pain. The left side of his body quickly grew numb. It doesn’t matter. Stay the course.

     Mansen was between Jonas and the rest of the crew, making it impossible for them to fire on him. When there was only five feet between them, Mansen pulled the trigger of the rifle one final time. Jonas could smell the powder, the barrel pointed right at his head. At this range, it wouldn’t matter. He prepared for the darkness, smiling, knowing that he would die a warrior’s death. His heart rate sped up, thumping in his chest, trying to get in as many beats as possible before the end.

     Mansen pulled the trigger. There was a hollow click. He was out of ammunition. Jonas almost stumbled but maintained his momentum. With massive force, he plunged both claws into Mansen’s abdomen and swept him into the air. He held him aloft for a moment, stunned at what he had accomplished. Slowly, he brought Mansen to eye-level, watching as the fraud sputtered and gasped, trying to say something. Jonas howled fearsomely and then pulled back, letting the body drop to the ground.

     Most of the crew had run, but two remained. Mansen’s death was sweet, but there was no time for savoring. He looked at the pair standing in front of him and turned off his heat vision to get a better look. He only had a second to take it in. Standing before him were Nick Ventner, and…

     BOOM. Shirley’s handgun went off, hitting Jonas in the side. The pain he felt was immeasurable, but nothing compared to how he felt seeing her standing next to Ventner. Nick had a pistol of his own raised and was taking careful aim.

     Nick pulled the trigger, missing only by a hair.

     Running on pure instinct, Jonas fled. Shots rang out from behind him, but neither hit their mark. He ran into the darkness, using the storm for cover. Sharp pain spiderwebbed out from where the bullet had hit the armor on his shoulder and his side throbbed. While the pain was intense, only the shot in his side had actually gone through. It would need attention, but he still had a chance. Either way, he needed to fight fast and regain the element of stealth.