He lay flat on the ground. They knew where he was and they did not like it. They had fired on him. He did not know whether the thing that killed the bird had missed him, or whether it had hit him too and his incredible immunity had protected him. Perhaps they had already fired on him with the other gun, the one from the satellite. He did not know that either. But in front of him lay the dead bird.
And now, if he tripped another electronic eye, they would probably come out in person.
All for the best. He peered intently through the trees up the hill, searching for some sign of buildings. If he could get to the edge of a clearing, could see, he would stand a better chance. But there was nothing but bushes, the bare brown shafts of trees. Now that they knew where he was, he was deeply thankful that he'd had the sense to bring the gun.
He moved forward on his hands and knees, watching, listening, praying that he didn't trip another eye.
The bushes crackled around him. The wind, dammit.
He stopped and listened, heard his heart beating in his throat. He decided he could crawl just as well with one hand, so he took out the gun. It was at that moment that he saw the first Faktor.
An instant silhouette through the trees ahead, moving silently toward him. They were coming.
He dropped to his stomach, crawled with a cold silent slide into the nearest bush clump. Although they probably knew to the foot where he was, he had to lie still.
In a brief, brutal flash of reproach and disgust, he realized what an idiot he'd been to come out here alone.