Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) by Simon R. Green Read Free Book Online

had come back even stronger. Hunter scowled. He’d never felt this worried before, not even when he was heading into battle. Not even during the bad times; the times he’d panicked for no good reason. He swallowed hard. He felt light-headed and his hands were shaking. He could feel the beginnings of panic stirring within him.
    Not now. Please, not now!
    He fought the panic fiercely, refusing to give in to it, and slowly it subsided again. Hunter breathed more easily, but he wasn’t fooled. He knew it would be back again, the moment he weakened. Hairs prickled on the back of his neck. The feeling of being watched was as strong as ever. Hunter kept wanting to stop and look around him, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to look jumpy in front of the others.
    He raised his hands to his mouth and blew on them. The morning was several hours old, but it was still barely above freezing. Hunter rubbed his hands together, wishing the Empire had included winter clothing in its list of essential supplies. The heating elements in his uniform could only do so much. Right now he’d have traded his disrupter for a good pair of thick gloves.
    The forest drew slowly closer, and Hunter studied it dispassionately. It looked as if they were nearly upon it, but distances were deceiving in the overbright light. They’d been approaching the forest boundary for the best part of an hour, but only now was it starting to give up its secrets. Hunter frowned. What little he could make out wasn’t exactly encouraging. The huge trees were packed close together and soared up into the sky. The wide trunks were iron-black, gnarled and whorled, and the foliage was a dark, bitter yellow. The leaves were all different shapes and sizes, and the twisted branches drooped down to the ground as often as not.
    The ground approaching the forest was cracked and broken, and clumps of spiky grass sprouted up from the crevices. The grass grew thicker and more abundant as the Squad finally drew near the forest boundary, some of it rising to almost two feet in places. Hunter called a halt so that Williams could take a close look at it. The doctor knelt down and studied a clump of grass carefully without touching it. The long spikes were wide and flat, pale violet in color, and marked with a curious ribbing, almost like bones.
    “Interesting,” said Williams. “The grass is purple but the leaves on the trees are yellow. Vegetation is usually all the same color, particularly when it’s growing under the same conditions.”
    “Maybe they draw their nourishment from different sources,” suggested Hunter.
    “Perhaps,” said Williams. “I’ll take a few specimens and run them through the computers later.”
    Hunter looked at the Investigator, who shrugged. “No objections, Captain. We’ve all had the standard immunization shots.”
    “All right,” said Hunter. “Take your time, Doctor. I’m sure we could all use a little rest.”
    “Certainly,” said Williams. He looked at Corbie. “Pull me up a handful of grass, young man, while I prepare a specimen bag to hold it.”
    Corbie shrugged, and knelt down beside the nearest clump of grass. He grabbed a handful, and then gasped and let go quickly.
    “What is it?” asked Krystel.
    Corbie opened his hand and stared at it. Long cuts marked his palm and the insides of his fingers. Blood welled from his hand and dripped onto the thirsty ground. He reached into his pocket with his free hand, pulled out a grimy handkerchief, and pressed it gingerly against the cuts, then straightened up and glared at Williams, more angry than hurt. “The edges of the grass are razor-sharp! I could have lost my fingers!”
    “Now, that is interesting,” said Krystel. Corbie looked at her. He said nothing, but his gaze spoke volumes.
    “All right,” said Hunter quickly. “Let that be a warning to all of us. From now on, keep your hands to yourselves and don’t touch anything until we’re sure it’s safe. And Corbie, use your