Table Of Content"The Ancients were taught that their
Gods would return every hundred years,
and they would expect a sacrifice."
Sebastian showed Lex a large-scale mural depict-
ing the Great Serpent and the Gods clashing in mor-
tal combat. "Like gladiators in a coliseum those two
alien races would battle," he explained. "Only the
strongest survived. And the survivors would be the
ones deemed worthy to return to the stars, to return
home."
"What if they lost?"
Sebastian showed Lex three images in a se-
quence, a grim, doomsday triptych. The first was an
image of a great pyramid, three stylized Predators
standing on the pinnacle, a horde of Great Serpents
slithering up the sides. The next image showed the
Predators, arms raised, with wavy lines radiating
from their wrists.
The third image was hauntingly familiar. It showed
an explosion—a green-tinted blast with a mushroom
cloud hanging over it, an explosion that destroyed
everyone and everything in its path.
"If the Gods were defeated, then a terrible disas-
ter would overtake the land, and their civilization
would vanish overnight... Total genocide ... An
entire civilization wiped out at once."
Lex went numb. "Then these creatures have been
here before," she said.
"Undeniably," Sebastian replied. "Thousands of
years ago, and many times since—perhaps even re-
cently."
NOVELIZATION BY
MARC CERASINI
BASED ON THE MOTION PICTURE
SCREENPLAY BY
PAUL W.S. ANDERSON
AND SHANE SALERNO
STORY BY
PAUL W.S. ANDERSON
BASED ON THE "ALIEN" CHARACTERS CREATED BY
DAN O'BANNON AND RON SHUSETT
AND THE "PREDATOR" CHARACTERS CREATED BY
JOHN THOMAS
AND JAMES THOMAS
HarperEntertainment
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HARPERENTERTAINMENT
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Copyright © 2004 by Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All
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ISBN: 0-06-073537-6
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First HarperEntertainment paperback printing: July 2004
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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 21
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware
that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and
destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the pub-
lisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
To Hope Innelli for being the perfect, patient editor.
To my agent, John Talbot, for being so cool.
Most especially to my wife, Alice,
who endured the rigors of Antarctica
and the terror of alien invasion with poise and class.
PROLOGUE
Northern Cambodia, 2000 B.C.
The first columns of sunlight stabbed through the
canopy of tangled branches. Birds took flight,
cawing a greeting to the dawn, their scarlet wings
staining the pale sky as they skimmed the hard gray
angles of a massive stone pyramid. Nearby, the air
quaked with the incessant rumble of the river as it
pulsed over a serrated cliff then broke on the ragged
rocks far below.
Along the jungle floor, where thick vegetation
muted the waterfall's roar, a wet snout parted a knot of
vines and branches. Leaves stirred, sending a rustling
hiss down an overgrown trail. The wild pig sniffed,
then listened. With a satisfied grunt, it penetrated the
underbrush and burst into the clearing.
Short tail swishing, the pig trotted onto a carpet of
moss near a grove of ancient trees. Aggressively it
snuffled the damp, fetid ground. At the twisted base of
a mammoth trunk, its body stilled. Then its spotted
hide quivered with excitement, and its front paws dug
into the soft, black soil, spilling chunks of fungus and
2 AVP: Alien vs. Predator
a knot of squirming worms onto the green moss. Fi-
nally, with loud snorting gulps, the animal began con-
suming its prey.
Behind the gorging pig, leaves parted again, this
time without a sound. A pair of mud-brown eyes
peered through the opening in the tight branches, fo-
cusing on the wild pig's twitching hide. Funan the
Hunter lifted his paint-streaked face to the sky. Like
the pig had before him, he sniffed the air and listened.
Monkeys chattered on high and a single bird cried
out, but not in alarm. In the lower branches tree apes
leaped and chattered, sending twigs and foliage raining
down on the jungle floor. Closer to the cool, moist
earth, insects crawled, squirmed, cackled and buzzed
through the curling fingers of mist.
Funan smiled. He and his hunt mates had patiently
stalked their prey. The time for the kill was almost
upon them. But not yet. Only when Funan was satisfied
that all conditions were right would he signal his men
with his sun-bronzed hand.
Slipping like shadows out of the underbrush, twin
brothers Fan Shih and Pol Shih moved to either side of
Funan. Like their chief, they clutched wooden spears
tipped with chipped obsidian. Camouflaged for the
hunt, their faces, torsos and chests were darkened by
ash and slashed with brown and green mud. Leafy
vines encircled their arms and legs and crowned their
heads.
Adorning their hips, untreated leather thongs dis-
played trophies of previous hunts—skulls, bones, rows
of sharp teeth and curved fangs belonging to a dozen
species. Dangling from cords around their necks were
AVP: Alien vs. Predator 3
bits of fur, feather and quartz, magical charms meant
to ensure a successful hunt.
As a breeze moved over him, Funan stroked a dried
monkey's tail hanging at his throat and sniffed the air
once more. He could smell the pig, the vegetation,
and the river in the distance—but nothing else. Yet
tension preyed upon his nerves, and his men seemed
on edge, too.
Never before had they hunted this close to the sacred
temple. Although the jungle around the stone pyramid
teemed with wildlife, hunters always shunned this for-
bidden place. Only during the time of sacrifice, when
the local tribes offered up their young men and women
to the gods, would the people enter these grounds.
Funan knew he was reckless to hunt near a site
deemed so sacred. The hunt should really end now, but
he decided otherwise, signaling the last member of
their group.
A giant of a man called Jawa moved forward in a
crouch, then ducked behind a lump of ropy vines. He
clutched a long spear that seemed tiny in his immense
hand, and a stout club hung from the leather thong at
his hip. Like the others, Jawa was camouflaged with
mud and vegetation, and from his belt hung bear's
teeth and a piece of bone from a large jungle cat. His
powerful chest still bore the angry scars from the cat's
savage combat.
Unseen at Jawa's feet, another hunt had reached its
lethal climax. A ruddy, gray-green lizard and a horned,
black beetle were locked in a death struggle on the jun-
gle floor, oblivious to the giant in whose shadow they
warred. When Funan made a chopping motion with his
4 AVP: Alien vs. Predator
left hand, Jawa stepped out of his hiding place, crush-
ing both lizard and beetle under his brown, callous
foot.
Slipping through the brush, Jawa moved to his posi-
tion, flanking the pig. He cackled once, imitating the
call of the red-and-green bird that inhabited this re-
gion. From their own hiding places, Funan and the two
Shih brothers rose, spidery mist hugging their legs as
they moved.
Funan took the lead. Soon he would be near enough
to strike a fatal blow with the first throw—or be
gouged by the creature's tusks should he miss. In a
flashing spasm, his muscles quivered, his heart raced.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the tension evaporated
and a cold calm washed over him.
Lifting his spear, Funan was about to take aim when
something went wrong. The pig's snout, black with
dirt, jerked high to sniff the air. Ears twitching, the pig
snorted nervously.
Funan did not dare breathe. Behind him, Fan and Pol
Shih paused in mid-stride. As a fly buzzed around his
head, Funan drew back his weapon. But before he
could strike, the startled pig ducked under a log, then
vanished in the bush. The echo of the pig's crashing re-
treat lingered for a moment, then faded.
Funan looked at Jawa in bewilderment. They had
done everything right—yet somehow they had spooked
their prey. Behind their chief, Fan and Pol lowered
their weapons, perplexed.
Then, abruptly, all sound in the jungle ceased. Every
bird, every insect seemed to fall silent. Only the distant
pounding of the falling river water penetrated the thick
AVP: Alien vs. Predator 5
vegetation. In the quiet echo of the thundering pulse,
Funan warily scanned the clearing but saw nothing.
Fan and Pol Shih also raised their spears, poised to at-
tack. But attack what?
With a loud crack, a black, whiplike appendage shot
out from the underbrush and encircled Fan Shih's legs.
Without even a cry of alarm, the hunter was dragged
into the bushes, quivering leaves the only sign of his
violent passage.
Pol Shih raised his spear, ready to avenge his
brother. But suddenly the spear was torn from the
man's hand. Kicking helplessly, he, too, was hauled
across the clearing and into the bush. Only after Pol
vanished from sight did he scream—once, twice, three
times, the last a sustained howl of agony.
Pol's terror-filled shriek broke the courage of the
others. Jawa bolted into the undergrowth, followed a
moment later by Funan.
Like the pig before him, Jawa fled blindly through
the trees, ignoring the trail to trample through the jun-
gle. Vines caught his arms, and he dropped his spear to
move faster, fright driving him on.
Finally out of breath, Jawa stumbled into a clearing
domed by interlocking vines. He braced his heaving
form against a tree trunk. Panting, legs wide, Jawa lis-
tened in the heavy shade for the sound of pursuit. Be-
hind him, he heard Funan's whipping movements
through the jungle, but nothing else.
The black, formless shadow dropped out of the tree
with no warning. Landing in a crouch, the large,
insectlike beast unfolded itself and faced Jawa. A dog-
like whimper escaped the warrior as he took a step
6 AVP: Alien vs. Predator
backwards. He fumbled for the stout wood-and-stone
club that dangled from his rawhide belt. But there was
no time to fight, only to die. The final imprinting on
Jawa's senses were sharp teeth and gnashing jaws, hot
drool and red blood.
Seconds later, Funan stumbled into the same shaded
clearing—in time to see Jawa hauled helplessly into
the vines above. A scarlet rain sprinkled the ground,
and warm drops splashed Funan. The chief hunter, his
fist still choking the neck of his spear, searched the
branches above for any sign of Jawa.
But the man was gone.
Spear raised, Funan scanned his surroundings. He
stood in a cove of ancient, thick-boled trees, the largest
covered with shiny black bark. Struggling for calm,
Funan halted his anxious wheezing to listen for his en-
emy's approach. Only then did Funan hear a wet, rip-
ping sound from behind. He spun, his spear thrusting
forward.
With mounting horror, Funan watched the dark, oily
bark begin to move, peeling itself away from the trunk.
With a fleshy, popping sound the shapeless mass
sprouted limbs. Then an oblong head emerged, the ap-
pendage covered with glistening, near-translucent
skin. A bony, segmented tail unwound itself from a
heavy branch, and with a wet thump, the writhing ob-
scenity dropped to the ground.
The creature, chattering like some terrible giant in-
sect, rose to its full, immense height and shambled to-
ward the cowering hunter. Gnashing jaws parted to
extend a long, veined mandible tipped with yet another
snapping, drooling orifice.
