"Can't tell. They always march in step. Keep quiet." Morgan gripped the hatchet and set himself for a quick spring. As they drew nearer, he decided that there were two of them. Their movements were perfectly coordinated, since they were of one mind, one consciousness--that of Oren. The girl tapped his arm with the blade of a knife. "I'll take one," she breathed. When the footsteps were almost upon them, Oren halted. There was no outcry; the Orenians had no need for vocal communication; their thought-exchange was bio-electromagnetic. "Now!" howled Morgan, and launched himself at the enemy. His hatchet cleft the face of the nearest foe, and he turned instantly to help the girl. A pair of bodies thrashed about on the ground. Then she stood up, and he heard her dry the knife on some grass. It was over in an instant. "Not stung?" "No." "That was too easy," he said. "I don't like it." "Why?" "They don't ambush that easy unless they're in rapport with another group someplace close. We'll have some more of them after us if we don't get away." They hurried about the unpleasant task of splitting open the once-human skulls to remove the legless parasite-entities that filled the bony hollows where brains belonged. The Oren creatures lived in their stolen homes long after the borrowed body died, and they could signal others to the vicinity. Morgan tossed the globular little creatures in the ditch where they lay squeaking faintly--helpless, once-removed from the body of the host who had long since ceased to exist as a human being. "Let's go!" he grunted. "Same way?" "Yeah." "But they _came_ from that way!" "Have to chance it. Too dangerous, hanging around the highways. Out here we can find places to hide." They set off at a trot, chancing an ambush in reverse. But Morgan reasoned that the Orenians had been returning to the highway after a day's exploring on the side-roads. After plunging for half-an-hour through the darkness, the road began winding upward. The cypress archway parted, revealing star-scattered sky. They slowed to a walk. "Can't we sit down to rest?" she panted. "Can if you like. Alone." She shuddered and caught at his arm. "I'll stick." "Sorry," he murmured. "We can stop soon. But they'll be chasing along the road looking for us. I want to get into the spruce forest first." She was silent for a time, then said; "With Earlich, it was the other way around." "Earlich? The fat boy? What do you mean?" "I always had to wait on him." "Did you wait?" "Until he ran out of bullets."