Predator wire trap

  Schaefer was relentless in pursuit, obsessed with ending the killer’s rampage. He was working his way through a narrow passageway in a grove of rubber trees when he almost walked into a vast spider web that measured four feet across, blocking the path. Instinctively he moved to sweep it aside with his machete when he noticed an odd quality about the way it caught the moon’s dim light. Examining more closely he saw that the network of membranes wasn’t the silken threads of an insect at all, but hair-fine wire—a trap.

  He jumped back at the realization, then picked up a hefty branch, hurled it into the center of the trap, and watched the mechanism spring into action. There was a metallic snap followed by a high-pitched whine as the wood impacted on metal. The branch, five inches around, was violently torn apart, and pieces of wood flew in opposite directions, whipping into the jungle.

  Schaefer wiped his brow with relief, then pushed ahead, stepping gingerly over the coils of wire lying inert on the ground. He didn’t even stop to wonder if this was part of the guerrillas’ or the alien’s arsenal. The death snares were so all-encompassing now that they seemed to be set by the violent earth itself.

   The Predator (1987 novelization), chapter 16