A couple of days ago I was hiking when some unknown entity struck me from behind and vanished.

The buzzing, stinging pain shot through the back of my knee as I pulled up my spandex yoga pant leg to try to figure out what happened. At first, I saw nothing. Then, the first drops of blood.

The Predator had finally found me after all these years.

Picture it, Palenque, 2005

I was vacationing in southern Mexico with a travel guide full of dog-eared pages. Of course, I’d be stopping at Palenque and San Cristobal de las Casas, but there were some side trips I had to make. The travel guide held a tale of something iconic – Misol-ha and Cascadas de Aqua Azul. The waterfalls where many years ago Arnold Schwarzenegger had battled The Predator. And, as I would come to find out, where the Predator still hunted.

The Cascadas de Agua Azul was more gorgeous than I had expected. I sat in a shallow pool feeling the tiny, smooth rocks between my fingers with the water moving all around me. The rush of the water mixed effortlessly with the sounds of people playing in the cascades.

But Misol-ha – was an altogether different beast. Something darker, something dirtier. Something more mysterious and out for blood. Here at Misol-ha it was quieter. There were no people frolicking in the water. The waterfall itself was bigger and more menacing than at Agua Azul. The pool of water at the base of the waterfall was unnaturally calm.

At the time, I didn’t notice any of these things. I was too wrapped up imagining Arnold Schwarzenegger jumping over the waterfall and covering himself in mud to avoid The Predator’s detection. I wanted to get a closer look so I followed the rocks. Working my way deeper into the waterfall’s path across the mossy stones and suddenly I fell. My foot was seemingly pulled into the water as my knee cracked upon the rocks.

I stood up quickly thinking I had escaped from the Predator’s grasp in time. For a moment, I thought I was in the clear. My knee seemed fine. But it was already too late. When I looked down again, a red stream poured from my knee and into the waterfall.

Misol-ha and the Predator had tasted my blood.

Blood streaming into my sock, I scampered back the way I had come as quickly as possible. I had nothing useful with me and, let’s be honest, no useful skills for defeating the Predator. Jumping into the car, I peeled away hearing a low growl just underneath the screech of the tires. The Predator did not make chase, clearly recognizing that I wouldn’t be much of a prize.

All this time I had thought the Predator had forgotten about me, but he had been patient. Waiting for me to re-enter alone the subtropical territories he thrives in.

But once again, I would escape. Because this time the Predator was on my turf and I came prepared.

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