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Support Your Local Monster Hunter Page 2

by Dennis Liggio


  "Saying just a dog is like saying a troll is just a bear, kid. There's some similarities, but mistake one for the other at your own peril. You'll see."

  Paulie setup the rifle on the ridge looking down on the ravine. He peered through the scope to confirm he had found the range. He handed me a pair of binoculars. I looked through them down into the ravine.

  "It's pretty," I said, "but what am I looking for?"

  "A white-tailed deer carcass," said Paulie. "Ranger O'Neil set it out for us. Wouldn't let me drag my own corpse across the park and she wanted to make sure she culled something she didn't care about the population of."

  I scanned the ravine floor and found it. "Yup, that's a dead deer. So what?"

  "It's bait, kid. Stop being willfully stupid. The dead deer is bait."

  "So what, we wait and watch for the hellhound now?"

  "You wait and watch, I'm taking a nap," said Paulie, laying down and pulling his cap over his head. "Wake me up around dusk."

  And then he followed through on his threat and actually went to sleep. Seriously, he snored at one point, while I was left to stare through the binoculars until the sun went down. I checked the ravine every few minutes, but spending too long looking through the binoculars made my eyes hurt. I sulked on just what I was "learning" on this trip. I wanted to be out bludgeoning zombies, not holding binoculars in some park while Paulie slept.

  The sun descended and the shadows grew longer. I began to wonder how well we'd be able to see the deer carcass if it got too dark. It was when it seemed like the dim dusk lighting was going to hide everything that I saw a dark form loping through the ravine. I had seen rabbits and squirrels while I waited waiting, but this was bigger and walked like a dog.

  It hesitantly walked near the carcass, wary, maybe even expecting a trap. I guess its instincts were good, even if it couldn't sense the trap we had set. It sniffed the air, searching for some sign of another predator. Then it padded softly to the carcass. I understood why the deer had been placed in that spot; it was one of the last places in the ravine where light still fell, so as the dog stepped to the carcass, the light revealed it. I nodded to myself. That must be the hellhound.

  I reached out my hand to shake Paulie awake, but before I could, he said, "I know." He rolled over and grabbed the rifle. He pushed the hat up on his head so he could peer through the scope.

  "How'd you know when to wake up?" I said.

  "Been up for a while, kid," he said. "Started paying attention when your breathing changed. Now let's see... Yup, that looks like our target."

  I looked through the binoculars at the beast. It was definitely a dog or a hound, but I was seeing the truth in Paulie's description of it. It was twice the size of any dog I had ever seen in person, its muscled haunches making it at least the size of a man, probably bigger. Without a doubt it weighed more than I did, not that I considered myself a mass of muscle honed in the gym. I had seen the dog walk heavily with its front paws, like a jock or a bulldog. Its posture was hunched, and across its back were dull short spines, almost like a lizard. Its fur was matted and twisted. But it was the teeth that really got me. The hellhound just had too many teeth. It was as if it had somehow collected the entire set of teeth from two other creatures. Sharp fangs fanned out from its mouth, both straight and at odd angles, as if someone had haphazardly stuffed the hound's mouth full of those pointy teeth. I didn't think there was any way the hellhound could have completely closed its jaw, and in all the moments I saw it where it wasn't eating, its mouth hung permanently open, drool in a continual hanging drip above the ground.

  Yep, that was a Mean Ass Fucking Dog. But I could see the reason why calling it something other than that would be useful. This was a monster, but in casual conversation, other people would think we were just killing dogs.

  I felt for the weight of my lead pipe in my jacket. Paulie hadn't given me any weapons for this, but I had taken the liberty of keeping myself armed. I had never fought one of these before, but I was ready to try. I could take that dog.

  "Okay, so what's the plan?" I said. "We head down there and -"

  My words were interrupted by the sound of Paulie's rifle firing. I quickly looked through the binoculars at the hellhound. Its head was torn in half by the shot, its body immediately slumping to the ground, lifeless and bloody.

  "Or you could do that," I said with disappointment.

  Paulie pulled his face back from the rifle and gave me a smirk. He sat up and started dismantling the rifle.

  "So now we head down there?" I said.

  "Nope, we're done," said Paulie.

  "That's it?"

  "That's it. Clean and done."

  "But what about the corpse?" I said. "Don't we need to clean that up?" Mikkel and I have had to clean up some of the mess of our kills when they were at places our clients lived. It's not a part of the job I like, but I realize it's necessary.

  "Out here? Nah. Nature will take care of that body. Something will eat it. The same way it was eating other stuff. Way of nature. Circle of life, kid."

  "Won't it... I don't know, infect other animals?"

  Paulie shrugged. "No idea. No evidence of any sort of disease or infection; as far as we know, it's just a monster. And it's also not my problem. Ranger O'Neil will be watching this area. She'll let me know if things go weird." He closed the case for his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. He turned on his flashlight. "Okay, let's go."

  "Really, that's it?" I persisted. "We drive a few hours out of town, lay in the dirt on top of rocks for a few more hours, all for just like a minute or two of actual work?"

  "Kid, this wasn't a minute or two of work. It was two weeks of research and planning. I had to figure out what it was, what it ate, the best kill spot, and getting it here. It was a bunch of work, it just wasn't field work. Field work is dangerous. The actual dangerous stuff should be minimal. Hunting is 95% preparation and 5% -"

  "Perspiration, got it," I said sullenly. I had heard this sort of talk before.

  "Fuck no! I'm not gonna sweat if I don't have to! 95% preparation and 5% action. And if you're good, you try to scale that 5% down as low as it goes. 1% action is best. Shit, I love it when that's all the action that's got to be done."

  "That sounds lazy," I said.

  Paulie shrugged. "You say lazy, I say smart. I say we let this conversation go for a decade then reconvene to talk about what seems best then."

  I said nothing, I just sighed heavily. I could see the way this was going and Paulie wasn't going to budge. And I had to admit I was riding along with him, so we were doing this his way. I did secretly think that Mikkel wanted Paulie to drive this point home, but I also think Paulie wouldn't care if Mikkel had or had not said something about teaching this fact. This was just how Paulie was.

  We got back into Paulie's truck and rode out of the park. Sundown had come and gone, leaving us in a dark September night.

  "Fuck, I'm hungry," said Paulie. "You want dinner? Let's get dinner."

  "I'm kinda low on cash," I said. "I was hoping to eat when we got back to town."

  "Well, I'm gonna get dinner," said Paulie. "You can either watch me eat or let me spot you the money. But we're stopping somewhere. I'm driving and home's a few hours away. Where you wanna eat, kid? We passed some places on the way up."

  He'd spot me the money, but knowing Paulie, he'd make sure I got the money to him. So I wanted to at least pick someplace where the money would be well spent. I thought back to what we had passed. Cobalt County was a back country full of hicks to me, having lived in New Avalon my whole life, but I'd concede that others probably just saw it as small towns along a well-travelled highway. We had passed some strip malls with restaurants near the highway's intersection with major roads.

  "I'm mostly open," I said. "Nothing too expensive or too fancy. Oh, and no Breastaurants."

  "Breastaurants? What the fuck are those?" said Paulie.

  "Y'know, places like Hooters, Twin Peaks, Bombshells... the resta
urants all named after some oblique reference to boobs. They're the places where they have the hot big breasted waitresses that are Not Strippers."

  "I wasn't planning on one," he said, "but what's so wrong about them that you want to exclude them up front?"

  "It's just that... well, I feel like by their nature they're trying to get people there based on the waitresses. Hooters, Twin Peaks - they're really trying to sell the breasts, not the food. And because they're doing that, it's my impression that the food isn't very good at those places."

  "You ever been to one?" said Paulie. "Meat loves them, and the food really isn't bad."

  I shrugged. "I guess it could be good. But I still feel like the prices are higher for what you're getting. Or else, why use Breast-focused advertising? The customer is paying for that somewhere, and I don't want to pay for that."

  "Are you just intimidated by ladies or something?"

  "No, it's not that," I said. "I even have a girlfriend now." I thought back to Yasmin. We were dating, but I couldn't remember if we were currently fighting. That was half of dating for us.

  "Oh, so it's her that doesn't want you at these places," he said.

  "No," I said. In fact, I don't think Yasmin and I had ever discussed these types of restaurants. It wasn't really something that came up among all our other controversial topics.

  Paulie shook his head. "Alright, we won't go to one of those. But how do you feel about barbecue?"

  We were halfway to the barbecue place Paulie knew of when I heard my phone ring. There are various people who I'd have been happy to talk to, such as Mikkel, Dickie, or even Yasmin. I pulled my phone out and looked at the unrecognized number from some area code I didn't recognize. I had a feeling who it was, and I shouldn't have answered it. But as I was a glutton for punishment, I answered.

  "Hello?"

  "Mr. Nowak, my name is Daniel from Waiting Arms Collections. I'd ask you how your evening is going, but we both know that's pointless. As you know, you still owe a large amount of money from your hospital stay. Where is it?"

  "I've been over this with you guys before, I don't have it," I answered. I saw Paulie cock his eyebrow at the conversation.

  "How much you got, then? We can setup payment plans - with interest, of course - so that you can get your debt to a manageable level while still paying it."

  "I mean I don't have it," I said. "Nothing. Nada. I have no job. I don't even have money for the payment plan. You're trying to... umm.. what's that expression? Get blood from a stone."

  "You don't understand, Mr. Nowak. We fucking want our money. We're not willing to put up with your shit talk. We know you have the money. Give us our fucking money!"

  "What the fuck? Fuck off! I already told you that I don't have the cash!"

  "Do we need to get the police involved? Or do I need to just call your employer to get your wages garnished?"

  "Did you not hear me?" I said in exasperation. "I don't have a job!"

  "Oh really, so you have no problem if we call Helping Hands Solutions and have a talk with them?"

  I actually paused and smiled at this thought. I had been fired from my job at Helping Hands last year due to not showing up to work when there was an evil corporation trying to kill me. If this collection agent called, they'd probably end up getting my old boss Frank. I hated Frank and he was a major asshole. I smiled at the thought of Frank and this collections agent yelling at each other.

  "I am completely fine with you calling Helping Hands," I said, trying to hide my enjoyment from my tone.

  "We're going to get this money from you, Mr. Nowak. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

  "Easy or hard, there's no way to get money I don't fucking have!"

  "Please don't curse at me, Mr. Nowak."

  "What? You cursed at me first!"

  "Mr. Nowak, I'm going to need you to stop cursing or I'm going to end the call."

  "What the hell? Fuck it, I'll end the call, because I never wanted to talk to you. Bye!" I hung up. Why I hadn't done so earlier in the conversation was beyond me.

  There was silence as I put my phone back in my pocket and Paulie drove. He finally broke the silence.

  "Debt collectors, huh?"

  "Yeah," I said, tired and still tense. "You got an extra five grand or so hanging around you wanna lend me?"

  Paulie laughed, and then there was a moment of silence. "You should get another phone."

  "And rack up more debt?" I said.

  "They're hassling you on this number, you should get another number and avoid them."

  "But you forget, they're relentless. They'll see that I cancelled this number and find the new one."

  "No," said Paulie. "You keep the first phone. They'll keep calling on that, because it's not cancelled."

  "So I get a second phone and keep paying for this one even though I never answer it? That seems a waste."

  "Well, you'll need to keep answering their calls - some of them at least."

  "What? Why?"

  "If you don't answer any of their calls at all, then they might also figure out you have another phone. You need to answer just enough of their calls they don't get suspicious."

  "But if I'm going to answer some of their calls, what's the point of a second phone?"

  "Freedom," he said. "A compartmentalized freedom. You deal with them a little bit on your old, 'decoy' phone. In return, you have another phone that's completely free of them you can use for anything."

  "That all seems overly complicated and even more money for basically the same thing as I have now," I said. "What I need to do is stop answering them. Maybe get a special ringtone for them."

  "Expect them to change the number they're calling from if you don't answer," said Paulie.

  "And then I will stop answering that... Ugh, this is like a bad game of Whack-A-Mole, but with failure being that someone yells at me for money I don't have."

  So, I guess you may have guessed, but I was in debt. Deep debt, at least for me. I still hadn't been able to pay the bill from my hospital stay after being attacked by Jabberwock Jack. I knew it was going to be bad at the time and I wanted to get out of the hospital ASAP, but the doctors wouldn't let me. I think they were trying to get the most money they could out of me - for those who don't know, hospitals are expensive. Really expensive. As you read, I had collections calling me asking for money I didn't have to pay for a hospital stay I didn't want. I'm glad I didn't die and appreciated their care, but saving my life should not incur lifelong debt, especially since most of the cost was the room, not the actual medical services.

  The odd jobs I was doing had been barely paying for my rent and food, so I hadn't been able to use a single dollar on hospital bills. It was only in September that the bill was handed over to collections and I had assholes calling me. And the assholes didn't understand the pointlessness of it. I didn't have a hidden pot of leprechaun gold I was hoarding - I hadn't paid the bill because I had no money to pay it. Cursing at me and threatening me just made me tense and made it harder to find a job.

  The New Avalon job market wasn't that great right unless you were in construction. And since I had gotten fired from my last job for not showing up, there was less of a reason for employers to take a risk on me. I could do their damn jobs, but as soon as they checked my references, I got the "Your skill set just doesn't match what we're looking for right now" response. Which as far as I've discovered is Human Resource Speak for "It's not you, it's me (but it's really you)."

  So this was where I hit on my latest great idea. It came to me in a sudden revelation. Like a moment of clarity after a long night drinking - except this actually was during a long night drinking. Dickie and I were closing out Twin Eagles, the last two regulars before Maybell told us to get our asses out of her bar. I realized that Mikkel and I had been looking at the whole monster hunting thing wrong. If you consider it a hobby, then it will be like a hobby - something you do on the side and that drains your money. It becomes something you work at a
job so that you can do. And so it's a time and money sink. If you consider it our calling, a thankless job we do because we have to - then guess what, don't be surprised it ends up a job you have to do that nobody thanks you for. And this was where I hit on the right view. We needed to consider our monster hunting as a service. We should be a nonprofit that benefits our community. And as such, we should be able to take donations and grants to continue what we were doing.

  And that brought me to the final destination of my brilliant idea. We needed a funding campaign! You see them a lot these days - "I have this marvelous new product, and I need backers to help bring it to market!" "I'm starting this new company and I will give privileges for donations!" or "I have this new game/cd/board game/movie that I want to produce, but I want people to help with the startup costs - I'll give you a copy once it's all done if you give me X amount of money!" This was what I figured - if people are willing to pay to get some random person's album produced, why wouldn't they be willing to pay for the expenses of someone killing monsters so their town would be safe?

  Dickie thought this was a great idea, but Mikkel was not so enthusiastic. His first impression was that it was a bad idea, his second was to tell me why. He said that first off, people didn't believe monsters existed or that we hunted them, so why would they donate to something they saw as a joke? That was indeed a hurdle, but one we faced all the time, so I wasn't going to let that stop me. Some people did believe, so we had them as an audience. His second naysaying was that when people back a campaign for a product, they get something for it. Either the product or something personalized from the campaign - behind the scenes videos, signed artwork, etc. It's less a donation or altruistic investing and more that they're sort of preordering the final product or getting bonuses.

  That was a fair point, but I was not going to be daunted. It was simply a problem needing a solution, rather than some insurmountable obstacle. And I had a great idea. I scraped together some money and got one of those popular mini video cameras I told you about. People who like extreme sports love these things, because afterward they upload the footage to the internet so you can see the dangerous stuff they do and, in some cases, see them wipe out in spectacularly horrible fashion. I realized that would be perfect for monster hunting! People could see what we do, how dangerous it was, and even that monsters exist! Those were all huge pluses. But more than that, it matched my purposes, since it was something I could offer to backers of my campaign. For different monetary amounts, they could see videos of us (me) in action! Up close and personal monster hunting! Who wouldn't want that?

 

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