In this job, when things get weird you just have to roll with it, so I hurried up the ramp toward daylight.
* * *
Once I was free of the smoking federal building, I called in and they sent Hertzfeldt to pick me up with the van. The crew hadn’t had any luck catching the shapeshifter. I found out that when Trip had heard my gunshots he had rushed back to help me, but the Feds were already there, so he’d gone after the shapeshifter again. The delay had cost him, so the thief was long gone. Without the big red backpack to spot, Milo and Skippy had come up with zilch. Earl had caught up with Trip and used his werewolf senses to follow her scent for a few more blocks, but lost her in another garage, where she’d either had a backup vehicle stashed, or had hot-wired herself a new ride.
The other Hunters had converged at the Atlanta team’s HQ, which was in a nondescript warehouse not too far from the airport. The team room had been the upstairs office, which they’d made into something like a comfy living room, with lots of couches and a ping-pong table. When Hertzfeldt and I walked in, most of the Hunters were sitting around, sullenly trying to figure out their next move. Boone was up front, standing before a great big map of the city, handing out assignments of where we should check next.
Earl wasn’t there. From my Alabama team, Trip Jones, Holly Newcastle, and Milo Anderson were there. Skippy, of course, who was uncomfortable around humans, was off doing Skippy things. The rest of Boone’s team consisted of James Mundy, who’d been an African bush pilot; and a married couple, the Groffs, both of whom had been Marines; their doc, Kathy Sherlock; and of course Gregorius, the crusty old SF vet, whom I’d known since Natchy Bottom. Hertzfeldt was the only Newbie, so it was an experienced crew.
There was a brief laugh at my stupid MCB shirt, but then it got pretty glum again, and then it went back to sulking and drinking all of Boone’s beer. Hunters hate losing. Anybody who was okay with losing would make a terrible Hunter. One tiny girl had made our group of badasses look like a bunch of chumps. There hadn’t been any reptoids to tail back to their hidey-hole, so even though the city was down two of the carnivorous bastards, there were probably a dozen more in their tribe still out there eating hobos. Then I got to make everything worse by telling the others about how the MCB had managed to let the biggest scumbag in the world escape.
After I gave everybody the quick recap of everything I’d witnessed, Gregorius summed up what all of us were feeling by saying, “Those damned idiots. They should have put a bullet in Stricken the second they confirmed it was him.”
The rest of the Hunters all nodded along at that. “I’m kicking myself for not putting a sniper on a roof across the street,” Boone muttered. “We could have just popped Stricken and done the world a favor.”
“We can’t just go around assassinating human beings in the streets,” Trip said. “Even Stricken.”
“Eh . . . Can’t we though?” As usual, Holly was the most morally flexible of us all. She had a heart of gold for those who deserved it, and zero mercy for those who didn’t.
“Franks really wanted to kill Stricken,” I explained. “But there was this weird dude there from the government who wouldn’t let him. MCB and STFU were both deferential to him. Name of Coslow.”
“What?” Boone nearly choked on his beer. “Harold P. Coslow?”
“I didn’t catch his middle name, but probably. Stricken called him Harold.”
Boone was downright flabbergasted. “He’s still alive?”
“He looks like he’s a hundred and I didn’t take his pulse, but yeah. Director Cueto said he was the PUFF adjuster, but the other adjusters I’ve dealt with have just been regular government employees. This Coslow guy was weird.” I didn’t like how Boone seemed a little unnerved by that name. Boone was old-school MHI and didn’t shake easy. I looked over at Milo, who’d been around longer than the rest of us; not that Milo was that old, it was just he’d been with MHI since he was a teenager. I was surprised to see that Milo had gotten really pale all of a sudden. And since Milo’s a freckly redhead anyway, that meant he’d gone downright ghostly on us. “What?”
“You didn’t make the Adjuster angry at you? Did you, Z? Because that would be, like, superbad.”
“Of course not. I don’t think so. Why would you say that?”
“Well, you’ve kinda got this way of antagonizing people—”
“No. Not me.” I already knew I was an abrasive dick who had problems with authority. “I mean why is everybody scared of this Coslow guy? Stricken offered to tell me, but he probably would’ve just lied anyway. What is Coslow?”
Milo shrugged. “Beats me. But he’s been around a long time.”
“Hell if I know either,” Boone said. “I was a Newbie last time MHI dealt with him. He was the ultimate authority setting bounties on anything unique we caught back in those days, but beyond that, there are some stories about him that are downright unnerving. I don’t think anyone has seen Coslow in decades.”
“I figured he was dead or retired.” Milo seemed to find all this rather exciting. “But in the old days, the rumor was he only showed up on cases where things could get really catastrophic, like some kinda herald of doom. Sam Haven once told me that he thought Coslow was actually a mummy who could suck your soul out through your eye sockets—”
“Then government work sounds like a great fit for him,” Holly interrupted. “Sorry to ruin the speculation, but we need to get back to catching this shape-changing bitch.” Holly was pragmatic like that.
“Yeah, any luck identifying her?” I asked.
“She’s not anyone that’s come up on our radar before,” Boone said. “But if she’s from around here, or especially a new creature in town, she must have come to someone’s or something’s attention. I was just handing out assignments. We’re going to split up and shake every tree around Atlanta to see what falls out.”
“Peaches, probably,” Milo said helpfully.
Boone sighed. “Somebody has to know who this shapeshifter is. Groffs, you’ve got the gnomes.”
“Aw, come on,” the male Groff groaned. His beard rivaled Milo’s, to the point that he looked like an old-timey sea captain. “Not the gnomes. Those little bastards are the worst. Why us?”
“Because Shannon is the shortest one here,” Boone pointed at the wife of the pair. “And gnomes distrust tall people.”
She was just barely over five feet, so she shrugged. “That’s fair. The gnomes will all be busy pickpocketing and generally screwing around with all the Dragon Con people anyway. We’ll take Jones with us. He seems to know his way around that world.”
“I’ll grab my costume,” Trip said, because of course he had packed one, just in case. “I’ve got this really great Captain America . . . You know, because the cops might have my picture from earlier.”
“Sure,” Boone said, obviously not buying that.
“The mask covers the top half of my face,” Trip said.
“Uh-huh. Milo, you still speak gnoll?”
“I only learned a few phrases so I’m not exactly fluent, but I can probably squeak by.”
“Gregorius, take Milo to the dump and visit the gnolls.”
The big man just frowned, then he sighed, because, frankly, gnolls were gross. “Come on, Hertzfeldt. You’re with us.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the Newbie, I’m too old to crawl through garbage looking for gnolls, and Milo is our guest. Bring your gas mask and rubber boots. Trust me on this one.” Gregorius headed for the door, along the way saying to the new guy, “Are you up on your tetanus shots?”
“Mundy and Sherlock, check all the regular sources around town.” The two of them nodded because every town had its oddball places where monsters and the monster-adjacent types hung out. “I’ll take Newcastle and we’ll see if the APD has had any unsolved crimes that might be explained by a perp who can change faces on the fly. Let’s go.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“Somebody needs to
wait for Earl. When he found out his girlfriend was in town and working this case, he wanted to go talk to her about it.”
“I’m glad I’m not there for that conversation.”
“Me too. Earl will need a debrief about what the Feds are up to anyway. In the meantime, call headquarters and see if they’ve ever heard of this Drekavac thing Stricken warned you about. Then get cleaned up. You look ridiculous.” Boone just shook his head as he walked toward the stairs. “Bringing MCB swag into my house? That’s downright disrespectful. Why don’t you just take a dump on my carpet while you’re at it?”
“Seriously, man,” Trip said as he left. “That look is a huge step down from Cookie Monster.”
“Okay, I get it already! I’ll burn the stupid MCB shirt. It’s not like I bought it in their gift shop!”
* * *
While I took a shower, I inspected the cuts Coslow had fixed. I wouldn’t call them healed so much as brutally cauterized, and they still hurt like the dickens. Plus from the way my back felt and all the bruises, I don’t think Coslow’s trick did much to help the part where the reptoid had bounced me off the wall. I probably should have had Sherlock check out the new burn scars, but she’d been a regular doctor so this magical crap was probably outside of her wheelhouse anyway. I’d ask Gretchen to take a look when I got home.
As I was drying off, I got a video call from my wife. Whenever one of us was on the job and the other was stuck at home, we always made the time to check in. I put a towel around my waist because she was probably still at the office, and the last thing I wanted was Dorcas looking over her shoulder.
“Hey, hon.” Julie was just as gorgeous as ever. Her long dark hair was currently tied up, meaning that she’d probably been sneaking in some range time. Seeing her always brightened my day. From the pictures on the wall behind her, she was in her office at the compound, so I’d made the right call with the towel. She laughed when she saw how I was dressed. “Did I interrupt your spa time?”
“In my copious free time I figured I’d get a massage. Dealing with the MCB really puts a lot of tension in my shoulders.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds plausible. I already got the quick version from Boone earlier. Are you actually okay, or just doing the tough guy thing where you can’t show weakness in front of other Hunters like usual?”
“I’m actually okay. It was one little fight with a lizard man. It never even had a chance.”
“Sure.” Julie was obviously unconvinced, but she’d been doing this sort of thing a lot longer than I had and was no stranger to all the myriad ways Hunters could get hurt. “How are Grant and Franks?”
“Unlike last time we saw him, Franks has all his limbs attached. Grant’s Grant, so far too handsome yet still bafflingly annoying.”
“Be nice. He tried to help me out for the Europe thing.”
“I know. That’s why I was nice.”
“Really?” Julie was right to be incredulous.
“I was polite and helpful. We even made small talk.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Julie said sarcastically. “That must have been hard.”
“I’d rather fist-fight another reptoid. The Feds are on the warpath though.”
“I heard about Stricken escaping. I’m sorry.”
“Well, maybe next time we’ll get lucky and they’ll forget to confiscate my guns first.”
Julie got it. If all the people who wanted to take Stricken out had to take a number, she’d be further down the list than Franks, Earl, or Heather, but she’d still happily take the shot if given the opportunity. And my wife is an extremely good shot. “I know you need to get back out there, but I’ve got somebody here who wants to say hi.” Julie turned her camera downward to show that my son was crawling up her leg to get onto her lap.
Ray was a happy, chunky, energetic toddler now. His round face lit up when he saw me. “Daddy!”
“Hey, big guy.” It didn’t matter that I’d just gotten my mission derailed and my ass kicked. You always put on a smile for your kid. That’s what dads do.
He started to babble about his day, and I was happy to listen. It was something about Legos.
After Julie had rescued our son, the three of us had gone into hiding for a while. I had needed to recuperate from the Nightmare Realm, and Julie had been a wreck from what she’d gone through getting Ray back. Since Asag had already demonstrated he would go after our families, we’d used fake identities and stayed as far away from the business as we could. It had been a peaceful vacation, but monster hunting was in our blood. And after a few months we’d both gotten incredibly bored and antsy. Since the chaos god we had a beef with had been remarkably silent since Severny Island had gotten nuked, and we couldn’t just sit on our asses hiding forever, we’d gone back to our regular lives. It was hard having that kind of a danger constantly hanging over you like a big angry storm cloud, but we’d adjusted as much as possible.
That looming threat was a good reminder that I needed to get back to work. “Be good for Mom. I’ll be home soon. I love you guys.”
“Love you too,” Julie said. “Be safe.”
Clean and in a fresh change of clothes—thankfully without any MCB two-headed eagles on them—I went back to the team room and found that Earl had just gotten back. He looked grumpy, cigarette dangling from one lip, sitting on Boone’s desk with Trip’s fancy camera in hand, mashing buttons.
“How do you make it so you can see pictures on the screen of this damned thing?”
“Give me that.” I took the camera from him. “You Luddite.”
“Considering I was in my twenties when they invented the television, I think I keep up with technology pretty damn good, kid.”
“Says the guy who still uses a Tommy gun.” Except after saying that it still took me a minute to figure out which knobs brought up which menus. While I played with the camera, Earl angry-smoked. I swear, if the monsters didn’t kill me, the perpetual secondhand lung cancer cloud from my boss would. “Here. Just push the arrows to see the next one or go back.”
He took the camera and began flipping through the pictures Trip had taken during our stakeout.
“Any luck finding Heather?”
“Yep.” He didn’t look up from the screen. “We spoke.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“Okay then.” I flopped onto the couch and waited, because I knew him well enough that he was going to vent about his girlfriend anyway. What can I say? I’m a good listener.
“It pisses me off, Z,” Earl said as he continued to click. “She’s too stubborn to quit Unicorn even though that job keeps trying to kill her. It’s because Heather looks at those monsters like they’re her kids. She’s protective. That whole outfit would probably fall apart if it wasn’t for her.”
Gee whiz, that sounded familiar. Change monster to Hunter, and it was basically Earl’s life story. But I didn’t say anything.
“I get that Unicorn can be a force for good. Hell, when I was stuck there, we saved a lot of lives. We did the nasty things regular soldiers couldn’t. Which makes it worse, because I know the exact kind of shit she gets involved in. It’s hard having your woman disappear for months at a time, because you know she’s probably in some third world country killing terrorists because they decided they wanted to summon demons or open a portal or some other evil nonsense. She keeps saying she’s going to be done, but then it’s one more mission, one more thing where they’re counting on her to save the day.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“Fair . . . But you know what really grinds my gears this time, Z?”
“She got called up because they had a shot at taking down Stricken, but she kept that secret from you?”
He looked up from the camera and squinted at me. “Good guess.”
I shrugged. Though I preferred door-kicking and face-shooting, I wasn’t a total lummox when it came to this complicated interpersonal crap. “Did you tell Heather tha
t MHI had a line on an actual Ward Stone?”
“Obviously not.”
“Well, there you go. She can’t tell you her top-secret government business, and you can’t tell her MHI business whenever it’s something where the government would screw us if they knew what we were doing. You don’t want to put her in a tough spot. She does the same for you. You respect her, so you’ve got to trust her. She took an oath. She’s not going to break it.”
“Of course not.”
“Then you two really need to work this shit out.”
“We will.” Earl sounded surprisingly certain.
“Good, because it’s inconvenient for the rest of us.” I didn’t add that preferably their solution would mean Heather quitting Unicorn and coming on with us full time, because having another bullet resistant and nonpsychotic werewolf around would really kick ass, but I’m selfish like that. “You want my advice?”
“Not particularly.” It was obvious Earl preferred talking about the pertinent business stuff rather than the messy personal stuff. “Enough about Heather. Let’s get back to work.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all day.” I didn’t need to push my luck with the life coaching. It wasn’t like I was good at this either. I’d had one successful relationship in my life and had been pretty much been winging that the whole time.
“We don’t know what kind of creature we’re looking for so we’re just guessing where to look. Problem for us right now is that the MCB really wants that Ward, and so will every powerful monster or whacko cult or wannabe necromancer once word gets out there’s one up for grabs. Not to mention the reptoids have a shaman with magic that actually works, so they’ll be looking for it too.”
“If Stricken’s to be believed, since the Dark Market auction contract has been violated, something called a Drekavac will be after her too.” That name had been a new one on me, but I’d sent a message to Lee to check the archives to see if we had any records on what those were. He hadn’t come up with much yet. “The name means screamer or shrieker, but not like a banshee. More like how an animal howls on the hunt. Folklore pegs it as some kind of cursed undead.”
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