Monster Hunter Bloodlines

by Larry Correia

  “In the spirit of cooperation, everybody can hold onto their guns, but let’s keep it polite. I didn’t bring you here to be prisoners, but rather partners. Besides, my Portuguese is kind of rough when it comes to giving instructions and I don’t want all these jumpy paramilitary types I hired to get the wrong message.”

  I looked to the nearest soldier, who had an FAL pointed at my heart, and said in Portuguese, Whatever this asshole is paying you, I’ll double it. My Portuguese was archaic crap gleaned from a dead conquistador, and more recently beefed up with some Duo Lingo lessons, but I was pretty sure he got the message. He looked to Stricken.

  And of course, Stricken was lying about his language skills, because his accent was so good he probably sounded like a native Brazilian when he told them, “Nao preste atencao a este doido. Ele fale mentiras e pobre demais,” which I was pretty sure translated to: Don’t listen to this idiot. He lies and is poor. Then Stricken looked at me. “We done?”

  “We’re done.” I had nothing but loathing for the man, and the only reason I hadn’t shot him myself was all his goons, but . . . Gutterres’ memories had confirmed that the situation was dire, and all of Coslow’s mystic pronouncements had encouraged me to get involved. I walked over to Sonya and offered her a hand to help her up. She didn’t need it. I was just trying to keep my friends close. Not that friend wasn’t a questionable term in this case.

  “Hey, what about me?” Sonya said to Stricken. “You said you could get this rock out of me? Let’s get to getting.”

  Stricken chuckled. “I should clarify. I know someone who can. But don’t worry, we’re going to meet with them shortly. You’ll just have to wait until then.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Sonya said. “You promised.”

  “No. I made an offer, and then moved you to a different hemisphere in order to save your life even after you robbed me. Don’t mistake my recent benevolence for patience, because you’re the least necessary member of my new team, rookie. So we’ll get around to fixing your problem in due time. Don’t like it—”

  “I walk?”

  Stricken actually seemed surprised by how naïve that was. “No. We shoot you and throw your corpse in a ditch. You had your chance with squishy and benevolent MHI, but now you’re with me. Playtime is over. We’ve got shit to do. Screw with my timeline anymore, and I’ll just kill you.” Stricken could ooze menace when he wanted to. There was no doubt he’d have her capped in a heartbeat. “Understood?”

  “Got it,” she said sullenly.

  “Good. Then you can shut up and wait until we meet with the expert.”

  “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t run off, princess,” I whispered to her.

  “Don’t want to hear it.”

  “So how about it, Pitt? Are you in or not?”

  “I’m only interested in stopping that thing in the jungle.”

  “Good. Because I’m the only one who knows how to finish the job. I need someone Chosen, like you or Franks. You need my knowledge.”

  Until I could figure out how to handle it myself, or Gutterres seemed to think his friend who had stayed out there knew what to do, then I could arrange for Stricken to accidentally fall on some bullets. “I’ll work with you for now.”

  “That’ll do.” Stricken nodded. “You hear that, Franks? I really only need one of you to cooperate.”

  Franks grunted. “So I should shoot Pitt?”

  “He’s joking. I think. But if you harm Franks, then you might as well kill me too. Then good luck scrounging up another Chosen in time.”

  Stricken grinned and turned to Sonya. “See, kid? Now that’s how you bargain.”

  “You mind if I call my wife to tell her where we all vanished to?” So that Julie could send in the cavalry.

  “Aw, you two have such a wholesome and caring relationship, it makes me want to barf . . . but your phone won’t work in here. We’ve got a jammer on this site.”

  “Mr. Stricken.” One of the white guys walked up next to his superior. His guns were newer and his kit was fancier. His accent suggested East Texas. “We’ve got a problem, sir.”

  “What is it?”

  “The VIPs still want to meet at sunrise, but we’ve spotted some tangos poking around the perimeter.”

  “Cultists?”

  “Looks like it.” That one had to be Unicorn alumnus who’d stayed loyal to the old boss, which meant he was either a human handler, or something else that could pass for human. “We don’t know if they’re with the Old Ones or Asag though.”

  That made me perk right up. Both of those wanted me dead. “What’s this got to do with Asag?”

  “Those factions hate each other more than they hate us. They’re at war. That’s what’s actually going on out in the jungle. That’s the main reason Asag has been too busy to step on you. If either of them win this particular battle, mankind loses.”

  I glanced at Franks, but from the grim look on his big flat face, he was still trying to decide if he could kill Stricken before he was shot to pieces. Having seen Franks in action, the answer was more than likely yes, and the fact that he hadn’t done so yet meant that he was weighing Stricken’s words. Franks was big on never failing a mission and killing Stricken was a mission. However, protecting mankind from the forces of ultimate evil was also his mission. I figured saving a few million lives outranked ending one really odious one. But most importantly, the MCB’s primary mission was keeping monsters secret from most of mankind. It was their vaunted First Reason, because they truly believed that the more regular people know about the supernatural, the more powerful the supernatural would become, until our world was doomed. From what Coslow had said earlier, if this came to pass, it would be catastrophic enough that even the best bullshit artists at the MCB might not be able to cover it up.

  Conflicting missions was probably going to confuse Franks, and a confused Franks was more dangerous than a regular Franks, so I said to him, “You cool with this, Franks?”

  “Yeah,” he growled, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. Clearly, the men prepared to shoot him didn’t either.

  The man from Texas wasn’t done with his warning. “We tried to bag one of the cultists for interrogation, but they disappeared back into the crowd. The way they knew this area, they’ve got to be locals.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Curtis,” Stricken said. “So you think they know we’ve been hiding here?”

  “We’ve tried to keep a low profile, but probably. Should we scratch the mission, sir?”

  “No. Time isn’t on our side and I’ve already wasted too much as it is getting these clowns assembled. Don’t tell the VIPs’ security detail anything either. I don’t want to scare them off. If the cult makes a move against us, we’ll deal with them, but having their lives threatened will just demonstrate to them how much they need us . . . ” Stricken started walking away. “Alright, everybody, get freshened up so we look presentable when we meet the rest of our illustrious alliance.”

  The succubus hopped off the truck hood and followed Stricken. She winked at Franks as she passed him. “You’re not going to want to miss this, Franks. Trust me.”

  “Who’re we meeting?” Franks demanded.

  “I’m not about to ruin the surprise,” Stricken said. “Our convoy leaves in ten.”

  Sonya whispered to me, “This guy is a real piece of work.”

  She had no idea.

  CHAPTER 25

  I used one of the filthy bathrooms to clean up. I took my helmet off and my hair was damp with sweat, salt in my eyes. My hands were shaking from coming off the adrenaline rush. I was covered in grit and sticky blood, a lot of which I wasn’t even sure who I’d gotten it from. I splashed some water on my face from the sink. I was dying of thirst. I’d not worn my CamelBak to save weight—I hadn’t thought I’d need it fighting in our own backyard—but since the water turned out to be kind of rust-colored and smelled funny, I didn’t dare drink any of it. Everything hurt. I really wanted to take my armor off and
check the burns from the Drekavac’s bullets, but since there were a bunch of armed guards still watching me, that struck me as a bad idea.

  True to his word, Stricken let us keep our weapons, which was really surprising. I’d seen Franks in action. If he wanted to kill every man here, he could probably do it without getting hurt too badly. I half expected to come out of the washroom to find a pile of dismembered bodies and Franks picking through them for replacement organs for any of his that had gotten shot in the process, but the garage was the same as before.

  Thankfully, there was a cooler full of bottled waters that hopefully hadn’t been filled out of the local tap, so I grabbed one. With the guards watching me carefully, I walked up to Franks so we could speak quietly. Nobody tried to stop me. “You’re being awfully cooperative.”

  “I got reasons.”

  “You mean orders.”

  Franks just raised an eyebrow, but the way he did it told me that he hadn’t misspoke.

  “Wait. You’re going along with Stricken’s bullshit on your own accord? I figured Coslow had ordered you to.”

  “Priorities,” he muttered.

  So Franks was in the same boat I was: Deal with the pending supernatural mass casualty event first, revenge second. I could get with that plan. Knowing that Franks had unnaturally good hearing, I lowered my voice so our observers wouldn’t hear. “You know Stricken will off us the second he doesn’t need us anymore.”

  “Yep.”

  Great. We just needed to figure out exactly when that moment was that we didn’t need Stricken anymore so we could kill him first. “Okay. Follow my lead.”

  Franks snorted at that. He wasn’t much of a follower.

  Sonya came out of the other bathroom, drying her hands on a rag. She came over to stand by me and Franks. “This sucks.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t knock out one of your shadows and try to sneak out wearing his face.”

  “My abilities only do so much for overall size. I wouldn’t make a convincing man who is four inches taller and forty pounds heavier than me. Plus, I look terrible with a mustache.” Sonya extended one hand toward Franks. “You must be Agent Franks. I’m Sonya.”

  Franks just stared at her until she awkwardly put her hand down. I knew those feels.

  About half the soldiers kept an eye on us, while the other half got three SUVs ready. When the doors were open I could see that they were armored, with extra-thick bulletproof glass, and there were weapons stored in the back of each. I’m sure the local authorities frowned on trunks full of machine guns but Stricken had probably already paid off whoever needed bribing. One thing was troubling though. I didn’t like how nervous the men looked, because their nerves weren’t just because of us new arrivals. They were a lot more worried about whatever was outside the garage than what was inside with them, especially considering one of the things inside was Franks . . .

  “So what do we do now?” Sonya asked.

  “We play along and see where this goes. Do exactly what I say.” She started to give me some smart-ass response, but I cut her off. “I’m not screwing around anymore. We’re a long way from home. If you’d done what you were supposed to at the compound, we wouldn’t be in this mess. When the time comes, we have to count on each other or we’re not making it out of the jungle alive.”

  “I don’t even want to go to any jungle! I just want this thing out of me before it kills me.”

  “Then you probably should have thought of that before you tried to escape and leave the rest of us hanging. And before you make any excuses about the succubus grabbing you out of the cell, I know about the map you stole from the archives.” It was obvious my knowing about that surprised her. “You were going to make a run for it no matter what.”

  “I was just covering my bases.”

  “I’m not buying it. You want to survive, we have to trust each other. Speaking of which,” I turned back to Franks. “You and the succubus . . . ”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Complicated was a step up from classified. We were making progress. “I gathered that.”

  “That’s who called me on the phone at the country store,” Sonya said. “To make that offer tricking me to go see that lich.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. You heard her. I’ve got an amazing vocal range and even I’m kinda jealous. She’d make a killing as a phone sex operator.”

  “Why’d your girlfriend send her to get killed by a lich, Franks?”

  “Ex.” Not that I’d expected Franks to expound on his relationship status further, but he nodded toward the door to warn me that Stricken had returned.

  Stricken had ditched the combat gear and was back in a suit and tie. That outfit seemed more fitting because this was a man who preferred to delegate the trigger pulling to underlings. He was more of a schemer than a doer. The reason he’d been the one to confront us in Alabama probably had something to do with how complicated the portal magic was. If he’d been able to delegate it to someone else, he more than likely would have.

  “Mount up.” Stricken gestured toward the vehicles. The three of us started walking toward the SUV in the middle. “Nope. Each of our new recruits in a different ride. I hate to put too many eggs in one basket. Sonya, you’re with me.”

  I didn’t like being separated and isolated from the others, but I was committed now. There would have been a lot of easier ways for Stricken to get the Ward without loading us into a convoy as some elaborate ruse. Franks shrugged and went to the lead vehicle.

  “Be careful,” I told Sonya, because there had to be a reason that crafty bastard wanted a moment with her. “Don’t tell him anything he can use against you later—or he will. Good luck.”

  Sonya nodded, wide-eyed and nervous.

  Then I went to the last truck in line. “I’ve got shotgun.”

  “You ain’t got shit.” The Texan pointed toward the backseat. “Get in back.” He got in the passenger seat.

  I sat behind him. If he wanted to be a douche, then he could get the tall guy’s knees in his back the whole ride. There was one man in the rear serving as trunk monkey, meaning he had a belt-fed in case our convoy got attacked from behind. One of the soldiers was driving. Another sat across from me. Except then the succubus showed up. “Scoot over.”

  “Don’t you want to ride with Franks?”

  “I don’t think he’s in the mood to talk to me right now.”

  “How’s that different? He doesn’t talk to anybody ever.”

  “True. He’s not much of a communicator. Now make room.”

  I slid to the middle so Lana could get in. It took her a moment to fold her wings out of the way. The presence of the demon seemed to make everyone else really uncomfortable, especially since she made a big show of trying to fit the seat belt over her ample bosom. A few of the soldiers couldn’t help but stare at her, which seemed to energize her. The driver touched the cross on his neck chain and kept his eyes straight ahead, which meant he was the smartest one here.

  “Lana would be the funnest but final minutes of your life, boys. She ain’t worth it,” the Texan warned. I didn’t know if the soldiers spoke much English, but they got the message. “Focus on the job.”

  “You’re no fun, Jim.”

  “No, ma’am. I am not.”

  The garage door rolled up and our convoy headed out. I had to resist the urge to start whistling the convoy song. That was all Milo’s fault. I’d have that stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

  I didn’t know what time zone we were in—it was still dark out—but it felt like that really tired time of the night, close to sunrise, so we had to be a few hours ahead of Alabama. There was a clock on the dash, and it confirmed my guess. It said 4:45 A.M.

  “Jim, is it?”

  “You can call me Mr. Curtis.”

  “What are daylight hours here?”

  “About five-thirty to eighteen-thirty.” I’d figured him for former military. Earl had told me Unicorn’s h
uman handlers were always recruited that way, sort of like my dad had been. “Why?”

  “Nothing.” I was just trying to figure out what the window was before I had to worry about the Drekavac again. There was no way he was going to give up. Assuming my friends hadn’t removed him from the equation, he’d be back. I doubted he’d be able to get here and do anything before dawn. The window was too narrow and closing fast, but tomorrow night was a different story.

  “He’s worried about the Drekavac,” Lana said. “Stricken didn’t tell you that he’s torn up his contract and he’s coming after us now. He took it personal.”

  Curtis let out a frustrated sigh. “The boss doesn’t tell us anything.”

  “That’s because you work for an asshole,” I said.

  “Yeah, but unlike most of the assholes I’ve worked for over the years, Stricken actually does what needs doing.” He looked back over his shoulder at me. “And you’re here too. So I guess we’re both suckers.”

  He had me there.

  Stricken’s hideout was in a really bad part of town. The streets were narrow and disintegrating into dirt and potholes. The regular buildings were mismatched and rotting, and in every available space between, and even on top of them, had been built shacks slapped together out of whatever was available.

  “Great neighborhood,” I said.

  “We needed to set up at the nexus of some ley lines—those are like underground rivers of supernatural energy—in order to power the thing that brought you here. This favela was the only place in the region available that met our needs. The others were unavailable or had too many witnesses around.”

  “There was another nexus that was next door to a five-star resort with a great dance club and some really nice restaurants,” Lana said, “but Stricken said that wasn’t clandestine enough. Oh, the sacrifices I make for you poor dumb humans.”

  “That nexus was inside a church that’s still in use,” Curtis said. “You would have caught on fire the second you came through the portal.”

  “Worth it. The resort has a very nice pool.”

  “I think you’d stick out there,” I said.