Free Stories 2011

by Patrick Lundrigan, Larry Correia, Travis S. Taylor, Sharon Lee

  The blarg saw her and turned. She could feel the old magic pouring off that pile of pulsing green brains, but they had been designed to mess up humans, not her kind. No wonder the Hunters had been hurting. This thing really packed a wallop. When its magic didn’t floor her, the blarg charged. Tanya hadn’t even realized that she had raised the rifle. The sights were wobbling like crazy. Her arms were shaking because the gun was so heavy. She pulled the trigger but nothing happened. She pulled harder. Still nothing. She screamed in frustration as the monster galloped toward her. Tanya turned to run, but it was too late.

  The monster was too fast. One lizard leg swatted her. She hit the ground hard and lay there, wondering about all the bright lights going off inside her head. Her life flashed before her eyes, but it was a pretty boring life, with the highlights being keggers, a few concerts, and that one time cousin Buford had built a potato cannon and they wound up shooting frogs out of it to watch them hit the side of the overpass. She’d never been a Hunter. She’d never done anything like the adventurous elves of old. She was going to die, and she’d never accomplished anything. Blinking her way back to consciousness, she saw a giant claw descending toward her throat, and she screamed her pretty little head off.

  But the claw came off in a flash and went flying into the jungle. Bright orange blood poured out of the stump and splattered Tanya in the face. “Gross!”

  The orc came out of nowhere, swinging that giant ax like it weighed nothing. Edward had saved her life! The blarg reared back, slashing at him, but he dodged the attack and planted his ax square in the monster’s soft underbelly. It fell over and Edward lost the ax, but that didn’t stop him. Two swords zipped out faster than Momma’s switchblade and it was a whirl of silver and black as Edward went to town.

  Tanya watched in awe. Edward moved like a kung-fu movie on fast forward. The monster had to be five times his size, but the orc didn’t seem to care. He was positively nonchalant, and he took it apart, piece by piece. It was raining fluorescent orange blood and Edward was as cool as a cucumber. He was as cold as ice. He was as cool as Elvis.

  But even as quick as Edward was, that was a whole lot of monster, and it finally managed to tag him with one of its human sized hands. His clothes ripped, knives went flying, and Edward was sent rolling across the dirt to end up by her sneakers. The blarg roared, one of its brains hanging off and dripping goop, and it came right at them.

  This time it was Tanya’s turn to save the day. She rolled over, scooped up the rifle, sort of aimed it, and pulled the trigger. Sadly, there was still no boom. “Stupid piece of—“ Edward reached over and flipped the rifle’s safety lever to fire for her. “Oh… thanks.”

  This time when she pulled the trigger, the gun went off with the loudest BOOM she’d ever heard. It kicked her shoulder like a horse on steroids. She squealed and dropped the rifle. “Son of a bitch! That hurt!” But she’d hit the monster! The blarg made it a few more feet before it toppled over. She’d blown half its head off, and judging from the mess, the outside brains just did the magic, the inside brains worked just like everything else. And since those brains were sprayed all over the clearing…

  “Yay! I'm a Monster Hunter!” Edward gave her a thumbs up. She got to her feet, rubbing her tender shoulder, and picked up the rifle. It had .416 Rigby engraved on the side. Whatever that was, it sure did pack a punch.

  Edward got to his feet and pulled off the shredded remains of his shirt. There was a big bloody scratch on his side and he used the rags to apply pressure. “Dayum…” Tanya couldn’t help but stare, because Edward was seriously the most buffed thing she’d ever seen. He made her favorite football players look like dainty ballerinas. He didn’t just have a six pack abs, his six pack had six packs. Edward may have been an odd grayish-green color, but homeboy was chiseled. He went over to the blarg, yanked his ax out of its stinky guts, and caught her looking. Edward didn't so much as bat an eye. He was all like, This? Whatever. Or at least that’s what she figured he would have said, if he’d bothered to talk.

  Damn. He was cool.

  She snapped out of his orcish spell, darn all those distracting muscles, and got back to Monster Hunting business. They had to rescue those human brats. Edward must have thought the same thing, since he’d already spotted the hole they were being kept in. The kids were alive and whining, probably being kept around for a snack later, and Edward begun pulling them out.

  Tanya looked around. She could feel the impressive magic here and it was really too bad that she hadn’t been able to use her skills. She could totally have wrecked this place. That would have impressed Harbinger even more than her blowing some stupid blarg’s head off.

  There was a sudden rumble. “What was that?” she asked.

  Edward was dragging the kids along behind. He stopped and listened, then he lifted the ax. “More… for fight…” The sounds were coming from all around them now. The ground shifted under her feet and Tanya had to step back as the sleeping blarg buried beneath awoke. Mounds of dirt were shifting all over the clearing. There were dozens of them. She fumbled with the bolt handle until she managed to reload the elephant rifle.

  “He he he…” Edward had a very unnerving laugh. “Pinheads.” He actually sounded excited.

  They could never make it through that many monsters. Green claws burst from the soil. She was going to have to use her magic to try to break the pocket dimension. This whole place was going to fall apart when she did that. She was terrified, but she needed to think of something sufficiently badass to say like a Monster Hunter totally should… She couldn’t think of anything, though. In her defense it was her first day on the job.

  Edward had a human child bouncing under each arm. He’d left his ax buried in one monster’s head, left one sword in a monster’s belly, broke the other over a monster’s head, and had managed to run through most of his knives. If he’d known there were going to be that many monsters he would have brought more than seventeen weapons.

  The door was just ahead. The elf girl was running along behind. She kept shooting the big gun. She was also not a very good shot, but at least she was making lots of noise. Battle was always better with lots of noise. Her war cries were too high pitched though. If she was going to be a proper warrior, she was going to have to work on that.

  Edward was torn. The elf hadn’t died, and strangely enough, that made him happy… But then again, he hadn’t liked humans much either until MHI had adopted his clan. She hadn’t even tried to steal his soul once, and she’d saved his life by shooting a few monsters. Gnrwlz was probably displeased, but Edward had killed many monsters today, so they were even.

  The door was open and sunlight was coming through. Which was good, because the little world full of monsters was coming apart and with all the trees falling down, he might not have found his way. Harb Anger, Brother of Great War Chief, and Trip Jones were in the doorway shouting for him. There was a scream from the elf, though this one was not a battle cry, and Edward turned to see that a monster had caught her by the foot and was dragging her away.

  Sadness. Edward had started liking the elf. Edward reached the door and shoved the human children at the Hunters. You know what? Edward decided that maybe he did like that elf just enough to not let her get eaten. Gnrwlz could suck it. Edward would save her, too. He turned and ran back through the shifting dirt and collapsing trees. He was out of proper urk weapons, but he still had something stabby, and that would do.

  Edward leapt over Tanya, landed on the monster’s wide lizard back, and scrambled up to its globular head. He drove Trip Jones’ Swiss Army corkscrew deep into the monster’s head, twisted it in, then ripped out a plug of skull. The monster gurgled and fell, making the Swiss Army knife one of the best presents ever. Edward jumped off, scooped up Tanya in his arms and ran for the doorway as the world around him collapsed into oblivion.

  “I like her,” Red Beard, or Milo it turned out he was called, was saying. “She’s certainly energetic.”

  “Crazy
is more like it. Not that that’s necessarily a resume killer with this outfit,” Harbinger answered. “Skippy’s people won’t like it.”

  “Ed said he’d vouch for her,” Milo pointed out.

  Harbinger shook his head. “Hell… Trip hired a troll. How much worse could this be? Oh, look, pretty-pretty princess has decided to join us.”

  Tanya woke up in the arms of an orc barbarian. Now that would have really freaked Momma out… Orcs were like the ultimate bad boys, and there was something kind of exciting about that. She was on the ground and he was kneeling next to her. Edward’s goggled head was tilted to the side, like he was saying, I got you, baby. Don’t worry. I’m here. Or maybe not. It was kind of hard to tell. When Edward saw that she was conscious he unceremoniously dropped her and wandered off.

  “I got a headache,” Tanya said. The last time she’d felt this way was when she’d got into Elmo’s moonshine. “So, how was that? Pretty awesome, huh?”

  Harbinger sat down on the edge of an old piece of machinery and lit a cigarette. He took his time responding. “Not bad. Edward said you did okay. Were you actually telling the truth for once when you said your dream was to be a Hunter?”

  “It is. It really is, I swear. I’ll work hard. I want to be like you guys. I want to be somebody,” Tanya cried. “I’ll be the best Hunter you’ve ever seen.”

  Harbinger sighed. “I may regret this…” He took out a business card and wrote on the back of it. “This is the next Newbie class. And just because you’re royalty doesn’t mean you get any special treatment. Lie to me again and you’re toast. Got it?”

  “Serious? I can be a Hunter?” Tanya started to tear up. “I can’t believe this. I’ve still gotta tell Momma.”

  Harbinger looked to the opposite end of the factory. “And speaking of which…”

  “Tanya!” The whole factory shook from the power of the queen’s voice and the thunder of her slippers. “Tanyalthus Enderminon! I’m gonna wring your scrawny neck! Comin’ all the way up here, thinkin’ you been kidnap stolen, and you done run off playin’ Hunter!” Momma was huffing and red faced. This was the most exercise she’d gotten in a really long time. “Sorry bout this,” she told Harbinger.

  “It’s fine. In fact, I’d be interested in hiring Tanya for some other work.”

  “Really?” she asked suspiciously. “Pay good?”

  “Real good. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Better be good. You pay extra for the royal line!” The queen came over and grabbed Tanya by the end of one pointy ear and hauled her up. “We’re gettin’ you home right now, young lady!”

  “Ow! Ow! Ow! Okay! I’m coming!” Despite the aches and pains, being in torn and filthy clothing, and the embarrassment of being dragged by the ear, Tanya was happy as could be. She was going to be a Hunter. She still needed to talk Momma into it, but scary as Momma was, she was no monster. Elvis had smiled on her.

  “You’s in so much trouble.” Momma dragged her out to the old Buick station wagon in the parking lot. Elmo and several other elves were sitting in the car, giving the evil eye to Edward, who had wandered back to the van. It was an uneasy truce, only because of the presence of the Hunters.

  “Hang on a sec.” Tanya broke out of Momma’s grasp and ran over to Edward. The elves gasped, but they didn't dare make a move. Edward tilted his head to the side, confused. There was a notebook in the back of the van. Tanya grabbed a pen, wrote on the paper, then tore it out and handed it over to Edward.

  “TAAANYAAAA!” the queen of the Elves screeched.

  Edward looked at the phone number and scratched his head.

  “Coming, Mother.” Tanya flounced back to the car, only turning long enough to pantomime talking on the phone and to mouth the words, “Call me.” The elves piled into the station wagon and it roared off in a cloud of oily smoke. The queen could be heard shouting until the car was out of view.

  Edward carefully folded the piece of paper and put it in his pocket for safe keeping.

  The End

  The Grimnoir Chronicles: Detroit Christmas

  by Larry Correia

  December 25th, 1931

  Detroit. One of the greatest cities in the world. The crossroads of industry and commerce. The American Paris, the City of Champions, Blimp-Town, Motor City, call it what you want, it’s one crowded place. Nearly two million people live in Detroit, but as far as Jake Sullivan was aware, only a few of them were trying to kill him at that particular moment in time.

  Sure, there might have been others in Detroit that were gunning for him, as he wasn’t the type of man that made a lot of friends, but judging from the volume of gunfire pouring through the windows and puckering the walls... Six. There were only six shooters.

  He could handle that.

  “Enough! I said enough!” The gunfire tapered off. One last angry bullet bounced off his cover with a clang. “You still alive in there?”

  The seven hundred pound chunk of steel plate he’d picked up to use as a shield had worked better than expected. Sullivan checked his body for holes, and finding no more than usual, shouted back, “Yeah, but your boys ain’t. You ready to surrender yet, Johnny? The cops will be here any minute.”

  “You’ll be an icicle before then.”

  The temperature was dropping fast, which meant that Snowball was out there too. Both Maplethorpe brothers were Actives, which was just his rotten luck. Sullivan’s teeth began to chatter. He had to finish this before the Icebox could freeze him out. At this range, a clean shot could freeze him solid, but behind cover... even a really powerful Icebox wouldn’t be able to steal more than ten degrees a minute from room this big, but it had already been cold to begin with. That didn’t leave Sullivan much time.

  “Kidnapping, murder.” He needed to goad them into coming after him. It was his only chance. “You boys been busy.”

  “Throw ‘em on the list. They can only send me to the gas chamber once,” Johnny Bones shouted back through the broken windows. “Are you the Heavy? Is this the legendary Heavy Jake Sullivan, J. Edgar Hoover’s pet Active?”

  Sullivan didn’t dignify that with a response

  “Heard you been looking for my crew. How’d you find us? I thought you Heavies was supposed to be stupid?”

  “Even a blind pig finds an acorn once in awhile, Johnny.” Sullivan picked up the giant Lewis machinegun from the floor with one shaking hand. It was a good thing he’d already been wearing gloves or he would’ve left skin on the freezing metal. “You ready to go to prison?”

  “You know all about that from what I hear. So how’s Rockville this time of year?”

  The infamous prison for actively magical criminals was in Montana. Sullivan had been an inmate there for six long years. “Cold. Very cold.” Some of Johnny Bones’ men were going to try to flank him while they were talking. He knew because that’s what he would’ve ordered if their situations had been reversed. Sullivan picked the most likely window, pointed the Lewis at it, and waited. “You’ll get used to it. Your brother will be nice and comfy, though.”

  “We can make a deal,” Johnny shouted, trying to keep Sullivan distracted. “It don’t have to be like this, with you all blue and frozen stuck to the floor. How about I let you walk out of here, pay you enough to make it worth your time? We’ll call it my present to you. Tis the season and all that jazz. I’m in a giving mood. What do you say?”

  Someone moved on the other side of the window. Sullivan held down the trigger and let the Lewis roar. Bricks exploded into dust and glass shattered. The man on the other side went down hard.

  That left five.

  “I’d say you gotta do better than that.”

  Johnny Bones Maplethorpe ordered his remaining men to open fire and bullets ricocheted off the steel plate. Jake Sullivan was pinned down in a room that was rapidly turning into a walk-in freezer by a gang of hardened criminals led by a vicious Shard. It was one hell of a way to spend Christmas.

  Two Days Earlier

  “So, Mr. Sull
ivan, you got any plans this Christmas?”

  Sullivan finished counting out the January rent money and passed it over. It was the last ten dollars he had to his name. Paying work had been sporadic lately. “Nothing in particular, ma’am.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Brooks said. His landlord owned the entire building and the diner downstairs. It was obvious the old woman didn’t like her tenant much, but Jake Sullivan always paid his rent on time. “I don’t want any loudness or carrying on. I know how you Irish get during the holidays with the devil drink.”

  “Why, Mrs. Brooks, alcoholic beverages are illegal.”

  “I know all about your disdain for the law, Mr. Sullivan.” Mrs. Brooks eyed him suspiciously, then glanced around the office, as if expecting to see a distillery hidden in a corner. Instead there was only a battered second-hand desk, a couple of sturdy wooden chairs, a bedraggled couch, and a few book shelves. “It’s only my strong upbringing that’s allowed me to forgive your horrific criminal history and your unseemly magic.”

  The landlord talked a big game, but both of them knew that she’d rent to anybody who could pay in these tough times, and that included convicted felons, less popular types of Actives, or anybody else for that matter. The old lady would rent a room to the Chairman himself if he had ten dollars ready on the twenty-third of each month. “And I won’t forget it,” Sullivan said.

  Mrs. Brooks stepped back and examined the words painted on his door. “Why would someone like you go into this kind of business anyway?”

  “I like puzzles...” Sullivan said honestly. “Anything else I can do for you, ma’am?” and before she could even answer he was already closing the door on her. “No? Wonderful. Merry Christmas. Good bye.”

  The sign on the door read Sullivan Security and Investigations. His last security job had been intimidating the union strikers at the UBF plant. Good work that, standing around earning money because you had a reputation for being able to crush a man’s skull with a thought. It had paid well too, but that had been months ago. The last investigation job had meant confirming to an angry wife that her husband liked prostitutes. The final bit of money from that one had just paid the rent.