SNAFU: Hunters

by James A. Moore

  There was nothing Warner could do. The Taint started tearing into Robbie. Warner watched, utterly stunned, as the creature disembowelled his best friend right in front of his eyes.

  He had no ammo. He had the Blackhawk, though. A mix of adrenaline and pure rage kicked in. “You mother-fucker!” Terry slid the knife out of its sheath, spun it in his hand and primed to launch himself towards the Taint. Go for the neck. Go in hard…

  “No!” Through a froth of blood and bile, Robbie spluttered his last words. “No, mate, run! Get out! Ru…” An explosion of foaming blood poured out of the dying man’s mouth and he went limp. His feet jerked and twitched for a few seconds, and then stilled.

  The Taint slowly looked up at Warner, a blood-smeared monstrosity – a creature from the worst possible nightmare imaginable. A slow smile spread over its face and it scooped out a handful of stuff that should have really stayed inside Robbie’s stomach cavity. The gurning creature held out the handful of intestines towards Terry and in a rasping, guttural voice, spoke two words, “You. Next.” The creature’s grin widened and he recoiled his sinewy arm and stuffed the blood-soaked intestines into its maw.

  There was nothing more Terry could do for Robbie. The Blackhawk suddenly seemed about as useful as a penknife. And as much as he wanted to attack the creature right here, right now, he knew it was suicide to do so. A good hunter hunted. They didn’t become the prey because they got all emotional and unnecessary.

  Get out.

  Regroup.

  Find Flynn.

  And then come back in with a shit-load of guns and hunt this bastard down before it escaped beyond the boundaries of the kill house and out into the community.

  He let out a scream of rage and glared at the Taint. “You and me, Binky! This ain’t over! This ain’t fucking over!” Warner took one last look at the remains of his oppo, turned, and ran…

  * * *

  Terry Warner crashed his way through the door of yet another dilapidated room and skidded to a halt. Damn it, the house was huge! He’d got completely turned around and had a Taint, a real Taint, looking for him that apparently regarded him as the dessert course. Outside, a full moon had risen to its apex, shining a ghostly white light through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He slumped down, breathing hard and with his back against a crumbling plaster fire surround that, a couple of centuries ago, would have been downright regal. Having it pressed against his spine meant nothing could creep up behind him. So that was a start. He ran a shaking hand through his short hair and tried to get his breathing under control. This was worse than his first ever combat mission. At least that time he’d had some real fucking bullets! This time, all he had was a useless M4 that kept doing a Bob Marley on him and jamming. He checked his leg holster – he still had the Blackhawk, but using that would mean getting up close with a Taint. Much closer than Terry wanted to be. Ever.

  He pulled his head up off his chest, sniffed hard, took a deep breath and looked around. Okay. Freaking out wasn’t going to help. He could do that later at home, in Claire’s arms. Right now, he needed to survive long enough to make it out of the house in one piece.

  But to do that, he needed to turn from hunted into hunter.

  A soft click made every muscle in his body tense.

  He brought the M4 up to his shoulder then remembered that it was nothing more than a fancy stick, thanks to a jammed trigger. He dropped the useless weapon and slid the Blackhawk out of its sheath. “Right, you bastard!” he muttered. “Ding fucking ding. Round two…”

  Terry let the image of his friend being torn to pieces crash into the front of his mind. He let all the blind, white-hot anger, and all the choking rage pile up, and concentrated it into a single pinpoint of fury. ‘Use it. Control it. Focus it. Then unleash hell on the son of a bitch!’ Colby Flynn’s words came back to him. Day one. Combat tactics. Damn, that guy might be a hard-arse T.O., but he sure as hell knew his stuff.

  Terry braced, ready to explode up and launch a deadly attack with the Blackhawk on the first Taint that showed its ugly face through the door…

  “Whoa!” Flynn slid effortlessly into the room and, thanks to lightning reflexes, years of training and battlefield experience, and a healthy sense of self-preservation, just managed to spring back in time to avoid getting sliced and diced by Warner’s Blackhawk.

  “Sir!” Warner immediately retracted the knife and spluttered an apology. “Shit! I’m sorry! I thought you were Binky! I… shit, did I miss you? Tell me I missed you! Did I miss you?”

  “It’s okay, you missed. But nice backswipe.” Colby flashed a humourless grin at the man. “Bank that one, Warner. We may need it again before the night’s out.” He put a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yes, sir.” Warner’s voice trembled slightly, but his jaw muscle twitched and his stance was solid. He might have failed the VR simulation, but he’d come through his first encounter with a real Taint with added fire in his belly. “How did you find me?”

  “Fella, you’re leaving a trail a blind man could follow.” Colby pointed down at the man’s boots.

  “Shit. Sorry.” Warner examined the bottom of his boots. They were still wet with his friend’s blood. “Sir, Robbie–”

  Colby’s voice softened. “I know, mate. I found him.” Flynn reached into his pocket and pulled out Robbie Moore’s dog tags. He looked down at them for a moment, and then held them out to Warner. “He was your oppo, Terry. You should hold onto these for him until we get out of here.”

  Warner closed his hand around the tags and cleared his throat, choking back his emotions. “Thank you, sir.”

  Colby sniffed sharply. “Right then.” He pressed his radio squawk button. “Yol, I’ve got Warner. He’s alive. Sound’s like we’ve got…” He paused and looked at Warner, who held up a single finger. Colby nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got a single Taint that we know of. We’re on level one, the old drawing room in the north wing. The Taint is…” Again he looked at Warner, who pointed up, held up two fingers, and then rotated his flattened hand from side to side. Colby responded with another nod and carried on talking into his radio. “We think he’s two levels up. Get the team to come in through the side entrance and meet us in the back stairwell.”

  “Copy that.”

  “And bring guns. Lots and lots of big, shiny guns.” Colby released the button and looked at Warner. “You and I are going to meet up with the rest of Alpha Unit. They’re going to give you a live payload for that M4–”

  “This bloody thing’s defective, sir. Misfired on me. I had to use the other end to hit the Taint in the face.” Warner shrugged. “It seemed like a good thing to do. Ya know. Therapeutic.”

  Colby raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Adda boy. Okay, so we’ll get you a damn gun that actually works, and then how about you and me go find Binky and blow its head off? Ya know. For Robbie. You up for that, mate?” As pep talks went, it wasn’t Colby’s finest. But he knew it would appeal to the lad and his desire to get even with the Taint.

  Warner’s face hardened. “Yes, sir!”

  “Good on ya. Righty-ho, let’s go and find the lads.”

  “Sir?”

  Colby stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  Warner looked thoughtful for a moment. “When we first got briefed about Taints, the implication was they were pretty non-communicative, right?”

  “Yep, they’re not known for their sparkling after-dinner conversation skills and witty repartee. Why?”

  “Binky spoke to me.”

  “He what?”

  “He spoke to me.”

  “What did he say?”

  Warner did a quick impression of how the creature at pointed at him. “You. Next.” He lowered his arm. “A bit like ET. Only with teeth.” Warner sniffed. “That kinda surprised me, sir.”

  Colby nodded. “It kinda surprises me too, Terry.” Colby scowled. “Right now, I’m not intending to debate with the bugger, just kill it. Shall we?” He pointed at the open door,
and Warner nodded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The two men jogged out of the room and into the corridor, Colby leading with the Glock 17 held straight out, and Warner bringing up the rear…

  * * *

  “I have never been so damn happy to see your ugly face, Micky! And Gary. Good-o. Where’s Dan and Sean?” Colby hopped down the last two steps and into the open space of the stairwell. Warner followed and stood quietly, waiting to be introduced to the legends that were Alpha Unit.

  “Covering the exits with Bravo team. Good to see your flabby arse in one piece too, boss.” Micky grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

  Colby jerked a thumb back at his silent partner. “Mick, this is Terry Warner. Give him a gun. A big, honking gun with a shit-load of ammo. He’s coming with. And he gets first shot at Binky, okay?”

  “Oh, so now you’re calling him Binky?”

  Gary Parks, a huge, hulking, ebony-skinned man with a passion for killing Taints and blowing things up, frowned. “Who’s Binky?”

  “The Taint.” Colby shook his head and pointed at Micky Cox. “Mate, don’t ask me. Ask that daft bastard.”

  Gary grinned. “Hey, you can call it whatever the hell you want. All I know is we’ve got a live one. The guv’nor is scanning the CCTV from the control room. If she picks anything up, she’ll shout.” He handed Warner an adapted C8 carbine. “Live jackets. Make ‘em count.” He put a huge hand on the lad’s shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry about your oppo, mate”

  “Thanks. And it’s a real honour to meet you, sir.” Warner slung the C8 over his shoulder and held out a hand. Gary Parks gave him a firm, brief handshake and then grinned again.

  “Save the fanboy stuff for later, kiddo.” He looked at Colby. “Boss?”

  “Hold up.” He pressed his radio. “Yol, we’re ready. Anything?”

  “Movement on level two. Looks like it’s making for the central stairwell and the main exit. No other heat signatures, so you’re right, you’ve got a solo.”

  “Copy that.” Colby turned back to Mick and Gary. “Okay lads, let’s tag-team this one. He’s just eaten,” Colby threw an apologetic look at Warner and then immediately carried on, “Sorry, fella – so he’ll be slow. These second-gen Taints have a metabolism issue, so after feeding they slow down for about half an hour.”

  “I’m like that after a NAFFI steak and kidney pie. Takes me a good hour to digest it.” Micky sniffed.

  “Mick, for Christ’s sake, show a bit of respect!” Colby smacked Micky around the ear. “Oh, and one other thing. Apparently, this one can talk.”

  “You’re shitting me!” Gary raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  “According to Warner here, yep.”

  “Okay then. Let’s see if we can get the fucker to say ‘please don’t shoot me in the face’ before you blow it to pieces, how about that?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Warner nodded and then looked to Colby for orders. “Sir?”

  Colby grinned. “Lead on, Warner. You’re on point. Gary, bring up the rear. Eyes on.”

  The four men threaded their way out of the stairwell and into the main corridor that ran from the North Wing to the central section of the house. Warner knew that he had three of the best Taint hunters in the country behind him. And that made him feel a whole lot better about his chances of surviving his first live hunt.

  * * *

  Terry Warner held up a fist and the four-man team stopped dead. He turned back to Colby, pointed at his eyes and then flicked his fingers forward. He then held the flat of his hand back at Flynn, and Colby – grim-faced and serious for a change – nodded and adjusted the grip on the Glock.

  Alone, but knowing the team were just inches behind him and ready to back him up if things got serious, Warner stalked into the centre of the main entrance hall. To his right a grand staircase flowed up towards a landing, where it split into two. Carved balustrades that once formed the perfect backdrop to the grand entrances of debutantes in swirling taffeta dresses now stood peeling and battered by time. Through the huge glass windows the moonlight shone in, turning the whole world into a monochrome checkerboard of stark black shadows and illuminated silver-grey patches.

  Warner stood in the middle of the house’s once-grand entrance hall and scanned the shadows. He rotated three-sixty degrees, the C8 pushed hard into his shoulder and the safety most definitely off this time. His finger lay alongside the trigger housing, ready to slide effortlessly onto the curved steel and squeeze as soon as he saw Binky’s snarling face. He stared along the barrel and muttered. “C’mon, c’mon, where are you, you ugly bastard?” He sang softly, “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

  A voice called out softly and Warner glanced back at the team. “Stairs!” Colby pointed up to the staircase’s landing.

  Bathed in moonlight and looking like a ghastly silver wraith, the Taint slowly raised its head and stared straight at Warner. On either side the stairs curled gracefully away into black shadows. But the landing, which faced the huge windows of the entrance, was drenched in a soft, silvery glow. The Taint gave Warner that poisonous, vicious smile once again and raised a sinewy arm. A single talon pointed straight at Warner and the Taint hissed. “You. Die. Now.”

  “Oh, ya think, motherfucker?” Warner smiled back. It wasn’t a nice smile. Visions of his friend’s violated body crashed into his mind and he felt that white-hot anger boiling back up again. Focus. Use the anger. Focus… He aimed the snout of the C8 straight at the creature, which let out a gurgling, rasping laugh.

  “Broken!” It pointed at the gun. “You. Die. Now.”

  The Taint let out a howl and leapt, clearing the stairs in one bound and hitting the slippery, black and white floor at a flat run. It hurtled towards Warner, a murderous look on its face and venom-laden talons outstretched.

  “Boss!” Gary and Micky threw Colby frantic looks. “Col, the kid’s a candidate! He’s not trained for this!”

  “Wait out. This one’s his.” Colby watched, but the Glock was trained on the Taint, just in case. He wanted Warner to take this bastard down, but if the damn thing got too close…

  In the centre of the hallway, Warner held his ground, legs slightly apart and knees bent. He watched the Taint get closer… closer… closer…

  Warner slid his index finger into the curl of the trigger. “Broken, huh? Well, guess what, arsehole? Wrong gun!”

  The C8 let out two shouts as Warner squeezed the trigger twice for a double tap. Both bullets, laden with organophosphur, slammed into the Taint’s chest, sending it flying backwards, its grotesquely muscled arms flung outwards and its head back. The mouth was still open and the damn thing was still screaming blue bloody murder.

  Warner slowly lowered the C8 and watched the fireworks, his mouth set in a grim smirk.

  The Taint hit the bottom stair and spasmed. The organophosphur sent spiders of fire crawling up underneath his skin, a vivid gold that looked even brighter in the muted, silver half-light of the hallway. The Taint squirmed and thrashed as the liquid fire reached its neck and face. Its back arched so hard that the creature’s heels almost touched the back of its head. It writhed and thrashed in agony as its skin started to bubble. Finally, the spiders-web of fire underneath its skin filled every vein and artery, and it went into a violent, bone-breaking, heel-drumming fit. With a last ear-splitting howl, the creature exploded. Grey ash filled the hallway, coating every surface with a thick blanket of dust.

  Warner watched the creature’s violent death throws and its explosive demise impassively. As the dust motes danced in the moonlight and floated down, he smiled. “That’s for Robbie.” He opened his hand and looked down at the dog tags, still encrusted in his friend’s dried blood. While the creature had been thrashing and screaming, he’d slipped his hand into his pocket, clutched the round metal discs into his hand and held on to them tight, feeling the edges pressing into the palm of his hand. Now, he slipped them back into his pocket for the last time and
turned to Alpha Team.

  Colby emerged from the shadows and walked across the floor, his footsteps making the softest of sounds and the Glock still in his right hand, just in case Binky had friends. He stopped in front of Warner and put his left hand on the lad’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Colby gave him a gentle smile. “You did good there, fella.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Think you could do that again?”

  “Yes, sir. All day long.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Colby’s face split into a wide grin and he looked back towards Gary and Micky. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new team member, lads. Waddya say?”

  “I’d say he did pretty good.” Gary grinned and rested his M4 over his shoulder. “Mick?”

  “Anyone who can face down a Taint in full yah-hoo mode is good in my book.” Micky nodded and gave Warner a thumbs up.

  Colby turned back to Warner. “Looks like you passed, fella. If those two oiks say you’re good to go, you’re good to go.” He holstered the Glock. “Right then. Get Bravo team in here to do a sweep. Top to bottom. I want this place locked down until we’re absolutely sure it’s clear, okay?” His face darkened for a second. “And get a detail in to retrieve Corporal Moore’s remains.”

  He looked at Warner. “We all lose friends, mate. That’s the way this gig works. You know what you’re signing up for now. You’ve got a missus and a kid. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

  Warner took a last look at the pile of ash that was all that was left of ‘Binky’. A draught blowing from underneath the broken front door was already dispersing the fine ash. In seconds, it was as if the creature had never existed.

  Warner looked straight back at Colby, a determined look in his eyes. He was damned if his little boy was going to grow up in a world where these… things… existed. He’d seen what they could do first hand. His first hunt had gone from VR exercise to horrific reality in seconds. And if it could happen here, it could happen on the streets where his boy played, and where his wife walked.