SNAFU: Hunters

by James A. Moore

  No.

  No, he couldn’t let that happen.

  He would hunt these damn things until the day he died.

  Terry Warner swallowed hard and nodded at Colby.

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

  The Bani Protocols

  Rose Blackthorn

  Vida waited, crouched low to hide her silhouette. She leaned against a tree trunk, ready at the slightest warning to surge up or forward. Around her in the early pre-dawn darkness, leaves whispered in a fitful breeze. Insects had fallen silent, and songbirds had yet to begin their morning chorus. Still, breathing silently through parted lips, she waited.

  Her heart thumped slowly, solidly in her chest. From a few yards to her right she sensed movement but didn’t react. Tighe was hidden there, as silent as she, impatient at the enforced delay. There was no point in rushing things; he knew that as well as she.

  Something rustled farther back in the black shadows beneath the branches. Cautious steps moved closer, a nearly invisible figure slipping between the slender trunks. Vida closed her mouth and breathed slowly, tuning out the sound of her heart while she listened for the other’s approach. Her hands tightened on her weapon, but she didn’t arm it yet. In this preternatural quiet, even the slightest hum of its activation would warn their prey.

  Stealthy but complacent, the ’ponera weaved through the underbrush on its way to the rift they’d tracked down. Glimmers of pale light glanced off its hard surfaces, and Vida followed its progress with only her eyes. Draped over one pair of the ’ponera’s long arms was the limp form of a child.

  Vida clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring. How many had it brought back here?

  As it neared the site of the rift, Vida heard a rustling from Tighe’s direction. The ’ponera heard it too, and twisted around more quickly than seemed possible. It dropped the unconscious child and charged, amazingly fast. A jagged line of bioelectricity crackled between the prongs of its jutting mandibles, allowing her to see its completely alien and hideous face. A bolt of energy came from Tighe’s position, which the ’ponera dodged.

  Fast; it was so fast! Vida was up on her feet, her hands moving to complete the circuit that armed her rifle. The hum was low, but still caught the monster’s attention. Dodging Tighe’s shots, it jagged toward her. Vida threw herself sideways, twisting her left palm on the tech etchings. She rolled as the ’ponera launched at her. Tighe’s last shot glanced off the creature’s carapace and ricocheted past Vida’s head. The ’ponera fell toward her, two sets of serrated limbs reaching to rip at her. She pulled the rifle up and fired point blank, a dozen projectiles hammering at and then into its broad thorax. The rounds were hot, cauterizing as they passed through; but such rapid fire in such close quarters meant she got the messy end of the blowback. The ’ponera’s momentum carried it past her and it crashed into the underbrush and moved no more.

  “You okay?” Tighe asked, his gun still held at the ready as he stared down at her.

  “Yeah,” she said, turning her head as she spat. “Bug guts are my fave.”

  His grin was wide and white. He didn’t comment, just reached out a hand to pull her up. “Nice center mass.”

  “Huh.” Vida slid her hands on the tech etchings, matching her techtatts to the corresponding designs. In response, the rifle powered down and fell silent. “Hard to miss that close.” She turned from the dead ’ponera and back to the limp form of the child. “Medic?”

  “Here.” Rakehall appeared and knelt near the unmoving kid. He dropped a satchel on the ground beside him and turned the child over, revealing the slack features of an unconscious boy no more than nine years old. “Heart’s beating, and he’s still breathing,” he said softly as he checked the kid out.

  “All clear.” The voice on the comm was Bronze, calling out from the rear.

  “We’d better check the rift.”

  Vida nodded, leaving the kid to Rakehall’s capable hands. She and Tighe continued to the site of the rift, where the ’ponera had been headed with its prize.

  “You got it?” Tighe asked.

  Vida knew what lay behind the question; closing a rift was big juju, and they’d been on the move for two days with no rest and little food.

  “Absoliman,” she said, answering in her mother’s language. Absolutely. She let her rifle hang on a strap over her shoulder and faced the thin spot in the fabric of reality. They had tech to find it, define it; but she could feel it, with the senses she’d inherited from both mother and father. Still and silent, she measured her breath and slowed her heart. When she was ready, she played origami with her fingers, meshing and rearranging her digits to line up the corresponding lines and geometric designs of the techtatts that covered her browned skin from fingernails to shoulders. When the proper channels were matched, the tech implanted within the designs glowed unearthly blue.

  Before her the rift became visible, a ragged rip in the world appearing like a tear in thin silk. Vida moved, her hands dancing in slow-motion gestures, her tattoos sliding against then matching up with each other in odd ways that reminded her of a puzzle box she’d once seen. With no sound or fanfare, the rift shrank and sealed itself. When the last unearthly blue faded away, the sky had begun to lighten.

  Vida turned back to Tighe. “Fini,” she said, and tiredly rubbed her palms against her dirty trousers. Finished.

  “Let’s get back, and get some sleep. We’ve all earned it.” Tighe touched her shoulder lightly, and Vida saw him flinch, expecting but not feeling a shock of electricity.

  “The boy?”

  “Rakehall’s got him.”

  She nodded, so exhausted she could have dropped right there and fallen asleep. Instead, she began the two-mile hike back to where they’d parked the trucks. She could rest when she reached them.

  ***

  Warm sunlight like golden syrup poured through the open door, pooling on the plain wooden floor. Soft humming and the sound of waves filled the otherwise silent room. The rich tone of the voice made Vida smile, and her mother said, “Reveye pitit anvi dòmi.” Wake up sleepy child. “Your papa will be home soon.”

  Vida opened her eyes, not to the small familiar house near the sea, but to the warehouse where the Bani were currently headquartered. The cot she lay on was hard and uncomfortable, but she knew she’d slept for several hours. She sat up, rubbing her face tiredly. Not far from her, Tighe and Bronze were consulting maps on a large display. The area around their current location was clear, but there were blinking lights in at least three other places Vida could see from where she sat.

  “You’re awake.” Aio appeared with a cup of coffee, which she held out. Her bright red shirt and the multicolored flowered band in her long hair was a contrast to all the drab greys and greens everyone else in sight was wearing. “I was starting to worry.”

  “How long?” Vida asked, taking a cautious sip of coffee. It had obviously just been poured, and was scalding hot.

  “Twenty-six hours, give or take.” Aio sat on the cot beside her, and slid her fingertips along the intricate tattoos on Vida’s arm. “You’re pushing too hard.”

  “Had to,” Vida replied, enjoying the gentle touch. “Did we save the kid?”

  “Yes.” Aio moved her hand from Vida’s arm to her cheek, and gazed at her seriously. “You’re pushing too hard. I thought you’d sleep for a week.”

  “We do what we do.” Vida’s mantra and her only explanation to those who questioned her actions or her motives. We do what we have to do, what we need to do, what we want to do… Any and all of the above.

  “We’re heading out tonight,” Aio said, pulling away. “Tighe said we’re getting reinforcements.”

  Vida nodded. After losing Chen on the last job, and Jensen and Sant a month before that, they were seriously short-handed. “When?”

  “Any time now.”

  “I need a shower.” Vida handed the coffee back to Aio and stood, ignoring stiff muscles and assorted bruises. She leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Aio�
��s temple then headed for the bathroom.

  * * *

  Nate Harris walked into the open bay door of the rundown warehouse without being stopped or challenged once. He gritted his teeth, irritated at the lax security, and wondered again if he wanted to get involved with this off-the-books unit.

  Inside, he halted to get a good look around. Several well-used vehicles were parked on the right side of the large open space. At the back of the room were cots and makeshift dividers for some semblance of privacy. To the left stood tables loaded with computer equipment and other electronics. Two men, both in their late twenties or early thirties, were engrossed in the display before them. Behind them were two women, both seated and bent over one’s outstretched arm. As Harris crossed toward the ersatz command center, he watched the women, curious as to what they were doing. The thinner one with her arm held out was absolutely still, allowing him to see the intricate black tattoos that covered her brown skin. The other woman, more voluptuous and dressed in bright clothing, used some kind of device to lift and insert a glowing blue filament into the first woman’s outstretched forearm.

  “I’m looking for T. Lane,” he said, and both men at the table looked up.

  “Good, you’re here.” The man who spoke had a red tinge to his hair and beard, and direct blue eyes. “I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.” He glanced at the man beside him, adding, “Get Rakehall on the line. Tell him we’re loading up.” He came around the laden tables then and said, “And the name is Tighe. You go by Nathan?”

  Harris shook his head, nonplussed at the way this unit was run. “Nate, actually. You realize I got in here with no one even noticing.”

  Tighe grinned. “Not likely.” He nodded back toward the open bay door as two cats sauntered in. They were similar in size to a leopard or cheetah, standing two-feet tall at the shoulder and over five feet in length, but resembled short-hair domestic cats. They were both sleek and muscular, the color of burnished pewter. When they looked at Harris, he saw their eyes were a vivid clear peridot in color. “Esfir and Faina, our sentries. They let us know you were coming when you were still half a mile out.”

  “What are they?” Harris had worked some strange operations in his time, which was why he’d been recruited to this top-secret and autonomous unit; but he’d never seen anything like these cats.

  “Special breed, out of far-eastern Russia. They’re called Cobalts, and they’re probably as smart as you and me.” While Tighe spoke, the two enormous felines padded toward the back of the warehouse where they were met by two girls. “Kai and Tchaz,” Tighe went on. “They’re with the Cobalts. You can get a formal introduction later.”

  Harris nodded, dropping the pack he’d held on a strap over his shoulder. “So, where do you want me?”

  “We’re heading out tonight, so don’t waste time unpacking,” Tighe said, leading him over to the two women who were still intent in their strange occupation. “This is Vida and Aio,” he said, and the women looked up. “Aio’s our biotech specialist. You have any problems with any implants she’s the one to talk to.”

  Aio smiled, looking Harris up and down once with what might have been appreciation then went back to what she was doing.

  “Vida’s our secret weapon. Stress on weapon,” Tighe went on, and laughed when the woman made an obscene gesture with her free hand. Her other hand gripped the arm of Aio’s chair tightly, muscles bunched in her arm as a glowing filament was carefully fed into her skin.

  The blackline tattoos were stylized and intricate, and different sections glowed or faded with electric blue as Harris watched.

  “As soon as they’re finished, we’ll start loading gear,” Tighe said. “Until then, you can read up on the mission. Questions will have to wait until later.” He pointed to a tablet lying on a table past where the women sat, then left Harris to his own devices.

  “Rakehall and Sig are on their way back,” Vida said, her words directed to no one in particular. “That gives you less than half an hour.” She might have meant Harris’s reading assignment, or Aio’s delicate work on her arm.

  As predicted, less than thirty minutes later the rest of the team arrived at the warehouse. Harris had skimmed the info on the tablet, making an effort not to make sounds of disbelief – it read more like science fiction than operational orders. From his peripheral vision he’d studied the women, Vida in particular. She appeared to be average height and weight with medium-brown skin between the multiple tattoos. Her black hair was braided to one side, revealing that it was shaved above her left ear. More of the ubiquitous tattoos traced the skin there. Her eyes, when she looked up, were a pale blue-grey, almost the same color as the Cobalt cats. Harris wondered what the ink and implants were for; he’d seen nothing about them in the document he was reading.

  As soon as the last of the group arrived, everything changed. The computer equipment was packed up and loaded in the trucks, as well as food supplies, clothing and weapons. The two younger girls were busy tending to the Cobalts, but everyone else lent a hand to the grunt work. By the time dusk had begun to steal the light from the sky, they were ready to leave.

  “You can ride with Sig,” Tighe called to Harris, and now he rode shotgun with the big Scandinavian.

  The vehicles, fully loaded with all their equipment, pulled out of the warehouse single file and headed to their next destination.

  “Welcome to the rabbit hole,” Sig said with a wide, white grin, “Things’ll just get weirder for you from here on out.”

  “Great,” Harris replied, wondering again why he’d agreed to this assignment.

  * * *

  Their next temporary base of operations wasn’t nearly as spacious or comfortable as the warehouse. Instead, they set up shop out of the transport trucks themselves. Makeshift tents were erected, and bathroom facilities consisted of portable chemical toilets concealed in dappled canvas lean-tos. Electronics and computer equipment was set up inside the box truck once supplies were moved out to make room. Rather than a generator, the power source was an enigmatic suitcase-sized container with strange etchings unlike anything Harris had seen before. Until he saw Vida checking her weapon.

  “What is that?” he asked, pointing to the matte black etchings on the stock.

  “Didn’t read the mission files?” she asked, but the corner of her mouth twitched, and he realized she was giving him a hard time. “Tech etchings. The latest sci-apps coming down from research and development. Next best thing to voodoo.”

  As she spoke she stroked the rifle, and he noted the way her tattoos matched up to the markings on the stock. There was a soft click and then a low hum. Electric blue glimmered from her implants and the weapon before fading again.

  “Handy,” he said, immediately seeing the benefit. The rifle couldn’t be fired until it was activated; due to the tech, the only one who could activate it was Vida. Even if someone took it from her, they wouldn’t be able to use it. “So which came first, the tech or the tatts?”

  She laughed, a low rich sound that made him smile in turn. “The age-old question.”

  “Contact.”

  Vida and Harris both turned to see the young Cobalt handlers reporting to Tighe. Harris had been introduced to the girls, but so far couldn’t tell them apart. They were sisters with more than a hint of Asian ancestry, caramel-cream skin and dark secret eyes. Harris wasn’t sure if they were twins or just very close in age.

  “Where?” Tighe asked, checking the display.

  “Here,” one of the girls said, pointing at a spot on the map. “Faina is close.”

  The other girl nodded, adding, “Esfir reports multiple OHs.”

  “OHs?” Harris asked. He had scanned the files he’d been given, but didn’t recognize the term.

  “Otherworld Hostiles,” Vida answered, on her feet. “How many, Kai?” she called.

  “At least three,” the girl said, her eyes going unfocused as she accessed her link to the Cobalt. “Possibly more. She’s not sure yet. The s
cent is so strong it’s making her nose blind.”

  “Tell ‘em to keep back,” Tighe ordered. “We’re on our way.” He nodded to Bronze on his way out of the truck, “You’ve got the comms. Vida, Nate, Sig – with me.”

  “Vida.”

  She paused in gathering her weapons, and Nate watched as Vida met Kai’s dark eyes.

  “There’s something out there beside the ’poneras,” the girl said, a note of worry in her soft voice. “Esfir is confused. She’s not sure what it is. She says it smells bad, worse than the usual.”

  “Stay on the comms, close to Bronze,” Vida said, touching the girl’s shoulder lightly before motioning Nate to follow the men. “You let us know what the cats see, but keep them safe!”

  Nate frowned as Kai went back to the truck and leaned against her sister, their heads together as though they might be whispering.

  “What?” Tighe asked as Vida climbed into the SUV beside the man.

  “Something bad,” she replied, but did not elaborate.

  * * *

  Harris checked the time. It was just after twenty-two-hundred hours. He shifted, careful not to make any sound. The sky was mostly clear, with only a few thin, ragged clouds scudding across the star-filled vault. The moon had yet to make an appearance, but in the clearing beyond the stand of trees where he waited, it was still light enough to see.

  “Report.”

  The word was softly spoken, the bud in his ear making sure the sound didn’t travel. Just as softly, he replied, “Nothing so far.”

  Sig’s voice, deep and pleasant, said, “All clear.”

  “Movement.” Vida’s voice was rich, even over the ear-bud.