The Vietnam-era M9 flamethrower was an antique, but Lopes had assured me that it worked great. ASS had refurbished it…which meant that it would either work great, or it would explode and kill us all the second we tried to use it.
Thankfully it worked.
Brilliant scalding fire filled the tunnel, boiling up through the wights and engulfing Susan. The vampire screeched as burning napalm clung to her skin.
Heat smacked me right in the face. It was unbelievably hot. I almost fainted as it sucked all the oxygen away, but instead I just flopped back down, held my breath, and let the MG 3 rip, aiming it right at Susan. I must have hit her fifty times before there was so much fire I couldn’t even see what I was shooting at. Then I just worked it back and forth.
The tank on an old flamethrower like that can go through several bursts, but keeping it sustained like Nik was emptied the whole thing in just a few seconds.
The heat and lack of air in the enclosed space must have stunned me, because the next thing I knew, I’d let go of my machinegun, was dizzy and coughing, somebody got ahold of my ankles and was dragging me down the tunnel. Good thing, too, because I realized that all those dead wights we’d just set on fire were now sliding and rolling down the tunnel on top of us, still ablaze.
My team spilled out of the tunnel. Bell was pulling Nik. Radick had me. Everybody was drenched in sweat, hacking or gasping. If you thought wights smelled bad before, try setting them on fire. Then I had to struggle to my feet and get out of the way as the tunnel vomited out burning body parts and flaming ooze. The fiery, rotting mess spilled into the seawater and immediately gave it an oily sheen.
I glanced over and did a head count. It was darker because we’d lost a couple of flashlights, but everyone was still alive. Justino was looking at me, face black with soot and grime, wide-eyed. Coelho was starting to move again, paralysis shaken. But they looked happy, like we’d just had some success or something.
They didn’t realize the magnitude of what they were facing. “Get ready. Susan’s not dead.”
“But you burned her to ash!” shouted Justino. To be fair, we were all shouting because our hearing had taken a pounding from running machineguns inside a tunnel.
“Yeah. We’ve burned her before. It’s only a temporary setback. She’ll either come after me or return to Ray. Either way, she ain’t done.”
Justino made the sign of the cross.
Now that the tanks were dry, Nik shrugged out of the flamethrower straps and managed to gasp, “That was fun. Just like old times. Reminds me why I retired.”
It would take Susan a minute to regenerate, but hopefully Lopes had gotten the message. Right about now the helicopter should be hovering over the mansion roof. I’d made sure Dinger was aboard for that because I trusted him. Despite his accident in Alaska, he was one of our best climbers, so he’d be the one hitting the nursery windows. I could only pray that Ray was actually there. The rest of our crew should be rushing up the road in trucks. They’d bail out, start smashing out ground-floor windows, and cause lots of mayhem. Vampires couldn’t go out in the sun, but wights could, so hopefully we’d just roasted most of Saturnino’s guards. Once the perimeter was secure, Lopes would bring up a track hoe she’d had her local guys rent, and they’d use that to start knocking more holes in the walls. Sunlight was a Hunter’s best friend.
“As soon as the fire dies down, we can head up to help,” Bell suggested.
I wasn’t going to wait that long. “Grab a rope from the sub. If they’re still burning in our way, we’ll hook ’em, drag ’em down, and dump them in the water.” I opened the ammo pouch and grabbed a hand full of squish. “Nobody freak out. He’s a friend.” Then I pulled out Mr. Trash Bags.
“Greetings, horde of Cuddle Bunny,” he squeaked.
“What the hell!” Radick yelled. Well, they all said something to that effect, but you get the idea. But they didn’t start shooting, which was what mattered.
“Don’t worry. He’s cool. Listen, Mr. Trash Bags. I know you’re vulnerable to fire, but you’re small enough to find a path. I need you to go up this tunnel and go look for Ray. Cuddle Bunny’s Cuddle Bunny. Do whatever you can to protect him. Ray needs to go with the nice humans. The humans are all on our side. Avoid the humans. Don’t hurt the humans. Find and protect the baby. That’s the most important thing. The vampires and undead are the bad guys. Hurt them all you want.”
“Eat noses? Eat toes? Consume?”
“Exactly. But only the bad guys. Got it?”
“Consume!” Mr. Trash Bags agreed with great enthusiasm as he leapt out of my hands and bounded up the tunnel. If it were possible for a shoggoth to be gleeful, this was it. I’d basically just given him a license to kill.
Bell came back from the sub, and he’d done me one better than a rope. He had a telescoping pole with a hook on the end. Probably for docking purposes. “I’ll start clearing a path.”
“If it’s still moving, yank it down, and then somebody else hack its head and hands off. It’s the teeth and claws that get you. And remember, they don’t need to be attached. Just ask Coelho. At least one of you stay on lookout with a gun pointing down that tunnel in case Susan comes back.”
While my guys went to work, I tried my radio again. Lopes’ channel was still just static. So I went back to the sub, hopped across, and climbed down the hatch. I landed with a splash. There was about a foot of water in the bottom now.
“Are you gonna sink?”
“It’s fine. We’ve got a pump.” Even though he looked like he wanted to complain because I was getting undead blood all over his submarine, making it smell like death and smoke instead of oil and fish, the captain immediately handed me the radio.
I only had to listen for a few seconds to tell things weren’t going according to plan. The nursery had exploded.
At first I had a panic attack, like somehow we’d screwed up and accidentally launched a rocket at Ray’s room or something. But from the furious shouting back and forth, it sounded more like it had been a booby trap. Then I realized Lopes’ people had interviewed the workers who’d dropped off the crib. Only Susan had been one of us. Even if she’d not suspected that ASS was on to Saturnino, she’d still be paranoid. Humans had gotten a glimpse into her terrain and lived to talk about it. So of course she’d switch it up and move Ray somewhere else, then set a trap just in case.
That sneaky bitch.
I’d been too tired and too rushed to see that coming. From the air, Lopes couldn’t tell what shape the guys who’d tried to enter the nursery were in—maybe dead, but at least badly injured. That was my fault.
And that meant Ray was hidden somewhere else inside the mansion. And in short order Susan would be healed up and heading his way. I dropped the radio microphone, leaving it dangling by its cord, and headed back up without another word.
Chapter 25
Luckily most of these wights were so old and dried out that that they didn’t burn for long. Set a recent undead with a lot of fat on them on fire, and those could burn for hours. The skinny ones not so much. So it was only a matter of minutes before we were able to go up the tunnel again.
And it was horrible.
In Newbie training, we have an event called the Gut Crawl. The nastiest bit of psychological torture we do, it’s basically making our people crawl through a long, dark, muggy pipe, which has been filled with aged cow guts and entrails. It’s gross. It’s messed up. And it’s designed to weed out those too squeamish for monster hunting. At times Milo has actually handed out coins and certificates to people who made it through that declared: “I survived the Gut Crawl.”
This was that times a thousand. Because at least in the Gut Crawl, the stuff you were crawling through wasn’t half burned and still twitching.
I took point. No matter how awful this was, it didn’t matter, because on the other side was my baby. Plus, if Susan attacked, better to hurt me than anyone else. They were here because I’d asked them. While the other guys had to st
op to gag and puke, I just had to think about Ray, and then I could keep going.
My machinegun had been buried in flaming undead. When I’d found it, the action was covered with baked-on gore to the point it was sure to malfunction, and I didn’t have time to clean it. Plus it was a cumbersome pain in the ass and Susan wouldn’t be dumb enough to come straight at us again, so I’d left it. I’d grabbed a spare paratrooper carbine from the sub and had that slung over my back. I made my way up the tunnel with pistol and mounted flashlight in one hand and a borrowed tomahawk in the other. Whenever anything stuck to the wall reached for me, I’d hack it until it stopped.
I was wearing some of the replacement glasses Management had gotten me—the sporty, safety-goggle kind—but nasty crap kept dripping from the ceiling and getting all over them, and I didn’t have time to stop and clean it off. I was covered in slime, wight chunks, and burnt hair.
The tunnel flattened out and got wider. The walls went from rough stone to ancient crumbling bricks. From the looks of things, this is where they stored their wights. There was a big doorway. Our lights revealed that the other side opened up into an old, unused wine cellar. We’d reached the mansion’s basement.
My team immediately took up defensive positions while I tried my radio. Without all that ground in the way, I actually got some reception.
“Come in Lopes. This is Shackleford. We’re out of the tunnels and in the basement.”
Lopes replied, but I missed half the words from the static. She was trying to update me but it was something about unexpected resistance.
“Say again, Lopes. That wasn’t clear.”
“We had to evacuate some injured. Your mother left a bomb in the crib.”
That sounded like something she would do.
“We can’t break most of the windows. I didn’t know Saturnino installed metal security shutters. We only got a couple, then they dropped when the alarm sounded.”
“I installed those on my house. They’re great. What’re you doing now?”
“We’re bringing up the tractor thing you said to rent.”
Good. Because nothing could rip the wall off a house like a big steel bucket on the end of a powerful hydraulic arm. Explosives were faster, but that meant more danger for Ray. The best way to hunt vampires was to tear the place apart, brick by brick, letting in light until you found where they were hiding.
“Whoa,” said Nik as I started walking into the wine cellar. “Hang on. Where do you think you’re going?”
I pointed toward the ashen trail visible on the floor. Mr. Trash Bags had gotten really filthy climbing over the burned wights so it was easy to see which way he’d gone. “I told him to find the baby, so that’s what he’ll do. He’s not super sharp, but he’s committed.”
“The plan was for us to guard the tunnel until they clear the upstairs,” Justino protested. “It’s the only way the vampires can escape during the daytime.”
“It’s the only way ASS knows of,” I snapped. “You didn’t know this place had armored shutters and a small army of wights either. It’s obvious Saturnino has been making improvements. If there’s another secret way out of here, we’ve got to find Ray before Susan sneaks him out. We can’t just stand here picking our nose while she does.”
“We have our orders,” Justino insisted. “You can go ahead, but ASS must hold this position!”
I got on my radio. “Come in, Captain Pereira.”
“This is Pereira.”
“Is your sub still seaworthy? No bullshit assessment.”
“Yes. We can make it back out. Eh, and it is better to sink off the beach than down here anyway. Easier for salvage.”
“Good. Unload all your explosives. Get out of there, and then collapse the cavern. Blow it to hell.”
“Understood.”
I put my radio back in the pouch and glared at Justino. “Position held. Now let’s go.”
The kid didn’t argue. Susan might be able to shape-shift into mist and float through the cracks, but Ray couldn’t, and he’s what mattered. We started following Mr. Trash Bag’s trail.
“Keep moving. I’ve got point. Nik in the middle.” In a situation where you were dealing with creatures who could pluck your limbs off, you really wanted to try to keep your doc in one piece. “Justino and Coelho, bring up the rear.”
“But—”
He probably took it as an insult. It must have been a Latin thing. “I guarantee there’s going to be sleeping vampires down here, and we can’t stop to clear every possible hiding place. They’re going to be waking up and coming after us, so shut up and watch our six. Debate with me again and I’ll shoot you in the kneecap and leave you for the vampires.”
Justino nodded. Good.
“I don’t know what the deal is with your little blob thing, but this beats wandering around in the dark,” Bell said. “Is he like a bloodhound?”
“I don’t even know if he’s got a nose.”
We moved quickly across the basement. The place was a dusty, cobwebbed mess. Of course, if there were any lights down here, they were all off. There were piles of old furniture and boxes. Not having the time to search through the junk meant that we could be passing by vampires who’d rise up to hit us from behind, but there just wasn’t time. This was a hostage rescue first and eradication mission second.
In the next room we found where the vampires fed. Everybody winced when we shined the light into the hole in the foundation and saw what was there. I’d been hoping for survivors. There weren’t any. From the condition of the bodies, I figured that after Susan had returned from the auction, she’d had a celebratory feast. We’d have to come back here later to chop all their heads off so they wouldn’t come back.
There was a loud crash from above. It shook dust from the ceiling. Lopes had started ripping off the walls. “The more daylight up there, the more it’s going to force the vampires our way. Get ready.”
Mr. Trash Bags’ trail went right past the feeding pit and toward the stairs. I kept the stubby Galil shouldered as I moved in that direction.
Someone leapt down the stairs, and when I say leapt, I mean they covered the last ten steps in one jump, and landed in a crouch like it was no big deal. He was wearing black attire, like a butler. “Vampire!” I shouted, which was confirmed when he raised his face, opened his mouth crazy wide, showed us his fangs, and hissed.
Then we blasted him.
Only four or five of us had an angle, but we lit that vamp up. He twitched and jerked as dozens of bullets ripped through his body. He crashed back against the wall. Dust and chunks flew.
The thing about vampires, they’re tough and they heal crazy fast, but if you damage them enough, you can overwhelm them. Then while they are recovering you can take them out permanently.
“Cease fire, cease fire. Radick, stake. Bell, chop.” I pulled the tomahawk I’d been using in the tunnel from my belt and tossed it to Bell. “Everyone else, cover your zone.”
The vampire was still struggling to rise, but we’d pulverized too many bones. Black blood was squirting out his chest and neck. I reloaded, but moved past the temporarily helpless vampire to cover the stairs. Bell grabbed it by the legs and dragged it away from the wall. It flopped over on the concrete. Radick kicked it in the shoulder to flip it onto its back, and then immediately rammed a sharpened stake right into its heart.
The thing let out a terrible wail, but once staked, it stopped them from regenerating and left them pretty much helpless. Which was good, because then Bell started hacking through the neck with impunity. It only took him two enthusiastic tries before the head went rolling away.
From the way the Portuguese guys were staring, they’d never seen anybody take down a vampire that fast and smooth before. That’s right, ASS, these are our Newbies. That’s why MHI is number one. “Quit gawking and cover your zones.”
And I swear, the instant I said that, a vampire rose up behind Justino. He screamed as its claws sunk into his shoulder.
I
simply reacted and shot it right between the eyes. It was so close my bullet actually cut a bloody crease out of Justino’s ear. Not bad, considering the first time I’d used one of these was today.
The vampire lurched back as half the contents of its skull sloshed out. Got to give the kid credit, Justino leaned forward, and then side-kicked the vampire in the chest. As it stumbled away, Coelho started shooting it. And when Justino fell down, everybody else had a shot too.
It was a near perfect repeat of the first vamp we’d dropped, only this time Nik was busy trying to stop Justino’s bleeding, and Coelho and Anuncio were clumsy as hell on the stake and chop. Coelho had to jab it in the chest like four times before he got it through the heart, and then Anuncio awkwardly sawed its head off while it flopped around.
Still, thirty seconds after it had appeared, everybody from ASS was sitting on the ground gasping for air, and one of them was moaning in pain. Justino had four, perfect, finger holes in his shoulder.
“It’s bad,” Nik warned. “He needs evac.”
There was more crashing and shooting upstairs. The whole mansion shook. Walls were coming down and Hunters were coming in. “Okay, get him up. We’ve got to get him outside. Warn Lopes we’re coming out.”
We rushed up the stone steps.
On the first floor, it was pandemonium. There was a massive great room with a spiral staircase leading to the upper floors. The front entryway was gone, and in its place was a massive jagged hole. Hunters were using the stone pillars on the porch for cover. The Portuguese ones were dressed all in black. Mine were the ones with load-bearing vests tossed over Hawaiian shirts.
Suddenly a giant orange chunk of steel tore through the wall. Wooden beams burst. Steel shutters fell and glass shattered. Pipes split and sprayed water. More sunlight came inside. There was a beeping noise as the track hoe was put in reverse, to move to another wall.
Inside, crouched behind the furniture, were the defenders. You could quickly tell the vampire servants apart from the enthralled humans, because the vamps were the ones steaming and screeching as sun from the new hole hit them. The humans were the ones busy shooting at my people.
Monster Hunter Guardian (ARC) Page 33