Monster Hunter Guardian (ARC)

by Larry Correia

  With the hostage secured, there was no reason to stay inside. We rushed down the stairs, me carrying a baby, and the others carrying the wounded. There were a lot of bodies in the great room. Human slaves, wights, and the ones whose flesh was melting off their bones were the vampires. My newly appointed bodyguards got us out on the porch. One of them was shouting into his radio that the hostage was coming out. I’d lost my radio nearly falling off the roof.

  Outside, the Hunters had pretty much locked everything down tight. The track hoe was tearing down the next wall while a bunch of men with guns protected it in case any more wights rushed them, though it appeared we’d killed all those already. With a rumble, another fifteen feet of beautiful mansion came tumbling down. The resale value on this place was toast.

  Mr. Trash Bags must have been learning, because when we got around all the people, he slid down into the empty ammo pouch and hid.

  There were several ambulances there waiting. It was obvious the poor Portuguese paramedics had no idea what was going on, but all the government men with guns were shouting orders at them. Radick, Bell, Anuncio and others I didn’t know were loaded in, and the ambulances took off with sirens blaring. The driveway had been blocked off by regular police.

  There was a vast lawn, which was now the Huey’s landing pad. The rotors were still turning. Rather than scare him, Ray seemed fascinated by the noisy helicopter. The air hitting him just made him make a gleeful expression.

  As she ran toward me, I didn’t recognize Lopes at first because of the flight helmet, but then she spoke: “Is that your young man? I’m so glad you managed to rescue him.”

  “So am I.” Reaction was setting in. I just wanted to sit down, or lie down and sleep. I was so tired and thirsty I could barely function, but I couldn’t think about myself yet. As much as he’d been crying, surely Ray needed water, probably food too—who knew what Susan had been feeding him? “I just want to get him home.”

  Lopes nodded. “Come with me. This is in hand. For you the battle is over. The last thing you want to do is risk your son now. Come.” She grabbed my arm and steered me toward the helicopter.

  “We’re taking that?”

  “It’s out of ammo and needs to go back to refuel anyway. I’ll drop you at our base. My superiors called. They found out about the raid.”

  “So am I going to get arrested when we land?”

  “No, no. They’re very upset, but I guess some friend of yours called Management paid them enough to not turn you over. He’s sending a private jet there to take you back to America.”

  With the entire team on Severny gone—no, I tamped that thought down. That only made it more imperative I get Ray out of here and back to Alabama. I wanted to be home. Of course, what I really wanted was to be with Owen, to know my little family was reunited and nothing was wrong. But that was impossible, and right then I would give major pieces of my anatomy to just be back in Alabama, in my house, with my familiar things. I wanted to put little Ray in his little bed, and look after him. He was all I had left.

  “What this little man needs,” she said. “Is to be home, and peaceful.”

  I had to cover Ray’s ears as we got closer to the Huey. The door gunner was a young man who helped me in, and then handed me some big earmuffs to put over Ray’s head. Then I put on a set for myself. The gunner petted Ray’s hair and Ray started to cry again, which just tells you how tired he was.

  Lopes sat at the controls and checked the instruments with the sort of glee that made me think she was as crazy about flying as Skippy. “Sorry. No car seat,” she said over the intercom in my headset. The pilot glanced back at me to see that I was strapping in, then we lifted off.

  We got above the trees, turned north, and we set out for the naval base, flying right down the beach. We were only a couple hundred feet up; out the right side was land, and on the left was water. Even though this was the first time Ray had flown, he seemed excited that the doors were open. And it was really windy with the doors open. The kid was a natural Hunter.

  There were some water bottles under the seat. They were the kind with a twist top you could suck the water out of but not spill. I opened it partway and let Ray suck on it, which he did, desperately. I got another one for myself and drained it.

  Ray had a few bruises and scratches, but nothing too bad. This is when I found one of the other convenient aspects of having a mini-shoggoth as a babysitter, in that Mr. Trash Bags stuck a tentacle out of his bag and held the water bottle in position. This allowed me both hands to look for the first aid kit.

  That’s when I noticed something off about the door gunner. I was so exhausted, the sight so odd, that at first I wasn’t absolutely sure what I was seeing.

  Even though the minigun was empty, he was still sitting at the open door, his back toward me. In the middle of his back, right about where his heart would be, there was a bullet hole.

  It wasn’t a scratch. It wasn’t a boo-boo. It was an actual gunshot wound. He was wearing the same black fatigues as everyone else from ASS, and there was blood soaked into the fabric all around the injury.

  I felt as if my entire body had just gotten covered in ice.

  The vampire’s servants had been shooting at the helicopter. Lopes and the pilot must not have noticed when their gunner had gotten killed. Especially since from the location, it had been instantly fatal yet he’d kept on doing his job.

  There were a lot of things that took over dead bodies. In fact, you could say a lot of supernatural creatures were like hermit crabs, looking for some discarded thing to occupy. But there was one thing in particular I’d been dealing with, who’d stolen little Ray from his crib, who’d tried to sell him for profit, who’d run me over with a ghost carriage, and who had vowed to make the rest of my life as miserable as possible, who had a predilection for taking over dead bodies.

  Brother Death.

  I slowly reached for my handgun, only to grab a fistful of air. The holster was empty. That was because Bell had picked up the Sig off the floor and been using it when I’d gone running after Susan.

  The door gunner looked back over his shoulder. With the helmet and tinted goggles, I could only see his mouth, but he gave me a wry grin. He’d shown me the fatal wound. He wanted me to see it. Brother Death wanted me to feel that dread, to know how screwed we were.

  I keyed my microphone. “Lopes! The gunner is Brother Death!”

  “What?”

  But then Brother Death turned, raising a pistol, and fired several times. The pilot jerked as bullets struck, then his head was flung forward violently and blood splattered across the cockpit. The Huey lurched hard forward as the pilot slumped over the cyclic control. Lopes had to fight her controls to keep us out of a sudden dive. Brother Death reached forward and yanked the dead pilot back by the shoulder straps.

  Lopes looked back to find a pistol pointed at her head. Brother Death reached up with his other hand to key the mic clipped to his chest. “Keep flying.” I didn’t know what the gunner had sounded like when he was alive, but it probably hadn’t been with an African accent and a really deep voice.

  I put my hand on the combat knife at my belt, but I didn’t draw it. Inland seemed to be an arid landscape, with groves of olive trees and expanses of straggling grass. If he executed Lopes, we’d definitely crash before I could grab the controls.

  “Remain calm, Julie. If you do something rash, your child may be hurt. I know you are too good a mother to want both of you to die.”

  I was getting sick and tired of people telling me how to be a good mother. “I’m calm,” I lied as I shifted the mic button to my off hand, so I could pull my knife with my strong hand. “What do you want?”

  “We creatures who aren’t protected by man’s law have only one thing keeping our peers from turning on us, and that is our reputation. How would it look if I allowed you to meddle in my business without repercussions? My honor has been damaged.”

  “Spare me your bullshit. It’s obvious you didn’t
warn Susan we were coming. You could’ve protected your client. You must’ve overheard us talking at the museum because you even tagged along to watch.”

  Brother Death laughed. “True. I didn’t tell her. Honestly, it amused me. I wanted to see what would happen.”

  We were crossing over fields with some kind of low-growing crop, which was being watered by a mechanical contraption that was like a long metal pole with watering hoses attached to it. The whole thing moved around slowly from end to end of the field, and for inexplicable reasons made me think of storks. If he wanted us dead, he could’ve just shot both pilots or set off a hand grenade. Brother Death must have had a plan.

  “Your buyer’s dead,” I said. Though perhaps “croaked” would be more accurate, because the voice that came out of me was strangled by fear. I was trying to sound confident and normal, but my body wasn’t cooperating. Keep in mind we were having this conversation via intercom and headset, because there’s way too much rotor wash to speak normally.

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. Susan Shackleford didn’t become the second biggest noise in the vampire community in only a few short years by being easy to kill. She’ll be back. If I take either of you alive, maybe she’ll even have another opportunity to bid for your lives. You thought you could cheat me, escape my dungeon, embarrass me in front of my clients and there would be no punishment? That was foolish.”

  “What have you done with Andre?” Lopes demanded. That must have been the gunner’s name.

  “Catch up, fool. He died ten minutes ago. Since you are the ones in charge of patrolling one of the countries I like to make my home, I’ve sunk my hooks into various people within your Agencia de Segurança Sobrenatural. That’s how I knew you would be at the museum. When I overheard your scheming, I knew I simply had to watch. When this one was killed, I saw my opportunity and took it.”

  From the way she kept nervously glancing back, I could tell that Lopes was thinking about trying something, but sadly I didn’t know what that would be.

  He laughed, that horrible, smug sound. “You’ll never escape me, Julie. These bodies are just vehicles. You cheated from the beginning, following the artifact to Cologne. You’ve never dealt fairly with me, yet because of your tenacity, I’ve discovered a renewed love for my work. Even now, I can see the defiance in your eyes. You’re trying to plot some way to turn the tables. Only it doesn’t matter. Even if you destroyed this body now, I’ll come at you with another. How long could you escape? Wherever you go, I’ll find you. I’ll be your mailman. I’ll be your son’s kindergarten teacher. Even a mind as paranoid as yours won’t be able to predict my actions. I will take your child simply because to do so amuses me. And once he’s gone, then I’ll come for you.”

  Brother Death was trying to watch me and Lopes both as he spoke. I waited for his eyes to move back toward the front before I drew the knife and hid it behind my leg.

  “I have a new hobby, Julie. You can delay the inevitable, but you’ll never win. I’ll never let you feel safe again. You’re used to being the Hunter, of having creatures fear you? Well, I’m the hunter now. I will never let you feel safe again.”

  And that was when Lopes made her move. Everything tilted violently as she turned the helicopter hard on its side, trying to dump Brother Death out the door. I held onto Ray for dear life as I was flung against my seat belt. Only Brother Death had been ready for that. The gunner had a safety harness bungee-corded to the helicopter, but he didn’t even need it. He held on with superhuman strength with one hand, and he used the other to shoot Lopes.

  “Hold the baby, Mr. Trash Bags!” I shouted as I struggled to unbuckle the straps holding me in place. “Don’t let Ray get hurt!”

  I don’t know if he could hear me or not, but my shoggoth immediately popped out of the bag and wrapped himself protectively around Ray. Tentacles shot out his side and stuck to the wall.

  The sudden change in gravity’s direction had at least thrown off his aim because Brother Death hadn’t blown Lopes’ brains out, but she still cried out as she got hit. I couldn’t get the buckle undone with all my weight pushing against it, so I slid the combat knife inside and sliced right through the canvas.

  I fell across the compartment, collided with Brother Death, and held on for dear life as the beach flashed by below. I slashed the knife across his arm as he tried to shoot Lopes again. The bullet put a hole in the instruments instead of her.

  He hit me. Hard. I jammed the knife between his ribs. Again and again and again. He shoved me back against the wall. I hit the metal, but Mr. Trash Bags had already clambered up the side with Ray, so he was safely out of the way.

  Down was down again as Brother Death started toward me. I kicked him in the stomach and shoved, trying to knock him out the door, but he was too strong. He swung the pistol toward me but I intercepted it with the knife. He seemed almost amused as three of his fingers got sliced off and the gun fell to the floor.

  I dove for the gun, but it was just out of reach. Lopes must have been struggling to remain conscious because the Huey was banking hard left and right. Centrifugal force kept pushing us in different directions. Down was rapidly changing directions. The pistol slid out the door.

  Brother Death’s remaining hand grabbed me around the throat. He hoisted me up and slammed me against the wall. He was saying something, surely gloating or mocking me, like he’d be continuing our conversation if it hadn’t been for this minor interruption, except I’d lost my headset and couldn’t hear his crazy nonsense over the rotor, so I just slashed the knife across his throat instead.

  Glowing fireflies poured out.

  The insects filled the cabin. I saw that Mr. Trash Bags crawled up to protect Ray’s screaming face to keep the bugs from flying into his open mouth.

  Lopes’ helmet was rolling around on her neck like she’d passed out. The Huey tilted hard again as we corkscrewed toward the ground. The glove slipped from my throat as Brother Death fell away. He reflexively grabbed for a handhold, but had forgotten he was missing most of his fingers. Brother Death fell out the door, but then the gunner’s belt snapped tight, and he was flailing around just outside.

  I slid across the metal floor, caught myself at the edge, reached out and slashed the cord.

  The possessed body flew into the rotor and exploded in a red cloud.

  Sad part was, Brother Death would be back.

  But worse, our rotor was seriously damaged. We were now basically a rock.

  All I could do was look over and check that Mr. Trash Bags still had Ray. Not only did he, he was climbing down the wall, back into the safety of the seat, and had grown two more tentacles to pick up the seat belt, and was trying to figure out how to buckle them both in.

  Lopes was either unconscious or dead.

  I tried to make it to the controls, but we were going down.

  I yelled at Mr. Trash Bags to make sure Ray wasn’t hurt.

  We hit the ocean.

  * * *

  When I came to, all I could hear was waves.

  I opened my eyes.

  The helicopter was at a weird angle, partly on its side, half filled with salt water. The windshield was broken. Almost everything was broken.

  I was lying in the water. I didn’t know how long I’d been out. It didn’t feel like we were sinking. We must have hit the shallows. The dead pilot was submerged. Lopes was hanging from her chair, unconscious and dripping blood. A wave came through the front and hit us.

  I thrashed around, searching for Ray. I didn’t see him. Fuel must have been leaking because there was an oily sheen on the water. “Ray! Mr. Trash Bags!”

  “Cuddle Bunny!”

  They were outside. I clambered out of the wreck and fell into the surf. When I thrashed upright, the water came up to my chest.

  Mr. Trash Bags had wrapped himself entirely around my baby, trying to protect him like an air bag. They were floating on top of the waves. The shoggoth was wiggling, trying to swim. Ray wasn’t moving.

  The mout
hs asked, “Cuddle Bunny okay?”

  I was sure, just as absolutely as sure as I could be, that I’d sustained injuries that would have killed a normal person. But I wasn’t a normal person anymore. I was the Guardian. But me living didn’t matter as I splashed toward Ray.

  “Cuddle Bunny Cuddle Bunny not okay.”

  “It’s okay.” I dragged Ray close and kept wading toward the shore. “I’ve got him.

  Mr. Trash Bags retreated. It was like watching plastic melt away.

  I got onto the sand, but Ray wasn’t moving. He was still and very, very pale.

  I’d seen dead people before. I knew what that looked like. And Ray looked dead.

  It hit me like a train. I heard a voice cry and realized it was me.

  “Come on, wake up. Please, wake up for Mommy.” But I knew he wasn’t going to.

  When I touched his chest, I couldn’t feel his heartbeat. I couldn’t give up. I just couldn’t give up. Ray was the only thing I had left. He was the most important thing in the world.

  I’d learned about what to do with an unresponsive baby while I was pregnant, and now I did what I’d been taught by rote.

  Ray wasn’t breathing. I opened his mouth to make sure he wasn’t choking on his tongue, and he wasn’t. There was foam in his mouth, and it was pink.

  He couldn’t have bit his tongue. He had no teeth. He didn’t have any external injuries. I took his little shoes off and flicked the bottom of his feet while shouting, “Ray, Ray, please wake up.” They’d told me if the baby is just passed out, sometimes that works, but he wasn’t breathing.

  Damn it, he wasn’t breathing.

  Baby CPR was dangerous. They were so frail. You could break their little ribs. But I couldn’t see anything else I could do.

  I laid him on the wet sand and put my hand on his still chest. It didn’t feel right. I put the pads of two fingers in the center, just below the nipple line. I compressed, pushing straight down about an inch and a half, and then let the chest return to its normal position. I was so scared I was going to hurt him, but I had to do this. So I did it again. And again.