Monster Hunter Legion

by Larry Correia

  Much like how the mummy had been replaced by what looked like a normal human being, the fog-filled casino had been replaced by a wide-open desert of scrub brush. In the near distance were the shadows of mountains. It didn’t seem that different from the terrain I’d been in earlier in Dugway. After all, in terms of actual miles, we weren’t really that far away. Marcus had been buried not very far from his last earthly home.

  “It seems . . . familiar. Why are we here?”

  “Because I need you to understand that truth.”

  It was freezing cold, but not from the strange energy-siphoning effect of the Nachtmar. This place really was that miserably cold in real life. The wind was howling. There was a dusting of snow on the sand. It was a barren, ugly place.

  “Where have you taken me?” he asked, suspicious.

  “You brought us here. This is what you’ve been looking for all along. I don’t know how to get here, but you’ve known all along, and he’s been leading you astray. The only thing I’ve done is help you get out from under the demon’s thumb. I’m like you.” I didn’t understand a fraction of what the Old Ones’ artifact had done to me, and I hated letting someone else tap into that strength. As I’d been told, everything from the other side came with a price, and I was going to have to pay for this somehow. “The Nachtmar isn’t strong enough to stop us both.”

  He studied the horizon. It didn’t matter that it was dark. It wasn’t like his eyes were real anyway. He could see our surroundings just fine. “It does look familiar.” Marcus walked forward a few feet, squatted down, and poked at something in the sand. It was a chunk of an old bottle. Nearby were a few scraps of lumber rotting back into the ground. “But this . . . This can’t be . . . I know this place. There was a town here. Well, not really a town . . . They were only shacks, but . . .”

  “They’re gone. They’ve been gone for a really long time. I tried to tell you before.”

  Marcus went to his knees and laid his hands flat on the sand. “This feels like the place. I lived here. This isn’t another of his lies, is it?”

  “I’m sorry. This is now. This is real.”

  “This is where I left her. My wife . . . I promised her I’d come back.”

  “But that was over sixty years ago. You’ve been asleep a long time.”

  “It can’t be. That means . . .” he trailed off.

  “Yeah.” It meant that everyone he’d ever know was probably dead, or so old that he wouldn’t be able to recognize them anyway. The world had passed him by. He was quiet for a long time as the terrible ramifications set in. “This isn’t your time anymore.”

  “We’d only been married a year. She was going to have a baby.” The dead man’s voice cracked. “I promised her I’d come back when the war was over.”

  “You have. Not making it in time isn’t your fault.”

  The clock was ticking, but I needed the host to come to terms with reality.

  Marcus stared at the ground, deflated. “They came here and asked for volunteers. Really? After throwing us out of the house I built with my own hands, after taking my father’s orchard away, and putting us out here in a shack that wasn’t even fit for pigs, where the wind blew right through the walls, and I was supposed to leave my wife in that damned shack, and they wanted me to go fight their war?” The ghost stood up and stared off into the distance. “But I did, because I was born in this country. It’s all I’d ever known. I felt like it was my responsibility . . . Did we win?”

  “Yes, we did, because of guys like you. Now listen to me. I need you to do something—”

  “No, you listen to me, stranger.” I could hear the anger creeping in. “When those doctors interviewed me, said they had a special assignment, said I could help end the war faster, and then we could all go home . . . I believed them. Then they drilled a hole in my head and filled it in with evil. Every time it tried to take over more of me, I fought it off, but then they’d just drill another hole.” He curled his hands into fists. “They’ve got to pay for this.”

  “They are all gone. They’re either long dead or about to be. The only people paying now are a bunch of innocents that had nothing to do with any of this. Your wife was pregnant? Well, so is mine. And she’s in danger right now. Some of those people dying out there might even be your grandkids for all you know.”

  That thought took him by surprise, but this was a lot for a ghost to digest. “But how—”

  “I need you to call off your monster. I need you to take him and go back to the dream world.”

  “But I can’t. He’s become too strong. I was trying to keep him in check back when I first met you, but while we were asleep, it’s like he got stronger while I got weaker.”

  “Then we’ve got no choice,” I said slowly. “I need you to die.”

  Marcus stared at me, incredulous. “What?”

  “You’re already dead. I just need you to accept it and move on. If you don’t, he’ll just keep on using you. You need to move somewhere beyond his grasp. You need to move on to the place where he can’t follow. Without your power, the Nachtmar will become weak, vulnerable. It’ll try to take someone else over . . . Probably me. But if it does, they can put me to sleep before it gets too strong, just like they did to you before.”

  “That’s nuts. You don’t know what you’re asking for. The dreams. They never stop. They get worse and worse until you can’t tell what’s real. Don’t volunteer for that.”

  “You volunteered for a tough job knowing damn well you might die, but you got stuck with something even worse. At least I know what I’m getting myself into. I need you to die. We all need you to die, Marcus.”

  “I can’t . . .” he stammered.

  I slowly drew my kukri from its sheath. “Yes, you can. Problem is, if you want to live, you’ll just come back. I don’t understand how this works exactly, but for men like us, our will makes a big difference, and if you give us an inch we’ll take a mile. You need to move on willingly. If you don’t, the Nachtmar will just keep using you, and more innocent people will die. They killed you before, but between your desire and the Nachtmar’s magic, you came back. That’s why they put you to sleep, but the Nachtmar’s done sleeping. You need to die and stay dead.”

  Marcus watched my knife, but he didn’t move away or try to defend himself. He was pondering what I had said. There was steel in his response. “What do I need to do?”

  “Just don’t come back.”

  He slowly nodded, finally understanding what was at stake, and he stood there bravely, awaiting his fate.

  I raised the kukri. “She’ll still be waiting for you,” I assured him.

  Marcus kept his eyes open. “Do it.”

  I struck.

  * * *

  The mummy stood before me in the foggy storage room. My arm was extended. The heavy blade of the kukri had sliced cleanly through Marcus’ neck.

  And then he collapsed. Skin ruptured into dust and the bones fell with a clatter.

  The Nachtmar’s scream shook the world. The fog boiled, furious, away from Marcus’ body, fleeing.

  Killing its host would seriously wound it, but it wasn’t done yet. It would be stunned momentarily, disoriented, probably expecting its Chosen to return to life like he’d done before. Marcus had been its main source of power, its anchor to Earth. When he didn’t come back to life, the Nachtmar would become desperate. The alp by itself had grown strong, but it would need to find someone else to bond to if it wanted to remain here. And why wouldn’t it? Earth was an all-you-can-eat buffet of fear.

  Our mental journey to Topaz must have only taken a few seconds of real time, because I caught Mosh and Holly in the hall. They were pushing their way through the thick fog, heading for the tunnels. “Not that way,” I shouted. “Out the front. We need to find Task Force Unicorn.”

  “Oh, come on, Z!” Holly got the still-stunned Mosh turned around. “First help the dead guy and now find the bad guy? Any other horrific assholes you want to hang out with?” />
  “The dead guy’s gone. Now we just have to worry about the ancient nightmare monster. Piece of cake.” We made our way in the direction of what I thought was the front. At first I thought the fog was dissipating, because it was certainly taking up less space, but when I looked closer it appeared to be coagulating, becoming thicker, slimy. It was soaking my boots and freezing my toes. It was alive, and seemed to be leaking through the floor, or gathering on the vents, searching for a downward path.

  “It’s collecting,” Holly said. “There’s tunnels under here.”

  “I cut off the main battery. I think it’s gathering its remaining strength in one place.”

  “Why? Shit. Never mind. It can’t possibly be good.”

  I hobbled along behind Mosh and Holly. Luckily Mosh was beginning to snap out of it. We came to a heavy, locked door, and in Pitt family fashion, Mosh simply roared and kicked it open. We were on the casino floor.

  “Turn right,” Holly pointed.

  These places were so damn confusing. “How—”

  “I lost a thousand bucks here last night . . . Look out!”

  A man crashed through a glass wall to our right. I flinched away from the stinging glass as he landed flat on his back with a splash in the flowing nightmare goo.

  I didn’t get a good look at what had tossed him, partially because of the bad light, partially because it was made out of nightmare fuel and was rapidly disintegrating, and partially because it had started out looking like an eight-foot-tall bipedal porcupine with six arms. It was so close that I just angled Abomination and fired from the hip. Two quick shots and the creature ruptured like a water balloon. I was splattered with slime, but most of it just oozed away with the rest.

  Mosh moved to help the fallen man. “Are you okay?”

  “No . . . but I’ll live,” the man gasped, obviously in pain. He was wearing armor, but was so covered in nightmare slime that I couldn’t recognize him, but he recognized Mosh. “You!”

  “Oh crap, it’s Ultimate Lawyer,” Holly said. “Sorry about earlier.”

  “Save it. Let’s get the hell out of here first. I can sue the hell out of you later.” Mosh pulled him up. He pointed with one dripping hand. “My team’s over here. We could use some help—”

  “No problem,” Holly answered.

  “We could use some help because someone stole all our guns.” Embarrassed, Mosh handed over the Browning that still had slide-locked open. “You’ve got Mindy!” he exclaimed. “Come to daddy. Did the bad man hurt you?” Ultimate Lawyer promptly pulled a mag from his vest and reloaded. “If you so much as scratched her I swear that I will beat you to death,” he told Mosh nonchalantly. “Name’s Durant. This way.”

  We followed the terrifying attorney to where the remaining members of the Paranormal Tactical team were holding off more melting super-porcupines with bar stools. They’d been split into a few groups, using rows of slot machines as choke points. Ultimate Lawyer broke off and began shooting one of them. I headed toward another of the creatures that had someone trapped behind a blackjack table.

  Armstrong had managed to survive, and I had to hand it to the guy, even if he was a complete prick, he could fight. He was beating the monster over the head with a pipe, but the slimy beast didn’t seem to notice as it pursued him around the table. The two circled around each other, Armstrong was desperately trying to keep the table between them. He saw my approaching glow sticks. “Over here! Help!”

  Because I really am a jerk, I simply couldn’t resist. “I’d love to, but this is way closer than a hundred yards.”

  “Pitt . . .” Armstrong snarled, then had to duck as the monster came over the top of the table. I shot the monster in the back and it burst and sloshed the walls with nightmare slime.

  “Clear!” Ultimate Lawyer shouted from the other side.

  That seemed to be all of them. We were safe for a minute. “Clear,” I responded. Armstrong was on the floor, wiping goo out of his eyes. I extended a hand to help him up. “You can thank me later.” He was pissed, but he grudgingly took my hand. Mostly because it is really difficult to stand up when you’re wearing heavy armor and the floor is slippery. “Right now I need to find Stricken. I know he hired you, so I’m hoping you know where he was going when everything went crazy.”

  “And why should I help you?”

  I pointed at the ground. The slime had congealed more and was now glowing with a faint gray light. It was inching along, leaving moisture in its wake, but the actual substance was escaping. “We’ve got a very limited amount of time before all that stuff gets together and does something really nasty. Your new boss has a secret weapon to kill this thing and I’d like to use it. We can save the animosity toward each other for later when the big nightmare demon isn’t about to eat Las Vegas.”

  Armstrong shook his head. “We have a principal to protect. I have to find him first—”

  “I’ll save you the time.” I held up Abomination and pointed at the butt stock. “I had to cave Dr. Blish’s head in with this. Don’t worry. He was already dead. It’s a long story. But as I was saying, secret weapon?”

  “Uh . . .” Armstrong was looking at Abomination. I realized there was still some blood and hair stuck to it. “One of his men had it. Hang on. Comms have been sporadic since the fog showed up.” Armstrong tried his radio. “This is Swift Fury Six. Anyone read me?”

  “Swift Fury? You guys really do take yourselves way too seriously.”

  But Armstrong had gotten someone. “Where is Command?” he looked over at me. “Because we’ve got something big coming.” I pointed at the floor. “I think from underground . . . Roger that. We’re on the way.”

  “Where?”

  “Right out front. There’s a plaza on the street by a bunch of fountains. Know it?”

  The others had gathered around us. The Paranormal Tactical team looked exhausted. Every one of them was injured somehow. My people appeared even worse. “Ready? Let’s go,” Holly said.

  “One thing first,” I said. This part sucked, and I knew that Holly wasn’t going to like it and Mosh would probably flip out. I turned to Armstrong. “I want to hire Paranormal Tactical for a job.”

  “Wait. What?” The poor guy had been having a very confusing day. “Hire us?”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Holly asked.

  “Whatever your standard rate is, don’t worry. I’m good for it. I got one of the biggest PUFF bounties in history, remember? Two-part deal. First off, send a couple of your men to the top of this place’s parking garage. I’ve got a friend there who might be dead or injured. Get him.” And with these money-grubbing bastards, I felt the need to clarify. “Just to be clear: He’s an orc. But he’s not PUFF applicable, so if you mess with him, I’m not paying you.”

  “You got some strange friends,” Armstrong said.

  “Second part is more complicated, so listen close. Here’s the deal. The Nachtmar is going to come after me and try to beat me into submission.”

  “You? Specifically? Why?” Ultimate Lawyer asked.

  “Because I’m the Chosen One.” Paranormal Tactical shared incredulous glances. “There’s no time to explain. It’s a long story . . .”

  “You say that a lot,” Armstrong said suspiciously. “I’m all about taking your money, but I can’t do anything that would be a conflict of interest with our current contract.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Stricken will love this.” I looked Armstrong right in the eyes. He needed to know how sincere I was. “This next part is important. If it looks like the Nachtmar has won, and it looks like I’ve been possessed, you need to knock me out. Don’t kill me, because then it’ll just go looking for someone else. You need to knock me cold, drug me if you can, secure my body, and then turn me over to Stricken.”

  “Z!” Holly protested. “Are you insane? He’ll kill you!”

  “He won’t.” He’ll just turn me into a vegetable and bury me in a chemical weapons dump. Mosh began to say something but I cut t
hem both off. “It’s our only chance. Hopefully we can just kill it or banish it, but if we can’t then we can imprison it again. Otherwise it’ll keep floating around until it finds someone else like me or Marcus and then we’re screwed all over again.” I looked back to Armstrong. “Can you do it?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I’m down with tranqing you and turning you over to a megalomaniacal nut job so he can throw you in prison. I’m not really seeing the downside here.”

  “And it sounds like we’d get paid twice,” Ultimate Lawyer said. “Wait . . . If you die, how do we collect?”

  Armstrong stopped him. “Naw, Shane. It’s all good. I’d do this one for free . . . But Pitt here is going to owe us a huge favor when this is over.”

  There really wasn’t time to debate it. “Only if I’m possessed,” I warned.

  Armstrong’s big fake smile looked even more malicious when he was covered in slime. “Of course, Mr. Pitt. Paranormal Tactical is the best in the business. You’re in good hands.”

  This had damn well better work.

  CHAPTER 26

  The Strip was entirely clear of the choking fog. The power was out. It was strange to see Las Vegas so dark. The casinos around us were big, silent ghosts. There were some lights in the street, headlights mostly, but from only a fraction of the vehicles, and many of those seemed too dim. There were lots of people out here, military and law enforcement mostly, but only a small percentage of them appeared to be okay. Many were just wandering around shell-shocked. Understandable, since they’d all just gotten glimpses of their worst nightmares. Not everybody had the flexible mind that was a prerequisite for being a good Hunter.

  At least I didn’t see any bodies, so the quarantine line had been spared for the most part. I sure hoped that wouldn’t be changing soon.

  Armstrong pointed out a big, rubberized command tent, similar to the one that I’d seen the MCB use in Natchy Bottom. “That was where Stricken’s strike team was working out of. I’m going to find the rest of my men, I’ll send a few after your friend, and then I’m getting my tranquilizer gun.”