Devil Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 2)

by Rick Gualtieri

  From a young age, he’d known he wasn’t their match physically, being thin and frail where they were brutish and strong. He’d made up for it by becoming book smart. It wasn’t always an advantage in their ancestral home, but it usually allowed him to think several steps ahead of the others.

  That was exactly what he needed right then. The girl’s unsuitableness as his wife gave him an idea. Claiming the role of patriarch was risky. Some of the more aggressive members of the clan might object and he stood little chance of standing up to them. But if he had strong support backing him up, then his claim would be all the more solid.

  “Jonathan!” he called out, playing the role of the authority figure for both his future standing and to make sure the others didn’t run off into the forest half-cocked, opening fire at every shadow they saw in their quest for vengeance.

  His second cousin came loping over, looking at him questionably. Half of his face was permanently swollen, the eye on that side nearly twice the size of the other and possessed of an odd greenish tint. Though it made him seem as if he were always glaring, the advantage was that it gave him unquestionably good night vision, making him easily the best tracker in the family. Alas, he was also a mute, having been born with no vocal chords.

  “Any sign of our dear lost Sarah?” Ezekiel asked.

  The others swore oaths at the mention of her name, their anger palpable even in the gloom. Jonathan merely nodded, though.

  Over the years, he’d formed a crude version of sign language so as to communicate with the rest of the family. He used it to indicate that he’d found a likely trail, one that led to the southeast.

  “Running, just like a scared rabbit,” his brother Ezra said.

  Ezekiel nodded. “So it would seem. Jonathan, take the point. The rest of you, spread out no more than twenty feet apart. I don’t want anyone running off on their own. And turn those lanterns down for now. We don’t want to mess with Jonathan’s God-given gifts.”

  “The hell with that. All we need to do is flush her out...”

  “You mind my words,” Ezekiel snapped at his cousin Lemuel. “That girl is armed. You saw what she did to Nathanial. Do you want to join him in meeting the good Lord? Any of you?”

  The collective response was silence. That was good. The longer it took any of them to get their dander up about him giving orders, the more solid his position would be. Now to add a little foundation to shore up things.

  “That’s better. Let’s get going. Keep your weapons up and your eyes open.” The family began to spread out, but before they could fully disperse, he turned to his nephew. “Noah, my boy, walk with me for a moment longer, please.”

  Noah did as told, looming over him in the dark. He was impressive as always, Ezekiel noted, if a little naïve. It was that naivety he was counting on.

  “W-want to find her. Avenge Pa.”

  “And we will find her,” Ezekiel replied, lowering his voice. “But you shouldn’t have your heart set to vengeance.”

  “But...”

  “What’s done is done. Her blood won’t bring back your dear papa, nor Nathanial, both taken before their time. What we need now is to focus on the future. We’re two men short and we lost a mere babe today. Sad as that is, it’s God’s will. But it’s also God’s will that our family continue. In order to do that we must welcome Sarah, and others like her, back into the fold with open arms.”

  Noah opened his mouth and hissed, low and angry.

  Ezekiel was tempted to back up a step, but he held his ground. Noah was part of his plan, but that plan wouldn’t work if the boy thought he was afraid of him. “None of that now. We must put aside our anger and focus on the family.”

  Noah stopped hissing, changing from menacing to petulant in the space of a few seconds.

  “You thought that girl was pretty, right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Wanted her for yourself?”

  “Pa p-promised me.”

  “Yes he did, but then changed his mind as was his wont as leader.” He scanned the woods ahead of him, then picked up his pace. He didn’t want them to be left behind. “Keep up with me, boy.”

  Noah walked with him, his hitched breathing becoming louder in the dark woods.

  Now it was time for Ezekiel to spring his trap, the one that would ensure that, when the time came, Noah would stand at his side. The boy was by far the strongest of the clan, even stronger than Adam had been. Gifts as extensive as his hadn’t been seen in generations. He was a thing of beauty despite others labeling him a devil. Ignorant fools and their beliefs, nothing more. “I’ve been thinking. I’m not a strong man, not like your pa, but I have a vision for our family. I want to see us not only survive, but thrive. All of us. I see now that Adam might have been wrong in his judgment. Sarah, she ain’t right for me.”

  “N-nuh?”

  “No. I don’t believe she is. That one is wild. She needs a firmer hand than mine to control her, nurture her. How would you like her as your wife?”

  “Sssarah mine?”

  “Yes, son. I think that would be best. You may need to discipline her, sternly I’d say, for her actions. But I believe that once she is properly broken in, she’ll make a fine wife, and I can think of no finer husband for her than you.”

  “Really?” Noah’s tone was hopeful but reserved, as if he was afraid his prize would once again be snatched away. That was just fine by Ezekiel.

  “I mean it. I foresee many sons in your future by her.”

  Noah’s breathing became more urgent, and Ezekiel could tell he was getting excited at the prospect of making those sons.

  “And there’d be no need to share. I relinquish my claim to her. She’ll be yours and yours alone. There will be no question that when she gives birth, it shall be by your seed.”

  “Y-yes,” Noah hissed.

  “But, I need your help, Noah.”

  “Help?”

  “Yes. I can make this happen for you if I take your father’s place. My word will be law and the others will have to respect that, even if they don’t like it. But I don’t know if they will accept me. Some of them might think they’d make better leaders. If that happens, they might decide to keep Sarah for themselves – your Sarah. I would be powerless to stop them.”

  “No,” Noah said, followed by a low growl. “She’s m-mine. Mine.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree, but in order for her to be yours, you have to convince them that my claim is legitimate. Otherwise I can’t help you.”

  Noah rose to his full height, looking down at Ezekiel with his sharp teeth bared. “T-the family is yours,” he said at last. “Sssarah is m-mine.”

  “Yes she is,” Ezekiel replied with a grin. “Now let’s go find her before she slips away.”

  CHAPTER 34

  “Slow down, boss!”

  As much as he wanted to ignore the advice and keep barreling ahead, Eric knew it would be foolish to become separated.

  The ATVs allowed two riders – one in the front to drive, and one in the back to sweep the woods with the high-powered LED lamps they’d liberated from the storage boxes of each.

  I should remember to thank Jenner for those after we arrest his ass.

  That left two of his men on foot, greatly negating the advantage the ATVs gave them in the first place. Eric had been tempted to leave them behind with the cars, but that would have screwed up his plans for convincing their quarry to surrender via way of their superior numbers.

  As much as he despised the idea of walking in these godforsaken woods, the plan was to ditch the ATVs once they found the camp site – after making sure they couldn’t be reclaimed by their targets in case they doubled back.

  Damned things have to have a distributor cap or something.

  Nice as they were to ride on, he didn’t want Jenner’s team to hear them coming. There was also the swampy terrain to take into account. The ground had been getting increasingly muddier the further in they went. With his luck, they’d end up sinking in
a bog.

  He’d been hoping to end this quickly – catch them and make sure their asses got on a plane headed anywhere but here. But now it looked like this was going to be a long slog. Though Eric preferred to end this in a peaceful manner, the longer he was forced to be out in the woods, the less inclined he was to care whether Jenner and his medic were tossed onto a plane with a few extra bruises to make up for the trouble they caused.

  They had just entered a small clearing when Sullivan called from the other ATV, “What’s that?”

  At first, Eric thought it was just a large pile of leaves and was tempted to dismiss it, but then he took a second look and realized it was actually camouflaged fabric – the side of a tent. They’d found the base camp.

  Thank goodness for small favors.

  Eric ordered his men to disembark. They secured the ATVs – fortunately, Hopper seemed to have some insight into that – then checked the camp site to make sure there was no sign of recent habitation. Everything was in good order, having been set up only the day prior, but there wasn’t any sign of a freshly lit fire or that anyone had visited since then.

  “Some decent stuff here,” Bob said after checking things out.

  “Trash it.”

  “What? But I just said...”

  “I know what you said,” Eric snapped. “I’m not about to let them circle behind us, grab what they can, and then make a run for it. Take anything useful you find. Scatter the rest.”

  “What about this?” Muellenberg asked, stepping from the storage tent holding something heavy.

  Eric shined his light and saw it was a professional-grade camera. He didn’t consider himself a petty man, but the bastards had already seen to it that he’d be robbed of a night’s sleep in a warm bed. He decided to indulge in a whim. “Let me see that.”

  Muellenberg handed the camera over and Eric threw it into the side of a tree with a satisfying crunch of plastic and metal.

  He turned back to his men. “Like I said, trash it all.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Was that a tree knock?” Mitchell asked as a distant sound carried to them.

  Derek stopped and listened. Usually knocks came in multiple strikes. After several seconds, he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  “A tree knock?” Julia asked.

  Arthur stepped forward, an uncertain look on his face. “You mean like Sasquatch is supposed to make?”

  “Danni said you watched the show,” Derek remarked with a grin. “But no. I don’t think that was one. Didn’t have the right cadence or duration.”

  Julia let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t jinx us. The last thing we need is for bigfoot to crash this party.”

  Mitchell smirked at her. “Sorry, but you’re a little late for that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s definitely one in the area,” Derek said, his tone nonchalant. “Maybe more.”

  “One what?”

  “A squatch.” He started walking again. They were closing in on the area where he and his team had been ambushed. Just a little bit further.

  He glanced back and saw Julia and Arthur both staring at him.

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Julia asked.

  “Not at all. Mitch?”

  “He’s right,” Mitchell replied. “There was a fresh set of prints about half an hour back. Big fella. Probably male. At least five hundred pounds. Think I heard him skulking about a few times. Pretty sure he’s been keeping tabs on us.”

  “W-what?! We need to...”

  “Relax,” Derek said to the younger man. “It’s not mating season and there haven’t been any reports of aggression from this area. He’s not going to bother us if we don’t bother him. Probably just curious as to why people are tromping around out here after dark.”

  “Are you sure?” Julia asked.

  “Positive. Just don’t accidentally shoot at any big shadows you see. The last thing we want to do is piss it off and give it a reason to choose sides.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Danni put her ear to the ground again. She thought she’d spotted lights in the distance, but also realized her mind, combined with the surrounding marsh, could be playing tricks on her.

  Her heart leapt in her throat when she heard the faint thud of footsteps. Again, hard to tell how far off, but she was convinced they were louder this time, and that meant they were closer.

  Though it was hard to tell in the oppressive darkness, the area she was in felt similar to where they’d been ambushed. She’d found several more snares and trip wires since encountering the first one, drawing a mental map of where they were in relation to her.

  If she was right in her assumption, that meant her team’s base camp was less than an hour away. She longed to run to it, lock herself up in the supply tent, and pretend she was safe, but that was the plan of a scared child hiding from monsters under the bed. The truth was the camp, without her friends there waiting for her, offered neither shelter nor succor from the creatures chasing her down.

  She needed to find a secure place that would give her enough cover to hide or – if discovered – stand and fight. It was time to act.

  Danni had noticed a bog close by that would suit her needs. She leaned her weapons against a tree, regretting putting them down for even a few moments, but it had to be done. Tearing off a section of her shirt, she emptied the shells from her pockets, wrapped them up, and placed them at the foot of the tree where the weapons lay.

  That finished, she turned toward the bog, the waters glimmering beneath the faint starlight shining down from above.

  This is going to suck.

  She stepped to the edge of the water, feeling her feet starting to stick in the thick mud. Then she lay down and rolled in the unpleasant muck – trying to coat every inch of herself. It was cold and vile to the extreme but in a pinch, nature provided the very best camouflage one could hope for ... so long as one didn’t succumb to hypothermia first.

  She coated her skin, her clothes, her hair, every part that could potentially stand out from the darkness of the surrounding woods, until she was certain that only the whites of her eyes could potentially give her away.

  Finally, her teeth chattering from the cold mud touching her everywhere, she clawed her way back to her feet and made to step away from the brackish water.

  A bit of dirt fell into her eyes, obscuring her vision. As she tried to blink it away, her feet caught on something sticking out of the mud and she tripped over it, burying her face into even more of the muck.

  She pushed herself up, silently cursing her clumsiness, and coughed the mud out of her mouth and nostrils.

  All my training and I still trip over a log.

  Except, it hadn’t felt like a log. There’d been some give to it, a fact testified by her lack of stubbed toes. She was about to dismiss it as nothing more than a mound of mud, but could still feel the protrusion beneath her legs and it definitely felt more solid than just a lump of dirt.