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

by Rick Gualtieri

  Eric’s job had been a simple one: make sure those assholes got out of his state. How hard was that to follow? Yet, for some reason, none of them were answering his calls. He’d sent a police cruiser back to the university to check on them, but there was no sign of his people, Jenner, or any of them, for that matter.

  Jonas supposed it was possible they were doing their job and escorting the so-called Crypto-Hunter back to whatever fucking rock he’d crawled out from under. But why the radio silence, and to him of all people?

  It made no sense unless something had gotten fucked up and Eric was trying to clean up a mess without his knowing.

  Stupid son of a bitch. He’s not paid to think!

  Jonas considered his options. He could get out in front of this and order a press conference, but that was likely to lead to several uncomfortable questions, especially since he’d welcomed Jenner as a celebrity guest just a few days ago.

  The press would likewise get wind of any APBs put out.

  He knew he should probably trust his men to do their job, but the current silence was enough to drive him nuts.

  Jonas poured another drink and tried to convince himself that all of this was nothing. What could a second-rate TV star do to him, even one with connections in Washington? There was that reporter, but she’d already been warned. He had no problem stepping on her if she made even the slightest peep in his direction.

  It was probably nothing to worry about. Definitely nothing that could hurt him or his chances for reelection. It was a minor blip on his radar. Something to distract him from the bigger issues plaguing the state, nothing more.

  But, try as he might, something in the back of his head worried him about this situation.

  Much as he hated to admit it, he found himself hoping that the silence continued indefinitely. That nothing was ever heard again of either party, but especially from Jenner and his team. If they went missing without a trace, it would simply be one more unsolved mystery – something for the next cable TV show to do an episode on, but nothing that could hurt him.

  Yes, he considered, downing a hearty slug of bourbon. Such an outcome wouldn’t bother him in the least.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It was all Danni could do to not grab the shotgun and immediately open fire when the first of the Lesterfields stepped into view. A voice in her head screamed that, after everything she’d been through, taking down even one of them before they could converge on her would be a victory.

  She managed to ignore it, remembering her team’s last hunt and how she’d almost been mauled by the Thunderbird – all because she’d acted rashly. She’d gotten lucky and her teammates had been there to pull her ass out of the fire, but now she had only herself. One stupid move and this would be all over.

  The worst part was perhaps the fact that getting killed didn’t frighten her nearly as much as being taken prisoner again. There was no doubt in her mind she’d used up whatever bit of luck fate had granted her. The Lesterfields were unlikely to give her a second chance. They’d broken the spirits of those they’d captured, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do worse if they were angered enough.

  Danni forced herself to stay her hand. She closed her eyes to the barest of slits and remained still. The hunchbacked man who’d emerged from the woods was a good thirty feet away, his lantern making him stand out like a beacon. But just because she could see him didn’t mean the opposite was true. Let him make the first move, prove he saw where she was hiding. Then she’d act.

  For now, she remained unmoving – no matter how much the mud made her skin crawl, no matter how great the desire to run.

  The man stepped closer and Danni readied herself. If he got close enough without spotting her, she’d use the knife then dump his body into the brackish water. Let his family wonder what happened to him just as she’d been forced to wonder about her friends before learning the awful truth.

  Twenty feet away, then fifteen. Danni was certain he saw her. How could he not? But she knew that was her mind playing tricks on her. She’d learned as much during her training. It was little more than transference, assuming that since she knew where she was, everyone else did, too. But she understood all too well that one could practically step on a properly camouflaged opponent and not realize it. Unfortunately, it was an easier lesson to heed on a training exercise than when one was being hunted by mutated monstrosities intent on rape or worse.

  The hunchbacked man turned her way and seemed to be staring right at her, although she couldn’t tell for certain. His face was in shadow now, thanks to the lantern he held up.

  Danni held her breath, praying that she was right, yet her hand tightened its grip on the knife nevertheless.

  The hunchback started to take another step toward her when a sound further out in the woods startled him.

  He spun, weapon raised, but then blew out a breath as someone else stepped from the bushes carrying a gun but no light source. The hunchback’s lantern was old and dim, but it was enough to see that the newcomer was disfigured every bit as badly, maybe even worse. Half his face was overgrown and misshapen. An exaggerated eye peered out from it, open and staring, seeming to almost glow with a light of its own.

  “Goddamnit, Jonathan!” the first snapped, spitting onto the ground at the newcomer’s feet. “I almost blew your idiot brains out.”

  The second man, Jonathan apparently, pointed off in the direction Danni had heard the scream originate from. He then gestured in some way she didn’t quite understand.

  “Yeah, I know. You don’t have to tell me. Don’t wander off. Gonna be a hell of a show for you all if I need to squat and take a shit.”

  Jonathan again pointed and the hunchback sighed in disgust. “Okay, I got it. Don’t be a prick. Last I checked, you ain’t running the show.”

  The first man stalked off into the woods, walking past Danni’s spot. She could hear his footsteps fading as he headed east.

  Come on. Get going!

  As if defying her thoughts, Jonathan stood where he was and surveyed the area with his strange, bulging eye.

  Danni’s guts compacted and she froze, becoming as still as she could. Though she couldn’t be sure, the deliberate way this bastard was examining the area gave Danni the impression he could see with far greater clarity than the one with the lantern could.

  Despite the unlikeliness of his oversized eye giving him some sort of superior night vision, it seemed prudent to pretend that the boogeymen under the bed were real. Her lungs began to ache from holding her breath, but she forced herself to remain still, willing herself to be nothing more than a lump of mud beneath a rotted-out tree.

  Please leave.

  Rather than do as she hoped, Jonathan turned toward her – his eye, still visible despite the lack of a light source, wide and staring. It was like being stalked by some mythical cyclops. Danni’s heart froze as he took a step toward her.

  He came closer and she began to fear that he’d see her before stepping into striking range. If that happened, he’d have her dead to rights. There was no way she’d be able to retrieve the shotgun before he opened fire.

  Just as her nerve was about to break, he turned and cocked his head to the side.

  He abruptly changed direction, walking toward the edge of the bog where Francis lay. That was apparently what he’d spotted. Jonathan looked down at the body which Danni had cleaned off as best as she could. It had been a mere show of respect on her part, but it seemed now that perhaps it allowed her friend to save her one last time.

  Jonathan kicked at the body once. Then it was Danni’s turn to open her eyes wide, this time in rage, as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and unbuttoned his pants. A moment later, the bastard began to urinate on her friend’s remains.

  Danni would have been happy to let him walk away before this, but what he was doing infuriated her. It was bad enough they’d killed poor Francis, but to show the utter disdain of defiling his body was too much for her.

  Knife in hand, she
crept out of her hiding spot before she was even fully aware she was doing it. The Lesterfields might have the advantage in numbers, but this one was alone, separated from the pack. She crept quickly but quietly behind Jonathan as he continued to relieve himself.

  Sadly, the ground near Francis was little more than thick muck. Silent as she tried to be, she couldn’t completely mask the sucking noise her foot made when she misstepped and came down on a semi-solid patch of ground that was more mud than dirt.

  Jonathan Lesterfield’s head perked up at the sound and he spun to meet her challenge.

  CHAPTER 38

  Chris Hopper was doing all he could to mask his glee at watching Eric’s slow disintegration.

  The guy was a tool, completely unfit to lead a security detail, much less this midnight jaunt through the woods. It was a near miracle that Bob hadn’t been killed outright when their idiot boss had stepped on that trip wire.

  That right there should have ended this farce. Sometimes you just had to suck it up and admit you’d been duped. Mind you, the duping was already an exercise in incompetence – letting Jenner and his team slip away from right under their noses.

  He didn’t like Yarlberg anymore than the rest of his teammates, but knew there was a good chance there would be some turnover when this was done. As the next most senior member, he could claim he’d done what he could, but by the time he’d been called in the situation had already been beyond help. Best of all, it was the truth. No sugar-coating needed. If pressed, he was pretty sure the others would back him up.

  At the end of the day, Eric had no tact whatsoever. That was fine for a lone gig as a bodyguard, but for a state official’s security detail, it was intolerable. The man had made an enemy of Jenner and his people roughly thirty seconds after they’d met. It should have surprised exactly no one when he ran.

  But instead they were out here, tromping through the dark woods with pretty close to zero chance of finding anyone who didn’t want to be found...

  Or maybe not.

  “I think there’s someone up ahead,” Eric called out in a harsh whisper. “Lights down and spread out. Let’s surround these fuckers and get out of here.”

  Hopper spat in disgust. The moron was getting desperate. Probably heard a deer and suddenly got delusions of grandeur. Chances were they’d spread out and then have to spend the next hour finding each other again.

  But that wasn’t his problem. Let his boss dig his own grave.

  Hopper did as told, fanning out. He kept his light low, more to make sure he didn’t stumble over anything like his boss had, but his weapon remained holstered. No way was he going to be held responsible for accidentally shooting one of his own people. He intended to keep his nose clean for this one. When Eric inevitably returned empty-handed, Hopper was hoping the governor would see the wisdom in changing the guard.

  And there would definitely be changes made under his leadership. No more acting like macho assholes just for the sake of it. He’d make sure they picked their battles like adults, not like testosterone-fueled teenagers.

  He was still mentally rehearsing what he’d say in the private audience he planned to request with the governor, so was caught off guard when he heard what sounded like someone walking up ahead.

  Idiots already got themselves turned around.

  “That you, Sullivan?” he asked with no real sense of worry. Even if it wasn’t, what would happen? Despite the bullshit theories the governor had put forth, he didn’t think Jenner was out here playing government assassin. Of course, he didn’t buy the other man’s excuse of what had happened either.

  Chances were the truth was somewhere in between: a bad accident or someone had screwed up. And now Jenner was out here trying to retrieve his friends’ bodies before the local wildlife picked them clean.

  That made the most sense. It was unlikely that anything else...

  “You ain’t Sarah.”

  Hopper spun toward the voice, raising his flashlight. He caught a brief glimpse of a misshapen face – puffy, discolored, and with a massive overbite – before the light was yanked out of his hands.

  He reached for his gun, but his shock had slowed him. Before he could unstrap the weapon at his side, a powerful hand reached out and covered his mouth. Hopper was forced back against a tree, as a knife – sharp as a razor – slid into his belly and emptied his guts onto the ground.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Derek sensed something was wrong long before he saw it. It wasn’t so much what he heard as what he didn’t. The forest, loud and alive before now, had gone dead silent. No crickets, no birds. It was as if everything had retreated into hiding, hoping to remain unnoticed by whatever was occurring up ahead.

  He held up a hand and this time, no one said anything. They’d probably all realized something was off on some level or another in the sudden oppressive silence.

  No, not entirely silent.

  He heard something from up ahead – the crackle of a branch, the crunch of leaves. There wasn’t enough of a breeze to be doing it. He immediately discounted any wildlife, as they seemingly had enough sense to lay low.

  More movement, this time from a different location – even accounting for any sound distortion playing tricks with his senses. Derek hunkered down low, motioning for the rest to stay where they were. Then, as quietly as he could, he sucked up the pain from his injuries and slowly crawled past some bushes to get a better look ahead.

  He was on a small rise, affording him a slightly better view through the trees than he might otherwise have – or it would have if it wasn’t so dark. He was about to look through his rifle’s night scope when he spotted several lights among the trees ahead. They were all held low, but Derek got the impression of two opposing lines converging on each other.

  He raised the scope to his eye for a better look and began to scan for signs of movement.

  It was only a few seconds before a head appeared above the bushes. Whoever they were, they weren’t dressed for the outdoors. Between the distance and the foliage, it was hard to tell, but he could have sworn he saw a tie hanging from the man’s neck.

  Shit! Did that idiot Zeist actually follow us out here?

  Derek wasn’t able to ID the man, but there didn’t seem to be any other explanation. Who else would be out here dressed in a fucking suit of all things? Zeist must have come looking for them upon noticing them missing. He hadn’t even bothered to stop and let his people properly outfit themselves first.

  It was the height of stupidity, but then, the guy’s boss wasn’t exactly a paragon of logic and practicality. He sincerely doubted the governor possessed the patience for a proper manhunt.

  Derek realized he should have been grateful for that. With him slowed due to his injuries, that left Mitch as the sole member of the team who was both fully mobile and capable. Had Yarlberg sent experienced men after them, they would have had little trouble catching up.

  It was fairly easy to surmise that Zeist was probably tracking them via the GPS coordinates that had been previously shared. Reasonably smart, but easily anticipated.

  He was just about to lower his scope and return to the others when more movement caught his eye – something in the bushes just north of the man’s position.

  Heeding his gut, he zoomed in on that spot, hoping it was nothing more than an animal. But then Derek saw a large man step from the bushes, a rifle slung behind his back and a machete in hand. The arm wielding the blade was lumpy and misshapen, as was the rest of the man’s body. There was no doubt in Derek’s mind. It was one of the Lesterfields and he was trying to flank Zeist’s man.

  No, not trying. The security agent appeared to have no clue he was being stalked. Derek watched in mute horror as the agent’s would-be murderer came up behind him, moving deliberately but quietly as well.