Chapter 5
An hour before sunrise, the team retired to the van so that they could watch as the Goblins made their way back into the cave. The fifteen that had left previously came back in, then the flow stopped—and Nathan exhaled a breath he had not known he’d been holding. The count helped him feel a lot better about the ambush they had set up. The team waited another twenty minutes to ensure that no stragglers snuck in, and to give the ones already inside the cave an opportunity to settle down for what they did not yet realize was going to be their last rest.
Nathan followed Sarah to the cave, where they took positions that left no blindspots between them. Nathan had opted to climb a few feet into a tree to have the further advantage of height for his shots that would lead their targets to Sarah, while she had taken a position behind a large rock to the other side of the entrance. She would engage them in closer-quarters than Nathan as he fired at their feet to keep them off balance and draw them to her. She would step in and disable them, so she could hopefully interrogate at least one. If disabling a creature was not an option, she would simply kill it. It was not a hard call for her.
“Hey Nathan,” she said while looking over to his spot in the tree. “I know we think there’s only about fifteen or so of these grimy bastards, but if things start getting crazy, I want you to help me with the kill shots. You good with that?”
“Don’t you worry. I’ve got you covered.”
Sarah also had the trigger for the det cord to blow the claymore. Nathan could see it in her hand from the pseudo-blind he had fashioned for himself in the tree.
She nodded up to him and said into her throat mic, “All’s well, Billy? We should be good down here.”
“Five by five, Sarah. Light ‘em up.”
“Burning the bastards in five...four...three...two...one!”
Nathan saw her click her thumb the trigger, then he felt a blast of hot wind from the cave’s mouth. If that was the result of a less powerful mine than a traditional claymore, he did not want to think of what the big boy would have done to that cave. He wondered idly if all fifteen of the counted Goblins had died in that blast, which meant he and Sarah would have to sit outside the cave while it cooled enough that they could check the burned Goblin corpses. His suspense did not last long; the first of the Goblins stumbled out of the cave about a minute later.
Nathan had his assault rifle at his shoulder with the mouth of the cave in his sights when it came out and waited for Sarah to take the lead in the fight to come. Not wanting to spook the other Goblins on the limited chance that they might huddle inside the burning cave, she waited until it was a few steps outside before her first bullet took the top of its head off with her own MP5 submachine gun. Dark-red blood and pinkish chunks of what he assumed was brain and skull sprayed back into the entrance. Shortly after that one had stopped twitching, a second came out. One side of it had been caught in either the blast or one of the fires along the tunnel because its right arm was blackened and smoking and raw light-green flesh showed where the skin had melted away. Sarah put it out of its misery with a bullet through one cheek, which sent it spinning to the ground.
After those two, more and more Goblins rushed out of the cave’s mouth. Nathan watched as Sarah still take a brief moment to aim each of her shots carefully between them, but the Goblins were getting farther out of the cave’s mouth before she could hit them. A few of her efforts were not headshots and required follow-up rounds to take down her target. Most of the Goblins didn't need much herding before the team’s striker had dealt with them, so Nathan didn't do much more than shoot at their feet, but he lost count after eight Goblins had been taken out. There were many more than that coming out of the cave now.
Sarah kept firing until her MP5 clicked a couple of times to indicate an empty magazine.
“Empty. Five seconds,” she barked into her throat mic to let Nathan know to pick up firing while she reloaded, and how long she estimated it would take to have a new magazine in place.
With a practiced motion, she ejected the mag and had a new one in its place within three seconds. Nathan sighted his target and fired by the time she had finished saying the word empty, but in the back of his mind, he wondered where the rest had come from. He supposed that they might have been inside that secondary cavern, or possibly another one inside the tunnel, but he couldn’t dedicate any more mental energy to that right now. One of the Goblins near to Sarah’s head shattered from the first bullet from her new magazine to confirm her estimated timeline to return to the fight.
As the Goblins were exiting, they were starting to range farther from where Sarah could deal with them, and he had to herd them back to her now that she was reloaded. Thankfully most leaving the cave now were either on fire or looking at least somewhat charred. With only Sarah and himself to take on the two or three dozen Goblins that had been inside the cave, they needed every advantage they could get.
Her shots were coming faster and faster due to the adrenaline of combat, which resulted in her aim getting worse and now required more than one shot to take own a single Goblin— even with Nathan firing alongside her to thin the mass of creatures escaping the cave. With a start, Nathan noticed movement from behind Sarah’s rock as she vaulted to the top and over. She must have seen something, so he stopped shooting and looked around. After scanning the area for a moment, he focused on one Goblin, in particular, a tall bastard at about four and a half feet, with a metal cane and some kind of weird necklaces that laced up into his pierced dark-green ears. With Sarah closing on her target, Nathan targeted anything that might go after her. Taking a deep breath to calm his mind, he aimed carefully and was able to take out three more Goblins.
At that moment, he noticed something that would live in his nightmares for years to come. An Ogre burst out from the cave, still on fire. More terrifying than that its entire back was still blazing was the fact that it barely seemed to notice. It paused when it was in the open to look at the Goblin that Sarah was sprinting toward. The Goblin shook its cane and pointed toward Nathan, and the ogre lowered its flaming shoulders and charged toward his tree.
“Ooooooooh, shit,” Nathan yelled as he braced for impact.
When the gray-skinned, flat-faced ogre charged for him, Nathan tossed his assault rifle out of his makeshift blind and pulled the nine-round shotgun he’d brought in the event of something unforeseen. Whatever he had thought might be unforeseen, it had not been a flaming ogre. Nope.
The ogre hit the tree full-force, and it shattered, catapulting Nathan into the creature’s enormous palm. Horrible pain ran from his ribs to his toes when it tightened its hand around his body, and something in his chest popped—which was literally gut-wrenching. His vision blurred for a moment, and he closed his eyes as his specter tried to heal whatever had ripped inside of him.
Fighting to maintain consciousness, Nathan shook his head and opened his eyes to see the gaping mouth of the ogre about to bite into him. Somehow he had kept his grip on the shotgun, and he jammed the barrel down its maw and fired. The creature shivered after the first shot, but it didn’t stop squeezing him.
Despite the searing pain that each shot sent throughout his being, Nathan continued to fire down the ogre’s throat until the shotgun clicked empty. The ogre had doused its fire when it fell onto its back, and when its grip loosened Nathan fell to the ground—thankfully not landing in the ogre’s internal organs, which were seeping from the mess Nathan had made of its body.
The creature was decidedly dead, so Nathan let the world around him fade to black.
Chapter 6
Nathan woke sometime later to Sarah gently running a hand across his face. It was an oddly gentle gesture from her. He looked around to see that he was lying on the folded-down back seat of Billy’s van. He could feel the minor vibrations of a vehicle in motion, so he assumed they were headed back to Knoxville—or possibly to a hospital, depending on how severely he had been injured. Fire ran from his ribs to his toes, but he took momentary s
olace in the fact that he could still feel his legs.
He asked the question burning through his mind. “What the hell happened?”
“After the ogre?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah, that too.”
“Turns out there was a second tunnel that led deeper into the cave, and there was another nest there. Looks like you put some underbrush in there while I was setting the det cord.”
“Yeah, sorry for not telling you about that.”
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t go much farther into that tunnel. You probably would have run into that ogre, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Fair enough. Am I going to be ok?”
Sarah nodded, but it was a bit rueful.
“I placed the minor healing glyph that I was able to get for this Hunt onto you. It did what it could, which basically kept you alive while I interrogated the Goblin and got you to the van. Your specter and modern science are going to have to get you back into fighting shape from here.”
“So I’m alive?” Nathan asked, trying to smile. The movement caused him to wince in pain instead. “What’s the damage?”
“Most of your ribs and not a few bones in your legs are broken. You’ll be out of commission for a while.”
Nathan grimaced and nodded. It was terrible, but it could have been a lot worse, given how close he had been to that ogre.
“How did the interrogation go?”
Sarah shrugged.
“The bastard said something about an impending assault as he spat his death blood at me. It could be a thing, or it could just be him trying to get in my head as he died. Regardless, I’ll get the info to Dr. Sims so he can run his statistical voodoo to see if there’s more to this than just an isolated incident.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaah, crap,” Nathan said and slammed his head back, causing fresh waves of pain to ripple through his body. “With me out of commission for the foreseeable future, I won’t be able to do the Slithen capture next month.”
“Ugh. You’re right.” Sarah agreed. “We’ll probably have to subcontract for that one, but no good ever comes from getting some yahoo no one knows to join an established team for a one-off gig.”
This is a sample chapter from
Shaman States of America: The Mantle
Please note that this is an unedited prerelease copy and the there may be changes once the book has been released.
(But not too many; it’s pretty much where we want it.)
Edward was sitting on a couch in the Student Center the next day by 4:30. He wanted to make sure that he would not be late to this whole experience. Unsure what to expect, he had not been able to sleep well the previous day and could not focus on his classes. This was, at the same time, both wholly unfamiliar and something that he had been aware of his entire life. Hunters had been a pervasive element of his life because, even though they were retired, his parents were still powered and could still see the effects of the creatures around them. That having been said, he had never trained with any real weapons and had only been on two other captures in his entire life.
Then there was the matter of what to wear. The handler had said to not be too enamored with anything that the contact was wearing. That seemed like a weird comment to have made. What could he have meant by that? Were they going to be going underground? Or to someplace really muddy or something? Edward had decided on some old jeans, a black t-shirt and some running shoes that he had had since his sophomore year of high school. Nothing that couldn’t be thrown out if it got too muddy or whatever.
After he had been waiting for a while, an enormous man with a shaved head tapped Edward on his shoulder. He had been engrossed in his own thoughts and had lost track of time and, surprised by the interruption, Edward jumped and let out a shriek that was decidedly unheroic. The tall man, who wore a black shirt that looked like it was trying and failing to hold the broad shoulders and neck of the man at bay, arched an eyebrow and quirked his mouth in a small grimace. The trimmed goatee surrounding it even seemed to flex at him.
“Never seen a black man before? Damn, man, we aren’t that rare in the south. We’ve been here about as long as white folks have been. You may do well to remember that.” He said in a joking tone.
“What?” Edward said, confused and squinting at the man in front of him. “You thought I jumped because you’re black? No. Not at all. I… uh, just lost track of time and you surprised me is all.”
The tall man shook his head down at Edward, who was still sitting on his couch.
“Yeah, man. I’m not sure if I would prefer you to be unobservant and easily surprised rather than being racist but still able to do the job we’re about to do.”
That stopped Edward in his tracks. He had no idea how to respond to that.
“I’m sorry?” He said with a tilt of his head. “I… uh, this is just my first hunt in a long time and—”
The man, who Edward presumed was Billy Prescott, held up his hand to stop the boy from talking.
“Telling me how long its been since you were on a hunt will not help my confidence in this whole situation that we are trying to establish. Let’s start it over and see if we can get this ship righted. Sound good? I’m Billy Prescott, and I presume that you’re Edward Mauer: son of Stefan and Maria.”
“That is correct. I wasn’t expecting everyone to associate me so much with my parents, though.”
“The fact that they stopped hunting, and kept you from hunting, has kinda been a thing, man. It’s not unknown in the community, and word in The South travels. the Judge knows who you are, whether you want him to or not.”
Edward’s eyes went wide as the reality of his situation settled in around him. His parents had retired a bit earlier than most hunters did, especially in The South where there was a definitely an emphasis placed on lineage and family heritage. Edward had always assumed that what had happened to his father had been extreme enough to warrant a bit of leeway for his family. To that point, Stefan had never actually told him what went down on that hunt. It was readily apparent, growing up, that the already quiet man was very quick to change the subject from his history with the Hunt in general, so Edward just left that alone.
“Yeah…” Edward said as he stood and extended a hand to Billy. “I’m Edward Mauer and, despite my personal history, my family has a long history as Hunters.”
Billy took his hand, and Edward became acutely aware of the strength that this man could draw on. The grip was not overly tight and did not feel like some sort of manhood gauging contest. It was just a good firm handshake from someone who did not come here to play around. Billy did not look much older than Edward, maybe in his mid-20s, but he certainly carried himself as though he had seen some action out in the field.
“I presume that you’re the Striker of this particular party?” Edward asked, trying to further defuse the situation with a smile.
The raised eyebrow and smirk combo caused the goatee to flex again. It wasn’t threatening, per se, but definitely gave off a certain are you serious vibe.
“Why on earth would the Striker meet you for the planning meeting for a sub-in? I’m the Comms person for our party. I plan these things out so that Sarah doesn’t have to deal with all of this, and then we get back together once a final plan is settled.”
“Oh… I mean… I just assumed—”
The eyebrow somehow seemed to climb even further up Billy’s forehead. That, in and of itself, was pretty impressive.
“You’re not helping my first impression, here. We have even tried to restart that.” He lowered the awe-inspiring eyebrow and leveled a firm glance at Edward before articulating the next couple words. “Do. Better.”
Edward took a breath to steady himself and responded.
“That’s fair. I can see how I might not be coming across well. You are right, I don’t have a lot of personal experience, but the handler seemed to know that and still wanted me
to meet with you. I assume that that won’t be a problem here?”
Billy nodded.
“Better. You are correct in that this is not the world’s most complicated hunt. We are to capture a brooding silthen and move it to an outlying forest. It’s not a complicated capture, and so your lack of expertise will not be a problem. How’s your stomach? Can you deal with nasty stuff without puking up all over the place?”
Edward narrowed his eyes at the question.
“What do you mean by that? I’d say it’s pretty strong, but people keep alluding to this basically being a messy capture. What do you mean by that?”
Billy laughed to himself. It was a pleasant, good-natured laugh.
“If you aren’t familiar with a slithen, I won’t ruin the particulars for you. Good stomach, though?”
“Yeah,” Edward replied, keeping his skeptical gaze in place. “It should be fine. What’re the particulars of the plan? Why did the handler say that you would give me a machete?”
“Your primary role in the transplanting of the slithen will be to cut out the tentacle-like roots that it has placed into the ground around itself. Normally, that kind of thing could kill it, but we have a plan for Sarah to help keep it alive after we have extracted it. Essentially, all you need to know can be broken: is there a tendril sticking into the ground? Cut that thing.”
Priming the Mantle Page 2