* * *
The last two weeks of school before the holiday break trudged by without me ever finding the “moment.” I decided my New Year’s resolution would be to ask Ella out, and called the fall semester a bust. The holidays were kind of a bust, too. Christmas passed without a card or call from Dad, and with only two short video conferences with Uncle Mike. He looked fit and stern–Major Tannen had taken over full-time. In a way, I found that comforting. Seeing him acting totally military made me believe he’d stay sharp overseas and keep safe.
Right before he left for Afghanistan, Mike called to talk about the monster program. Mamie was back to watching me like a hawk, so I took the call in my room, away from prying ears.
“So the first hunt went okay, but the knife is acting weird,” I said. “Do you…do you think it might have some kind of power over me? Like, maybe it’s making me faster or stronger?”
“Chief, I don’t think the knife is changing you physically,” Mike said. “You’ve been training hard. It’s just a coincidence.”
“Uncle Mike, did the knife ever hum randomly for you?” I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but I was pissed that he dismissed my concerns so fast. “When you weren’t holding it?”
Mike was quiet a long time. “No.”
“Well, it did for me.”
After another pause, Mike said, “Why don’t you write down every unusual thing the knife does. Then I’ll email the other wielders. Maybe they’ve seen something like that.”
“Thanks.” I flopped back on my bed, stalling. I didn’t want to say goodbye; Mike would be out of contact for several days while traveling and getting settled at HQ. “Have a safe trip.”
“I will, kid. You be careful in the woods. Give my love to everybody.” And with that, he was gone.
I spent the rest of the holidays staring at the sat-phone, hoping Colonel Black would call. A hunt would have broken the boredom, but he didn’t contact me. I probably should’ve wondered about the lack of activity, but I was too upset about Mike leaving to worry about it.
On the Friday night before school started back up, I was minding my own business, watching Mythbusters upstairs in the game room. Will had just come back from a week-long trip to Aspen—his parents’ idea of a good fifteenth birthday present—and we planned to take the ATV into the woods just for fun on Saturday. I was ready to get out of the house and a breakneck ride through the forest sounded great.
Then the sat-phone rang.
I ran to my room. “Archer, here, sir.”
“We need you to roll tonight. Multiple reports of ‘Bigfoot’ sightings have come into the ranger station in your woods—three today alone,” Colonel Black said. “The hikers saw it during the day.”
“It came out during the day?” Nocturnal beasts roaming in daylight couldn’t be good.
“Yes,” he replied. “Thank goodness no one got a clean picture of the beast. We’ve managed to convince the media that what the hikers saw was a hoax, some college kid pranking folks by wearing a Sasquatch suit.” The colonel sighed. “Don’t know how much longer we can keep a lid on the Bears. So far, the only person to get video was one of the victims. The FBI gave us the camera. The Bureau’s been great about locking down the crime scenes for us, misleading the media, but we’re running out of time.”
“Then Will and I need to get to work,” I said, stressed that we might not hunt down all the monsters before someone took a cell phone picture of one and posted it on the internet. “Where was it sighted?”
The colonel filled me in. “When can you get going?”
It was already nine-thirty. “I may need a bit. But don’t worry, we’ll be running in the next two hours.”
“Good. Report when you get back.” Colonel Black rang off.
I called Will. “You up for a hunt?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been bored out of my skull the last week. I’ll have everything ready by the time you get here.” Will was so excited he practically shouted over the phone.
“Good. I’ll grab my stuff and be there in twenty.” I hung up and dug into my closet. I’d gotten one of those plastic storage tubs to store my gear, telling Mom it was for shoes and crap. Hiding things in plain sight worked all the time.
The backpack stayed packed, and I’d charged up the GPS and the phone that morning, just in case. The knife was safely tucked into the front pocket of my bag. Good to go. I pulled my GOR-TEX coveralls out of the tub to get dressed, but someone knocked. I shoved the coveralls back in the closet and called, “Yeah?”
Mamie peeked in. “Were you just talking to someone?”
“Will called.” I smiled, trying not to look like I was up to something.
“Hmm,” she said. Her eyebrows drew together. “Well, I’m going to read a while. Mom said not to stay up too late.”
I nodded fast. “You bet. I’ll…I’ll go to bed in a little bit. Good night.”
“Good night, Matt.” With a suspicious glance, she shut the door.
Hoping that was the only obstacle I’d hit, I pulled the coveralls over my jeans and sweatshirt. After putting on two pairs of wool socks and my hiking boots, I turned out my bedroom light and opened the door. Mamie’s door was closed, but the light was on. I crept past her room and down the stairs. Mom’s office was at the front of the house, by the foot of the stairs, overlooking the front yard. When her chair creaked, I stood on the bottom step, hardly daring to breathe.
A sound, kinda like a cat being strangled, warbled from the office. Ah—Mom was singing along to Coldplay on her iPod. She hadn’t heard me, then. Heck, an elephant could run through the entry and she’d miss it. I rounded the post, headed for the living room, when headlights swept across the front windows. Brent was home. Mom’s chair squeaked again.
I ran through the living room, into the kitchen, then down the little utility hallway to the mudroom, home of dirt-caked cleats, sweaty workout clothes, the washer and dryer and anything else Mom didn’t want in the rest of the house. After climbing onto the washing machine, I opened the window, then threw my backpack out before shimmying onto the threshold. With a lurch, I dropped into the snow drift against the side of the house. I left the window cracked open to be sure I could get back in.
Nobody went into our backyard shed during the winter, so I’d hidden my bike there. The door groaned when I forced it open, but no one looked out the kitchen windows as I wheeled the bike around front. Even with snow on the ground, the streets were mostly clear. The plows had come through early in the day, and we hadn’t gotten a new layer yet. I sped down the road, the wind freezing my eyelids and cheeks, covering the mile to Will’s in five minutes.
He was watching for me and yanked the side-door to the garage open when I pushed through his bushes. “Mom and Dad are at a stupid party until who knows when, so this is good timing. Get in here.”
We packed up in a hurry and pushed the ATV across the sprawling yard. Not easy in six-inch deep snow—we were huffing by the time we got far enough from the house to fire up the engine. But we’d wised up from the last trip. Before we got rolling, we turned off our ringers, checked the zippers on the packs, and put black ski-masks on under our helmets. This time, things would run like clockwork.
* * *
“Dude, does that one look different to you?” Will peered at the Bear through my night-vision goggles. “Something about its body.”
I took the goggles to have a look and got a surprise. “Yeah…are those…?”
“Boobs? Looks like it.” Will smothered a laugh. “I think it may be a girl.”
It was hard to tell from our hiding spot behind a log a hundred yards away, but this Bear appeared smaller than the first few I’d hunted. Its arms and legs weren’t as thick and its fur was longer. I could see the strands blowing in the wind. Its profile was bumpy, too. Like Will said, the thing had boobs.
“That’s not something you see every day.” I zoomed in and watched her pick a bone clean with precise bites. “Wait, what’s
she eating? Those don’t look like animal bones.”
I refocused the scope to get a better look. In the weird, green light of the goggles, I saw a pile of rags lying next to a torn up hiking boot. A boot with a piece of bone sticking out of it. I gagged and covered my mouth.
Will snatched the goggles from me. “It’s...it’s a hiker, man! Holy crap, I see a skull. A human skull!”
Any remorse I might have had about hunting a girl died in that moment. That man-eating chick was going down.
I packed up the goggles and put the knife into my thigh pocket. “So here’s the plan. Let’s get closer, then I’ll stake out a spot in the trees along the trail. Are you up for flushing her out and leading her my direction?”
“Yeah,” Will said, a grim smile on his face. “That’s better than ‘get down, man, and stay there.’ I want in on this fight.”
“I learned my lesson on the last hunt.” I scanned the trees for a good hiding place. “That flashlight trick saved my butt. C’mon, let’s go get her.”
We sneaked closer until I found a spot between two pines that twisted together at the top. There was a gap deep in the shadows, with good access to the trail. I climbed into the gap and wedged myself in.
“All right, ready.”
Will shook his head. “You sure you can jump out of there fast enough? I’m not interested in becoming breakfast if you miss.”
“I’m good. Let’s do this.” I got the knife out and it buzzed. “Knife says go, too.”
“Fine,” Will muttered. “Be on the lookout. I’m not going to stop once she gives chase.”
“Understood,” I said. “Guess all those wind sprints Coach made you run are worth it now, huh?”
Will squared his shoulders and made his way down the trail. This Bear was slighter in build than the males. She didn’t look more than seven feet tall, but her claws were longer and her snout was more angular with smaller tusks. Her dark, shiny coat even looked like it had been brushed. She also didn’t bluster around like the others had. Instead, she prowled the edge of the clearing before sitting down next to a neat pile of bones to finish eating dinner. Her eyes scanned the tree-line before she took each bite. At least there wasn’t enough left to recognize that her meal was hiker stew.
Even knowing she was eating a person, somehow I couldn’t believe this was the “Bigfoot” the hikers had seen. She acted too cautious to go out in daylight. There had to be more monsters actively roaming around here. It looked like we had our full thirteen, just like the other locations did. Not a cheery thought.
By now, Will was in position at the end of the trail. The She-Bear sat up straighter, nose twitching, like she smelled him. After a startled backward glance, he stepped into the clearing. The monster leapt to her feet with a screech that sounded like rusty gate hinges. Will stood very still for a breath, then turned and took off running up the trail. The She-Bear chased after him, shrieking. Will flew by me, a blur wearing camo, with the monster close behind.
I jumped from my hidey-hole, but snagged a toe on the roots growing up between the twisted trees. I fell flat on my face, and the beast tripped over me, sprawling out on the trail. I could hear Will’s footsteps speeding away; he wasn’t going to look back. I rolled fast and grabbed a tree branch to pull myself up. The monster sprang up with surprising grace, spinning around with a blur of claws.
A searing pain slashed across my left arm. The knife flashed an angry green. I stumbled back a few steps, holding my arm across my stomach. She used the time to tackle me. I hit the ground with a thud, my knife arm pinned underneath her body. Her weight crushed my chest until I couldn’t breathe. I squirmed and gasped, trying to work free. With a snarl, she grabbed my shoulders and shook me, banging my head against the trail floor. The knife vibrated violently, but there was nothing I could do; it was trapped in my right hand.
I couldn’t kill her.
Everything got dim. Was I dying? There wasn’t any air. Nothing but heat and fur and weight pressing me into the ground. I closed my eyes. My body screamed for oxygen, but even that feeling was getting far away.
I was finished.
“Aaaahhhh!” A scream rang out in the night. My eyes popped open as a tree branch whacked the monster across the face. She rolled off of me.
Once I could breathe, I got hit with endorphins and everything focused bullet fast. I crawled out of the Bear’s way just as Will swung the branch again, making contact with her paw. She caught the other end and yanked it from his hands. Before I could jump in to help, Will rushed her like she was a quarterback, wrapping her legs up. She teetered a moment, then they crashed to the ground.
“Stab her before she gets back up!” he yelled.
I didn’t pause to think, just stabbed the She-Bear in the neck. Giving the knife a hard wrench, I slit her throat. Warm, sticky blood poured from the cut. She stopped struggling and the light in her eyes dulled then went dark.
Will rolled over flat on his back, wheezing. “I haven’t run that fast in years, dude.”
“I’m glad you did. I was about ten seconds away from white clouds and harp music.” My voice sounded raw in my throat. I leaned against a tree, shaking like crazy. Now that the fight was over, my ribs ached and my arm burned. “She scratched me. Does it look bad?”
Will sat up and shined her flashlight on my forearm. Four claw marks tore through the coveralls, my sweatshirt and finally my skin. The wounds weren’t too deep but I was bleeding.
“Well, I think we can get the bleeding stopped if we wrap it up, but you’ll need to clean the scratches out good later,” Will said.
After a clumsy patch job on my arm, we got to work on the carcass. Once she was hidden in a clump of dead juniper bushes, I marked the coordinates and we set out for the ATV, both of us ready to get home.
The trek back took forever. I didn’t crawl through the window to the mudroom until after three a.m. Cold and filthy, I stripped off everything but my underwear and threw it all into the washer with three capfuls of detergent. Good thing Mom had gotten one of those super-quiet models and the bedrooms were on the opposite side of the house, because I wanted to get the blood out of my clothes before it stained. I put the knife on a pile of towels on the dryer then set the water temperature to hot before hitting the switch.
I leaned against the washer for a minute, completely worn out. My arm stung worse than before. All I wanted was to clean it up, take a shower and go to bed.
Then the light turned on.
“It’s time you told me what’s going on,” Mamie said.
Chapter Sixteen
Mamie was wearing the pink, velvety robe Mom had gotten her for Christmas. Her braids were frizzy—some of the hairs had popped loose in her sleep. She crossed her arms. “Well? Why are you in the mudroom at three in the morning?”
I grabbed a towel from on top of the dryer and flung it around my waist. “Geez, Mamie, I’m in my skivvies. Have some manners.”
All she did was stand taller and tap her foot.
“I forgot I didn’t have any clean jeans for tomorrow. I just threw some in the wash.” I pointed at the machine, which picked that moment to thump like crazy and spit suds out the lid.
Mamie pushed me to one side and turned off the washer. She peered inside. “How much soap did you use? And…wait…what is this?” She held up my coveralls. They were covered with red and mustard-brown streaks.
She whipped her head around to stare at me. “There’s only one pair of jeans in here, and I know the rest of yours are clean because Mom asked me to hang up laundry today. Where did you get these?” Mamie shook the wet coveralls. “This looks like blood, Matt.”
I tried to hide my arm, but I didn’t have enough towel to do that and keep my underwear covered. Still, Mamie didn’t see the slash. She was looking at the dryer.
“Where’d this knife come from?” She reached for the handle.
“No! Don’t touch it.” I leapt in front of her, not caring about my underwear or my arm anymore. “You c
an’t touch it!”
I don’t know how my face looked, but Mamie went all pale. “Okay. I won’t touch it.” She finally noticed I was bleeding. “What happened to your arm?”
“Long story,” I said. “Can I get dressed first?”
She nodded slowly. “Go get cleaned up and I’ll take a look at those scratches. Then we need to talk.”
Eyes huge, Mamie wobbled out of the mudroom. I slumped against the dryer, thinking I’d had enough for one night.
* * *
Mamie sat on the side of my bed, staring into space. She didn’t even look up when I sat down next to her. I was glad to be home and warm, wearing clean sweats, but telling my sister monsters were real and in Billings was going to be painful.
I handed her the box of first-aid stuff I kept in my storage tub, a present from Uncle Sam, courtesy of the 10th Airborne. “There’s gauze, tape, antiseptic ointment, and anything else you need. I appreciate the help; it’s hard for me to reach the cuts.”
Mamie snapped out of her daze. “Let me take a look.” She turned on my bedside lamp and put it down on the bed next to us. After examining my arm, she said, “Well, they’re not so wide that you need stitches, but they’ll probably scar.”
I tried not to flinch like a wimp while she cleaned the scratches with a washcloth then smeared them with the antiseptic gel. She rooted around in the tub and came up with two big gauze pads, which she taped tightly over the wound.
“That ought to do it, but I’ll need to change the bandages in the morning,” she said. “Make sure you wear long sleeves for several days, if you don’t want Mom to freak.”
I packed up the first aid kit. “Thanks.”
“Thanks, nothing. You owe me,” she snapped. Mamie’s wits were back. “What the hay is going on? And don’t tell me you snuck out to toilet-paper someone’s house and fell. It looks like an animal attacked you.”
“I think it’s time we called Uncle Mike,” I said.
Mamie leaned forward with her eyes narrowed. “What does he have to do with you sneaking out and getting mauled by a coyote?”
“More than you might think.” I stared at the floor. “Before we call Mike, I have to check in with someone else first.”
Matt Archer: Monster Hunter Page 13