The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  “When you die, the first person you see in Heaven is James Brownstone?” the man asked. “Or, shit…am I in Hell?”

  James grunted. “I’m not dead, so why would I be in Heaven or Hell?” He pointed in the general direction of the front gate. “I’ve got teams sweeping the park, starting from the front. It’ll be safe as long as you head that way.”

  The security guard nodded. He glanced down at his shredded shirt and ran a hand along his unmarred body. “I thought…they killed me. You used magic?”

  “Something like that,” James rumbled. “Now get the fuck going,”

  The guard sprinted away.

  James frowned and stood. He and his teams needed to hurry up before more people got hurt. After a quick check to confirm the enemies had stayed dead, he jogged toward the source of the hum.

  He winced as he came up to a decapitated rabbit character sitting in a pool of black and blue fluid. Even though he knew it was nothing more than a robot, there was something very unsettling about seeing the headless mascot.

  The humming grew louder, and reddish light shone from around a nearby building, the Hall of the Perky Penguins.

  Wonder if Alison would like this? Nah, she’s too old. Glad I never bought those season tickets I was thinking about when she first moved in.

  James grunted and ran toward the hum. He turned the corner to find a swirling portal, along with a half-dozen more eyeless rippers. Two more emerged from the portal and they all turned toward him, raising their claws and hunching.

  He holstered his pistol and pulled out his knife. “Bring it, assholes. You’re not so fucking tough. If you were, you wouldn’t be attacking an amusement park like a bunch of pussies. Should have just come at me.”

  The rippers loped toward him, and James bellowed out a challenge and charged. He slammed a boot into one. It flew, and its head crunched against the brick wall of the Hall of Perky Penguins. A slash of his knife took out most of the neck of another.

  Gunshots echoed in the far distance from multiple directions. The other teams were engaging their own monsters or wizards.

  Several rippers surrounded James and slashed at him with their claws. They shredded his clothes and the blows stung, but the attacks only left scratches.

  Near maximum adaptation previously achieved for attack, Whispy Doom reported. Kill enemies. Find stronger enemies.

  James smashed a ripper’s head into the ground with a free hand, enjoying the satisfying crunch.

  Working on it, Whispy.

  James slammed his elbow into one right behind him before stabbing another. The creatures continued their efforts, but blow after blow from James ended their sad, twisted lives until a tangle of bloodied bodies with twitching limbs was all that surrounded him. The only thing they’d accomplished was adding new holes to his shirt.

  Two more rippers emerged from the portal. He rushed toward them and finished them with two quick stabs to the head.

  James grunted and looked at the portal. Two energy streams were still feeding into it, but their sources weren’t nearby.

  Need to shut this shit down, or it’ll just be Whack-a-Mole forever.

  He sprinted away, following one of the streams. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted more rippers emerging from the portal, but they didn’t rush for him. Maybe he had to be closer for them to sense him.

  James ignored the creatures. He could come back and kill them later. The most important step of the mission would be to cut down on reinforcements. He focused on following the energy stream until he found the source, a rock with a pulsing crimson energy field.

  Sample energy for adaptation, Whispy Doom demanded. Adapt. Grow stronger.

  James was about to argue with the amulet but shrugged and sheathed his knife. “Why the fuck not? Just more Council shit. I’ve already adapted to most of it anyway, and don’t even have to kill anyone.”

  He touched the energy stream and pure pain burned through him. His body jerked and flew back several yards. It wasn’t until he landed that he realized his hand had been vaporized.

  A long hiss followed.

  James grunted and tried sitting up, the pain blinding and darkness clawing at the edges of his vision.

  Well, shit. That’s a new one.

  A flickering thought of using Alison’s wish passed through his mind, but he pushed it away. It wasn’t his. It was his daughter’s, and he wouldn’t waste it because he’d let a little mistake almost get the better of him. Besides, Whispy Doom liked to talk a good game. Time for him to help when it didn’t come to combat.

  The good news was the wound had been cauterized. At least he wouldn’t bleed out even if he passed out.

  Do something, James demanded. If I pass out here, some damn Council asshole might be able to take me out.

  Insufficient time for regeneration, Whispy Doom responded. Recommend supplemental healing via external means. Combination should be sufficient for limb recovery.

  Gritting his teeth and trying to push the pain out of his mind, James took several deep breaths and fished out one of his healing potions. He downed it and waited, unsure if it’d work. He’d had fingers cut off before and managed to hold them in place while a healing potion worked, but not full limb regeneration. If this didn’t work, there would be a very expensive visit to a witch or wizard in his future.

  The pain began to fade. Silver-green metallic tendrils, the same as with his armor, extended from the burned stub. They shifted color, turning white and forming layers of bone. Over the course of a minute the bones of his hand regenerated, then the layer of muscle, then his skin to form a completely new hand.

  James flexed his new hand. No pain at all. He found himself surprised, and far less angry than he’d been only a couple minutes before. Not only was he less angry, but he was also fascinated. The potential combat implications of what he’d just done weren’t lost on him at all, even if he only had one more healing potion for the job. He’d need to be a bit more careful.

  Could you do that shit without the potion?

  Limb regeneration possible, Whispy replied, but energy- and time-intensive.

  Good to know, not that I’m planning to let more assholes cut me up or touch shit like that. Please tell me you’re adapted to that energy at least. The fuckers might blast it at me.

  Partial adaptation achieved. Additional exposure not recommended in current tactical situation.

  James snorted. He pulled out his gun and fired a few rounds at the rock. They struck and bounced off with sparks, the pulsating stream unaffected by the attack.

  “Fuck.”

  Any ideas?

  Insufficient power for advanced mode.

  James yanked a grenade off his vest. If he didn’t have his armor blade or armor cannons, this might be the next best option. He pulled the pin and threw it toward the rock. It exploded and the stream vanished, even though the rock only looked charred.

  “Good enough,” he muttered.

  He grinned and cracked his knuckles. With Heather disrupting the communications at his request and no way to see the other portals from where he was, he could only hope the other teams figured it out.

  James turned to verify the collapse of the closest portal. Although there was no portal in the distance or even the second energy stream anymore, a group of twenty rippers slowly circled him, preparing for an assault.

  Guess I took too long to blow that shit up.

  After getting his hand burned off and regenerating it, a pack of monsters who couldn’t do more than tear up his clothes didn’t worry him at all. He holstered his pistol and readied his knife.

  Kill enemies, the amulet admonished. Find stronger enemies to maximize adaptation. Achieve primary directive.

  James grunted. Thanks to his amulet, he’d burned off his hand. Sure, it had grown back, but the damned amulet was only worried about finding new sources of damage to adapt to. Not even a little “Sorry about that, man, I gave you bad fucking advice.”

  The bounty hunter sno
rted. There would be time to worry about that later. He threw himself into the pack of rippers, becoming a whirlwind of death. Although the enemy attack finished off the ragged remains of what passed for his shirt, they paid for it with their lives.

  James wiped his bloodied knife on his pants. “At least one portal down.”

  21

  More insect men scampered toward Trey’s team, the sun glinting off their dark carapaces and their massive mandibles clacking together. He couldn’t help but be unnerved by their still-human-looking eyes.

  “Why can’t these fuckers just use normal-ass guys?” Trey shouted as he put a bullet into the head of one of the charging creatures. At least the damned monsters didn’t require an anti-magic bullet to put down. A pile of dead monsters covered the path to the Castle of the Dream Princess. He’d love to see a few shots of that scene on the advertisements for the park.

  Lachlan slapped in a new magazine and shook his head. “We took out the first portal. Just need to find the second and then we won’t have to do as much fucking pest control.”

  The other men grunted in agreement.

  Several high-pitched screams cut through the air.

  Shit. There are still normal people in the park? Guess you can’t empty out that many people and not have a few left behind. Time to prove how badass the Brownstone Agency is.

  They sounded like they were coming from the castle, a three-story structure with a façade that resembled an ornate Renaissance-era castle, including multiple turreted towers with balconies. The team rushed toward the castle, hopping over the ropes and stanchions.

  A man in a robe stood near the front of the castle, his clear wand glowing bright green. He spun toward the bounty hunters, frowning, and flung out his wand. A thick green liquid appeared and flew toward the men.

  “What the fuck is that goo?” Trey shouted and jumped out of the way. The liquid coated one of the ropes near him, hissing and burning through it on contact. It was a deadly acid, and he doubted the anti-magic deflector would save them. They’d learned that the hard way when dealing with the Council before.

  Lachlan yelped when some of the acid landed on his armor and started eating through it.

  Trey fired a burst at the wizard, but the bullets jerked up at the last second without a flash. “Just yank that shit off, Lachlan. Everyone else, take cover before this bitch burns our dicks off.”

  The five bounty hunters rushed for trees, corners, and even a churro cart. The wizard kept flinging acid, the acrid smell filling the air and dissolving everything it touched. It even etched several inches into the pavement.

  Lachlan rolled behind a wall, hissing as he singed his thumb but managing to get his chest armor off. “I’m okay, Trey. Just gonna take a long fucking shower after all this shit is over, you know what I’m saying?”

  The other men peppered the wizard with bullets, but every bullet changed course at the last second, not even coming close to messing up his robe let alone wounding him. That was the problem with wizards. A man could never know what kind of defensive magic one of the bastards might have.

  More high-pitched screams came from inside, and Trey gritted his teeth. There was obviously somebody in the castle, so he needed that wizard to hurry up and die. He’d been trying to preserve some of his specialty ammunition, but he had no choice if they were going to save the people in the castle.

  Trey ejected his magazine and slapped in anti-magic rounds.

  “Time for an expensive death, motherfucker.” Trey flipped the rifle to automatic and spun around the corner, holding down the trigger.

  The first few bullets went wide but at least didn’t abruptly change course like all the shots before had. The next few peppered the wizard, and he yelled, collapsing to his knees, blood blossoming from his wounds. Trey let go of the trigger and yanked out his pistol, letting the rifle dangle from the shoulder strap. Might as well make the coup de grace a little more cost-efficient for the agency.

  He opened up with the 9mm, yelling as he emptied the magazine. The first half of his shots refused to go anywhere near the wounded wizard, but the last few slammed into the man, blowing new holes in him until he collapsed to the ground.

  Trey snorted. The man had magical powers and chose to use them to try to murder people in an amusement park as part of some crazy cabal’s plans.

  “What a dumbass motherfucker.”

  Several rifle shots rang out, and Trey jerked his head to the side. Lachlan and two others had taken out a charging insect-man pack.

  Damn. Lucky they were watching our ass. We could have gotten torn up.

  Trey holstered his pistol and brought his rifle back up. “We still need to find that other portal or those damn bitches will keep coming at us, but let’s clear the castle first.”

  He jogged past the body of the wizard toward the castle. Half the room was coated in acid, a ticket counter was melted in the middle, and a life-size princess robot lay on the ground, its face a twisted mass of burned metal and plastic.

  “Yeah, this ain’t every kid’s worst nightmare. Not at all. Damn, are the Council fucked-up bitches or what?”

  An insect man clawed at a metal door marked PRINCESSES AND KNIGHTS ONLY, seemingly ignoring Trey as it gouged the metal with its hard claws. A single anti-magic bullet to the head finished the monster. Another metal door had already been burned open but there was no one inside.

  With the monster dead, Trey could make out quiet sobbing from the other side. He hurried to the door and knocked once, rewarded by several high-pitched screams.

  “Yo,” Trey shouted. “I ain’t no monster. I’m Trey Garfield. We took out the monsters and the wizard. I’m here to rescue you.”

  “Y-you’re a normal person?” called back a voice. It sounded like a young girl’s voice.

  Trey frowned. “Yeah. We’re the good guys, and we just killed the monsters. Like knights, y’all, just with big-ass guns and a lot more style.”

  The locks clicked, and the door slowly opened, revealing four young girls and two boys. They couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Three of the girls wore brightly colored princess dresses, and the boys and the remaining girl had on some sort of faux shiny knight’s armor costumes, complete with dull metal swords. One boy’s sword had been half-melted by acid.

  Bravery’s only gonna get you so far, kid.

  Trey nodded toward the door. “We’ll get you out of here.”

  The kids wiped their tears and followed Trey as he led them out a side door. They didn’t need to see the bullet-riddled wizard, although all the dead monsters probably weren’t helping. The kids screamed as a few more rifle shots echoed nearby.

  Damn. Need to get these kids somewhere safe.

  The bounty hunters would run out of ammo if they didn’t do something about the remaining gate, but it wasn’t like Trey could just leave a group of young kids to fend for themselves. A single insect man could take them out with ease.

  “Yo, Lachlan,” he called. “Get your ass over here.”

  The other man rushed over to him, eyeing the kids. “Damn, that was what they were going after in there? That’s messed up.”

  Trey gave him a grim nod. “Take these kids to the front and out of the park. Just stick to the way we came and you shouldn’t even run into anything. Easiest job all day.”

  Lachlan frowned. “But the big man said this was search and des—”

  “I need you to get these kids the hell out of here.” Trey glared at him. “This ain’t just search-and-destroy when we’ve got people still in here, especially kids, you know what I’m saying? Get them out of here. Now.”

  Lachlan nodded and gestured with his arms. “Come on. Uncle Lachlan and his big-ass rifle are gonna save you today, kids.”

  One of the girls in a princess costume blinked. “Are you soldiers?”

  Lachlan shook his head. “Nah, we are bounty hunters with the Brownstone Agency.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t want to be a princess anymore when I
grow up. I want to be a bounty hunter.”

  Lachlan grinned. “Just learn to kick ass, and we’ll hire you. Let’s go.”

  Trey waited until Lachlan and the kids were a good hundred yards away before nodding to the rest of his men. “Seems like the new insect bastards keep coming from the same direction. Let’s go finish off the last portal and show them who the real monsters are.”

  Rippers and insect men loped toward Maria’s team in a tightly packed cluster. Too many years with the AET had removed her fear of monsters who could fall to conventional rounds, especially when they were acting like rabid animals and lacked strategy.

  How many more of you are there?

  Her team members had their rifles ready, sweat pouring down their sides as the monsters closed.

  “Maintain the inverted wedge formation,” Maria yelled. “Wait for it. Wait for it. Now. Open fire!”

  The five-member team shot several quick bursts almost as one. Their bullets cut down the horde of charging rippers and insect men, who fell together in a final dance of death. The few that survived the initials bursts were shredded by the combined follow-up fire.

  “Cease fire. Cease fire.” Maria surveyed the carnage. Another fifteen monsters dead. There couldn’t be many of the bastards left. She swore she’d killed fewer monsters when they’d raided the Council base, even if the monsters there were admittedly tougher.

  Maria had to give the Brownstone boys credit. She hadn’t encountered many non-AET types who could handle monsters charging right toward them and not want to break and run. It didn’t matter if a person could shoot and kill one with a gun or not, unnatural mutants spoke to a person’s instinct to flee. The average man couldn’t even stand and fight when a normal wild animal was rushing him.

  Carl slapped in a new magazine. “Starting to run low on ammo, Maria, and you told us to save our last grenades for the portals. Got a few 9mm magazines, but I’m not down with getting close enough that I have to use that shit.”