The Monster Hunter Files - eARC

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The Monster Hunter Files - eARC Page 3

by Larry Correia


  I hated losing people.

  There were at least two monsters, but there could be fifty more for all I knew, but I had a full-auto shotgun and a bad attitude. At the next spot that was relatively clear of brush it could hide in, I stopped to catch my breath and look around. I had to take my shades off to wipe the sweat from the glass. There was no sign of the monster or its hostage. I checked in on my radio and gave Trip my location. He knew it would be a waste of time to tell me to wait for them. Good thing Holly hadn’t answered, because she would have yelled at me.

  Then I heard the singing.

  Well, singing was the best way I could describe it. It was an alien, keening sound, and it certainly didn’t come from a person or an animal. It was like a hot wind through dry leaves. It was angry and bitter. Sad. Lonely even. I turned around and realized that from up here there was a great view down to the RV, and the blackened, smoking circle we’d left.

  It was mourning. I think we killed its mate, and now it was singing a funeral hymn.

  The sun was directly overhead, beating down like a hammer. Maybe Lee had been onto something. Maybe these things were the result of the old sun worshippers or, hell, maybe they were the sun worshippers, changed somehow, drawn back here for some reason. Black magic was malevolent like that.

  I set out toward the song. Upwards again, through the densest, scraggliest high desert plants yet—of course, because it can never be easy. Another hundred yards and my arms and face were scratched everywhere. Stickers had worked their way through my boots and were lodged in my socks, irritating my skin.

  The song stopped. It must have known I was close. I paused to listen…and picked out a new sound. A little girl crying.

  I didn’t know what its senses were like, but I tried to come in stealthily. Only that was a job better suited for Ed, because everything I put my foot down on either cracked or caused little bits of rock to scrape and crunch. To hell with it. I was way better at blundering headlong into trouble anyway.

  “Hello! Can you hear me?”

  The crying turned into a frightened sob. I couldn’t imagine what that poor kid had been through.

  I pushed through the last of the brush and reached an uneven, rocky clearing. There were tall tufts of grass and low scrub breaking through the loose surface. And of course, more of those damned purple thistles. The kid was huddled next to a rock, skinny little arms wrapped around her skinny little knees, crying her eyes out. I guessed she was about six. Dirty, scratched, blonde, white kid, but currently so lobster-red that she was going to have one hell of a sunburn…if she survived.

  I shouldered Abomination and approached cautiously. Either the creature had just dropped her here and kept running, or she’d left her out in the middle to lure me into a trap. But I reached the girl without anything trying to kill me. Keeping my head up, I knelt next to her. “Hey. It’s going to be okay. I’m here to rescue you.”

  But she was out of it, rocking back and forth, scared out of her mind.

  “My name is Owen.”

  There was a sudden gust of wind. One of the thistles shook. I spun and fired a round of buckshot through it. The little girl screamed and slapped her hands over her ears.

  It was either sit up here with who knew how many monsters stalking me, or get the hell back down to where my friends would be arriving. With an innocent involved, that was an easy tactical decision, but the little girl didn’t look to be in any shape to walk. Her knees and elbows were scraped to hell, and she was shaking like a leaf.

  “I’m going to carry you out of here. You just need to hold on tight, okay?”

  She shook her head and mouthed the word “no” repeatedly. Poor thing was scared out of her wits. Keeping Abomination in my right, I picked her up with my left. She didn’t weigh much, probably just forty pounds or so, but the hill was steep. She was squirmy and made me even more top heavy than usual, and I really didn’t want to slip and roll down the mountain with the kid. I’d probably squish her. I’d have to be careful.

  We started back down as fast as I could go without losing my footing.

  I made it nearly a hundred feet before the monster hit me.

  I hadn’t even seen it coming.

  It passed behind me in a yellow blur, so fast its hands made a snap in the air. There was a ripping noise as claws ran across my back. I spun, ready to fire, but it was already disappeared back into the weeds.

  “Shit!”

  Luckily it hadn’t pierced my vest. Even as hot as the damned thing was, the vest had just saved my life. The little girl was crying in my ear. It was making it hard to listen. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  I kept moving. A bush shook. I put a round of buckshot through it. It could have been the monster, or it could have been a squirrel. Better safe than sorry. I began sliding downward again.

  Unfortunately, I was heading back through the thicket. Somehow I’d wound up on a narrow deer trail. I could only see a few feet ahead. The monster we’d killed had demonstrated that it could low-crawl like a boss, and there were a million places one of these things could be hiding. My mouth was painfully dry.

  The monster came out of nowhere.

  That time its claws got a little bit of skin, but worse, it knocked me through the bushes, off balance. I tried to throw myself flat on my back so I wouldn’t crush the kid. I raised Abomination and shredded the bark on a bunch of bushes, but the friggin’ thing had already disappeared again.

  “Are you okay?” I checked the girl for blood, praying she hadn’t gotten hit with a claw. Nothing. Good.

  It was a long way down. This hit-and-run stuff was the monster’s game, not mine. It wanted to hide? Fuck that shit.

  The sheriff had mentioned wildfires. They were a plague this time of year. Everything in these mountains was flammable right now. I just needed to find a spot where I could burn this place down without getting roasted in the process. There was a pile of rocks about twenty yards to my left. It was an island in a sea of knee-high weeds. I scooped up the girl and ran that way.

  Somehow I made it before the monster took another shot at us. I reached the pile of rocks. There was a rattling noise and a snake lifted its head. I didn’t have time to dick around so I just shot the rattlesnake with Abomination. The buckshot pretty much just turned it into a red cloud, but it wasn’t anything personal.

  “Stay here! It’s going to get hot, and it’s going to be hard to breathe, but no matter what, don’t climb down.” Then I gently put the sobbing girl down on the rocks.

  I pulled out my Zippo. I’d been so jealous of Earl’s that I had gotten myself one with the MHI logo engraved on it too, and I didn’t even smoke. But you never know when you’ll need to commit arson. I held the flame beneath some dried stems and they went right up like they were soaked in oil. I began walking in a circle, lighting plants as I went.

  The fire began spreading rapidly, crackling and popping. It was amazing how many flying insects suddenly appeared, fleeing. The creature must have known I was removing its ability to hide. I was forcing its hand. Fight or flight time.

  Apparently, it went with fight. I had made half a circle around the boulder pile when the monster flew through the smoke and slammed into me.

  Claws flashed. Abomination roared.

  I fell on the rocks, but the creature was already gone. Damn, these things were like vampire speed, though I was pretty sure I’d nailed it. Unfortunately, I’d lost my lighter. Not that it mattered, since my little fire was rapidly spreading out of control.

  At least the fire would make a great signal for the others to zero in on…or at least tell them where to collect my body. I keyed my radio, only to realize that the plastic housing had been ripped in half by a claw. Wires were dangling from it. So much for communications.

  At first the smoke was heading away from us, but then the wind shifted and it was blowing right back in my face. Since my lungs were already half closed off with pollen and dust, and I’m an asthmatic, let me tell you, that was unpleasant
. I started coughing so hard that it was making me dizzy.

  This time the monster flanked around…and attacked over the rocks. It leapt past the kid, hit me in the back, and knocked the shit out of me. The only reason it didn’t just rip the back of my head off was that we were lucky enough to topple into the fire.

  I rolled one way, scattering ash. It rolled the other. The thistles sprouting from its back immediately burst into flames, but it still came up, desperate and swinging one burning arm. I raised Abomination and swatted aside the claws, then kicked it in the stomach. The creature flew back into the fire again.

  “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”

  It was screeching, igniting as readily as the ground around it. It began running away, but I aimed Abomination low and opened fire, cutting its legs out from under it. The monster crashed back into the burning weeds. It began clawing its way forward, toward the rocks, trying to get away from the fire.

  Now I was really pissed off. The fire had reached a big bush. I don’t know what it was, but it went up like a rag soaked in kerosene as soon as the fire touched it, roaring like a bonfire and blasting us like a furnace. The little girl screamed as she saw the flaming monstrosity reaching for her. I walked after the monster, wrapped my hands around its shattered ankles, and dragged it away from the rocks. Stickers and pokey leaves cut my palms as I pulled it toward the flaming bush. It kicked at me with its other damaged leg, and the black spur on its heel embedded itself deep into a plastic magazine full of shotgun shells on my chest. Too little, too late, monster.

  With a roar, I swung the creature around and flung it right into the flaming tree. It disintegrated in a shower of sparks.

  * * *

  A couple hours later I was sitting on the tailgate of a sheriff’s department truck, drinking my third Gatorade. I was sunburned, heat-exhausted, had inhaled way too much smoke, and I don’t think I’d ever been this dehydrated before in my life. I had sweated out water that my ancestors had drunk.

  The sheriff joined me. “Well, Pitt, the firefighters are really mad at you. Didn’t you ever hear Smokey the Bear say only you can prevent forest fires?”

  “Yeah, well Smokey wasn’t up there getting his ass kicked.” If Smokey had been a Monster Hunter, he would have been in favor of napalming the whole mountain.

  “Can I assume we’re done with cougar attacks for now?”

  “I think so. My guess it was a pair of…Hell, I don’t know. This is one for the MCB to figure out.” Lee hadn’t read any stories about these either. He’d probably want me to write it up for his collection of monster stories. “How’s Campos?”

  “He should be okay. Thanks to your friend blowing through town at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. And the girl is at the hospital, too. Doctors say she’s damned near catatonic, but I’m not convinced that’s a bad thing right now. We still haven’t identified those other victims from the fruit stand, but I can only assume they’re her parents. Seeing what happened to them? That’s a hell of a thing.”

  “Give her time. People are tough.”

  “Because of you, that little girl gets to grow up. You MHI guys are okay in my book. That said, I truly hope I never have to see you here again.”

  * * *

  The man put the drawing down. “You’re very talented.”

  “You said that already, mister.”

  “I’m not talking about your artwork. I’m talking about who you are. The doctors couldn’t see it because you’re not all grown up yet, but I understand. You see, I collect stories, from every time and from all over the world, so I always know to be on the lookout for things that are special. Like you.”

  She was suspicious. This one knew too much. “Father said never to talk about how we’re different.”

  “But your parents are gone now.”

  “The monsters got them.” As she said the words, she could see them, wilting and twisting as they were consumed by the monster’s fire, and a sudden rage filled her. She slammed her pencil down so hard that it penetrated the table and stuck there, right through the happy face with horns. “Why wouldn’t they just leave us alone?” she shrieked.

  The man remained calm. “Because people fear what they don’t understand. Plus your pops got caught ripping some people apart. Society frowns on that.”

  “Those humans were a blessing of meat. Father says when the hot time comes the sun grants the blood feast to those of us who sing the black hymn.”

  “Yeah, whatever, kiddo. Theological differences aside, it sure didn’t help matters. You were too weak to do anything about it this time, but you won’t always be. You’re too young to control your power, but with some time and a little guidance, you’ll be dangerous as hell. But until then, I know how to keep those monsters away.”

  She looked up and really studied the man for the first time. He was wearing glasses with orange lenses that hid his eyes. “Why is your skin so white? Does the sun not favor you? Father said our family is cursed. Do you bear a curse?”

  “Sort of. I made something very powerful very angry once. You can call me Stricken.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver object. He held it out for her to see. “This is called a PUFF exemption.”

  “It’s shiny.”

  “When you have one of these, you’re off limits. It means monsters like Owen aren’t allowed to hurt you anymore, no matter how different you are.” She reached for it, but with a malicious grin, Stricken snatched it away. “Not so fast. There are rules. You have to earn it first.”

  “How?”

  “By doing what you were born to do, but only when I tell you to. Can you do that for me?”

  She held out one hand. Her palm split open and a spikey purple flower grew from it.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on. You’ll like your new home.”

  Here at MHI it is easy to get so caught up in the big things that Hunters often forget all of the hard work that goes on behind the scenes to keep this company running. You can’t do the job without your support staff. —A.L.

  Small Problems

  Jim Butcher

  “Here they come again,” said Fred, scratching at his potbelly nervously. “Now keep your head down and your mouth shut, Sid.”

  I didn’t say anything back to Fred, who was not the boss of me. I just kept working on getting the old electrical outlet out of the wall. Monster Hunter International headquarters in Cazador was a right solid piece of work, but it wasn’t exactly new. I mean, some of it was. Any time something got destroyed by monsters, I guess they built it back new as they could. But this particular hall back to the trainee barracks must have been left alone by the forces of evil, because it was pretty run-down.

  I got the cover off and the central bracket screw undone and started working the outlet box out of the wall. It was a tight fit, and I had to pull hard enough to sit me back on my butt when it finally came free.

  My shoulders went back and bumped into the legs of a trainee named Don something or other as he walked by. He had his buddies, Tweedles Dee and Dum with him. They never gave me their names, so I had to make do.

  Don was just coming back from the range and smelled like expended propellant. And sweat, of course. Summer in Alabama means sweat. Don was one of those good-looking fellas who had always been bigger and stronger and faster than everyone around him, and figured that meant he could treat them however he liked and get away with it.

  “The fuck is wrong with you, dummy?” Don said.

  “Excuse me,” I said about the same time.

  Don swatted the back of my head. Which I did not appreciate. I turned to look at him, and he was squared off over me.

  “You could have injured my knee. Maybe you don’t get it,” Don said, “but I’m the talent around here. You’re a goddamned janitor.”

  “You stink,” I said. “Should maybe take a shower.”

  Fred winced.

  The Tweedles snickered and Don’s face turned red. Redder. Summer in Alabama means sunburns
, and plenty of them.

  “I’m about tired of your mouth,” Don said. “Get up.”

  I squinted at him and said, “You want to fight me.”

  “It isn’t going to be a fight,” Don said. “I’m going to teach you some respect is all.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  Well. Don was about six inches taller and maybe sixty pounds heavier than me, and he was a trained soldier and about to be a Monster Hunter and all. So I didn’t feel too bad about whipping my fist up into his balls.

  It wasn’t a real hard hit, the way I was sitting there, but Don made a funny noise and staggered, and that gave me room enough to come up swinging. I got picked on a lot when I was a kid. Bullies like giving it to the little guy. But they don’t like it so much when you paste them a few times, and I’d learned about that.

  I fetched him a good one on the nose, drove my shoulder into his stomach, and pushed him across the hall and into the other wall. Once he bounced off that, I went to work on his belly like it was the heavy bag. That was going pretty well until the Tweedles grabbed me and pulled me off.

  There were two of them and one of me, and they knew how to work together. I hear they teach the Marines that now. I got in a punch good enough to hear someone’s nose break, and after that it was my turn to be the heavy bag. Don staggered back in about the time it was down to getting kicked and stomped on. It doesn’t take much of that to make for a good beating.

  “What the hell is happening here!” demanded a sudden voice, a woman’s, cracking like a whip.

  The beating stopped. I’d curled up in a ball to take most of it on my back and shoulders, which didn’t feel good but was a lot better than taking kicks to the ribs, guts, and groin. I hurt, plenty. I had an eye that I could see out of and lifted my head to see a genuine Monster Hunter bracing the trainees.

 

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