Scattered, Smothered and Chunked - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season 1

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Scattered, Smothered and Chunked - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season 1 Page 12

by John G. Hartness


  They went at each other literally tooth and claw, biting, clawing and kicking. Nearly a ton of tiger-man crashed to the forest floor, and I sheathed my sword. The two rakshasa backed off, measuring each other as they stalked in circles. Aditya feinted forward, and Greg flicked out a paw to scar the bigger cat's nose. Aditya drew back, and Greg pressed his advantage by darting in after him, counting on his smaller size to give him better speed. But Aditya was setting a trap, and as soon as Greg got close he reversed course and pounced, jaws snapping closed on the back of Greg's neck. I lost track of who was what in the flurry of claws and fur, but I did have the presence of mind to find Bertha and pick her up from where Greg had knocked her out of my hand.

  I checked the magazine and saw silver rounds. No good. I changed that out for a mag loaded with cold iron and chambered a round. I wanted to be ready to go no matter which furball ended up on top. The fight wasn't really much of one after the first clench. Aditya had the size advantage, had the strength advantage, and was used to killing for his meals. Greg never stood a chance. With some kind of flip, Greg was on his back, Aditya was on top of Greg, and the smaller rakshasa's belly was quickly torn open. Aditya punched him one last time in the face and stood up, transitioning from four legs to two with no apparent discomfort.

  Greg didn't get up. He lay on his back in the underbrush, looking down at his entrails in with a surprised look on his muzzle. I started to go towards him, but he gave me a warning growl and I stood where I was. From behind me came a low howl, and a tawny rakshasa bolted into the clearing on all fours and dashed over to Greg. Raina turned to me and roared, a chest-rattling bellow that made me take a step back.

  Aditya came to my side. "Raina? Are my dreams come true? Are we truly reunited again?" He took two steps forward, but froze when Raina growled low in her throat.

  "You killed my mate! Why? I loved him!"

  "But he was weak!" Aditya protested. "See how easily I defeated him?"

  "Then I will defeat you!" Raina screamed. She made to get up, but Greg reached out a hand to her.

  "Hold me, my beloved." He croaked. She turned back to him and saw a trickle of blood flowing from his nose. Raina raised her head to the sky and howled again, a heart-breaking sound that went on and on for what seemed like minutes. Tears flowed down Raina's muzzle and dripped onto Greg's body as the last breath left him. She bent her head to his, kissed his lips lightly one last time, then stood slowly and turned to Aditya.

  "I will destroy you for what you did to him." She walked very slowly across the clearing to where Aditya stood. I walked backwards just as slowly, working to create some distance between myself and the tiger-people with the poisonous claws.

  Aditya held out his hands to her, tears standing in his eyes. "I love you, Raina. I have followed you here, to the ends of the civilized world, for your love. Please come home with me."

  "No. I will never go home, and I will never go anywhere with you. Prepare to die!" She raised her claws and settled into a fighting crouch. Aditya never moved, just held out his arms to her.

  "Come home with me." He repeated.

  "Never!" She roared in his face and her legs tensed. Then a terrific boom split the quiet of the forest, and Aditya's face was covered with fur and blood. Raina dropped to her knees, the fell forward onto her face, dead at his feet.

  Aditya turned to me and stared, his mouth gaping open as he took in the sight of me in a Weaver stance with Bertha pointed where Raina's head used to be. I swung the pistol over to center on Aditya's face. "This ends one of two ways, fuzzy. Either you get cleaned up and catch the next flight back to Superbad, or wherever the hell you're from. Or I put a fifty-caliber chunk of cold iron through your face. Your call."

  "Why?" His shoulders started to shake first, and then the tears began to roll. In a few seconds he was on his knees holding Raina's body and howling his own lonesome tiger howl.

  "She killed a kid. More like four kids. She was never going to go home with you. If she had, maybe I would have let her live. But I doubt it."

  "I should destroy you!"

  "Lot of folks have tried. I'm gonna leave you here to grieve. I'll meet you at the Charleston airport tomorrow at eight. You should be able to catch a Delta flight to Atlanta and then get home. If you're not there, I'm gonna have to hunt you. I'd rather not, but I will. You haven't done anything, and I have kind of a live and let live policy."

  "I will see you there." He held out a hand, but I just looked at it. He retracted his claws, and I shook his hand. As I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. I froze. "What is to keep my from scratching you right now? The venom in my claws is quite lethal."

  "So is Bertha." I said, showing him the Desert Eagle pointed at his nuts. He quickly let go of my hand and stepped back. I dug my shotgun out of the underbrush and headed back to the truck, I turned on the Bluetooth and gave Skeeter my report.

  "Wow," he said. "Chalk up another victim for true love."

  "Yeah." I replied. "Hey Skeeter?"

  "Yeah?"

  "No more love stories for a while, okay?"

  "I'm good for that. Why don't you head back to headquarters for a couple days? I just got the Lord of the Rings Blu-Rays."

  "I'll bring the beer, Skeeter. See you in a couple of days." As I closed the door to the truck, I thought I heard another long, low howl echo across the mountain.

  Love Stinks

  I was in the middle of a very stimulating conversation about Proust with a highly intelligent young graduate assistant when my phone buzzed. I politely excused myself from the young lady and put in my Bluetooth earpiece. "What is it, Skeeter? I'm busy."

  "What's her name? Emerald? Jasmine?"

  "It ain't like that, Skeeter. She's a classy girl."

  "Uh-huh. Whatever. Tip her and get to the truck. I need you in South Carolina by morning."

  "As my daddy used to say, I ain't lost nothing in South Carolina I need to go back for."

  "We've got a serious problem, Bubba. We've got a rogue cupid."

  "Shit. All right, I'm on my way. By the way, the girl's name was Kara. I told you she was classy." I tipped the little brunette and sighed as she put her top back on. Skeeter had the worst timing of any human being on the planet. I stopped off by the restroom to drain Little Bubba before I hit the road, and almost knocked over a dude as I was leaving the bathroom.

  "Sorry, bro. Didn't see you there. I was drying my hands." Cleanliness is next to godliness, and all that. The dude didn't laugh it off, which was probably a bad sign. He was short dude, too. I always manage to piss off short dudes just by walking around. I think it's because I'm six-five, they get testy just being in the same room as me. I don't blame 'em, I guess. If I had to run around the world staring at belt buckles, I'd probably be grumpy, too.

  The little dude didn't move, just stood there glaring up at me. Finally I decided I'd better say something or I'd be standing there long enough to have to pee again. "You need something, fella? 'Cause I was just leaving."

  "You don't like Kara?"

  "Huh?" I've tangled with guys in strip clubs before because I picked up their favorite dancer, or because their girlfriend gave me a lap dance, or because they were werewolves and didn't approve of their girlfriend's career choice, but I'd never had a guy get pissed at me because I didn't get a lap dance.

  "You didn't get a second dance. You don't like Kara?"

  "No, I got a call. I gotta go. Kara's very nice. I might even come back some time and get a dance from her. But right now I gotta go to South Carolina for work."

  "That's a long way from here."

  "I know, that's why I gotta go now." I started to push my way past him gently, but his two buddies stepped forward and blocked the rest of my path. I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on with this dude, but it looked like I was gonna have to beat some ass. Dammit, Skeeter, why couldn't you have waited 'til my songs were up to call?

  "You ain't going nowhere, pal. You owe my sister another dance. I think tha
t dance was gonna be worth about a hundred bucks. So pay up, and we'll get out of your way."

  "Are you serious? You want me to pay for a lap dance I didn't get?"

  "Yep."

  I pointed to one of his friends, a roid-freak with a shaved head and a t-shirt one or two sizes too small. "And I reckon you're the bouncer here?" I pointed at his other buddy, a fat redneck with a beard, flannel shirt and a pair of brass knuckles shining on his right hand. "And you're probably the bartender, right?" They both nodded. So there wasn't going to be anybody coming to break this mess up.

  "I don't suppose you want to save the furniture and take this outside, do you?" They looked at each other and shrugged. Sometimes I can't believe how stupid people are. As soon as he looked away from me to check with the bartender, I kicked Shorty right in the nuts. He dropped to his knees, hands cupped around his balls, and I grabbed him by his ears. I pulled his head forward, thrust forward with my knee, and heard a satisfying crunch as his nose broke. I stepped back to let Flannel Shirt and Roids try to get through the door at the same time and looked around the bathroom for anything useful.

  There was a nervous bathroom attendant standing by his collection of colognes and aftershaves. I looked at him and said "You might want to hide in a stall 'til this is over." He nodded and made a beeline for the handicap stall. I grabbed a couple of bottles of cologne and lobbed them at the boys, who were still trying to fit through a single door together. God bless stupid people. The bottles didn't do any real damage, but they did break all over the floor and fill the place with a nice aroma. That smell got even better when I grabbed a book of matches from the attendant's station and tossed a couple matches into the puddle. People forget that cologne is mostly alcohol, and goes up like a torch. Flannel and Roids got the hell out of the doorway, letting it swing closed. The fire burned out in seconds, but that was all I needed. I yanked the paper towel dispenser off the wall and charged the door.

  At my size, doors aren't really an obstacle, even when they're not supposed to open in that direction. This one was flimsy hollow-core piece of crap anyway, so it exploded in a shower of luan splinters when I hit it. Flannel was almost back to the door, so I just raised an elbow and caught him in the throat with a forearm as I ran full-speed into him. He flew another six feet after I stopped, crashing through the door to the women's restroom and coming to a stop against a stall. I turned my attention to Roids, but I didn't really consider him much of a threat. After all, most guys who pump iron for looks can't fight worth a crap.

  Of course I end up with the one guy determined to prove me wrong, because that juiced-up freak came at me with kicks and strikes like he was the second coming of Royce Gracie or something. He caught me in the jaw with a spinning side flip kick or some damn thing, and it sure as hell spun me around. Then the freak jumped on my back and started trying to choke me out. I figured he'd watched one too many cage fights on TV, so as soon as he had his grip on good and tight I ran backwards as fast as I could into a wall. For some reason his enthusiasm in riding my back like a bald-headed spider monkey started to fade at that point, but he still didn't let go right away. So I turned around and ran backwards into another wall. I repeated this a couple more times, and finally the jackass let go of my neck and fell down. I turned around to look at him, and he was still kinda stuck in the drywall. I left him there where he couldn't hurt nobody and turned to look for more things to punch.

  I turned right back into a stinging slap right across my chops. I looked down at Kara glaring at me and rearing back for another slap. I caught her arm and said, "What the hell are you doing?"

  "You beat up my brother, my cousin and my boyfriend, so I'm gonna whoop your ass!" For a little chick she had a lot of fire in her eyes, and I thought if she had enough time she might actually do some damage.

  "No you ain't. You're gonna go get a couple bags of ice for your jackass brother and his friends, and tell them next time don't try to roll guys who are this damn big and mean-looking. Because usually we're about as mean as we look. Now I gotta go. I'm sorry for the mess, and tell that little dude in the crapper it's safe to come out now. But you try to hit me again, and I'm gonna fold you in half and shove your ass in the beer cooler. I'm about to become seriously irritated. And like the man on TV says, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

  She looked like she couldn't decide whether to hit me again, kiss me, or run like hell. I helped her decision by picking her up by the waist, setting her back on the stage, turning her around and giving her a smack on the ass. "Now scoot!" I said, appreciating the view as she went backstage. She stopped by the pole and turned around. "Next time you're in town, come see me?"

  "If your brother ain't here, no problem. Hell, even if he is here, it ain't much of a problem I reckon." I laughed and turned to go. Flannel was standing there with a baseball bat. I stopped, crossed my arms and stared at him for a second. He just stood there. I grinned and said, "I'll make you a deal. You take your best shot with that bat. One shot. Then I'll take my best shot. We keep doing that 'til one of us gets knocked the hell out. Sound fair?"

  He stood there for a long time thinking about it. He stood there long enough that I finally got bored and said, "Well then if you don't want to play, I'm leaving." I started to walk past him and heard the bat whistle through the air. I turned, catching the fat end of the bat with a meaty thwack against the palm of my hand. His eyes got huge as he saw the Desert Eagle fifty-caliber pistol I had pointed at his nose. "But trying to hit me when I ain't looking is downright unsportsmanlike. Bertha here don't like cheaters. She gets angry. And when she gets angry, she barks. And when Bertha barks, people fall down. You get it?"

  He nodded, and let go of the bat. I tucked Bertha back into the belt holster in the small of my back and snapped the bat over one knee. I tossed it to the floor and walked out the door. I blinked a couple of times at the bright sunshine and reminded myself that I was going to stop going to strip clubs for the lunch buffet. Especially the ones that didn't have lunch buffets. Afternoon shift brings out all the toothless dancers and their stupid boyfriends. I almost never get in fights at titty bars after dark; it's always in the middle of the day when those joints get weird.

  I got into my blue Ford F-250 pickup and put my Bluetooth earpiece back in. I pushed the button and called Skeeter. He picked up on the first ring. "What the hell took you so long, Bubba? I told you to tip the girl and get your ass in the truck! It's a long way to South Carolina, and you have got to get there as fast as possible."

  "I got in a fight, Skeeter, now leave me alone. I'm picking plaster dust out of my ponytail. What's the big deal in South Cackalacky anyhow?"

  "We've got a rogue cupid on the loose." He said that like I was supposed to know what that meant.

  "Valentine's Day was a couple weeks ago. Why is Cupid still running around?"

  "That's what makes him a rogue cupid, jackass. And it's not capital-c Cupid, it's a cupid. There's thousands of them. They're a specific type of fairy that spreads love and lust."

  "Heh. Sounds like some folks I met in the Castro once on a trip out west."

  "This is serious, Bubba. This cupid is dangerous. They get free reign in the mortal world for a couple weeks in the winter around Valentine's Day and for a few weeks in the summer around wedding season. But the rest of the time they're supposed to be dormant. This one is working outside his license, and he's hurting people!"

  "Okay, okay. Calm down. What's the worst thing that could happen? A few people fall in love and get laid. Could be worse. Hey, maybe if I ask real nice, this little cupid'll give you a visit."

  "Don't joke, Bubba. This thing is dangerous. Once it shoots you, you're toast! No judgment, no moral compass, just an overwhelming desire to mate."

  "Sounds like every Tuesday to me, but whatever. Where am I going to find this thing?"

  "York, South Carolina. Divine Savior Home for the Aged. It's a church-run nursing home."

  "You mean there's a cupid running around in a Catholi
c nursing home shooting old folks and nuns in the ass with his little magic 'hump me' arrows?"

  "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yes, that's the root of the problem."

  "No pun intended."

  "What? Bubba! That's nasty! I do not make penis puns where The Church is concerned."

  "Why not? Everybody else does."

  "Just drive. I'll send all the info to your phone. And how much should I send to GlamourGals for damages?"

  "I dunno. A couple doors, a couple walls, a small fire in a bathroom. Say five grand." Skeeter started cussing at me again, and I hung up on him. I couldn't get the image of a randy nun chasing an old man on a walker down the hall out of my head. I started to laugh, then figured I'd better drive fast before there was a whole epidemic of broken hips.

  Memphis to South Carolina is a long-ass drive, and I had to stop and grab a couple hours shut-eye around the Tennessee-North Carolina border. So it was around eight in the morning before I rolled into York. It was a sleepy little town with a Super Walmart north of town and a couple of crappy strip malls leading into a nice tree-lined main street with big Colonial houses complete with columns and big wraparound porches. I followed Skeeter's directions and hung a left at the courthouse, then pulled the truck into a grocery store parking lot on the right. The nursing home was across the street, and from the outside it didn't look like anything was out of the ordinary. It was a long, single-story brick building with a statue of Mary out front. An old man in a wheelchair snoozed on a porch, and through the windows I could see a nun or two bustling down a hallway.

  "Skeeter, this place looks completely normal." I said into my earpiece.

  "Trust me, he's there. We've had too many reports from the sisters and the priest to think otherwise. He might be hiding, though. Cupids aren't real active in the morning."

  "Well, that's good. I ain't exactly a morning person myself. So how am I gonna find this little sleeping cherub?"

 

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