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

by John G. Hartness

  "Does anybody know you're out here?"

  "No. I was knocked out in the crash. I'll have to call this in to my supervisor. They'll deal with sanitizing the scene and making sure that nothing dangerous was released in the crash."

  "What, like a gas spill or something? I can tell you're on that account. There's no gas smell."

  "This vehicle doesn't run on gasoline, Bubba. That's why I have to call this in." She was out of the Suburban by now, carefully checking herself over for injury. From what I could see in her tailored black suit, she looked just fine.

  "Quit checking out the fed, Bubba." Skeeter's voice interrupted my evaluation of just how fine the agent was looking.

  "I am not checking her out, Skeeter." I whispered.

  "I'm looking through your glasses, jackass. I know exactly where you're looking. So try to peel your eyeballs off her ass and focus on the task at hand."

  "And what is the task at hand, Skeeter?"

  "Getting her back up the mountain safely with all her shit." I looked back at Agent Hall and shook my head at the mountain of crap she was pulling out of the back of the Suburban.

  "You know I have to carry you and anything essential back up the mountain, right? So if it ain't essential, I ain't carryin' it."

  "All this equipment is very sensitive. It cannot fall into the wrong hands under any circumstances. If I have to carry it up the hill, so be it." I pointed up the side of the mountain with my flashlight. There was a narrow, car-width track of destroyed foliage coming almost straight down the incline. In broad daylight a person with nothing in their hands might manage to clamber up the hill, but there was no way in hell she was going to make it up there at night carrying a pile of gear. It was going to take everything I had to get her up to the road with all my gear.

  "Agent Hall have you looked around? We are in the middle of the damn night in the hills of Galax by God Virginia. The only wrong hands around here might belong to Yogi the damn Bear! So grab your weapons, a change of underpants, and let's get the hell up the road. With all the racket you made driving through the forest there ain't gonna be no more Bigfoot sightings around here tonight, so we might as well go back to town and get a room."

  "What are you suggesting, Bubba?" She cocked an eyebrow at me and gave me a grin.

  "I meant a couple of rooms." I blushed. I don't blush. Ever. Except then. I was suddenly real happy that Skeeter could only see what I saw, not what I looked like. I grabbed the duffel bag Agent Hall handed me and tossed it over one shoulder. Then I wrapped one arm around her and started trying to make my way up the hill.

  We'd only made it about ten feet before I saw this arrangement wasn't working. I set the duffel bag down and dropped to one knee. "Climb on." I said.

  "Excuse me? I think you can do better than that if you're going to proposition a girl out in the middle of the woods."

  "I've got to give you a piggyback ride outta here. I can sling your duffel around my neck in front of me, but I need both hands to work the descender as we go up. So climb on." She stood there for a second looking at me, then did as I asked. I tried not to think too much about the feel of her breasts pressed into my back as we made our way up the mountain to where I'd left my truck.

  It took almost half an hour of scrambling up the mountain before I made it back to my truck. I deposited the sexy federal agent on the side of the road, and dropped her duffel beside her. "What the hell's in that thing, bricks?"

  "Sorry, I guess I might have packed a little heavy. It's got a change of clothes, some ammo and my weapons. Oh, and my laptop." She actually did look sorry, so I let it go.

  We got my gear stowed and put her duffel in the back seat, then climbed into the truck and started looking for a place to turn around. We eventually got pointed back towards town and found a Holiday Inn Express with a pair of empty rooms. We checked in, and I handed Agent Hall her duffel. I grabbed my bag from the truck and turned around to find a very good-looking federal monster hunter standing a little closer to me than I was necessarily comfortable with.

  "Uh, hi." I mumbled, taking Skeeter's video glasses off and throwing them into the truck.

  "Hi, yourself." She smiled up at me. "Last time we worked together you had a bottle stashed in the back of this truck. You still got one?"

  "Yeah, but ain't you tired? It's awful late."

  "I think I can hang for a little while. What about you?" She gave me that smile again, and my knees went a little weak. I turned and reached back into the truck, coming out with a quart jar of moonshine that Skeeter made in his garage.

  "I'm good. Have a seat." I walked around to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate. I sat down and screwed the lid off the jar, and Agent Hall hopped up next to me.

  We sat there for a few minutes passing the jar back and forth in silence, just looking up at the stars. After her third or fourth sip, Agent Cutie-Pie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Bubba?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you think I'm pretty?" I turned to look at her, just in case this was some kind of trick question, but she looked pretty sincere. A little banged up and maybe a little frayed around the edges, but I didn't expect a prom queen after driving her Suburban off a mountain. She was still pretty damn hot. Long blonde ponytail, strong features, full lips, long legs wrapped in a stark black pantsuit. She'd left the suit coat in the back of my truck, so she was sitting there in just a thin sweater, and I could tell that the boobs I'd felt pressing against my back the whole way up the mountain were nice and full, and I let my gaze linger there maybe a second or two longer than I should. I couldn't see anything about her that wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, so I had no idea why she was asking.

  "Yeah," I said. "I mean, you're frickin' hot, Agent Amy. You got a smokin' body, pretty face, nice hair, and you smell good, even after a car wreck. And that's hard to do."

  "So why haven't you put the moves on me? I read your folder. I figured you'd be hot after anything with a bra. But you haven't gotten out of line once."

  I gave her a cockeyed little grin. "You want me to get out of line?"

  "Maybe." She grinned back at me. "Or maybe I'm drunk."

  "You ain't drunk. You might have had enough to give yourself an excuse, but you ain't drunk." I leaned in and kissed her. Not some candy-assed peck on the cheek either, but a real-deal, full on kiss on the mouth with swapping spit and hands tangled in hair and the whole business. I even closed my eyes.

  Then SNAP, I wasn't sitting on the tailgate of my truck anymore. I was standing on the back deck at my house, looking out over Lake Lure in the North Carolina mountains. I had my hands tangled in Laura's hair, and she had her arms wrapped around my middle. Her auburn locks ran through my fingers as we stood there kissing through the sunset, then I picked her up and set her down on the porch rail so our faces were level with each other. I pulled her close, feeling her mash into my chest like we were trying to become one person. I could feel her heart beat through my shirt, and I felt it speed up as my hands played over her back. I pulled back for a second to look in her eyes --

  And SNAP, I was back, looking at Agent Hall sitting on my truck, one long lock of straight blonde hair playing down over her cheek where it had come loose from her ponytail. I jerked back from her so fast she almost fell off the tailgate.

  "What's wrong? I didn't bite you, did I?" She said, a flirty gleam in her eye. Her face went still when she got a good look at me, and she sat up straight.

  "I'm sorry. I can't do this." I said quietly. I stood up, put the top back on the 'shine and put it away in the truck. I walked back around the back of the pickup and picked up my bag.

  "Is it Laura?" She asked, not looking up at me.

  My head snapped up. "What do you know about Laura?"

  "I know a lot of the story, Bubba. It was awful, and I'm sorry you went through that, but it's been a long time. Haven't you kissed a woman since then?" She hadn't looked at me yet, and I was pretty glad about that. I didn't want to deal with the look on her face.
I'd seen it before, in all its shapes and sizes. It's that look that says you're broken, and they don't know what to do about it.

  "Just women with dollars in their garters, Agent Hall."

  "I think after that you can call me Amy. Do I have to keep calling you Bubba?"

  "For now. I think that's probably best. Now let's go get some sleep and try to forget that whole thing ever happened. Tomorrow you gotta get a new Suburban and I gotta go find Bigfoot."

  "We gotta go find Bigfoot."

  "Yeah, we'll talk about that tomorrow. Meet me for breakfast about noon?" It was after four, and I needed some sleep before I made any more real bad decisions.

  "Sounds good. But I don't want to forget anything. See you tomorrow." She grabbed her duffel and walked into the hotel, leaving me to watch her go and put the tailgate up.

  "That sounded interesting." Skeeter's voice rang out in my head, quieter than normal. I forgot he was listening. But Skeeter was always listening.

  "I don't want to talk about it."

  "Okay. But I think she might have other ideas."

  "Women usually do." I pressed the button on the Bluetooth and went inside to get some sleep.

  *****

  I didn't sleep much, but after half a decade hunting monsters that's pretty normal. Three or four hours a day does me about righteous, so I didn't look too rough when I knocked on Amy's door a few minutes after noon the next day. I'd tossed on a clean Van Halen t-shirt and yesterday's blue jeans, but they didn't have too much mountain dirt on them, and no blood, so they were as clean as anything I had with me. I even combed my hair before I pulled it into a ponytail, getting a smartass comment from Skeeter about me getting all dressed up.

  "Hey there!" Amy said brightly, pulling the door open and standing behind it. "Come on in and have a seat. I'm not quite ready yet." I saw what she meant when I stepped through the door. She was dressed, at least partway, in black dress pants and pointy-tied boots, but she hadn't quite made it all the way to putting a shirt on yet. I leaned against a wall and admired the view as she jiggled around the room in her bra and pants. It was a nice bra, black with some lace, and I put my video glasses in my pocket just to shut Skeeter up while I enjoyed the view.

  "Sorry," she said, pulling on a long-sleeve burgundy t-shirt with a v in the front low enough to keep my interest. "I was checking emails and got a little behind."

  "You always check email topless?" I said, grinning at her. "I might learn to video conference."

  "Just when I've got a good-looking guy picking me up." She grinned back and strapped on her shoulder holster. I watched as she tucked a couple of knives in her boots, then slid a couple of throwing knives into an arm sheath.

  "You always pack that much hardware when you're expecting a man in your hotel room?"

  "Depends on the guy. Let's boogie. My new ride should be here by now."

  "Already?" I'm amazed, impressed and a little shocked anytime the government does something quickly.

  "Oh yeah. With the gear I have to carry in my SUV they were pulling that thing out of the woods at first light. Wouldn't do to have that stuff fall into the wrong hands."

  I was a little worried now that I'd been so close to her vehicle. "What kind of stuff, like radioactive crap?"

  She laughed as she slid into a lightweight jacket, making all her weapons disappear from view. Well, not all of them. Some of her weapons were nicely accented by the cut of her jacket, come to think of it. "No, like magical crap. I've got some things in there that are a little hard to explain, so I usually keep a fake video camera case in there so I can pretend to be shooting a movie. Let's go."

  Sure enough, there was a sparkly new Suburban sitting in the hotel parking lot, with a key waiting at the front desk for Amy. I jumped in my truck and followed her out of town back to the spot where she and Spider had their run-ins with Bigfoot. We found a place to pull off and park, and I walked up to her SUV.

  "What's the plan, Secret Agent Lady?"

  "Just doesn't sound as good as the song, does it?" She replied.

  "Nope, but you definitely ain't a Secret Agent Maaaa-aan." I gave her a good look up and down and leered a little for emphasis. She must have gotten the point, because she hit me on the arm and laughed.

  "The plan is I change into some hiking boots, we go up the hill and look for the furry bastard that ran me off the road last night." She proceeded to do just that, grabbing a worn pair of leather boots from behind the seat.

  "Did they move all your shit from your old Suburban to this one for you, too?"

  "Yep."

  "I gotta get me some minions."

  "What am I? Chopped liver?" Skeeter said from my earpiece.

  "No, Skeeter, you ain't chopped liver. You're a bona fide African-American homosexual computer genius with the social skills of a four-year-old and the physical prowess of Stephen friggin' Hawking. So as minions go, you ain't much good for the heavy lifting."

  "Fair enough." He said, but I could tell he was pouting a little.

  "Hey, look on the bright side, genius. I just compared you to Stephen Hawking." He laughed, and I went back to the truck to gear up. Bertha went into her shoulder rig, my survival knife went into a belt sheath, and I threw on a flannel shirt to cover them up. Then I slid Granddaddy's sword over my shoulder and dropped my brass knuckles into a back pocket.

  I turned around, and Amy was standing just a little too close for comfort. I looked down at her, saw those pretty blue eyes staring up at me and it was all I could do not to bend down and kiss her right there in the middle of the woods. Instead I slid past her to the edge of the woods and said, "Let's do this."

  There hadn't been any rain in that part of Virginia for a couple weeks, so there was no huge footprint in the dirt on the side of the road to lead us to our quarry. A few minutes after we started scouring the woods for sign, Amy found a couple of freshly broken branches and waved me over.

  "I'm no tracker, but I think this might be the way he came from."

  "How do you know it was a he? I asked.

  "Well Bubba, it's not like I was specifically looking for that or anything, but that beast had the biggest damn penis I've ever seen." She blushed a little, like she was embarrassed to notice.

  "Why is that the first thing everybody notices about this critter?"

  "The fact that you're asking proves that you haven't seen it." This time her voice was more tinged with awe than embarrassment.

  "Damn, woman, between you and Spider I'm starting to have a complex about this monster."

  "I'm sure you don't have anything to worry about, Bubba."

  "I'm suuu-uuuuure!" Skeeter sang in my ear. I pushed the blue button and he winked into silence. I love Skeeter, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. And comparing my junk to Bigfoot's is right about there. I stomped off up the hill, following the occasional broken branch or bent sapling as it led us further back into the mountains.

  We followed the trail for another twenty minutes or so, and then we crested a rise and looked down into a holler between two ridges. There was a cave leading back into the side of the mountain, with all the vegetation beaten down in front of it. I waved Amy over and pointed to it.

  "That looks like it." I said.

  "Your grasp of the obvious is spectacular." She snarked back at me.

  I swatted her on the ass and she yelped. "Don't get smart with me, young lady." I grinned at her as she rubbed her stinging butt cheek.

  "Young lady? How old do you think I am?"

  "I dunno, twenty-something." I learned a long time ago that it's safer to shoot about five years low in any age-guessing competition when a woman's involved. I pegged her for about twenty-eight, but if she thought I thought she was twenty-three, the chances of me seeing her without her shirt on again were decidedly increased.

  "Nice try, hillbilly. I'm thirty-four." Thirty-four C, maybe, I thought, then shook my head to wipe that image away. We had work to do, and thinking about boobs was not going to help. I was surpr
ised, though. She was a lot closer to my age than I figured. I smiled a little as I turned back to survey the cave.

  "What's the plan, Agent Hot-Pants?"

  "We go down there, see if anything's home, and we either bag it, or tag it."

  "You think you can catch Bigfoot?"

  "Probably not. That's why I brought the gun. But if we can bring it in to be studied, that's our first choice."

  "And I guess I'm just here to carry the unconscious monster back out across my shoulders?"

  "That thought had occurred to me. And they are such nice, broad shoulders, too." She rubbed her hands across my shoulders, and whispered in my ear. "And I'd be soooo grateful for your help." I was very glad that I'd turned off Skeeter's comm link.

  "Did anyone think to ask if I wanted to be studied?" The voice came from just a few feet behind us, and was James Earl Jones deep. I jumped up and found myself face to face with Bigfoot.

  Or really face to sternum. I'm tall. Like, six-four or six-five tall. But this dude coulda made any NBA center green with envy. He was seven and a half feet tall if he was an inch, and probably closer to eight feet. He was covered in thick, brown fur, and everything I'd been told about his endowment was hidden, because the monster was wearing pants. Or the remnants of pants, anyway. It looked like a cut up pair of sweatpants that frayed to nothing right above his knees.

  "You can talk?" I asked.

  "So can you. Congratulations, your parents must be so proud." Then he punched me in the jaw and I went down like a sack of potatoes. I've been hit by a lot of monsters, but that son of a bitch packed a bigger wallop than any werewolf, vampire or rakshasa I'd ever fought. My legs went to jelly and I collapsed right in my spot. I didn't pass out, but it took me quite a few seconds to get my feet working again.

  While I was laying on the ground trying to figure out where my arms and legs were, the bigfoot stepped over to Amy and looked down at her. "Why don't you put that away?" He said, gesturing towards her sidearm. Amy looked scared half out of her gourd, but she had the pistol pointed at the monster's midsection and her finger on the trigger, which was a good place to start.