"I don't think so. Why don't you get down on your belly and I won't shoot you?"
The creature chuckled, a low. Rumbling sound that reminded me more of a thunderclap than a laugh. His hand flashed out almost quicker than my eye could follow and smacked the gun out of Amy's hand. I watched the sun glint off the barrel as it flew end-over-end into the underbrush. That's probably not good. I thought as I struggled up to my hands and knees.
It looked back at me and growled, "Stay down, Hunter. I don't want to hurt you. Much."
"Can't say as I feel the same way, furball." I'd made it to my feet by this point, and my vision had cleared to the point that there were only two monsters in front of me, a damn big improvement in just the last ten seconds or so. I had one hand wrapped around the trunk of a birch sapling, and the other was pawing around in my shirt for Bertha. I couldn't quite make my hand cooperate, so I lurched to an upright position and went at the monster barehanded.
That worked out about as well as you'd expect when three hundred some pounds of concussed redneck goes after five hundred some pounds of perfectly healthy monster. The bigfoot stepped aside, planted a foot on my ass and shoved me back to the ground. I landed flat on my face, and managed to roll over just in time to see a foot even bigger than mine slam into the turf next to my head. I started to scramble to my feet again, but had to use another tree to hold myself upright.
"Oh to hell with this." The monster said, turning back to Amy. "You're coming with me. Hunter, if you stay here I promise to return her to you unharmed. If you follow me, I make no promises about your safety or hers." Then he picked Amy up, tossed her over one shoulder, and ran off through the woods. I took a couple of steps after them, but my head was swimming too much for me to walk a straight line. I gave up after a few seconds and sat down on a rock.
I put my head between my knees and after a couple of long minutes the nausea passed. When I could move my head without seeing double or vomiting, I pressed my Bluetooth button. "Skeeter, I need some help."
"I was wondering when it would come to this. There's a Z-Pak in the first aid kit. If the burning sensation doesn't go away after the antibiotics are gone, you'll have to see a doctor."
"What? No! That ain't the problem, Skeeter. Damn! You think I don't know...anyway, that's not the issue. We found the bigfoot."
"Good. That was kinda the job."
"Yeah, couple a problems with that."
"That don't sound good, Bubba. And why don't I hear that hot-assed little government agent in the background."
"That's one of the problems. This bigfoot? He knocked me cold and took Amy."
"Amy?"
"Agent Hall. He took her off into the woods somewhere, and I've got no idea where they went. I couldn't follow them, and once they got over the next ridge I lost sight of them."
"So it's Amy now, huh? I think you might have some 'splainin' to do when you get home, young man." I could almost hear the stupid grin on Skeeter's face through the phone.
"That ain't what we're talking about right now, Skeeter. I need you to track her cell phone and get me to her before the monster does something to her."
"Do you have her number?" I dug around in my jeans and realized I didn't have anything with her phone number on it.
"No."
"Alright, that woulda helped, a lot, but I think it's pretty safe to say that if I find your signal -- there it is -- now I look for the nearest cell signals to yours that aren't in cars I oughta be able to lock in on Agent Hall in just a second. Okay, I've got two choices here Bubba. One is stationary to your northwest, and the other is moving slowly to the southeast. Wait, that one's stopped now, too. Which one do you think is her?"
I am a blessed individual in many ways. I'm bigger and stronger than most men just because of genetics, and my stunning good looks and sparkling wit have been remarked upon by many members of the opposite sex. But I was not born with a sense of direction. At all. To put it kindly, I could get lost in a phonebooth. So I had no friggin' idea which way was northwest and which way was southeast. I was just about to admit this failing to Skeeter when my hand brushed the butt of my survival knife. Then I got a grin on my face like it was free pitcher night at the strip club. I pulled my knife and turned until the compass in the handle told me I was facing north, then looked around to see which way the creature had taken Amy.
"Southeast." I said.
"You sure?"
"I got a compass. On my knife."
"Fair enough. You head that way, I'll tell you when you're getting close." I started off after the monster and the hottie, thinking that this was how a lot of bad things happened in the movies.
I clumped through the woods for about twenty minutes 'til Skeeter whispered in my ear "Should be just up ahead and a little to the left." Sure enough, I came to a small clearing with a cave set into the mountainside. A huge rock overhang masked the entrance so much that I'd have never seen it if I hadn't know to look for it. I slipped the brass knuckles on my right hand and put my back to one wall of the cave, moving in as quietly as possible.
I'd gone maybe thirty yards into the cave when I started to hear voices. One voice, mostly, the creature on some kind of rant with the occasional interjection from Amy. I peered around a corner and saw the monster standing not ten feet away. This would be a very bad time for this thing to have enhanced senses. Luck was with me for a change, and the creature kept its back to me.
I stepped into the light and took in the surroundings with a glance. Amy was sitting on the floor with her back pressed against the wall of the cave. There was a small fire built in a far corner, venting up into a crack in the rocks. The cave was about thirty feet across, with a stack of books in one corner and a pile of random cooking implements and camping gear piled next to it. I didn't want to think too much about what had happened to the owners of that gear, so I just stepped into the light and took a swing at the back of the monster's head.
I must have scuffed the floor or something, because the creature whirled around and got one arm up before my brass-encased fist connected with its head. It swung for my face in return, but I managed to duck out of the way. Barely. This monster was fast. I felt its fist whizz over my head and I threw a solid left into its gut. It didn't flinch, and my prospects in the fight just dimmed even further.
"You should have stayed down, Hunter. Now I'm going to have to hurt you."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't keep up my normal half-witty repartee and keep those mammoth fists from crushing my skull, so I didn't even try. I bobbed and weaved a few more punches before I was able to land a solid right across the monster's jaw. Its head rocked back and its eyes crossed for a second, then it shook its head and charged me.
I had no time to get out of the way, I just barely managed to get my arms free as the bigfoot nailed me with a picture-perfect shoulder tackle that slammed me into the wall of the cave like a wide receiver with the bad judgment to make fun of Troy Polamalu's haircut. I heard several ribs snap like pretzels as my chest, then my head slammed into the rock. The creature backed off, and I sagged to one knee. It stepped in close again, raising a big fist to finish me off, but I caught him square in the junk with a brass-knuckled uppercut and watched all the fight rush right out of the beast. I swear I hit that monster so hard in the balls his fur turned white.
The bigfoot dropped to its knees, clutching its jewels, and toppled over to one side in the dirt. I rushed over to where Amy was still sitting in the dirt, trying to keep from getting squashed by any of the flying giants in the cave.
I knelt beside her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. What about you? You hit that wall pretty hard."
"Broke a few ribs. I'll be fine in a couple days."
"A few broken ribs and you'll be okay in a few days? More like six weeks, don't you mean?"
"I heal fast. Two weeks at most and I'll be good as new. But let's get you out of here before Bug Ugly over there manages to find his feet past his swollen nuts and decides to ri
p my head off and shit down my neck."
"Too late, asshole." The monster's voice had sounded educated, even cultured, until now. Now he just sounded pissed.
I turned around and sprang to my feet, only to walk right into a body blow from that humongous fist. I heard another rib crack, and saw stars for a second. I did manage to get my arm up to block the roundhouse left coming for my jaw, and flicked out a quick kick at the monster's left knee. He danced back out of range, then threw a kick of his own straight at my face. I got down under the kick but still felt it whizz by my face close enough for me to see the monster had a little athlete's foot. I lunged forward and threw a couple of body blows of my own, knocking the creature onto its back and giving myself a little room to breathe.
"Get out of here." I said over my shoulder to Amy. "I'll hold it off until you get clear."
I didn't have time to check and see if she was doing like I said or not, because the bigfoot didn't have the common courtesy to stay on his ass when I knocked him there. It came at me again, lashing out with the claws on both hands. I ducked under his arms, threw a hard right into his ribs with the brass knuckles, then tossed the knucks aside as he barreled past.
I drew Bertha and lined up the sights with the back of the bigfoot's head. It arrested its charge and turned back to me, coming up short as it saw the gun aimed at its forehead. "Freeze, asshat." I said.
It froze.
"Now let's have a little chat. What did you want with Agent Hall? And don't bullshit me, because your life depends on your answers."
"I will be truthful. I needed to have a conversation with Agent Hall regarding her agency's activities and a potential conflict in the supernatural world."
"What kind of conflict?"
"I cannot discuss this with you. Your mission is to eradicate my kind, not to preserve the peace between the human and meta-human populations. As such, our interests will never be in accord and I cannot share information with you."
"Skeeter, what the hell did he just say?"
"He said that he won't tell you jack because you work for the Church, and the Church would rather shoot monsters than talk to 'em."
"I would, too. Most monsters need killin'. That's why I kill 'em. If they don't need killin' I let 'em live. There's bunches of monsters that I didn't kill."
"Is this true, Agent Hall?" The creature looked over my shoulder to where I reckoned Amy had ignored my suggestion to get the hell out of the small room with two giant hairy beasts fighting. I didn't turn around. I've fallen for some old tricks, but that's not one of them.
"He's telling the truth. He only kills the creatures that are attacking humans. I've seen him help a nest of vampires get safely out of Florida, and we have reports of several other meta-humans that he has had favorable interactions with."
"Well, isn't that interesting. A Church Hunter that doesn't kill everything in sight. It's like a pig wearing lipstick."
"Or a bigfoot with a thesaurus. Get to the point, Fuzzy." I wiggled Bertha's barrel at him to make sure I still had his attention.
"The point it that there's something bad coming. A new player has been recruiting meta-humans and preaching that we should come out of the shadows and take dominion over what is rightly ours. I disagreed with this new self-styled Messiah, and my pack drove me out."
"You have a pack?"
"Not anymore. Now I'm alone, just like that poor bastard in Washington. But that's not the point. The point is that I allowed myself to be seen so that someone from your agency would investigate, Agent Hall. This Messiah, he's bad news. He wants the vampires, the werewolves and the witches to come together in some kind of meta-human Council and come out of the closet once and for all."
"Where do you stand on this?" I asked.
"I don't want to rule anybody, and I especially don't want to have to rule humans. You people are crazy. I just want to be one with the mountains like my ancestors always have. Leave human problems to the humans, I say. But this guy, he's not interested in living and letting live. He's more like live and let wear slave collars."
I holstered Bertha and turned to look at Amy. "Now what? I can't shoot him now."
"And I'm not going to try to take him back to D.C. I've recorded his statement to take back to my superiors. We'll take care of it from here."
"Yeah, you're from the government and you're here to help. Right." I turned back to the bigfoot. "This Messiah? You know anything else about him except that he wants to bring all the bad guys together and rule humanity? What is he? Warlock? Vampire? Were-something?"
"He's a werewolf alpha. The biggest damn wolf I've ever seen. He's mastered the half-change, where he can still talk, but he's big and furry with all the claws and attitude of a full wolf."
My blood ran cold when I heard that description. I looked back at Agent Hall, who couldn't, or wouldn't, meet my eyes. I turned back to the bigfoot. "This wolf got a name, fuzzy?"
"Yes. He calls himself the Messiah, but when he speaks of his 'lesser name,' he says that he was called Jacob Marbury, and that he was a Hunter, so he knows how to defeat them. Do you know this name?"
"Yeah, I know him. He was a Hunter, once. Then he got turned and went nuts. He's bad news. Like they say in the movies, we're gonna need a bigger boat." I took a deep breath, trying to get myself back together. When I could speak again, I looked at the bigfoot. "Now that your message has been delivered, will you stop scaring the shit out of people around here?"
"Of course. I swear that no one in this region will ever know I am here again unless I need to contact Agent Hall again."
"Try a pay phone next time. Because if I have to come back up here and traipse through the woods looking for your furry butt, I will not be happy." I turned and walked out of the cave, passing by Amy without a word. I could tell she'd known who this Messiah character was from the way she still wouldn't look at me.
I'd walked for about five minutes before Skeeter spoke in my ear. "You want to know where the truck is? 'Cause you're kinda going the wrong way."
"I don't care right now, Skeeter. I just need to be alone. 'Cause if I see another living thing right now I'm gonna put a bullet in it."
"You want me to hang up?" His voice was soft, no BS, no teasing, just my best friend trying to do whatever I needed.
"No. Stick around. You're good with this kinda shit."
"Yeah, and dealing with your feelings aren't your strong suit."
"That's why God made liquor, strippers, and football, Skeeter, so straight men never have to discuss their feelings." I tromped around in the woods for another half hour or so before I felt calmed down enough to let Skeeter lead me back to my truck. When I got there Amy was sitting on my tailgate.
"You know it's one thing when I invite you to sit on my tailgate, Agent Cutie-Britches. But it's another thing entirely when you just drop my tailgate when I ain't around and perch up there like Becky Thatcher or something waiting for me to come by and whitewash a fence."
"Tom Sawyer, Bubba?"
"I read, Agent Hall. Not too many books that don't have pictures in 'em, but I read a little."
"I thought we were past the 'Agent Hall' business?" She managed to look a little hurt, but I was starting to think she didn't know what the word meant.
"Yeah, well, I thought we were done keeping secrets, too."
"We didn't have confirmation that it was him until today. Sclaren was the piece we needed to figure out the Messiah's grand plan."
"Sclaren? Is that fuzzy's name?"
"Yes. He was the wise man of his pack until they cast him out for defying the Messiah."
"Doesn't seem too wise to me."
"You defied him. More than once, I believe."
"Yeah, look how that worked out." I opened the back door of the truck and started to repack my weapons into their cases. This time instead of putting Bertha into her case under the back seat, I popped the magazine, reloaded her with silver bullets and shoved her into a hidden pocket in the side of the driver's seat.
"Can you step back, I'm trying to stay pissed at you, but it's hard with that perfume."
She smiled a little, but she did take a step back. "Is that better?"
"Not really." I took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "I like you, Amy. You bring out something in me that's nice. Something in me that I thought was dead six years ago. But now I gotta put that on hold. Because now we both know there's something I've gotta do."
"And what is that, exactly, Bubba?" She looked up at me, a ferocity in her blue eyes that I hadn't seen before. It made me want to grab that ponytail and crush her mouth to mine. I wanted to throw her in the back seat of my F-250 and go at it like redneck teenagers after the Homecoming dance.
Instead I just looked down at her, kissed her on the forehead and said, "You know what I gotta do. I've gotta go kill this Messiah asshole. I've got to go kill my Daddy."
NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE END
Sixteens Tons
"You want to talk about it?" Skeeter's voice interrupted some seriously dark thoughts as I barreled down the highway in my F-250.
"No." I said into my Bluetooth headset.
"You sure? Sometimes it helps to talk these things out." Skeeter persisted. Skeeter's my best friend, my technological wizard and dispatcher for the Holy Roman Catholic Church, and the guy that's been there for me during some of the ugliest times of my life. But he ain't my therapist. And if I was the type of man who went to a therapist, a thirty-year-old African-American homosexual comic book nerd would not necessarily be my first choice. Especially one that answered to "Skeeter."
I took a deep breath before I answered. "Skeeter, the day I become the kind of guy that needs to talk things out, you have my permission to shoot me."
Scattered, Smothered and Chunked - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season 1 Page 19