Reprobates (The Bohica Chronicles Book 1)

by C. J. Fawcett

  It was late in the day, almost nightfall, when they drove into the three-headed monster’s territory.

  “Obviously, we can’t do anything tonight,” the Brit said. “So let’s set up camp. We can get it in the morning.”

  “Think we’ll get it first thing?” Roo asked.

  He shrugged. “One can hope. It seems like the dead swamp is quite the draw. It might be pretty easy to find one.”

  The next day, they started their search for the three-headed animal at the muddy wallow where they’d originally captured one. After several hours, they gave up. They hadn’t seen a single creature. Not even a giant butterfly.

  Booker hoped their luck hadn’t run out. He’d been so confident they’d be able to locate another easily.

  “Where to next?” Roo asked, stretching.

  “Let’s circle the rock on the way to the watering hole,” he said.

  Charles led the way. After a few minutes of quiet traveling, he held his fist up. His teammates halted. He indicated to his left and they looked to see one of the animals they were looking for.

  This was a giant—easily the size of a super-duty truck—and clearly an adult. The original one they’d caught had been an adolescent.

  The sleeping animal’s sides rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Its heads rested between the first set of its legs and its tail was tucked in along its side. The black-tipped stinger was easily a foot long. They could smell its faint sulfur scent from where they were standing.

  The men exchanged a look and it was clear they all agreed—it was too big. Charles signaled to move on, and they crept away.

  The animal heaved a sigh and rolled over. The team froze, the hair on the backs of their necks rising and their hearts pounding. The animal didn’t stir again and they kept creeping away.

  “At least we know they’re around,” Booker said when they were clear of the monster.

  “Too bad that thing was so huge. Do you think we could drag it behind the mule?” Roo asked, then winced. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I heard it when I asked.”

  “I imagine there’s a younger one nearby,” the Brit said. “Remember when we captured the first one? An adult had sounded like it was coming to the rescue. It was near enough to hear the cries but not close enough to reach us in time. Hopefully, they’re all sort of spread out like that.”

  They continued to the watering hole, where Charles selected the position they’d wait in.

  Booker’s observation had been correct. They had been lying in wait for an hour when an adolescent creature shambled out of the trees.

  It was bigger than the first one they’d caught but it was a quarter of the size of the adult.

  The men moved forward, ghosting through the trees. They spread out, surrounding the unsuspecting animal as it lowered its heads to drink.

  Charles signaled to Roo and Booker that he was moving in. They acknowledged and then he launched himself at it. He quickly had it pinned beneath him and pressed the middle head into the mud. His teammates were on top of their quarry as well. They taped its mouths shut before it had a chance to make much noise.

  Before the Brit could hogtie its legs together, the creature bucked. Charles, who had shifted his weight to allow the man access to the legs, became unsteady and was knocked further off-balance. The animal took its opening and scrabbled forward, managing to squirm out from under the large man.

  It made it about three meters away before Roo tackled it. A low growl rumbled from it, but the tape on its mouths prevented it from crying out. Its tail whipped and the stinger suddenly plunged forward. He had to roll out of the way to avoid being impaled.

  The mutant lashed its tail back and prevented Booker from closing in. It turned and glared at the three men, its six eyes blazing yellow fire.

  “This is for your own good,” the Aussie said.

  The three men closed in on it. Booker indicated for his teammates to surround it. They blocked its escape as best they could, keeping out of reach of its tail.

  “I don’t think it believes you,” the Brit muttered.

  “Well,” Roo said, then grunted as he launched himself forward. The animal slipped from his grasp. “Well, I’m lying out my ass so it shouldn’t believe me.”

  The creature, seeing an opening between the other two men, darted away. Charles spun and managed to hook an arm around its neck. Booker drew his knife and stabbed through the animal’s tail near the stinger. He used the blade to pin the tail to the ground where it twitched uselessly.

  “Hold this,” he instructed Roo. He tied the animal’s legs while the American held a head and the other man held its tail.

  Booker laid the net out.

  “Okay,” Charles said. “What side do we want to roll into the net first?”

  Roo, who was trying to avoid the animal’s blood as it oozed from around the knife, looked at the net, then back at Charles. “You have the bigger half of the animal. Let’s roll it heads-first into there. I’ll unpin its tail at the last moment.”

  “Should we wrap the tail up in something?” Booker asked.

  “What are we going to wrap it with?”

  He shrugged then held the tape. up

  Roo nodded. “That’ll work.”

  The Brit crouched and carefully bound the end of the animal’s stinger in duct tape. He layered it until it looked like the animal had a shiny silver balloon at the end of its tail.

  “You good?” Charles asked. Sweat was dripping off him as he tried to keep their quarry pinned to the ground. He had his knee digging between its shoulder blades, pressing it in place.

  “Do you think you can lift it up?” Booker asked, leaving Roo to the tail and returning to the heads.

  The large man nodded. “You going to slide the net underneath?”

  “It might be easier than you two trying to shove it on top of the net. I don’t think it’ll break through the ropes, but we should work smarter, not harder.”

  Charles nodded his agreement. He wrapped his arms around the animal’s chest. The position brought his face close to the animal’s scaly hide and he wrinkled his nose. “Fudge, this thing smells bad.”

  “Ready?” Booker asked. He nodded. “Okay. Three, two, one, lift.”

  He lifted the animal’s front off the ground and the other man shoved the net beneath it.

  “Now, Roo, unpin it and bring your end around.”

  The two men moved in tandem to push the creature in a half-circle motion so the bulk of its body was on the net. Charles grabbed the ends and cinched them shut, the captive folding in on itself inside. It struggled and thrashed, but it was secure.

  The three grinned at one another.

  “I’d say that went smoothly,” Roo said, looking down at their struggling prize. He tried to wipe the dirt and mud off his fatigues.

  “Why could no one do this before?” Charles asked, breathing hard.

  “Turns out all you need is an ex-Marine, an ex-SAS sergeant, and an ex-Aussie corporal to do the job,” Booker said.

  “Now that we have it, it’ll be smooth sailing,” Roo said. “Let’s go get paid!”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We still need to get it back alive,” Charles said.

  “Alive or freshly dead,” the Brit said. “Either way, we have the mule now and we should be able to get it back in no time.”

  They carried the animal between them back to where they’d left the mule. They strapped it onto the flatbed.

  Booker started driving. Charles and Roo flanked the vehicle, their weapons at the ready.

  They exited the animal’s territory as quickly and silently as they could. They didn’t see any more as they drove away.

  “Charles, I thought you said you’d fixed this problem,” Roo protested. He held his AK up and was surveying the area.

  Charles leaned over the mule’s engine and fiddled with the wiring. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it going in a jiff.”

  Booker sighed. He had his back to the Aussie and was sc
anning the opposite side, rifle up.

  They’d made it half-way back—by his calculations—when the mule had coughed once and died. Their captive struggled on the flatbed. Its movements shook the vehicle, making Charles’ job harder.

  He saw movement in the underbrush and focused on it. Suddenly, a large, green animal jumped from the trees, its claws extended. It whipped its tail in his direction and hissed, sounding like boiling water.

  “Ah, you’re one of those,” Booker said. He shot a few rounds at the monster’s chest. He knew that wouldn’t stop it, but it bought him some time.

  Two more of the mutants emerged from the trees. Roo opened fire.

  The animal’s poison sacks began expanding. The Brit sent a round into the sac at the animal’s back. It exploded, and the acidic saliva melted through its hide.

  He turned to the next attacker. From the corner of his eye, he saw Roo take out one of his creatures.

  Three more emerged from the tree line. They hissed and whipped their spiked tails at the men.

  “Any time now, Charles!” the Aussie yelled. Two of the animals launched an attack, forcing him back a few steps.

  One darted forward when the two men were occupied. It sank its teeth into one of their captive’s legs, trying to take advantage of the young animal’s weakened state for an easy meal. The smaller creature screamed through its bindings.

  Charles whipped his Remington up and sent several slugs into the attacker’s chest. It fell off the back of the mule. Then, it hissed angrily. He fired at its expanding acid sac, which split.

  The American hopped onto the mule and turned the key. It coughed to life. “Yes!”

  He started driving. His teammates launched themselves onto the back and tried to avoid landing on their captive. Roo slipped on the blood that was beginning to coat the flatbed. Before he could catch himself, his elbow smashed into the animal’s side, knocking himself off-balance.

  He righted himself hastily and kept firing at the pursuing animals.

  Booker pulled their prize closer to the bucket seat and away from the drops of acid that were eating through the flatbed.

  Three of the acid-spitting mutants still followed them. The Brit grabbed one of his grenades and waited. When one of the animal’s acid sacs expanded, he pulled the pin on his grenade and threw it.

  “Go, go, go!” he yelled. Charles floored the mule and the vehicle leapt forward with a jerk.

  The grenade exploded on top of the animal’s back. Acid flew everywhere and the blast from the grenade took out the other two.

  Roo held up a hand and Booker high-fived him.

  “How’s our asset?” Charles asked. He was driving the mule faster than he should have, but he felt the urgency of the situation. The creature was injured, and they couldn’t risk it dying as rapidly as their previous captive had.

  Booker examined the animal. A chunk of its leg was missing and blood oozed up and spread on the flatbed. He wrapped a strip of cloth around the wound as best he could. The task was difficult enough through the net but was made even harder with the mule’s jolting.

  “It doesn’t seem that bad,” he said. “But we still should get back as fast as possible.”

  “You got it, boss,” Charles replied.

  Booker and Roo stayed on the mule, their weapons at the ready, as Charles drove. A few animals had tried to attack the trio, but they’d eliminated each threat before it was close enough to be a problem.

  The American swerved around a fallen tree and the vehicle bounced into the ruts of the road.

  “Almost home free!” he announced.

  Roo gave a yop.

  Booker looked over their prize again. The flesh around the injury was swelling. The bleeding had stopped, but pus was beginning to leak from the wound. He thought they would still be able to make it in time. There wasn’t as much pus as the previous animal had produced.

  “I can’t wait to see that asshole’s face when we bring him the three-headed bastard no one’s been able to bring in,” the Aussie said.

  Booker grinned. “It’ll be a good show.”

  His grin slipped from his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He pointed. His teammate looked and saw that Booker was indicating a bright red tri-flare burning to their left.

  “Stop the mule, Charles,” Booker said.

  “What?”

  “Just halt!”

  The man slammed on the brakes. “What’s going on?”

  The other two men pointed.

  “Oh.”

  “That’s the distress signal, right?” Booker asked.

  Roo nodded. “Yeah. It is. Shira’s told me that some people ignore it. Some even wait around for nature to run its course so they can salvage the bits left behind.”

  The three glanced at their prize strapped to the back of the mule. They looked at each other. The tri-flare burned deeper in the Zoo, but not out of their reach.

  Charles strapped his flamethrower on.

  Booker loaded another magazine into his MP5.

  “Ah, fuck. Why do we have to be the good guys?” Roo asked.

  They sprinted into the Zoo in the direction of the distress signal.

  The sounds of gunfire and the thunderous roar of an animal reached them before they were able to see what was going on. The sounds escalated the closer they got to the flare.

  They plunged through the jungle and hoped to reach the distressed party before it was too late.

  The three men arrived on the scene just in time to see a man get bitten in half. The animal was easily twenty feet tall. Its head was the size of a VW Bug and they recognized its teeth as the same kind that had been lodged in the mule’s tire. Eight eyes blazed shiny and red against its deep-green, scaly hide.

  Seven men remained. They fired desperately at the massive animal. It roared, swinging its heavy, spiked tail at the humans.

  A Humvee was rolled onto its roof, the side ripped open. Blood was splashed across the side and body parts were scattered in the small clearing.

  The new arrivals immediately opened fire. Booker and Charles aimed for its eyes, while Roo fired at the softer flesh under the animal’s legs.

  The men who had signaled for help glanced with weary gratitude at the reinforcements. Under their cover fire, the seven men dragged themselves beyond the monster’s reach. Most of them were badly injured and all were covered in mud and blood.

  Booker lobbed a grenade at the mutant, which only served to anger it further. It roared, the sound deafening. It moved forward and long claws dug into the Humvee as it pushed the vehicle out of its way.

  “Get back! We have to get cover,” Booker yelled.

  Charles wrapped an arm around the man nearest him. His foot was missing, and the American hauled him back into the relative cover of the trees. Booker and Roo helped the others.

  The animal didn’t seem in any hurry to reach the men. It took its time clawing forward. It destroyed everything in its path. Its claws splintered tree trunks as it started searching for the men.

  Charles lowered the man against a large tree trunk. He clung to him and gasped, “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”

  He patted his hand, already covered in the man’s blood. “You can thank me when we get you out of here.”

  The man nodded, trembling. Charles could see he didn’t believe what he’d said.

  He set his jaw and ran further into the trees. He was trying to flank the monster.

  Roo levered a grenade at the animal. It had much the same effect as Booker’s had. “Now would be the time for the Carl Gustav, huh?” he yelled to Booker.

  The animal closed in on the men in the trees. It reached around the trunk the one-footed man was hiding behind and sank its claws into the flesh of his remaining leg. He screamed and fired at the animal, but after three rounds, he was out.

  Booker tried to draw the mutant away, but it wouldn’t be deterred. It started dragging its victim from behind the tree. He scrabbled at the ground
, trying to stop the inevitable.

  A stream of fire erupted from behind the attacker. It released its hold on its prey, screaming and rearing back.

  Charles had positioned himself behind it. He fired another burst of flame at the enemy. It turned to face him, roared again, and whipped its tail angrily, the appendage splintering a tree and sending wooden shrapnel flying.

  A flaky black streak ran down its back where the flames had burned it. Booker and Roo fired along the burned area. Blood spurted where their rounds found purchase.

  The American pulled the trigger on the flamethrower again, lighting up the animal’s chest and half its face. The creature roared. It clawed desperately at the flames.

  It lunged toward Charles with a blood-curdling scream. He lowered the nozzle of the flamethrower, raised his Remington, and fired twice. One of the slugs glanced off the tough hide but the other managed to hit one of its eyes. The jerked its head back as blood arced from the now-empty eye socket. It staggered for a few steps.

  Booker and Roo kept up a steady barrage while several of the other men added their fire to assist. The American fired the flamethrower again, flames coursing off the monster’s skin. It was pinned between the two groups of men, howling in anger. Answering cries came from the surrounding jungle.

  “We’ve got to end this!” the Brit yelled.

  The flamethrower sputtered and died, the propane tanks empty. Charles dropped the nozzle and again raised his shotgun, ejecting the double-aught buck and chambering his twelve-gauge slugs. He aimed for the broad target of the animal’s blackened chest and fired again. The weakened hide split and one of the slugs punctured its lungs.

  The creature collapsed with an earth-shaking thud. It lay in a smoking heap, its blood soaking into the ground.

  He looked over the felled mutant and nodded to the men who stood on the other side.

  The team assisted the others in patching wounds as best they could with their limited resources.

  The Brit looked grimly at the one-footed man’s injuries. “We have to get you back as soon as possible.”

  He looked at his teammates.

  Roo nodded. “We have to help these guys out before we can go back and get the mule.”