Support Your Local Monster Hunter

by Dennis Liggio

  Introductions made, they sat down. "This is the guy you were telling us about?" said Famous Ray, a vague note of disgust or disappointment in his voice. I suddenly reconsidered the Lem introduction. Lem deserved a better class of dudes that Negative Ned here.

  "Whoa, that looks severe!" said Manny, looking at my bandage. I wasn't sure if I still needed the bandage, so I had kept it on. My head hurt, but I didn't know how much the bandage was doing for me. When I didn't respond, Manny's awe turned to concern. "Are you sure you should be drinking?"

  "Szandor here is made out of sturdy stuff!" said Dickie. "He's stout, like a beer!" I couldn't tell if Dickie was already drunk or maybe stoned. Wasn't it a bit early for - what time was it? I didn't even know what time of day it was, maybe it was night already. A part of me realized that this was probably just normal Dickie and I was the one who was different.

  "So what, he performs under the name Headwound Harry?" said Famous Ray. I immediately decided Famous Ray was famous for being a prick.

  "What's your fucking problem?" I said. "You came to see me. You're not one word in to conversation and already being an ass."

  "Who are you calling an -" started Ray.

  "No, it's fine, it's fine, we're all fine," said Dickie, waving his hands and settling down Ray. "We're all friends here. No need to act like animals."

  "Animals?" said Ray with an eye raise.

  "Filthy fucking animals!" said Dickie with a smile. "Jackasses! Jocks! Throwing around your weight so you can see where you are in the hierarchy! Y'know, the assholes we play music criticizing?"

  It was subtle, but it was a nice way of telling Ray to back off without actually telling him it to his face. I could see why Dickie was the leader of the band and just how Ray would need to be dealt with. Ray was a handful and I was glad he wasn't my problem. Ray reluctantly nodded and decided to look over toward the bar as that suddenly was much more interesting than us.

  "So I... well, we wanted to know if you had considered my offer any more," said Dickie.

  "Offer?" I said.

  "To join Avalon X," said Dickie.

  "He's told us all about you, and we're real excited to hear what you got!" said Manny.

  I shook my head sadly, which actually hurt. "I've had some other stuff on my mind," I said while pointing to the bandage.

  Manny thought this was funny and chuckled while Dickie shook his head vaguely with a frown. "C'mon, man," said Dickie. "You should consider it. I know shit's sucked lately, but I think getting back to your roots in punk would help. You need to get up there and sing your fucking throat out in bars that barely pay us in front of an audience even more poorly dressed than we are! It'll do you good! And this, this is the perfect time for it! We need a singer, you need to sing - or whatever you want to call it - and together, we can meet both our needs!"

  "I still say we should go for a chick singer," said Famous Ray.

  "You be quiet," said Dickie. "We've been over that and this is the time for making friends, not for being negative!"

  "Look, I appreciate the offer and thinking of me -" I started.

  "Oh no, no need to be so hasty!" said Dickie. "There's still plenty of time for you to think about it. Quick decisions aren't always the best!"

  "You're just saying that because you think the longer it takes me, the more likely I am to say yes," I said.

  "Wow, it's like he knows you!" said Manny to Dickie with a smile.

  "Most of my life," said Dickie. "Which is why I know he's right for us."

  "Or it's a charity case," said Famous Ray.

  "You know, man, even I'm getting sick of your negative crap," said Manny.

  "I just think that -" started Ray.

  "We voted and you lost, man," said Manny. "We're not bringing your roommate in."

  Ray frowned but said nothing.

  "I just don't see any time in the foreseeable future when I'd be down for it," I said. "I've got shit going on. I'm trying to get back into work after the hospital. I got no money. My funding campaign is crap right now."

  "I know, I checked it, a damn shame," said Dickie. "You need a better video."

  "The only video I have legally implicates me," I said. "So that's not going up."

  "Heh, funny, man," said Manny.

  "I just don't have time, so stop asking," I said. "If I change my mind, I'll get in touch with you. But I doubt you want to wait."

  "We have time," said Dickie. "We want the right person over a hasty decision."

  "But we can't wait forever," said Ray.

  "Then find someone else," I said. "Audition some other vocalists. Chick singers, if Ray here has such a hard on for the idea. Maybe his roommate is fine. But I don't have the time!"

  "But maybe - hear me out - maybe you do," said Dickie. "Maybe life is just about to make an opportunity for you."

  "What?" I said.

  Dickie shook his hands in front of him, as if to clear the air of what he said. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. I'm just saying. This, this is the opportunity for you. You'll find time. You can always find time."

  I was getting annoyed. "I told you no already. That's my answer. Whether it's time or interest, no!" I got up from my seat. I still had that dark cloud lingering, so my anger rose quicker than usual. I decided that now I didn't want to be around anyone.

  "Whoa, slow down, slow down, we're just talking, we're cool," said Dickie.

  "I'm just going to go. Head wound, gotta rest it." I vaguely pointed to my head.

  "You don't have to, we're all friends here," said Dickie.

  "Well, then you guys all be friends together, and I'm going to go the fuck home."

  As I was leaving, I heard them behind me.

  "Seems like our great potential new singer is an asshole," said Famous Ray.

  "Piss off," said Dickie and Manny together.

  Thank You For the Venom

  When I awoke the next morning, I was finally feeling like myself again. No headache, and the aches and pains I felt seemed just like what I'd feel after a regular fight while out hunting. I took the bandage off my head and finally had a long shower.

  I hadn't heard from Meat at all after everything had happened. I knew it hadn't gone as planned and I probably had acted a little rashly, but I still figured we'd have some sort of post mortem about the Spiders and the truck. Since he hadn't tried to schedule that, I called him. Unfortunately, I got his voice mail. I left a message and figured he'd call me when he was available.

  I called Paulie after that. I hadn't heard from him about the next time we were going out. If I was still bound to doing ride-alongs, I needed to know when they were happening. I wanted to hunt again. I wanted to do something. I got Paulie's voice mail, but I wasn't surprised. Sometimes he screened his calls. I left a message and asked for him to call me back.

  Not long after that, I got a phone call, but it wasn't Meat or Paulie. It was Mikkel.

  "Hey, how are you doing?" I asked. My mood was good. Sure, I had plenty of things to be regretting, but the lack of headache, pain, and whatever else a concussion did to me had me feeling good. I could probably avoid regret for a little while before it caught up with me.

  "I'm fine, brother," said Mikkel, but his tone didn't seem fine. It seemed tense. "So... I'm calling because I'm having a little party over here tonight."

  "Really? You're not the party type," I said.

  "It's just a small little thing," he said, his voice flat. "Can I count on you to be there? Say around nine?"

  "Sure," I said. "But are you okay? You sound a little off."

  Mikkel sighed audibly. "Just be there, okay?" He hung up.

  I shrugged. My mood helped me screen out all signs of impending doom.

  I checked out my FundstarterGoGo campaign. Still no money to speak of. I was never going to hit my goal at this rate. My campaign needed a bump. I realized I still needed a new video, and that could be why no one was backing me. I plugged my camera into my shitty computer I had so far avoided pawning and w
ent over the footage on it. I skipped through the truck footage; it was hard to watch anything related to the event again. I ended up turning it off before I got very far. It hurt to see and I knew I couldn't use it, since it would implicate me in the gas station explosion. Instead, I checked over the footage from Mikkel and I in the drainage tunnels. It was indeed in night vision gray as I expected. Unfortunately, it just wasn't very good video. While the little camera could do night vision, it didn't mean it looked good. Whenever there was quick movement and action, the video got pixilated. It was like a low budget horror movie and not in a good way.

  This confirmed that I was still without a worthwhile video for my campaign. Now more than ever I needed to get out and hunt. I needed to film myself in action. But constraining that was my promise to Mikkel that I wouldn't go out on my own. So I needed something to come up. I bummed around a few hours but still hadn't heard from Meat nor Paulie. I gave them both another call, leaving another message on each of their voice mails. Was something big going on? Some huge job I didn't know about?

  I put it out of my mind and started getting ready for the party. I heard my phone ring while I was putting on a new shirt and happily ran over to it, expecting it to be Meat or Paulie. Instead, it was Dickie. I was still a little annoyed at him from the night before, but he was my best friend. You get over shit like that.

  "What's up, man? Wanna go out drinking?"

  "Nah," I said. "I got this little party over at Mikkel's. Wanna come with me? We could hit the bars after."

  There was a pause. "Nah, Szandor, that sounds lame. Why don't you and I go out? A long night of binging on the best and worst alcohol this side of town, talking shit, making mischief. Two Princes of Avalon, out on the town, no family, no weird girlfriends, no problems, no cares."

  "Dude, I already told you I'm going over my brother's."

  "But what if - what if we do something even better than that? I really think we could have a great night."

  "Then we do that tomorrow," I said, exasperated. "Is this about the band thing again? Is this some hard sell about the band?"

  "It's not about the band," he said tersely. "I'm just trying to help you out."

  "Help me out with what?" I asked, my voice hostile.

  "It is just my belief that your night will go better if we go out, just the two of us," his voice was strangely serious, his words carefully picked.

  "I don't like this, something's going on."

  "Yes!" he said with sudden excitement. "Exactly!"

  "Really, stop trying to get me into Avalon X."

  "This isn't about Avalon X!" he said in annoyance. "Forget about the damn band!"

  "I'm trying to, but you keep bringing it up!"

  "Forget the fucking band! Are you not listening?"

  "What the fuck am I supposed to listen to? More fucking band pitches?"

  "Goddammit, Szandor, sometimes you are the biggest goddamn idiot I know!"

  "I'm an idiot? Fuck you, Dickie. I don't even want to go out drinking now. Bye."

  I hung up the phone. My good mood was now gone. This seemed a bad week for arguments.

  I finished getting dressed, trying to avoid dwelling on why my best friend seemed like a pushy jerk all of a sudden. Before I left, I spied the wine bottle on the kitchen counter. Would it be appropriate to bring the wine bottle to the party? Yasmin had brought it over for a romantic peace-making evening, but that ended up in an argument. Would it be some weird further insult if I brought it to a party for everyone to drink? I finally decided that since she left it at my apartment it was mine now, so I could do whatever I damn well pleased with it. I swiped it off the counter on the way out and headed over to Mikkel's.

  The evening was nice. There was a brisk feeling in the air. The night sky wasn't cloudy, so the moon was bright. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any stars; that was a common problem in the city limits. I walked down to Chinatown, sticking to the streets that either hadn't been affected by the Spring's arson or that had already been rebuilt. Chinatown was being built back quickly. The city seemed to care a lot more for Chinatown than North Egan.

  I climbed the stairs to Mikkel's apartment and knocked on the door, a rat-tat-tat that still had some spring in it, trying to keep my mood high for the party. There was a good thirty second pause before the door opened, even though Mikkel's apartment isn't big enough that he would be far from the door. He finally opened the door, seeing it was me. He wasn't smiling, his face muted of any emotion.

  "Come in," he said.

  I stepped in and Mikkel shut the door behind me. Just stepping through the door, I could feel that this wasn't a party. Despite people being there, there was no fun, bouncy atmosphere. There was no music, the television was off. There was more of an awkward feeling, almost an icy chill in the air. Everyone was on the couch and the furniture had been moved around.

  "Sit down," said Mikkel, directing me to an armchair that was set off to the side.

  Still holding the wine bottle, I sank into the armchair and assessed the situation. Mikkel sat down on the couch, where I saw a line of people I knew. They all sat nervously, most of them holding a piece of paper in their lap. First was Yasmin. If my danger sense hadn't been blaring before this, it sure was now. Her face was tense and for the moment, she wasn't meeting my gaze. Next to her was Carly, Mikkel's girlfriend. Her blonde hair was styled to be flipped to one side of her head and curly. She was pretty, though she had never been my preferred type of pretty. She also was always the big intellectual and poor old me never measured up to what she felt was respectable. Next was my brother. He was perhaps the most uncomfortable, and when he sat down he let out a long sigh. He had a frown on his face. Last in line was Lem. Mikkel's best friend, Lem always looked like he was out of an Eighties hair metal show. He had long light brown hair, a flannel shirt, and a Rush T-shirt. Despite this look, he was a computer programmer by trade. I was friends with him too, but not the way Mikkel was. Lem seemed confused, as if not quite sure what they were doing.

  "What the fuck is all this?" I said. Something was very wrong and I found myself very agitated.

  Glances were exchanged and I guess it had been established who would speak.

  Carly spoke first. "Szandor, we've gathered all your friends and loved ones here to talk to you."

  "Fuck you, you're not my friend, you're my brother's girlfriend." Something was all wrong here, and it was all focused on me. I felt like I was now backed into a corner, so I was lashing out. Besides, all my friends? Where was Dickie? What about Paulie and Meat? Suddenly Dickie's weird behavior on the phone made a bunch of sense. He wasn't coming and he was trying to prevent me from coming here.

  "Ahem, Szandor, we've gathered all your friends and loved ones here to talk to you," said Carly, trying to roll over my interruption. "Including me. I care for you."

  "Bullshit," I said.

  "Let her speak, brother," said Mikkel.

  "We've gathered here today, because you have a problem," said Carly. "You have a recklessness, a carelessness that is out of control. You put yourself into danger as if you have an addiction to it. Recent events have shown us how extreme this addiction has become. Because we all care for you, we've come to you today to get you to stop. We don't want to see it destroy your life anymore."

  "Is... is this an intervention?" I said. Nobody responded, but I scanned their faces, seeing the sadness, frustration, and the eyes that wouldn't meet mine. "Holy fuck, this is an intervention! Holy shit!" I had seen this before on one of Yasmin's docu-drama shows.

  "We brought you here so you can make a choice," continued Carly. "We can't stand by and watch you kill yourself with this behavior. We ask that you stop pursuing your addiction to danger and reckless stupidity in your decisions. If you continue on that path, we cannot be friends with you anymore."

  "I can't believe this is happening," I said.

  Carly nudged Yasmin, who lifted her piece of paper to read. "Szandor," read Yasmin, keeping her eyes on the paper and off me,
"we have had some good times together. You are someone I care about deeply. But if you persist in putting yourself into dangerous situations without any concern for your wellbeing, I cannot be part of your life anymore. We will cease being friends and our relationship will be over. You and I will not have any contact. Will you please consider stopping your behavior?"

  When she started speaking, I rolled my eyes and decided I should start drinking. Luckily, the bottle of wine Yasmin had picked out was a cheaper brand and had a screw top. So I unscrewed the bottle and took a long swig. Wine wasn't whiskey, but it would do when I was seeking a buzz or something to numb the world. When Yasmin finished her spiel, she was not impressed with my drinking nor my reaction to her indictment of my character.

  "Would you take this seriously?" said Yasmin in frustration.

  I said nothing, only giving her the finger and taking another drink, the bottle higher than my eyes.

  "Hey!" said Yasmin, but Carly nudged her to be quiet, as it was her turn to lay into me.

  "Szandor," started Carly, needing less of her notes than Yasmin. "You and I have often not seen eye to eye on a variety of issues. But despite that, I consider you a friend and care about your well being. Like everyone else here, I have been troubled by your recent behavior. I believe that by stopping your recklessness, you will benefit both yourself and the ones who love you. Today I plead to you, please stop this dangerous trend in your life. If you do not, I will be forced to end our friendship and cut all contact. Will you please accept our help in changing your ways?"

  "Your friendship will not be missed," I said in between sips of wine. "I mean, we've never been friends. You don't care. You only care because you think I'm going to get Mikkel killed - which I would never do. Seriously, this thing is a big goddamn farce."

  Carly said nothing, her lips simply drawn into a tense line. She instead just turned and nodded to my brother. Mikkel looked down at his notes and then looked at me, pausing, maybe unsure.