Support Your Local Monster Hunter

by Dennis Liggio

  The house was dark, a squat single floor home surrounded by tall bushes. A chain link fence started at the house and surrounded the back yard, its own tall shrubbery cutting it off from assumedly disliked neighbors. The house didn't look vacant, but it wasn't very well maintained either. Had I grown up around here, I would have expected it the home of an old man who practically lived in his armchair with a shotgun always across his lap, rising only to yell obscenities at children if they dared use the sidewalk in front of his home.

  Kolchak and I walked up to the front door. We tried to peer through the windows to look inside for movement, but whoever lived here had wanted to prevent people from looking in, so the windows were all blocked with drapes and warded by bushes. That meant we were going in blind. However, we wanted the element of surprise, so we weren't breaking down the door and making lots of noise. So we instead looked at the front door's lock. Normally my brother and I are good at picking locks - at least the type of locks most people use. The vast majority of consumer-level locks are symbolic deterrents. They will stop crimes of opportunity, but anyone with enough will to get in will either have a bolt cutter, a pick set, a screwdriver, or the skills to get through it with enough effort. That assumes they didn't want to just break a window. This lock was not a friendly lock nor a light weight. This was a lock bought and installed by an expert locksmith employed by people who didn't want anyone in. Kolchak sighed as he knelt down and pulled out some tools. Maybe he'd get in, but I wasn't laying odds on that being soon.

  I decided to check the back. I wasn't sure if that would help. If they were putting so good a lock on the front, they probably had equally good deterrents elsewhere. Those that are conscious about security usually don't make rookie mistakes. But every so often I've seen where people put good security on the obvious entrance and then crappy security elsewhere. We got into the Clark Building with two farts worth of planning, and that place had biohazard lockdown protocols. Sometimes people plan poorly and sometimes, just sometimes, you get lucky.

  I was about to get unlucky.

  The backyard was ringed with the bushes and shrubs that went higher than the chain link fence. I couldn't see what was in the yard and the tall bushes would keep me from getting over. It didn't look like I'd be getting in... or so I thought until I saw my opportunity. In one spot the bushes weren't so high - it looked like it had been trimmed down by the owner or the city so it wouldn't grow to disrupt the power line that rose above it. The shrubs at this spot were only as high as the fence. I still couldn't see in, but I could climb it and jump over. Then I could get into the house and let Kolchak in. Easy, right?

  It seemed like a great plan to me, so I didn't even hesitate to grab the fence. I had climbed enough fences in my life that it wasn't a problem. Once I got higher up, I realized I hadn't noticed some subtle barbed wire at the top. Not a major problem, but I hadn't planned for it and didn't have anything ready to drape over it. So to avoid getting cut up or climbing back down, I just pulled myself up as far as I could, and then sort of dove over the top. It was awkward, a little reckless, and probably looked terrible, but it worked, dropping me down on the grass.

  The backyard was dark. No lights were on and the bushes and shrubs blocked much of the street light. I strained my eyes to see two dark black shapes on the ground. They weren't yard furniture and I didn't know what they were, but they were roughly man-sized and close to the ground. I realized that I was at too much of a disadvantage and I might just be looking at the vamp corpses we had just come to find. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my flashlight.

  With a click, the backyard was much more accessible. I could see the two shapes were large bodies, but not human. There was fur. And blood? I think I was seeing two very large, dead dogs. In a second, a very loud growl alerted me to the fact that there had been more than two dogs. I spun quickly, my flashlight shining very close to the face of the ugliest dog I had ever seen.

  Its massive head was pointed toward me, its impenetrably black eyes containing animalistic murder. Its jaw was where things suddenly became much more familiar. Its mouth couldn't close because it was full of many sharp teeth at many different angles. Drool stretched from those teeth to the ground. This was one of those Mean Ass Fucking Dogs, one of Paulie's hellhounds.

  I may have let out a girlie yelp. I may have actually shouted for help. I did for sure turn and run for the place on the fence I had entered from. Hell, any place on the fence would be good if it got me high enough to get away from the dog.

  Of course I didn't get away. It's not surprising to anyone that a gigantic hound with surprise and four massive legs would run me down. It pounced upon me as I flung myself at the fence and thrashed. It brought me down to the grass hard. Its jaws lunged in for a bite, and I thought I had just been gored as it pulled back its head, pulling at me. But I didn't feel any pain or a wound. That's when I realized that when it bit at me, it got a mouthful of my jacket, including the lead pipe I had hidden there. It was probably the pipe that saved me from getting eaten - it bit down on that and then pulled back to shake its head to try to get rid of the object that offended it.

  I knew that distraction would last only a moment as I wriggled away, trying to get to the fence. Then thunder struck three times, the noise overpowering the growling. And then there was silence, the sounds of the dog now gone. I still wriggled toward the fence, waiting for the dog to resume its attack at any second. But it did not.

  I finally turned over and discovered what I should have already known - I hadn't heard thunder. Kolchak stood in the backyard, holding a still-smoking revolver.

  "Holy shit, man!" I said. "I didn't know you carried a gun!"

  "Saturday Night Special," he said. "I carry one, but rarely use it. It's not the most effective against our enemies and I prefer to use the right tool for a job."

  "It sure saved the shit out of me here," I said, still feeling the adrenaline. "Fucking hellhounds."

  "Hellhounds?"

  "These bastards," I said, kicking the corpse at my feet. It was now obvious that there had already been two dead hellhounds. How had the third escaped death?

  "Ah, I've known them as barghests," said Kolchak. "Sometimes used as guards by OTV. Nasty creatures. I've even heard of them actually biting off the hand that feeds them. They're better off dead."

  I nodded, still trying to calm down. "Why are two dead and not the third?"

  Kolchak swept his own flashlight. In the corner there was a dead body. It wasn't a desiccated corpse. It was the body of a revenant that had its head chewed off. There was a Family tattoo on his hand.

  "When they hit this place, they took the back route like you," suggested Kolchak. "He got two dogs but the third made him lunch. His friends got inside to do their job. I guess the last dog kept his friends from reclaiming his body."

  "I'd say it's an ugly way to go, but I'm glad they got him," I said.

  "Can't say I disagree," said Kolchak.

  I looked toward the house, where Kolchak had come from. "I guess the lock was easier than I thought." I was trying to calm down from adrenaline, so my small talk made me out of breath.

  Kolchak smiled. "I ended up just forcing it. I found the dead occupants and then heard your struggle. We're done here. We should get out of the area quick."

  "Why?" I said.

  "Police," said Kolchak.

  "In the Husks?" I said incredulously.

  "Gunshots will still bring them," said Kolchak. "And I did accidentally trip an alarm when I forced the door."

  We parked the car a little ways away from the house in an alley between two abandoned stores on the same block as a non-abandoned all-night deli and a Laundromat. We didn't know if neighbors saw us, but for now we didn't want the car to be seen on the streets anywhere near the house. We'd wait for a while, let the cops come and go, and then we'd be on our merry way. The cops were definitely coming, I could hear their far off sirens as I stood next to the Crown Vic, trying to let the adrenaline from the
barghest attack drain out of me. Ace rubbed his head against my hand when I slowed down my frenetic movements enough, and I admit it was comforting. I had already smoked two cigarettes and was keeping myself from smoking a third, especially since they weren't helping me calm down at all. I had ditched my ripped jacket and now had my lead pipe down the waistband of my pants, like a poorly carried pistol.

  "It's okay," said Kolchak with a laugh. "We're out of danger now. You can relax."

  "I know that," I said. "But my body doesn't seem to."

  "Deep breaths," said Kolchak. "Just relax. You did good. I wanted to say it's been nice to have the company these past few nights."

  "Yeah?" I said, pleased but somehow expecting a shoe to drop.

  "Yeah," he said. "You're a good kid. I know you said you're going through some weird stuff with everyone else in your life, but if it's worth anything, I think you're doing alright."

  He paused, as if evaluating the silence. I didn't have anything to say to that.

  "Okay, I think I've made things weird." He drained his cup of coffee and then wiggled the cup in disappointment. "Looks like I'm out. I trust you can be left alone with the car for now. I won't come back and find it destroyed, right?"

  "Ha ha," I said sarcastically.

  "Just don't take it on the street," he said. "And if the police come by, get in the driver's seat and be ready to start up. Key's in the ignition. If they shine a light down the alley, you need to be ready to gun it and get it out of here."

  "And go on a high speed chase with the cops?"

  "Better than them pulling you in over a weapons charge and finding all the things in the car," he said.

  "Good point." What I already knew of Kolchak meant he had some technically illegal stuff. He probably had more hidden inside the Crown Vic.

  "I'll only be a few minutes, don't worry."

  Kolchak headed out on foot while I paced in the alley. At this point, the panic had left me and I just needed to work off the excess energy, which I did by pacing. Ace watched me, unimpressed by it all. He was clearly made of sterner stuff than I. Finally he walked over to me and positioned himself in front of me. I had to stop pacing because of this and he put his head under my hand. Besides being a gratuitous petting opportunity for him, his contact calmed me down. I had forgotten how comforting animals can be to you while stressed. I stood and petted him for a minute, and my panic slowed.

  "Thanks, Ace," I said. "You know what, I think you deserve a treat."

  Ace was very enthusiastic about that idea. I just needed to find where Kolchak kept the treats. He seemed to just magically produce them from nowhere when they were needed. He might have them in his pocket, but he had to have a main stash somewhere. I checked the front seat, but no luck. The backseat was a mess of file folders, empty bottles, and other debris. I didn't find any treats, but didn't expect them to be kept right where Ace hung out.

  Were they in the trunk? From the driver's seat I popped the trunk and went around back. A Crown Vic has a massive trunk that you could conceivably put a body in. Kolchak had no bodies, but the trunk was full. Uncomfortably full. It was a huge pile of file folders, undoubtedly containing Kolchak's research, some bags of gear, extra wooden stakes, and more empty plastic bottles. I rolled my eyes at the clutter, but if he was eschewing digital, then this sort of filing system made some sense. I pulled some file folders out, looking for either doggie treats or a file that was interesting. But they were all unlabeled, making me wonder just how he knew where to find anything. There was one folder off to the side, and I grabbed that, so I wouldn't upset the precarious stacking system.

  Why did I do that? I still don't know why. It wasn't lack of trust. It wasn't paranoia. I was just drawn to that, compelled as if by some force. Was it some impulse toward nosiness, a compulsive need to look through his files? Or was it some fated event to make everything come crashing down?

  This file folder had a bunch of dossiers on people. They were labeled with the subjects' names. My idle thumbing became much more purposeful as my breath caught and my fingers went numb. I knew these names. Why did Kolchak know these names? Paul Gleeson. Benthem Heath. Carly Stewart. Mikkel Nowak. Szandor Nowak.

  Barely pausing to think, I practically ripped open the file that bore my name. It was full of information... information about me. There were photos, and few of them were recent... before I had met Kolchak at the Night Market. The file had a list of the last few places I'd lived and had a mention of the Helping Hands call center I had worked at. On a hastily scribbled note in the back, there was even a mention of one of my Christmas presents I received when I was younger.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Every hair on my body was now standing at end. I felt a peculiar sense of vertigo as everything I thought I knew about Kolchak and my ride along was questioned. What was I actually doing? Why was I with him? Had he arranged for me to be here?

  It was at this moment that Kolchak came around the corner of the alley. "Hey, they actually had some of your fancy coffee, so I got you some that -" His words died on his lips. He was too perceptive a man to not know what I had in my hands.

  "What the fuck is this?" I practically yelled.

  "Okay, I know this looks bad -"

  "Looks bad? Looks bad? Of course it looks bad, because it's fucking terrible! What the fuck am I to you? Some fucking game? Some fucking dupe?"

  "I know that I haven't been completely honest with you -"

  "Ha, fucking ha, are you serious? Not completely honest? No fucking shit, man! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

  Ace had started growling. At the time I thought it was just him picking up on the energy of the argument, like a kid watching his parents fight.

  "Szandor, I know I should have told you this earlier -"

  "That you have a fucking dossier on me? Of really specific fucking information? Looks at this - 'received mp3 player for Christmas' - why the fuck did you need to know what I got for Christmas? I wasn't even fucking hunting then!"

  "Szandor, please, let me -"

  "Let you, what, play this same fucking game that you've been playing? This fucking whatever you want to call it - hey, fucking listen to me!"

  Ace had continued to growl, and Kolchak had finally picked up on it. He had pulled his focus from me and my yelling and was now scanning the darkness of the alley. At the time, I just saw him ignoring my righteous indignation, and so I was pissed. I yelled a few more curses at him, but I was noticing his strange reaction.

  "Oh no," he said, his face suddenly very serious. This was about the time I shut up and realized things were amiss.

  Something dropped from one of the nearby rooftops. It bounced on the top of the car as Kolchak lunged forward to push me toward Ace and away from the car. That was the second when I noticed that the object that had fallen looked a lot like the movie version of a grenade.

  The alleyway roared with noise, light, and smoke as the grenade exploded on top of the car. My stumble toward Ace turned into me being thrown deeper into the alley by the explosion behind me. I hit the ground hard and my head rattled, but I had escaped the blast radius. I turned my head behind me and saw the mouth of the alley full of smoke and dust, keeping me from seeing the car or Kolchak. I did see the men that leapt down from the roof to stand between me and the smoke. I knew they were the Family before I saw the symbol tattooed on them, I could see it by the familiar hardcore punk fashion. In another time, I'd be asking them where the show was, but now I knew that they were revenants and could snuff out my life easily.

  "What have we here?" said one of them with amusement, glowering at me while I frantically got to my feet.

  There were at least four of them, possibly more in or beyond the smoke. There was no way I was going to win this fight. One would have been a challenge, a fight I'd probably lose. Four? No way. My only choice was to run. If Kolchak had survived the grenade, there was no way for me to help him. If he hadn't, well, I'd probably get killed trying to learn that. I had one option a
nd I took it. I turned and my feet hit the pavement as I started running. I was conscious of Ace running too, but I lost track of him.

  "Think you can get away?" shouted one after me.

  "Run, rabbit, run!" shouted another with amusement. Despite the rattle in my head, the pulse in my ears, and the rasp of my lungs, I heard their footsteps coming after me.

  My head was still a little dizzy from the concussive force of the grenade. I had just recently adrenaline crashed, so what I was getting in my veins were just fumes when I needed panic energy. I had enough conscious thought to know I couldn't outrun the revenants in a straight sprint. I needed to vary the terrain and throw them off. This couldn't be about muscle or pure athletics, because I would definitely lose.

  I didn't make it far down the alley before I saw my opportunity. A door into the building to my right. Not even taking a moment to check if it was locked, barred, or otherwise, I used the force of my momentum to slam into it. It burst open, and I stumbled into an empty store. The door slammed back closed behind me, unlocked and broken now. The store's stock had been cleared away long ago, along with most of the shelves. There was only scattered debris, which I did my best to avoid as I ran the length of the store, running for another door I saw on the other side. I heard the revenants come through the door behind me, their footsteps pounding the dusty floor faster than mine. I burst through the second door, hitting the emergency exit lever to make the job easier.

  I found myself in another alley between buildings. I could have rammed myself through the door to the building in front of me, but I instead decided to turn and run toward the street. I could still hear sirens and I thought that maybe the police could help. They had to be heading this way after hearing the grenade. Not even the revenants would risk revealing themselves by attacking cops, right?

  I ran for the mouth of the alley. Behind me, the revenants followed. There was some comfort as the street opened up as I made it to the sidewalk. I decided that I didn't have time to stop and get my bearings. I launched myself straight into the street. I was greeted by the honk of horns and the screech of tires. A blue sedan barely swerved around me, but hit a beatup pickup truck. I heard their crash but had no time to stop running. As I made it to the other side of the street, I spared a glance behind me to see the revenants undeterred by the accident, two of them leaping over the hoods of the crashed vehicles.