Hannah could only look at Mildred with incredulity. If you had a horrific monster in the lake not too far from her home, would you name it Bubbles? It seemed a mighty innocuous name for something that kept eating folks.
“I wish to know what he really is.”
“Why’d ya think I’d know?”
Bubba reached into his coat and removed a tattered and yellowed piece of newsprint. “A few years back, Dr. Swan’s Magical Menagerie of Mystery got off the train and set up shop. It says here the freak show included such oddities as a snake man, a boy with two heads, and a bearded lady.”
“Paid good ’nuf.” Mildred spit on her own floor. “Didn’t like ’em pullin’ on me beard to see if’n it was real. Humans is stupid.”
Hannah had no idea what was going on. “What are you?”
“Smarter’n you, missy.”
“I figure the old Germans named your kind a dweorg or a twerg. Dwarf, I suppose we’d call it now. Not that I care what you are or why you’re aboveground, because according to this, the biggest draw of Dr. Swan’s show weren’t no bearded dwarf, but a baby sea monster, captured off distant Indonesia, and kept inside a big tank in a dark tent. It cost a whopping fifty cents to get inside to see it, but it was so impressive, folks still paid up.”
“That they did, hunter. Bubbles was a star.”
“I never told you I was a hunter.”
“Didn’t have to. Got the look ’bout ya. Some things never change.”
“I should have said most folks paid to get in. Some kids snuck under the back of the tent, except one got plucked up by a tentacle, plopped into the tank, and promptly eaten.”
“Little brat should’a heeded the warnin’ sign.”
“According to this article, the public devouring of a youngster, coupled with other strange goings on around the circus, including a few missing persons, caused the sheriff to run the good Dr. Swan and his troop out of town.”
“Ain’t nothing good ’bout that doctor. T’was an evil company, his. Swan’s a collector of dark an’ vile things. Some o’ the things in his show ain’t o’ this world, an’ he pays ’em in souls.”
Bubba nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll be sure to pay him a visit . . . After it ate that kid, they were going to destroy the sea monster, only someone smuggled it away first.”
“Bubbles meant no harm. He’s a good boy. Didn’t deserve no killin’. Loaded him on a wagon and we ran away. I put Bubbles in this lake. Sure, t’wernt salt water, but Bubbles’ kind is made from old magic, an’ tough. Minded our own business from then on, we did.”
“He’s been eating people!” Hannah exclaimed.
“Well . . .” It was hard to tell with the beard, but Mildred might have been a little ashamed. “I was keepin’ ’em fed. He knew to come when I called. Chickens first. But out o’ his little tank, he kep’ on growin’ bigger an’ bigger. Then I fed ’em goats. Thought I was keepin’ up, but he must’a got feelin’ peckish. But no need for killin’, hunter. I bought me a herd o’ cows. Plenty o’ cows to go ’round. He’ll be a good boy from now on, I promise.”
“Ma’am, I know you’re fond of him, but in my experience, once a creature gets a taste for human flesh, they’ll continue to murder. He’s a danger to every soul who comes near this lake. I can’t let that stand.”
“You’ll never catch him! He’s only a wee ’un, but he’s too clever for the likes of ye! Bubbles’ kind knows when to hide from hunters!”
“Yet you’ve got a way to call him to shore to feed.”
“Nay! I said too much!” Mildred was outraged. “This be his lake now! Folks get ate, that’s on them! Now get outta me house!”
“You want that I should shoot her?” Hannah whispered to her boss.
“Out! Out!”
After a bit of negotiation, we managed to convince Miss Mildred to give us the magic conch shell in order to preserve the future of the beautiful lake and its inhabitants. She was sad to let her old friend go, but she agreed that it was for the greater good.
Hannah hadn’t ended up shooting the bearded lady. Bubba Shackleford was far too gentlemanly for that sort of thing. So instead they’d gone back to their horses, found a good spot in the woods to conceal their location, and then waited for Mildred to leave her cabin in order to tend to her small herd of cattle.
“I don’t know about this, Mr. Shackleford,” Hannah whispered as they approached the cabin. “Thieving seems wrong.”
“We can’t let her pet monster’s rampage continue. That echoing call the locals think is the monster probably ain’t coming from the beast. It’s Mildred blowing a horn calling Bubbles to supper. I’m betting that fancy shell came from the traveling circus too. Probably how the doctor captured it from the sea to begin with.”
“Well, this still isn’t very dignified!”
Bubba began climbing through one of the windows. “Just keep on lookout. Getting back shot by an angry dwarf while committing burglary would be an ignominious way for a Professional Monster Killer to expire.”
Bubba made it through the window while Hannah kept watch. A moment later he came back with the mysterious conch shell. Then they ran for it.
The plan was fairly simple. Once by the shore, Mr. Shackleford would blow the horn, and we would wait in ambush. Hopefully, it would mistake our horses for a feast. Once we had a clear view of the creature, we would harpoon it snugly, and then drag it into the shallows with our Clydesdales. With the sturdy brown horses towing it to such an advantageous location, we could slay it easily without blindly firing and wasting precious ammunition.
Due to the preponderance of snow last season and the fresh runoff, the water level was high. So we picked an area of beach where it was shallow and level for about fifty feet, before dropping off into the abyss. Most of our company concealed ourselves in the trees and waited.
Bear Lake was very pretty this time of year. The waters were the same blue as the sky. Mountains rose majestically into the sky across the lake. I could easily see this being painted and hung up in a rich man’s home.
It was such a shame that the clear blue water was going to be red by the end of this.
The water was seeping through the fabric of her pants and down into her boots, making her feet wet. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but it wasn’t like there was any alternative. The only spot of cover on this damnable beach were the scrub trees and brush near a stream, and everything was damp and cold. The Professional Killers were waiting, weapons in hand, waiting for their prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Waiting was awful. Hannah believed waiting to be the worst part.
Bubba was actually standing in the open, holding onto a rope which was in turn tied around the neck of a sacrificial cow. He’d blown the horn—a weird plaintive wail presented dinner—a scrawny used-up milk cow they’d gotten for cheap—and gone to waiting like the rest of them.
Rustling leaves broke the silence, and a small figure burst out of the surrounding woods and headed directly toward Bubba. The silence was even more ruined by the screeching obscenities of the dwarf woman, who must have heard the echoing sound of her stolen conch shell and come running. Most of the company remained focused on the water, searching for any kind of movement. The bearded lady made her way down the shore and into the water with surprising speed.
“Now, what do you think you’re doing? Stealing a woman’s personal belongings wit’ intent to shed the blood o’ an innocent creature?” If Mildred wasn’t red in the face before, she certainly was now. In fact, she was turning slightly blue around her shirt collar.
“It would certainly seem as such.” Bubba tore his eyes off the lake to look at the dwarf lady. Under normal circumstances, he might have been polite and offered some monetary compensation, or at least an apology. Thing is, a man can only deal with so much before he lost his patience, and that threshold was crossed a long time ago. “It ain’t no innocent. You brought a damned sea monster here!”
“He’s just a baby!�
��
“That eats people!”
“Stupid useless people! Now gimme that back!” Mildred wrestled the conch shell out of the larger man’s hand, before clutching it close to her body. “How dare ye? I have half a mind to report ye for theft!”
Hannah noticed something slithering in the water and opened her mouth to call it out—just as the tentacle snapped out of the water and yanked Mildred under.
Their target was just a dark shape in the shallows. Sadly it became much easier to spot when it began chewing on poor dumb Mildred. The hunters reacted near instantaneously. Skirmish threw his harpoon, missing by inches. Mexican George was next, his aim a bit higher, and managed to nail it. The beast erupted from the water, shrieking, and started thrashing around.
It was the oddest critter she’d ever seen. Its body was a big fleshy globe, big around as a five-hundred-gallon water tank, but with a whole bunch of little “arms” that looked like hoses sticking out the side, each one wiggling like a headless snake; but sticking out of the body was one thick snake, only that really turned out to be a neck, complete with a head with big teeth and eyeballs and the works. Then—almost thankfully—it went back under and out of view.
Lesser men would’ve run, but this was all in a day’s work for Bubba Shackleford’s Professional Monster Killers.
Armed with her buffalo rifle, Hannah watched the splashing water carefully for an opening. If it slipped that harpoon, it would be gone in no time, so she had to be careful. Seeing a flash of grey flesh, she hoped for the best . . . and fired. Another shriek told her all she needed to know.
Pangle threw his harpoon. Though he wasn’t near as strong as Skirmish or George, he’d bragged about how he’d thrown the javelin in competitions at his fancy, back east college. This one lodged itself deep into the body of the monster.
“Pull!” Bubba ordered.
Hub still had his arm in a sling from the Stonecoat incident, so he was stuck driving the team. When he saw the second harpoon strike, he put the horses to work. The ropes snapped taut.
Bubbles was apparently not pleased with this and tried to pull back.
Meanwhile, Bubba’s captive Holstein had panicked and was making a break for it. He let it go, drew his pistols, and commenced firing. Shockingly enough, Bubbles was outpulling the team of horses, and they were some mighty big horses. “Don’t let it get away!”
The monster had already gone back deep enough, the gunmen no longer had a shot, so Hannah slung her rifle over her shoulder and grabbed hold of the rope to try and help. Which looking back and considering the mass of the animals involved, was a rather futile gesture.
Rope ran over her fingers, trying to slip out of her grasp. She nearly lost it, but managed to tighten her grip to hold on. The sharpshooter had to dig the heels of her boots into the sand just to stay upright. That didn’t last long, and she ended up getting yanked down clear into the cold water.
“Time is of the essence, killers,” Bubba said as he waded back onto shore, calmly reloading his guns. There was no sign of Mildred. He holstered, then grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her up as she gasped and sputtered. “It’s a matter of teamwork, Miss Stone. Stick to what you do best.”
Chastened, she reloaded her Sharps.
Hagberg was ready to light their dynamite, but they couldn’t risk an explosion freeing their harpoons yet. Their throwers, picked because they had the strongest arms, had retrieved their second harpoons, and hurled those as well. This time Pangle missed, but Mexican George and Skirmish struck true.
Now there were four ropes on the beast, and it began gradually losing the pull. Soon it would no longer be shielded by the water.
“It’s losing blood and sure to tire,” Bubba shouted. “As soon as it’s in view, fire the machineguns.”
All in all, it seemed to Hannah that things were going fairly well.
Until Bubbles gave up on trying to escape, and went on the offensive instead.
First, one tentacle rose, then a second. Both appendages slapped back down near the hunters, spraying water everywhere. It got in Hannah’s eyes. When she could see again, the monster was slither-dragging itself up the shore. It was apparent that Bubbles had decided that it wasn’t going to be bullied on its home turf. Purplish grey tentacles squirmed about behind a dark and pointy head, which culminated in two beady, black eyes and rows of shiny white teeth.
“Fire upon that ugly bastard!” Bubba commanded.
Tentacles flailed all around the hunters, trying to bat them to the side. One of the fleshy tendrils managed to hit Hannah, crashing her into Skirmish, and sending both of them into the water. She was getting mighty tired of winding up in this damnable cold lake. This time, she managed to keep her head above the water. Until a tentacle wrapped around her ankle—which hurt something fierce—and began dragging her lakeward.
Skirmish began hacking at the tentacle with his knife. She drew both her Colts and went to shooting. The majority of her bullets hit meat, and the tentacle released.
That was when Sid began to chuckle manically.
Now, Hannah might not have been part of the company for very long, but she had come to understand a few key things about each of the other members. Little things, like Pangle was an avid reader, or that Mexican George was very good with horses, or that when Sid Hagberg started giggling, you needed to get out of the immediate vicinity, because that man had a love of dynamite something fierce. Skirmish was even more aware of this and scrambled to his feet, yanking Hannah with him. The two splashed toward safety.
A large explosion rang throughout the air. It was a good blast, but a bad throw, and detonated a bit too far to the monster’s side. It downright rattled Hannah’s calm. Bubbles gave an almost mocking roar at the failed attempt to blow it up.
“Next time a warning would be appreciated!” Skirmish bellowed.
“I did!” Sid was indignant as he lit another stick of dynamite to toss at the creature. “Ain’t my fault y’all were splashing around not paying attention!”
While that attempt to blow it up had failed, it did give Hannah some time to recover and get back to shooting. Skirmish, however, had lost his gun in the watery tussle, so excused himself to run back to the wagon for another weapon.
The monster’s charge up the beach had taken the slack out of the ropes. Hub Bryan didn’t know what to do about that, but Bubba began shouting at him. “Get to pulling! We’ll drag this sumbitch clear to Salt Lake City if we have to.”
Bubbles was now rolling about on the sand, but that didn’t seem to make it much less deadly. It was riddled with bullet holes, but seemed so riled up it didn’t show any inclination toward giving up. One of their machineguns had jammed—again—but the other was still making a lot of racket and poking a whole lot of holes.
Skirmish came running back armed with a pickaxe. Hannah thought he was being foolish for grabbing a short-range melee weapon instead of a gun, where he would have to walk up to a creature that had a considerable range advantage, a few thousand pounds on him, and mouth snapping shut like a triple-layered bear trap.
A tentacle wrapped around Sid Hagberg, yanking him and his bag of dynamite into the air. He screamed in a very unmanly fashion as he was held over that terrible snapping maw. Sid lost hold of his dynamite bag and red sticks bounced off Bubble’s hideous face, but unfortunately none of those fuses were burning. This was an unfortunate development for Sid personally, but it also meant that their machinegun had to stop its indiscriminate spraying of bullets so as to not mulch their own man.
Which just demonstrated why skill would always be superior to technology. Hannah hurried and dropped another shell into her Buffalo gun. It was one hell of a shot, trying to hit the waving tentacle holding Sid, and not Sid, but it was a far bigger target than a dime tossed in the air, and she’d done that a dozen times a show.
CRACK!
The tentacle popped into fleshy bits, and Sid landed head-first in the shallows, which looked like it would hurt, but was a lot nic
er than landing in those teeth.
Despite these unfortunate developments, Skirmish looked gleeful. “I’ve got an idea!” The big man roared and charged the monster, pickaxe raised.
“Dear Lord, not this again,” Bubba muttered. “Cover Skirmish!”
Hannah rolled her eyes at the man’s stubbornness as she reloaded. She may have thought it was a stupid idea, but she knew she had to make sure to provide enough covering fire so that he could at least get close enough to do whatever madness he intended to do. Tentacles were still thrashing around, spraying cold water into the air. She cut a tentacle in half right before it would have smacked Skirmish in his noggin.
Somehow Skirmish made it through all that. The monster turned its pointy head his way, seemingly amazed at the depth of human stupidity. But whatever thoughts Hannah had about this being a poor idea slipped out of her mind when that pickaxe came down.
Skirmish hit it right in the nose so hard he drove the pick clean through the grey hide. The Irishman was strong as an ox. There was a crunch of bone and thick red blood squirted out. Bubbles’ head hit the sand. The axe only stopped its descent because the handle was pressing into the top of the creature’s snout.
Bubbles’ black eyes widened, but when it tried to bite Skirmish, nothing happened. It turned out he’d embedded the pickaxe clear into its lower jaw, sticking the two halves together.
The sharpshooter could only watch in awe. She hadn’t been expecting that to be effective at all, let alone end up being one of the most glorious moments she had ever witnessed. The sea monster seemed positively stunned.
She might have continued to marvel had Bubbles not suddenly gone all spastic, rolling about. Ropes snapped and screaming horses were pulled off their feet. One of its tentacles swept her legs out from under her and made her fall on the sand. If it wasn’t angry before, it certainly was now. Bubbles gave as much of a roar as it could with its snout pinned shut, and ended up batting Skirmish away with one of its many slithering appendages.
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