Devil Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 2)

by Rick Gualtieri

  That wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He was here to rescue Danni, not get into a gunfight he couldn’t win against foes he couldn’t even see. Hell, knowing his luck, he’d end up getting shot by the very people he was trying to find again.

  Arthur didn’t consider himself a coward. He wouldn’t have come to begin with if that had been the case. He was a realist, though, and the reality was he was almost certainly the least qualified person out in the woods this night.

  However, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been paying attention. He remembered everything Derek and Mitchell had told him and, while it didn’t even remotely make him a woodsman, it would hopefully keep him alive.

  Case in point, he stopped as his light illuminated something in front of him. He removed the headlamp and held it out to get a better look, spying a circle of leaves on the ground – a little too perfectly shaped. Arthur followed its outline and caught a glimpse of the wire that made up the snare trap.

  Close one.

  He stepped over it, being careful to watch for more.

  That was the ticket. Be smart, keep his eyes open, and try not to do anything stupid ... or anything else stupid.

  The gunfire petered off, which either meant one side had won or they were all reloading. It seemed to be coming from off to his right, so he turned left. Derek had been certain the Lesterfields had a home or compound out here somewhere. If there were traps scattered on the ground, then it seemed logical such a place couldn’t be too far off.

  He decided to pick a direction and search for it. At least that way he’d be doing his part.

  If he found it then ... well, he wasn’t sure. Losing his radio was possibly the stupidest thing he could have done. He still had his phone, but it wasn’t worth dick out here. If he found the compound, he’d need to figure out a way to mark it, then make his way back until such time as he got a signal. It seemed as good of a plan as he was likely to come up with.

  Arthur spotted a break in the trees up ahead. A moment later, he stepped into a clearing, thankful to have found a momentary reprieve from the oppressive closeness of the forest.

  He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice called out, “Noah, that you, boy?”

  Noah?

  A tall figure stepped from around a tree.

  Arthur flashed his light at the man and, for a moment, was relieved that it was apparently just some hiker or camper who was unlucky enough to ... but then he took note of the man’s face in the red glow of his lamp – the bent nose, the heavy brow, the strange shape of his jaw – and his heart leapt into his throat.

  He’d found one of the Lesterfields. Surprise shone in the other man’s eyes for a moment then, much to Arthur’s horror, he started to raise the pistol in his hand.

  “Don’t,” Arthur warned. He brought his own gun up to bear, dropping the headlamp in the process. That was okay. He could still see the man, and he needed both hands on his weapon to hold it steady.

  “There’s no need for that, son,” the man said in a smooth voice. “We’re just two strangers out here enjoying the woods on a fine evening.”

  “Y-you have Danni.”

  “I don’t know any Danni and, as you can see, I’m all alone.”

  Arthur did his best to keep his voice steady as he concentrated on what Mitchell had showed him about the shotgun. He steadied it against his shoulder and aimed at the man’s center mass. “Don’t bullshit me. You’re one of them, the Lesterfields. Dr. Jenner told me all about you.”

  The man’s eyes opened wide in both surprise and recognition. That alone cemented his guilt in Arthur’s book. “You’re going to take me to her, or I swear to God I’m going to...”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the man replied. He held his gun out in front of him and dropped it to the ground. “I think you’re confused, son, but I’m not the type to agitate a situation.”

  “I’m not your son,” Arthur said, the steel in his voice real this time. This bastard was definitely one of them. He’d recognized Dr. Jenner’s name. That meant he knew where the others were. “Come over here, nice and slow. I want you to pick up my light.”

  The man stepped forward slowly, his hands raised. “Happy to oblige.” He bent at the knees and lowered his hands toward the red light shining up from the grass.

  “Okay, now you’re going to...”

  A wheezing breath came from somewhere off to the left, heavy and wet as if someone with a bad cold had just stepped near.

  Arthur turned his head toward it at the wrong moment, just as Ezekiel Lesterfield charged at him.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Noah was sorely tempted to let the trespasser take Ezekiel. Would serve the cowardly fool right. The others were somewhere up ahead and here his uncle was, trying to stay safe while the rest of the family got their hands dirty.

  He wasn’t fit to lead the clan. His pa would never have done something like that.

  But Ezekiel was still family, and they’d already lost two that night. If the intruders up ahead were armed, it was possible they’d lose more. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when so much tragedy had befallen his kin in a single day. There hadn’t been anything like this since the days of his ancestors.

  It needed to end now.

  But that still didn’t mean he was going to do his uncle’s work for him.

  He might not be fit to lead, but maybe he’d prove he was fit to live.

  Noah closed in on the trespasser’s location – a mere boy from the look of things, perhaps not much older than Noah himself. None of that mattered to him. He didn’t care to make friends with outsiders. He’d learned that lesson at an early age, remembered the horror in his own mother’s eyes ... at least before she’d managed to displease Pa once too many times.

  He made his presence known, ready to act if this boy turned out to be more adept than his shaking form seemed to indicate.

  Much to his amazement, Ezekiel didn’t hesitate, throwing himself at the trespasser before he could recover and pull the trigger.

  Maybe he did deserve to live after all, but that was in his and God’s hands now.

  Noah took a deep breath, turned, and walked away as his uncle fought for his life.

  Sarah was still out there somewhere, and there was nothing more important than finding her.

  CHAPTER 42

  Danni was well aware that there were few things stupider than trying to sneak into a firefight. One stray shot was all it would take.

  But it was an opportunity to turn the tables. She well remembered the slaughter at Bonanza Creek. Hiding, waiting for help, none of it had quelled the bloodlust of the rabid beasts. It only ended once they stopped running and fought back.

  It was foolish to think it might be different now. She was outnumbered and against a persistent foe in woodlands they knew far better than she did. Her only advantage was that she was armed and the Lesterfields were currently distracted by some unknown third party.

  From the sound of things, the response from that other group was desperate and scattered. They wouldn’t last long. But the thunderous reports as the Lesterfields peppered their location with gunfire were the perfect cover for Danni to make her move.

  Keeping low, she spotted something through the trees ahead. At first she thought it was nothing more than a trick of her eyes, but then it raised a weapon and fired into the darkness beyond.

  Danni leaned the single-shot rifle against a tree then crept forward. It was definitely one of those monsters. Not even the cover of night could completely hide that fact.

  He never stood a chance. Between the shots he fired and those coming from elsewhere around them, he didn’t notice her sneak up from behind. She leveled her shotgun at his back and pulled the trigger – no words, no snarky comments, nothing but vengeful judgment against this family who so casually assumed they could do whatever they pleased to those they deemed weaker than themselves.

  Danni took no pleasure in ending this mockery of a man, but she felt no pity either. Her
mind kept going back to two things: Adam pushing her onto the bed, and Abigail’s shrunken form hiding away in her cell – no more than a shell of a person.

  She was on the move again before the body even hit the forest floor, cutting a hard right through some bushes and heading toward another member of this inhuman family, one too occupied with trying to kill his intended target to know that death was coming for him instead.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  They were fucked and Eric knew it. He and Sullivan were pinned as bullets flew everywhere. Worse, they were unable to get a clear bead on anything, doing little more than firing randomly into the brush.

  At least Sullivan had the good sense to douse their lights the moment they hit the dirt. Otherwise this would have been a very short, extremely lopsided gun battle. As it was, it seemed their only hope was to return fire blindly, so as to keep their assailants from charging in and gunning them down, but it was doubtful that would be a viable defense for long.

  It was hard to tell how many were out there, but they were definitely outnumbered if his ringing ears were any indication.

  Where the fuck are Hopper and Muellenberg?

  For that matter, where was Jenner? Much as he hated to admit it, the man had saved their asses once. Eric wasn’t so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a second assist.

  Probably still thinks I’m gonna arrest him. Well, screw that. At this point the governor could go fuck himself. Eric didn’t care about bringing Jenner in so much as he wished he’d turned back with Bob and Vasquez.

  Unfortunately, wishes weren’t horses, and waiting for a cavalry that most likely wasn’t coming was a surefire way to make sure they’d be nothing but corpses come morning.

  He reached over and tapped Sullivan on the arm, almost causing the other man to turn his gun on him in surprise. Eric wasn’t entirely unsympathetic to the concept of panic at that moment, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t bitch him out later, if there was a later. “We need to get out of here!”

  Sullivan nodded and started to get up, but Eric pulled him back down. “Crawl, you idiot!”

  Eric loaded a fresh magazine into his gun and began to fire while the other man took the lead, fanning his aim through the foliage and hoping to provide enough cover to buy them a few minutes. He then rolled onto his belly and followed Sullivan, praying their luck held.

  Sullivan disappeared through a small stand of bushes and Eric followed, moving as fast as his prone position would allow. He just had to hope Marcus didn’t panic and open fire directly into his face the moment he was through.

  Up ahead, Eric spotted Sullivan’s feet and legs working their way through the bushes. If they could reach something – a hollow, the trunk of a large tree, anything that could provide some cover – they’d have a fighting chance. They could more properly return fire and potentially cover each other’s retreat.

  Sullivan continued to crawl forward, putting a little more speed into his movements.

  There came a lull in the gunfire, their unseen foes probably reloading for another volley, and then Eric heard a strange noise from up ahead. There came the snap of a stick, then a strangled gasp, followed by the sound of leaves being disturbed. He watched as Sullivan’s feet were suddenly dragged forward and out of the bushes.

  What the fuck?!

  Ignoring the danger all around him, Eric pushed himself up enough to get a clear view and found that Sullivan had triggered another trap, this one a snare. Except, rather than his leg, it had closed around his neck.

  Sullivan’s feet hung about two feet off the ground while his hands desperately clawed at the rope strangling him.

  “Shit,” Eric hissed.

  He began to clamber to his feet when a light was shined in their direction, illuminating his struggling teammate. Their pursuers immediately opened fire again. Sullivan’s body jerked as multiple rounds hit home. His arms fell slack to his side even as he continued to be peppered with bullets.

  Marcus was dead and, Eric realized with even greater horror, their attackers now knew where he was.

  He was trapped like a rat against enemies he couldn’t possibly hope to overcome.

  Eric glanced back in the direction he’d come from. He could see lanterns shining through the brush, coming his way. Whoops of unearthly laughter could be heard between the shots that continued to hit the body of his teammate.

  All at once, Eric understood why the others hadn’t come to his aid. They were, in all likelihood, already dead.

  He was truly alone.

  But not for long.

  Someone, or something, pushed through the bushes to Eric’s right and held up its lantern to Sullivan’s body. In the dim illumination Eric could see the leering grin, the leathery skin, and the three-fingered hand which held its light source.

  Though he’d seen one of those things’ corpses, it had seemed almost surreal at the time, lifeless as it was. But here now, seeing this creature in the flesh prodding his teammate’s body with the butt of its rifle, the true horror of the situation finally dawned on Eric.

  He aimed and opened fire, emptying the magazine into the creature before it turned and noticed him.

  It went down as the last of the bullets left his gun, but he wasn’t fooled. More were coming. He could hear their cries of outrage and anger even as they opened fire again.

  They knew this forest better than he. Even if he managed to run, they’d find him. What then? He glanced once more at Sullivan, his mind awash with whatever horrors these things might have in store for him.

  Suddenly, everything else – his job, the governor, all of it – seemed so insignificant compared to escaping this nightmare in any way he could.

  Eric ejected the magazine and loaded a fresh one, his last.

  That was okay, though. He just needed to be careful with his count. Depending on how the next few minutes went, he would have to make certain he kept one bullet in reserve.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “We need to get back, report this.”

  “No,” Derek replied. “You need to shut up and do what you’re told. I’m not playing your boss’s game anymore. I’m here to find my people and I don’t give one flying shit about the governor, politics, or the goddamned law. Either suck it up, or you’re free to find your own way back.”

  “I’d think hard on that one,” Julia said, pushing past Kyle. “The woods are not a friendly place tonight, and they’re going to be even less friendly for anyone standing between me and my sister.”

  Kyle Muellenberg wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. This crap definitely wasn’t in his job description. A part of him wished he’d ignored his cell phone earlier when Bob had called him in, but he needed the overtime. The divorce had drained him financially, leaving him in no position to be choosy.

  Broke was better than dead, though. More and more, that latter choice seemed the most likely outcome of this ill-fated outing. He’d been half-certain he was going to be shot when he first came across Jenner’s crew, at least based on the bile Eric had been spewing. He’d instead been conscripted. On the upside, they appeared to be far more adept at being out here than Eric and the others were. The downside was they didn’t seem inclined to leave.

  The only question now was how to spin this once it was all over so that he didn’t get fired, but that was definitely a worry for later. For now, staying alive was at the top of his list. Finding his teammates was secondary, but that seemed to be more in the hands of fate than in...