Monster Hunter Alpha-ARC

by Larry Correia

  He watched as the first werewolf fell through his Zeiss scope. Headshot, asshole. Though he was right-handed, and the bolt-action was set up for right-hand use, Earl shot left-handed when he was prone and using a bipod. That way he didn’t have to break his firing grip or cheek weld against the stock as his right hand quickly lifted the bolt, yanked it back, forward, and back down. It was much faster that way. A spent .300 Winchester magnum brass case was ejected and a fresh round fed smoothly into the chamber. Next.

  He picked up the second sentry. The werewolf was beginning to move, having just smelled the spilled blood of his pack-mate. The Zeiss was pre-zeroed for this load, and Earl settled the 300 yard stadia line on the werewolf’s chest. The target was moving, so might as well aim for the biggest part. There was no wind to compensate for. Earl exhaled as he tracked his target.

  The trigger broke clean. The heavy G.A. Precision bolt-action rifle barely rocked on its bipod. Earl reacquired his target through the scope before the impact. He watched the werewolf shudder as 168 grains of lead and silver pierced his torso. The werewolf stumbled but kept running. Tough guy, huh? Earl worked the bolt.

  Julie was the team sharpshooter, since the girl just had a remarkable natural talent for putting bullets into very small things, very far away, very quickly, but Earl had been the one who had originally taught her how to shoot, and he was no slouch himself. Gotcha. The werewolf was running directly away now. The reticle swayed across the target’s back.

  He exhaled again as his left finger tightened on the trigger. Earl always shot on the respiratory pause.

  CRACK.

  This time the bullet hit the werewolf square between the shoulder blades. He spilled forward in a tumble of snow and blood.

  Earl looked up from his scope. The mine facility had seemingly come alive with movement. Just like kicking an anthill. He smiled, because there was nothing more rewarding than a target-rich environment. There was a flash of movement from below as Nikolai and Heather sprinted through the trees. “What are you waiting for?” Earl shouted at the others. “Give ’em hell!”

  * * *

  This is more like it.

  Nikolai could sense the Tvar’s pleasure. To the Tvar, it didn’t matter who they were hunting, just as long as they were on the hunt. The beast’s emotions always seemed to bleed across the lines into his own emotions when it was excited, making it hard to tell who was feeling what. So Nikolai also thrilled to the drama of the hunt. It was intoxicating.

  Still in human form, he sped between the trees. The deep snow was nothing to him. Gravity was on his side. Leaping, he moved with incredible speed toward his objective. Faster and faster, he dodged around trees, under branches, and launched himself over logs. Somehow the young female was keeping up. She should have wrapped herself around a tree by now. Even the Tvar was impressed by her performance.

  She does not move like a pup.

  And she knocked the sense out of us when you threatened her earlier, Nikolai reminded both parts of himself. She was not to be underestimated again. One last jump, branches tearing at his arms, and they were in the open, over the road leading to the front gate. An enemy was caught, surprised and in human form, in the clearing.

  But can she do this?

  Still airborne, Nikolai aimed his carbine. The Val spat and hissed as the suppressor absorbed the muzzle blast. The burst stitched across the enemy werewolf’s abdomen and chest, sending him reeling back. Nikolai landed, sliding through the snow, and struck the inferior creature aside with the butt of his weapon. Two more bullets splattered its head into bits before it could even begin to arise.

  His lips pulled back in a grin of semi-elongated canines, and a gush of steam poured out. Nikolai was in his element.

  Down.

  Tvar sensed danger first. There was another enemy closing. Nikolai dove aside as a bullet passed through the air above. He rolled, and came up ready to fire. The enemy was a black shape coming through the trees. There was a flash of gray and he was gone.

  Nikolai blinked. The female had hit the enemy so hard and fast it was as if he had just vaporized. They landed some distance away, a tangle of flailing limbs. Kerkonen got up, grabbed the enemy by the neck, and hurled him into an ancient tree. The wood cracked with a noise audible across the entire clearing. Limbs broken, the werewolf slid down the trunk. Kerkonen approached her fallen antagonist as she freed the shotgun slung over her back. She shouldered the weapon and shot him, once, twice, three times. Satisfied that he was dead, she turned toward Nikolai and gave him a very American thumbs-up signal.

  That girl is not normal.

  “No. She’s certainly not.”

  Sexy, though. I’d mate that.

  For all its flaws, the Tvar was a remarkably straightforward thing. “Mission first.” Nikolai ran for the gate.

  The ground underfoot rumbled. Earthquake. Nikolai lost his balance and fell as the earth suddenly ruptured. Snow flew into the air between the metal posts of the main gate. A square block of rusting metal was thrust into the sky. Three spikes extended from the end. The block crashed down, scrambling for purchase as ungainly limbs stretched behind it. A giant creature was leveraging itself out of the ground.

  Burrower!

  Despite never having seen one before, Nikolai recognized the creature from his training. They were minions of the Old Ones. According to the KGB analysts, despite their fearsome appearance, they were not supposed to be that tough. He lowered the VAL and fired as he charged. The 9x39 rounds sparked off the monster’s armor or tore hunks of stinking green meat from its hide. He would wrench its featureless head from its body. At the edge of the hole, Nikolai leapt for the monster’s neck.

  One metal claw swatted him across the clearing. The air erupted from Nikolai’s lungs as he tumbled through the branches. He hit the trunk of a tree and fell, crashing, face first into the snow.

  It appears the briefings were mistaken.

  * * *

  “What the hell is that?”

  Earl finished shooting the leg out from another werewolf before he looked up to see what Aino was shouting about. A bubble had formed in the road at the gate. The bulge split, and a monster came crawling out. It was one of the Old Ones’ things from the supermarket. Nikolai ran at the monster and got smacked across the road.

  “That’s the thing that ate Jo,” Jason said.

  Stark aimed his .308 SCAR at the monster and started popping off rounds. Jason and Aino followed suit. It was a noble effort, but Earl knew how tough these things were. Small-arms fire wasn’t going to be enough. “The Gustav! Bring me the big one!” Earl popped up from behind his rifle. “Hurry.”

  Jason lumbered over with the Carl Gustav Recoilless. Earl took the tube from him, flipped the latch, and hinged open the breach. It was far more effective to run these in two-man teams, one gunner, one loader, but there hadn’t been time to train anybody. “And the case. Hurry.”

  He hadn’t brought much on the trip. Each round of 84mm ammunition took up a lot of space. Jason hauled the Cordura case over and flipped it open. Earl picked a High-Explosive-Anti-Tank, slid it in, and locked the breach behind it. He took a knee and threw the Gustav over his shoulder. “Get back!” he warned. True to its name, the recoil wasn’t bad, but the blast was a real bitch. Military regulation limited the number of rounds a soldier could shoot through one of these things daily because they were worried about the damage it could do to your internal organs.

  He found the creature in the scope. It was fully out of the hole and striding toward Heather. He just hoped the girl had the sense to get out of the way. Its curious, eyeless head was bobbing back and forth as folds of empty skin spilled and bounced from every unarmored joint. Earl braced himself and fired. The concussion shook the entire ridge.

  His aim was true. The round struck the Old Ones’ minion in the midsection. It disappeared in a explosive flash. The HEAT round was meant for taking out armored vehicles. Nothing living, short of maybe a dragon, was going to survive that. />
  Earl watched through the 3X magnification of the Gustav’s scope. It was raining meat in the clearing. Come on, Heather. Where are you? As the smoke and dust settled, he could see that the monster’s torso had been ripped open right through its armor and green liquefied guts had been sprayed everywhere. It was toast, but there was no sign of Heather.…There. Heather was alive and picking herself up out of the snow.

  A bullet whizzed past his head. The werewolves were returning fire from the two-story building at the entrance. It would be difficult for them to aim directly into the sun, but throw enough bullets and they were bound to hit somebody. “I’m done screwing around.” Earl tilted the Gustav so he could pop the breach, but there was a tug that stopped him.

  “Got you,” Stark said as he pulled out the empty shell. The weapon rang like a bell.

  So Stark wasn’t totally useless. He knew how to act as a loader. “Bunker buster,” Earl ordered without looking.

  “H-E-D-P,” Stark responded as he shoved the shell in and locked the breach behind. He slapped Earl on the shoulder to indicate they were ready, then retreated to keep from getting his eardrums busted. “Go!”

  Earl centered the crosshair on the office building. Though solid looking, it appeared to made of wood and brick. The bunker-buster round had been designed to demolish reinforced concrete, so even though there wasn’t any silver involved, this wasn’t going to be pretty for the werewolves inside. Earl fired.

  The 84mm round hit the front wall, penetrated, and detonated inside a fraction of a second later. Half the building was instantly turned into splinters and brick dust. Ten seconds later the rest of the structure collapsed with an epic groan.

  “Best damn thing to ever come out of Sweden not involving bikinis!” Earl shouted.

  As Stark ran up and popped the breach, Earl scanned the facility. Heather was picking Nikolai out of a tree. Injured werewolves were moving in the wreckage and in the equipment yard behind it. He only had a few rounds left for the Gustav, but one of those rounds had been specially loaded with six hundred and sixty-six silver ball-bearings, because in addition to being an mad genius, Milo also had a sense of humor. “Gimme the Demonsterfier.”

  Stark yanked the spent shell out. Pong. “De-monster…what?”

  “The red one,” Earl growled.

  * * *

  “Are you okay?” Heather asked Nikolai.

  “Fine,” he said, brushing her hands away. “No need to be concerned.”

  There was a bone sticking out of his arm, the jagged edge had ripped through his coat. “But—”

  Nikolai grabbed it with his good hand and wrenched it back into place. It made a sick crack. “See? Insignificant,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Heather was still not used to the unnatural toughness aspects of her condition. “The way’s clear. Harbinger blew up the—”

  Suddenly, Nikolai shoved her onto her back.

  He’s going to kill me. But then, before she could react, she heard the high-pitched whistle overhead. The shell air-burst in a black cloud over the mine. There was a sound like ten million angry bees and a horrendous rattle of impacts. Then the werewolves began to scream.

  “Hunters…always with a trick up their sleeves. Come. We’re clear.” Nikolai got to his feet and plucked his tubular rifle out of the snow. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Just catching my breath,” Heather said.

  “You don’t need to catch your breath anymore. That’s your human psychology making you inefficient. Come.” Nikolai extended a hand to help her up. Heather hesitated. Nikolai seemed relatively sane at the moment, so she took the offered hand. He pulled her upright. “Thinking like you’re still human will get you killed.”

  “I’ll be human again.”

  Nikolai laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll believe that when I see it. Why would you want to, anyway?”

  “It’s a curse.” This sanctimonious prick was really ticking her off. “Wouldn’t you give it up if you could?”

  “Of course…not…” Nikolai stopped, bewildered, then shook his head. “Enough. We’re wasting time.” He ran toward the screaming.

  Since her best bet at salvation meant following the murderous lunatic, Heather followed, the ice crunching between her bare toes.

  * * *

  The facility was clear, seemingly free of targets. The remaining werewolves had taken cover indoors. There was no sign of the Alpha or the other burrowing monster. There was movement as Heather and Nikolai cleared the gates. They had to keep up the pressure.

  “Move out!” Earl shouted. There was one HEAT round left for the Gustav. “Jason, sling this.” The Briarwood Hunter took the tube and threw it over his shoulder. In Jason’s other hand was one of the SCAR rifles they’d scrounged from Stark’s Suburban. Visible heat waves were rising from its barrel. Stark had the other SCAR, and Aino was still using his old lever-action .30-30. “Aino, take my bolt gun. You need something that shoots silver bullets.” Earl tossed the old miner his last magazine.

  “Bulky thing,” Aino grunted when he picked up the rifle.

  “You want to kill them, or just piss them off?” Earl asked rhetorically as he retrieved his Thompson in one hand and Aksel’s Mosin in the other. “Everyone on me.” He ordered and he stepped over the edge. The slope was pretty steep, and it would have made a really good sledding hill. It was a fast slide-roll-run to the base. He managed to make it all the way to the bottom mostly upright. He took up a defensive position and waited for the others to catch up.

  There was shooting coming from the mine. Heather was in danger. He almost set off immediately, but stopped himself. Get your head right. These men needed him. Heather could take care of herself. She was, after all, physically tougher than he was now. His team was going to give him a never-ending ration of shit about this. The first time he takes a vacation day in forever, a town gets slaughtered, some terrible artifact gets unearthed, he gets cured of lycanthropy, and finds a lady friend who unfortunately happens to be a really odd werewolf.…It was sad that taking a day off could be more interesting than an average day of monster hunting.

  One by one the others slid in behind him. Nobody seemed to have broken anything. Earl set off at the fastest pace he could, which, considering the terrain and everyone’s ragged condition, wasn’t saying much. Stark was walking with a limp, having twisted his leg earlier. Aino was old. Jason had lost a lot of blood earlier. They weren’t going to win any awards for being pretty.

  They’d made it halfway when something began to beep.

  Stark stopped and began to claw wildly at a pouch on his armor. “My phone!”

  Earl signaled a halt. Aino looked like he needed it. He was in good shape for his age, but that age was sufficient to collect Social Security, and his face was red from the exertion. Jason seemed to be hanging in there, though he was walking a little funny, like his side was hurting.

  The phone came out. “Headquarters!” Stark said, out of breath. “Yes! This is Stark…Wait. I can barely hear you. We’ve got an emergency. Code Delta-Delta-Five-Niner-Five. You’re breaking up.”

  Earl glanced around the woods. Splitting up was a risk, but they didn’t have time to stop, and Copper Lake needed reinforcements. “Stark! Just men. No carpet bombing. You hear me?” The agent quickly nodded and held up his hand for silence. “Aino, stay with Stark.” The old man nodded thankfully, then leaned the G.A. Precision rifle on a tree so he could put his hands on his knees and hang his head to try to catch his breath.

  “Jason, you’re on me.” With the slowest two left behind, Earl picked up the pace. Sweat was rolling down the inside of his armor but freezing solid on his face.

  They made it another hundred yards before Jason spoke up. The fence was visible just ahead. “Mr. Harbinger?”

  “Just Earl. What?”

  He seemed embarrassed. “If I don’t make it, I’ve got a family to support. See…I’ve done some stupid things in my life. It’s hard to make an honest living once you’ve got
a record. I used to fight, you know, for money, until this one kid nearly killed me, broke my skull and popped my eye. When Horst offered me this job…Well, I don’t care about being a hero or nothing like that. I’m doing this for my little girl. What I’m trying to say is, if there’s any PUFF…”

  “You’ve got no time for doubts. Just know that if anything happens, your family will be covered. Just like I’d do for any of my Hunters.”

  Jason summoned up his courage. “Give your word.”

  That stopped him. Earl Harbinger wasn’t used to anyone questioning his integrity. “All right. I swear to you that if you don’t make it, I’ll make sure your family is taken care of forever. You have any idea how many orphans I’ve sent to college? How many houses I’ve bought? I’ve lost hundreds of men, but people still keep signing up, so what do you think I’m going to do?”

  Jason looked down sheepishly. “Sorry…Just that the last bunch I worked for…”

  Earl had to reach up to clap him on the shoulder. “Was a bunch of shady cut-rate bastards. I’m MHI. So pull your head out of your ass and get it back in the game. Focus, and you won’t have to find out how good the death benefits are.”

  Chapter 32

  The Alpha threw open the doors of Number Six and walked into the sunlight. His senses were overloaded. The air tasted of dust and blood. The pack was being slaughtered. He could feel their pain as the silver seared their wounds. A nearby building was burning. Orange sparks were rising through the black smoke as the beams crackled and broke. And behind all that chaos was the challenge. The amulet was eager. It had been waiting for this moment for thousands of years.

  He spread his arms wide. “Here I am! Face me!”

  There was a disturbance in the smoke, a whirl of air, imperceptible to any lesser being. The Alpha turned with just a hint of a smile on his face.

  Nikolai Petrov leapt through the fire, descending toward the Alpha.