With a sigh, I shifted the other direction. I kept making stupid mistakes, and it was starting to wear me down. “All right, all right. Let’s go, old man.”
“Oh ho, talking smack? Kid, I invented smack.” Before I could blink, I was upside down, hanging by my knees on Johnson forearms. The blood rushed to my head. He swung me back and forth a little, just to be a smartass. “Most officers would do worse than this for back-talk. Maybe make you clean the floor with a toothbrush. Lucky for you, I’m nice.”
“Understood, sir.” I squirmed, but he didn’t let go.
“You want down? Say please.”
Feeling like a bat at roost, I crossed my arms. “Fine, let’s see how long you can hold me, sir. I bet I can outlast you.”
Johnson laughed, a rumble that vibrated against the hard surfaces in the room. “You weigh, what, a hundred pounds? Archer, I can walk around all day carrying a hundred pounds.”
To prove it, he walked around the gym, me dangling with my ankles over his left shoulder, his arms around my waist, and my head banging into his knees. My gray t-shirt slid downward, showing off my belly-button. Here I was, fourteen years old, being carted around like a preschooler. Johnson knew how to make a point.
Properly embarrassed, I gave up. “Fine, you win. Please put me down, sir.”
He flipped me over and set me on my feet. Once my head quit whirling, I picked up my practice knife and assumed the correct stance, knees bent, knife hand down and back, left fist up.
“Ready.”
And then I was hanging upside down again.
“Archer, the monsters aren’t gonna give you a minute to collect your wits. Don’t tell me you’re ready, just be ready,” Johnson said. He put me down, his expression stern. “Fighting fair doesn’t count in a life or death situation. Stealth, cunning, and decisiveness–that’s what matters. Make sense?”
Life or death. Like I needed that little reminder. In a way, maybe I did, though. I couldn’t let myself fail. “It does, sir.”
“Good.”
He rushed me. I dodged and managed to duck Johnson’s arm as he swung out to catch my shoulder, but I didn’t get away fast enough. He grabbed my hip on the follow through, and I landed on my right side, ear first.
“Ow!” My tongue ached and I tasted blood. “Crap, sir, that hurt!”
Johnson pulled me to my feet. “Is that what you’re gonna say to those mutant grizzlies? ‘Crap, Bear, that hurt!’”
“No, sir. I’m gonna sneak up on it and stab it.” My voice sounded tougher than I felt, but I gritted my teeth and assumed the stance again.
Johnson lunged. I struck out with my right hand, aiming for his head. I missed and he flipped me onto the floor. On the plus side, I did land a punch on his shoulder before I went down.
“Better. You anticipated an attack, kept your guard up,” Johnson said. “We need to work on avoiding an attack more. You’re quick—it’s just a matter of practice and knowing what moves to make.”
I forced myself to sit up. “Don’t make me anticipate anything for the next five minutes, okay, sir?”
He laughed and sat next to me. “You got it.”
“Why’d you call my Montana monster a Bear?”
“You said they looked a little like a grizzly in the briefing. Why not Bear? Fits with Panda and Gator,” Johnson said. “Good enough code name, right?”
“I guess.” I paused for a minute, curious about something. “Did you ever fight any of the monsters, sir?”
Johnson cocked his head. The overhead lights gleamed against his bald scalp. “I was down in Peru with Major Tannen.”
“What was it like? My fight happened so fast, it’s like it wasn’t real.”
“Combat’s like that.”
When he didn’t add anything, I asked, “Well, were you scared? Of the Gators?”
“Those things are freaks of nature. They’d scare anyone. But I couldn’t just sit there and watch them kill people.” Johnson’s voice trailed off at the end. He shook himself. “Getting those knives was a godsend. Nothing else slowed those Gators down.”
“So what did the rest of you guys do while the knife-wielders hunted?” Parker and Ramirez had teams with them, but what good did extra men do if the knife was the only weapon that worked?
Johnson laughed. “Archer, who do you think you’re talking to? Think we sat around all day, knitting socks? The teams have all kinds of jobs—setting traps, tracking the monsters, evacuating civilians, intel, flushing the beasts out with ordnance. Just because I didn’t have a knife in my hand didn’t mean I wasn’t fighting, too.”
“Sorry. It’s just…well, I’m gonna be out there alone, since Uncle Mike’s leaving.”
My stomach flipped a little at the thought of being on my own. If I didn’t ace this training, what was I going to do? I couldn’t let Montana, or my uncle, down.
“The major won’t let that happen. You’ll have some help. Not sure who though…wish it could be me, but I’m being deployed. Almost everybody is.” He stood. “Okay, let’s practice avoiding an attacker.” The lieutenant pulled me up. “You know the drill…”
Johnson put me through my paces and I spent the evening in bed, nursing a whole lot of bruises. But it was so worth it; I had a feeling school hallways weren’t going to be a problem ever again.
* * *
On Wednesday, I jogged to the woods and the now familiar “Cougar” trail. I dodged Humvees and marching soldiers, enjoying the sounds of the busy base. Uncle Mike had concocted some story about me visiting Fort Carson for a school report, so no one batted an eye as I ran past the barracks and administrative buildings until I reached the cutoff to turn into the forest. Schmitz was already waiting for me, but that was evidenced only by the stopwatch and hat lying on the ground by a tree.
I sighed. “It’s my turn to hide, Master Sergeant.”
A pair of hands grabbed my arms and I jumped sky high. I turned to glare at Schmitz. “You have to stop doing that! It takes ten minutes to get my heart rate down.”
“I’m not stopping until you beat me,” he said. “Until then, I plan to scare the crap out of you each and every time you show up, Mr. Archer.” Smirking, Schmitz picked up his stopwatch and jammed his camo hat on his close-shaved head. “You’ve got five minutes. Go!”
I took off, muttering, “Today’s the day, dude.”
There wasn’t any wind, all the trees were still, so being stealthy was tougher than usual. Deciding to risk a fake-out, I made two false trails, first by leaving footprints in the dirt near a small gully filled with pine needles and leaves. Then I bent some grass and broke a few twigs near a huge aspen tree, hoping Schmitz would think I’d climbed up. Finally, I crept to my resting spot, walking in a random path over pine needles to hide my footprints. Crawling underneath a thick patch of brush, I hugged the earth, pressing down tight to the ground so I wouldn’t jiggle the scrubby bushes keeping me out of sight. All I could see or smell was moss, soil, and branches. My mind quieted, and I concentrated on the dirt under my body, pretending to be the forest floor.
“Time’s up!” Schmitz called. “My turn. Stop where you are.”
His feet crunched by once or twice, and he thrashed through the trees nearby, but he never found me. When Schmitz’s stopwatch beeped again, he shouted, “Time’s up.” He sounded excited. “You finally did it! Where the heck are you?”
I popped up six feet in front of him. “I hid close; thought you’d look further out. Guess I was right.”
“No kidding. Right under my nose the whole time.” Schmitz laughed. “I owe you twenty.”
That was the deal—whoever lost had to do twenty pushups. I’d done so many for my instructors that my shoulder muscles had knots in them. When Schmitz dropped and did his, I grinned the entire time. It was nice to see an adult pushing the ground for once.
After I finished playing hide and seek in the woods, I went to Colonel Black’s office for equipment training. He wasn’t there, but Kingston let me in. T
he little table where we’d had breakfast the first day was covered with cool, slick-looking gadgets.
“What’s all this?” I reached for a black rectangle that looked like an oversized iPhone.
“Stop.” A soldier stood in the doorway behind me. “Look with your eyes, not with your hands, Mr. Archer. Without proper instruction, you could break something. The equipment on that table is worth more than a hundred video game systems.”
“Really?” I rubbed my hands together. “Awesome.”
“No, not awesome. These are tools, not toys, Mr. Archer. Understand?” The man walked around and stood between me and the table. He was tall, pale, with perfectly buzzed hair. I could see my face reflected in the shine on his boots and his BDUs had creases ironed into them.
This guy would be a barrel of fun, no doubt. I wanted to play with the gadgets, though, so I decided to suck up. “Absolutely. I promise to treat everything here with respect.” After a glance at his rank and name patches, I added, “Specialist Davis, sir.”
“I’m not an officer—I work for a living. Just Davis or Specialist will suffice.” He pulled out a chair and pointed at it. “Have a seat; it’s quiz time. What’s the most important piece of equipment you’ll need on a hunt?”
I checked out the gadgets. “The GPS? That’s what the iPhone-looking thing is, right? That way I won’t get lost.”
Davis stared me down until I squirmed. “What about the knife, Mr. Archer?”
“Um, yeah,” I muttered, feeling my face get hot. “I thought you meant—”
“Put it on the table, with the rest of your gear,” Davis cut in, eyes piercing mine. When I laid the sheathed knife on the table, he asked, “What do you know about that blade?”
“It kills monsters.” I crossed my arms and glared. If he could be a butthead, so could I.
“It’s a supernatural blade, created by a medicine-man in Peru. It’s made of a metal alloy, including copper and gold, and infused with chemical compounds made from plant materials native to the Amazonian rainforest.” He rattled off the details like he was on Jeopardy or something.
Not to be outdone, I added, “And it picks its master.”
Davis nodded. “It does. Still seems fantastic if you ask me. Either way, there’s more to those knives than we understand.”
That got my attention. “Like what?”
“The medicine man told us about a war—”
“With evil spirits—I already heard all that.” I drummed my fingers on the table, wishing he would hurry up so I could get my hands on the night-vision goggles.
Davis scowled. “Don’t interrupt me.”
When I sighed and gave him a “please, go-on” look, he stood and paced, lecturing down his nose like my least favorite teacher. “He told us about a war against the forces of darkness, which had been foretold by a pre-Incan holy man. They believed a team of hunters, warriors marked by blood, would lead the battle to save humankind. The warriors would fight, even in the face of death, assisted by special knives.” He pointed at my knife. “The knives have some really interesting lore: ‘born of the ground, tied to the heavens, the blades of redemption will meet their brothers in unearthly combat to fight for men’s souls.’”
Goosebumps covered my arms. “Any idea what it means?”
“Well, everyone has a theory,” he said. “Personally, I think the blades are more powerful than we understand. So be careful with yours.”
“But, what—”
He cut my question off. “That’s all we know. Everything else is just speculation, and I like facts. Now, let’s talk about your night-vision goggles.” His expression clearly said “conversation over,” so I turned my attention to the toys.
Two hours of instruction later, he finally let me touch the GPS system, the satellite phone, and the night-vision goggles. To my disappointment, he didn’t let me take anything with me when we were done.
“Next time, I’ll teach you maintenance and how to pack each item for travel,” he said.
“You’re gonna teach me to pack?” I stared at him in disbelief. “Um, how hard can that be?”
“If you don’t want to break everything while crawling through the forest? Somewhat complicated. Oh-nine-hundred tomorrow. Don’t be late.” With that, the specialist picked up my electronics and left.
“That man needs a hobby,” I muttered, pushing my aching body out of the folding chair. “Or a girlfriend.”
I went back to quarters for a shower, a new pair of sweats and an afternoon nap so I’d be rested for night maneuvers. Searching for tracks in the dark took some doing; I needed to be sharp. Especially since Mike had developed a habit of jumping out from behind trees to startle me. Between him and Schmitz, I had no idea why I hadn’t died of a heart attack yet.
Mike wasn’t in quarters when I got back. Except for morning runs and night-stalking exercises, he had turned my training over to various instructors. I didn’t mind, though; when he wasn’t watching out for me, he was planning his op to Afghanistan with Colonel Black. He had things to do. So did I. Showered and stretched out on my bunk, I thought how cool it felt to be just like him. I was protecting the world from monsters.
* * *
Thursday night, I sat on my metal bunk, leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. I left the window open and listened to vehicles growl along the road even though it was past eight o’clock. The base never stopped moving. Kinda like me over the last week.
My cell phone rested in my lap. For the most part, I’d been too busy to miss home, but I was having a hard time tonight. Mike had warned me that if I called Mom I would get an earful about the dust-up with Carter. My family thought I didn’t have cell coverage, out rappelling in the mountains with Mike, so I knew no one would call to check on me. I wondered what they were doing, and whether or not they missed me.
Mike knocked on the door separating my room from the bathroom, then poked his head in. He was already dressed in BDUs for our night maneuvers. “Chief, I thought you’d be crashed out. We have tracking exercises at oh-one-hundred. You should get some sleep while you can.”
I shook my head, my chest feeling tight. “When I get back home, how will I do this alone?”
Uncle Mike sat at the foot of my bunk. It squeaked from the added weight. “You aren’t alone, Matt. You have an entire team of Green Berets at your back.”
“That’s just it,” I said, embarrassed by the tremble in my voice. “I don’t. Johnson told me everyone’s leaving, either on regular deployment orders that can’t be changed because they’re needed elsewhere, or to check out supernatural activity, like you. I can’t even meet the other wielders. They have their own creatures to fight.”
“Colonel Black and I have been interviewing personnel from Fort Carson, people outside the 10th Airborne, but good soldiers. We’ll find you a partner” he said. “I promise.”
“Be good for you to find this ‘partner’ before I leave base, you know,” I said. “Since you’re abandoning me.”
The second I said it, I regretted it. The hurt look on Mike’s face made me want to crawl under the bed. Being homesick and in a pissy mood didn’t excuse being an a-hole.
“I have to find the right person and that takes time. I can’t entrust your safety to just any master sergeant with good hand-to-hand combat skills.” Uncle Mike stood. “We’ll find someone. For now, focus on the mission. Logistics have a funny way of sorting themselves out.”
I picked at my cuticles, ashamed for doubting him, and even more ashamed for continuing to doubt myself. If I was going to do anyone any good, I had to stop being a coward and prove I was worthy of being chosen. “I’m sorry…for what I said. I know you and the colonel won’t leave me twisting in the wind.”
“Never.” Mike dropped a hand on my shoulder. “Matt, I’m proud of you.”
He left and I stretched out in bed, feeling better. Mike always had my back. I wouldn’t gripe again—to prove I had his.
* * *
Friday, it
all clicked.
“No, Archer, no,” Lieutenant Johnson said during our final workout in the fighting gym. “If I’m coming at you with a left hook…don’t just duck then stand there. Duck and hit me on the underside. Don’t worry about that wooden knife, man, you won’t hurt me.”
I lunged and he grabbed my arm at the elbow. With a whirl and a twist, I ended up flat on my back.
“Down again, kid.” Johnson’s voice rumbled like a Harley in prime shape. “All right, let’s do it over, and this time, don’t get all nice on...”
Before he finished the sentence, I popped into a crouch and grabbed his knees from behind, butting him with my shoulder to make them bend. Johnson rolled over my back as I turned a somersault underneath him to keep from getting kicked in the head or squashed. After he dropped, I jumped on him.
Putting my knife against his throat, I said, “Something like that, sir?” I gave him a little smile, trying not to whoop with excitement.
Johnson laughed, his brown eyes alight. “Yeah, man, yeah.”
I glanced at Mike, who was leaning up against the gym wall to watch us spar and he smiled at me. I’d improved in my training much faster than he expected. He’d told me so, and that made me work even harder.
I even aced equipment training.
Later on Friday morning, Davis paced around Colonel Black’s office, barking out questions. “Name the standard night vision goggles supplied to the U.S. Military.”
“ATN PVS7-DP. They include Automatic Brightness Control and sixty hours of battery life,” I recited.
“Correct. At what elevation above the horizon does your sat-phone get a signal?”
“Any elevation above ten degrees.”
“Yes. What’s the resolution on your GPS display?”
“Four hundred by two-forty.” I rolled my eyes. “Any more questions, Specialist? I read the manuals like you assigned, so hit me.”
“That won’t be necessary. Let’s see how well you packed.”
Davis picked up my equipment bag and balanced it on his hand. “Feels even.” He unzipped it and rifled through the contents, taking a long time to check everything out. “All the gear’s in the right place, except…where’s the knife?”
Matt Archer: Monster Hunter Page 7
