Monster Hunter Siege-eARC

by Larry Correia

  The next time I woke up, I actually felt something.

  I paid attention to my body, and was immediately consumed in agony, but I stuck around, because any change was good. Even if an Old One was about to dig me up with its tentacles and eat me as a snack, that was an improvement.

  Vibrations? The ground was shifting. Was it an earthquake? Was I dreaming awake? Or had so much time passed that Asag had ruined Earth, and he was coming back to rub it in my face? Feet were stamping the ground. I could feel it in my dirt filled inner ear. Either something was happening above me or my mind had finally broken.

  I tried to force my limbs to move. Nothing happened. Muscle tremors at best, and I probably imagined those. I had no air, no energy, Help! I couldn’t make a sound, and this might sound desperate and stupid, but I thought it as hard as I could. Help! Down here!

  The vibrations continued. There was a rhythm to them. Thunk. Scrape. Thunk. Scrape. Someone was digging.

  The sound continued. It wasn’t a shovel, stab and lift. It was like they were using a flat rock. Drive it in, scrape it out. Was I being rescued? Or had the Asakku decided that they were still hungry, and since their master was away, they might as well eat me too? The vibrations were getting stronger. It felt like they were getting closer.

  The digging stopped for a bit. No! Had they given up? I tried as hard as I could to move, to give them some indication that they were working in the right spot. Even if it was a disobedient and hungry Asakku, that was better than this hole.

  Thankfully, the digging started again. I felt something. Moisture? Water must have been pooling in the hole and seeping through my dirt. Then something touched me. It actually scraped hard across the top of my scalp. It hurt, but it was a new and different kind of hurt, so that was the best thing ever. Then I felt desperate fingers feeling around my head as dead roots were stripped away by hand.

  I felt the patter of raindrops on my head. The fingers reached my eyes, roughly brushing the dirt away. An errant finger nail knocked my eye open the tiniest crack. By the time I could see anything at all the mystery digger had freed one ear too.

  My vision was so encrusted and blurred, that all I could see was a darker spot in the night. The mud was like ear plugs so I could barely hear, but the rain water was running in and rinsing some of it out. “Almost there,” the shadow whispered.

  It was a man and I didn’t think it was Asag. This was the happiest moment of my life.

  I still couldn’t move. I suspected I needed to breathe for that. But he scooped a few handfuls of wet dirt away from my nose and mouth. My lungs should have long since collapsed, but it was like they caught on fire when the first air molecule hit. I reflexively inhaled as my body broke free of the magical stasis.

  “Shhhh. Quiet,” the shadow hissed. But a white shape appeared behind the man. Something had heard my gasp. “Hang on.” He pulled away and disappeared.

  No. Come back! I cried out in my mind, but I didn’t make any more sounds. My body was coming back to life, but with an awful, tingly sensation, like a million hot needles being stabbed into every nerve and vein.

  The white thing got closer, revealing that it was a curious Asakku. The awkward creature got closer, peering down at me, surely wondering why my face was suddenly exposed to the elements.

  The shadow rose behind it. One hand covered the Asakku’s misshapen mouth. Then there was a flood of red as the creature’s throat was slashed. It struggled soundlessly for a moment, but then it stopped, and the shadow lowered it gently to the ground.

  He appeared over me again, and now I could see the whites of his eyes, gleaming in a face that had been blacked out with grease paint. He immediately went back to digging. He kept his voice down. “Try to move now.”

  I did. It hurt unbelievably bad, but I was able to shift my body a little. The soil had never been that hard, I had just been that weak. The magic that had animated the roots had long since died off, because I was able to tug against them and there was some give. I tried to tell my rescuer that I could move now. Only breathing was fire. Talking was impossible. Deprived of air, thirst had been so far down my list of problems that I hadn’t even realized how dry my mouth was. As soon as I could use my hands again the first thing I was going to do was pry a bunch of dirt out of my mouth.

  He kept working, glancing around constantly, watching for more Asakku. I could sense some movement, and I thought I heard snoring. There were a couple of small camp fires nearby. The big cooking bonfire was out. My nose was too plugged to smell anything, but I was guessing the Fey stew had been gone for a long time. The burning armor piles had probably cooled into solid metal blobs by now. The stranger got one of my hands free, and then with surprising strength, began pulling me out. Some of the roots made an audible snap as they broke.

  The stranger froze. I was half way out of the ground now, and realizing that the Asakku had made camp only fifty feet away. The snoring Asakku grunted, but then rolled over and went back to sleep. The man watched for another moment to make sure we weren’t spotted, then pulled me the rest of the way out of the hole. Slowly, to avoid loudly snapping any more roots.

  The stranger went prone next to me. I could barely make out his features in the dark, especially since his face was painted. He was wearing an old fashioned boonie hat and tiger stripped camouflage fatigues. He was younger than me, a little smaller, but solid as a rock. “Just breathe slow. Don’t cough. You cough, they’ll hear. Gather your strength. Wait for the curse to fade. It’ll take a minute for your muscles to work again. I’ll carry you until then.”

  I lay there, quivering and hurting. My limbs felt like boiled noodles. Though he was whispering, his voice sounded familiar, but it couldn’t be…

  Dad?

  Was this whole thing a hallucination? Even if it was, I’d run with it, because it was better than the hole.

  Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes were tracking an Asakku that was wandering in our direction. Those eyes narrowed, and though this man was only in his twenties, I’d seen that same look a multitude of times. The look told me he was analyzing a problem and figuring out a plan to take care of it. Didn’t matter if it was repairing the roof, mowing the lawn, or killing a sentry, it was the same expression. There was a creak as his fist tightened around something. I now saw that the bloody thing in his hand was my kukri. Without a word he began low crawling through the brush toward his target, moving like a ghost. Within seconds I lost sight of him.

  Was this another trick? Had I been found by Dad’s ghost, or had Asag taken another form to fool me again? But what would he have to gain? Had the demon dug me up to give me hope, only to snatch it away? Even in this messed up place I was pretty sure I wasn’t dreaming. This seemed real.

  There wasn’t just one Asakku, but two, and these were actively patrolling, with muskets over their shoulders. Then the one in back dropped. Its death was so clean and quiet that the one in the lead hadn’t even noticed. A few seconds later that one got pulled behind a tree. There was a brief gurgle, and then silence.

  It was brutally efficient. I hadn’t just been dug up by my dad, but I’d been rescued by the Vietnam era, snake-eating, jungle commando version.

  He didn’t come back for what felt like forever. By the time he crawled up, scary quiet, I felt like my arms and legs might actually respond to my commands. Dad had been busy. He was covered in blood. Just like the bedtime stories he’d told us as kids, he had been taking scalps.

  “You gonna walk, son, or do I have to carry you?”

  * * *

  We made it all the way to the river with me leaning on his shoulder before the Asakku realized a bunch of them had just gotten murdered and raised the alarm.

  They were sure to track us. Running was out of the question. My legs weren’t working very well at all. My balance was so shot that I couldn’t stand on my own without falling over. No running meant fighting. Dad had my kukri. I had been surprised to learn I still had my pistol, because the roots had tethered my fin
gers too it, so I’d had it in my hand the whole time. Only it was empty. So I stuck it into a mud filled cargo pocket, and hoped that this magical stasis bullshit would wear off before the Children got here to eat us, so I could at least go down fighting.

  When the Asakku began shrieking, my dad stopped and looked back that way. “They’ll catch up, but we’ve got a few minutes.” He gently set me down on the grass. The river was a few feet away, wide and fast. “Can you talk yet?”

  I tried, but failed miserably. I’d been coughing up dirt the whole way, so at least my airway was clear.

  “Hang on.” He went over to the river, then came back with his hands cupped, full of water. He held the water to my lips and I choked some down. I never knew water could burn your throat. I tried to give him a thumb’s up.

  He knelt next to me, looking exactly like the old photo Mom had given me in the hospital, confident, competent, and mean as hell. “You’re still feeling the side effects of being imprisoned. It should wear off rapidly, but you’re gonna be hurting for a while. Keeping you at the ragged edge between life and death is a hell of a strain.”

  My dad came back for me. If I could have cried, I probably would have. I tried to tell him thanks.

  “You were right, son. Asag was top dog here, but as soon as he left, your mind started changing things. You’ve got more power than he thought. He thought you’d go insane or catatonic. You might not feel like it right now, but you’re stronger than anything else here. You’re dragging the exit closer and closer. Just follow the river and you’ll get home.”

  I managed to gasp something that sounded like, “How?”

  “How do I know? Or how am I here?” He grinned. His teeth were really white compared to his painted face. I think he was enjoying himself. “That’s all on you. Listen, I know you’re all emotional and shit right now, but here’s the ugly truth that you already know deep down inside. I’m not going to pussy foot around about it, because you know the real Auhangamea Pitt never would. The demon wasn’t lying when he said he’d blocked ghosts from finding you. When you needed to survive, you thought back to the man who taught you how to survive.”

  I didn’t understand, or maybe I did, and I really didn’t want to.

  “I’m not really here. I’m not your dad. You needed a way out, so you created one.”

  And when I left, he’d cease to exist. Again. I’d be killing him all over again.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t. You’re wrong. The real me is just fine. Auhangamea Pitt got one hell of a life out of all that borrowed time. He loved one woman. A wonderful woman. He had two boys. And they grew up strong. You’ll never understand how proud he was until you watch your own grow up. If you get to, because you know Asag wasn’t lying about that either.”

  I nodded.

  He tilted his head to the side and listened. “They’re closing faster than I thought.” He got up, walked over to a chunk of log, and picked it up. “Should be buoyant.” He dragged it over and dropped it on my legs. “Hold onto this. Hold on like your life depends on it. No matter what, don’t let go.”

  Coming out of my imagination or not, I tried to tell him thanks.

  “You’re welcome.” He squatted down next to me again. “Now let me tell you something you don’t know. Your real dad would have kept that promise to wait, but lying there in that hospital bed, he got offered a choice. He was given one last chance to help. They knew ghosts couldn’t get through, sure, but maybe, just maybe, if it came from a ghost that cared hard enough, a little piece of one could reach you. Given that choice, Auhangamea Pitt didn’t even hesitate. What snuck through, what you’ve got right here is just one small aspect of a great man. He sent the part that scared even him, the part that he kept locked up until it was needed. He wouldn’t need it anymore where he was going.”

  My equilibrium was still too screwed up to walk carrying the log, so he stuck the tip of the kukri in the dirt, then dragged me down into the cold water. It was another shock to my already shocked system. He let go of me and went back to retrieve the knife. I began floating downstream.

  “When you needed me, I was ready, and you gave me form. You asked for help. You got the Destroyer. So now I’m gonna go do what I was made to do.”

  I managed to croak the word, “Kill.”

  “Naw. My mission’s always been to get everybody home that I could. The killing is just a happy bonus.”

  As I was carried away on the current, a horde of Asakku came rushing out of the trees. Muskets roared. Heavy bullets smacked into the river. The Destroyer nodded goodbye, and then went to work.

  I watched him cut down a monster, shoot another with its musket, and then flip it around to use as a club to beat a third one’s head in before the river took me out of sight.

  The waters were very fast. I held on for dear life as the log careened off of rocks. My face was drenched in freezing spray. I kept getting sucked under, and then I’d pop back out gasping a moment later. I couldn’t steer. All I could do was try to hit the oncoming rocks with something other than my head.

  I think the cold violence of the river snapped me out of the magical lethargy. Either that, or it was the insane terror of body surfing rapids. My log was cracking and splintering from the impacts. I interlaced my fingers and hugged that thing like it was the most important relic in the history of the world. I would have married it if I could.

  With every fiber of my being all I wanted to do was get out. It was a good thing nobody could read my mind anymore, because right then I internally sounded like Dorothy. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. If I was really capable of warping this reality now, then I wished for this river’s course to change so that it flowed directly into the portal. If I couldn’t steer my log, I’d steer the whole damned river. I would have kept my fingers crossed, but that would have slightly loosened my grip on my log, so screw that.

  The speed and intensity of the river continued to get worse. I kept getting sucked under. Logically, I’d learned this place would keep you alive even without air, but instinct is instinct. Each time my head was above water, the roar got louder. Or maybe the river had cleaned all the mud out of my ear canals. After one bounce, I came up sputtering and choking, but this time facing in the direction so I could see where I was going.

  At first I cringed, thinking I was heading straight for a waterfall. But then I recognized the weirdly glowing fog around it, and realized that the river was flowing directing into the portal.

  I’d gotten my wish.

  It wasn’t a fall. It was a swirling drain. There wasn’t even any time to dread what was going to happen next. It all went too fast. One second I was being dragged along, and then I was falling through a weird world of waves and purple mist. Directions quit making sense. And then I hit something really hard. My fingers popped and I lost hold of the log.

  Submerged, still being pulled, I spiraled through the darkness.

  And then I was rolling down a flight of stone stairs covered in a few feet of rushing water. It was the worst water slide ever. I hit every stair on the way down and then slid across the floor. I crashed into a cable, then struck a toppled construction light. The light was still working, casting bizarre shadows as every horrible thing that had been living in the Nightmare river swam by. I caught a metal bar and held on tight. I managed to get my head up to gasp in a lungful of air. Which was when it sank in that I was holding onto something real, made of steel, and screws, and rubber wrapped copper wire, which had been made by humans…On Earth!

  A powerful light blinded me. “Over there! I got something.” I could barely hear them over the water rushing by my face.

  There were other lights pointing my way. I couldn’t see a damned thing. I couldn’t lift a hand to shield my eyes because I was worried I’d get swept away. One of the lights bobbed closer. From the way it was bouncing it was coming from a head lamp. Somebody was fighting my way through the deluge, probably attached to a safety line so they wou
ldn’t get swept away to plummet over the edge into the City of Monsters.

  “I think it’s one of ours!” the closest one shouted. “It’s Z!”

  Trip!

  “Tie that down. I’m going after him,” he told someone else. “Hold on, Z! I’m on the way.” He made his way through the rushing water, repeatedly getting knocked off his feet, but always getting back up and fighting on. “Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.” He landed next to me. I could hear the creak and twang of a cable attached to his armor. That was the only thing keeping him safe. He was risking his life for me. He fumbled with a D-ring, got a cord over my head and one arm, made sure it was snug, before shouting, “Pull us back!”

  Compared to my river run, getting dragged through this little bit of the City of Monsters was a piece of cake. Once the lights weren’t shining directly in my eyes, I could see what was going on. The portal was still there, only it had turned into a massive fountain, and a whole river worth of water was exploding through, geysering high into the air before spilling in every direction. I couldn’t even guess how many thousands of gallons were pumping through by the minute.

  Come to think of it, if Asag really had assembled an army below the City of Monsters, I might have just drowned them. Sweet.

  “I was starting to give up hope you were ever coming back!” Trip shouted in my ear.

  “Me too.”

  There was a group of four Hunters gathered at the highest spot of the dais around the portal. It was the only thing that wasn’t currently submerged. Judging by the flooded equipment sticking out of the water, they had set up a base camp right next to the portal. Tents were being washed away. Pieces of equipment had been turned over. When we got closer, a couple of other Hunters splashed down the steps, got hold of me and Trip, and helped us the rest of the way.

  There was a diesel generator on the dais, so the lights up here were still on. I recognized most of the faces, but Trip was the only other American and member of MHI.

  “Ha!” One of them was the Israeli, David Gerecht. “I told you I’d still be holding this place when you got back.”