The Monster Hunters

by Larry Correia

  “What are you saying?”

  “Your daddy’s alive.” She put the accent on alive, almost as if she was singing it. “Well, not really alive, as you know, but something so much better.”

  “Lying bitch!” Julie shouted.

  “Wait, there’s more,” Susan laughed. “The Feds were expecting some easy-to-handle, wimpy, new creation . . . A weak new vampire. You had your daddy for two nights. I visited him the first night and you never even knew. He was so happy to see me. He would have done anything I asked of him. He even partook of my blood. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “I’m going to stake you if it’s the last thing I do,” Julie vowed.

  “You didn’t answer my question, but of course you know. As soon as he died, he rose again, far stronger than they expected. He’s already escaped. He’s returning to me as we speak. His mind will heal. He’ll be whole again. Isn’t that wonderful, honey? One big happy family.” There was a whoosh of air, and then Susan’s laughter sounded from back the way that we had come.

  “Owen . . . find that gate,” Sam whispered. I turned back to the wall, desperately running my hands over the cool rock, looking for some indication of the Place of Power.

  “Oh, my darling Sam. I can hear you. No need to whisper. That’s impolite amongst friends. I always loved you for your heart and your courage. You can come with us too. Join my family.”

  He scowled and spit tobacco juice on the ground. “Susan, you were a mighty fine woman when you were alive and all, but personally I’d rather be gang-raped by giant, rabid, syphilitic porcupines, than join your shithead, hippie-commune, undead family, you scrawny-ass vampire skank whore.” He wiped his good arm across his mustache. “It’s gonna be a cold day in hell before you’ve got the balls to come down here and take an ounce of red American blood out of Sam Roger Haven, you slack-jawed, hare-lip, monkey-humping pus bag.”

  “So be it. Still stubborn as ever. And Milo. Faithful Milo. So loyal. So creative. I have a place of honor set aside for you.”

  “Uh . . . what Sam said, and stuff,” Milo answered bravely. “Leave us alone. We aren’t here for you. We just want Lord Machado. You don’t want the world destroyed.”

  “Honey, my world is going to be just fine.” She sounded closer now, right outside our circle of glow sticks, somehow evading the beams of our flashlights. She was coming for us, and soon.

  I continued to rub my hands over the rock. I needed a seam, a crack, some carvings, anything. The portal had to be here somewhere. I could feel it. In my dream it had just opened right up for the Cursed One. Julie glanced at me anxiously. They were counting on me.

  “Last chance, kids.” Susan sang. “I’m getting tired of screwing around.”

  “Z! Hurry!” Holly pleaded. “We need to go!”

  “Working on it,” I answered.

  “Here she comes,” Sam said, raising his Sig and aiming it into the dark. Mist swirled around the beam from his pistol-mounted M3 light. The mist coalesced into the form of a woman. She was too close. We wouldn’t be able to put her down in time. Other shapes began to emerge from behind her, shuffling slowly toward us, red eyes coming into focus. Wights. At least a dozen of them at first, and then more, lots more. Red eyes seemingly winking into existence all across the cavern. They were bristling and snarling, held at bay only by the Master vampire’s command.

  “Susan! Don’t make me hurt you!” Milo said as he stepped in front of the others. “I know the real you has to be in there somewhere. You can still repent of your evil ways. It’s never too late. Don’t make it come to this!”

  “Milo? Get out of the way!” Julie ordered as she pushed around me, looking for a good angle.

  “You want to test your faith against me? What, do you think this is a Dracula movie or something?” Susan’s dark silhouette laughed as she batted her glowing eyes. “I’m way out of your league, honey.”

  Milo Anderson closed his eyes and bowed his head, the lower half of his face disappearing into his bushy beard. He appeared to be praying. He did not move as Susan slowly walked toward him. Not even a tremble of fear, nothing.

  “Open the gate! Hurry!” Julie pleaded. “Milo, run!”

  “Dude! Get down!” Sam shouted. “Move, you idiot!”

  The faithful Hunter raised his head, smiled at us and winked. “Don’t worry, guys. It’s going to be okay. You had better get that portal opened, ’cause it’s going to get real exciting up in here.” He raised one arm as if to wave good-bye.

  Susan charged forward, her black shape disappearing in a blur as she surged toward Milo. He said something quickly as the vampire reached for him. There was an explosion of bright light, blinding all of us, searing right through our eyes and into our brains. I saw Milo’s skeleton through the flash. Good versus evil. Light versus dark. The cavern shook and dust and rock fell from the roof. Cracks appeared in the columns. The earth shook and I was thrown backward into Julie. Susan screamed, a great and terrible wail of pure hatred and evil. Lightning crackled across the chamber, tearing up chunks of rock.

  I swear that I heard Milo’s voice say; “Ooh . . . Pretty colors.”

  The wights, released from their psychic bonds, charged. The ones that ran too close to the clashing powers exploded in showers of sparks and flying meat. The others were going to be on us in seconds. Julie, Sam and Holly started to shoot. Our backs were against the wall. We had nowhere to go. I kept scrambling, looking for the exit. A wight leapt over a rock formation and landed directly in front of us. Sam shot it between the eyes and then kicked it backwards, impaling the creature on a sharp rock. He holstered his now-empty pistol, unable to load fast enough with one hand, and drew his massive knife. With a roar he tore into the undead, slashing and hacking, cursing and swearing. He was an amazing fighter, somehow dodging the claws and fangs, while stabbing and cutting furiously at the horde. There seemed to be hundreds of undead, black teeth extended, claws raised. They kept coming.

  The black cyclone that was Susan Shackleford crashed back under the curtain of light. Milo’s faith had been far more powerful than she had expected. More wights burst into flames. Julie screamed in pain as a wight reached her, slashing across her side with its paralyzing claws. She fell limply to her knees as her limbs went dead. I reached out and grabbed her by the drag strap on her armor and pulled her away from the creature. Shielding her with my body, I lashed out and kicked the beast in the chest, crushing its ribs and sending it flailing back. We had to get out of here fast.

  Damn stupid door. I wish it were here.

  A thin crack of red light moved down the rock in front of me. The portal gradually widened. All I had done was desire it to be there and it had worked.

  That wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself.

  The cold tentacles of the Cursed One exploded through the rift, encircled Julie and me, and jerked us violently through the gate.

  Chapter 27

  The writhing tentacles were wet and oily. They pinned my arms to my side. I struggled against them, but it was like being ensnared by a giant boa constrictor. I was momentarily blind inside the portal itself. There was no light in the tunnel to some other dimension. The air was thick and damp, and between that and the pressure on my lungs, I could barely breathe.

  We were dragged through the other side and it slammed shut behind us, leaving only blank white sky. Julie’s paralyzed form was roughly thrown onto the snow-covered ground. She rolled a few feet before stopping, seemingly unconscious, at the base of a tree.

  I was spun around violently, only to come face to face with the Cursed One.

  I had seen him in my dreams. I had seen him in visions. I had seen the world through the eye of his memory. I had felt his pain, fear, anger, lust and pride. I knew him better than he knew himself.

  But none of that prepared me for actually meeting him in person.

  I was frozen in terror. Rivulets of sweat turned into ice crystals. Every fiber of my being ached. My joints hurt to move. My eyes grate
d in their sockets. My teeth chattered compulsively as my body began to have involuntary convulsions. Here was pure evil. Hate beyond all human comprehension. I dangled above the ground, held by a thick tentacle that extended from under his robe where an arm should have been. I struggled helplessly in his grasp. The ancient helmet slowly lifted, and the crimson eyes bored into me.

  YOU.

  The word pounded inside my skull like a sledgehammer. His face was like a skull coated with cords of moving muscles that seemed to be made out of dirty congealed oil. He had no mouth.

  I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT WOULD BE YOU.

  He swung me through the air. The tentacle relaxed, releasing me, sending me flying. I had time to scream before impact. I rolled painfully through the thick underbrush, scattering snow, crackling roots, and breaking branches. We were on some sort of hilltop, and I slid and crashed violently as momentum and gravity took me down. I finally slid to a stop, lying in a pile of wet slush. I was in terrible pain. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the trees of the winter wonderland.

  JAEGER. TAKE HIM. WE ARE IN NEED OF A NEW SACRIFICE.

  “Yes, my Lord Machado.”

  The final Master approached. He still wore the leather trench coat as if it were a uniform. I flashed back to the image of him in his Nazi regalia, cleaving open Mordechai Byreika’s chest to pull out his beating heart.

  I wasn’t going down like that.

  There was a branch dangling overhead. I grabbed it and used it to pull myself to my feet, showering cold snow down on me. All of my weapons were still strapped into place. It was time to drop the hammer. The Fed prototype ENSCAR .308 was the most convenient. I flicked the safety off and brought it to my shoulder.

  “Freeze, asshat. That’s a nice coat. I’d hate to put some holes in it.”

  Jaeger stopped and ran his long fingers down the seam of his coat. “Yes, it is made out of children. Very supple leather, and such a lovely fragrance.” He smiled slightly, revealing his fangs. His hatchet face began to blur and shift into his true form.

  I NEED A LIVE SACRIFICE. DO NOT KILL HIM.

  Jaeger’s transformation stopped, and he once again appeared human. “Pity.” He moved toward me.

  I put the sight at his groin and pulled the trigger. I leaned into the weapon, controlling the recoil, driving the gun, stitching the vampire in one continuous twenty-round burst. The Feds’ composite silver ammunition penetrated a few inches of flesh before exploding in a violent cloud of powdered metal. The bolt locked back empty.

  Jaeger stumbled in the snow. His flesh was ripped asunder, his clothing hung in tatters, and black fluids spilled onto the white ground. Almost instantly he was whole again and striding my way. His hatchet face was a mask of fury.

  I dropped the smoking hot FN and lifted Abomination. Jaeger appeared before me, having covered the distance in an impossible amount of time. The Saiga barked as I fired the special shell into his open mouth. The wooden projectile shattered and splintered in his throat, every bit of it instantly transforming into burning energy as it touched undead flesh. Blue fire burst from his face, coming out of his eyes, his ears, his nostrils and mouth.

  I worked the bolt and shot him again, piercing his abdomen. I grasped the charging handle, pulled it back, ejecting the smoking plastic hull into the snow. The last of Mordechai’s shells entered the chamber, and I immediately launched it into Jaeger’s chest. His screams echoed through the trees as his entire body turned into a blue torch.

  I released the silver bayonet, lifted the shotgun like an awkward spear and slammed it through his throat, twisting and sawing against his ironlike spine. I had to take his head off. It was my only hope. He punched me in the chest. Distracted from the fire burning inside his brain, it was a weak hit for a Master, but still threw me back into a pine tree.

  I lay with my back against the cold bark, gasping for breath. The snowy branches settled around me, giving me the illusion of a quiet shelter. I reloaded Abomination just as Jaeger’s burning skull face appeared through the branches. His eyeballs had melted, and were dripping down his cheeks. I flipped the selector to full-auto and let him have it. Abomination emptied itself in a split second, pumping his chest full of silver. Undeterred, Jaeger grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me from my shelter.

  I drove Abomination forward, slamming the silver blade between his ribs and through his heart. Jaeger screamed as fluids erupted like a split hydrant. He lifted one fist overhead, ready to crush my brain. I could see my death looming in his burning sockets.

  ALIVE, JAEGER. I WILL NOT WARN YOU AGAIN.

  The vampire threw me away. The snow broke my fall as I tumbled further down the hill. I slid on my back, almost like I was sledding, until I toppled over the edge of a small crevasse and landed in a pile of fluffy white. I was up in an instant, lifting my feet, and trying to move through the heavy substance. Jaeger was above me, still disoriented, but coming around as the painful fire died. I lifted Abomination and aimed at him. At some point in the struggle my holographic sight had been broken. I estimated instead and fired the 40mm grenade.

  It impacted in the snow behind his feet. The concussion tore through him, sending him sprawling forward. I started to reload the grenade launcher when Abomination violently jerked from my hands. The Cursed One stood at the top of the hill, looking down. Just my luck, Lord Machado was telekinetic. He moved imperceptibly and my weapon was yanked away, the sling tearing into my neck, slicing into my skin, before ripping away and disappearing into the trees.

  Jaeger was up and moving. I drew the STI, falling instinctively into my regular isosceles stance, and opened fire. Jaeger leapt toward me, soaking up round after round. He knocked the gun into the snow, but I immediately drew the backup .45 and shot him some more. I was struck in the head. My helmet was torn off and sent flipping into the trees. He hit me again, lightly, just trying to capture me. I felt the muscles inside my chest tear and I gasped in agony. I fell back into the snow, still firing. He swatted the pistol away, and my left wrist snapped. I screamed as pain like an electric current moved down my arm. I kicked him in the knee. I might as well have kicked a brick wall. He caught my foot, and twisted it casually to the side. I almost passed out as my ankle broke.

  “I’ve obtained the sacrifice, my lord,” the vampire proclaimed loudly. Lying flat on my back, I brought my knee back to my chest, lifted my pant leg and pulled the .357 from my ankle holster. Jaeger looked down at the little muzzle in wonderment.

  “How many guns do you have?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Lots.” CRACK.

  I stroked the trigger, five times fast. He ignored the impacts, the wound channels were knitting closed before the bullets had even left his skull. He grabbed the little Smith and wrenched it from my hand. I cried out in pain as my trigger finger broke. He clapped his hands together and smashed the snubby into pieces.

  I tried to move. The vampire kicked me. For him it was a light blow; for me, agony. He pummeled me, smashing me in the stomach, in the ribs, in the arms and legs, and finally in the face. His limbs moved in a blur. He pounded me down into the snow. I felt other bones break. Tendons tore, muscles ripped, blood vessels ruptured. I tried to defend myself, but he was too quick. He could hear my heart and my internal workings. The hammer blows continued to rain down. He knew exactly how much punishment he could dish out before I would die. He took me to that edge and left me there.

  The beating finally stopped. Jaeger pulled back and smiled, satisfied that his work was done. His sacrifice was secure. I coughed up a gout of blood, rolled my head to the side, and watched the red spreading on white. I passed out.

  “Owen? Owen? Can you hear me? Please don’t die.”

  Agony. The worst pain ever.

  Julie was whispering. At least it sounded like Julie, but it was hard to tell over the ringing in my ear. The other ear did not seem to be working. I don’t know if that was because it was clogged with a blood clot, or if the eardrum had ruptured. I lay on my side, facing aw
ay from her. I tried to move, but my body was too tired and broken to respond. I forced myself anyway.

  It hurt so bad that I almost passed back out.

  “Oh no. Owen.” Julie sounded horrified. I had to look like shit. “Can you hear me?”

  I grunted, blowing red frothy bubbles from my lips. “I’m . . . fine . . .” I lied. The words hurt over my broken teeth and swollen tongue. I could not see her. My eyelids were matted closed with blood, and I could not force them open. I tried to reach a hand up to rub them, but my arms did not want to respond. All I could feel was horrible nerve-racking fire coming from my limbs.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “Can’t move,” I replied. I wished that I could see her.

  “No. Hold still. You’re hurt bad.”

  I figured that had to be pretty obvious.

  “I would try to help you, but I’m tied up.” I heard the clanking of iron as she tugged on her bonds.

  “How long?” I gasped.

  “Hours. You’ve been out for hours. I don’t know how long. My watch doesn’t seem to work here. The moon has got to be nearing its zenith.” We were running out of time. And I was not in any shape to do anything about it.

  “Others?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody else has come here.”

  “Where?”

  “We’re still in the pocket dimension.”

  “Bad guys?” I mumbled, and then coughed up blood. That was better. Breathing seemed a little easier.

  “Oh, Owen . . . I wish I could help you. Bad guys, they’re over there on the pyramid. They’ve been ignoring us.” She sounded distraught. I concentrated on her beautiful voice. I needed something pleasant to keep my mind on. “I’m chained to some ruins. Um . . . Looks like there used to be some sort of ancient temple in this pocket, it almost looks Assyrian.”

  “Did they . . . hurt you?”

  “A little. Nothing like you.”

  “How bad?”

  She hesitated, before finally deciding to give me the truth. “You look awful. I think he broke just about everything on you. There’s so much blood. They didn’t even bother to chain you. And your face . . .” I could tell that she was crying. “I’m so sorry.”