The Monster Hunters

by Larry Correia

  “Grumpy fella, used to be a miner?” Earl asked. “Met him. Nice guy.”

  There were a few men bundled up against the cold, huddled in the back of each truck, rifles at the ready, watching. “I volunteered him. He’s a tough old cuss. Used to be Grandpa’s hunting buddy. He’s a good shot, at least when he’s not liquored up.”

  Earl smiled. “Is that often?”

  “Only at deer camp. Those old timers all loved Grandpa’s homemade booze. It tasted like paint thinner and rusty nails, but it sure did clean out the sinuses.”

  She sounded a little better. Earl reasoned that eating your own dog could be rather traumatic. “How’re you holding up?”

  “I’m not a quitter, if that’s what you’re wondering. I took an oath to protect this town, and I’m going to keep it.” The words came out with steely determination.

  “I’m focused on stopping these monsters, getting that amulet and getting cured. That’s it. Let’s go.”

  It appeared the locals were doing as Earl had instructed: using multiple vehicles, keeping them in the center of the road as a kind of mobile fire base, providing cover as another group went door to door, knocking. The trucks had spotlights, but they weren’t using them right now. They could actually see farther without the falling snow reflecting the light back into their eyes. The key to fighting something fast and stealthy was by not putting yourself somewhere it could get a line on you. There were at least two guns pointed at them as they parked. These people were scared, but they were ready to fight. Earl was impressed, and he didn’t impress easily. MHI was going to be able to do a lot of good recruiting in this town, provided anybody survived the night. Copper Lake was keeping it together, but he also knew that if these men came up against the Alpha, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  This street was on the outskirts of town. There were only a few big houses, and behind them was nothing but trees. The squads had probably covered the rest of the town by now. Earl got out, dragging along his Thompson and tugging his coat tight against the freezing cold.

  A young man hopped over the tailgate of the nearest truck and headed toward them. “Deputy,” the kid shouted to be heard over the wind. He seemed excited. “We found something! You’ve got to see this. Come on.” Heather looked at Earl, shrugged, and followed. “This was the last house, but man, you won’t believe what’s inside.”

  Several sets of boots had crushed a path through an iron gate and up to a large dwelling. It was difficult to tell in the weather, but it seemed like one of the nicer homes Earl had seen in Copper Lake. If it wasn’t considered a mansion, then it was real close. Their guide slipped his way up the path to where two other armed men were waiting at the bottom of the steps. They seemed nervous. The kid pointed them onward before settling in with the others. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to enter the shelter of the home.

  The door was open. There was one figure waiting in the shadows at the top of the stairs. Earl barely recognized Aino under his giant wool hat and the scarf that was covering the lower part of his face. The old man seemed huge under all the layers. “Happy to see nothin’s ate ya yet, Heather.” He gave Earl a curt nod. “And, Mr. Earl, glad to see you jump in. I guess this is more fun than huntin’ bears, eh?”

  Earl returned the nod. “What did you find?”

  “Something odd.” Aino leaned to the side and spit over the railing. “It’s inside.” He stomped his feet on the mat out of habit before entering, leading the way with the beam of his flashlight.

  Earl started in, then realized that Heather was standing, frozen. Her eyes were wide, darting back and forth. Something had spooked her.“Werewolves?”

  She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Not now, but there was. One of them is strong. He lives here.”

  “Who lives here?” Earl asked, already suspecting the answer.

  “I don’t know. This is his . . .” Heather paused, smelling the air. “It’s making my head swim. I can’t believe you can’t smell that. Musky. It’s like really strong cologne.”

  Earl cursed his pathetic homo-sapiens senses. Conover’s informant had said that Nikolai had just arrived in the country, so this had to be the Alpha’s territory. Their mystery man was a local.

  “Come on,” Aino shouted from inside. “Sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

  Earl entered, shining his Streamlight along the walls. The place was nice, but unadorned. No pictures, no decorations. It was too clean. Heather followed a moment later, her manner subconsciously meek. Earl recognized the behavior. An Alpha was incredibly intimidating to lesser werewolves, and they were entering his den without permission. He’d always been too stubborn to bow to any werewolf, but he remembered the feeling. Every instinct Heather had was probably telling her not to come inside. Earl understood how much courage that took, even if she didn’t. “Who owns this place?”

  His voice seemed to startle Heather back to reality. She swallowed hard. “Used to belong to the Quinn family. The mine owners, before they got sued into oblivion after the big cave-in.” She was gripping her shotgun so hard that her gloves creaked on the forearm. “It was empty for a long time. Then this guy from out of town bought it last summer and fixed it up as a vacation home.” She scowled as Earl shined his light around the mostly empty reception room. “I never met him. He keeps to himself when he is around, lives alone.”

  “He got a name?”

  “Smith, I think,” she answered as they tracked Aino’s bobbing light around the corner and into the living room.

  “Uh-huh. I bet it is.”

  “The local girls talked about him a lot. He was single, supposed to be good-looking, apparently rich, day trader or something from back East, but he wasn’t the social type.”

  Earl was still thinking about how the Alpha had called him father, but for the life of him, Earl couldn’t recall anyone that he’d ever spread the curse to without having dealt with the repercussions immediately. It was possible that maybe Rocky would have damaged those memories, but there weren’t any gaps in his journal sufficient to explain this. Maybe there would be something here that would clue him in as to who he was dealing with.

  The living room was huge, with a vaulted ceiling that opened up to a second floor. Aino was waiting for them by the dead fireplace. “We came through here and spotted a couple of RVs parked round back. The plates were from out’a state, so I figured there’d be guests stayin’ here. Nobody answered, so we broke down the door and came on in. That’s when I saw this. . . .” Aino aimed his light at the far wall, illuminating a monstrosity. Heather gasped and took an involuntary step back.

  “Damn.” Earl whistled. “That ain’t something you see every day.”

  The skeleton was massive. It would have been too tall to fit in any room with a regular ceiling. The shadow the dark bones cast made it appear even bigger. The teeth gleamed white. One clawed hand was held out, palm open, as if warning them to come no closer. Standing on its rear legs, it towered over them, ugly as sin.

  “Mr. Smith had some weird tastes in home decor.” Puzzled, Earl approached the bones cautiously, knowing from experience that just because something was dead didn’t mean it might not try to murder you. Yet it was not some fierce undead, just a bunch of bones held together with stainless-steel rods. It was a museum-quality display. The skull leered at him, grinning with long teeth that, despite their condition, still appeared razor sharp.

  “At first I thought this guy had hisself a dinosaur—you know rich folks. But that ain’t no dinosaur, now, is it, eh? It’s got a wolf’s head. Poached and skinned enough of the things to tell,” Aino said. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Heather. What’re you gonna do? Cite me? Look at the skull. That’s a wolf’s skull on a man-shaped body. Sound familiar?”

  “It’s a werewolf, all right.” Earl circled the stand, studying how the bones came together. “Just not like any I’ve ever seen.”

  “Because it’s the size of a moose.”

 
; “It ain’t just the size. You should see a warg some time.”

  “What’s a warg?” Aino asked.

  “A real pain in the ass to potty train,” Earl muttered. He lit a cigarette as he paced around the fossil, scowling at the oddity. You can’t study monsters for a century and not learn a thing or two about biology. These looked like werewolf remains, but they were wrong in more ways than just the size. The claws were thicker and too curved. The jaws were longer. The joints were wrong. Though werewolves could run on all fours for short bursts, they were primarily bipeds. Though the stand had this thing upright, it appeared it would be much more comfortable with all four paws on the ground. “I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my day, but I don’t have a clue what this thing is.”

  Heather spoke up for the first time. “It’s old.”

  “Probably.” Earl examined the creature’s outstretched arm. The bones were remarkably thick. If it had the regenerative abilities of a werewolf, it would have been a nightmare to fight. “Hard to tell when it died.”

  “No, I mean it’s really old. I can sm—” Heather glanced over at Aino. “I just can tell. This thing is ancient.”

  Earl knew her nose was telling her things far beyond her logical comprehension. “How old do you think?”

  “Well, I don’t actually know.”

  There was knowledge, and then there was instinct. “Give me your best guess.”

  Heather seemed embarrassed. “I’ve got a feeling this thing was hunting wooly mammoths, if you get my drift.”

  Not for the first time, Earl found himself missing his werewolf senses. He’d forgotten just how unaware humans were about the world around them. If only he could—Earl caught himself. Don’t be an idiot. After longing to be free of the curse for a lifetime, now by some miracle he’d got his wish and only a few hours later he was whining about it. Hypocrite.

  Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Earl followed the creature’s forearm down to the extended claws. Just like a werewolf. This was no paw: it was a hand, fingers, and an opposable thumb. It took him a moment to realize what was wrong.

  There were only three fingers. The pinky was missing. It wouldn’t seem so odd, except that the skeleton was remarkably complete. The bone had been sheared off, but he couldn’t tell if that had been before or after it had died.

  A fragment of his dream broke loose. The cigarette fell forgotten from his lips. It was as if the dead bones were covered in muscle and sinew, skin and fur. It was a living, breathing monstrosity, thrashing against the thick ropes that bound it to heavy stones. A lone warrior stepped forward to chain the monster’s soul, while an army of men pulled on the ropes, dragging the mighty claw up, for the warrior to place his own palm against it.

  He blinked, and the vision was gone. Hesitantly, Earl extended his hand until his palm touched the cold bone and steel rods. It was the image of the amulet. It was the beginning.

  “Holy shit . . .” Earl stepped away. He rubbed his face in his hands. This wasn’t some mere museum decoration. This was a sacred object. For the Alpha, this was holy ground.

  “What is it, Harbinger?” Heather asked quickly.

  “It’s the first one,” he whispered. Just like the images from when the Alpha had torn the curse from his soul; this was the beginning. He turned toward Heather. “This is how the curse started!”

  “So, it’s a caveman werewolf?” Heather asked.

  “No. This was never a human being. People think of werewolves as a cross between a man and a wolf, but they’re not. The behavior is wrong. The features are wrong. It’s a cross between man and something, all right, but something different from a wolf. Similar, but something older, stronger. Something extinct. Something worse. ”

  Aino scratched his stubbly face. “I don’t get what you’re saying.”

  Heather instinctively knew. “This thing started as a wolf, but got twisted. Corrupted somehow.”

  “There are other shapeshifters out there. All sorts. Man and animal combined, but none are near as savage as the werewolf.” Earl finally stopped and stared right into the ocular cavity of the huge skull. “Look at it! It’s—”

  “Beautiful.”

  The voice had come from above. Earl spun around as Aino’s light flickered up. Nikolai Petrov leaned over the upstairs railing, haggard, with dark circles under his wild eyes. Earl reached for his Thompson but knew it was too late. The Russian gave a small, fatalistic smile as he casually pointed his strange rifle at Earl’s face. “Place your weapons on the ground. Slowly.”

  Nikolai had the drop on them. Earl complied, sliding the sling over his head and putting the Thompson on the carpet. He must have snuck in an upstairs window. Distracted by the bones, none of them had even heard him coming. Heather and Aino were hesitating, but Earl shook his head at them. With Nikolai’s inhuman reaction times, they’d be dead before either could lift their guns.

  “Sidearms as well.” Nikolai was wearing a bloodstained coat and a shirt that had been torn to rags. The ribcage was visible through his too-pale skin. Nikolai was little more than a walking skeleton. Their battle had taken a fierce toll. “You should have finished me when you had the opportunity, Harbinger.”

  Cursing himself, Earl tossed his revolvers on the floor and slowly raised his hands to a position of surrender. “If somebody hadn’t set me on fire, I would’ve.”

  “Yes. Fortunate. I should just shoot you now, but—” Nikolai suddenly grimaced, as if in terrible pain. Earl tensed, ready to go for his revolver, but Nikolai’s gun did not waver. The Russian’s face turned red as he rapidly blinked. “I have to know why. Why did you do it? After all these years, why did you break our truce?”

  “I didn’t do any—”

  Nikolai jerked, the muscles of his face twitching hard. “Shut up!” he shouted, spit flying from his lips. “Shut up!”

  “I was trying to answer your question.”

  “Not you, idiot,” Nikolai snarled, steadying himself against the railing. “Him. I asked you a question, Harbinger. Answer me.”

  Nikolai’s lost it. “Well, I will if you’d quit yelling,” Earl said, using the calmest voice he had. “Make up your mind.”

  Nikolai moved the rifle slightly and blew a hole in the carpet a few inches in front of Earl’s boot. The gun was suppressed, but the sound still made a resounding THUMP in the enclosed space. “No more games. Why did you kill her? She’d done nothing to you.”

  “I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Earl said.

  “You came all the way to Sklad to rip her apart.”

  “Where the fuck is Sklad?”

  “It was my home!” Nikolai roared. The next bullet winged Earl’s leg, just barely creasing armor and scratching flesh. Earl flinched. Heather cried out. His minotaur-hide jacket might stop a rifle bullet, but regular Hunter armor wouldn’t. Earl knew the next one was going through something vital. The scratch burned and let loose a thin trickle of blood.

  “Never been there, never heard of the place, and I don’t recall going out of my way to kill anybody recently.”

  A different sound came out of Nikolai, deep and guttural. “He lies!” Then his voice returned to normal. “I told you to shut up!” Then back to deep. “He’s a trickster. Destroy him!” Nikolai shook his head. “First, I must know the truth.”

  Earl glanced toward Heather. She was more confused than he was. Aino mouthed the word crazy. Earl turned back to Nikolai. “I didn’t come into your territory. You came into mine. I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A scowl creased Nikolai’s face. “He’s telling the truth. But how . . . how did his scent—the patch. Wait . . . You wanted me to believe. You lied to me.”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “I’m not talking to you, Harbinger!” Nikolai was growing increasingly frustrated. “It was a simple trick. I should have seen right through it, but you let me believe. All this time, you clouded my mind, all so you could run free.”

  The Russian wa
s erratic, and the crazier he got, the odds of them getting shot grew. “You were lured here. I think we both were. Lower that gun, Nikolai. We’ve got a mutual enemy.”

  The Russian’s face contorted. For a moment he appeared to be an entirely different person. Nikolai’s strange, deep voice intruded. “Harbinger lies! I would never betray you.”

  “I’ve been framed. Can’t you see? We’re both being used. Me, you, and . . . you. Both of you have been set up.”

  “Don’t patronize me. I should kill you where you stand . . . but you’re telling the truth. You do not have the amulet. I would be able to feel it. In fact . . .” Nikolai sniffed the air. “Impossible. The wolfsbane must be corrupting our senses. I can smell the female, but I can’t smell you. It’s as if you’re just one of them.”

  He knows. Perhaps if he could get Nikolai off guard, he’d have a chance. “Your real enemy used that amulet to remove my curse. I’m only a man. I’m no longer any threat to you, but the other Alpha is. He’s powerful, too powerful, and he’s up to no good. He’s got dark magic and minor Old Ones helping him. Help me stop him, Nikolai. He’s the one that hurt your woman, not me.”

  Nikolai went quiet, deep in thought. Standing perfectly still, they waited for nearly a minute. Despite the cold, Earl felt a single bead of sweat roll down his forehead. His arms were starting to quiver from holding them up. Nikolai seemed to breathe again. His next words dripped with weariness. “I know now what I must do.”

  Then, with incredible speed, the Russian acted. The sudden movement surprised Earl, but rather than using the rifle, Nikolai tossed it aside as he leapt over the railing. He landed effortlessly, crouched in the living room. Earl’s hands flew downward to snatch a revolver from the ground. Nikolai charged as the Smith & Wesson filled his hand, but Earl knew he was too late. His human reaction speeds were too slow. Nikolai was just too fast.

  One skeletal hand locked around Earl’s wrist like a vise. Nikolai’s gold-flecked eyes were staring into Earl’s, so close he could smell the Russian’s breath. Yet Nikolai stopped, only inches away. Slowly, Nikolai released Earl’s gun hand and took a step back. The two watched each other, Earl knowing that Nikolai could easily strike him down before he could raise his gun. What’s he doing? Nikolai gave the slightest hint of a nod, like a gunfighter at high noon, and Earl tensed, waiting for the killing blow.