The Monster Hunters

by Larry Correia

  No attack came. Instead, Nikolai bowed.

  Earl speed rocked the revolver into position. They were so close he didn’t even need to aim. He drove the muzzle into the top of Nikolai’s skull.

  Nikolai spoke, calm for the first time since his arrival in the Alpha’s home. “I yield.”

  Finger on the trigger, Earl hesitated. “Huh?”

  The tone was humble. “You are the superior werewolf. I submit to the will of your pack.”

  “What?” A few more ounces of pressure and Earl would put a silver bullet through the top of his enemy’s head. “What . . . What are you doing, Nikolai?”

  “Surrendering. I challenged and failed. Do with me as you will.”

  Dumbfounded, Earl just stared at the man kneeling at his feet. “You miss the part where I’m not a werewolf anymore?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nikolai said, lowering his forehead until it touched the floor. “I need you. I’m not strong enough to hold him much longer. The Tvar, the beast inside me, believes in the old ways. He will follow. He has to. Instinct demands it. You won. We lost. I pledge myself to your pack. Do with me as you will . . . Kill me, but let me help you find the man that hurt Lila first.”

  Clack. Earl thumbed back the hammer of the Smith. Cocking a double-action was a totally unnecessary movement, but it made him feel more confident for some reason. “You’re insane. You had me, and you do . . . whatever the hell this is?”

  There was no response. Plea made, Nikolai waited patiently for his sentencing.

  “What’re you waitin’ for?” Aino shouted. “Shoot him already!”

  But for the first time in his life, Earl Harbinger was actually too surprised to kill someone.

  Chapter 20

  There are many gaps in my memory here, and for once I think I might actually be thankful to Rocky for taking something from me. Some things are better forgotten.

  I’d changed and gone out alone, hoping to find his scent, but Nikolai was too clever for that. I happened on some Viet Cong setting booby traps. I killed them and then followed their trail back to their base. It wasn’t an armed camp. It was a village.

  I can try to justify what happened next. These were the enemy. This was where they lived. There were families here, but it was my enemy’s fault for hiding behind them. This was war. Nikolai shouldn’t have pushed me. . . . But the excuses are hollow. They’re human excuses, human justifications. I was a werewolf, operating on instinct, and I was doing what came naturally.

  We found a new note several days later.

  Mr. Wolf,

  Playtime is over. Now we are getting down to serious business. I have been looking for a suitable challenge, and it seems I have finally found one. With respect.

  —Nikolai

  It seems all werewolves are searching for something.

  * * *

  The Alpha awoke suddenly. Fevered dreams had haunted his sleep, plagued by visions of the lesser werewolves that had come before. Strange energy hummed through his body. The becoming was complete.

  He’d taken refuge inside Shaft Six. The witch had buried her two diggers at the entrance to guard as he’d slept, vulnerable. Lucinda was upstairs, resting next to a propane heater. His senses could pick her up easily through several floors. The prisoner he’d had Lucinda’s minions gather was secured in another room to be dealt with later. A few members of his pack had returned to the relative safety of the mine building to lick their wounds. Two were sleeping on the ground nearby, having returned to human form, recuperating from multiple gunshot wounds.

  The amulet of Koschei rested on his chest, burning with the heat of Earl Harbinger’s werewolf spirit. Taking it in his hands, the Alpha could feel the spirit inside stir. It was powering him, giving him greater vitality and strength, just as the first of their kind had robbed the mighty forerunner to become so much more than human.

  Since the time of his ascension was at hand, it was time to raise the vulkodlak. The whole thing was very exciting. They would be an unstoppable wave, crashing across the Earth. Koschei had been too frightened to set them free, but he had been a fool, an immortal with no ambition, which made for a remarkably sad creature. The Alpha, on the other hand, was a man of vision.

  It was simple, really. The vulkodlak would spread like wildfire. This isolated town was just a practice run. The humans would probably be able to contain this first wave, but the Alpha had been planning for this moment for a long time.

  The MCB would try to contain them in silence at first, but it would be too much. The vulkodlak reproduced far too rapidly. The Alpha knew exactly how the MCB would respond, because he had studied their doctrine. Copper Lake would be cut off from the world and burned clean. This place was just a test, and a deserving one at that, since it had unwittingly sheltered the man, Aksel Kerkonen, who’d dared to steal the birthright of an immortal.

  The hiding place of the amulet was sparsely populated and about as isolated as anything in the continental United States could be. It seemed a waste to unleash the vulkodlak here. Copper Lake, the tiny community where he’d lived off and on for the last year while searching for the amulet, was just to get the bugs worked out without the MCB leadership getting too nervous. They’d cover it up and assume it was some sort of isolated event. Similar things had happened before and would probably happen again. It would be just another monster-related tragedy in a long list. By the time they figured out what had happened, he’d be ready to launch the second wave.

  The big show would come later. He’d analyze the results of tonight’s mission and adjust accordingly. There was a steep learning curve involved whenever ancient magic was utilized. He knew this, but he liked to dream big. The next wave would be far more impressive. He had children staged in huge, densely packed cities all across the country. He’d run the simulations himself using MCB-designed software. If everything worked as predicted, eighty percent of the population of Chicago would be overrun in eight hours. New York in six.

  Humanity would not last under that onslaught. They were an evolutionary dead end. The select would become werewolves. Those that fought would be harvested for the vulkodlak. The remainder would be kept as prey. He reasoned that entire regions would become game preserves. The Alpha was going to hit the reset button for the world.

  Harbinger’s life was more than strong enough to raise the local vulkodlak, but the Alpha didn’t want to squander such a spirit just yet. The amulet had been created with dark magic to enslave and bind the spirits of monsters. He understood that now. It burned life as fuel. Every use drained it. It would need constant replenishment: the stronger the werewolf, the better. If he’d realized that before, he never would have let Harbinger kill Petrov. He would have harvested both of them instead. He hated being wasteful.

  There were others that he could use instead. They were his pack, but most of them were expendable.

  Strange, the Alpha thought to himself as he selected his victims. He’d loved his pack once, but their lives no longer mattered. Only an hour ago, these had been his beloved children, but now they were just more fuel. The two here would suffice. For some reason, he could no longer remember their names.

  He raised his voice and shouted for Lucinda. The entire shaft shook. He would need the witch’s help for the awakening. The thunderous noise startled the other werewolves awake. Frightened, they tried to creep away, but he coaxed them back with a gentle word, using the full power of his voice, and they meekly returned. He reached out and took a female by the neck.

  The harvest had begun.

  Nikolai took a seat on the leather couch at the far end of the Alpha’s living room. He seemed rational now, but Earl wasn’t taking any chances. The Hunter stood at the far end of the room, his Thompson shouldered and trained on the Russian. The safety was off, and Earl’s finger was already inside the trigger guard. At the slightest movement, Earl would hose him down.

  The giant skeleton sat there, watching from the shadows. Heather had given her grandfather’s jour
nal to Aino to try and to decipher, and the miner had gone back to the relative safety of the convoy to read. Earl had asked Heather to explore the rest of the house to search for anything interesting. She was not a trained Hunter, and probably wouldn’t know what to look for, but Earl had wanted to question Nikolai alone. Earl planned on killing Nikolai as soon as they were done talking. Witnesses seemed to cheapen that. Though evil, Nikolai was a warrior and deserved at least some dignity in death.

  “I always suspected you would be the one that finally killed me,” Nikolai began.

  “I had that thought about you a few times myself,” Earl answered. “I can’t say I ever imagined you’d just up and commit suicide, though.”

  “I died the day I found Lila dead. The weeks since have been nothing but a bad dream.”

  “I didn’t do that,” Earl stated. “I give you my word.”

  “I know that now. Tvar has relented. I can see clearly again.” Nikolai shook his head. “They must have had something of yours and used it to spread your scent at the scene. I should have seen right through the ruse, but he capitalized on my anger, confused me so that I would let him run free. . . . I don’t know how you do it. . . . How do you keep yours chained so well? He is so demanding. Always interrupting, only letting me think when it suits his purposes.”

  It was the first time the two of them had actually had a conversation, and Earl was mildly surprised to discover that he didn’t understand his old nemesis nearly as well as he’d thought. “That’s not really how it works for me.”

  Nikolai’s werewolf side had broken off and become a separate personality. Earl’s was, or had been, just a shadow in his mind, jumbled urges and anger. He shuddered at the thought of it actually talking. If anything, Earl’s inner werewolf had been the strong, silent type.

  “Lucky you,” Nikolai said. “I’d contained it. The longer I was strong, the quieter it became, until finally it was silent except for when the moon was full. Someone helped me find peace, but when I lost her, it came rushing back to fill the void. . . . But enough about that, comrade. Will you accept my service?”

  “I’ve not come to a conclusion on that point just yet,” Earl lied.

  Nikolai knew the truth. “I understand. Do what you will, but just know this: until you pull that trigger, I am your man. I have sworn my loyalty to you. The Tvar was winning. I could not allow that. It must obey the instincts, and the instincts demand that the superior werewolf leads. It will follow.”

  “My distinct lack of werewolfhood might cause a bit of an issue there, when he decides to come out and eat me and all.”

  “You have my word that I’ll deal with that should it arise.”

  “You were a KGB assassin. Forgive me if I don’t get warm fuzzies about your personal integrity.”

  Nikolai smirked. “Believe what you will. I will answer your questions to the best of my ability until my time comes. The Tvar is confounded for now. All I ask is that you avenge Lila. The one who bears the amulet of Koschei must be stopped at all costs.”

  “Who is it that has the amulet?”

  “I’d thought it was you, of course. I do not know his identity, but he must have been remarkably strong to even wield it. It doesn’t matter now, though.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “The amulet will have changed him by now. Whoever he was before will have been erased. It is a powerful artifact.”

  Earl was getting tired of holding up the Thompson. Being a werewolf, he’d forgotten how darn heavy these things were, having been made back in the good old days when everything was made of solid wood and machined steel. “Tell me about it.”

  “Do you know of Koschei?” Nikolai asked. When Earl shook his head in the negative, Nikolai continued. “He was my mentor. The oldest of all werewolves. He’d pledged his loyalty to Lenin, and Stalin after that, though neither realized just how old he really was. They believed him to be just a mere werewolf, willing to serve in exchange for legitimacy and protection, which sounds a bit familiar. . . .”

  Earl didn’t let the jab upset him. “Man’s gotta eat.”

  Nikolai continued. “Since Koschei wore the amulet, he was virtually immortal. He kept a low profile, doing their bidding but never rocking the boat. Before the Soviet Union, he had served the tsars, and before that the Rus. Before that, who knows? He was a follower, not a leader. Koschei was a figure of myth. They called him the Deathless, yet he rarely indulged in using the amulet’s powers. I believe he was afraid of it. I had become like a son to him before he even revealed it to me. Not even he knew where it had come from, only that it was old, and that it granted terrible powers.”

  Earl nodded toward the skeleton. “This fancy amulet look like that thing’s hand by chance?”

  A moment passed as Nikolai silently studied the three-fingered claw. “In fact, yes. Though I do not know what this creature was, it calls to me. Can’t you hear its song? No, of course not, I forget, your Tvar has been silenced. Believe me, Harbinger, these bones are special. This is a shrine.”

  “You mentioned terrible powers. What’re we talking about here?”

  “The amulet feeds on the life energy of werewolves and bestows it on the bearer. Koschei only used it sparingly to keep from aging. For someone who was supposedly a loyal Communist, he had an inordinate fear of the afterlife. However, near indestructibility is not the ability that worries me. Have you heard of vulkodlak?”

  The prisoner in the county jail had spoken of them before Earl had put him out of his misery. “Only in passing.”

  “I first heard it from one of Stalin’s Romanian necromancers. When Koschei learned that the Motherland was experimenting in such things, he became distressed. I suspect that he even sabotaged the project. Well, perhaps sabotage is the incorrect word, since the outright murder of several necromancers is a bit stronger than sabotage. Koschei had lived for seven centuries, and nothing caused him greater worry than the idea of the vulkodlak. I do not know the specifics of such beings, only that they are related to werewolves and death magic, and that they struck fear into the heart of an unstoppable man.”

  “Well, I’m guessing somebody stopped him, otherwise his fancy necklace wouldn’t have ended up in Michigan.” Earl finally gave up and sat on the carpet, leaning his sore back against the wall. He was careful to keep the subgun on Nikolai the entire time. “Do you know how he went down?”

  “I was not there. Stalin sent him to fight in the Winter War. Koschei was lost in battle. Intelligence discovered who had been given credit for the kill, a young rifleman named Kerkonen. The amulet was never recovered, but since I was the only one aware of the amulet’s significance, I did not pursue it.”

  “Why not?” Earl asked. “Something like that could have been mighty handy for you Commie bastards.”

  Nikolai’s smile was unnerving. “If you knew my Tvar, you would understand. He could never be allowed such a toy. It was for the best, for all of us.”

  This confirmed what Earl had already learned. Heather’s grandfather had somehow defeated an immortal werewolf and then brought its magic talisman to America. Why hadn’t he just destroyed the damn thing? Why come here at all? Had he realized what he had? The rough pictures in the journal indicated that he had at least some idea of its significance.

  “Who else knew about the amulet?” Earl wondered aloud. “It’s no coincidence that a powerful werewolf who just happened to have the bones of the great-granddaddy of all werewolves moved into this house in the town where the amulet was hidden.”

  “Perhaps it was fate?” Nikolai suggested.

  “Me and fate don’t get along, and coincidence ain’t exactly my friend, either.” Earl kept his right hand on the Thompson’s grip as he fished a cigarette out of his coat with his left. “Want a smoke?”

  “Do I get a blindfold, too?”

  Earl chuckled. “Like you’d want one. Don’t worry, you’ll see it coming. That’s only fair. . . .” Earl lit up and took a long draw. He blew out a cloud. Hopef
ully the Alpha didn’t smoke and Earl was at least stinking up his fancy living room. “So, how do I kill this asshole?”

  “I do not know, but I would like to help. It helps when I have a purpose. If you order me to help, Tvar will have no choice but to obey.”

  “Nikolai, I’m afraid you’re broken inside, and I don’t trust you at all. I’m trying real hard to decide what to do with you right about now. I don’t suspect you’ll like what I’ve come up with.”

  “I can be of assistance.”

  “I’m sure you could. . . . One question?” Earl took another puff, savoring the smoke. He was going to miss those regenerating lungs. “How many innocent people have you killed? Not in total, because we both know it would take all night to make that list. How many have died just since you’ve gone on your latest rampage?”

  Nikolai looked down at his hands. “Too many.”

  “One is too many, comrade.”

  There was a polite cough as Heather came down the stairs. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

  “Nothing of significance. Just my trial,” Nikolai said, taking his eyes off Earl for a moment. “My, my, Deputy, aren’t you the lovely specimen. The curse suits some of us more than others. I bet you feel simply wonderful right now. You’re quite the butterfly compared to the little caterpillar I met this afternoon.”

  “Stuff it, weirdo.” Heather walked as far around Nikolai as possible. “The place is mostly bare, Harbinger. Everything is neat as can be. Clothes are clean and folded. No ID, no papers, no personal effects, no decoration, nada. There’s a Mac on the kitchen table. We can plug it in at the school and see if there’s anything useful on it.” She held out something to Earl. “This is the only thing out of place in the whole house, other than Mr. Bony, obviously. It was in the dresser drawer next to the bed.”