Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1

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Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1 Page 12

by David J. Phifer


  I chased my sandwich with the energy drink. Tossed a few kernels of popcorn in my mouth. I loved buttered popcorn.

  The severed head in the vault started moaning. When the head starts moaning like that, the regeneration is in full force. Technically, it doesn’t even have a voicebox. Yet it groans in ghostly agony.

  It’s pretty damn creepy.

  I swallowed a handful of popcorn, enjoying the show. “I want you to meet Arnold,” I said. “I call him that because he’s one big, tough son of a bitch. You probably won’t like him.”

  “Get me out of here, man,” Augie wailed. He banged on the vault door. “I don’t have a weapon. I’m useless.”

  “That’s the point. You can’t always rely on weapons as your power. True power comes from inside, not from without.”

  “You’re not Master-fucking-Yoda either.” He looked back at Arnold’s head. “Oh, my God. I see fingers coming out of the stump. Bloody goddamn fingers—”

  “Yep,” I said. “That’s usually how it starts.”

  “That thing is gonna kill me…”

  “How do you know it’s even real?” I asked.

  “What?!”

  “Dude, it’s totally fake,” I said in my best Augie impression. “Just a guy in a costume. You can even see the seems.”

  “Man, fuck you.” He frantically kicked the door. “I need a weapon.”

  “As a hunter, you have to use your surroundings. Being resourceful is the most important skill you have.”

  “How can I be resourceful when there’s nothing in the room to be resourceful with?”

  “What do you see around you?”

  “Nothing,” he said, flailing his arms around the room. “There’s nothing here. There’s only a table and walls. What do you want me to do? Throw the microwave at him?” He scoured the cabinets and cupboards. Unfortunately, they didn’t hold any weapons. Only napkins and plastic silverware.

  “Use your abilities,” I said.

  From Arnold’s severed head, the bloody hand pulled itself from the wet flesh. Its fingers wiggled free and squirmed away from the stump, forming an arm. A second set of fingers twisted free as well. Within seconds, two hands and arms freed themselves from the stump, pulling more parts of the body with it as Arnold wailed in torment.

  “How can I use my abilities when there’s no weapon to use them on?” Augie asked. He watched Arnold and shook his head. “Are you seeing this? I’m going to die.”

  “Do you really think we would have a bunker if we didn’t have weapons hidden inside?”

  He slammed the last cupboard. “They’re definitely not in here.”

  “Are you a psychic or not?”

  He started touching the cupboards. Then the microwave. Then the mini fridge underneath it. “I’m not getting anything,” he said.

  “Getting warmer,” I said, biting into the second half of my sandwich. Grape jelly is phenomenal.

  Arnold’s legs were growing back. His torso soon followed. I sure hoped Augie figured it out. I wouldn’t want to clean up the mess.

  “You can’t leave me in here with that thing,” Augie said, screaming his head off.

  “When I was six years old, my father threw me in the deep end of the pool to teach me how to swim.”

  “How is that even remotely like this?”

  “I had no idea what to do. And he was drunk. He passed out on the deck. He wasn’t even there to save me if I drowned. It was sink or swim.”

  Augie felt along the wall. “Let me guess. Because you were forced to, you swam to the edge to safety?”

  “No. I almost drowned. If my mother hadn’t seen me and jumped in, I would have died.”

  “Is there a lesson here or do you just like hearing yourself talk?”

  “It’s sink or swim. Trial by fire.”

  “I know, do or die. I think I’m closer to the dying part right now.”

  “It’s time to sink or swim, August McKenzie. Your mother coddled you your whole life, trying to keep you safe. It made you weak. Afraid of the world. Welcome to your new world, my friend. Call it tough love.”

  “Ivy, you dickhead mother fucker,” he said. “Help me!” Arnold stopped groaning. That’s the part you have to worry about the most. When they stop groaning, it means the regeneration is done. Arnold stood and looked around the room, getting acquainted to his surroundings. He never met Augie before, but he could see he was human. Which meant Augie was his enemy. “Ivy, I am going to kill you,” Augie said. “If I don’t die first.”

  I took a chug of my energy drink. “In order to win, you have to be willing to sacrifice everything. Let’s call that rule number six.”

  The room was full of Ore, which meant Arnold couldn’t teleport out. Augie was trapped with him. Until one of them was dead.

  Arnold charged him and grabbed his throat. He raised Augie in the air and rammed him against the wall, squeezing his throat.

  I spoke into the intercom. “How are you liking your picnic?” I knew it was a dickish thing to say, but I couldn’t help myself. At the very least, I figured my taunting had to be better than hearing me chew my lunch into the intercom. I imagined it had to be annoying to hear me biting into a handful of popcorn when you’re getting pummeled by a naked immortal monster trying to take your head off.

  Arnold continued to crush Augie’s throat. As if he knew where it was, Augie double-tapped a space on the wall. A panel opened up to reveal a stun gun. Arnold pulled him back and slammed him against the wall again. Augie coughed, trying to catch his breath. He stretched his hand out and grabbed the stun gun. He jammed it in Arnold’s neck.

  Thirty thousand volts spiked through Arnold’s body.

  The beast dropped him and fell backwards. Arnold’s skull collided with the table on his way down. Augie fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

  He pounded a new section of the wall. Another panel opened, revealing a shotgun. With both hands, he grabbed it. Arnold came from behind and threw him in a bear hug. Augie wasn’t able to position the shotgun enough to use it.

  Trapped under the man’s arms, Augie ran up the side of the wall and flipped over Arnold. I saw that move done before by a friend named Anya. That was her shotgun.

  Augie used it like a battering ram, driving the butt of the gun into Arnold’s nose. He pounded him again. And again. Arnold must have been swallowing teeth by now. On the fifth time, Arnold choked on a mouthful of teeth and blood.

  Augie swung the gun around and pulled the trigger. Several bullets went into Arnold’s torso. But he didn’t even feel it. He dove at Augie, but the boy was too wiry and somersaulted out of the way. He fired into Arnold’s leg, taking him down to one knee. He tried to fire again, but the gun was empty.

  He wound it up like a baseball bat and clobbered Arnold hard.

  Dropping the shotgun, Augie touched the other wall and instantly knew where the latch was. He tapped it. The section opened. He reached in and pulled out a machete.

  Before Arnold got to his feet, his head was already rolling across the floor.

  August McKenzie was victorious.

  As I finished the last of my popcorn, I said, “I would put his head in the fridge if I were you. In the freezer, to be more precise.”

  Reluctantly, he grabbed Arnold’s hair and threw the head in the freezer. He dropped the blood-soaked machete. With death in his eyes, he stumbled to the vault door. “Let me the fuck out. Now.”

  I wiped the last of the crumbs from my hands and unlocked the vault door. I pulled it open and there was Augie, bloody but not broken. “Congratulations,” I said. “You learned to use adrenaline to trigger your power. Now you’re ready for any—”

  His fist barreled into my nose. I saw it coming. And maybe I deserved it. But if he was going to become the hunter he needed to be in order to save his mother, I couldn’t hold back his training. If he was going to be a hunter, he needed to experience hunting. And killing.

  He didn’t say a word as he shot past me and up the stair
s.

  I knew he didn’t understand what he just learned. Who he had become. He was resourceful. He used his power in ways he hadn’t before. And he learned to take a life without hesitating.

  He just became a monster hunter.

  He was finally ready to help me take down Poe.

  Chapter 20

  The Stakeout

  “Are you going to say anything or just sit there like a bump on a log?” I asked in the truck. The air was thick and warm. It made my eye twitch. The atmosphere may have looked quiet and calm, but it felt like danger. It put me on edge.

  “I’m not talking to you right now,” Augie said, turning away from me.

  “I know you’re pissed,” I said peering through the binoculars at the house across the street. “But get used to it. It won’t be the last time you get mad at me.” This house is the one Augie thought belonged to Blake. And it matched the address in Alan Dill’s phone.

  “You tried to kill me.”

  “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I would have stepped in if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

  “He practically tore my head off.”

  “Please,” I said. “Arnold was a pussycat.”

  “Whatever,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re an assface douche bag.”

  “I can agree to that.”

  “You almost killed me for nothing.”

  “Not for nothing,” I said. I tapped on my phone and pulled up a YouTube clip titled Augie McKenzie Party Fail. “See this guy?” The video played. In it, Augie was slobbering drunk at Blake’s party. He had his pants unbuttoned, flashing some women, while singing ‘I’m Too Sexy.’

  All captured on cell phone video. You got to love modern technology.

  “Aw, geez,” he said. “My junk is hanging out on live video? I didn’t know they were even filming. Those assholes.”

  “You don’t want to know what I found when I Googled you.”

  “What’s your fucking point?”

  “The guy in this video no longer exists. He was a moron. A waste to society. That kid is gone. You’re a different person now. You’re a man.”

  “Whatever,” he said, turning away. But I saw a slight grin. “Explain to me why we’re watching them across the street from your truck when we’re obviously out of place in this neighborhood? I don’t see too many trucks with campers on the back. We stick out like a sore thumb.”

  “Because the truck has all my stuff.” I stared at the two-story house. It was a bad part of town. It wasn’t a college town, but it looked like a frat house. I raised the binoculars and peered through each of the windows, expecting to see flashes of light or movement. There was neither.

  A shirtless man in gray sweatpants and headband jogged past the truck. He ran by seven minutes earlier too. This was obviously his morning jogging route.

  Augie fidgeted. “Aren’t we a little out in the open here?”

  “We’re in the shade.”

  “This camper truck is super ugly. It’s an eyesore. They’ll spot us a mile away.”

  “You’re thinking like a human,” I said. “Forevers rarely use vehicles. They teleport in and out of the house. The only way they would see us is if they came into the driveway to get in the car, which they don’t have. We’re fine.”

  That was a half truth. They could easily spot us from inside the house. But other than Blake, no one would recognize the truck. And quite frankly, I didn’t care if they did. If I told the kid we were bait to draw them out, he’d throw a hissy fit and freak out.

  The sky rumbled. Gray clouds billowed in from the north. The sky grew dark. That was never a good sign.

  “If you say so,” he said, obviously not thinking so. “Are we going in?”

  “Never go into a house,” I told him. “Unless you know what you’re getting into.”

  “Do you even know what this Poe guy looks like?”

  “No.”

  “You never met him?”

  “He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

  “Do we have a plan?”

  “Stop asking questions. It’s annoying.”

  “Whatever.” He stared down at the necklace I gave him. “What is this little jewel supposed to do again?”

  I lowered the binoculars to my lap and gave him the stink eye. “What did I just say about questions?”

  “Sorry. I have ADD. Or is it ADHD? I can’t remember.”

  “There’s no such thing. Now shut up.” As I lifted the binoculars up again, he licked the jewel. What an idiot. “It’s not rock candy. It’s Ore. Same stuff I sewed inside your gut. Only it prevents teleporting as well as draining.” I dug under my shirt and showed him my own. “Never take it off. Not even when you’re sleeping.” I tucked mine back in.

  “Then why did you have me stick another one in my back pocket?”

  “You need two,” I said. “In case the necklace falls off. Always have a backup. Or two.”

  “Is that another one of your ambiguous rules?”

  “Rule seven.”

  “Got it,” he said, fiddling with the necklace. “Keeping my soul is my number one priority.”

  “I don’t see any movement in the house. But I hear music.”

  “House Party Hits. Volume eight. Good tunes.”

  I got my laptop from under the seat, set it on my lap, and opened it. Once logged in, I went to my radar app. It was beeping.

  “What is that?” Augie asked.

  “When I stabbed Blake, I slipped a tracker on him while he was distracted.”

  “That’s what’s beeping?”

  I nodded. “It seems he’s here, but he’s not moving. The other tracker was moving earlier and brought me here.”

  “What other tracker?”

  “I slipped two trackers on him. One in his pocket. The second one inside his wound. It was a special one in that it was surrounded by a mineral that his body wouldn’t react to. He would have healed with the second tracker still inside him, never knowing it was there to begin with.”

  “Crap, dude. That’s so metal. How did you do all that when you stabbed him?”

  “I had nine seconds,” I said, smiling at him. “You can do almost anything in nine seconds.” I turned to the laptop and typed in the code for the second tracker. “You can save the world in nine seconds.”

  “It seemed like it was only a couple seconds to me,” he said.

  “Time is relative.”

  “It still seems so surreal.”

  After logging it in, the second tracker popped up on the display. It beeped. It said it was right here. Next to us. I reached for my Glock and checked the clip.

  Fully loaded.

  “He’s here,” I said. “He’s on top of the truck. Or under it.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Wait here while I check it out.”

  “Don’t leave me alone.”

  “I’ll be right outside the truck.” With one hand on the Glock, the other on the door handle, I planned to open it quietly and peer under the truck. I double-checked my left pocket to make sure there was no loose bullets. It was empty. I checked the other pocket. Something cold pressed against my fingertips. It wasn’t a bullet. I pulled it out. It was small. And familiar.

  It was the first tracker. “No.”

  We were set up.

  From the corner of my eye, I spied a black military van barreling down the side street at us. Before I could react, it rammed into my door. My window shattered as we slid across the street, over the fire hydrant, and onto the lawn.

  My Glock and laptop flew to the floor.

  I swung my eyes to the driver. A black man with a stoic expression. Pale blue eyes and a square jaw. He wasn’t a grunt. Or a follower. He was strong. A leader. The man in charge.

  Even though we never met, I knew it was him.

  Alexander Poe.

  Chapter 21

  Welcome to the Neighborhood

  “Get down,” I yelled after my truck got rammed by Poe’s black mi
litary van. Augie screamed like a little girl in the passenger seat. I pressed against my door but it was too damaged to open. I raised my Glock through the shattered window and fired.

  Poe teleported.

  The bullets hit his cohort in the passenger seat. I bent down to Augie’s position, handing him the demon knife. “Whatever you do, don’t let go of this. Keep this in your hand no matter what.” I slipped my butterfly knife into his back pocket. “This is back up. Channel it if you need to.”

  I put my shoulder into the door. It opened. I rolled out and onto the lawn, slamming the door shut.

  Before I turned around, someone was on me. I put three bullets in his stomach. He hunched over in pain. Before he got up, my knife went through his head, pinning him to the truck. I wrenched it out and he dropped. I shimmied to the front of my engine.

  Several goons poured from the back of the military van.

  No sign of Poe.

  I had four handguns and a shotgun. I was ready for a fight.

  I didn’t know how long it would take before the neighbors called the cops. If they hadn’t already due to the gunshots or the sound of the car accident.

  I fired at the three goons. Hit one in the shoulder. The other two came at me.

  Thing One and Thing Two.

  I shot Thing One’s kneecaps from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Thing Two wrenched the gun from my grip. I snatched his wrist, broke it, and kicked my heel into his knee.

  CRACK!

  His leg bent backwards. I drove my heel below his other knee, snapping his shinbone in two.

  He screamed and fell forward.

  I spun him around as he landed in a reverse headlock. With my arm around his neck, he faced upward to the sky. I tightened my grip and jerked up, snapping his neck.

  CRACK!

  His body fell at the wheel my truck. His head hit the bumper on the way down. Thing Three was coming at me. The Glock was out of bullets. I turned it around and drove the handle into his nose.

  Forevers may heal fast and regenerate, but they still feel pain. And if they can feel pain, they can be stopped by it.

  The problem is they always get back up. So I improvise. On my belt, I carried several steel vials of chemical cocktails. I pulled one out and popped off the cap. Dropped the syringe in my hand. The cocktail in this baby was torture. I stabbed it into his neck and drained the entire vial into him.

 

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