Monster Hunter Vendetta

  "Shut up already," Franks said as he walked forward. Tendrils of blackness shot from Hood's hands, lashing into the Fed, knocking him easily aside. The ground swelled under Hood, like a rising bubble. The dirt ripped wide open, revealing a giant rolling slug of tar. Packets of reflecting eyes glared in every direction. The shoggoth had returned.

  "Owen! Get the ward to Milo. He knows what to do!" Earl shouted as he ducked and dodged under waves of black energy. "Go!"

  I did as I was told and ran for the workshop. It was our only hope. No matter how tough Earl and Franks were, I knew they couldn't defeat Hood and his minions. The roars and crashing intensified behind me. Gunfire and explosions continued to rock the main building as the bulk of the undead kept up their assault. I sprinted through the artificial wall of darkness, holding my breath like it was a poisonous vapor. I cleared the wall within a few steps, and there was the workshop. I leapt over numerous undead that had been blasted or scorched into pieces. "Milo! I need your help!"

  Milo's head popped up on the roof from behind a stack of discarded LAW rocket tubes. "Owen, what's going on?" he shouted.

  I reached into the satchel that was bouncing against my side and hoisted the stone above my head as I ran. "Activate this thing!"

  "I'm on my way down," Milo exclaimed.

  I started to lower the stone, but it disappeared from my hand in a blast of wind. The stone was gone! Jerking my head up in surprise, I was shocked to see one of the flying undead, the stone encircled in its talons, as it beat its mighty wings and gained altitude. I screamed in frustration.

  BOOM!

  The creature's leg exploded with a terrible impact. The entire talon fell, severed, still clutching the ball. Running, I caught it all in my outstretched hands. I looked up to see Grant on the rooftop, his head poking up from behind the scope of a Barrett M82A1 .50 caliber. "Move your slow ass, Pitt!" he shouted.

  The roll-up garage door was closed. The man-door next to it flew open, and Milo was there, holding a giant flamethrower that had the burninator and a cartoon dragon painted on it. "Let me see it," he cried as he shrugged out of the flamethrower straps.

  BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

  Grant had opened fire on something. I turned to see the zombie elephant come swirling through the black wall like an undead freight train, lumbering right at the workshop. I slammed the ball, severed talon and all, into Milo's outstretched arms, and pushed through the door. I closed it behind me and, for some unknown reason, threw the dead bolt. Milo gave me a look that indicated the idiocy of what I had just done, then he snapped out of it, and started swiping his hands over the numbers.

  "Hurry," I suggested.

  "You think?" he responded, beady eyes intent behind his glasses. "Oh, it's been a long time."

  I began looking for something that could stop a zombie elephant. There had to be something. I paused in front of Milo's giant wall of weapons. What gun for armored zombie elephant? Man, what kind of messed-up job do you have to ask yourself that kind of question? Then I had my answer, sitting right in front of me on a giant wheeled tripod. I grabbed the handles of the device and began to push the heavy weight across the linoleum. "Is this loaded?"

  "Of course," he responded absently. Milo stood in the center of the room, studying the ward intently. "The ward is like a puzzle, but with coordinates based on ley lines, and the letters are substitutes, but the hard part is that it's in German . . . ​Now what was that—"

  The roll-up door collapsed as the pachyderm from Hades rammed its way through. Milo looked up in time to see the looming threat bearing down on him, 15,000 pounds of undead fury. I cranked the mighty harpoon gun toward the beast, grabbed the trigger, every bit of the circular sight filled with gray rotting flesh, and pulled.

  Leviathan discharged. The concussion of the harpoon gun actually lifted me off the floor. Driven by a mighty charge of gunpowder, the six-foot, machined-steel spear drove right through the armored bucket of the monster's head, a roll of cable unspooling through its entire body and out its backside. The beast jerked as the harpoon embedded itself in a steel support pylon. The huge weight dropped instantly, cable pulling right through the decaying flesh, and it fell to the side, taking down row after row of shelves in a mighty crash.

  I picked myself up from the floor. The room was filled with smoke from the gun's charge. I coughed. "Milo?"

  No response.

  The elephant's head had been torn off, rotting neck no match for gravity, and was dangling like a piñata on the taut cable. The body was on its side, limp, storage shelves crushed beneath it. Right where Milo had been standing—

  He was under it! I ran over to the monster, trying to figure out some way to get under the body. If he was between the metal shelves, he might still be alive. There was no way I could reach him. I needed something to pry up an edge of meat. "Hang on, buddy! I'm coming for you." I spotted a crowbar, and started to work it under one leg.

  Then I heard a strange noise, muffled beneath the corpse. Like somebody was trying to start a lawnmower, or a weed whacker, or . . . ​

  A chainsaw.

  I automatically stepped back as the powerful device caught with a roar. There was a terrible racket as Milo attacked the elephant from underneath. Thirty seconds later the chainsaw erupted out the elephant's flank, spraying fluids, and a disgustingly coated Milo came crawling out from the stomach. He took a mighty gasp of air as his head pushed through the skin. He killed the chainsaw and tossed it. I grabbed him by the hand and tried to pull. Milo pushed me back, reached deep inside the guts, and pulled out the ward stone.

  "You okay?"

  "Shush!" he sputtered through a face full of rotting elephant blubber. His fingers flew across the stone. There was movement at the torn-open door. I glanced over to see more undead coming. A winged beast landed right in the entrance, hopping forward on its one remaining leg. This was it.

  "Bingo."

  Milo moved the last letter into place. A visible shockwave traveled outward from the stone. The air bent in a violent oval. It washed across my body, but I felt nothing. The wave hit the undead and they simply exploded, flesh parting, bones and sinews flying like shrapnel. The wave expanded outward, surging across the compound, a tsunami of destruction, obliterating undead on impact.

  There was a terrible wail, a scorching-evil distorted cry, like when we hit the shoggoth with thermite, only far worse. The shoggoth fled before the wave, screaming in pain the entire way.

  That left just one thing . . . ​

  Milo tumbled out of the elephant, sliding in a pile of squishy entrails. "Ew . . . ​this is karmic payback for making Newbies do the Gut Crawl, that's what this is."

  I picked up the discarded flamethrower, hoisting the heavy pack onto my back. A thick tube led from the pressurized napalm pack to the heavy-duty nozzle gun labeled the burninator. Its operation seemed pretty self-explanatory. I snagged a portable spotlight with my other hand and headed for the exit. "Grab anything that makes light and follow me."

  The star shells were slinking across the sky. The noise of the battle was tapering off, gunfire and explosions ceasing as the undead on the outer edge of the ward's area of effect were driven off and their cultist handlers retreated. The wall of artificial darkness was still standing and I ran straight through it, heedless of danger. I tripped over a dismembered zombie and fell, sprawling over more bodies. Struggling upright with the heavy flamethrower in one hand, I turned on the brilliant spotlight and shined it outward.

  Franks was on his hands and knees directly before me, lacerated, torn, holding one hand to his abdomen. He was coughing blood. It shone red and frothy in the light. I shouted at him as I approached. He looked up, unable to speak, but pointed. I followed his finger with the beam of light. There was a mighty thing there in the shadows, two hulking hands clamped down on a seemingly tiny object. The thing was bent over, like it was devouring whatever it was holding. When the light struck, the giant shape was replaced with Hood's normal form. He was holding Ea
rl's head in his hands. When Hood lifted his hand to shield his eyes, Earl fell over, limp.

  I set the spotlight on the ground, still covering Hood, and hoisted the flamethrower. He had to step away from Earl before I could use the deadly Milo-designed weapon. "Come and get me, Hood! Bring it!"

  He stepped away from Earl and walked toward me, using the sleeve of his robe to protect his sensitive eyes from the light. "You're a brave man, Pitt." He swung his hand downward and the spotlight exploded into shards of glass and plastic. His body was instantly replaced with the towering solid shadow. "It's over, though. Your protectors are finished."

  He drew nearer, but I hesitated, I couldn't risk immolating Earl. Werewolves couldn't regenerate from fire. "What'd you do to him?" I demanded.

  For the first time I thought I could make out facial features on the shadow blob's head. Hood was smiling. "I'm assuming since you spoke to Carlos, you met the little imp I put in his head? Well, the thing that I just set loose in Earl's mind is much, much worse. Serves him right." Franks surged to his feet, charging past me with a roar. Hood swatted him down, brutally hard. "And as for you . . ." Franks hit the ground, and the shadow man paused long enough to kick him in the ribs, launching him across the clearing. "I have dominion over everything without a soul. I don't know how you're managing to resist my commands, but I'm going to drag you home and dissect you until I figure it out."

  Unable to wait any longer, I pulled the Burninator's dual triggers. The first one ignited a pilot light while the second opened a valve of pressurized napalm. A wave of intense heat washed over me, singeing the hair from my arms. The fire lanced out in a fifty-foot beam, exploding right into the hulking shade.

  Hood howled in rage, the shadow shape shrinking into a human form in the firelight. He extended both hands, palms open toward me. The fire seemed to wash over him, around him, but didn't burn him to a crisp. He grimaced as black energy crackled from his squid amulet, down his arms, and out his hands. The energy collided with the fire, pushing it back. Sparkling bits of napalm fountained into the air, hissing and burning as they fell to earth.

  I kept the triggers mashed down, but I could see the wall of flame being pushed back toward me. The heat rose. The moisture was torn from my skin. I gritted my teeth as it began to cook my flesh and burn my clothing. Milo's flamethrower was no match for Hood's magic. The heat was unbearable. I couldn't breathe. The black magic was pushing the fires ever closer, and finally with a scream of heat-exhausted frustration, I was forced to release the twin triggers. I collapsed to my knees. The shadow shape loomed overhead.

  Then the world exploded in light and eye-searing agony and an ear-rending screech. Hood screamed with real pain. I was instantly blinded. It was like somebody had driven ice picks through my eye sockets. It was so bright that it threatened to overload my brain. "Owen, get down," Milo ordered. I was too stunned to comply. Hands hit my back and shoved, slamming my face into the cooler dirt. "Secret weapon time!" Milo shouted. I covered my head as the intense flashing barrage continued.

  Thirty seconds later, the terrible noise stopped. I looked up, but all I could see were flashing lights and purple spots. Then some rectangular shape was looking down at me. It was a blank, faceless monster. Milo flipped back the welding mask and grabbed me by the arm. "Let's go!"

  I could barely see. Hood was still shouting, the light having actually seared his shadow flesh. There were other sounds now, a chopper overhead, surely using a spotlight, and the voices of approaching Hunters.

  The purple blotch that must have been Hood was moving, staggering about. "It's not over, Pitt!"

  "You lose, Hood!" I bellowed.

  "But even in defeat, my servants have secured your fate. I'll see you soon." There was a scrambling noise that ended in a pop as he used one of the magic portal ropes, and then he was gone.

  I collapsed to my knees. "What's going on?"

  Milo yelled in my ear. "My secret weapon!"

  "I'm blind, not deaf, damn it."

  "Sorry. I just made the world's biggest flash-bang. That was a whole bunch of magnesium and aluminum powder there! I didn't know if I had the mixture right either, but we didn't all blow up, so I guess I did. Come on." He helped me up. Stumbling, led by Milo's elephant-blood-covered hand, he led me away from the noise. He found a clear spot, and had me sit.

  I could barely see my hands. "What's going on?"

  It took him a moment. "Hunters are securing the area. The crazy shadow dude is gone. All the undead are blown up. Fed choppers overhead."

  "Where's Earl?" I asked. Milo hesitated. "Milo? Where's Earl?"

  "They're working on him, but . . . ​he's not moving."

  I was still blind. "Take me to him!"

  "You're not a medic. Let them do their thing," he said calmly. I reached out and grabbed his wrist, hard. "Ouch!"

  "No time to explain. Get me over there quick, or he's going to die."

  Milo might not have understood, but Hunters were flexible under pressure. He pulled me back the way we had come. I was starting to see shapes and color further away. There were a group of Hunters clustered over a still form.

  "He's not responding," someone said. "Physical wounds are regenerating, but something's wrong. Temperature's dropping rapidly."

  "Let me through," I said. "I can help."

  "Z, what're you doing out here?" It was Holly. She sounded shocked to see me. "What happened to—"

  I cut her off. "No time. This is like what happened to Carlos." Milo guided me closer. I knelt at Earl's side.

  Holly understood. "Everybody step back," she ordered.

  "What're you talking about?" a purple shape that sounded like Cooper asked.

  "Z knows what he's doing," Holly said tersely. "You Newbies get ready in case something bad comes crawling out of Earl's head. And come with me, Coop, we've got a rat to catch."

  I had no idea what she was talking about. I touched Earl's chest. His breathing was almost undetectable and he was utterly cold to the touch. Blood drizzled down my lacerated face and onto my open hand.

  I have to save him.

  Having no real clue what I was doing, I concentrated, trying to remember what I had felt before when I had activated the power. I could sense it. I could feel the alien presence. Hood had called it an imp, a demon. Whatever the hell it was, I had to figure out how to evict it, and fast.

  The world blinked out of existence.

  Chapter 17

  My eyes no longer hurt. I couldn't feel the aches, injuries, or fatigue. I was standing on bright white sand while powerful waves crashed ashore at my feet. A brilliant blue ocean stretched for what seemed like forever. It was gorgeous, a veritable tropical paradise. For whatever reason, it really wasn't what I had pictured the inside of Harbinger's head to be like.

  "What's going on?" Earl asked from behind me. I turned. He was standing there, looking pained and confused. Behind him was a black rock cliff, and atop it was a rough shack of some kind. "Marty knocked me out and now I'm here."

  "We're inside your memories," I responded. "Hood put a demon inside your brain to devour them. We have to stop it before it kills you."

  He didn't seem surprised, as if my explanation made perfect sense, flexible minds, and all that. "Did you get the ward activated?"

  "Milo did, but why isn't it chasing this thing off?" I asked.

  "Maybe it's safe as long as it's in somebody's head?" Earl shrugged. "You got any idea what you're doing?"

  "No. The last time I did this, the monster killed the host, then animated the body and tried to eat Doctor Nelson. But if we attack it before you get too weak, we might be able to throw it out and step on it."

  "Well, that sounds like a hell of a plan," Earl replied sarcastically. "Remember when I told you not to screw around with this Old Ones' magic bullshit?" I nodded. "Belay that order. Let's go kill this little fucker." He suddenly grimaced, raising his hands to his temple. "Oh damn. That hurts."

  I looked around for a giant earwig. "Where
is it? Show me."

  "Near," Earl said through gritted teeth, glancing from side to side. "I know this place. It's attacking where I'm most vulnerable."

  Obnoxious seagulls were wheeling overhead. "Where are we?"

  "This island is where I learned to finally control the beast. This was my exile."

  "Nice exile," I exclaimed.

  "It wasn't my first choice," he muttered, swaying a little, as he put his face in his hands. "I can feel it . . . ​in my head . . ." The sky was darkening rapidly. I could no longer tell where the horizon ended, as it all turned to an ugly shade of purple, like a spreading bruise. Earl cried out and went to his knees. I moved to his side to help. He gasped and shoved me away. "No. This was where I became a man again . . . ​I came here, where there was no one to hurt. I can't let him have this."

  Werewolves were normally borderline psychotics. Earl was an exception. He exercised unbelievable mental control over his state and had done so for the better part of a century. If you were an evil force intent on destroying his mind, you would go right for where he had learned that control. With that iron will broken, the demon would be sure to win.

  "It's here," Earl growled.

  A purple dome appeared, rising over the horizon, dwarfing the cliffs, the shack, then the sky, and finally the entire world. "You've got to be kidding." It was far bigger than Feeder had been. It made the other creature look like a pathetic bug by comparison. A single giant eye opened in the center of the dome. It blinked once, the lid slamming back and forth with a concussion like a hundred sonic booms. A shockwave traveled down the beach. The seagulls exploded.

  The unspeakable entity of the Old Ones, summoned by Hood, and dumped into Earl Harbinger's skull to devour his mind addressed us solemnly. Greetings. I am Rok'hasna'wrath, reaper of souls, devourer of worlds.