The Monster Hunters

  I noted with some concern that the clouds had turned green, a sick, deadly color.

  Other noises could be heard over the rain, thumping against the roof of the Suburban. Small round things were smacking wetly against the window.

  “Now, that’s different,” Gus said as the wipers knocked away the blood and meat on the windshield.

  “Dude, roll the window up!” I shouted.

  “Oh, gross!” Trip exclaimed as something hit him.

  It was raining frogs. Thousands of tiny amphibians were striking us, bouncing off of the hood or road. Some were falling faster than others, hitting hard enough to explode in little red puffs.

  “Isn’t this from like The Ten Commandments? Let’s get out of here before the plague of locusts shows up,” Lee suggested nervously.

  “Well, actually, it’s not an unknown phenomenon to have it rain frogs,” I said. “Tornadoes or water spouts can pick them up and drop them someplace else. Fish too.”

  “Not the time for trivia, Z,” Holly said.

  I bit my tongue. My attempt at explaining the phenomenon was rather lame. We all knew what this meant. This was the day. One of the frogs examined me through the glass before the wiper batted it aside, leaving only a red smear.

  * * *

  MHI assembled in the parking lot of a small grocery store. We were only a few miles from the caverns, and Harbinger did not want us to hit the site until the sun was fully up. Not that I thought it would do much good; the clouds and rain were thick enough that it might as well have been night.

  “How much light can a vampire stand?” I asked.

  “Very little can cause them pain. A direct hit and they catch on fire. And maybe we’ll get lucky and get a little sunshine,” Julie answered.

  “At least it quit raining frogs,” Sam grunted.

  A large contingent of us had assembled under the store awning, making last-minute preparations, asking questions, or just stretching our legs before the final fight. Some extremely curious locals had ventured out of their homes, trying to figure out what the large group of paramilitary-looking folks were doing in their small town. Considering the things that had happened over the last few days, we were not that weird in the grand scheme of things, but we still must have been a sight.

  Sam nudged me and pointed across the lot. A local teenager in a yellow rain slicker approached one of our parked vehicles, a three-quarter-ton pickup hooked to a gooseneck horse trailer. It belonged to our orc contingent. Overcome by curiosity, the kid peered over the side door, only to stumble backwards and fall into a mud puddle when something large slammed into the sheet metal and growled.

  “Hey, kid! It ain’t polite to poke your nose in other folks’ business. You trying to lose a hand?” Sam shouted.

  “What was that? Who are you guys?” the kid shouted, suddenly afraid.

  “It’s your momma. And we’re the circus. Now scram!” Sam let his duster jacket open to reveal his armor and .45-70.

  The kid pulled himself up and ran back toward his home, probably trying to figure out what exactly it was that he had seen in that horse trailer.

  “Sam! Quit scaring the children.”

  “Sorry, Julie,” Sam said as he grinned at me from under his mustache.

  “Boone? You got anything about who’s on guard?” Harbinger demanded.

  “This one was high priority. Word is at least a squad of actual Feds on the cavern. Local guardsmen blocking the road. They’ve been checking in on a regular basis, so they’re still alive,” he answered. “We’ve got authority to deal with local infestations, so the soldiers should let us through. The Feds, on the other hand . . .”

  “If they are on site, figure that they’ve been turned,” Julie said.

  “You mean I might get to stake a Fed?” Sam asked with far too much eagerness. “Oh, that would be fricking awesome.”

  “Easy there, big fella. Only if they’re dead,” Harbinger warned. “This is it, folks. Any questions?”

  The group was silent. Our radio channel was open so the Hunters still sitting in the running vehicles could hear. No one asked anything.

  “Fine then.” Harbinger cleared his throat before continuing. “Whatever happens, I want y’all to know that I’m proud. Most of you know how long I’ve been doing this, and you know I won’t lie. This is the finest group of Hunters MHI has ever assembled. I mean that. You know what to do. You’re the best of the best. I would take this crew against the gates of hell themselves if God would give us the contract. With these teams we could collect PUFF on the four horsemen of the apocalypse. It’s an honor to have led you into battle, the greatest honor I’ve ever had. Like the memorial wall says, Sic transit gloria mundi. We’re mortals, but the deeds we do are the stuff of legend, and your courage will live forever. Know that, and be sure. You’re the modern versions of Beowulf, of St. George, of Odysseus. You’re Van Helsing with firepower. You’re Jack and the Beanstalk with automatic weapons. We’re walking in the valley of the shadow of death, but we shall fear no evil! Because evil is about to get a stake put through its black heart because we are the baddest mother-fuckers to ever set foot in the valley!” he finished in a roar.

  A cheer rose from the Hunters. I pumped my fist into the air and shouted. All of the horns were honked. The wargs in the trailer began to howl. I was surprised that nobody started shooting into the air. That was probably just because they wanted to save ammunition.

  Harbinger paused, looking out into the rain. A malicious grin split his face. He finally continued. “Good hunting. Move out.”

  Chapter 26

  The lead Suburban braked before the National Guard checkpoint. An old M113 armored personnel carrier, basically a bulletproof box on treads, blocked the road. The soldiers had been driven under cover, sitting in their vehicles trying to stay out of the horrible rain, lashing wind, and scattered frog showers. They regarded us warily as our convoy approached. One of the soldiers manned the big .50 mounted on the armored personnel carrier and swiveled it in our general direction.

  Boone and Harbinger exited the lead vehicle and approached the soldiers, hands held wide, indicating that they were no danger. After the events of the last few days, the soldiers weren’t going to take any chances. I noted that having the APC parked in the center of the road was kind of redundant, since the storm had blown several large trees down, forming a very effective roadblock right behind their position. Some smart NCO had some of his men spread out into the trees.

  “Poor guys. Stuck out in this weather. What are they supposed to do if a tornado hits? Hide under that tank?” Trip asked.

  “It’s their job. They’re doing what they have to do,” Lee said. I felt his hands pull on the back of my seat as he tried to get a better view. “I hope they let us through.”

  The radio crackled, “Pitt. Come up here. Just you.”

  “Roger that,” I answered. “Be right back, guys.” I pulled my black raincoat tight and stepped out of the warm vehicle into the screaming rain. The coat was bulky and long enough that it hid Abomination. I wasn’t about to go anywhere this close to the Cursed One without my gun. I struggled to hold my hood down as the wind tried to tear it away. Branches tumbled across the road. It was raining sideways. I splashed down the road, past several other vans and SUVs, Hunters inside looking out at me from their relative comfort. I reached the roadblock.

  Boone was speaking with one of the Guard. They appeared to be arguing. “What’s going on?” I shouted to be heard over the wind.

  “Boone’s trying to bluster his way through. He just barely got out of the Guard himself and these are his people. They still won’t let us through without permission from the Feds stationed at the cavern itself, and they ain’t responding on the radio.”

  “Figure they’re dead?”

  “Something like that,” he answered. “Do you sense anything?”

  “I’m not psychic, Earl.”

  “Do me a favor and try,” he ordered. “You have a connection with
this thing. We need to exploit every advantage. It’s worth a shot.”

  I pulled my hood low, trying to block the rain. I closed my eyes. Balancing in the road as the wind rocked me, coat billowing, I listened. Cold moisture leaked around the openings of my protection and down my armor. How was I supposed to sense them? I concentrated, remembering how I felt at those times when I had viewed Lord Machado’s memories.

  Then I felt it. A growing presence. Darkness. Age. Power. Masters. I could feel the alien thoughts—the confidence in their strength and their combined ability to crush any number of humans. I could hear their voices, their communications, almost as if they were shouting;

  Fools. You have slept so long. You do not know the power of the Hunters’ modern weapons. Return and protect our Lord.

  We fear no human, Jaeger. I have seen their puny “cannon.”

  We shall crush them and feast. Calm thyself, young one.

  I was one of them. Y’all don’t know what you’re getting into. Things have changed since your day, you old bastards.

  Silence. I have no time for your cowardice. Hide in your cave, female, for we walk in the daytime. Now is our time to reign.

  Fine. Underestimate them and see what happens.

  As Trip was so fond of pointing out, pride comes before the fall. Most of the vampires ignored the admonitions of Jaeger and Susan warning them of the dire power of our modern weapons. These Masters had slept through the last few centuries, and they held no fear of man. They were coming up the road, heading right toward us, no subtlety, not even rushing, taking their time and savoring their assured victory. We only had a few minutes.

  I opened my eyes and the sensation vanished. Heck, maybe I was psychic.

  “Earl, we’ve got company coming.” I pointed down the road. “I think it’s the Masters. At least a few of them. But they don’t understand what they’re up against. They’re old and cocky.”

  “Okay. Better to fight them in the open than underground . . . Suckers.” He looked plaintively at the sky, but there was no sunlight to be seen. Harbinger approached Boone and tapped him on the shoulder. I drew closer so I could listen. The soldier on the .50 tracked me. “Excuse me!” Harbinger butted in. “Gentlemen, we’re about to be attacked.”

  “My name isn’t ‘Gentlemen,’ it’s Lieutenant McNab. And you need to back this convoy the hell up and turn around. This here is a secure area, and no civilians are allowed on this site. Move back or I’ll order my men to open fire.”

  “Lieutenant McNab, sir, we have authorization from the Federal Government to access this area. There’s an undead outbreak inside the cavern complex. It’s imperative that we get in there,” Boone said.

  “Undead? Like Dawn of the Dead, booga-booga zombies?” The lieutenant laughed. He was very young, and could not have been doing this for very long. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Back this convoy up now or I’m authorizing the use of force.” The nearby soldiers looked around nervously. An older soldier in a camouflage rain poncho stepped behind the lieutenant.

  “How much time?” Harbinger hissed at me.

  “Maybe a minute or two,” I responded.

  He shook his head slightly, and cracked his knuckles under the sleeves of his raincoat. “We’re gonna have to fall back and let the vampires slaughter these poor saps.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” the other soldier said. He tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder.

  “Yes, Sergeant?” the young man responded.

  “I know this man.” He nodded at Boone. “This is Sergeant Jay Boone. Nineteenth Special Forces. I worked with him in Afghanistan. He’s one of us.”

  “How’s it hanging, Gregorius?” Boone asked.

  “Pretty good. Did you get a medal for Kandahar?”

  “Yep, and a purple heart, and my medical discharge. Now I’m back to monster hunting.”

  “Sergeant, what is this nonsense?” shouted the lieutenant.

  “Sir, if this man says that we are about to come under attack, I believe him. We’d best let these folks through to do their job.”

  “I’m under orders, damn it!” he shouted. “Nobody goes through here unless the FBI says so, and they aren’t responding!”

  “They ain’t responding because they’re dead,” Harbinger answered. “Boone, Pitt, let’s fall back while these guys get killed. Good luck, Sergeant. Have your men save their last bullets for themselves.”

  “Wait,” said Gregorius, “Boone, you said undead. Like that thing we found buried in Bagram? The one that ate Chris?”

  “No, sorry, dude. Way worse. Master vampires. That thing we found was just a pussy ghoul.”

  “Dang. Hold on.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, deep in thought, before turning toward his men. “Defend against the park, enemy is incoming. Prepare to fire on my command.” The soldiers complied instantly to their seasoned NCO. Harbinger immediately clicked our radio twice. Doors opened and Hunters spread out, many sloshing across into the trees. Sunroofs were rolled back and belt-fed machine guns or MK19 grenade launchers were lifted into their mounting brackets. The armed Suburbans rolled forward, and pulled off to the sides, forming a front.

  “What are you doing? There’s no such thing as vampires.”

  “Shut up and grab your rifle, sir. If we live you can put me in for a court-martial. Boone, what should we do?”

  “What do you have?”

  “Two squads, the track here, and a 60 on one of the Humvees. But these guys are admin pogues. I’m lucky they gave us live ammo.”

  Harbinger stepped in. “Hold this center position. Control their fields of fire. We’ve got a lot more hardware than you. And with these things there ain’t no shame in running, so retreat if you need to.”

  “Sergeant, I order you to arrest these men! That is a direct order. Oh my . . .” He stopped speaking when he saw the door of the trailer drop and the first of the wargs jump free. The giant wolves, as big as horses, limbs squat and heavy with muscle, snarling and nipping at each other, really were an impressive sight. The black-masked orcs quickly found their mounts, slung themselves bareback onto the creatures and readied themselves for battle. “Oh my.” He started to draw his pistol, but I placed my hand firmly on his.

  “Those are on our side. The bad guys are coming from the other direction.” I pointed.

  “Oh my,” he said again as the pack of wolves and riders wheeled about and headed for the treeline, ready to flank into the enemy. The lieutenant looked like he was about to vomit.

  “And that’s what we alcoholics like to call a moment of clarity,” Boone quipped.

  I noted that the orcs had taken the time to put white handprints on their masks and helmets. It was a nice touch. They must have loved the Lord of the Rings movies too.

  “Edward, this is Harbinger. Hold your wargs in reserve. You’re our cavalry.”

  “Unter . . . stand . . . Harb Anger.”

  The road stretched ahead almost three hundred yards before disappearing over the top of a lush hill. The Hunters had spread into the forest on both sides. Strange that Harbinger had spoken of a valley of death, and now we found ourselves in one. I turned and found my team waiting, loaded down with heavy weapons, looking to me for guidance. I looked to Harbinger, he nodded to one side, and I went. The others followed. He continued to bark orders into the radio, giving each team lead an area of responsibility, and most notably telling VanZant’s team to “Dig in the big guns.”

  We set up in a small ditch off of the road, with a good view of the approach and a small amount of cover. Once again I was waist-deep in water, this time from the flash floods. Just once I would like to hunt monsters someplace dry, but as a good rule of thumb, if you could get lower, you do it. Lee threw down the tripod, and Trip dropped the FN MAG machine gun onto it. I was pleased to see that they did it exactly how Sam had taught us, quickly and surely opening the feed cover and sliding in the belt of silver .308. Lee hunkered down behind the big weapon. Holly handed me an RPG. The heav
y tube was reassuring in my hands. Everyone dug down into the ditch, prepared to fight. Nervous but competent. Scared but professional. We were ready to put some smack down. Not bad for an accountant, a librarian, a schoolteacher, and a stripper. Not bad at all.

  “Ready, guys?” I asked.

  “We got a choice?” Lee asked over the stock of the Belgian machine gun.

  “Not really.”

  The rain ceased. The wind died. The clouds turned an even brighter green. It was eerily still and the energy could be felt in the humid sky. Many Hunters glanced hopefully upward. Unfortunately there was no sunlight. The ancient evil approached.

  “They’re here,” I said, my voice echoing in the now silent valley.

  Four figures appeared over the hill, walking purposefully down the road. They had to know that we were there, but they did not care. They were Masters.

  Two clicks came over the radio—the signal to get ready. Harbinger would wait for them to close into the most efficient kill box before unleashing our fury.

  The four vampires continued to approach. They looked like regular people, out for a nice bit of exercise. Three males and a female. They were dressed in normal attire, nothing fancy, nothing archaic, just regular everyday clothing. Most likely taken off of some of their recent victims. They were graceful and beautiful even from here, but they could not hide what they were from me. I could almost taste the evil.

  I wasn’t the only one. “Man . . . I would give my left nut for some sunshine right about now,” Trip whispered.

  “It isn’t like you’re using it for anything anyway,” Holly retorted.

  “Will you shut up?”

  “The Cursed One isn’t going to let it happen.” I glanced up at the unnaturally moving clouds. This was his storm. “The sun won’t shine until he’s finished.”

  “We get in that cave, I’m going to put a grenade where the sun don’t shine on him,” Lee promised.

  Banter was good. It kept the mind off of the palpable terror that was at two hundred yards and closing. I raised the RPG, sat it on my shoulder, pushed off the button safety, and checked that the hammer was back. I had not shot one of these before, but the sighting arrangement was very straightforward. I centered the vampires in the aperture marked 200.