Monster Hunter Vendetta (35 page)

"You open that door, and Earl's gonna put a stop to you, right quick," I said, not even thinking about the .45 Long Colt in my hand. This was a fellow Hunter. No way he could be stupid enough to open that door. That'd be suicide.

Hood committed suicide.

The fat kid turned around, hooked his fists under that big old bar and lifted it real hard. It popped out and fell on the ground.

I was surprised. Hood stepped back. "It's done," he said, smiling, then started to say something else, but that's when the door flew open with a bang, and there was just this bunch of pale fur and golden eyes flashing 'round under the moon. Hood started to scream as claws lit into him. He got opened up. Guts spilling out, flying all over, and then he went down, the werewolf on top of him, arms and legs just a-kicking, blood spraying. He just kept screaming for what seemed like forever, but probably was only a couple seconds, before Earl sunk his teeth into Hood's throat and went to town.

"Oh, no," I said. I was pointing my big old .45 right between those golden eyes. We had talked about this. Everybody that knew about Earl's condition knew what to do. We weren't supposed to hesitate, just shoot him. That's what Earl wanted.

I hesitated. The werewolf was squatting on the body, just ripping and eating and tearing. Hood was sprayed all over as sure as somebody had stuffed a grenade in him. Blood and snot was just pouring off Earl's teeth and dripping all over Hood's face. The kid's eyes were open. His neck was gone and blood was all over the ground. Earl looked right at me, then took a slow step off the body, coming closer. Then he took another step. And another.

I had killed more werewolves than any other Hunter ever. I thumb-cocked the hammer. Kill him!

But I didn't. For the first time in my life, I didn't have the guts to do what needed to be done. I had known Earl for thirty years, met him clear back when I had been a pretty young thing. I had loved him once, but I had kept on getting older while he had stayed the same, and that kind of thing could never work right. He'd known that. He'd convinced me, a silly girl with a crush, of that. But I just couldn't shoot Earl.

"Earl, it's me. Dorcas. You listen up. You stop right there."

Another step.

"Don't make me kill you. Listen to me. Stop—"

Those eyes were glued to me. He moved so fast
.
.
.

Earl hit me in the chest. I was flying through the air, then I landed on my face. A big old claw landed on my foot and pulled me back to him, filling my mouth with dirt. Then he flipped me over. My gun came up for shooting, but he knocked it out of my hand. One claw slammed my thigh to the ground while the other one lifted my foot right straight up. My knee broke and I hollered.

It came right off. My leg tore right off! He just pulled so hard in both directions at one time that the muscle just ripped apart. It hurt so bad, Christ Almighty, it hurt bad. I must have passed out for a second, because next thing I knew, I was crawling, squirting blood all over, and Earl was back there, squatting, holding my leg in his hands and eating it. The son of a bitch was eating my leg, just chewing away. Where'd my gun go?

Then he tossed my leg over his shoulder and came at me on all fours. This time I knew he was gonna eat my guts and for the first time in forever, I was scared, damn scared, piss your pants, know you're gonna die scared. He stopped, and those yellow eyes got all scrunched up, and then I heard the gunshots. Earl turned to see who was shooting him, but a big old chunk of meat flew out of his chest, and he went down. Silver bullet.

"Dorcas! Are you okay? How'd Earl get out? Oh shit! Your leg!"

It was Dwayne Myers. I tried to tell him what happened, but my head hurt too bad and the words wouldn't come out. I had this damn ringing in my ears and I felt real cold.

Somebody else grabbed hold of me and I felt something hard twist around my leg. Hunters were here and they were all jabbering now. I wanted them to shut the hell up so I could close my eyes, but I knew that was probably just the blood loss talking. I started to come in and out. Black and then moonlight, stuff happening, all confusing, then back to black. Ray, always so damn brave, grabbed one of Earl's hairy arms and dragged him back inside the slave quarters, then came back out and slammed the door shut. Black. Dwayne was crying now, holding what was left of Hood in his arms and rocking back and forth. Dwayne was all covered in blood.

I finally managed to say something, but I wasn't sure who I was talking to. "Don't kill Earl. It ain't his fault."

Black.

Black.

I opened my eyes. I was myself again, Owen Zastava Pitt. This magic stuff was one bad trip. I had just lived for a moment as a middle-aged woman, and experienced having my leg torn clean off by a vicious beast. My knee hurt with a phantom pain from over twenty years ago. Glancing around, conference room, same people, Dorcas was talking, but it was just a background buzz. I had just lived the story as she'd brought the memory up. I closed my eyes, and all I could see was a much younger Agent Myers, kneeling, with half of a torso in his lap, exposed ribs in mangled flesh, and a flopping, nearly decapitated head cradled in his arms, his white shirt soaked red, as he cursed Earl Harbinger to hell.

The other Hunters were enthralled as Dorcas told her story. Gradually the humming in my ears tapered off, and the black flashes inside my eyes died down. I could hear words again.

"So that damn fool, Hood, lifted the bar, and Earl flew out and tore him apart. I went for my gun, but Earl came over and ripped my leg off. Then Myers came out and shot Earl a couple of times with silver bullets."

"I never knew
.
.
." Julie said. "That's horrible."

"Why didn't you shoot him?" Holly asked.

"He was just too damn fast, and I was sleepy and not paying attention," Dorcas lied.

"No," I said without thinking. "You didn't want to shoot him
.
.
." My head was still really clouded.

Dorcas glared at me, eyes like dangerous little pinpricks. "What was that, boy?"

"Nothing, ma'am," I responded quickly.

"Thought so," she snapped. "If you're ever close to him on the full moon, remember, he ain't got no control then. A real Hunter don't hesitate. You put him down. Put him down hard. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," all of us responded in unison. Dorcas continued to eye me suspiciously. Maybe she wasn't really lying. Maybe she had told this story enough times that she honestly didn't remember about how as a young woman she had once been so in love with Earl Harbinger that she had almost let him murder her decades later.

Either way
.
.
.
none of my business.

"Are you positive that it really was him?" Holly demanded.

"Yeah, I'm positive. Everybody was positive. Earl near tore his head off. That's hard to fake. Now where the hell's my coffee?"

"Sorry
.
.
." Holly murmured and returned to the coffeepot.

"That doesn't make any sense," Trip said contemplatively. "Did he say anything?"

"The whole thing was kind of fuzzy," Dorcas answered. She had undergone an intense trauma, so that was understandable. "He said he couldn't stop. Like he had no choice, like he had to open that door. It don't make no sense to me, but that's what he said."

"Why'd he do it? Did you guys investigate?" I asked.

Milo chimed in. "Of course. But we never found anything. He was totally normal one minute, then he did something monumentally stupid. It was like he was trying to kill himself, but he never gave any indication beforehand. His teammates were more surprised than anybody. Hood wasn't the suicidal type."

"He was on Carlos' team. Is he still around?"

"How'd you know that?" Dorcas asked. She had been suspicious before, and that had just confirmed it.

"Don't matter," I replied quickly, and I could tell she didn't like that one bit. Well, I didn't like being telepathic either, so too damn bad. There wasn't time to be polite. "Can we talk to this Carlos? Maybe a Hunter from that team will know something about this shadow man."

Dorcas shook her head. "Carlos Alhambra's team was lost." She thought about it for a moment. "Probably about three years after Hood got eaten. Like '89, I figure."

"A year before my mom disappeared," Julie added.

"How do you lose a team of Hunters?" Holly asked slowly.

Dorcas made a motion with her hands like a magician doing a trick. "Poof. Just gone. They were working a case and they just never came back. Five good men missing."

"Carlos was the only survivor," Julie said. "I remember because I was young and it terrified me. All I could think was that could have been one of my parents lost like that. They found him wandering through the forest weeks later, dazed, half-dead from exposure, his mind totally gone. No sign was ever found of his team."

"I've heard that story before somewhere," I said.

Julie nodded. "You met him. He's still a patient at Appleton."

"That's right." Dr. Nelson had showed me on the tour. Carlos had been in the wing of the Appleton Asylum reserved for the seriously damaged cases. That wing of the place had haunted me, noises of gibbering madness coming from behind every steel door while the good doctor had lectured me about the dangers a Hunter's mind could be exposed to. "Susan just said that Hood had taken out a team of Hunters and we had never even suspected
.
.
.
She said that they had learned too much."

"We've got to go talk to him," Trip said.

"Carlos hasn't said a word to anybody since they found him
.
.
.
All he does is sit there and hum children's songs and shit himself. His brain turned to mush. Whatever he saw messed him up something fierce," Dorcas said sadly. "He was a good man."

"Too bad," Holly muttered as she shoved coffee to Dorcas. "If he could talk, he'd probably lead us right to this shadow freak."

There might be a way. I glanced at Julie. She must have known exactly what I was thinking, because she shook her head. I didn't need psychic powers to know that she thought it was stupid and dangerous. We had no idea how these weird powers worked or what side effects they might have. All I knew was that anything that came from the other side had to come with a price. And dredging through the memories of a madman was probably not the best idea anyway.

"Don't you even think it," Julie said. "I'm putting my foot down."

"What?" I asked with feigned innocence.

"Huh?" Trip asked.

"Nothing," Julie responded. "Owen was just thinking of doing something asinine."

"What'd I miss?" Milo asked.

"Nothing. Sleep on it, and we'll see you in the morning." Julie stabbed the button and ended the call. "Dorcas, would you mind going back downstairs and checking on the Newbies? It isn't safe to send them back to the barracks yet, so we'll probably need to think up a story. I'll be down in a minute."

The old lady grumbled as she pulled her leg off the table and strapped it back on. She was the only one here who didn't know about what I was experiencing. Dorcas stood with a wobble, snatched up her Styrofoam cup, and headed for the door.

"Hey, Dorcas," I stopped her. "Thanks for telling us about that."

The old lady gave us a bitter smile. "There's always been too damn many secrets around this place," she said, knowing full well she was getting left out of something. She was on the list of potential spies, though personally I really doubted that. It would be a cold day in hell before I could imagine that woman signing up with a death cult. "Do what you gotta do, kids. I'd do the same if I were you." Then, in a flash of pastel bathrobe and the slam of the door, she was gone.

"Well, now we know why she's MHI's little cup of sunshine," Holly said.

"Like you've got room to talk," Trip responded. "That's you in a few years."

Holly reached over and punched him in the arm. Trip flinched.

This whole thing sucked. Earl had been right from the beginning. The very idea that a fellow Hunter could be betraying us was painful and damaging. I swore to myself that I was going to catch the son of a bitch so we could get back to normal. But first things first
.
.
.
Julie didn't waste any time. She turned to me. "You can't try to read Carlos' mind. That's suicide."

"You got a better idea?"

She paused, rubbing her neck. "Not really. But you don't know what you're doing. Do you honestly think you can control it?"

"Sure I can," I said with false confidence. "Compared to time travel, it'll be a walk in the park.

Holly laughed. "Then you're an idiot. You just had an episode when Dorcas was talking, didn't you? You got all glassy eyed and stupid for a second. I thought you were going to drool on the table."

"Again?" Julie asked with alarm. "How many more times has this happened?"

"Just a couple little ones," I lied.

"I don't like it, man. You're messing with things you don't understand," Trip said. "There's got to be another way. We've got his name."

"The Feds have more resources," Holly added. "They can probably find him better than we can. Like with secret databases and the Patriot Act or something."

"Do you really think the Patriot Act has a clause for necromancers?" I asked pointedly.

"You know what I mean. We should tell Franks, and let them handle it. It's not like we're getting paid for this."

Julie agreed with Holly. "They're right. It's too dangerous."

I didn't say anything, but my friends knew me far too well, surely understanding that I'd had enough. They continued to come up with reasons why I should just stay safe. But I was tired of waiting. Screw it. I stood, placed my palms on the table, and raised my voice. "These assholes have tried to kill me and my entire family. As long as they're out there, everybody I love is in danger, and that includes you guys. Sitting around powerless is pissing me off. You want to sic the Feds on him, fine, whatever, but this is my fight. This is personal. So now it looks like my enemy is this Hood guy and we've got a lead. Yeah, it's a pretty iffy lead, but it's what we've got. So I'm going to Appleton, and I'm going to find out what those missing Hunters learned, even if I have to rip it right out of his brain."