Monster Hunter Alpha-ARC (58 page)

“You’re really good at it, though.”

He closed the door behind him. There was an overhang to protect the entrance from the snow, so Earl lit a cigarette and settled down beneath it to wait. Two minutes later, a Chinook helicopter with no markings landed in front of the cabin. Four armored figures disembarked as soon as the ramp hit the ground. They fanned out in a protective circle while a fifth man strolled down the ramp. The stranger walked directly toward the cabin without even taking the time to orient himself. The four soldiers formed a line behind him and followed.

The stranger was tall, and despite his heavy coat, obviously thin. He trudged along through the snow at an energetic clip. Despite their camouflage-painted, ceramic-plate armor that made MHI’s heavy suits look svelte in comparison, the soldiers kept up. As they got closer, Earl noted that the leader’s head was bared to the elements, and that he was completely, shiny, bald. He was also wearing a pair of oddly colored, orange-lensed sunglasses, even though it was pitch dark.

The Chinook’s twin rotors were still turning, which made it difficult to understand the stranger’s greeting. He had to repeat himself as he got closer. “Good evening, Mr. Harbinger.”

Earl just nodded. “Your helicopter’s messing up my landscaping.”

The soldiers came to a silent halt a polite twenty feet away. Their leader closed the remaining distance and stopped at the overhang. “It won’t be there long.” The stranger appeared to be in his forties, six and a half feet tall, extremely long-limbed and with skin so pale that if Earl hadn’t smelled the warm blood pumping, he would’ve suspected the man was undead. He was borderline gaunt, but his movements gave off a sense of athleticism. He seemed human, just an odd one. “I’m Mr. Stricken.”

Earl made a show of not being able to hear over the chopper. “Sorry? What was that? Strickland?”

“Stricken,” he repeated.

“What? No handshake?” Earl asked.

“I’ve heard your reputation on the subject,” Stricken said. “My hobby is classical piano, so I’d prefer you not to break all the bones in my hand. May I come in?”

“No. What do you want?”

“Just a moment of your time. I can be polite or not. Your decision.” Stricken took off the orange shades, revealing albino eyes. “And I would like to speak to Ms. Kerkonen as well.”

Earl had been afraid of that. “Deputy Kerkonen died at the Quinn Mine.”

“We both know that’s not true. My time’s valuable Mr. Harbinger. Believe me, this isn’t my idea of fun. Cold doesn’t agree with me. Bring her out.”

Earl looked over at the four soldiers. Their helmets had opaque full-face visors, so it was impossible to read their expressions. He had no doubt he could take them. It was the F-16s he didn’t know what to do about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your file said that you could be a pain in the ass. A satellite has been passing over this area every day for weeks. There’s a redheaded woman here, approximately five foot eight, one hundred and thirty pounds. Nice rack. Spends her free time turning into a werewolf and terrorizing the squirrels. Wave, dumb-shit. You’re on camera,” Stricken said. Earl’s tilted his head to peer suspiciously around the overhang. “Don’t bother looking, you idiot, you can’t see it. It’s in fucking outer space.”

“She can control it. Just like me.”

Stricken’s laugh was mean. “You think I give a shit? You think I’m MCB? They’re losers. You think they’d get permission to go rerouting satellites for one measly lycanthrope? If popping her was my mission, I’d have vaporized this whole valley with one phone call.” The laughter died, and Stricken’s pink eyes bored into Earl. “Call her
out
.”

This man wasn’t to be trifled with. Earl opened the door a crack. “Heather?”

“I heard,” she muttered as she came through the door and stood proudly at Earl’s side. “What do you want from us?”

“Werewolves have to earn the right to exist. PUFF immunity is a rare and precious thing. Luckily, werewolves are an
amazing
creature, and I happen to need one.”

Not again.
Earl tossed his cigarette butt in the snow.
“How long this time?”

“Two years, beginning immediately. Upon satisfactory completion, there will be a certificate granting full PUFF immunity to the bearer.”

“Until the government changes its mind again.”

“Of course. This offer is valid for the next five minutes. Yes or no. If yes, then we board that helicopter and for the next two years you have zero communication with anyone outside of my organization. No friends, no family. For all intents and purposes, you’ll be government property for the next seven hundred thirty days. Seven hundred thirty-one if there’s a leap year. I haven’t checked the calendar.”

“And the job?”

“You will complete assignments as specified. These assignments will be dangerous but should be well within your capabilities. Everything you need will be provided. At the end of this term, you’re free to go. However, you will be required to keep all information pertaining to my organization classified for the rest of your life, or your immunity will be revoked and you’ll be terminated.”

“And if the answer is no?”

Stricken smiled that same unnerving smile. “Harsh words may be exchanged…” An F-16 roared past. “And cluster bombs.”

Earl glanced at the eerily silent soldiers. They hadn’t so much as twitched. There wasn’t even a hint of fear smell, nor excitement or any other recognizable chemicals. Their smell was an indeterminate mixture of gun-oil, synthetic fibers, meat, bone, and blood. They were either inhumanly well trained, or just plain inhuman. Their armored faceplates gave no clue.

He turned to Heather. She was still holding his arm. Now
she
was frightened. The soldiers were terrifying, not as physical threats, but as what they represented. Heather was barely learning to control herself. He was her anchor, he was her teacher, he was her lover, but now these strange men were here to take him away. Stricken wouldn’t just be hurting Earl, he’d be hurting her.

But if he didn’t go, they were both as good as dead. Even if he killed these men and they escaped, the hunt would just be beginning. He was a Hunter, and as such, he understood just how awful it was be to be the hunted. It would never stop.

Earl gently raised his hand and touched Heather on the cheek. She turned to him, and he could see the understanding in her eyes. She knew what he had to do. Heather was strong, even stronger than he had been at the beginning. She’d be fine. There was just the slightest hint of a nod. No matter what, she trusted him.

Stricken was waiting for an answer. The man, if he was a man at all, was still smiling, only his eyes weren’t. The strange eyes were utterly cold. It was just like before. Different decade, and it would be a different war, but the game was always the same. To them, a werewolf wasn’t a person with a curse, they were an asset, a weapon. They’d give him a new name, and then they’d point him at a target. He’d do his job, just like before.

Only this time, there would be a woman that loved him waiting at the end. So at least he’d have something to look forward to. Earl cleared his throat. “I’ll do it.”

“Not you.” Stricken shook his head and pointed one long finger at Heather. “I want her.”

The words took a second to register as Heather’s fingers tightened around Earl’s bicep. “You bastard!” he snarled as he took a step forward. The faceless soldiers’ guns came up with a clatter.

“Wait!” Heather shouted as she pulled on Earl’s arm.

Stricken raised his hand. The soldiers immediately stopped, their carbines shouldered, muzzles trained on Earl. Four laser dots danced on Earl’s shirt, but Stricken would die before Earl felt the sting of the first bullet.

“Up yours, Pinky. You can’t have her. You want a werewolf, you take me.”

“You know how it works, Mr. Harbinger. Monsters have to earn a place in our world, and you’ve done it. No one doubts you. You’re a
patriot
. You are living proof that the system works. Unfortunately, times have changed, and I’m afraid recruiting a man with your known personality quirks would be a bad human-resources decision. Ms. Kerkonen on the other hand remains an unknown quantity. She needs to prove herself, and, as you know, my organization is now short one werewolf.”

“So, Adam was yours?”

“Yes,” Stricken said unapologetically. “And he was the best I’ve ever seen. I had a great deal of respect for his parents as well. They worked for me, too, before they retired so Sharon could dote on her grandkids. Operative Alpha was just like you once, a superb killer. He also earned a place in a human world, only he decided that wasn’t good enough.”

“Your boy went nuts and killed my hometown,” Heather spat.

“I let my guard down, began to think of him as an equal. I’ll never make that mistake again.” Stricken looked at Heather pointedly. “Clock is ticking. You know how much it costs per minute to run a fighter jet? That’s all getting billed to my operating budget.”

Earl was calculating the time it would take to incapacitate the soldiers. Then he’d grab Stricken as a hostage and force the chopper to fly them out.…Heather squeezed his arm again. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’ll do it,” Heather said. “I can prove myself. Just let him go.”

Earl closed his eyes and died inside.

“Wise choice, Ms. Kerkonen,” Stricken said. “Get your bags and let’s go.”

Heather turned to him. “Earl…I’m sorry. I’ve…I’ve—”

He took Heather in his arms and held her close. “Don’t do this.”

“I’ll be back.” Heather was trying not to cry. “I’ll stay strong.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about. Don’t trust anyone,” Earl whispered. “I can—”

“Excuse me,” Stricken interrupted. “I said grab your shit and let’s
go
. Time is money, Ms. Kerkonen.”

Hesitantly, Heather broke away and entered the cabin. Earl watched her go, and there wasn’t anything he could do. The government was the most merciless monster he’d ever dealt with, and it was the only one that he could never truly beat.

“Don’t try to contact her. That will only make things worse,” Stricken said.

Earl’s hands curled into fists. “Heather serves her time. Then she goes free. You stick to the deal or you deal with me.”

Stricken nodded appreciatively. “And I’d expect no less. I would hate to sully our blossoming friendship. I’m not the bad guy here, Harbinger. I’m just doing my job, just like you had to. I don’t get off on dragging monsters into slavery. We’re doing important work, and it absolutely has to be done.”

If hate could kill, Stricken would have burst into flames. “Fuck you and your important work,” Earl whispered.

The door opened in a rectangle of firelight as Heather came out of the cabin, backpack in hand. Earl held her again, stroked her hair, lied and told her everything would be okay. “I love you, Earl. Wait for me.” He couldn’t form a response, other than to nod desperately. They kissed good-bye, lips salty with Heather’s tears, and then Heather was walking away, a soldier flanking her on either side, and there was nothing Earl could do but watch.

“You’ll get her back,” Stricken said. “You have my word.”

“Your word means nothing. I don’t even know who you people are.”

Stricken paused, weighing his answers. “We’re nobody. You think monsters are secret? They’re
famous
compared to us. I’d tell you to remember that, but you’re better off forgetting this ever happened.”

The soldiers escorted Heather up the ramp. She turned, waved, and bravely blew him a kiss. A solider took her by the arm, and then she was out of view. Earl exhaled, and did his best to retain both his composure and his humanity.

“Listen to me carefully, Stricken. She’s a good girl. She’s got a human’s heart. She’s not like Adam, and she’s sure as hell not like me. You go back on the deal, and I swear you’ll be worried about a lot more than me talking. I swear to God, if anything happens to her, nothing in the world will save you.”

“I’m not worried about you talking or your threats. Kill me, and somebody else will take my place. I’m humble enough to know I’m a little cog in a big machine. Talk? Well, no one would believe you, anyway.” Stricken put his odd glasses back on as he turned and walked to the waiting Chinook. He called over his shoulder, “Because remember, Mr. Harbinger, everybody knows there’s no such things as
unicorns
.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Larry Correia is the
New York Times
bestselling author of the
Monster Hunter
series and the
Grimnoir Chronicles
for Baen Books. He graduated with a degree in accounting from Utah State University and went to work for a Fortune 500 company as a financial analyst. Eventually, Larry ended up in the gun business, where he was a machinegun dealer, firearms instructor, and freelance writer for various gun magazines. Most recently he has worked in military contracting.  Larry lives in the mountains of Utah with his very patient wife and children.