Monster Hunter International

Chapter 21

We lifted off from the compound and headed northwest at over a hundred and twenty miles an hour. Even at that speed, we had about two hours of flight time. I sat next to Julie. She had winked at me when she had strapped in, but did not say anything that the others could hear. Harbinger studied us stonily, but after a few minutes of uneventful flight, he used the opportunity to get some sleep. Trip and Holly stared out of opposite windows, apparently lost in thought. Milo and Sam argued about what Sam's new team logo should be, either a frog or a walrus. Either way it was going to have a cowboy hat. Lee read a book until he became violently airsick, then he too went to sleep. Skippy left the music off of the intercom, probably in deference to the early morning hour, not that the internal engine noises of the chopper weren't already deafeningly loud. His brother Ed took the co-pilot's seat. He was dressed like a ninja, except for the tinted Bolle goggles.

When nobody was looking, Julie reached over and took my hand. She held it for most of the flight.

I did not know if she felt the same way about me as I felt about her. Looking at it logically, she barely knew me, and in the last twenty-four hours her world had been turned upside down. Was this sudden affection for me the result of feelings that she already held, or were they instead caused by her need to have some sort of anchor?

Either way, I was fine. I could deal with being an anchor. I was certainly heavy enough. Screw logic. It had no place in relationships anyway. I just enjoyed holding her hand.

The rhythmic strumming of the helicopter made me tired. I could understand why, since I had only had a few hours of sleep that night. And it had been a stressful night to say the least-check that, it had been a stressful week. On Saturday I had been drowned, beaten and shot. Sunday I had been slapped around and had some teeth knocked out. On Monday I got to go to the dentist and, sadly, that had been the most relaxing time of the whole week. Tuesday had resulted in a van wreck and road rash, and I had gotten my ass kicked last night by, first, a vampire, and then used by Franks as a punching bag. Who knew what today would bring? Interestingly enough, the full moon was going to be Friday night. Exactly one week from when this all started. It had an interesting sort of symmetry to it, or it probably would if I lived to enjoy it.

A week ago I had been ready to quit. Scared that I was doing the wrong thing. Scared by the violence that I kept leashed up inside. But those things, that darkness, it was what had kept many of us alive over the last few days. My pursuit of a regular life was a lie. I could see that now.

My place was here. I was a Monster Hunter.

By the time we flew over Hayneville, I was asleep.

I saw the mysterious Tattooed Man. He was driving a car down the nearly empty freeway. The person sitting next to him had been the vehicle's previous owner, neck snapped like a twig when the Tattooed Man had decided he needed transportation. His bare foot was on the gas, and he kept it just under the speed limit to avoid attention.

Black eyes stared straight ahead, fixed in the direction of his target. He drummed his fingers absently on the wheel. He was close. Very close. The anticipation of regaining his charge was great, and the excitement of approaching battle was building in his ancient soul.

He knew I was watching him. He was close enough now for that. The tattoos on his face withered as he spoke, knowing all too well that I could hear him despite the barriers of space and time. His archaic form of speech was thick and accented.

"I care not about thy war. The artifact is mine to protect, and do so I shall."

Who are you? I thought.

"Look upon me and see thy doom, cursed man. Thou shalt die by my hand."

Why?

He paused, the unnatural ink swirling around his blunt features. He seemed surprised by my question.

"Thou knowest not?"

No.

"Thou knowest not of thy fate? Of thy place in this world?"

Nope.

He laughed at me. A booming hearty laugh. It was without real emotion, as any human feelings that had once inhabited this hardened creature had passed a long time ago. Rather, the laughter was an ingrained reflex at hearing something so seemingly preposterous.

"Surely thou hast some knowledge?"

No. I'm getting pretty sick of this myself.

" Then I shall be saddened to take the life of a warrior whose heart is without guile. Alas, it must be. For that I am sorry, but thou must surely die by my hand. I shall do my best to make it swift and glorious."

I don't want to fight you.

"Thou hast no choice," he stated flatly. " 'Tis my duty."

I had my fill of people and monsters threatening to kill me.

Bring it on, bitch.

His face cracked into a wide grin, the swirling markings formed a sympathetic jaw around his lips. "Ahh, there be the spirit. We shall wage us a fine battle."

He continued driving as my spirit lifted from the moving vehicle. The sun was rising on the freeway behind us. I recognized the city in the background.

Montgomery.

The dream world.

"Hello, Boy." The Old Man greeted me as I approached the destroyed church. "Hurry, hurry. Time is much short. Cut off last time." He looked agitated, limping toward me, using his cane as support in the light but slick snow.

"Mordechai, who the hell was that joker?" I asked as I stepped over some rubble and scattered bricks. Either I had not noticed before, or perhaps the Old Man had not put them there before, but there were thousands of shell casings scattered on the ground or pocked into the snow.

"Who?" he asked, perplexed.

"That big tattoo-faced guy. The Guardian of the artifact or whatever."

He hurried over, his face drawn into a look of concern. "You spoke to this man?"

"Yeah, just now. Didn't you see?"

"No." He shook his head, his Star of David bouncing wildly off of his thin chest. "He is here? Now?" The Old Man sounded very worried.

"I think so. I think he's in Montgomery."

"Is bad. Much much bad."

"He said he has to kill me."

"Afraid of this I was. Listen to me, Boy. You are brave and strong, but no match for him. If he comes, run."

"So let me get this straight, you've got no problem with me taking on the Cursed One and seven Master vampires, and gargoyles, and wights, and who knows what else, but you want me to turn and run if I see this tattoo-faced, funny-talking freak?"

"Yes." He shook his head happily. "Glad you understand, Boy. Now come, time is short, and still much you have to see. I will do what can, but not know if have time enough."

"Why is he so dangerous? How can he be any more dangerous than Lord Machado?"

The Old Man put his hands alongside my head. "Not him who is dangerous. I worry about you who is dangerous."

"Huh?"

He squeezed my head and looked me in the eyes. I think he was trying to convey the seriousness of his advice. "Never mind. See him. Run away. Not strong enough to face. Bad things happen. Now shush. Much memory to show before fight."

The dream world faded away.

Lord Machado's memory was sharp and refined for this night, etched deeply into his mind.

This pyramid was much larger than the others, but had been partially buried by earthquakes and mudslides in the distant past, and then mostly reclaimed by the jungle. The stones were crumbling with age, and the once-intricate carvings were weathered to the point that they were no longer clearly recognizable. Now the pictures looked more like squid and crab things going about their business, than the pictorial people that they must have been at one time. The remaining architecture seemed unfamiliar and somehow alien.

Many months had passed while the priestess had instructed me in her dark arts. I had learned much, and seen things not meant for human eyes. I had communed with dark forces, and my education had continued until finally I felt ready to unleash the power. The time had come for me to reclaim my birthright and fulfill the prophecy. I was ready. The priestess Koriniha was at my side. A small contingent of her selected priests led the way up the steps. A squadron of my most trusted and loyal soldiers remained to guard the base of the pyramid.

The priestess leaned in close and spoke softly into my ear. "Your men are scared, Lord Machado."

"They do not understand what we do. But they are loyal. They will do as they are told. They would follow me into the very pit itself if ordered, for I am their general. And they know their place."

"That is good. But not all of your soldiers are so loyal. There has been no word of your chief captain." She sounded mildly worried. "We cannot afford an interruption during the sacrifice. The Old Ones would be offended."

She was right to be concerned. A small group of men, led by one of my best captains, had disappeared, most likely deserted. The giant of a man, called Thrall, had hired onto the expedition as a mercenary. He was from some small country to the northeast, and had barely even spoken our language at the time of our embarkation, but he had proven himself to be a fierce warrior, whom the men would follow without hesitation. I had been reluctant to promote him, but he was far too capable to have been wasted as a mere musketeer.

Unfortunately, his primitive upbringing had made my own superstitious men seem like philosophers in comparison. He had been against my initial conscription of the native forces, and he had been adamantly opposed to staying in the city, rather than sacking and burning it to the ground. I had my suspicions that he had been in league with the now departed Friar de Sousa as well. The divinations of the priestess had confirmed his treachery and the fact that he had been a holy man amongst his forgotten people. Doubtless my consorting with dark forces had driven him away.

It would not matter, even if the captain had fled for the sea. By the time he would be able to send a message of my treachery back to agents of the crown, it would be too late. My powers would be granted tonight. "No need to worry, my love. The good captain is no threat to us." I had dispatched a force of soldiers and conscripts to chase the deserters down and execute them. "It is under control."

"Excellent, my lord, but should it prove necessary, I summoned some protectors for our ceremony tonight."

The top of the ancient structure was flat except for a single raised dais. The altar had a funnel protruding from its base, giving some clue to its dark history. Giant braziers of flaming coals had been placed on the corners, illuminating us with flickering light. The pagan priests went immediately to their respective stations. Large stone demons squatted around the altar. One of the carved statues turned its head and regarded us with blank stone eyes. Dust shook from it as unnaturally long arms flexed nonexistent muscles. It was a mighty beast.

"What manner of creature is that?" I hissed.

"They are here to protect you, Lord Machado. Once you unlock the power of the Old Ones, you will be able to create these animations as you see fit." The stone creature turned away, satisfied that I was its new master. I could only imagine the army that I could command with creatures constructed from the rocks of the earth itself.

A small group of the feather-robed men were already waiting before the altar. They stood aside and kneeled as we approached. One of the priests said something in his language to the priestess.

"The sacrifice is ready, lord," she told me. A young man was stretched upon the altar, his wrists and ankles bound with heavy cords. Rather than fearful, the man appeared defiant. He said something in their strange language. I could tell he was cursing me.

"He is a hunter of the Ewaipanoma of the jungle and the Ahuzoitl of the rivers, a protector of the innocent, and a great warrior. The Old Ones demand such a sacrifice."

"What do I need to do?" I ran my finger down the worn wood shaft of my ax. I would show this hunter of monsters what I thought of his curses.

"Are you ready, my Lord of the Ax? Are you prepared to be a vessel for the very power of the ancients?"

"I am ready to take my rightful place as ruler of this world."

She looked deep into my eyes. The world condensed down to just the two of us, shutting out the chanting priests, the cursing and spitting Hunter, and the screaming of the jungle. "You are he who has been prophesied. Warrior, son of a great warrior, your very name taken from the weapons that have shed the blood of your family's enemies. Sent by a king on an impossible quest… A leader, a visionary, an ally of darkness…" She stroked my cheek as I recalled the prophecy of the black obelisk. "And of monsters…" She gestured at the hulking demon figure standing guard over us. "Truly you are the one, five hundred years since the last, five hundred years until the next, the only one amongst a thousand generations of man with the key to unlock the power over time… There is but one more thing."

"What is that?"

"The Old Ones said you must have love." She pulled herself tight against my armor, like a parasite, or a barnacle upon the hull of a ship. She needed me more than I needed her now. "Tell me, my lord, is it so?"

"Of course," I answered truthfully. I loved her as much as a practical man such as myself could love anything. I had found in the dark priestess an equal in ambition, desire and lust for control. If the Old Ones required a weak emotion to unlock the secrets of ultimate power, I could think of worse choices than the wanton evil creature before me.

"If I were to die, would you return for me? Would you bring me back from the other side?" she implored. "You alone will have the power, but you will need my guidance to use it."

Of course, that was her key to staying in my graces. The Old Ones had not revealed their secrets to me like they had to her. They only saw fit to give me a glimpse into the darkness and a taste of their unimaginable dominations. I needed her guidance. "I give you my word, Koriniha. I shall not allow you to perish so long as I live. And with this"-I pulled the bag from my waist-"should you die, I shall bring you back."

The priestess laughed again; it was the shrill cry of a harpy. "Then let us begin the ceremony, my lord."

The priests and sorcerers formed a chain around the altar, leaving Koriniha, the bound Hunter, and myself in the center. I was directed to remove the artifact from its bag and place it upon the stones. A burst of cold traveled up my arm as my gauntlet closed around the small rectangular box. It did not reflect the moonlight, rather it seemed to absorb it hungrily, leaving a greater darkness than was possible. For the first time, markings could be seen on the black surface. They began to glow and gain in strength, withering tendrils, seemingly alive and searching.

I placed the box near the head of the trapped Hunter. He shouted and spat at me, but his words were drowned out by the increasing hum of the chanting priests. The coldness in my arm did not dissipate, but began to travel deeper into my core, chilling my blood, and forming crystals of ice vapor in my lungs.

The priestess studied the moon. "The time is upon us. I must call upon the Old Ones in their speech. When I am done, remove the heart of the sacrifice. Drink some of his blood and pour the rest upon the artifact."

I pulled my battle-ax from my back, released the leather cover from the ancient sharpened head, and cast it aside. The shaft was smooth and polished with use, strengthened with bands of iron and had been replaced countless times over generations. The blade itself was ancient, made of an unknown metal that cut like the finest steel, yet had somehow survived in the possession of my family since the time of Alexander. It had taken many lives, and the sacrifice tonight would be but another, though it had never been used in so dark a pagan ritual.

For me there would be no reconciliation. There would be no forgiveness. After tonight there was no looking back or turning away from the dark path I trod. My people, my country and my God would all forsake me for the acts I was about to commit.

So be it.

I twisted the deadly weapon in my gauntleted fists. "I am ready."

The priestess began to speak, her voice low and guttural, descending somehow into tones not produced by human beings, and in pitches never meant to be heard by mortal ears. Swirling black clouds drew over the pyramid, moving at speeds greater than the greatest storms of the seas. Lightning cracked down into the surrounding jungle. Thunder boomed and echoed off of the mountains, deafening in its fury. Raindrops the size of babies' fists pelted down upon us in an intense deluge. Within moments the pyramid was drenched, and torrents of water spilled down the causeways and stairs. The memory became disjointed and the foundations of the world cracked.

You not listen to this, the Old Man whispered.

Why?

Is for best. Not to have such things in head. Drive you mad.

The memory flashed by impossibly fast. The ceremony continued. The priests gave dark signs. The priestess continued her impossible litany.

Time returned to normal.

Better. Now worms not eat your brain when wake up.

"Now take his heart and feast upon his blood!" The priestess screamed over the roar of the wind and rain. The artifact was floating now, inches above the stone. It was absorbing all of the available light, seeming to surge and gorge itself with every continuous lightning strike. The etchings on the artifact had detached themselves and were swirling in the air, growing and spinning, crackling with black energy.

The Hunter met my eyes. He was beyond fear and prepared for his death. I brought the weapon down on the center of his chest, severing the muscles, and cracking the sternum. I stopped before it pierced his heart. I could use my ax with surgical precision. He screamed in agony. I twisted and levered the blade in, using the handle as a pry bar. I shattered the ribs, and pulled the ax free.

He was still alive as I reached into the cavity, pushed through the remaining flesh and welling fluids and grasped his beating heart with my gauntlet. It pulsed as I curled my fist around the organ and tugged. The Hunter screamed and spasmed as I tore the heart free.

"Drink." The priestess commanded.

No. I tore myself free of the vision.

You must watch, the Old Man insisted. You must learn.

Not that part. Hell no.

Good, Boy. Hope for you yet.

I tossed the still-warm heart aside. My mouth tasted coppery and my stomach roiled against the unfamiliar sensations. The fluids that I had poured into the artifact had seemingly disappeared, swallowed up and taken to another, darker place. The artifact was spinning now, the black lines of power twirling around like streamers, twisting with the physical presence of snakes.

"There is only one thing left, my lord," the priestess said, "and the power over time itself is yours."

"Tell me what I must do!" I raged into the storm. I was so close.

The booming of the thunder continued, but my battle-hardened senses picked up another sound-the explosions of gunpowder.

"You must take the final-" She stopped, glancing down in surprise. Koriniha reached one delicate hand between her breasts and probed with her fingers. Her hand came away from the hole as a trickle of blood ran down her rain-soaked robes.

I turned in time to see the armored figures appearing over the lip of the pyramid. Most of their matchlocks misfired as the fierce rain soaked their powder or extinguished their smoking cords, so they used them as clubs. Captain Thrall led the charge. His sword cleaved downward and tore one of the priests in half. Behind him were all of his men, and I was surprised to see many of the men that I had sent in pursuit of the deserters. Even my most loyal troops that I had left to guard the pyramid had turned against me.

The demons rose and lumbered into the fray, swatting aside the conquistadors with heavy stone limbs. The scene degenerated into a mob of confusion as rain fell and lightning flashed. The artifact still spun in its web of black tendrils.

"Koriniha!" I shouted as the priestess fell to her knees, vomiting blood from her open mouth. I knelt at her side, and caught her before she went facedown to the stone. I shook her. "What now? Tell me!"

"My love… Bring me back…" She foamed at the mouth, and died. Her eyes rolled sightlessly back into her head.

"No! No! Damn you! Damn you all!" I screamed as I dropped her soulless form into the rushing water. My plans were ruined. Without the priestess I did not know how to commune with the Old Ones. All of my treachery, throwing away my command, throwing away my generalship, all for naught. I howled in rage and hatred.

I had to reach the artifact.

Now the memory shifts, flailing forward in jerks and spurts.

"Stop him! Kill the general!" bellowed Captain Thrall. He was locked in battle against one of the fearsome demons. With his great strength he sent it tumbling backward over the pyramid's edge. "Kill him!" the brute screamed in a berserk rage.

Soldiers moved to block me. I killed one of Koriniha's priests that stumbled blindly into my path. I waded into the troops, ax humming through the giant water droplets. The troops fell back under the fury of my onslaught. My skin was like ice and my blade moved as quickly as the lightning. I could feel the power of the artifact. So close, so very close.

I crushed a soldier's skull and batted him aside. A sword tip streaked across my armor as I stepped clear and hammered the man to the earth. I wrenched out my ax blade, dripping with blood. Rage cascaded over me. How dare these men betray me after all that I had done for them? I swung my ax, killing or dismembering with each blow. I used the blade, spike and butt of my weapon to bring down my troops. Flailing limbs and blurred sword blades surrounded me as I poured death into my newfound enemies.

Pain flashed through my thigh as a blade pierced me. I broke free and spiked the soldier through the face. The water running off the top of the pyramid was running red with blood. The backdrop of the light-sucking altar and its spinning black tendrils were so close. I had to reach it. Razorlike steel cut through my back, breaking the coat of mail, and splattering my blood into the rain.

"NO!" I bellowed, turning and striking down the soldier who had dared to touch me. "YOU CAN NOT KILL ME!" The power of the artifact was thick upon me. I killed two others in one mighty swing. More wounds were inflicted on my flesh. I fell to my knees, but continued fighting. I cut a soldier's leg off, and finished him when he hit the ground.

That was all.

I pushed myself up. Slowly. Shakily. Bleeding from many punctures and lacerations. Dozens of bodies sprawled upon the pyramid top or across the stairs. My soldiers, my countrymen, all of them dead or dying. A few feet away, the final stone demon crumbled and flaked away into the rivers of blood and rain. Captain Thrall knelt upon its back, broken sword still clenched in one hand. His massive chest heaved with the exertion, and blood drizzled down his face from his lacerated scalp.

"Lord Machado," he said.

"Captain Thrall," I nodded.

We both looked at the darkness of the artifact, and then back at each other.

" 'Tis not meant to be, my General. 'Tis not meant for men to use such a black thing." His skull was visible through missing parts of his face.

"With it I can rule the world."

"Thou art lost without thy witch," the giant stated simply. The priestess' body lay nearby, partially submerged.

"I will bring her back," I hissed.

"My ancestors came to my dreams and told me of thy plans. Thou was destined to fail and to open the way for the return of the dark forces of the ancients through thy failure. My people are gone. I am the last. Yet I have not forgotten our sagas." The giant captain gradually heaved himself to his feet, shaking from the many grievous wounds on his body. A lesser man would have just lain down and died. "Ye shall not pass."

"Never." I used my ax to lever myself forward. "It is mine."

"I have made a vow to the spirits. I will protect this artifact until the end of time. No man will look upon its evil and live." The captain turned and stumbled toward the altar.

"It's mine!" I screamed as I hurled my heavy ax across the distance. The blade sunk deeply into his back. It was a lethal blow.

The captain fell forward into the swirling bands of crackling black energy. He bellowed in pain as the evil tore into his flesh. Searing him. Burning him. He was turned over and spun in the maelstrom of darkness. The bands sunk and bonded into his very skin, like a twisted inking, an evil living tattoo.

"I… vow… to… keep… it… from… you.. " He was engulfed by the power. The whites of his eyes disappeared, to be replaced by solid inky blackness. He screamed in agony.

There was an explosion of color and energy as lightning struck the top of the pyramid. Pain and heat surged up through my armor, burning me and hurling me aside. I fell upon the stairs, rolling and tumbling, through the torrents of water, down, down into the darkness.

I gasped as the Old Man removed his hands from my head. I was once again myself. The jungle pyramid and its unholy storm were gone, replaced by the eerily silent 1940s Polish town.

"Holy shit!" I said. I felt terribly weak. "What happened?"

"In his mind too long," the Old Man said softly, "is great strain."

"The captain. Thrall. He is the Tattooed Man."

"Yes. Cursed like the rest of us. Always there is a catch with these things. How you say-I think… He got screwed."

Indeed. Cursed to guard an evil artifact for the last five hundred years. I could think of lots better ways to pass the time.

"But there is more?" I asked. There were still questions to be answered. "Lord Machado failed. That evil priestess chick got shot before they could finish the ceremony. Yet somehow he's still alive today. How did he become the Cursed One?"

"There is small bit of memory left. Only short time while he is still human, I think. Still that I must show you."

"You have to show me now, Mordechai," I pleaded. "If I can know how he became what he is, then I can know how to defeat him."

"Not yet. Too much strain. And rest I must."

"I can do it," I answered. "I have to be ready."

"No, Boy. Not ready. You wake up. Be ready for fight. Big fight for you today."

"Big fight?"

"Yes. Much big." He pointed his fingers and made shooting noises. "Much fight."

"You got any more little wooden carvings you want to send back with me?" I asked hopefully. "In case I need to roast any vampires?"

"Sorry, Boy. I surprised that work my own self."

"How could it anyway? I'm no expert of physics, but how can I take an immaterial thing into the material world?"

"Boy, much you have to learn. Even spirit is matter. Just much finer… Much simpler time when I used to hunt monsters. Shoot them with gun. Bang. Dead monster. Nice and simple. Monsters nowadays all complicated and hard to make dead."

"So any chance you might be able to scrounge up some toys then?"

He shrugged his thin shoulders. "I try. When time comes, I have something for help. Now go." He shooed me away. I turned to leave. "One last thing."

"Yeah?" I stood barefooted in the snow while I waited for him. He seemed to be trying to find the words. "Spit it out, Mordechai. Apparently I've got monsters to kill."

"Boy." He regarded me solemnly. "On this day. Try very hard not to get dead."

"I will try," I promised.

The Hind tore across the sky at rapid speed and dangerously low altitude. I awoke to the thrumming of the blades, the deafening roar of the engines, and the piped-in music from the Doors, "Riders on the Storm." Julie's head was resting on my shoulder. A lock of her hair had strayed from under her helmet and draped down her face. I brushed it back. She woke up and smiled tiredly.

She was still holding my hand.

Harbinger signaled for all of us to put in our earpieces so that we could communicate and do a radio check.

"Wake up, sleepy heads. We're only ten minutes out. Skippy is swinging wide around Corinth. His people have an agreement with the elves. No orcs on elf land. No elves on his. We'll be coming in from the south and will be setting down in a designated clearing. Feds have already gotten us on radio, and are even tracking us for surface to air missiles. Seedy bastards."

"I hope they don't get twitchy," Milo said.

"I hate the government," Sam stated coldly. "Remind me again why we're working with them?"

"They need us. We need them," Harbinger said.

"Not to be a jerk about it, but how exactly do we get paid for this?" Holly asked. "Saving the world don't pay the bills."

"Government representatives don't get to claim PUFF. By being here we will get at least an assist. Even that is worth a small fortune on a Master." Harbinger pulled his revolver, checked the rounds, spun the cylinder and reholstered. "Only I talk to the Wendigo. Everybody else stay way the hell back. He ain't friendly. When we go after the Cursed One, let the Feds go in first. At that point we're just observers. Let them do the bleeding. Pitt?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Damn it. Call me Earl. "Sir" is the Boss. Have you learned anything new? Is Mordechai Byreika still in your dreams?"

"No and yes. I've seen things. But I don't know what's going to be able to help us."

"Give us the short version," he ordered.

I quickly told the others about the human Lord Machado and his army, about the ancient city, about the evil priestess Koriniha and her dark priests, about the artifact, the ceremony, the sacrifice and, finally, the Tattooed Man.

"I've spoken with him," I said, "just now, in my dream. It was real. He was heading toward Montgomery. He's coming for the artifact, and he swears he's going to kill me."

"I don't care how bad everybody thinks this guy is, MHI don't roll over and take it from no five-hundred-year-old pukes," Sam said. "If he shows up, we cap his trash. That simple. Fricking magic tattoo bullshit. I've got a magic tattoo. It's a frog with a banjo and it's on my ass. I got it in Singapore."

"Classy," Holly said.

"Wanna see it sometime?" he asked as he removed his can of Copenhagen from his armor and snapped his wrist repeatedly.

"I'll pass, thanks."

"There was something else. The Old Man warned me. He said we're going to have a big fight today. He didn't say what, but I got the impression it was going to be bad."

"Figures. Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Lee? Give everybody the rundown on what we've gotten from the archives," Harbinger ordered, "anything that might prove useful."

"Sure." The diminutive Hunter cleared his throat. "There were no records of a conquistador general named Lord Machado anywhere. There were, however, some signs pointing to what was called the lost expedition. Early in the 1500s, the very first group dispatched into the interior, same basic area where Orellano would later discover the Amazon, but this group was never heard from again. All of the records about this expedition were destroyed by the military governor at Isle of the Cross, which is what they called Brazil back then. Even Walter Raleigh mentioned this lost expedition in his writings about El Dorado. Looking at what Owen has told us, I'm betting that was Lord Machado's group."

"What about the artifact or the Old Ones?"

"Just vague references to great and terrible evil. Lots of old Hunters have mentioned it in their writings, but I get the impression that none of them really knew what they were. Byreika's journal had the most about them."

"And?"

"Eldritch horrors, to paraphrase some Lovecraft. Horrible things that date back to before mankind, real serious, evil bad stuff. About the artifact itself? Byreika thought that it predated this world and was from somewhere else. I was kind of lost on that part. The journal was in Polish and I had to use a computer translator. It can be kind of hard to understand."

"He isn't much better in person," I mumbled.

"The first people recorded to have had it were the ancient Middianites, followed by the Assyrians. How it wound up in South America is anybody's guess. Supposedly it grants the user the power of the Old Ones. Control of time, space, energy, matter, that kind of thing. Anybody who tries to use it dies, unless you are one of the special people."

"Special?" Holly asked. "Like they ride the little bus to school?"

"No, I can't think of a better word for it. Once in a while someone comes along who has the ability to actually use this thing. Since the world is still here, we can assume that none of them have been successfully united with it yet. Except, of course, Lord Machado."

"The prophecy from my dream," I thought out loud. Just thinking about the black obelisk in the unnatural cavern made my skin crawl.

"Anything else?" Harbinger asked.

"Just that if this thing is activated by the right person, which we've got, and the right time, which is apparently tomorrow night, at the right place, which according to Ray Shackleford is right here, then we're pretty much boned. Stop them, and we save the world."

"Good thing," Milo said as he spit some sunflower seeds into a paper cup. "I like the world. It would suck to blow it up. Especially since I'm engaged now."

"What? Get out of here!" Harbinger said. "No way." Most of their team had a similar reaction.

"Who?" Julie asked. "I didn't even know you were dating."

"I bet I know," said Sam. "I bet it's that hot little scientist chick we rescued when we killed that mutant shrieker lizard in Guatemala. What was she again? A crip-to-whatsist?"

"Cryptozoologist," Milo said. He looked slightly embarrassed at the attention. "Shawna studies undiscovered animals. It's been a long-distance relationship. I kind of popped the question. She said yeah. You know…"

"Why didn't you tell us, man? That's great news," Harbinger said.

"I was a little distracted, what with the forces of evil, and the freighter, and the undead, and the elves, and the gargoyles, and the Feds, and stuff."

"Land… Gub Mint below. Land now." Skippy's gravelly voice came over the radio. "Good Milo. Find wife… Now should get… more wifes… only one wife… make for… lonely warrior."

"I'll take it under consideration, Skip," he said cheerfully.

"Take her down," Harbinger ordered. "Okay team. This is it. Stay frosty. Keep your cool around the Feds."

"Look who's talking," Sam murmured.

The Feds had set up a command post that could best be described as a tent city. And they had done it all this morning. In the distance, dozens of Mississippi state troopers blocked off the road. The members of MHI were greeted by uniformed National Guardsmen and led toward an enormous green tent.

The inside of the command tent was climate-controlled and sealed against chemical, biological and radioactive agents. It smelled faintly of new rubber and was bigger than most middle-class homes. An entire wall was covered in giant flat-screen televisions. Rows of computers were manned by military personnel or armored federal agents. Some of the screens showed real-time satellite imagery of the area in normal and thermal views. I could make out our helicopter parked on the grass. It was glowing bright yellow and red. Dozens of cameras must have been dropped over the Bottoms, showing several different shots of the swamp. Agent Myers was directing the circus, and for the first time since I had met him, he had ditched the suit and dressed for battle.

"Check the feed from the Predator drones. Send another one to parallel the Hatchie River. Have the AWACs divert all air traffic out of this area. I want those bombers in the air now. I want some with napalm, and some with penetrators if they're underground. Where are those Abrams?"

"They are on Seventy-Two, ETA fifteen minutes, sir," answered one of the Feds as he tapped away on one of the many computers. "They're passing through the town of Walnut."

"Good. We may need to steamroll something," Myers said as he nervously tugged at the straps on his armor.

"Sir? What about 'final option'?" asked one of the agents at a computer.

"Tell the Pentagon to scramble the B1. Have it ready. What's the payload on that?"

"We are cleared for low tactical yield. Five kilotons. Minimal radiation."

"Civilian casualties?" he asked.

"Within an acceptable level. This area is sparsely populated."

"Excellent," he said slowly.

"Holy shit. They're going to nuke Mississippi," Holly said.

Myers turned around. The National Guard lieutenant that had led us in saluted.

"Sir. Here are the guests you were expecting."

"About damned time, Earl. Where the hell have you been?"

"If you wanted us sooner, Myers, you should have sent a jet," he explained casually. "Are you really authorized to go nuclear?"

"I'm authorized to tow the moon down here and crash it into Earth if I think it would help," Myers answered sharply. "If you haven't noticed, somebody is planning on destroying all life on this planet. The President is willing to do what it takes to solve this problem, so as a last resort, yes, I'm ready to go nuclear."

"Say… when did they put you in charge of the Monster Control Bureau anyway?" Harbinger asked. "When I saw you in Texas you were still just an assistant director."

Myers fixed my boss with a look that would have killed most people. I didn't know what it was, but there was certainly some bad history between these two men. "Last Friday," he answered sullenly. "I'm just interim director until the President appoints somebody else. I received the call, and a few hours later I hear from you that seven Master vampires just touched down. It's been a hell of a week."

"So that's why you've been cranky," Harbinger answered wryly.

The senior agent sighed. "Look. Are you going to take us to this Wendigo thing or not?"

"I'll do it. No vehicles, though. He isn't going to come out if there are vehicles, and you'll need to pull the air cover back."

"I guess I don't have much choice." Myers gestured toward one of the screens, a real-time satellite feed of the Natchy Bottom area. Most of the picture, including the area that we were currently in, was perfectly and surprisingly clear. The center of the screen, however, was fogged. "A billion dollars in equipment, and I can't get a clear picture of the interior of the Bottoms. No cameras will work more than thirty feet into the swamp. I'm reduced to talking to Indian fairy tales."

"You know how Natchy Bottom is. It don't obey the same rules as the rest of the world."

"I know. All right then, let's get this over with."

The roof of the tent began to rattle as the rain started.

"It was clear five minutes ago," Lee said to me anxiously.

"Welcome to Mississippi," I answered.

The Monster Control Bureau men were honed and ready. Picked from elite military units and trained to a standard far surpassing our own, every one of them appeared to be chiseled from solid muscle and rock-hard bone. They made my team look a little dumpy.

"Agent Franks, ready the men," Myers ordered as we approached the waiting group.

Franks gave me a slight nod of recognition when he saw me. He emotionlessly returned to his men. "Listen up!" Franks shouted. The thirty black-armored men snapped to attention, weapons bouncing in their slings, magazines and explosives clanking. They regarded us with steely eyes. Some were bruised from their brief encounter with MHI the day before. Harbinger ducked under an overhanging tarp and nonchalantly lit a cigarette. The cold drizzling rain quickly soaked us all to the bone.

"Pay attention, men." Myers spoke loudly, but rather than resembling a military leader rallying the troops, he still made me think of a college professor giving a lecture. "We are going into Natchy Bottom. This is possibly one of the most dangerous places in the world. Once we get into the swamp, you will need to keep your wits about you. Things are not always what they seem in the Bottoms. It is an intersection of all that is wrong in the universe. Do not fire until I or Agent Franks order you to do so. We are searching for the Cursed One and seven Master vampires."

Some of the men began to mutter and shift nervously. I was glad to see that. They may have been hard-charging warriors, but at least they weren't stupid about it.

"Don't worry, men. We are not going in looking for a fight. Right now we are going in to speak with one of the creatures in the swamp. It will provide us with the location of the enemy, and they will be dealt with using overwhelming force," Myers assured them. "Even Masters are not so tough when you carpet-bomb them."

"We might have a man in there, Myers," Harbinger said coldly.

"Then you are more than welcome to go in and rescue him before the air strike," Myers answered. "Nothing personal, but I'm not risking thirty good men for one of yours." The agent continued, "The ten individuals standing behind me, some of you already may have made their acquaintance-" A few of the bruised Feds nodded sullenly. One of the men that had beat down Trip made a thumping motion with his fist. "-are from MHI. They are here to make contact with the swamp creature and extract information. After that, they get out of the way. Earl, if you would tell us about this creature, please?"

Harbinger tossed his cigarette to the ground, giving up because of the soaking rain. "It's a Wendigo. If you see something ten feet tall and real scary looking, don't shoot at it. You'll make him angry."

"Any questions?" Myers asked.

"Sir, how are we supposed to work with these people? We've got three men in the hospital because of them." The agent who asked that had a bandage over his nose. He glared at me when he spoke. It wasn't my fault he didn't know how to block.

"You will do as you're told," Myers said coldly.

One of the agents raised his hand. "What about sensor arrays?"

"They don't seem to work in the Bottoms. We will take our portable gear, and hopefully we will get some reception the deeper we get, but I would not count on it."

Another agent asked, "How about the robots?"

"Same thing. We can't count on electronics in the Bottoms. The last thing we need is for one of their sensors to mistake some of us for undead and blast us. The recognition software only runs ninety-eight percent in optimal conditions."

"Air support?"

"Not until after we speak with this Wendigo thing. We can call them in if we have an emergency."

"Armor backup?"

"Abrams are en route, and will arrive shortly. However, they will not be able to operate in most of the terrain. Ground is too soft."

"What a bunch of babies," Sam whispered to me. "We don't ever got none of that cool stuff."

"Jeez, Milo, how come we don't have killer robots?" Julie asked.

"You write the check," he answered.

"Attention team. Form up. Franks has operational command. I will remain at the command center in radio contact." Myers signaled toward his second in command. "Which way, Earl?"

Harbinger pointed towards the heart of the swamp.

Natchy Bottom was a still and unnatural place. The small amounts of ground were soft and treacherous. Long patches were covered in dank, fetid water, thick and overgrown with gnarled trees and thorned vines that grabbed and clutched at you. Roots and other unknown items were always underfoot, waiting to cause the unwary to stumble. The rain dripped down through the thick canopy of trees. It was early in the morning, but it was dark inside the Bottoms.

"Welcome to Dagobah," Trip joked.

"You are such a geek," Holly retorted.

I swatted a mosquito that landed on my cheek. It splattered bloodily. It was as big around as a dime. I swore under my breath.

"Just wait until we get done and you check for leeches," Sam said. "You can have hundreds of those suckers on you and not know it."

"And ticks. Don't forget the ticks," Milo added.

"Don't pay them any attention," Julie said. "The leeches and ticks here are big enough that you'll feel them when they latch on."

"Good," I answered. "I don't want to waste my time with wussy insects." I adjusted Abomination and forded on into the waist-deep muck.

The agents had broken into three teams, with MHI bringing up the rear in a rough diamond pattern. The agents moved like ghosts through the trees. They communicated totally with hand signals, and had drilled to the point that each team was a seamless blending of skill. I had to admit, they were impressive in action.

Then there was us.

"Wow. Did you see the size of that snake?"

"That wasn't a snake. It was a log."

"Hey, are there crocodiles here?"

"Alligators, moron. Crocodiles are in Africa."

"No, they aren't. Those are in Australia."

"Well, actually they're in both."

"You can tell the difference by the snout. I saw that on Animal Planet."

I idly wondered if the Monster Control Bureau were hiring.

Harbinger tapped me on the shoulder. "Do you sense anything?"

"No. It's just creepy. Why?"

"You've felt the Cursed One. You know him better than the rest of us. I just hoped you would know when he's near."

"Oh… Hey, Earl," I whispered. "I've got a question for you. How come we don't move like the Feds? All quiet and fast. We're just kind of clumped up and shooting the bull."

"Seems kind of unprofessional in comparison, don't it?" he asked. I nodded. "Well, let's look at this for a moment. I've been doing this kind of thing for a real long time, so I'm going to let you in on my philosophy." He lowered his Tommy gun and ducked under some puncture vines. "See how those guys are all intense? Real quiet like?"

"Yeah."

"All of them learned how to fight against human beings. Monsters are different. I bet most of those guys are multiple-combat vets. Were we to fight them, we would get our asses kicked, because they know how to fight people."

"You got them pretty good last night."

"Element of surprise, Owen. If I were to try that again they would pump my guts full of lead. Now here's the thing. They're moving like they're up against things with the same senses as them. I've got bad news, if the Masters are in this swamp, they already know we're here. And as far as being quiet so they can't sneak up on you, if a Master wants to sneak up on you, they are going to do it. Doesn't matter who you are. Well, with a few exceptions." He nodded toward Skippy and his brother Edward.

They were slightly apart from the group, heads cocked as they listened intently and sniffed the air. The two orcs were dressed in black and wearing their balaclavas, though they had ditched their glasses. Their yellow eyes studied the trees and the murky water with great interest. Skippy cradled an old AK47, adorned with feathers and small animal bones, while Edward's hands were empty, but with a pair of short swords strapped over his back. He looked like a ninja.

"How come Ed doesn't have a gun?"

"He's a lousy shot… Anyways, now those boys. They're our early warning system. Ed goes for his sword. Get ready. Orcs sense things different than us."

"And what about you?" I asked seriously. Obviously Harbinger had some gifts that were not normal.

"Me? I've just got more experience is all… Don't dwell on it." He chuckled. "Back to your question, now here's the real difference between us and the Feds. They always act like that. We're not creatures of habit. We can tailor our behavior for the situation. If we need to be quiet, we can be quiet. If we need to be fast, we can be fast. But have you noticed the biggest difference between us and them?"

"They're jerk-offs?"

"Besides that."

I thought about it for a moment. I watched as one of the Feds scurried behind a patch of stunted trees. He scanned around him nervously, the barrel of his stubby F2000 poking around quickly as he heard the splash of a small swamp animal. Relieved, he quickly moved on.

"Some of them are terrified," I answered.

"Bingo. They're quiet. But that means they can't talk to their team. That means that their minds are totally on their surroundings. And if you ain't noticed, we're strolling through one of the most evil places in the world. A place like this gnaws at your mind. You start to see things out the corner of your eye. Pretty soon you're seeing ghosts, and I ain't talking about the friendly kind like you've got riding around in your head. I mean the bad kind that are jealous of the living, and want you to be just as miserable as they are. While those Feds are getting nervous and jumpy, their minds playing tricks on them, when it comes time to throw down, we're going to be just fine. That's why you see my team shooting the bull."

"It keeps their minds off of all this." I gestured at the drizzly blackness. As I concentrated on the swamp, I could feel the chill, the cold, the eons of hate, and the ancient evil that lay under the murky water. I looked away and turned back to my team. "I'm with you."

We continued on, drenched by the splashing mud and the drizzling rain. It was summer, but it was probably only forty degrees inside Natchy Bottom. I was shivering beneath my heavy armor. I did not envy the smaller Hunters who lacked my insulating body fat. Who's laughing now, skinny people?

The deeper we got into the swamp, the darker and more sinister it grew. After an hour of walking, the radio finally crackled. We had previously tuned into the Feds' secure frequency. "This is Alpha team. We have a contact. There are some huts on a little island. One hundred yards south of us. They appear to be inhabited. Huts have some sort of light source, and there are some cooking fires. Over." Our team halted, waiting for more information. I used the opportunity to spray more bug repellant onto my exposed skin.

"This is Delta," replied Myers. "Investigate. Proceed with caution. Over."

Harbinger scowled and his nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. Our leader looked uneasy as he studied the surrounding swamp. He looked to Skippy and Edward. The orcs studied the air. Skippy shook his head in the negative. Harbinger got on the radio.

"Belay that order, Alpha team. Do not make contact."

"MHI, get off my radio net," Myers snapped.

"What color are the lights in those shacks?" Harbinger asked. "I bet they're green."

"Uh… This is Alpha. The lights are green. I repeat green. Over."

"Fall back, Alpha. Fall back unless you want to get the marrow sucked out of your bones."

"This is Delta. Alpha, ignore that order and check out those structures. Over."

"Myers, you dumb ass. Pull your men back or you're going to lose a whole team. And then we're going to have to waste a day messing with the things on that island, and they don't have anything to do with what we're after. Alpha team, listen up. If you step foot on that island, you're dead men. By the time we get over there, they'll have skinned you and eaten your eyeballs right out of your heads." He let go of the mike, and then thought better of it. "Over," he added.

"What are they, Earl?" Julie asked with some concern. He just held up a hand and waited for Myers' response. A minute passed.

"This is Alpha. What should we do, sir? Over."

Finally Myers responded. "Fall back, Alpha. Ignore the structures for now. Mark them on your GPS for future investigation. Over."

"It's your funeral," Harbinger said into the radio.

"What are they?" Trip asked nervously.

"Humboldt Folk," he explained. Most of the Hunters looked at each other in confusion. Only the senior Hunters nodded in understanding. "They just want to be left alone is all. Alpha team is lucky they didn't set foot on that island. The Folk don't let trespassers leave. Ever."

"No, Earl. You forget something. We're real lucky our team isn't the one that happened across it," Julie corrected him. "They wouldn't leave their circle to attack Alpha. They're all male. For us they might have made an exception."

"What do you mean?" Trip asked quietly.

"The Folk tend to run real short on fertile females," Julie answered. She quickly checked her weapons. "Holly, if you get attacked by some strange-looking people with a green glow about them… save your last bullet for yourself." She was not joking.

"What are they?" Holly asked. She held her. 308 Vepr and scanned the surrounding trees.

"What were they is a better question," Harbinger responded, "and that's a story that I'm going to save for when we're standing in a warm sunshiny place. Come on, team, we're wasting daylight."

Somewhere in the distance strange animals cried.