Monster Hunter Vendetta

Chapter 18

A horn was blowing.

The sound echoed across the compound, a plaintive wail, coming from the direction of Skippy's village. The sun was rising over the hills and a thick plume of black smoke was rising from the nearby forest. I leapt into the back of a waiting pickup truck. Trip, Holly, and Sam were right behind me. I slammed my palms down on the truck roof and shouted, "Go! Go!" to the unknown Hunter who was driving. The truck lurched forward, threatening to knock us down. We tore across the red dirt, dawn's first light turning us into long shadows. Dust hung in the air from vehicles that had left moments before us.

I stared at my companions. All three of them were dazed. An attack on us was one thing, but the orcs? There were children there. We bounced onto a narrow forest road, forcing all of us to duck to avoid the stinging branches.

Sam caught my glance. "A bunch took off as soon as we heard the war horns. Skippy and their warriors weren't home. They were helping us," he shouted. "Cheating, rat-bastard sons a bitches!" Furious, he slammed one meaty fist against the side of the truck.

The tribe had lived with MHI for years, they could have settled inside the boundary of the compound and the protection of its warding, but they were too uncomfortable around humans to ever live inside our walls. Their people had been persecuted for generations, and even though they considered themselves part of our clan, they preferred solitude.

They just wanted to be left alone.

The air smelled like smoke.

The orc village was just a circle of simple prefab houses, decorated with antlers, animal skulls, and feathers. It was where Skippy's people lived under the protective umbrella of their adopted clan, MHI. They had come here as refugees, and Harbinger had taken them in. They had made this their home, safe from the world that saw them as freaks and monstrosities. I had been here many times. I'd eaten their food, drank their drink, played with their kids, and listened to their music.

It had been a peaceful place.

Not anymore.

The truck locked up the brakes as we entered the clearing. I leapt over the side before we had even slid to a stop, Abomination ready to dispense some vengeance. The wooden homes were burning, crackling as the flames devoured everything in their path. A giant warg lay dead at my feet, eviscerated by steel claws. Hunters were moving around the houses.

There were more corpses near the homes. Most were Hood's automatons, as even orc women and children knew how to defend themselves, but some of the crumpled bodies were smaller and dressed all in black.

"Status!" Sam shouted.

A Hunter, so covered in soot, ashes, and blood that I couldn't even recognize who it was, stepped forward. "Undead destroyed. A handful of cultists are escaping through the forest. We've got men after them."

"Casualties?"

His name tag read Southunder. "I… I don't know how many people lived here, but it looks like most of them escaped into the woods. But some tried to stay and fight. They… they…" The Hunter couldn't finish his sentence. He had a Utah County MHI patch on his arm, a werewolf with a gun. I'd heard that our Utah team had an orc volunteer on it too, someone who'd grown up in this very village. "I can't believe this."

"There were probably two dozen kids that lived here," Trip said slowly.

I stumbled toward the bodies. Other Hunters were efficiently chopping the heads off the undead and checking for survivors. There weren't any so far. The smoke was burning my eyes, and involuntary tears cut a path down my cheek.

This was my fault.

A warg and rider tore into the village. The black-clad figure leapt from the beast's back and ran, tripping, and sprawling next to one of the dead. The orc clawed his way forward, lifting the lacerated little body into his arms. He let out a howl of anguish.

It was a massacre.

"Survivor!" a Hunter bellowed from the far side of the clearing. She was carrying a small form in her arms. Holly, who was a decent medic, ran to help. I watched helplessly as she applied a tourniquet to the young orc's leg. The foot was just gone.

In an utter state of shock, I found myself trying to assist. Someone pressed a plastic five-gallon bucket into my hands. We managed to use the orcs' well to douse the flames. I kept throwing water onto the fires in a complete daze, bucket after bucket, in a futile attempt to do something.

The warriors and healers who had come to help at the compound returned, all of them in various states of despair, fury, and grief. Skippy immediately began to bark orders in their hoarse language and the others responded quickly, fanning out into the trees to search for more survivors.

They were a simple people. Brave, good, strong, kind… They didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

There was a shriek as someone made a discovery in the trees. One of the wargs had picked up the scent and tracked down some of the fleeing orcs. A figure came out of the forest, waving at us, and I could tell it was a female only because of the burkha. A group of short, stubby children emerged behind her. Some of them had lost their masks, and tears rolled down their green cheeks. They were terrified, disheveled, clothing torn and dirty from their flight through the trees.

Skippy ran forward and engulfed her in his arms. One of his wives had led most of the children to safety. Three of the kids charged forward and hugged Skippy's legs. I tossed one more bucket of water onto the smoldering ashes. The fire was under control, but it was too late for the once-proud village. My injuries were just a dull background throb over the hurt in my soul. My brother was gone, Julie was cursed, Earl was dying, Skippy's people were decimated, and all because of one fanatic on a mission. All because of me.

Sam grabbed me by the arm and pointed back toward the road. "Feds are coming."

"The orcs have been through enough. I'll keep those assholes out of here," I spat as I threw the bucket on the ground. A black Suburban was pulling into the clearing and I moved to intercept it. The last thing these people needed was the presence of an entity that terrified them-the government.

The passenger door opened and Agent Myers stepped out. It took every bit of self-control I had not to snap Abomination to my shoulder and pump a round of buckshot into his face.

"Pitt! What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Turn around and get back to the compound," I ordered. "Now."

Archer got out of the driver's seat, obviously shocked at the carnage. Myers glared at me. "My men are in control of the compound. This is an official investigation, and I need to know what's-"

I got right up in his face. "Get out! Don't you get it? These people are scared of you. They've got more important stuff to deal with right now."

"Stand down," Myers said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No! You stand down!" I shoved him back into the Suburban. Myers was shocked that I dared to lay hands on him, and the evidence was in the two soot-black handprints on the breast of his cheap suit. "I'm done standing down, asshole!"

Archer moved his hand to his gun. Sam cleared his throat, and the skinny agent glanced over his shoulder to see the big Hunter standing there with a. 45–70 cradled in his arms. "Let's let those two settle their beef. Know what I mean, kid?" Archer nodded slowly as he let go of the butt of his Sig.

Myers tried to dust the ash off his suit. He failed. "I can understand the anger, but if you touch me again, I'll make sure you go to prison forever. Do you understand me?"

I jerked my thumb toward the grieving orcs. "This is your fault. You took your problem and made it ours, you coward. You lied to us, used us…" I was enraged, shaking. I shoved him again. He collided with the Suburban. Myers flinched on impact. "Torres, the asshole scumbag you brought here, he took my brother. My brother! You-"

Despite his mild appearance, Myers was shockingly fast on the draw. The barrel of his revolver appeared under my chin. I froze. He cocked the hammer. "Calm down." The muzzle was cold against my skin. I was breathing hard, nostrils flaring with each breath as I contemplated snatching his gun and killing him on the spot. The hardness in Myers' eyes indicated that I would fail. "Listen to me very carefully, Pitt. This isn't a game. You think I wanted this? You think I wanted these creatures to get hurt, for your family, for MHI to lose men? Of course not. But this is bigger than that, bigger than you, bigger than me. You have no idea how hard the choices are that I have to make."

"Only when you choose wrong, you're not the one paying the price."

"I'll pass that along to Agent Herzog and my men who died at the amphitheater." He slowly removed his Smith amp; Wesson 610 from my neck. A crowd of orcs were regarding us warily. I had no doubt that if Myers had shot me, they would have torn him limb from limb, and he knew it too. He carefully lowered the hammer. "We'll leave your precious monsters alone. I know I'm their bogeyman. Take a walk with me, Pitt. I think you need to understand what's at stake here."

Myers and I stopped at the entrance to the clearing. It was quieter here, but I could still hear the lamentations of the tribe. I was furious. Myers holstered his revolver and pulled out a pack of smokes. He offered one to me. Resisting the urge to cave his skull in, I shook my head.

"I'm trying to quit," he explained as he lit the cigarette. "Ironic. It was working with Earl that got me hooked on these stupid things. The good old days…" Myers chuckled. "Looks like they've come back to haunt us."

"You know about Hood, then?"

"Franks briefed me." He shook his head slowly. "I can't believe it."

"Well, you better."

"No… That's impossible. Marty Hood was a good man." I could sense the consternation in his voice. He really couldn't wrap his mind around the truth. Myers continued, "He was my friend. Nothing like this cult leader. The Condition is brutal, efficient, psychotic. They'll stop at nothing to reach their goals."

"So that's why you stuck one of their acolytes with me?"

He shrugged. "I saw an opportunity and took it. There were only a handful of my men who could have sold out Agent Patterson. Investigating them turned up nothing. If I questioned them outright, then they'd know I was onto them, and we'd lose our opportunity. But I knew that they wouldn't be able to resist taking a shot at you." He waved his hand across the clearing. "I just didn't expect this level of response."

I had to fold my arms across my chest. Every fiber of my being wanted to murder him. "You just expected them to pop me. Not a full-on assault."

"Correct." Myers said, stone-faced. "Don't look at me like that. You would have done the same thing."

"No. I still have my soul."

Myers tossed his smoke down and ground it out with his wingtip. "When the President himself tells you to stop a death cult, no matter what the cost, then your perspective changes a bit. The Condition is getting ready for something big. Something devastating, called Arbmunep. We don't even know what it is, some sort of secret weapon, but it's coming soon. All our intel indicates that this is an Extinction Level Event. Do you know what that even means?"

I shrugged. It sounded pretty bad.

"Poof. Done. Mankind's done. We're like the dinosaurs. I'm personally responsible for the defense of my country, and I've got the things from Lovecraft's worst nightmares knocking on the door… A soul? You say I don't have a soul? That's a luxury for people who don't have my responsibilities. People who live in the suburbs and take their kids to Little League and walk their dogs have those. I can't afford a soul."

There was more yelling from the direction of the village as some of the Hunters returned with more survivors. "What are you going to do about my brother?"

"My men are interrogating some of the surviving cultists now. I've got others tearing apart the trucks and undead looking for forensic evidence. All this material came from somewhere. We have access to the best intelligence databases in the world. The Condition's tipped their hand. You can't stage an operation of this scale and not leave clues. We'll track them down for sure."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted results now. "Earl will be gone by then. Mosh will be dead."

"I'm sorry about them, really I am. But we're doing everything we can. I can promise you this: we will bring these people to justice."

"Justice isn't good enough."

There was a sudden commotion from the orc village. A group of Hunters walked out of the trees, dragging a few robed cultists behind them. Myers perked up. "Good. More people to question."

There were three prisoners. Their black robes were torn and muddy. One of them was obviously injured. The Hunters stepped aside as several orcs approached. One of them had a pair of swords on his back, so I recognized Edward immediately. One blade flashed from its sheath as Ed stalked forward with single-minded determination.

"You want to question them, you better hurry," I suggested. Edward looked like he was about to do the slice and dice.

"Stop! Stop right there!" Myers shouted as he ran back toward the village. "Stop that orc!" Edward either didn't hear him or didn't care. The sword sang through the air and one man went down in a spray of blood. Ed was a super-efficient killing machine, but that wasn't his goal today. The cultist dropped to his knees, one arm missing at the shoulder. He started to scream and Ed took his other arm. "I need them alive!"

Ed paid him no heed. He drove his blade through the pelvis of the next cultist. These men had hurt his tribe. He was their best warrior, and default executioner. The Hunters understood this and stayed out of the way. That didn't help me get Mosh back though. Ed jerked steel through bone, grinding his sword back and forth, before tearing it violently free. That cultist fell, thrashing.

"Skippy, stop him," I bellowed. Skippy's goggled head dipped once in agreement. He raised his gloved hand and Ed complied immediately, perfectly still, sword tip inches from the last cultist's nose.

"Make this… good…" Skippy grunted.

I reached them a moment later. Myers was hesitant to get too close to Ed, who was like a statue, one sword unmoving in the last standing cultist's face. A single drop of blood fell from the tip of the steel. The one with no arms had passed out in a puddle. The other's bowels had been opened in half a dozen places. He was still crying, and probably would for quite a while.

Myers addressed the last uninjured man. "Tell me where to find your High Priest, or I'll give you to these… creatures."

He was a young man who looked more like a frat pledge than a cultist. His eyes flicked nervously to his dying companions, to the faces of the impassive Hunters, and then to the masked and circling orcs. Obviously terrified, he stammered, "I… I… can't."

"Yes… can," Skippy stated over the screams of the dying. The orc chief glanced down at the disemboweled cultist. The cries were annoying him. "Quiet bad human."

Edward responded instantly. His sword swung down, severing the injured man's head cleanly from his body and sending it bouncing across the dirt. The blade returned immediately to its space before the young cultist's nose.

Skip looked down at the twitching body. "Not mean for kill him, Exszrsd." He finished the sentence in his own incomprehensible language.

Ed shrugged, as if to say whoops. Ed was a literal kind of guy.

"Okay, don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" the cultist stammered.

"Talk!" Myers shouted. "Where is he?"

"If I tell you, he'll hunt me down. You can't stop him. He walks through the shadows! He owns the night."

"We can protect you," the senior agent said calmly. "I represent the government. We've got places that even he can't go."

There was a glimmer of hope. "You… you do?"

"Yes," Myers responded soothingly. "You help me and I can help you. What's your name, son?" Myers was a sly one, but then again, he had plenty of practice playing good cop to Franks' bad cop.

The cultist was terrified. His eyes crossed a bit as he looked down the length of the sword. "Chad. My name's Chad. I didn't know what I was getting into. You've got to believe me." He began to babble. "Some other guys told me about this church, and they could do all sorts of cool stuff, and if you did what they said, then you wouldn't ever die! And I saw it with my own eyes. You've got to believe me. I just wanted to have that power. But then they were doing all sorts of crazy stuff. I was scared of the High Priest, so I went along. I never wanted to hurt anybody."

Skippy shook his head. I had serious doubts that no matter what Myers promised, Chad was not going to leave this village alive. I almost felt bad for the guy. He was probably younger than me, inexperienced, stupid, and suckered into something way over his head. I noticed that he had a squid necklace, like a smaller version of the one Hood had been wearing. Maybe it was just the light, but it seemed slick and alive.

Myers continued, being as unthreatening as possible, which for him was saying a lot. "I understand. Chad, I give you my word. You give me a location, and I'll get you right into protective custody. I promise. Okay?"

Chad had started blubbering. "Okay." He nodded, obviously broken. Watching Edward mercilessly chop two of his buddies into bits probably helped. "I'll tell you everything I know." He took a deep breath and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "There's a place in New-" Chad looked down in sudden confusion. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He clutched at his throat.

The squid amulet's chain was shrinking. "The necklace! Get it off!" I shouted. Chad stumbled, fingers trying to get under the chain. I grabbed the cultist by the neck and tried in vain to grab it, but it slipped right through my fingers. He fell, eyes bulging out of his head, skin turning blue. He began to jerk as all the oxygen was cut off from his brain. The chain was slicing through the flesh of his neck like piano wire. "Damn it!"

It just kept tightening. The squid seemed to wilt and die. A few seconds later, the convulsing stopped. Chad's muscles tightened in one final spasm, then it was over.

I was on my knees next to the cultist, surrounded by Hunters and orcs. "What happened?" Sam Haven asked.

"Non-disclosure agreement from hell," I responded. Disappointed, Ed poked the cultist in the leg with his sword. No reaction. I knelt at his side, pulled my glove off, and felt for a pulse. He was dead.

Myers was rubbing his face in his hands. "He was about to talk."

"Apparently," I muttered. "You better warn your men before anybody else gets somebody to roll over." The senior Fed pulled out his radio. "Hood is in New something or other." I glanced over at Holly and Trip. They were looking to me for ideas, and I was fresh out. "Call headquarters. See if they-" A terrible pain tore up my arm and I shouted in surprise.

Chad's dead eyes were staring at me. His mouth was clamped onto my left hand. Blood was gushing past his teeth as he rent it from side to side. My blood.

"Aarrgh!" I jerked my hand away, tumbling to the ground. The zombie began to rise. Edward cleaved the top of his head off in a cloud of red and white.

"Z!" Holly screamed. I grabbed my hand. Blood drizzled down my arm. Trip tore my hand away and began dumping a bottle of water on the wound. There it was, clear as day, a serious bite mark.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Oh man…"

"Skin's broken!" Trip shouted. "Gretchen! Help!"

Zombie bite. One hundred percent fatality rate.

The healer pushed her way through the crowd. I started to rise, but she pushed me down with shocking strength. I could see the reflection of the wound in her mirrored glasses.

Impossible. It can't be.

"Can we cut his arm off?" the Utah Hunter asked.

"Oh, hell," I whimpered. But it beat the alternative.

Edward stepped forward, sword in his hand. I cringed, knowing that with that two-foot razor blade I wouldn't even have to take my armor off. The orc warrior looked to Gretchen for wisdom. If she gave the go-ahead, there would be no hesitation.

Gretchen shook her head. Ed lowered the sword.

"Amputation doesn't work," Holly said, her voice flat. I knew that she had an eerie ability to fall into a state of utter calm when she was really freaked out. "Just causes blood loss that kills the subject faster. The contamination spreads instantly through the nervous system."

I was hovering between disbelief and panic. Such a stupid Newbie mistake…

Sam kicked the body. "Maybe it wasn't a zombie," he said hopefully. "I've never seen a zombie animate that fast after death."

There was laughter. It seemed strangely out of place. The crowd around me all turned toward the unnatural sound. The group parted enough that I could see. The cultist with no arms was sitting up. "Of course you haven't seen anything animate that fast, fools." The squid amulet on his chest was glowing. His eyes were open but rolled back sightless into his head. "You've never dealt with my art before. Well, well, well, now isn't this just a happy bonus."

Hood. Somehow he was channeling himself through the dying cultist. Multiple guns lifted to eliminate the new threat. "Hold your fire!" I screamed. The Hunters didn't shoot, but they didn't lower their weapons. "What do you want?"

"I warned you, Pitt. Now you're coming into my world, whether you like it or not. The plague is in your blood now, chap. Game over." The voice came from the cultist's mouth, but the lips didn't move.

I struggled to my feet. "Liar!"

"Your body will try to fight it at first. As we speak, your temperature is rising, trying to battle the infection. Within a second of introduction it began taking over, traveling down every nerve, every vein, artery, and fiber. Your very DNA will be torn apart. Once your brain tissue is overwhelmed, the transformation will be complete. Your heart will stop and the only thing that will matter then is finding your next raw-flesh meal… Welcome to the family." I stumbled toward the cultist. "Look at that, dead man walking." Hood laughed again.

"Marty?" It was Myers.

The lolling head turned vaguely in the direction of the Fed. "Hello, Dwayne."

"No, it can't be," Myers sputtered. "What are you doing?"

"Fulfilling my destiny. You were my best mate once and one of the few who truly mourned me. I appreciate that. I always will. But you're in my way now, so you'll step aside if you know what's good for you." The cultist's head flopped forward, chin against his chest. "Nothing personal."

Hood wasn't here just to gloat. "What do you want?" I asked.

The body jerked, throwing the head back hard on the neck, rolling around on the shoulders. "Perceptive. I've won, but now the question is, to what degree will be my victory? Killing you, especially in such a horrid way, fulfills the letter of my orders, but I want to also fulfill the spirit. I have a covenant to live up to, and I don't make promises lightly. Come to me, Pitt. That way I can turn you over to the Great One itself. In exchange, I'll return your brother."

"How do I know he's still alive? I don't even know you've got him for sure."

The blood-soaked mud before the cultists ignited in a small flame. The flame traveled in a circle, like an old-fashioned dynamite string. The flame reached its starting point, forming a tiny circle. There was a pop and a splash in the mud. The flames flickered and died in the breeze. There were several small objects resting in the puddle.

Fingers.

"I'm sure Dwayne can print those for you if you like, but trust me, they belong to your brother. And he certainly won't be playing the guitar ever again. I never liked that kind of music; too-oh, what's the word I'm looking for? — Brash? Offensive? I prefer the classics…. Your call, Pitt. Die alone, hiding in your compound, or die for something useful. Give your life in one final act of mercy to free your brother and slake the thirst of my impatient god."

My pulse thundered in my ear. My face was flushed with heat. "Where?" I hissed.

"Return to this place in exactly one hour. It will take that long to prepare a portal large enough. Do not attempt any trickery. Only one person will be able to pass through the portal. Don't bother sending through a bomb-I'll see it coming and not open the gate on my side. Personally, I won't be close enough to the portal for it to matter anyway. I'll only open the portal for you. And as punishment I'll send your brother to the other side for the amusement of the Dread Overlord in your place. Do you agree to my terms?"

I was going to die. Mosh didn't have to.

"See you soon," I answered.

The cultist dropped limply to the ground as Hood's consciousness left him. Just to be on the safe side, several Hunters shot the body in the head.

It was quiet for a long moment as everyone in the clearing stared at me. It was just starting to sink in. I'd been bitten by a zombie.

"You can't do this," Sam said. "It's suicide."

Agent Archer joined us, pushing rudely past the orcs. He had a device similar to the blood sugar testers diabetics used in hand. "Hold still," he said as he pushed the needle against my neck. It made a hissing noise at it stabbed me. He pulled it away and studied the little screen, biting his lip. The whole group was totally silent, watching Archer and his little box for about thirty painful seconds. My stomach hurt from the fear. All I could hear was my breathing. A little red light began to flash on the tester. I lowered my head as the group began to murmur.

I'm dead.

Strangely, I was calm, staring at the mud. "No such thing as suicide if you're already dead, Sam. How long do I got?" I asked. The Hunters exchanged glances. "How long?" I shouted.

"Calm down, Z. Maybe it was… something else." Trip said. "Maybe it's wrong."

Archer cut in. "It's not a lycanthropy test. The zombie infection tester is always accurate."

My mouth was totally dry. I was so terrified it hurt to talk. "How long?"

Myers spoke up. "The longest a healthy person has ever lasted after being bitten was five hours. Most are done in under two depending on the severity of the… well, you know…" He wouldn't look me in the eye. He studied his shoes. "Sorry."

The old Hunter, Cody, carefully picked the fingers out of the mud. He also pulled up a short piece of rope. It had to be related to how the Condition's teleportation magic worked. "Maybe we can use this somehow?" I had no idea how, but he carefully stowed the rope too.

It was settled. "I'm going after my brother. Can you put a tracking device on me?" I suggested. Maybe my sacrifice didn't have to be in vain.

Myers pointed at my armor and then at my shotgun. "Already done. That's why we gave your gear back to you in Mexico."

I should have known. Any act of kindness from them had ulterior motives. "Well… hell…"

My friends were scared. They all knew that I was doomed. Nobody knew what to say.

"Let's get back to base. I've got an hour. I'm not going out without a fight."???

Time was running out.

MHI had taken a beating. Several Newbies had died during the attack, as well as one team lead, Williams, out of Kansas City. We had six others with serious injuries and over a dozen with various degrees of damage. The injured had been evacuated to the hospital in Montgomery. We were also missing our most experienced Hunter, since Earl was down with a demon trying to devour his mind. A group of us had gathered in the conference room to come up with ideas. Frankly, I didn't have any. More Hunters arrived every second. Word had spread quickly.

I hadn't even had a chance to explain to Julie what had happened, but by the time I had gotten back to the compound, somebody had already informed her of the zombie bite. She hadn't left my side since. It was a good thing that we were so preoccupied, because I honestly had no idea what to say. Sorry, honey, gonna die soon. Gotta go take care of some business. Sorry you're cursed by evil.

Instead I was standing at the front of the room while Milo used black electrical tape to tie row after row of green glow sticks to my armor.

"Telekinesis keeps taking out flashlights, but if he pops one of these, it just covers you in more diphenyl oxalate and hydrogen peroxide," Milo explained.

"Glowing crap," I said.

"Yes, glowing crap. Remember, you'll need to crack and shake when you need them."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Roll around or something."

"You look ridiculous," Sam said.

"Got a better idea?" I snapped. Knowing that you're counting down toward certain death makes you tense.

"Three hundred pounds of C4 shaped into a giant Owen doll," he muttered.

"Hood won't go for that. Nothing big or elaborate. We've already shot him, burned him, and blown him up. Even if he sees I'm armed, he's cocky. He'll think he can take me, so he'll let me in. Then maybe I can figure out a way to kill him." It was stupid, but it was the best that I had, and going quietly wasn't my style.

Holly had cleaned the bite, applied a bandage and wrapped my hand. It was an utterly useless gesture. What was I going to do, get an infection?

"Has anybody ever lived through a zombie bite?" asked Trip.

"Never…" Julie said. "I've never… never heard…" Her voice broke badly. "Sorry."

I reached over and squeezed her hand. I only had to be strong for an hour. She had to be strong the rest of her life. I was trying to not show it, but I was already feeling the effects of the bite. My stomach ached and my head hurt. My eyes grated in their sockets as they moved. It was like I was coming down with a bad flu.

The small length of rope was lying on the table. I had no idea where the fingers had ended up. On the bridge at Buzzard Island, Bia had thrown a bigger piece of rope on the ground, and it had turned into some sort of portal. That piece had also apparently led back to the shadow man's lair. Esmeralda was studying the cord intently.

"Do you really think we can figure out how to activate that thing?" I asked.

"Maybe," she replied. "I've heard of these things before. I read about them somewhere in the archives a long time ago. Where's Lee, already?"

"I'm coming," he shouted from the hallway. Our librarian hobbled in a moment later. He dropped a heavy book and a bunch of half-burned papers on the table, so preoccupied that it was as if he didn't even notice the rest of us. "I've got it. I cross-referenced it under dimensional gates." He opened it with a thump. "It works on the same principle, like a portable version of the door in DeSoya Caverns."

"That's awesome," Sam responded. "Can we turn it on and dump a strike force in the bad guy's lap or not?"

Esmeralda held up the rope and touched the ends together. It only made a tiny circle. "You got a team of attack leprechauns around here I don't know about?"

Sam punched the wall. He wasn't taking this very well. I was still strangely calm. Julie's little brother entered the room. He paused long enough to nod at me, but then looked away uncomfortably. It was like being a guest at your own funeral. A lot of people were struggling right now.

"The damaged papers are what's left of Ray Shackleford's notes that got burned during the Christmas party. There were things in there about portals. And this old book has a section on them too." Lee began flipping pages. "I'm trying to figure out if we can tweak this one, make it bigger or something, or even if we can turn it on, but this book was written hundreds of years ago. It's not exactly easy to understand, and I'm having to use a computer translator, unless any of you guys speak Renaissance German."

Milo looked over. "At least that one's got pictures…"

There were other pictures before Lee got to the magic rope section and one of them looked familiar. "Lee, stop. Go back a few pages… There. Milo, check that out."

Milo looked up from his glow sticks as he bit the end off the tape roll. "Hmmm… that's kind of like our ward stone."

Lee looked at it, puzzled. "That's what that is?"

Of course, he had never seen it. "Yeah, that's it. What book is that?"

Lee flipped it over. "If I'm reading this right, Principles of Alchemical Artifacts and Unnatural Philosophy. It has stuff about teleportation, animating corpses, alternate dimensions, immortality potions, that kind of thing… It was written by somebody named Konrad Dippel."

That name rang a bell.

Julie might have been in a state of shock, but she was also our best historian. "He was an alchemist, one of the really talented ones, a peer of Isaac Newton. It's possible that he would know how to make this teleportation thing work, if we could just decipher his notes."

"That's just awesome trivia, but it doesn't help us save Earl," Sam spat. "Sorry, Z, I appreciate what you're doing. Futile noble gesture, man, but I can't stomach letting you do this on your own."

"I know, Sam. If we're lucky the Feds' tracking device will work and you can come avenge me." I grimaced. I had to hang in there; everybody here needed me to stay tough. I couldn't break down yet. "Wait a second." I raised one hand. That disturbed Milo, who was busy shoving road flares in every pouch on my back. "Why's that name familiar? Dippel?"

Julie thought about it for a moment. "Well… Dippel's experiments on cadavers were carried out at the castle with the same name as the doctor in the book. A lot of people think he's the man who inspired Mary Shelley."

"Who?" asked Holly.

"The woman who wrote Frankenstein," Trip answered.

It clicked.

"Get Agent Franks."

We located Franks at the hangar where the Fed choppers were currently parked. The MCB had taken over the building and turned it into their command post. This pissed off a lot of Hunters, but the Feds played by their own rules and we were in no shape to argue. The main doors were open and I barged directly past the guards there. One of them moved to stop me.

"I need to see Agent Franks."

He automatically looked back into the open space. A twenty-foot-wide white tent had been put just inside the hangar door. There were figures moving around on the other side of the thin fabric. "I'll have to check."

A voice came through the fabric. "Let them in." Myers appeared around the corner of the tent. "How are you feeling?" he asked awkwardly. Knowing that I was ready to kick the bucket any minute had at least made him slightly humble.

"Oh, I'm just peachy. Thanks for asking." The dead automatons had been stacked neatly on the hangar floor in rows. Multiple agents were ripping them apart, looking for clues. "Where's Franks?"

Myers studied me for a moment. "He said you knew…" Then he glanced at the half-dozen or so Hunters standing behind me. "They wait here." Julie stepped up to my side. She didn't need to say a word as she gave Myers a look of utter coldness. He nodded once, understanding that she wasn't ready to leave me yet. "Fine, but what you're about to see is classified way beyond top secret. You have to take this to the grave with you."

"At least that won't take me long!" I exclaimed sarcastically. Julie visibly flinched. It made me feel guilty.

We followed Myers into the hospital tent. Several gowned and masked individuals were clustered over an operating table. Around them were beeping machines and a cart with various clean red organs stacked on it. The medical team parted as I approached. Franks was on the table. Myers had to look away.

The big man was a mess. His chest was cracked wide, held open with some sort of stainless steel device. A doctor stepped back, holding what appeared to be a damaged lung. Shockingly enough, Franks was awake and propped up on pillows. The fact that I could see his internal organs didn't seem to bug him any.

He slowly turned, eyes lingering on the bandage encircling my left hand. "Looks like I failed."

"Yeah, you did," I responded. "But let's make it count for something."

Franks dipped his head slightly. That was probably the closest thing he'd ever made to an apology.

"I need someone to help Lee and Esmeralda figure out how to reactivate Hood's teleportation device. We have a book that talks about that kind of device, written by somebody named Dippel. I have a feeling that you know something about his work."

The big man closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, I could see that they were still different colors, the blue one probably donated by some poor sucker from the concert. "Know his work? I am his work." Franks then addressed the doctor. "Wrap it up."

"But, sir, you still need another kidney, and you've also sustained damage to several major muscle groups. We need more time."

Franks looked at my hand again. He knew we were out of time. "Start stapling." The medical team complied immediately. Before they folded his chest closed, I noted that his physiology diverged wildly from anything I had ever seen in a biology textbook. There appeared to be extra organs and his ribcage was more of a hardened plate with flexible bits than separate bones. It was seriously weird. Franks caught me staring. "The taxpayers paid for some upgrades."

"So that's what you are…" Julie said. "You're Frankenstein's Monster."

"More than that," Franks snorted. "I hate that book. I'm no whiner."

I glanced at my watch. I had about forty minutes before I had to be back to the village. "Do you know anything about the magic teleportation rope?"

"No. But I understand his writings. Had to figure them out to stay alive. Good alchemist… Terrible father."

"It looks like he might have been the guy who built our ward stone too."

"Hmmm…" Franks frowned. That had thrown him off. "I didn't recognize it. I remember all the doctor's codes… Even the offensive ones." His thick brow furrowed in thought as the medical team literally screwed his chest together with terrible cracking noises. My already-nauseous stomach threatened to empty. "Sir, I have an idea."

Myers looked up from his corner. He was holding a handkerchief over his mouth. "You can't be serious."

"What are you thinking?" Julie asked. "Is there a magical way to save Owen?"

Franks' face was impassive as he squashed Julie's hope. "Nothing I know can help Pitt."

"I know what you're getting at…" Myers stepped forward, surprised. "The wards were manufactured as focal points of reality, deadly to other dimensional creatures. Isaac Newton and the alchemists created them to protect mankind from the Old Ones and…" He trailed off. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Agent?"

"A ward is a shield and a sword," Franks said simply.

Whatever he was suggesting rocked Myers, the man who had once ordered a nuclear bomb dropped on Alabama. "That could disband all cohesion!"

"Exactly," Franks responded. Whatever the hell that meant. Slowly he raised one big hand and held it out to me. "I can avenge you."

I shook his hand. He was unbelievably strong. "Kill them all."

Less than thirty minutes left.

Franks, Lee, and Esmeralda were working on the magic rope. MHI and the Feds were surrounding the village just in case. I had just enough time to make a few final preparations. I was strapping on every weapon in my arsenal when Milo lifted one final item from the table.

"This one is exactly like the one we used earlier when I fried Hood's butt," he explained as he pushed the sack into my hands. "You know those nasty little things kids use on the Fourth of July, the little hockey pucks that flash like a strobe light and hurt your eyes? Think of this as one of those on steroids from hell, only angrier. Don't look at it directly, or you will go blind. Well, it is pretty close to what we used earlier, so there should be about a twenty-second flash, but I was kind of surprised that one was actually a controlled burn and didn't just explode and roast us."

That made me feel particularly safe as I put the satchel over my armor.

Milo paused awkwardly. Then he hugged me. He patted me on the back a few times before breaking away. He looked like he was going to cry. "I'll go get the rest of your gear."

"Yeah, thanks, man."

Julie and I walked into the hall. My mind was reeling. This was the end.

"You okay?" I asked. It was an idiotic question.

"Of course not," she answered. "But it is what it is."

We stood there for a few seconds, huddled together in silence, which is an eternity when your remaining life is measured in minutes. But we were Monster Hunters. It wasn't like either of us hadn't ever thought about this before. I had always figured it would have been sudden though, with no time for long good-byes. This was much harder.

"There's something I have to tell you," I said softly. "In Mexico, when I talked to your mother, she warned me about the mark on your neck." Julie stiffened against me. "She said that it was going to kill you eventually. I didn't say anything because I was scared and I thought that she was just lying to us again… But with what happened last night…" I couldn't help but think about the three new marks. There was something terribly wrong, and I wasn't going to be around to help her through it.

Julie gave me a pathetic smile. "You've got other stuff to worry about right now, Owen. I'll take care of it."

I knew she would. Julie was strong, far stronger than me. No matter what happened, she would always find a way. That was just her nature. The year that I had known her had been the best year of my life, and I had somehow believed that it would go on like that forever. I held her tight as my heart ached.

Unable to contain it any longer, Julie began to sob. "I'd trade with you if I could."

"I know…"

In a little while, I would be dead and she would be alone, but I knew that she would survive. She would get on with her life without me, and someday, she would be happy again.

And knowing that gave me the strength to go on.

It was time.

Hunters were standing in a line down the hallway to see me off. Everyone was somber. Julie's grandfather saluted me with his hook. "Good luck, Hunter." I paused in front of the memorial wall. I was going to have a plaque up there soon.

Shit. I didn't want to die. I wasn't ready to have a plaque yet. This wasn't fair. I tried to think of something memorable to say, but didn't have the words. "Thanks, everybody. I'll try not to let you down." It was stupid, but it would have to do.

My mom came out of nowhere and intercepted me. She almost took me down in a tackle. She was totally hysterical, and her accent was extra thick when she was this freaked out. "What are you doing?" She pointed at my shotgun. "Where are you going with your Abominator?"

"Abomination," I corrected her. "Never mind. Look, Mom, I've got to go after Mosh. It's me for him."

"They told me you're dying, that something poisonous bit you. Why can't we go to the hospital?"

"It doesn't work like that, Mom. I have to do this."

She wouldn't let go of my arm. "No! Owen, please." Hysterical tears streamed down her cheeks. "No, son, please, no."

I wasn't tough enough to do this. I grabbed my mom by the shoulders. "Listen. I'm doing what I have to do. If I had any other option, I would be doing that instead. I'm already dead, but Mosh isn't. I'm going to get him back."

Then Dad was there. He took Mom in his arms and guided her away. He studied me while Mom screamed and thumped her fists into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I said.

"Don't worry. It isn't your time yet."

He was delusional because of that stupid letter. But at least he was calm while he kept Mom restrained. "I love you, Dad. I love you, Mom."

"We'll talk about it when you get back. Bring your brother home."

"I will," I promised. I just wouldn't be with him.

There was a grumbling noise off to the side. Gretchen was standing there, a tiny black shape squished between the hulking Hunters. Her totem stick was in hand, dangling feathers, beads, and small animal skulls. I had no idea why she wasn't with her people in their time of need. She spoke directly to Julie. It must have been something too complicated for Gretchen's poor English.

"Gretchen says we're part of the clan too…" Julie seemed puzzled, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire Orcish. She actually gave a very sad little smile. "Thank you, honey. That's really sweet."

"What's she saying?" I asked.

Gretchen switched to English. "Marry." She shook her totem stick. "Marry. Sad to die… alone." She reached into her burkha and pulled out a sheet of paper. She unfolded it. The notarized letter bore the state seal and declared that Gretchen F. Skippywife was an ordained minister in the state of Alabama.

"She's offering her services as a priestess of Gnrlwz," Julie nearly choked trying to say it correctly, "the orc god of war, to perform a wedding before you go." It took me a moment to digest. It was so absurd, so sudden, that despite everything else, all the fear, anticipation, and dread, I actually laughed. Julie started to giggle along with me. "You want to?"

It was just the kind of thing that Monster Hunters would do. Even when death was staring us right in the face, we'd still give him the finger. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Julie shrugged. "Well, this isn't how I imagined it at all… Do your thing, Gretchen. Grandpa, would you do the honors of giving me away?"

The old man stepped up, proud of his granddaughter. "Of course. And I was worried I'd have to wear a tux for this…"

The Hunters gathered around us in a circle, seemingly just as surprised as I was. Gretchen hissed and the crowd fell silent. Trip stood just behind me and off to the side, appointing himself as my best man. Holly, apparently, was Julie's maid of honor, only instead of flowers, she had a. 308 Vepr carbine.

Ironically, this was the spot where we'd shared our first kiss, right under a Latin phrase warning about the dangers of fleeting glory.

Gretchen had us get on our knees in front of the wall of memorial plaques. I took Julie's hand. This wasn't how I'd expected it either. My mom started to cry even harder and my dad put his big arm over her shoulder. Gretchen tapped us both on the forehead with her stick as she started grumbling something memorized and incomprehensible. She kept it brief. Orcs weren't big on ceremony.

I glanced over at Julie, she looked back at me, eyes shining bright. I loved her. And that one split second was exactly how I'd imagined it, and that made everything okay.

Gretchen thumped me on the forehead with the stick. "Grok?"

"I do."

Gretchen thumped Julie. "Grok?"

She looked into my eyes. "I do."

Gretchen raised her stick high overhead and screamed her devotion to the god of war. It was actually almost musical. She slammed the tip of the short staff hard into the floor, the impact resonating through the entire hall. I think that was when she pronounced us man and wife. She took the stick, pointed it at my nose, and gave me an order. I didn't understand a word that she was saying.

"She says that it is orcish tradition that the more you love your wife, the bigger the thing you need to kill for her as a wedding night offering," Julie translated. "She says Skippy killed a seventy-foot lindwyrm for her." Gretchen said more and Julie giggled again. "So she bore him many sons."

And just like that, I was a married man. I couldn't kiss the bride, because I was infected by a zombie, but other than that, it was actually a pretty happy moment. One of the Hunters even thought to take a picture.

Somebody started clapping. The two of us made our way through the cheering crowd. Dorcas was at her desk. I had never seen her cry before. She blew her nose with a sound like a trumpet. "Congratulations, I guess. See you 'round, Z." I got outside before anyone could see me completely break down. A mess of other Hunters were going to follow us to the village to provide backup. There was a car waiting.

Trip and Holly were riding with us, of course. I held the door open for my new wife. Trip reached over and thumped me on the arm. Holly gently rested her hand on my shoulder. Trip put the car in gear and we headed for the village. "It's been an adventure, guys," I told my best friends.

"It isn't over 'til the fat lady sings," Holly stated.

"Why all the tears then?" I asked.

"I always cry at weddings."

I stood in the spot where the last teleportation effect had taken place and checked my watch. Hood better not be late. I wasn't feeling very well. My head had started throbbing in the car and wouldn't stop. Cold sweat was leaking from every pore.

The orc village was deserted. The tribe had retreated to the relative safety of the compound. A dozen Hunters had formed a perimeter around the village and were just waiting. MCB agents had massed in force at the entrance.

My friends didn't want to let go of me. Trip had started to babble. "Dude, we'll be praying for you. I know that you're going to come back. It might take a miracle, but it's not like we haven't seen miracles before. God's on our side, man."

Holly was tougher. "Be strong, Z."

I stumbled away. Saying my farewells to the Amazing Newbie Squad of Yesteryear had been particularly painful. Trip was hurting. Holly was too, but she kept it bottled up behind a stoic mask. I noticed Trip starting to shudder, and Holly took his hand as they walked away.

Now it was just me and Julie.

"No matter what happens," she said. "I'll always love you."

"You were the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know." She tried to smile, but failed. "I can't… I don't know what to…"

"It's okay," I assured her. I stroked her face. My hand was trembling.

The earth shuddered. A few feet away, flames erupted from two points in the dirt, quickly burning outward, forming a circle just big enough for me to stand in. The ground inside seemed to disappear into darkness.

This was it.

"I love you." I couldn't even kiss her good-bye.

I broke away from Julie and stepped into the circle. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.