Monster Hunter Vendetta (53 page)

The creature shook as it laughed. The sound was utterly emotionless. "He's with your brother."

What? Holly and I exchanged glances.

"I hid during the initial assault. My attempt on Harbinger had failed and I waited for an opportunity to redeem myself rather than return to the Exalted Order in shame. I sensed the presence of the acolyte known as Torres. So I freed him. In his wisdom, he suggested that I take your form so we could get close to one of your loved ones. Torres will go far in the Order. I found your brother and asked him to follow me to the basement. Torres led him into the tunnels. They are gone now, surely reunited with the High Priest by now."

I stumbled back in shock. Mosh? Gone. I could envision this creature leading him away. Mosh would have trusted what he thought was me. He would never have even guessed. It had to be lying. Mosh had to still be upstairs. "You bastard. I don't believe you!"

"Believe it, hairless monkey. I'm sure he will be contacting you soon. I returned here to try and finish my assignment. I was to neutralize Harbinger. When I found that the High Priest had already dealt with him, I fled. That's when you caught me."

It was telling the truth. Mosh was gone. They'd taken my brother. Rage darkened my vision. My boot collided with the doppelganger's chest. It flew back, crashing violently into the floor. The creature emitted a high-pitched squeal. I kicked it again, shattering the back of the chair against the concrete. "Where?" I put the boot to it, stomping the monster over and over. It felt spongy, but something hard cracked on the inside. "Where's my brother?"

"Z!" Holly shouted. "Calm down. We don't know what kind of abuse this thing can take."

"Where's Hood?" The impact of my steel-toed boot slid the doppelganger across the floor. I kicked it again.

Holly grabbed one of the straps on my vest and tried in vain to pull me back. "Stop it!"

I paused, fists clenched tight, breathing hard, seeing red, stomping back and forth, hot air blowing through my nostrils. This thing had my brother.

Slumped on the floor, it laughed at us one final time. "Go suckle your warm-blooded young, filthy mammal," it hissed. "My work is done." It made a rattling noise and the protruding eyes flopped limp.

Unclenching my fists, I glanced at Holly. She looked back at me, shocked. "Did I kill it?" She shrugged. It was more like it had just given up the ghost after taunting me. "Oh crap
.
.
.
what do we do now?"

There was no time to contemplate that question. The door flew open with a bang. It was Sam Haven. Trip was right behind him. "We've got a problem," the burly Hunter said quickly. He didn't even seem to notice the doughy monster lying dead on the floor.

"Sorry, Sam, I think I killed it," I responded.

"No. Some of the cultists survived. They've regrouped the remaining undead."

But that didn't make any sense
.
.
.
with the ward in place they couldn't touch us.

Trip was panicked. "They're burning the orc village!"

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 & 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?"