The M14 barked. Shooting while hanging out a helicopter isn’t the most solid of positions, so the scope rose with the recoil. I brought it back down as the shape moved past the car. I fired again, certain that I got it, but my third hurried shot punched a hole in the car’s front fender. I only got the briefest look at the creature, but it seemed insectlike, with long, terrible legs, and a body coated in thick, bristly hair. Only it was the size of a horse.
The monster scuttled around the corner of the building and was quickly out of sight. Four of the Germans went running after it. Their muzzles flashed as they got a clear shot.
There was a strange vibration on my chest. It took me a moment to realize that it was my phone. It was bad timing. They could leave a message.
“Owen, answer your phone,” Holly ordered from up front.
“How—”
“Because one of the guys on the ground is making exaggerated phone motions like we’re playing charades and pointing at us.”
“Oh…” It took me a second to get to the right pouch. There was no way I could hear over the roar of the rotor, but apparently Lindemann had thought of that as well, and sent me a text.
Under control. It is ours.
“You greedy son of a bitch. Lindemann wants us to back off.”
Want to help? Police needs med evac.
I let out a long sigh of disbelief. “Skippy, can you land us close to that tow truck?” Skippy grunted an affirmation. I told the others what the message said. We’d just been monster blocked.
I’d unclipped and was ready to hop out by the time our tires hit pavement. Klaus Lindemann was waiting for me, wearing an odd suit of mottled gray-and-black body armor, with just a bit of a confident smile on his face. He was holding a G3K in one hand and my business card in the other. So that’s how he’d had my number. “I had hoped you were aboard. Thank you, Mr. Pitt, for your help,” he had to shout to be heard over the chopper. “However, we were first. We will take it from here.”
“My ass you will.”
“Your ass I will take from here?” Lindemann asked, totally sincere. “I am afraid I am unfamiliar with that expression.”
My crew knew what to do, and they’d all bailed out right after me. It took Holly the longest to get extricated from the front cockpit, but as our best medic, she went right over to the wounded man while Trip and Milo covered her. Edward sauntered over to stand behind me, still tucking swords into various places.
“We’re not here to poach your bounty, but you don’t know what that thing is. We’re coming with you.”
Lindemann paused to listen to his own radio. “It does not matter what it is, because it is disabled and soon to be dead. My men have it.”
“Z!” Holly ran over. “The cop’s in bad shape. Several bad lacerations and a shitload of blood loss. He needs a doctor now.”
“We applied a tourniquet,” Lindemann said. “The wound on his leg was very severe.”
Too bad Gretchen hadn’t come with us. Even if there was an ambulance on the way, we were in the sticks, and Skippy was still the fastest way out. “Load him in the Hind. We don’t know what hit him though…”
“Don’t worry. If he starts to change into something I’ll toss him out the door.” It was hard to argue with Holly’s brand of ruthless enthusiasm, plus Trip was already carrying him to the chopper, regardless of whatever I would’ve said anyway. “So unless he turns into a werebird, that should do the trick.” Holly went back to her new charge.
“I will make sure MHI is put in for an assist.” Lindemann tried to soothe me.
It didn’t work. “Damn right you will.” I walked back to the Hind, put Julie’s rifle back and took out Abomination. As nice as Julie’s rifle was, having my fat, mean, full-auto 12-gauge Kalashnikov with its silver inlaid bayonet and hefty grenade launcher was strangely comforting. “Because I’m going with you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Maybe it’s got a friend.” I turned away from Lindemann. Milo had come up behind me. “Get him to the hospital and update Julie. Trip and Ed are with me.” Edward patted a sword hilt to demonstrate he understood.
Milo nodded approvingly at Lindemann. “That whole parachute thing was pretty nifty.”
“Thank you.” Lindemann gave a little bow. “You must be Milo Anderson, the Edison of Monster Hunting, the DaVinci of creative destruction, or would that be destructive creation. Your work is legendary.”
I swear that Milo blushed. “Oh, totally exaggerated.”
“Give me a freaking break.” I was still in a bad mood about losing out on a ridiculous bounty by a matter of seconds. “Come on.”
Lindemann, Trip, and I made our way around the garage as the Hind lifted off and sped away with the rest of my team. It always seems extra quiet after you’ve been listening to the Hind and Skippy’s music when it was suddenly gone. The windswept desert was eerily still.
“Klaus Lindemann, this is Trip Jones,” I said, gesturing at my friend as he pulled off his ski mask. It was a lot warmer without the airflow. Trip shook Lindemann’s hand. “One of MHI’s best.”
“Now you’re just sucking up,” Trip replied with a smile.
“And this is Edward.” Of course, his mask stayed on. I hadn’t thought about how to introduce our orc, since it was supposed to be a secret that we had them. Thankfully, in the near darkness, the green skin and yellow eyes didn’t stand out as much. Ed didn’t offer to shake hands. “He’s our…administrative assistant.”
“I see…” Lindemann said, studying Edward and his many edged weapons, but not commenting further.
The creature’s trail was easy enough to follow in the snow, having left a chaotic pattern of two-inch-circumference holes in the snow. The boots of Lindemann’s men had obliterated many of the tracks. I recognized the little pockmarks in the snow as spots where hot brass had hit and immediately melted through.
“I can assure you, gentlemen. I would not cheat you out of the assist money. We run a scrupulous operation at Grimm Berlin. Mr. Harbinger, I have no doubt, would assure you of our integrity.”
“He’s spoken highly of you.” Well, he put them in the All Right category instead of the Asshole category, which was about as good a compliment as you could get from Earl Harbinger. “I don’t doubt you. More than anything I’m curious to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Ah, well in that case, we are in agreement.” There was a small wooden shed with a bit of light seeping out around the edges of the door, but we could see from the tracks that the monster hadn’t gone anywhere near it. Stepping over a chicken-wire fence and making our way through a dead vegetable garden, we found the other four Hunters at the side of the old trailer house. They were standing in a semicircle, rifles shouldered, weapon-mounted flashlights illuminating one spot on the ground at the end of the trailer. One of the Hunters called out in German, then immediately began to rattle off a bunch of information to his boss.
“They swept the house. Empty. There appeared to be a single occupant. An older man. The mechanic. Certainly the corpse that is now decorating the policeman’s automobile.”
As I made my way around the Hunters, I finally got a good look at the creature.
“That’s it?” Trip was incredulous.
It was a giant spider. Or what was left of one. It had been riddled with bullet holes. It was hunched up on itself, its exact shape hard to see. Trip’s reaction was understandable. Sure, a tarantula the size of a loveseat was terrifying, but not ten million dollars terrifying. By our standards, something like this wasn’t that abnormal, and depending on the size and severity of the infestation, was worth a few thousand bucks, tops.
“I do not understand,” Lindemann said. He barked a command at one of his men, who leaned into his rifle and cranked off several shots. The bullets struck, splattering the snow with bits and pieces of fuzzy meat. It didn’t even twitch. Certain that it was dead, Lindemann walked right up to it and shoved it with his boot. It rolled over on its back. The eight legs splayed open, revealing the damaged underbelly. Yellow guts rolled out into the snow. “Curious.”
He was thinking the same thing I was. “This is too simple. One of the guys from my Newbie class got a dozen of these things with a homemade bomb.”