Matt Archer: Monster Hunter (Matt Archer #1) (13 page)

The ATV purred along the trail. Mr. Cruessan liked his toys,
and we benefitted. The black four-wheeler we rode was Will’s own personal mode
of transportation—a hand-me-down from when his dad bought two new ATVs, both
bigger. With special, heavy-duty tires, Will’s ATV could drive through anything
but foot-deep snow, and it had a tight turn radius, making it perfect for
trekking through the woods. The four-wheeler made for a bumpy ride, especially
with me on back, but it beat hiking. Will even had an extra helmet for me.

Reflected in the headlights, the trees passed as shadows set
against a blur of pale gray and white snow. Thin clouds danced across the sky,
blocking out what little light the waning moon gave. This was both good and
bad. We’d have an easier time sneaking up on the monster since it was darker.
But the same could be said for it sneaking up on us.

I held the GPS in one hand and the seat rail with the other.
Our green dot made steady progress toward the coordinates Colonel Black had
given us. After driving five miles, we got our first sign.

“Will, cut the engine.” I shook his shoulder to make sure he
stopped. The stupid helmets made it hard to hear, but better safe than sorry.
It’d be difficult to explain that I’d failed to make a kill because I’d gotten
a concussion.

Will parked the ATV near a large pine and covered it with a
camo blanket while I put on the night-vision goggles to make sure nothing was
hiding, waiting to attack us. No heat signatures—all clear. I pulled off the
goggles and clicked on my flashlight, shining it across the trees.

The torn up deer I’d seen with Mike had been bad enough.
This time, it was a bobcat. Strewn around the gnarled roots of big spruces, and
hanging from the lower branches of pines, were the torn remains of meat and
entrails. The only reason we knew it was a bobcat was because the monster had
left its head behind; outside of that, there wasn’t a bit of its pelt, claws or
bones to be seen.

“Holy Mother of Brett Favre. Is that what I think it is?”
Will asked, looking like he was about to hurl our hastily eaten dinner of Kung
Pao chicken all over the snow.

“Unfortunately.” I closed my eyes, trying to block out the
image of ground meat stuck in the evergreen branches. “It also means we’re
getting close.”

The front pouch of my backpack flashed. The knife was
vibrating, waiting to hunt. I slid it into my thigh pocket, to keep it close.
“We hike from here.”

Will strapped on his backpack, fumbling with the clasps
because his hands were shaking. “The thing did that. It tore a bobcat into
hamburgers.”

I put a hand on his arm. “You knew this. You knew. Seeing it
makes it tough, but nothing’s changed, okay? This is the same as it was the
first time. Follow the plan…that’s it.”

“Follow the plan, right,” he said, with a jerky nod. “I can
do this.”

Will’s panic made me feel stronger, like holding him
together kept me from falling apart. I led him away from the ATV, examining the
brush around the slaughtered bobcat. Holding the penlight in my teeth, I got
down on my hands and knees to check for broken leaves or smudged moss.
Paw-prints, larger than Will’s size thirteen boots from heel to claw, were
distinct in the snow that had made it through the trees. The tracks led off to
the east.

I stood and shrugged my pack onto my shoulders. “This way.
Let’s go.”

The terrain was rough and the snow made things worse by
hiding holes and rocks. Both of us fell down more than once even though I kept
the pace slow. It took us thirty minutes to make the next mile, and we got
slapped by wet, snow-covered branches as we headed off the trail into the
deeper woods.

The further we went, the more concerned I became about Will.
He jumped at every rustle we heard, always twisting around to see if something
was behind us. We could get hurt if he got so scared he bolted at the wrong
time. I stopped him. “Listen, we can do this.”

“But what’ll we do if we can’t?” Will’s teeth chattered. As
warm as our coveralls were, I knew it wasn’t the cold.

“If something happens to me, stay hidden as long as you can,
then run like heck,” I said, giving him a level stare. “The knife only works in
my hands. You won’t be able to fight this thing by yourself. So if I go down,
you run—understand?”

He nodded and I started along the trail again. The thing was
close; the knife buzzed my pocket, almost like a warning. I motioned for Will
to creep along behind me, but he didn’t follow.

“Did you hear that?” Will whipped his head around.

Twigs snapped, pine needles crunched–something big was
plowing its way through the trees off to the right, bearing our direction.

“Get down, get down.” I shoved Will into a clump of bushes.
“Lay flat on your belly. Don’t move, not one inch.”

Will huddled to the ground. I spotted a mature pine across
the trail with branches low enough for me to climb. Sneak attack. If it was the
monster, I could drop on it, stab it in the back before it knew I was there. I
scaled the tree and made it halfway up before the monster came crashing through
the bushes right in front of Will. He managed to stay quiet, but I don’t know
how. I wanted to scream my head off.

Of course the moon picked that moment to shine a little
light down on us, giving me a full view of the horror standing below. This Bear
stood much taller than the first two, maybe nine feet. Its dark coat was glossy
and thick, and it was more muscular than the others, with bulkier arms and
legs, and a broader torso. Tusks jutted out of its mouth, curling upward to its
nose, ending in cruel points. The tips of its long claws looked so sharp that I
wondered if it had sharpened them on a rock or something.

Did the Bears know how to do that?

I shook in my tree, watching it lift a paw to its mouth,
finishing a meal of what was probably bobcat sirloin. While it chewed, it
sniffed the air. I worried it had already smelled us and was on the lookout for
dessert. Fighting an urge to run, I got the knife out of my pocket, hardly
daring to breathe. It buzzed softly, but intently, in my hand, like it knew we
were in stealth mode. I tensed on the branch, ready to jump onto the beast’s
back once it was under my tree. Closer, closer, closer.

Roller
Coaster of Love,
by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, started playing in
the bushes, followed by a beep, beep, beep.

I muttered curses under my breath. Will didn’t turn his
ringer off? We were so screwed.

The Bear’s head jerked in Will’s direction and its pointed
ears twitched. The bushes trembled as he hurried to shut off his cell phone.
The beast lumbered his way, swiping its claws along the brush. It snuffled at
the ground with its squashed-looking nose, then froze, its body quivering like
a hound pointing at prey. The Bear had found Will.

I didn’t have a choice now—it was too far away for me to
jump on its back. So I leapt out of the tree, shouting, “What’s up, ugly?”

The thing straightened up and turned my way. Then it
laughed.

The thing
laughed
at me.

Oh, man, I was a goner.

The Bear glanced in Will’s direction then turned back to me,
as if it was weighing its options. I took a step toward it, jaw clenched, and
growled through my teeth, “Come and get me. Or are you scared?”

The thing gave me an indignant look, and screeched, throwing
its head forward and leaning my direction, mouth wide and teeth bared. The noise
cut through me like a saw blade. Then it laughed again. “Huh, huh, huh.” It
sounded like a hoarse dog barking, assuming the dog was a pissed-off
Rottweiler.

I backed away, willing it to follow. The Bear sauntered
along, looking smug, staying with me. Behind it, I saw Will stick his head up
then drop back down. The bushes rustled as he crawled off to a new position.

Pushing my way through a cluster of evergreens, I came out
into a little clearing about ten feet across. In a moment of terrified absurdity,
I thought the space looked the same size and shape as a boxing ring. Maybe it
was a good place to make a stand.

The Bear entered the clearing, and when it saw me, it pulled
a pine branch about the diameter of my arm off the nearest tree. With a
grunting chuckle, the monster snapped the branch in half like a twig. The world
swam before my eyes, but a bluish glow in my hand yanked me out of my panic.
The knife was ready to rumble, and an unnatural calm washed over me.

“So that’s how you want it to be?” I called. “You don’t know
what you’re dealing with here.”

It stopped and stared at me, neither of us moving. We were
like runners waiting for the starter pistol. My heart thundered in my chest;
adrenaline was a scary thing.

Then the monster raised the stakes.

“Mun. Et Mun.” It licked its lips. “Et Mun.”

Holy…oh my…freakin’ A! Oh, it talked. Oh, holy zombie
apocalypse…it
talked!
It
wanted to eat me!

The knife buzzed so hard it made my whole hand shake. Again,
waves of calm washed over me, locking down my nerves. I gripped the handle,
treating the blade like it was an extension of my arm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t taste so good. I bet you’d make a nice
rug, though.”

“Huh, huh, huh.” The Bear crouched, its mouth spread wide in
what must’ve been a smile.

Then it sprang.

I rolled out of its way as it flung itself forward. With a
speed I didn’t know I had, I spun around and jumped on its back, digging my
fingers into its thick, shaggy fur.

The Bear stood and jerked wildly, trying to shake me off. I
had to use both hands to hang on, trapping the knife in between the palm of my
hand and the creature’s coat. When I didn’t let go, the monster rushed
backward, heading for the trees at the edge of the clearing. Did I let go and
get trampled? Or hang on and get smushed?

Out of ideas and headed for broken ribs or worse, I decided
I’d have to chance letting go. Before I could, though, a piercing blue-white
light stung my eyes. The beast stopped mid-move and lifted an arm to block out
the beam.

Just enough time.

I let go with my knife hand and stabbed it in the back. The
Bear reached around with its long arms, howling in pain, to grope for the
knife. I released my hold on its coat, grabbing the handle with both hands. My
weight, combined with the power of the blade, sliced a wide-open seam down the
thing’s torso as I slid down its back.

Once my feet hit the ground, I jumped clear. Still clutched
in my right hand, the knife flashed green then went dark. The blade, my chest
and my arms were covered in thick blood and dark, sticky fur.

With a surprised gasp, the monster reeled and fell sideways.
A few twitches later, it was dead.

Will stepped out of the trees, pale and shaking, holding an
LED flashlight. “You got it.”

My breath came in great heaves and I sank to my knees. “No,
man,
we
got it.”

* * *

“Sir, they understand us! They talk, they laugh. Holy shit,
sir!” Now that the danger was over, and the Bear’s body safely stowed behind a
rotted, fallen tree, I was freaking out, big time.

“Matt, slow down.” Colonel Black’s voice was even, measured.
“First things first. Are you and Will safe?”

I took a long, ragged breath. “Yes, sir. We’re fine. A
little bruised and stuff, but nothing serious.”

“Good to hear, soldier. Where are you? Have you made it back
to Cruessan’s house?”

“Yes, sir.”

Will’s bedroom was the size of my living room and lit up
brighter than a baseball field at a night game because neither of us wanted to
be in the dark. I turned to check on him. He sat in the middle of his
king-sized bed with a blanket pulled up around his ears. All I could see were
his eyes. They looked like mine—he’d seen too much.

“We’re at Will’s and settled,” I said. “I’ve got coordinates
for you. This one was a lot bigger and smarter than the last Bear. Colonel, it
laughed at me and it
told
me it was going to eat me. It talked!”

There was a very long pause. “Remember what I said at Fort
Carson, about them getting smarter at an accelerated pace?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All of them are, not just your Bears. Ramirez called in to
say that the South American Gators are pack hunting, making it very difficult
to attack them with only one knife. Parker said the Pandas are doing ‘snatch
and grab’ jobs, stealing people from their homes under cover of night, just
like the Gators. Parker’s worried, because they’ve started migrating to more
populated areas.”

A shiver ran down my body from the crown of my head to the
ends of my toes. “So it’s true, then. All of them are getting smarter.”

“It appears so,” the colonel said. “Keep your eyes open. On
the next hunt, we need all the details, however small.”

“Well, we only saw one Bear tonight. And it wasn’t very
stealthy. Maybe they aren’t developing as fast as the others.”

“Let’s hope,” he said. “The coordinates just came through.
I’ll let you know when we’ve made the recovery.”

“Do you need me to come along?” I half-hoped he wouldn’t,
but I didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a chicken.

“Maybe next time. For now, I think you need a little
distance.” The colonel’s voice held a firm calmness that settled my nerves much
like the knife had. “In the meantime, be ready for action. Looks like we’re in
for a heavy campaign.”

“Yes, sir.” I hung up with the colonel. “Will, if you want
to quit now, I understand. If you’d let me use the ATV that would be a big
help.”

Will dropped his blanket and scowled at me. “Are you
kidding? There’s no way I’m letting you go out there by yourself. You’d get
killed! Besides, I’ve figured something out.”