Matt Archer: Monster Hunter (Matt Archer #1) (9 page)

Mike wasn’t in quarters when I got back. Except for morning
runs and night-stalking exercises, he had turned my training over to various
instructors. I didn’t mind, though; when he wasn’t watching out for me, he was
planning his op to Afghanistan with Colonel Black. He had things to do. So did
I. Showered and stretched out on my bunk, I thought how cool it felt to be just
like him. I was protecting the world from monsters.

* * *

Thursday night, I sat on my metal bunk, leaning against the
wall at the head of the bed. I left the window open and listened to vehicles
growl along the road even though it was past eight o’clock. The base never
stopped moving. Kinda like me over the last week.

My cell phone rested in my lap. For the most part, I’d been
too busy to miss home, but I was having a hard time tonight. Mike had warned me
that if I called Mom I would get an earful about the dust-up with Carter. My
family thought I didn’t have cell coverage, out rappelling in the mountains
with Mike, so I knew no one would call to check on me. I wondered what they
were doing, and whether or not they missed me.

Mike knocked on the door separating my room from the
bathroom, then poked his head in. He was already dressed in BDUs for our night
maneuvers. “Chief, I thought you’d be crashed out. We have tracking exercises
at oh-one-hundred. You should get some sleep while you can.”

I shook my head, my chest feeling tight. “When I get back
home, how will I do this alone?”

Uncle Mike sat at the foot of my bunk. It squeaked from the
added weight. “You aren’t alone, Matt. You have an entire team of Green Berets
at your back.”

“That’s just it,” I said, embarrassed by the tremble in my
voice. “I don’t. Johnson told me everyone’s leaving, either on regular
deployment orders that can’t be changed because they’re needed elsewhere, or to
check out supernatural activity, like you. I can’t even meet the other
wielders. They have their own creatures to fight.”

“Colonel Black and I have been interviewing personnel from
Fort Carson, people outside the 10
^th
Airborne, but good soldiers.
We’ll find you a partner” he said. “I promise.”

“Be good for you to find this ‘partner’ before I leave base,
you know,” I said. “Since you’re abandoning me.”

The second I said it, I regretted it. The hurt look on
Mike’s face made me want to crawl under the bed. Being homesick and in a pissy mood
didn’t excuse being an a-hole.

“I have to find the right person and that takes time. I
can’t entrust your safety to just any master sergeant with good hand-to-hand
combat skills.” Uncle Mike stood. “We’ll find someone. For now, focus on the
mission. Logistics have a funny way of sorting themselves out.”

I picked at my cuticles, ashamed for doubting him, and even
more ashamed for continuing to doubt myself. If I was going to do anyone any
good, I had to stop being a coward and prove I was worthy of being chosen. “I’m
sorry…for what I said. I know you and the colonel won’t leave me twisting in
the wind.”

“Never.” Mike dropped a hand on my shoulder. “Matt, I’m
proud of you.”

He left and I stretched out in bed, feeling better. Mike
always had my back. I wouldn’t gripe again—to prove I had his.

* * *

Friday, it all clicked.

“No, Archer, no,” Lieutenant Johnson said during our final
workout in the fighting gym. “If I’m coming at you with a left hook…don’t just
duck then stand there. Duck and hit me on the underside. Don’t worry about that
wooden knife, man, you won’t hurt me.”

I lunged and he grabbed my arm at the elbow. With a whirl
and a twist, I ended up flat on my back.

“Down again, kid.” Johnson’s voice rumbled like a Harley in
prime shape. “All right, let’s do it over, and this time, don’t get all nice
on...”

Before he finished the sentence, I popped into a crouch and
grabbed his knees from behind, butting him with my shoulder to make them bend.
Johnson rolled over my back as I turned a somersault underneath him to keep
from getting kicked in the head or squashed. After he dropped, I jumped on him.

Putting my knife against his throat, I said, “Something like
that, sir?” I gave him a little smile, trying not to whoop with excitement.

Johnson laughed, his brown eyes alight. “Yeah, man, yeah.”

I glanced at Mike, who was leaning up against the gym wall
to watch us spar and he smiled at me. I’d improved in my training much faster
than he expected. He’d told me so, and that made me work even harder.

I even aced equipment training.

Later on Friday morning, Davis paced around Colonel Black’s
office, barking out questions. “Name the standard night vision goggles supplied
to the U.S. Military.”

“ATN PVS7-DP. They include Automatic Brightness Control and
sixty hours of battery life,” I recited.

“Correct. At what elevation above the horizon does your
sat-phone get a signal?”

“Any elevation above ten degrees.”

“Yes. What’s the resolution on your GPS display?”

“Four hundred by two-forty.” I rolled my eyes. “Any more
questions, Specialist? I read the manuals like you assigned, so hit me.”

“That won’t be necessary. Let’s see how well you packed.”

Davis picked up my equipment bag and balanced it on his
hand. “Feels even.” He unzipped it and rifled through the contents, taking a
long time to check everything out. “All the gear’s in the right place,
except…where’s the knife?”

I’d tried something different from his instructions, and of
course he noticed. “Front pocket. It’s easier to find it there and besides,
when we locate a trail I’m going to keep the knife on me, not in the bag.”

Davis gave me a curt nod. “Good. I’ve been wondering how
long it would take you to figure that out. Speed drill. Unpack it all and pack
it back up.”

I hid a grin. No matter what it sounded like, Davis had just
complimented me.

* * *

Right after lunch, Master Sergeant Schmitz asked Mike to
attend our “dem-mon-stray-shun” in the woods. I wore a brand-new pair of BDUs
the colonel had special-ordered to fit me. I even had a name patch with
“Archer” on it. My sneakers ruined the look, but Mike promised to buy me some
boots for an early Christmas present.

Colonel Black in tow, Mike strode out to meet Schmitz,
looking agitated. “Schmitz, appreciate the effort, but we don’t have time.
Something’s come up. Matt, come on out; we need to talk.”

“Find me first!” I was thirty feet ahead, hiding under some
bushes that surrounded an aspen tree, but I started moving right after I called
out.

Mike came toward the sound of my voice. “Fine, found you.”

By that point, I’d already crept the other direction through
the dense sagebrush. I settled down on my belly in front of the colonel to
watch the progress, keeping my breathing even and quiet, just like Schmitz
taught me.

Mike thrashed around the brush. “Kid, come out of there.”

“Out of where?” I yelled.

Schmitz laughed his head off. “Told you the kid was a quick
study. He’s so much lighter than we are that it’d take a bloodhound to find him
under cover.
I
can’t even find him most of the time now. He’s too dang quiet. Kinda freaky,
huh? Like he’s a sneaking-savant or something.”

Colonel Black’s eyebrows shot up. “Must be if you can’t find
him, Schmitz.” He called out to his right. “Matt, there were two monster
attacks last night in Billings. Get your butt out here, now.”

I jumped to my feet. “Two more?” My limbs were shaking from
the exercise but also from something else. Not fear. Excitement. “Does this
mean I need to go back, sir?”

Mike threw up his hands when he saw how close I was. “Yes. I
know we had more training planned, but we can’t wait.” He smiled. “I’ve talked
to Johnson, Schmitz and Davis. Everyone says you’re good to go.”

“Even Davis?” That was hard for me to believe.

The colonel laughed. “Even Davis. He’s not good with letting
other kids play with his toys, but you convinced him.”

“So,” Mike said, “you ready to do this?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll go pack at once, Major.” I stood up taller
and saluted—right hand at my eyebrow, crisp and straight and tense—the way
they’d showed me. I turned and made it three steps before my “Special-Forces-swagger”
left me. I pumped my fist in the air. “Let’s go hunt some monsters!

We didn’t drive home. We flew.

In a UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter.

So badass.

“All right, Matt. You have the satellite phone and my
number.” Colonel Black hurried us to the helipad. “We’ll give you periodic
updates on sightings and let you know if there have been attacks.”

I gave him a quick salute. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s good to have you on the team, son. You sure were full
of surprises this week.” The colonel helped me into my seat and got my
headphones untangled for me. “Godspeed.”

“Thank you, sir.” I tried to act nonchalant about riding
home in a helicopter, but it wasn’t easy. A stupid grin kept erupting across my
face.

Colonel Black said his goodbyes to Mike, and let him know a
couple of enlisted personnel would drive his Jeep to Billings. Mike and I
needed to hunt as soon as we got back, which is why I got to ride in the Black
Hawk. We didn’t even bother to change out of our BDUs in our hurry.

The helicopter zoomed into the sky, leaving the ground and
my stomach behind. It was the most amazing flight of my life. The countryside
looked much closer than from an airplane, like we were flying in the clutches
of a giant eagle. The vibration of the rotors rumbled in my back and chest, as
if I was one with the machine. If only Ella could have seen me. Carter would’ve
been an afterthought.

On the flight, I caught Mike watching me with the same awed
look he’d had the night the knife had transferred to me.

“Something wrong?” My voice crackled over the headphones.

Mike flipped the switch that cut our conversation off from
the pilots’ speakers. “I was thinking about when you asked why the knife picked
a completely average ninth grader instead of a trained soldier.”

My insides squirmed. “Yeah, I still wonder that sometimes,
actually.”

“Matt, you’re far from average,” he said. “I don’t know how
the knife sensed it, but you’re fast, have a good sense of direction and can
creep around the woods without being seen better than I can. And I noticed
something else.”

“What?”

“You don’t panic. That day you got ‘lost’ in the woods, you
got yourself under control and made a plan much quicker than Colonel Black and
I expected.”

“So you were watching me gripe and moan, curled up in a ball
on the forest floor? Thanks for that, man.” I fiddled with the cord of my
headphones, embarrassed. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought about that before,
because of course they’d been watching me. Now, though, it hurt my pride to
hear about it after finishing my training.

“I’m trying to pay you a compliment,” Uncle Mike said. “When
I gave you that twenty-five-pound pack for our first run, you had trouble
carrying it. But when you thought you were lost and being chased, you didn’t
even seem to notice the weight. It’s like intense situations give you strength.
That’s a rare quality, Chief. And an important one.”

I thought about the fight with Carter, how I’d been able to
pin a much bigger guy against his locker once my blood boiled.

“Guess we’ll get to test your theory tonight,” I said.

I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint him.

We made it to the Billings airport just before sunset and
landed on the helipad on the far end of the general aviation buildings, where a
rented SUV waited. The crew helped us load everything into its trunk, then we
were off.

“Good thing I set up my backpack yesterday,” I said, still
finding it amusing that Davis had made me practice packing my gear.

“Yep.” Mike’s shoulders were tense. He glanced at me, his
eyes dark. “You have everything?”

I patted down the pockets on my BDUs to make sure I had my
compass and flashlight. The knife was safely stowed in the front pocket of my
equipment bag. “Yeah.”

Mike’s chest heaved as he took a deep breath. “Okay. This is
your show. I’m just here to give you backup and pointers. Tell me what to do
first.”

My show? Wasn’t this supposed to be a ride along? “Um. Well,
we need to find a good entry point into the woods. One that’s close to home, so
I can get there on my bike when I hunt alone.” I winced at how stupid that
sounded. The mental image of me riding my bike to go on an unsupervised monster
hunt—carrying a backpack containing a deadly knife, a top-of–the-line handheld
GPS, and a pair of night-vision goggles—seemed a little ridiculous.

To my surprise, Mike looked impressed. “I hadn’t thought
about that. You’re right, we need to find you a way in that’s close enough to
home. Any thoughts on where?”

That was easy. “Yeah. My friend Will’s house butts up to the
woods where we camped, at the opposite end from the campgrounds. I’ll have a
four- or five-mile hike to get into the center of the forest, but that’s a
piece of cake after running with you this past week.”

Mike turned out of the airport’s main driveway. “All right
then, off to Will’s.”

* * *

We parked down the street from the Cruessan’s house. Mike
took a long look and whistled. “Good Lord, kid. What, did Will’s family win the
lottery or something?”

Will’s house was a nine-thousand-square-foot mini-mansion.
I’d gotten lost in it a few times. “No. His dad’s retired NFL and owns some car
dealerships. His mom’s a neurosurgeon.” And they were never home, which made
this the perfect spot to sneak in. “They have six acres out back, so we can
skirt the house to the woods without being seen.”

That earned me an approving smile—a real one, not the faint,
fleeting ones I’d gotten on base all week. “Good thinking, Chief. Really good.”

We crept around the back edge of Will’s property, passing
the detached four-car garage. There was a gap in the hedges that I could
squeeze through easily. It was a bit of a challenge for Mike, but he made it
and we sneaked into the back yard.

“Didn’t they have a garage on the house?” Mike asked.

“Yeah. That one’s for the actual cars. The detached garage
is where they store the boat, the ATVs, and a bunch of hiking and camping
stuff. Will’s dad is a big outdoorsman. We play ping-pong out here sometimes,
too.”

“Must be rough being this well-off,” he whispered.

I sighed. “Believe it or not, it is. Their housekeeper,
Millicent, hangs with Will most of the time. His parents travel a lot. But we
have him over for dinner about once a week, so he gets plenty of nagging and
worry-warting from Mom.”

Mike grunted. “That sounds familiar.”

We got into the woods via a small gap in the trees near the
southeast corner of Will’s property. I’d only made it ten feet before Mike held
up a hand. “Stop.”

I skimmed behind a holly bush. “What?”

“Thought I saw someone moving on the back patio.”

“Probably just Millicent. She smokes, but doesn’t want
Will’s folks to know, so she sneaks a cigarette out there.”

“Okay. Oh, as your uncle, let me just say that smoking’s
stupid.” Mike gave me a self-righteous nod and crept into the trees.

“Sir, yes, sir.” I followed him, laughing that my cigar-loving
uncle would give me an anti-smoking lecture while he dragged me into the woods
to hunt a big, hairy monster.

We fought our way through scrub brush and pines until we
found one of the main hiking trails. The night was cloudless, with a waxing
moon lighting our way. The weather stayed mild, about forty degrees, and if I
hadn’t been apprehensive about what we were looking for, it would’ve been a
great hike. We trekked single file, marching toward the coordinates of the last
attack. I stopped every so often to don my night-vision goggles and search the
trees for heat signatures, but the beast eluded us for the first hour.

About three miles in, we found the first hint that we were
getting close. I scanned the ground with my flashlight, looking for signs. “Mike.”

Two giant paw prints crossed the trail, leading off to the
east. The prints were longer than my size-eight sneakers and they sank down
into the dirt, like the creature who made them weighed more than a
refrigerator. Mike took a picture of the paw print with his digital camera,
then gestured for me to lead him through the trees. I followed the tracks until
I pushed into a small, moonlit clearing. I stopped short, hand over my mouth so
I wouldn’t yell in fright.

The remains of a deer had been scattered in a twenty-foot
radius around the clearing. Bits of meat hung from the pines, stuck in the
needles, and splattered the matted mulch of the forest floor. The stag’s horns
had been discarded to one side. Everything else, including its hooves, was
gone, taken.

“A bobcat or grizzly didn’t do this,” I whispered.

“Not even a person with a machete could do this, Matt,” Mike
said, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

“God.” I blew out a little breath, trying to keep my stomach
steady, determined not to throw up. “Major, what do I do if it hurts me? How do
I get away?”

Mike froze. “There won’t be time.” He turned to me. “You
have to be on constant alert and move fast. You
cannot
hesitate. Kill the monster before
it kills you. Period.”

My knees threatened to turn to jelly, but I gave myself a
mental slap in the face and squared my shoulders. “Then let’s get moving and
take this one out.”

I searched the brush for tracks. Based on the broken twigs,
crushed leaves and huge paw prints, the monster had continued on to the north.
Its claws left four gouges at the front of each footprint. That should’ve
scared the piss out of me, but my pulse quickened with anticipation—we had it
now. I started ahead, but Mike didn’t come.

“Did you hear something?” he asked, looking behind us.

“No.” I strained my ears. A few leaves crunched together.
“Wait, yeah. Doesn’t sound like a monster though. Too small. A raccoon, or a
big rabbit?”

Mike stared at the trees without moving. Finally, he shook
his head. “Just an animal. I’m keyed up; we’re getting close. Let’s go quiet,
though, just in case.”

We moved silently through the evergreens, using branches and
shadows to hide us as we followed its tracks. Only ten minutes later, we found
it. A huge shadow shuffled through the trees fifty feet in front of us. It
lumbered without caution, as if it didn’t care who or what it ran into.

Cold fingers prickled down my back. As we crept ahead, I
wondered if it would be able to smell us. Almost at my thought, it turned our
direction, and sniffed the air. Mike held up a fist—the sign for “halt”—and
motioned for me to get down. I crouched in the brush, holding my breath. After
a moment, Mike pushed forward again.

As we sneaked closer, we caught glimpses of the monster
through the branches. Its shaggy fur was mottled, with both dark and light
patches. Same short snout and curved, boar-like tusks as the first one I’d
killed, but this monster was taller and lankier. The Bear stood on its hind
legs and pulled eggs out of a bird’s nest, popping them in its mouth like they
were mints. Mike and I held so still that I could hear the poor eggs crunch in
its teeth.

With a shock, I realized the knife was still in my
backpack—I’d forgotten to put it in my pocket when we found the trail. I tried
to pull the knife out of my bag, but the zipper stuck, making a grinding noise
as I tugged it.

The monster’s ears pricked up. Had it heard us?

“Steady, Matt,” Uncle Mike said, his whisper barely audible.
“Get ready. I’ll divert it, and…”

Something crashed through the trees off to our right. “Ow!”

Will fell out of the bushes, ripping the sleeve of his ski
jacket on a branch, and landed on his knees right in front the creature. The
Bear jerked its head in his direction and Mike and I flattened ourselves
against the ground. Will’s head tilted slowly upward as he checked out the
beast in front of him, his mouth hanging open. The Bear flexed its claws and
took a few steps toward Will with a pleased-sounding grunt.

I yanked the knife out of my backpack and tried to get up,
but Mike held me down.

“Lemme go,” I whispered. “It’ll kill him!”

Mike shook his head. “We wait. Need to see what it does to
get a better point of attack.”

In the meantime, Will had gone rigid, still kneeling on the
forest floor, staring at the beast with terror painted all over his face. The
monster lumbered toward him, its eyes wide.

“Nice bear…thing. Nice bear,” Will babbled to the monster
like it was a stray dog. “I’ll be going now.”

He scrambled to his feet. The Bear leapt on top of him; they
tumbled to the ground in a heap of fur, arms and legs.

Mike was up like a shot, waving a tree branch. “Hey, ugly!
Over here. Pick on a man, why don’t you?” He glanced back at me, face tense,
then darted his eyes to the right.

He wanted me to crawl right and get behind the beast. I
nodded and started moving.

Will lay flat on his back with his eyes screwed shut,
saying, “I don’t believe in Bigfoot. I’m asleep. I’m asleep. Okay, Will, wake
up now.”

Mike walked backward, shouting insults, most consisting of
some really cool swear words, and whacked the branch against a tree trunk. The
Bear couldn’t have understood the insults, but it shrieked at Mike anyway. The
sound, like school bus brakes forced to stop short on the highway, filled the
whole clearing. For the first time ever, my uncle looked scared.

“Come on, you hairy mess, bring it.” Mike’s voice shook as
he swung the branch at the monster’s head. “Let’s dance.”

It loped toward him, howling. Mike backed himself into a
group of trees that grew in a thick line. Caught, he took one last look my direction,
steel in his eyes, and gripped the branch like a baseball bat.

“Buying time.”

That’s all he said—but I understood. He’d let the monster
get him if that meant I could kill it and help Will escape.