Larry Correia: Monster Hunter Alpha

“Should we run?”

“Naw,” Earl shook his head. “That’s the thing about Hunters. Once they find you, if you run, it just makes them want to chase you that much harder.”

The conflict on her face was obvious to read. Instinct was telling her to flee, but she trusted him. “You’d better be right, Earl.”

“We’ll see what they’ve got to say. Besides, if they were really out to get us, they’d just have dropped a bomb on the place.”

Earl splashed some water on his face, finished getting dressed, and then confirmed that their belongings were ready to go. They’d already been packed to leave in the morning. Heather was too nervous to talk. Earl did his best to comfort her, but he didn’t know what was happening, either. You didn’t send the air force if you were planning nothing more than a friendly visit. “Stay inside. They might not know about you,” Earl warned Heather before giving her a gentle kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“You’d better,” she warned him. “I don’t want to do CPR on you again, okay?”

“You’re really good at it, though.”

He closed the door behind him. There was an overhang to protect the entrance from the snow, so Earl lit a cigarette and settled down beneath it to wait. Two minutes later, a Chinook helicopter with no markings landed in front of the cabin. Four armored figures disembarked as soon as the ramp hit the ground. They fanned out in a protective circle while a fifth man strolled down the ramp. The stranger walked directly toward the cabin without even taking the time to orient himself. The four soldiers formed a line behind him and followed.

The stranger was tall, and despite his heavy coat, obviously thin. He trudged along through the snow at an energetic clip. Despite their camouflage-painted, ceramic-plate armor that made MHI’s heavy suits look svelte in comparison, the soldiers kept up. As they got closer, Earl noted that the leader’s head was bared to the elements, and that he was completely, shiny, bald. He was also wearing a pair of oddly colored, orange-lensed sunglasses, even though it was pitch dark.

The Chinook’s twin rotors were still turning, which made it difficult to understand the stranger’s greeting. He had to repeat himself as he got closer. “Good evening, Mr. Harbinger.”

Earl just nodded. “Your helicopter’s messing up my landscaping.”

The soldiers came to a silent halt a polite twenty feet away. Their leader closed the remaining distance and stopped at the overhang. “It won’t be there long.” The stranger appeared to be in his forties, six and a half feet tall, extremely long-limbed and with skin so pale that if Earl hadn’t smelled the warm blood pumping, he would’ve suspected the man was undead. He was borderline gaunt, but his movements gave off a sense of athleticism. He seemed human, just an odd one. “I’m Mr. Stricken.”

Earl made a show of not being able to hear over the chopper. “Sorry? What was that? Strickland?”

“Stricken,” he repeated.

“What? No handshake?” Earl asked.

“I’ve heard your reputation on the subject,” Stricken said. “My hobby is classical piano, so I’d prefer you not to break all the bones in my hand. May I come in?”

“No. What do you want?”

“Just a moment of your time. I can be polite or not. Your decision.” Stricken took off the orange shades, revealing albino eyes. “And I would like to speak to Ms. Kerkonen as well.”

Earl had been afraid of that. “Deputy Kerkonen died at the Quinn Mine.”

“We both know that’s not true. My time’s valuable Mr. Harbinger. Believe me, this isn’t my idea of fun. Cold doesn’t agree with me. Bring her out.”

Earl looked over at the four soldiers. Their helmets had opaque full-face visors, so it was impossible to read their expressions. He had no doubt he could take them. It was the F-16s he didn’t know what to do about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your file said that you could be a pain in the ass. A satellite has been passing over this area every day for weeks. There’s a redheaded woman here, approximately five foot eight, one hundred and thirty pounds. Nice rack. Spends her free time turning into a werewolf and terrorizing the squirrels. Wave, dumb-shit. You’re on camera,” Stricken said. Earl’s tilted his head to peer suspiciously around the overhang. “Don’t bother looking, you idiot, you can’t see it. It’s in fucking outer space.”

“She can control it. Just like me.”

Stricken’s laugh was mean. “You think I give a shit? You think I’m MCB? They’re losers. You think they’d get permission to go rerouting satellites for one measly lycanthrope? If popping her was my mission, I’d have vaporized this whole valley with one phone call.” The laughter died, and Stricken’s pink eyes bored into Earl. “Call her out.”

This man wasn’t to be trifled with. Earl opened the door a crack. “Heather?”

“I heard,” she muttered as she came through the door and stood proudly at Earl’s side. “What do you want from us?”

“Werewolves have to earn the right to exist. PUFF immunity is a rare and precious thing. Luckily, werewolves are an amazing creature, and I happen to need one.”

Not again. Earl tossed his cigarette butt in the snow. “How long this time?”

“Two years, beginning immediately. Upon satisfactory completion, there will be a certificate granting full PUFF immunity to the bearer.”

“Until the government changes its mind again.”

“Of course. This offer is valid for the next five minutes. Yes or no. If yes, then we board that helicopter and for the next two years you have zero communication with anyone outside of my organization. No friends, no family. For all intents and purposes, you’ll be government property for the next seven hundred thirty days. Seven hundred thirty-one if there’s a leap year. I haven’t checked the calendar.”

“And the job?”

“You will complete assignments as specified. These assignments will be dangerous but should be well within your capabilities. Everything you need will be provided. At the end of this term, you’re free to go. However, you will be required to keep all information pertaining to my organization classified for the rest of your life, or your immunity will be revoked and you’ll be terminated.”

“And if the answer is no?”

Stricken smiled that same unnerving smile. “Harsh words may be exchanged…” An F-16 roared past. “And cluster bombs.”

Earl glanced at the eerily silent soldiers. They hadn’t so much as twitched. There wasn’t even a hint of fear smell, nor excitement or any other recognizable chemicals. Their smell was an indeterminate mixture of gun-oil, synthetic fibers, meat, bone, and blood. They were either inhumanly well trained, or just plain inhuman. Their armored faceplates gave no clue.

He turned to Heather. She was still holding his arm. Now she was frightened. The soldiers were terrifying, not as physical threats, but as what they represented. Heather was barely learning to control herself. He was her anchor, he was her teacher, he was her lover, but now these strange men were here to take him away. Stricken wouldn’t just be hurting Earl, he’d be hurting her.

But if he didn’t go, they were both as good as dead. Even if he killed these men and they escaped, the hunt would just be beginning. He was a Hunter, and as such, he understood just how awful it was be to be the hunted. It would never stop.

Earl gently raised his hand and touched Heather on the cheek. She turned to him, and he could see the understanding in her eyes. She knew what he had to do. Heather was strong, even stronger than he had been at the beginning. She’d be fine. There was just the slightest hint of a nod. No matter what, she trusted him.