Monster Hunter Bloodlines - eARC by Larry Correia (read a book .txt) 📕

or the drone. She could ninja leap and shapeshift all she wanted, but slow and steady was going to win this race . . . I hoped.

We were moving away from the main hotels, so the crowd was thinning out some. But there was still a lot of foot traffic, and every place that sold food or drinks was packed and had a line out the door.

“The target is turning into a building on the west side of the street,” Milo reported. He had a street address from the computer program, but no information as to what was located there. Holly checked in. She was close too. Earl and Gregorius were a minute behind her because they’d also had to dodge the law, only I couldn’t imagine either of them wearing costumes. Gregorious because he was just so dour, and Earl on general principle . . . Though come to think of it, he could have turned into a werewolf and in this crowd people probably would have just complimented him on how realistic it looked and then tried to take their picture with him.

“Sorry, guys, the drone has lost visual.”

We got there a moment later and saw that it was an office building where a bunch of different kinds of firms rented the lower floors, but residential apartments above. There were a lot of people inside the lobby area, but none of them had a big red backpack. Trip and I got strange looks from the business-casual-dressed people, which meant it was time to ditch our silly disguises. I pulled Cookie Monster’s head off and tucked it under my arm before approaching the receptionist.

“May I help you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Did a young woman come through here a minute ago?” Since I didn’t know what face our shapeshifter was currently wearing, that was all the description I could give, but come to think of it, her being limited to young and female was just a guess on my part based on her behavior so far. “Or maybe somebody else with a big red backpack?”

We must have looked like shifty, sweaty, dangerous types, because she said, “I’m afraid that’s none of your business, sir.” Except as I had asked the question, her eyes had flicked unconsciously down the hall to the left.

“Thanks.” The two of us started walking in that direction, but then I paused briefly when I saw the sign on the door. It was the lady’s restroom. Trip checked the tracker, then nodded. I shrugged, dropped Cookie Monster’s head, drew my handgun, and pushed the door open.

“You can’t go in there!” the receptionist shouted after us. “Security!”

We swept in, guns up. It appeared to be empty. There was a red backpack sitting on the sink. I rushed to it, while Trip checked both of the stalls.

The bag was flat. Empty. No magic rock.

“The stone’s gone.”

“Clear,” Trip said after shoving open the second door. “Where’d she go?”

About ten feet up, with no practical way for a regular person to reach it, was a window. From all her jumping and flipping, it wouldn’t have been too hard for her. It was open. I keyed my radio. “The target has snuck out the back. She ditched the backpack with the tracker, but she’s got the Ward.”

“What’s Skippy looking for then?”

“I have no idea.”

“We’ll do what we can. Milo out.”

“Damn it!” I kicked the garbage can in frustration.

“Boost me up,” Trip suggested.

“Good idea.” We hadn’t been that far behind her. He might be able to see something. So I holstered my gun, made a stirrup with my hands, Trip stepped on them, and I lifted. Hunters have to practice for weird crap like this, so hoisting Trip up there was a piece of cake.

I grunted. “See anything?”

He held onto the windowsill and peered out. “Just a parking lot. I think I can fit. I’m going after her.”

Trip had far broader shoulders than the shapeshifter, so it took him a few seconds of precarious struggling, but then he made it and I could quit holding him up. He wiggled through. “I’ll catch up,” I shouted as Trip dropped into the parking lot on the other side.

As we were pulling off that clever maneuver, I could hear the receptionist screaming at somebody else they couldn’t go back there, again. That was probably our friends.

Only the thing that came through the door was no Hunter. In fact, it was bigger than me, and clad entirely in dirty, tattered robes. My nostrils got hit with a smell like the reptile house at the zoo. Rags covered most of its face, but in the shadows beneath its hood could be seen two unblinking yellow eyes. Its green, scaly hands were visible, each finger ending in a long black talon. In those hands was an iPhone in a pink bejeweled case which was incongruously cheerful and really didn’t match the rest of the creature’s ensemble.

This was probably the one time of year a thing like this could walk around downtown Atlanta and not get shot on sight. This was no squishy human cultist. This was the real deal.

The reptoid glared at me, then it glanced down at the blinking light on the phone it had surely taken from one of its human cultists, then it looked over at the sink and the empty backpack. When it saw that the stone was gone, the monster let out a really perturbed hissing sound.

“Dude, I know how you feel.”

I’d vented my anger by kicking the garbage can. Apparently, the creature decided it was going to take out its frustration over losing the Ward on me, because it came over and tried to swat my head off.

Chapter 3

It turns out reptoids are shockingly fast.

I managed to draw my pistol. There wasn’t time to bring up the sights, but we were so close it didn’t matter. I fired twice from the speed rock. The .45 was deafening in the small, tiled room. Both silver hollowpoints nailed it in the chest.

It slammed into me anyway.

My back hit the wall. I ducked