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

Then out of nowhere the band started to shred, and the singer dropped into a snarling growl that was deeper than I could have achieved on my best day. She shifted gears so fast it came out of nowhere. Beauty died and this was all diesel fumes and primal anger. It was pure distilled rage and the discontent of a generation. A hundred people automatically started banging their heads. That voice would have been more appropriate coming out of the bearded mammoth working the door than the tiny girl who had started furiously jumping up and down with the microphone.

Then she flipped back effortlessly to smooth and melodic, and instantly had the crowd swaying along to a tragic love story. She was dragging the audience with her, whether they wanted to or not.

Except for Gutterres. Because when I looked back over at him, he’d lost the neutral expression, and was openly annoyed. When the singer looked toward his back corner, he lifted his arm and tapped his wristwatch, as if saying we had an appointment.

Only the singer grinned at him, did a sassy little twirl, threw the horns, and went back to the gravel roar chorus that was so low it made Skippy sound high-pitched. The lyrics were about burning churches and looting villages.

I had never heard a human being with that much range before . . . which made sense, because she was only half human. Even though I knew what I was looking for, she had temporarily clouded my judgment and sucked me along in her musical maelstrom. The singer was the right size, age, attitude, and the secret Vatican dude was obviously ticked off that she was screwing around and showing off rather than talking to him.

I got out my phone and sent Earl another text. Sonya is here.

The bartender came up to me. “From the way you’re gawking, I guess you haven’t heard Debbie sing before.”

Debbie? “Yeah. First time. She rocks. Does she play here often?”

“Not really. She comes and goes as the mood strikes her. The regulars love when she shows up though.”

“Yeah, I can see why.”

The song was done. The crowd went nuts. Sonya soaked up the cheers for a moment, then yelled into the mic. “Thank you, Perdition’s Abyss! I love you too! Now this next one is an all-new composition I like to call ‘Contract Renegotiation’!”

Sonya’s little garage band immediately launched into another song. I recognized the tune, because they had stolen this one from Cabbage Point Killing Machine too, but she’d replaced Mosh’s lyrics.

I did what you asked

I took up the task.

But there’s a bounty on my head,

Vengeful lizards want me dead!

“Time to pay up, bible thumpers!” she screamed. “Pass that collection plate one more time!” Then she switched to the super rumble beast voice for the chorus while looking directly at Gutterres.

You know the deal,

You gotta pay me to steal.

I didn’t want this much trouble,

It’s gonna cost you double!

She could certainly sing, but her songwriting abilities were unimaginative crap. I remember Mosh scribbling better lyrics on the back of homework assignments when he was fifteen and going through his emo phase. Yet Sonya repeated the chorus and the audience was so enamored with her, they started singing along, informing the hapless Secret Guardsman that she wanted more money.

Gutterres folded his arms and scoffed. I’d not noticed he was wearing an earpiece before, but he began talking to someone, probably to ask for more money. Being MHI’s accountant, I’d been at the other end of the line in a few conversations like that over the years. Whoever he was talking to must have balked because Gutterres began arguing with them. I really hoped the Church’s accountant stuck to their guns and told her no deal, because whatever they wanted the Ward for, MHI needed it more.

One last warning,

Or you’ll be mourning,

You fuck around with me,

I’ll toss it in the sea!

Gutterres passed that message on, and his handlers must have decided negotiating with terrorists would be okay this time. As Sonya wrapped up her song, Gutterres gave her the OK sign. The deal was approved. Sonya would get her money and the Secret Guard would get the Ward Stone.

Except that’s when the monster arrived.

Chapter 7

I knew something was terribly wrong even before I saw the creature.

There are certain types of supernatural beings that can suck the warmth right out of a room, as if their taking action in our world requires stealing energy from their surroundings. I had felt that effect with soulless abominations before, usually different types of undead. When a master vamp gets really charged up it feels like you got shoved into a walk-in freezer.

This was like that, but worse.

It had been uncomfortably warm and muggy inside the bar. The old air conditioning unit just couldn’t keep up with this many bodies. Then out of nowhere it felt like I’d been dunked in ice water.

It wasn’t just the sudden cold. It was the unnatural stillness. The bar went from super loud to unnaturally muted in an instant. All the other patrons were still shouting or cheering for Sonya—I could see their lips moving—except what had been a roar dropped to a whisper. Clapping hands and stomping boots were muffled thumps.

I glanced toward the front window. It was so dirty it would have been hard to see through during daytime. At night, looking out into a parking lot where most of the lights were burned out, I could only see shadows and shapes. Yet something weird was moving behind the line of Harleys. I thought it was another bike, but it was too tall, and the shape was spikey, and vaguely . . . organic? It stopped. The rider dismounted. When his feet touched the Earth the already weak lights in the bar flickered, and when they came back the place seemed even dimmer. All the hair on my arms stood up.

“Oh, hell.” I hurried and typed another text to send to my team. Unknown monster incoming.