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

for this up-close and personal stuff. So I twisted my rifle at an angle and started blasting falcons with high-powered rifle rounds. It wasn’t efficient, but it was satisfying.

The Hunters all rushed down the stairs. I was the last one out and made sure the roof was clear of good guys before I ducked inside. Spencer slammed the heavy steel door on a ghost bird hard enough to cut it in half, then dropped the big crossbar to lock the door. Immediately a bunch of birds started thumping against the other side.

“Hold this entrance,” I told Spencer, and then I went after my wife.

Chapter 19

Julie was in the hall, giving orders to the roof crew to take up their secondary positions, when Earl walked into the hall and spotted us. “You two. Command center. Now.”

“We couldn’t hold the roof, Earl.”

“I know. Come on.”

As Julie and I followed Earl to our so-called command center, I could hear heavy gunfire through the walls. Skippy was laying down the hate. We passed a bunch of Hunters who were manning the narrow firing slits through our armored shutters along the way. Everybody stumbled as the entire building shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. Lights flickered. That had felt like artillery. The Drekavac’s gun was getting kind of ridiculous.

We’d already had a room in the basement for monitoring all of our surveillance feeds, but it was too cramped for more than a couple of Hunters to work, so Milo had taken over one of the empty storage rooms on the top floor. When we got there, Milo was standing in the middle, giving orders to our technically minded Hunters who had been drafted for this job. Melvin had set up a bunch of computers for them. In addition there were a whole lot of rough looking switches that looked like they’d been hastily wired together.

In addition to our guys, Franks was there. None of the Secret Guard were though, which made me a little suspicious, because part of me still expected Gutterres to make a move for the Ward. They’d been honorable so far, but I’d been screwed over too many times in this business for trust to come easily.

Milo saw us enter. “Hey, Earl. You want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Spit it out.”

“Skippy just bagged number eight for us. Bad news, it took about twenty direct hits with his 30mm nose gun to do it, so this jerk is getting really resilient.”

“That is bad,” Earl muttered.

“Oh no. That was the good news. The bad news is that he is already coming back and it looks like he’s ten feet tall.” Milo pointed at one of the screens, which showed the now gigantic Drekavac swirling into existence in front of our building.

“If he breaches the walls, Tanya’s spell will be broken, and he’ll be able to re-form in here with us,” Julie warned. “Where’s Skippy?”

“Coming around for another fast pass because he almost got fried by a lightning bolt when he was hovering,” Milo said. “So can I try out my system now or what?”

Earl thought it over. “Is everyone inside and out of the line of fire?”

“They’re supposed to be. If they’re not, they’re gonna want to duck.”

“Do it,” Earl ordered. “But if you wreck the whole damned compound I’m taking it out of your paycheck.”

Milo pumped his fist in the air. Our mad genius had been waiting for this moment for a long time. “Alright, boys, you heard the man. Hinerman?”

Dave Hinerman was a beefy, bearded Hunter from our New York team, who’d been a software engineer before we’d recruited him. “The program is running fine. Ready when you are.”

“Vivier?”

Eric Vivier was a tall, spikey-haired guy from Paxton’s team in the Pacific Northwest. He’d been an engineer. The two of them and a few of our other mechanically adept Hunters had helped Milo on the project while he’d installed it over the last year. Vivier checked his screen and reported, “All systems are go. Everything hardwired is still responding.”

“Let’s light this candle.” Milo sat down in front of a computer. “We’re living in the future, Earl. Today is one small step for MHI, one giant leap for Hunter kind.” Then he giggled, because Milo truly loved his work. “Activate turrets one and two.”

“Activating turrets one and two,” Hinerman said.

Screens were one thing, but this I needed to see with my own eyes. There was one window on the far wall of the command center, and luckily it was oriented in the right direction. The armored shutters were rolled down, but I’d still be able to see through the firing slits, so I walked over. Earl followed me, probably because he’d allowed Milo to spend a lot of money on this and wanted to see how much of it had been wasted. Agent Franks was already there, watching, and he appeared mildly curious as below us two armored boxes rose up through the ground, lifted by hydraulics. As the turrets rotated, bits of dirt and grass slid off of them. Ports slid open and barrels extended through. From up here, one looked long and skinny, the other short and fat.

“The first is an M2, and the second is an Mk19,” I told Franks. “Turrets three through eight cover the other sides.”

“Your project?” he asked me.

“I made the budget spreadsheet.”

Franks just grunted, unimpressed.

The Drekavac was fully formed, and he’d grown. The proportions were the same as before, but he was easily ogre size now, and he started toward our front door, determined to kick it in.

“Fire!” Milo shouted.

The two turrets opened up. Fifty-cal rounds zipped right through the monster. The Mk19 rhythmically and ponderously slammed 40mm grenades into his chest.

Shockingly, the monster just lowered his head and kept walking through the onslaught. The Drekavac lifting his hand to protect his face seemed like an almost human reaction, except instead of blocking a punch, he was absorbing high explosives and armor-piercing shells. The turrets slowly turned, tracking him, pounding away. They