Lumley's accomplice honked the truck's horn again. The ruse annoyed Huntsman no less for its transparency. He had requested intel the previous night and, that morning, a baggy-eyed intern had knocked on the door to Room 4 with the new file on Byron Wong: Lodge had previously overlooked the petty criminal, mediocre student, and two-time chlamydia sufferer. He lacked armaments, combat training, finances, or connections, and nothing suggested supernatural ability or contact with, much less allegiance to, the enemy. The preliminary psych eval—likely conducted by the intern's barista, given the time constraints—indicated that Wong was motivated by friendship for the primary target. He was a useful idiot, minus the 'useful,' and Huntsman could have overlooked him as well, were it not for the damned honking.
He drew his pistol.
"You want to gun down a Forest Ranger in front of everybody?" Frazer whispered, pointing to his employees, who had been lured to the field unit's windows by the horn.
Huntsman holstered the pistol. "Flush out Lumley. I'll handle this one."
"You don't need to kill him," Frazer said. "Byron can come to an arrangement with Tallahassee. Everyone has a price, right?"
Wong stepped out of his truck and beckoned Huntsman.
Huntsman sighed contentedly. "Not everyone."
"I can't be a part of this." Frazer entered the field unit.
--
Ray crouched beneath the windowsill in Carol's office. Frazer's windows were warded, and Frazer himself paced in the Field Unit's common area. Huntsman stood between Ray's only exit and Byron's truck.
"Guys, come here," Karen said on the other side of Carol's door. "Byron's going to get busted."
Their coworkers rolled their office chairs towards the windows.
Carol's doorknob rattled.
Ray froze.
Something tickled his finger. An ant had crawled onto his palm.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Ray whispered. "But we could use some help."
The doorknob rattled again.
Nearby, a dog barked.
--
The parked cars formed a corridor; Byron stood at one end and Huntsman stood at the other, resting his hand on his hip holster.
"Be cool, okay?" Byron said. "I'm unarmed."
"Take off your shirt, Byron!" Karen shouted from a window.
"You don't need—" Huntsman said.
Byron stripped to the waist and ran through a sequence of bodybuilding poses, ending with rear double biceps. "See, nothing duct-taped to my back or anything."
"Show me what's in your hands," Huntsman said.
Byron revealed a joint and a lighter. "Oops. Where did that come from?"
He lit the joint and smoked it, to the delight of his coworkers.
Huntsman turned away, scanning the parking lot.
"I get it, you're a cool cop," Byron said, blowing a wobbly smoke ring. "Personal use ain't no thing. But what if I told you there's a gallon bag in my truck?"
He turned to his coworkers. "Supplies are limited, so act now! Get your good good here!"
Karen leaned out the window, recording his antics on her phone.
"Aren't you going to arrest him?" someone asked Huntsman.
"Yeah, aren't you?" Byron said. "You got me on possession with intent to distribute."
Ray poked his head above Carol's windowsill.
"Wait!" Byron said.
Ray ducked.
"What?" Huntsman asked.
"I'll let you suck me off for $100," Byron said. "Now you got me on prostitution."
"Oh my God," Karen said, giggling. "Byron! I told you I'd make you famous!"
"Come on, McGruff. Take a bite out of this." Byron grabbed himself.
"This is the weirdest cop I've ever seen," someone said.
Grimacing, Huntsman strode towards Byron and away from Ray's hiding spot.
--
Carol's door shuddered. For a foolish moment, Ray felt relief, but it was not Trivia.
Frazer slammed his shoulder into the door again. "Huntsman! Lumley's in here! He's been in my office!"
One one thousand. Two one thousand.
The ant bit Ray's hand.
"I know," Ray said, leaping out of Carol's window and through the King's wards.
"Catch!" Byron threw his keys at Ray with all of his might.
Ray gestured in frustration at the field unit's roof, where the keys landed.
Byron shrugged at Ray, then charged Huntsman.
Huntsman seized Byron's outstretched arms, planted a foot in his stomach, and fell backwards, catapulting him overhead to land hard on the asphalt.
"Brutality!" Karen said. "He was peacefully protesting! My uncle has glaucoma."
Huntsman leapt to his feet.
Byron rose more slowly, but Huntsman had thrown him closer to Ray.
"Run! I got what we need!" Ray said.
"Then get out of here." Byron spread his arms and faced Huntsman down. "Come on, bro, let's hug it out."
Huntsman brushed dirt off his shoulders. "Poor decision. You move like a pregnant cow."
"And aren't you a pacifist?" Ray asked.
"I'm not gonna fight him," Byron said. "But I can slow his ass d—oww!"
Two metal barbs jutted from his right pectoral. His muscles spasmed, but he remained standing.
"Fuck!" Ray said. He had not seen Huntsman draw the taser.
Byron ripped the barbs from his chest. "Gonna have to do better than—"
Huntsman tased Byron again. He fell on his face, out cold. Huntsman zip-tied Byron's hands and feet.
Ray lifted his shirt, revealing papers tucked into his waistband. "Hey Huntsman! Looking for these?"
He fled into the woods.
Huntsman grabbed his black doctor's bag and pursued.
--
Once they were out of sight of the field unit, Huntsman shouted, "Put it down!"
Why would I do that? Ray held the papers close.
"Put the weapon down now!" Huntsman said.
But I don't—Oh.
Ray vaulted a fallen tree trunk and covered his head with his arms. Two gunshots rang out, and he couldn't help screaming, even though it gave away his position.
A yellow-brown shape ran through the forest. Rex leapt onto Huntsman, ruining his aim and knocking him to the ground.
Roosevelt's voice boomed through the trees ahead. "This way!"
Ray looked back to see Rex, but the foliage grew thicker, obscuring his view and Huntsman's way forward.
--
Huntsman seized a double-handful of fur, pivoted in place, and threw the beast over his hip. His forearm bled from a savage bite. His pistol had slid beneath a shrub more than twenty feet away, but the doctor's bag was closer. He kept pine trees between himself and the beast until he could loop his arm through the bag's leather handles and use it as a shield.
The beast snarled.
Huntsman silently bared his teeth. He'd lose sight of Lumley if he didn't hurry.
The beast lunged for his inner thigh.
He knocked the beast out of the air with the bag and circled towards his gun.
The beast charged again, seized his ankle, and pulled him to the ground. Its teeth threatened to pierce his leather boots and crush his bones.
He released the bag and grabbed hold of a sapling, so the beast could not drag him even farther from his gun. He kicked it in the face once, twice, three times.
The beast let go, bleeding from the mouth, but did not give him enough space to stand without exposing his face and throat.
Instead, Huntsman shuffled backwards. His hands scrabbled though pebbles and leaves and acorns, closing on a branch as thick as his arm. He thrust it between the beast's jaws.
The beast bit the branch in two.
"Monster," Huntsman said.
The beast leapt onto his chest, pinning him to the ground.
He shifted his hips to the side, but could not escape. He bobbed around the beast's snapping jaws, countering with short, ineffectual elbows—an invitation for the beast to tear into his forearm again. When it did, he slipped his other arm around the beast's head and clamped down on its throat.
The beast coughed and squirmed, trapped beneath Huntsman's armpit.
Huntsman tightened his grip and rose to his feet. The beast grew weaker, and less massive, as it struggled. He slammed the beast's spine into an oak. Its rear legs went limp.
He retrieved his pistol, released the magazine, and drew another. Huntsman crouched beside the beast—it was trying to drag itself away with its front legs—and showed it the magazine, which was marked "Ag" in silver paint.
"I am not the villager devoured in the twilight hours," he said. "I am not the babe gone missing from her crib. I am not the fool who lies with wood-wives and forfeits his soul."
He loaded the silver bullets. "I do not fear monsters. And if you have a soul, I commend it to Hell."
He aimed at the beast's heart and squeezed the trigger.