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For the first time since he’d moved to Kepler six years ago, Leo Tarkesian wished he still had his sword. It really would have made things a lot easier. For one thing, he probably wouldn’t be bleeding as much.
The spiny creature growled at him through the biting grip it had on his arm and Leo growled back. It didn’t scare the thing, Leo would have had to be at least twice the size he was for that to stand any chance, but it did make him feel a little better as he ruined another perfectly good shirt. He would have to go shopping again soon if this kept up. Leo beat a fist against what he thought must have been the thing’s nose. Yeah, that little bit of distance a weapon gave him would have been nice. Maybe he’d invest in a fencing foil, or a broadsword, or maybe even a battle axe, just as soon as he was done with this miserable mission. Whining and wishing aside, Leo couldn’t reach the creature’s weak spot on its back as long as it was latched onto him like this. He was going to have to do something more drastic.
Leo threw himself backwards, pulling the monster along for the ride, flipping it up by the jaws and slamming it into the roots of a nearby tree. The grip on his arm loosened just enough to pull free from and Leo was out and on his feet again in a moment. He acted fast, before the beast could regain its footing. A kick for distance, a quick side step for positioning, and then he leapt forward and slammed his knuckles into the delicate shell casing over the eye set between its shoulder blades.
The beast screamed in pain. It shuddered and thrashed out. Leo jumped back, just missing a flailing claw swipe. And then, as he had seen happen so many times before in his monster hunting career, the creature shifted, shone, and shattered. A thousand particles of soft white light drifted up through the canopy of the fir trees and Leo Tarkesian watched them float away. After so many years, he still thought it was kind of beautiful.
All too quickly, Leo’s body reminded him of its existence with a new onslaught of aches and pains.
“You’re getting old, buddy,” he muttered to himself, stretching out already sore muscles. At least he’d done what he needed to do. Leo Tarkesian started down the mountain, heading for home.
He was about halfway back to the trail when he saw the shadowy figure hidden among the trees. Leo tensed, took a more grounded stance. A lighter clicked and the small flame lit up a familiar face.
“Hey there, Duck.” Duck Newton startled and dropped his lighter. He caught it before it hit the ground, singing the tips of his fingers. Probably less than a normal person would have, if Leo had to guess. He also guessed that most people wouldn’t have been able to catch the little thing in mid fall anyways. “Sorry about that. You alright?”
“Oh! Mr. Tarkesian,” he said, “uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. I am okay. How are you?”
Leo’s arm itched with dried blood. “Great. I’m doing just great on this uh, this fine summer night.”
The question “what are you doing out so late?” hung awkwardly in the air. Neither of them wanted to answer and so they each avoided asking, just in case turnabout was fair play.
“Well,” Duck broke the silence, “I really should get back to uh… bird watching,” he stumbled over his words. “Wait, it’s nighttime. Bat… watching?”
Oh he was such a bad liar. “Yeah, of course,” Leo agreed, “I mean you know what they say. ‘Birds are just the bats of the daytime.’”
“Yes. They say that.”
At least the smell of weed overpowered the smell of Leo’s bloody shirt. “I gotta get back home anyways. Big day tomorrow.”
“Right. I’ll see you later Mr. Tarkesian.”
“See you later, Duck.”
~
“So what the hell am I lookin’ at here, Thacker?”
Arlo Thacker scratched his chin under his beard and wondered where he should start to explain. He had theories. He always had theories. His mind was a constant jumble of red string on the conspiracy board backdrop that was whatever environment he was in. He just didn’t know how to take what was in his head and make it the least bit understandable to anyone else. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Maddie.”
Madeline Cobb grimaced. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Alright, Mama.”
“Jesus, that’s worse.”
“Look,” Arlo Thacker paced along the edge of the clearing, his eyes fixed on the ground, “I tracked that thing through the woods and the trail ends here. There was a scuffle but, in the end, the great big boogly didn’t leave.”
“So, what? There’s some other group out there in Kepler fighting the abominations?”
Thacker frowned. “I don’t think so.” Madeline waited for him to continue. She was good about that. It was why he’d gone to her instead of Mike or Angelica. He waved her over and pointed. “Take a look at this other trail here. And this one, too.”
Her eyes went wide. “Shit, Thacker, you think this was just one person who did this?” Yeah, she always got it quick.
“Could be,” he said, “but you know, Madeline, the other weird thing is I combed the area and I didn’t find any bullet casings. Not a single one. Now what the hell do you think that means?”
“An axe? Some kinda hand weapon?” She leaned back and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Maybe we oughta check hospital records, see if anyone came in with suspicious injuries last night.”
“That’s gonna mean talking to Dr. Hansen again.”
They paused and then turned and said in unison, “Rock. Paper. Scissors. Go.”
“Dammit,” Arlo hissed.
Madeline laughed. “Nah, don’t worry, mountain man. I’ll do it.”
“You sure? You beat me fair and square.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll ask Jolene, she likes me.”
“That she does.”
“Was there anything else?
“Well,” Arlo traced the path with his eyes as far as he could from his spot in the fallen needles and the underbrush. “I found half a joint just down thataway. But honestly? I don’t think it’s relevant.”