Monster Hunter Bloodlines - eARC Larry Correia (all ebook reader .txt) 📖

as claws cut across the tile, shoved my pistol into its robed belly and pulled the trigger repeatedly. The monster grunted but didn’t go down. That wasn’t good. I’d never fought one before, but my Newbie classes had never mentioned reptoids being bulletproof.

I tried to angle the gun up toward its head, but claws flashed across my forearm and opened me up. Fat droplets of blood splattered on the wall. My STI went sliding across the floor.

“Shit!”

I narrowly dodged aside as the lightning-fast swipe of one hand ripped through my T-shirt and left four shallow lines across my chest. I thought I’d made it, but the reptoid kept spinning, and I’d forgotten they have tails.

Its tail swept my feet out from under me. I was briefly airborne. Then I hit the floor hard with my hip.

It was coming toward me, but I managed to get one boot up to kick it square in the face. There was a meaty crunch. It stumbled back into one of the stalls. The rags covering its face fell away, revealing a hideous lizard visage, bumpy skin, no nose, and an incredibly wide mouth filled with pointy teeth.

Reptoids are downright fugly.

It wiped its bloody nostril holes with the back of one hand, then swore at me in its weird hissing language. Or at least I was pretty sure it was swearing. I would be if I’d just gotten kicked in the mouth.

Milo was yelling in my ear, asking what was happening, but I was a little too busy to get on the radio. My STI was lying a few feet away. I rolled over and reached for it.

But the reptoid bent down and caught me by the ankle before I could grab my gun. It had a grip like a vise. My fingers were inches from the grip. Then the monster pulled, and it turned out that they weren’t just crazy fast, but also extremely strong. My body made a squeaking noise against the tile as I was dragged. Then it slung me around and launched me into the mirror.

The glass shattered as I bounced off the wall. That really hurt. I rolled across the sink and snapped the faucet off with my back. Water sprayed. Somehow, I managed to land mostly upright. It probably thought that toss had broken me, because it charged, hands extended, claws spread wide.

Only I wasn’t broken, I was just getting warmed up.

I stepped inside one of the arms, locked up on it, and then flipped the reptoid around hard. We both crashed into one of the stalls and the sheet metal walls collapsed around us. The other claw tried to disembowel me, but I struck that arm aside. We ended up sliding across the stall, me desperately holding onto each of its wrists. It had far more physical power than I did, but it had probably never fought a human being as strong as I was. It seemed a little taken aback that it hadn’t killed me yet.

We ended up face to scaly face. Its breath was hot and stank like roadkill. A forked tongue flicked out and hit me in the eye. I twisted my head back as those nasty teeth snapped shut half an inch from my cheek. So then I head-butted the fucker right in the snout. The yellow eyes blinked in surprise.

Then I threw a knee into its side and shoved off far enough to give me time to go for the fixed blade on my belt. I let go of its wrist, yanked out the little knife and went to stabbing.

It swung its claws at me, but it hadn’t seen the knife yet. I cut it across the bicep, through the robes, and deep into the muscle. Reptoid blood is so dark it’s almost purple, and I proceeded to paint the walls with it. The other arm came around, nearly tagged me, but I pushed back in right behind the attack, went up and over its defenses, and stabbed it in the side of the neck. The reptoid’s hands flew reflexively toward the wound, so I kicked it in the chest.

It flew back and cracked its head against the toilet, hard. That must have brained it, because it let go of its squirting neck, and sank slowly to the floor, bleeding out.

I stood there for a second, breathing heavily. I picked up my pistol and aimed it at the downed reptoid, but I was pretty sure it was done for. Then I realized my right arm was bleeding like crazy. Reptoids lived in sewers, so their claws had to be really unsanitary, so I went over and stuck my arm into the sink geyser. I winced as the spray turned pink. I could already tell that was going to need stiches.

I keyed my radio. “This is Pitt. I got attacked by a reptoid at the site where the tracker is. I’m injured but I don’t think it’s that bad.” The cut hurt like a son of a bitch, but it hadn’t hit any major veins or arteries. I’d get medical attention after we got that Ward Stone. Direct pressure would work for now. I looked around for paper towels to shove in the gash, but of course the bathroom only had one of those stupid air blowers. So I helped myself to a roll of toilet paper.

The bathroom door opened. I really hoped it was my fellow Hunters, and not more reptoids. A giant, hulking figure strolled into the room.

Only it was worse than reptoids.

“Franks,” I muttered.

“Pitt.” He didn’t seem surprised to see me or the destruction. The legendary MCB agent was wearing his usual cheap suit and clip-on tie, so muscular and intimidating that he made me look downright cuddly in comparison.

It had been a while since I’d seen my favorite made-out-of-spare-parts federal problem solver and all-around killing machine. “Is that a new nose?”

“Yeah . . . ” He took off his sunglasses, revealing his beady little eyes that had probably been scooped out of a death