SNAFU: Hunters

Terry was the first to snap out of the trance. The damn thing couldn’t mind-fuck them both at the same time. But poor old Robbie Moore stood limply staring into its hideous yellow-gold eyes, utterly mesmerised. In the training exercise it had been Robbie that tried to save Terry’s arse from this exact same scenario. Now it was Terry’s chance to return the favour. He swung the M4 up and pointed it at the thing’s head. The capsule may not have real organophosphur in it, but he was betting a dollar to a doughnut a shot between the eyes would at least give the thing a nasty headache, and them the chance to exit stage left and run like hell.

The M4 misfired.

The click was enough to attract the Taint’s attention, and it snapped its head towards Terry. Warner dug deep and his training kicked in. He was a seasoned soldier. He knew now what he was facing. And he knew what this son of a bitch was capable of doing to a human body. Warner snarled. “Oh, hell no!” He spun the gun around, hoisted it up to shoulder level and pounded the butt straight into the face of the grinning monster once, twice, three times. A series of sickening cracks indicated that at least two nasal bones had shattered. The creature let out a yelp and recoiled from the makeshift battering ram slamming into its face. It was enough of a diversion to break the hold it had over Robbie Moore, and the man let out a gasp. “Jesus!”

“Fuck religion, mate, just run!” Terry grabbed his friend and pulled him towards the door.

If they had been running from a normal opponent, they might both have made it out. But this was a Taint. A big, ugly and very angry Taint. And Robbie Moore was just one step too close.

“Terry, go! For fuck’s sake, go!” Warner heard Robbie gasp as the Taint’s venom-filled talons grabbed his neck and curled around his friend’s throat. The tips of the talons punctured the man’s skin. One slid like a needle into his carotid artery, pumping toxins directly into Robbie’s bloodstream and straight up to his brain. His eyes rolled in their sockets and his oppo slumped straight into the welcoming arms of the Taint.

There was nothing Warner could do. The Taint started tearing into Robbie. Warner watched, utterly stunned, as the creature disembowelled his best friend right in front of his eyes.

He had no ammo. He had the Blackhawk, though. A mix of adrenaline and pure rage kicked in. “You mother-fucker!” Terry slid the knife out of its sheath, spun it in his hand and primed to launch himself towards the Taint. Go for the neck. Go in hard…

“No!” Through a froth of blood and bile, Robbie spluttered his last words. “No, mate, run! Get out! Ru…” An explosion of foaming blood poured out of the dying man’s mouth and he went limp. His feet jerked and twitched for a few seconds, and then stilled.

The Taint slowly looked up at Warner, a blood-smeared monstrosity – a creature from the worst possible nightmare imaginable. A slow smile spread over its face and it scooped out a handful of stuff that should have really stayed inside Robbie’s stomach cavity. The gurning creature held out the handful of intestines towards Terry and in a rasping, guttural voice, spoke two words, “You. Next.” The creature’s grin widened and he recoiled his sinewy arm and stuffed the blood-soaked intestines into its maw.

There was nothing more Terry could do for Robbie. The Blackhawk suddenly seemed about as useful as a penknife. And as much as he wanted to attack the creature right here, right now, he knew it was suicide to do so. A good hunter hunted. They didn’t become the prey because they got all emotional and unnecessary.

Get out.

Regroup.

Find Flynn.

And then come back in with a shit-load of guns and hunt this bastard down before it escaped beyond the boundaries of the kill house and out into the community.

He let out a scream of rage and glared at the Taint. “You and me, Binky! This ain’t over! This ain’t fucking over!” Warner took one last look at the remains of his oppo, turned, and ran…

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