10-30 Chap 1 redux Moose42's MHI Fan Fiction *Spoiler Alert*

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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 6 posted 8/19)

Post by moose42 »

Hi guys I want to add this to the description of Grandpa Millers Ka-Bar, in chapter 5. Calling all Latin majors.
Inlaid in silver down the length of the blade were the words, “Tergum Ut Abyssus!” I looked at Earl with a puzzled look; I had always hated Latin in high school.

“Back to Hell!” he explained.
Please let me know if you have a better Latin phrase to use.

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Chapter 6
Training

“Ready on the line!” Sam Haven the range master bellowed so we could hear over our hearing protection. “Commence firing!” all the other trainees fired immediately. I took my time, the target wasn't going anywhere. The front sight, rear sight and black bull’s-eye aligned perfectly, I held my breath and gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle barked, the rifle gently recoiled into my shoulder; the smell of burning gunpowder hit the air. The bullet flew down range and hit the black.

I cycled the bolt loading another .22 caliber cartridge into the chamber. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, squeeze, bang! I fired slowly and methodically taking my time to try and exactly duplicate each shot. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, pause. I hadn't liked how I was lined up on the target so I started over. Front sight, rear sight, target, breath, squeeze, bang! I was the last to finish firing; as I put the safety on the rifle, pulled the bolt to the rear and set it down on the bench. The trainee next to me, a skinny young Asian named Kim had thrown his rounds down range almost as fast as he could cycle the action.

“Cease Fire!” The range master yelled. On the firing line the range master was a god, you did what he said or faced ejection. “Take off your eyes and ears.” We removed our hearing protection and shooting glasses. “Let’s take a look at your targets.”

We were shooting on the fifty foot range. This was a preliminary test to see how well we could shoot before we were broken into training groups based on skill. Some of the new recruits had never fired a weapon before.

We walked out to the first target as a group, only two rounds had hit the paper, high and to the right. “Whose target is this?” Sam the tall imposing cowboy asked.

Gingerly Sara raised her hand. “It's mine sir.” She said timidly, she had been a waitress before and had obviously no experience with firearms.

Gently he explained “Looks like you are jerking the trigger. Your whole hand is moving when you shoot. Try to concentrate on moving just your trigger finger, nothing else should be moving.” he held up his hand. He slowly moved just his trigger finger in a controlled slow movement. “When you jerk it this happens.” he moved his whole hand backward in a rapid motion. “That will move the whole rifle and cause your shots to go who knows where.” Sara nodded.

We moved down the line at each target he would take his time to explain what the shooter had done wrong and explain to them and the entire class what to do to correct it.

Then he came down to my target. “Who's target is this?”

I raised my hand, “Mine sir!” I boasted slightly.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” he asked. All of my rounds had hit in the black. Four of the rounds were touching, and the fifth wasn't that far off.

“Scout camp sir.” I said proudly.

Sam smiled, “Are you an Eagle scout?”

“Yes Sir!” I smiled back.

We returned to our shooting positions and fired at the remaining four targets. Most of the students improved a little with the instructions given by Sam, but most had a long way to go.

We were dismissed for lunch and I was itching to talk to Kat. She was put in another training group, and I hadn't seen her for most of the day. I was thinking about her when we were crossing the exercise field, and didn't see the gopher hole.

“Son of a...!” I yelled as I fell to the ground, I could already tell that I had messed up my ankle. Kim and Sara laughed when they saw me fall.

“Looks like Mister Boy Scout isn't so perfect after all!” I glared up at her from the ground, she just kept walking.

Kim laughed at me, “Dude first day on your new feet?” I gritted my teeth and tried to get up. Fire shot up my ankle. Kim extended a hand and I waved him off.

“I am just fine!” I lied. I pulled myself up and tried to step on my wounded foot. Big mistake, flaming nails shot through my foot, and I swayed precariously.

Kim grabbed a hold of me to keep me from falling on my face again. “Whoa slow down hot shot. Let me help you.” I reluctantly let him help me across the field and into the main compound. “We need to get you to the Doc.”

I shook my head, “Let’s get lunch first I am starving, then I'll go to the doc.” I actually wasn't that hungry but I didn't want to miss a chance to see Kat.

“Alright it’s your funeral not mine.”

I hobbled into the cafeteria and found a seat no sooner did I sit down Kat's training group arrived. They had just gotten out of Introduction to Monsters 101. When she saw me she smiled. I forgot my pain and smiled back. She sat across the table from me, “So how did you do?” she asked.

“Oh not too bad, I qualified for the advanced shooting group.” I said with a bit too much pride.

“Really? Me too!” She wore a mischievous grin. “Looks like I can't get rid of you, I knew I should have shot a beginners score.”

I rolled my eyes, “Sure, whatever you say Annie Oakley.”

The next couple of weeks flew by; thankfully my ankle recovered, I only had to miss two exercise sessions, they made me pay penance for it by working in the kitchen.

We covered small unit tactics with drills on close quarters combat, hand to hand fighting, advanced marksmanship, in-depth monster behaviors and weaknesses. Nearly every minute of each day was filled with something to help us survive our first monster hunt, and hopefully our second.

The instructors didn’t sugar coat the truth, casualty rates for first year Hunters was very high. This was a sobering thought, since statistics like that don’t really hit home until you know someone who has died. My grandfather had been a Hunter for over thirty years when he died. He was about ready to retire when that servant of evil killed him.

I won’t go into detail about the decapitation class, some things I would just rather forget. Suffice it to say, when dealing with vampires, the best way to keep them dead is cutting off the head.

Today we would be issued our armor. Only the recruits who made it into the final stage of training were issued armor. Out of the original group of fifty five recruits only eighteen remained. Thankfully Sara decided to return to waitressing, while Kim and Katherine had decided to stay. Kat had such a fire and determination behind her deep brown eyes, she would never quit. During the times when I had my doubts and thoughts of quitting and going back to pulling cables I would think of her and how I couldn’t let her beat me.

I struggled into my armor, I hadn’t ever worn anything like this before. I opted for the Olive drab color. Charles Brewer, already had his Brown armor on and it looked like it was made for him, everything was perfectly in its place. He had served in the Marines for just over 15 years until a blow to the head had caused him to lose a little of his peripheral vision in one eye. He fought his medical discharge saying he could still fight and shoot with the best of them. But the government prevailed and forced him out. We had hit it off right away when he found out my Grandfather was a former Marine and Hunter. I called him Gunny, or Sarge.

“Miller, let me help you, you’re just going to make it worse!” He said as I struggled with the tangled mess I was trying to put on. He came over and started tugging at the straps on my armor.

I sighed, “Gunny, how did you guys ever fight wearing this stuff?” He ignored me and continued to straighten out my harness.

“There you go boy, but don’t expect me to hold your hand next time!” he gave me a couple of friendly smacks on the shoulder and we left the barracks to meet the rest of the team assembled on the exercise field, for uniform inspection.

We came around the barracks and I saw Kat all dressed up in her dark green armor, even under the layers of heavy duty nylon and Kevlar she looked great. When she saw Sarge and I walking up she smiled, a pure feminine smile that made me weak in the knees.

Sarge elbowed me in the ribs, even beneath armor it still hurt. “Snap out of it lover boy, you were practically drooling.”

I punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I was not.” I was about to go up to talk to Kat when Milo yelled for us to line up. We quickly found our places in line and he came around to inspect each of us. Milo was the resident crazy inventor and handyman. He had returned last week from his honeymoon with his new wife Shauna.

When it was my turn to be inspected he rolled his eyes and went to work adjusting my armor. He took one look at Gunny and just nodded.

As we were about to be dismissed a siren sounded from multiple loud speakers. None of us trainees were armed; Milo just had a 1911 pistol on his belt.

The siren cut off, Dorcas yelled into the microphone. “This is not a drill, perimeter breach northwest corner behind the men’s barracks, this is not a drill!” I suddenly realized we were just on the other side of the barracks from whatever it was that had just hopped the fence.

Gunny grabbed my arm and we ran toward the main compound. Kat, Kim and others were already ahead of us. We had been instructed to seek shelter in the basement of the primary compound in the event of an emergency. Milo was running and firing his .45 over his shoulder at whatever was chasing us, which made me run even faster. In seconds the slide locked back on his pistol and he hastily reached for a new magazine.

The compound was still a hundred yards away when decided to look over my shoulder, ten ghastly grey former human shapes were closing the distance incredibly fast. I poured on as much speed as I could muster while wearing combat boots and heavy armor, but I knew they would overtake us and rip us apart with their ghastly claws.

Hunters poured out of the main compound brandishing rifles and pointed them right at us. Sam Haven still wearing his Stetson hat bellowed. “Get down!” We hit the dirt and the hunters opened up on the monsters.

I lay on the ground as hundreds of rounds ripped by inches above my head. Kat was off to my left, she tried to cover her head with her arms, and she glanced at me, her face was a mask of fear and panic. I am sure I didn’t look any better. I pulled grandpa’s Ka-Bar knife out of its old leather sheath, if some dammed undead somehow made it through the withering hail of gunfire I wanted a fighting chance.

I rolled over on my back and looked back at the approaching enemy. A wight collapsed only twenty feet away. I heard barking and saw from the corner of my eye a large dog. Vampire dogs? Those hadn’t been covered in class. More shots were fired and the dog whimpered but it was too late.

Snarling undead teeth lunged for my neck; I shoved my thumb in its glowing red eye and grabbed a handful of matted hair and ear. I plunged the Ka-Bar knife deep into the dead dog’s neck. Black blood sprayed everywhere. The beast thrashed trying to get its head free to rip out my throat. I kicked it with both legs somehow sending it airborne. In an amazing feat of marksmanship Sam nailed the beast in mid air with his massive lever action rifle. It fell in a heap of twisted legs and gore. The guns had gone silent; the danger was over for now.

I lay on the ground breathing heavily, Kat ran over to me. “Marty are you ok?” she looked down at me her face worried.

I stretched out my hand; it took two of them to get me back on my feet. “I think so.” I looked over at the twice dead mutt and asked. “What was that thing?”

Sam took off his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That there is a Demon Dog, Dead Dog, or Devil Dog.” He said. Gunny took offense to the term Devil Dog. Only US Marines were called that. “The important thing is these beasts are pets and servants of Master vampires.”

I shuddered, “Why would they be so brazen and attack the MHI compound directly in broad daylight?”

Kim who was crouched down next to one of the dead wights, spoke up “Guys, I think I know why. Look.”

The wight was lying on its back, written in red human blood on its chest was “Feast upon the blood of Miller!” Every wight had the same message written on their chests.

I threw up.
Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 6) New 8/19

Post by HTRN »

You going to "Tuckerize" any of the us?


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HTRN, I would tell you that you are an evil fucker, but you probably get that a lot ~ Netpackrat

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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 6) New 8/19

Post by moose42 »

If by "Tuckerize" you are saying put one of the members of the forum in the story. I don't think so. I already stole the gas station standoff scene from the Irish Mob. :lol: (Hopefully that's ok.)

I would love to put Eugene in the story but I don't think I would be able to do him justice.

I would also love to do the Badger story but I can't figure out how to get an MHI Hunter unarmed during a mission. Maybe on a dare?
Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 7) New 8/20

Post by moose42 »

Chapter 7
Why?

Why did a master vampire want me dead? Why would they have been so brazen to attack us in broad daylight? My mind raced as I sat in the cafeteria drinking a cold glass of lemonade.

Everyone in the compound was carrying a rifle now, even the administrative staff. I had my M14 EBR clone twenty rounds of silver .308 in the rifle and six extra magazines on my vest, plus my sidearm, two extra pistol magazines, and grandpa’s knife, man that weighs a lot.

Kat came up and sat down next to me, she was carrying her M4 and Glock. Nobody else in the compound seemed to want to come near me. Training had been canceled for the rest of the day and the senior hunters were having a meeting without us greenies.

“Hey.” She said softly “Want to talk?”

I didn’t even with her. “Not really.” I muttered, and stared at my drink.

“Drowning your sorrows in a glass of lemonade?” She chortled “Weak!”

I rolled my eyes, “What do you want?”

“Being marked for death can’t be an easy thing to live with Marty.” She tried to console me.

I leaned in close to Kat and whispered “Want to know what I think?” she shrugged, “I think we have a mole.” She didn’t say anything right away.

“You mean someone here is working for a vampire?” she said in disbelief.

“Yes, I don’t know how or why but it’s the only thing that makes sense.” I leaned back and took a sip of my sugary drink. We sat in silence for a while, both trying to figure out who it could be.

A large hunter I hadn’t seen before dressed in a brown uniform and carrying a massive Saiga shotgun came up to the table. He was wearing the Green horned Patch of Harbinger’s team. I stood up. “Sir?”

He shook his head. “Call me Owen?” he said as he shook my hand. I had always considered myself a big guy but his massive hands dwarfed my own. “We’ve been having quite the discussion about you Martin.”

I looked down, ashamed, “I knew it, you guys are going to kick me out.”

“What?” Owens’ eyes widened in surprise. “Oh hell no, what made you think that?”

I frowned “Well I brought danger to the company, and I...”

He cut me off. “Well stop thinking like that, if we sent you out of these gates alone you would probably be killed before you got to Montgomery.” A big icy pit formed in my stomach, I felt sick.

“I didn’t think of it that way.” I stammered.

Kat laughed, “You know Moose, for a computer nerd you aren’t very smart.”

“I’m a geek not a nerd.” I replied. I didn’t feel like laughing.

Owen smiled at Kat, and offered her his hand, “You must be Katherine. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

She took his hand and pumped it twice, “Call me Kat,” she said as she released his grip. “How did you know…”

Owen chuckled, “I heard you two were all but joined at the hip.” She scowled at that but couldn’t deny the truth. He looked back at me, “Martin, the rest of the senior hunters would like to have a word with you.”

I nodded “Lead the way.”

Owen took me to the top floor of the building and we entered a conference room. A large table dominated the center of the room. Earl, Milo, Stan, Sam, and a woman I didn’t recognize were sitting at the table. I gulped, they didn’t look happy.

“Marty, please come in and have a seat, you can place your rifle on the rack by the door.” Milo instructed me. I did as I was told and took a seat at the head of the table. Owen went over to the beauty and kissed her. He introduced me to his wife Julie.

“Let’s get down to business,” Julie started, “We have brought you here to find out why you have been marked for death by a master vampire.”

Milo interrupted, “Yeah so spill your guts son.”

I didn’t like his choice of words and I could tell by the look on her face Julie didn’t either. “I…don’t know.” I stammered.

Stan scowled, I hadn’t seen him since Boise, his gaze was intimidating, “Cut the crap Miller!” he growled, “Death and destruction have followed you all the way here.”

I thought about my misadventures just getting to training and nodded. “I do have a theory.” I offered. They waited for me to explain. The silence was deafening, I could hear the buzz of the overhead florescent lights. “I think there is a mole in MHI.” I cringed waiting for the backlash that I was sure would come, it didn’t.

After a bit I looked up and saw the hunters exchanging glances and whispers. Harbinger rubbed his forehead. “We have never suspected the possibility of a mole within MHI before. But it now appears probably that someone may be in league with a master vampire.” He leaned back and lit a cigar.

Julie asked. “Do you have any idea why a vampire would want your blood so badly that it would throw away its minions in a futile daylight attack?”

I shrugged, “I dunno, but I think it was some kind of sick message. It was like it knew its minions would fail but victory wasn’t the plan. Why else would the wights have been marked up like that? Vampires don’t usually advertise their intentions.”

The ‘interrogation’ continued round the table, I answered every question as best I could, but it didn’t seem like we were getting anywhere. Until Owen asked me a strange question, “Marty, how have your dreams been?”

Besides the naughty ones with Kat and the zombie nightmares everything was normal. “Umm, I don’t know what my dreams have to do with anything.”

“Look Marty,” Owen was completely serious, “I didn’t believe it at first but when I first became a Hunter I had dreams that were vital to our defeating the Cursed One. So please tell us everything, you never can tell what might be important.”

I sighed, “I’ve had nightmares of Zombies chasing me down an alley and while I cornered like a rat they pulled a Braveheart on me.”

“So they yelled FREEDOM!” Milo joked, I just shook my head.

Earl looked at me like he was inspecting a side of beef. “Martin, have you had any dreams about your grandfather?”

I shook my head “No, I haven’t…” then the memory from the Ambulance came back to me. “Wait. When I was being rushed to the hospital Roy came to me, but it wasn’t a dream, he was there. The paramedics asked who I was talking to.”

They were hanging on my every word. “What did he say?” Owen prompted.

I rubbed my temples my head felt like it was about to split open and spill my brains out onto the table. “Your work on earth isn’t finished, and you look like crap.” A couple of the hunters chuckled. “He went on to say he was my guardian angel, and that monsters and demons were real, and I should be more careful.” We sat in silence once again. “That was the last time I saw him.”

“Did he have wings?” Stan asked.

I snorted, “No he looked just like he did the last time I saw him before he died, wearing Jeans and a button up shirt.”

Owen probed for more. “Do you remember anything else?”

I thought harder, “Actually yes, he said something about, ‘Seeing through the Veil.’ And he quoted Jeremiah chapter… eight, verse... something.”

Julie ordered “Milo, Bible, now.”

Milo frowned, “But it’s all the way out in…”

“Now!” she snapped. He didn’t argue anymore, he got up and went to go get his scriptures.

Harbinger was puffing away on his cigar, “Well let’s switch gears.” He said, “What about this whole ‘Feast upon the blood of Miller’ crap.”

The discussion went around and around for a while, vampires don’t leave notes for their victims, but there was no denying that this one did. Milo finally returned with his scriptures and opened up the book of Jeremiah, chapter 8. He read the entire chapter until I recognized the verse my grandfather had recited number 17.

“For, behold, I will send serpents, cockatrices, among you, which will not be charmed, and they shall bite you, saith the Lord.” Milo read.

“Well that really helps.” Stan muttered

Just then there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Julie called out.

The door opened a couple of inches; it was Katherine, “Pardon the intrusion but I think figured out something that might help.”

“Well come in and tell us then.” Julie ordered.

Kat came in and placed her M-4 carbine on the rifle rack, it was starting to look like we had opened up our own gun store in the conference room. “I’ve been thinking about the message the wights ‘delivered’ today.” She paused “Feast upon the BLOOD of Miller.” She emphasized blood. “At first I thought that they were just supposed to kill Marty and drink his blood.”

Sam interrupted, “But that’s what they were going to do. All of the beasts ignored the rest of you meat sacks and went straight for Miller.” He said as he absent mindedly twisted his mustache.

Julie shot him an evil eye that could have burned through steel, “Please continue Kat.”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and continued, “Well then I remembered from the monster behavior class that wights don’t drink blood, they feast upon the flesh.” She paused, I could tell she was struggling with what to say next. “Blood in this case would mean the children or grandchildren of Roy Miller.”

An eerie silence came upon the room; no one spoke for the longest time. A short span of eternity later I realized they were all looking at me.

“My Brother; He and I are the last ‘blood’ of the Miller line.” The icy pit in the bottom of my stomach swelled, and tried to rip itself out of my chest. “From ’93 till now all of my aunts, uncles and cousins died a couple of car accidents, a rock climbing incident, two swimming deaths and a mountain lion attack.”

“What about your father?” Julie asked.

I tried to keep it together but I failed “My father… he died when I was an infant.” I blubbered. It was too much; the tragic deaths of my family members that I had believed my whole life were accidents, were murders. Whoever was behind this had taken great pains to make them look like normal, everyday deaths.

My brother would be next! “I need a phone now!” I yelled.
Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 6) New 8/19

Post by HTRN »

moose42 wrote:If by "Tuckerize" you are saying put one of the members of the forum in the story
Yup, the associated term "redshirting" means to include people, and then kill off the character. Both are terms from Baens bar, both done by a number of baens authors - the most notorious is "Joe Buckley" who has been redshirted in a half dozen diffferent novels. He operates the fifth imperium website.


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HTRN, I would tell you that you are an evil fucker, but you probably get that a lot ~ Netpackrat

Describing what HTRN does as "antics" is like describing the wreck of the Titanic as "a minor boating incident" ~ First Shirt
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 7) New 8/20

Post by moose42 »

Ok guys I changed the leading lady's name from Katherine to Katrina. It just sounds better to me and the transition from Katrina to Kat, works better. I don't know if this is going to be a stand alone chapter 8 or if I am going to add more to the chapter but it is what it is.
Chapter 8
Little Brother

The phone rang again; time seemed to crawl as I waited for him to answer. Finally after four rings he picked up the phone. “Hello?” Yes! He was still alive.

“Mike hey, it’s me!” I called out to the phone sitting at the table.

“Marty? Hey man how’s college? Why are you on a speaker phone?” He sounded annoyed.

I ignored his questions. “Long story, but now you need to shut up and listen to your big brother.” I took a deep breath. “Do you still have your shotgun?” I asked.

I could tell he was rolling his eyes thousands of miles away. “Yeah why? Are you going to tell me about another great deal you got on a gun?” My brother was not as into firearms as I was.

I put on as stern of a voice as I could muster, “Mike listen to me very carefully, I need you to go get your shotgun and load it with the largest shot you have. Keep it within reach at all times, stay home, don’t go to your D&D party. You are in danger.”

“Marty, what is this crap? Is this another one of your games or conspiracy theories?” he sounded annoyed.

I knew he would be difficult, he always was. “Mike this is no freaking joke! I pissed off the wrong people and we believe they may be coming to kill you in retribution.” He didn’t answer, for a moment all we could hear was the soundtrack from the ‘World of Warriors’ game in the background.

“You’re serious? Why would anyone want to kill me?” He sounded stunned, swords clanged in the video game.

“That doesn’t matter now listen to what Stan tells you to do.” I prayed he would actually listen.

Stan spoke slowly and clearly, “Mike, my name is Stan Adams, I work with your brother, I need you to listen carefully to these instructions. Are you listening or playing your stupid game?”

The noise from the computer abruptly stopped. “I’m listening.”

“A team from our company will arrive in a few minutes to take you to a safe house. They will give you the password ‘Football Team.’ Your response if you are ok should be ‘Boise State’ if something is wrong say ‘Idaho Vandals.’ Got it?”

“Yeah ‘Boise State’ good, ‘Vandals’ bad, funny.” He replied his he sounded a bit shaken. My brother had just been given a healthy dose of fear.

“Oh and Mike if someone comes to the door with the wrong password I need you to shoot through the door, do NOT under any circumstances open the door to anyone else. Got it?” Stan sounded like a football coach in the locker room right before the championship game.

“I think I am gonna’ throw up.” He sounded weak.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Stan chuckled.

I sighed, “Mike, go get your shotgun.” I reminded him. He complied and we heard the zipper fly open on his soft gun case. Snick, snick, snick, went the shells into the tubular magazine.

“Ok, I’ve got it.” Came the reply.

“You might want to put one in the chamber.” I said as I shook my head. Shuck, shuck, the familiar sound of the pump on the 870 came through the speaker phone.

We kept him talking for the next ten minutes; I could tell he was scared. I’m sure he was hoping I would at any time yell April Fools, but it was September. Waiting for Stan’s rescue team was unbearable.

“Someone’s at the door.” Mike gasped.

In my right ear I heard Stan’s voice on the radio. “That’s the rescue team. Have him challenge for the password.” Stan had gone into the room next door to direct his rescue team lest my Brother overhear them talking.

“Alright little brother, Stan is telling me that should be his team, go to the top of the stairs and ask them for the password.” I said as encouraging as possible.

We heard some scuffling noises as he put the phone in his shirt pocket. There came another knock at the door. “Password!” he yelled out his voice screeched in terror.

The reply was muffled but audible. “Football Team!” the man at the door called out.

Mike let out the breath he had been holding, “Boise… Boise State! It’s them! There here!” He picked up his phone again. He sounded like he was on the verge of crying.

“Tell him to put down the shotgun and open the door.” Stan’s voice buzzed in my ear.

“Mike, I need you to put down the gun and open the door.” He did. Four heavily armed hunters entered the room; we heard them call ‘clear’ over the speaker phone.

“We have the principal, moving to the vehicles.” I heard through my headset, Stan had patched me into the teams’ radio. “Entering the vehicles.” I heard the doors of a suburban open, and the engines start. “Rescue team vehicles one and two moving to safe house.”

Mike came back on the phone, “Thanks big brother, I…” He was cut off, squealing brakes and the sickening sound of breaking glass filled my ears.

“Mike! MIKE! What’s happening?” I yelled.

“Vandals! Vandals! Idaho freaking Vandals!” he yelled. A horrible noise of metal tearing filled the room, then automatic fire from multiple weapons. All hell had broken loose.

Stan yelled into the radio, “Rescue one and two what’s your status over!” More yelling and gunfire, then the speaker phone blared dial tone.

In hurriedly dialed my brother’s cell phone again. “The subscriber you are calling is no longer in service.” The computer voice greeted me. I hung up. I could hear more gunshots in my earpiece. I ran to the next room where Stan and Milo were running the HQ, Kat and the others followed. For the next few moments we heard sporadic gunshots, followed by an eerie silence.

“Rescue team, Dan, Geoff, Frank, Tom, somebody please respond!” Stan yelled at the radio. I felt completely helpless. For the longest time all we heard was static.

Finally a voice came on the radio “H.Q. this is Dan. I’m wounded… attacked by multiple vampires, and a gargoyle.”

“What is the status of the principal?” Stan questioned. I bit my lower lip.

“Unknown,” Dan coughed. “The bloody gargoyle took him!”

Frank is ok, Geoff is down but still breathing, Tom is…” we heard the sound of Dan retching. “He is… in pieces.”

Kat came over and put her hand in mine, we didn’t speak.

***
Last edited by moose42 on Fri Aug 21, 2009 7:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 8) New 8/21

Post by moose42 »

(Chapter 8 continued)

I tried to sleep on a cot in the cold, dark concrete room. Pitt and Harbinger thought it best that I didn’t sleep in the barracks with the other recruits. I had been taken down into the basement into a concrete room with a solid steel door. For a while I thought I was being put in jail, but since I still had my weapon and ammo, and the door wasn’t locked I guess they figured this was the safest room for me to spend the night in.

It took me forever to fall asleep; between the faint smell of rotting meat, the strange scratches all over the walls and door, and my mind working overtime I struggled to catch some shut eye.

I had argued that we needed to go find my brother immediately but my idea was shot down. We didn’t know where they had taken my brother, and going after vampires at night was a quick way to commit suicide.

My eyelids were heavy as I looked at the odd scratch marks all over the ceiling. The light from a single bare bulb lit the room with a strange glow. I heard some footsteps, but the door hadn’t opened, A man was walking toward me dressed in street clothes. Was it a vampire coming to feast on my blood? I tried to move, and reach for my pistol but I found my limbs didn't move right.

“Marty.” a familiar voice called out, “It’s me, grandpa.” I sighed in relief, I could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Grandpa, why can’t I move?” I asked.

He sat down on the cot next to me, “You are in a state between dreaming and consciousness.” He paused, “It is in this state where you can look through the veil and see spirits. You don’t have full control of your physical body right now.” He explained.

“How do I know it’s really you and not some impostor?” I asked.

Grandpa Miller nodded. “Considering all you’ve been through that’s a fair enough question to ask.” He took my hand in his. I felt a cool breeze on a hot summers evening, the taste of sipping ice-cold lemonade on the front porch and the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls coming from grandma’s kitchen. “It’s me Marty.” I knew it was him.

I suddenly remembered my brother, “What happened to Michael? Is he dead? Do you know where they took him?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know where he is, but he is still alive. He is suffering and afraid, but they want him alive. They haven’t even fed of his blood yet.”

I began to hyperventilate. “How can you not know where they took him? You’re a ghost for crying out loud!”

I could tell he was disappointed, the way he looked at me made feel like I had just struck out at the bottom of the 9th inning with bases loaded. “Spirit not ghost.” He muttered, “Look grandson, I wish it were that easy, but vampires have dark powers that mask their presence.” He saw his old Ka-Bar. “I see Harbinger gave you my old knife.” It was sitting on my pile of gear next to the cot.

He pulled the knife out of its sheath and ran his thumb across the blade. “Still sharp, but not sharp enough, boy.” I didn’t really understand how a man without a body could do that. “Sharpen her well, I have a feeling you will need to send some vicious fiends back to hell soon enough. He put the old Ka-Bar back in its sheath and stood up to leave.

“Grandpa?” I called out.

“Yes grandson?” He looked back over his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

He furrowed his brow, “For what?”

I paused, “For raising me when I was a kid.”

He smiled; a comforting warmth surround me. “You’re welcome.” He looked like he had just remembered something important. “Oh and tell Harbinger he still owes me for saving his ass back in Carlsbad.”

The door flung open and Harbinger rushed in, I sat up, shaking the cobwebs from my eyes. “Grandpa?” I looked over to where he was standing but he wasn’t there.

Harbinger looked at me then back at where Grandpa Miller had been moments ago. “Roy was, or is here?” He asked. I nodded. “What did he say?”

“How did you know he was here?” I asked. Earl muttered something about being sensitive to the other side.

“What did he say?” He insisted.

“Well you won’t like it. He said you owe him for saving your ass in Carlsbad.”

He didn’t; Harbinger glared at a dark corner of the room and yelled out. “Roy, just be glad you’re already dead or I would be kicking your… ack.” Suddenly he couldn’t speak, his eyes widened in surprise. Earl looked at me and mouthed frantically trying to speak, but no sound came out.

“Grandpa?” I called out to the near empty room. Earl was able to speak again, a torrent of foul language that would make a seasoned drill instructor blush spilled out of his mouth. I cringed.

“Listen here Miller, you tell your grandfather if he tries anything like that again I will kill him!” He roared at me, inches from my face.

I nervously chuckled “But he’s already dead? How are you going…” I didn’t have to finish my question, as soon as he realized how foolish his threat was, Harbinger stormed out without another word.
Last edited by moose42 on Sun Aug 23, 2009 6:06 am, edited 3 times in total.
Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
Alone: King of One
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JKosprey
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 8 + Part 2) New 8/21

Post by JKosprey »

Good stuff-keep it up! I'm going back and forth between reading the original and this though, and it's confusing not to mix up events!
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moose42
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Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 8 + Part 2) New 8/21

Post by moose42 »

Well I think I am going to hang this up for a few days, at least over the weekend, because I have run into a
banghead.gif
writers block.

Question, what airlift does MHI have? Just the Hind or did the book mention other aircraft? I don't have the book with me to look for it. Would a C-130 be unrealistic or is there a Russian C-130 like aircraft they would more likely have?
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Years from now our children and grandchildren living in a 3rd world America will ask "What were you doing on March 21st 2010 and why didn't you stop it?"
--Me

Come check out my blog where I share my crazy sci-fi and fantasy fiction.
Alone: King of One
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Durham68
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Joined: Tue Aug 19, 2008 3:36 am

Re: MHI Fan Fiction (Chapter 8 + Part 2) New 8/21

Post by Durham68 »

JKosprey wrote:Good stuff-keep it up!
+1
I'm really starting to enjoy the story. You're getting better with every chapter. This is exactly what I needed to ward off the withdrawl symptoms waiting for MHI 2.
"Unattended children will be given an espresso and a puppy"
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