Chương 146: Chapter 145 – Like Old Times

Solo hunting in the forest was nothing new. Hell, hunting predators wasn't even new. Cole had twice hunted mountain lions, and even a black bear on pest permits. The AR-15 in his basement wasn't just for show, after all. But none of them were a threat to him, not really. Sure, a mountain lion would tear your ass up and a black bear was still a bear, even if it had become too comfortable around campsites and dumpsters. But neither of them actively hunted humans to kill them—quite the opposite, really.

Both still needed to be tracked and pursued across the territory they ranged. On Curahee, anything moving would move with the purpose to kill him. There were no park rangers or game wardens, no skittish skunks or coyotes or raccoons. There were fungal zombies, wood men, and the swift scaled hounds. One of those hounds had almost taken a chunk out of his leg on his first trip. Now, he hunted the biggest one around. Recurring monsters was a strange concept to Cole.

DOR's limited understanding of LF worlds meant no one knew for sure why it happened. Maybe the Lewis Field was regenerating and spitting them back out, maybe the God of Curahee reincarnated them out of boredom or malice. Maybe it didn't even happen on every LF world, and here it was a result of the world-wide fungal infestation making sure nothing on Curahee ever truly died.

Cole loped north north-west toward Bessie's stomping ground, able to sense and avoid most of the smaller threats without wasting time or ammunition. The few he couldn't avoid, he took down quickly and quietly with his spear. He doubted the low-strength monsters were even significantly bumping him towards his next enhancement level. At this point he would need a Risk Index 3 or 4 world to make timely progress.

Traveling parallel to the river, Cole jogged up the west side, cutting through forest as fast as a marathon runner on a clear road while barely breathing hard. Bessie's territory butted up against the Silk Forest, and a journey that had taken him two days during his tryout only took him a couple hours, now.

"Check-in time," called Morganstern." All proctors sound off with location. Morganstern good, five klicks south of Last Fall Hold."" Arley good. Almost to the western castle ascent."" Ketchup good. Looking for Big Wood." Cole keyed his radio.

"Airborne good. Nine klicks south of Bessie's territory."" Good. Looks like that drone is doing its job. Next check-in time, 1800 hours." Good news for him that Ketchup hadn't managed to track down the five-headed wood ogre. But it wouldn't take him all night, and Cole had some ground to make up. He pushed on but slowed his pace a bit as he started to smell a difference in the air.

An acrid, pungent scent grew stronger the further north he pushed, and he finally spotted the source in several scorched trees that seemed to have been splattered with some caustic chemical. Pausing for a moment, Cole pulled out a chem-paper and tore it open to make sure there wasn't anything in the air strong enough to harm him. The markers didn't activate, so he continued on. Out somewhere to the east of him, something howled in a deep, almost metallic cry like an old, rusted dumpster being forced open.

Cole froze, immediately burning a half-charge to mark anything nearby. Soft red glows dotted his entire horizon, with a few larger shapes and concentrations, but nothing headed his immediate direction. He hadn't heard anything like that roar his first time on Curahee, but Bessie's domain was supposed to be further north and to the west a bit, wrapping around the western edge of the Silk Forest. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Considering for only a moment, Cole turned east and keyed his radio.

"Ketchup, you track that howl just now?"" Sure did, sounded northwest of my position. That was Bessie. Something's got her in a mood. Maybe she caught wind of you. Not that you need a hint, but suggest you find a tall tree." Strange. If she was coming after him, he couldn't see her on his marked target. That wasn't necessarily impossible as he'd run into the camouflaged critters on Babel that could disrupt his tracking. Just to be safe, he found a thick tree and scrambled ten meters or so up the trunk for a look.

But if she was to his east, then she was outside the area he'd been told to search. Not that otherworld monsters were perfectly predictable, but something about it still rubbed Cole the wrong way. After five minutes with no further sign, he dropped down and headed towards the source of the call. His path took him through a depression of bog under matted moss that soaked him up to his knees as he waded through, reaching the other side and climbing up a rise.

By the time he reached the top, it had started to rain, as well. He pulled out his rain poncho and wrapped it around himself." This feels familiar," he muttered. Well, he'd volunteered, after all. And it wasn't that bad. At least it wasn't the Georgia summer. From the top of the rise he looked out to the east, able to see a bend in the river through the canopy. To his southeast, something cracked in the woods on his side of the shore, and a handful of startled creatures took wing in alarm.

Cole pulled his snakebite rifle around and peered through the new sights. His Acuity worked its magic, filling his eye with the sight picture as though he looked through a magnified scope at the forest below. He caught one of the trees ahead as it shook against the direction of the wind and scanned below for any hint of movement. But the canopy was too thick. Sucking at his teeth in frustration, Cole lowered the rifle and put it back in the loops on his pack.

He slid down the side of the rise and headed towards the disturbance. Hunting with a fire lit under his ass wasn't as much fun as taking his time to stalk through the woods. Cole wouldn't sacrifice safety for haste, but he wouldn't dawdle, either. Not with five hundred bucks and his pride on the line. He jogged along the valley, eyes peeled, until an ear-splitting howl tore through the trees. Even through his ear-pro, it was loud enough to hurt, and it resonated in his chest.

Cole felt his heart start to beat faster and his throat begin to tighten. His hands shook, and he felt over-exposed. Every instinct told him to flee. No! He thought. He held his ground. Barely. This was an ability. It had to be. Bessie was using some fear-inducing roar, probably meant to flush prey out of hiding. As if he needed more evidence, two small creatures, like deer twisted into monsters by fungal growths, tore through the forest two hundred meters to his north.

Cole dropped to a crouch in the shadow of a large tree. Beneath his feet, the ground rumbled. Two scale hounds shot out of the forest, pouncing on one of the deer creatures and tearing its throat out. As the small monster began to ablate, the hounds not only tore at the flesh but also breathed in the black particles that drifted into the air, siphoning off… what, nutrition? Ethereal energy? Cole didn't exactly know how monsters fed off each other in an LF world.

Cole didn't have to wait long to see the source of the rumbling as a massive version of the scale hounds ripped its way through the underbrush with another half-dozen of the smaller ones in tow, ranging from the size of a German shepherd to the size of a small pony. They snapped at each other in its wake. Bessie herself was at least three meters tall and built like an English bulldog with massive front quarters and a crushed face with a serious underbite.

The red scales on her back and mane looked more like spikes, and burning liquid leaked from between her teeth. Bessie snapped at the two pups devouring the essence of the deer creature, forcing them away as it leaned forward and sucked in the rest of the creature, dissolving it before Cole's eyes. One of the smaller ones didn't appreciate its prey being stolen, and it sank its fangs into Bessie's leg. Bessie swatted it away, sending it spinning off into the side of a tree trunk, wounded.

It struggled to right itself, but Bessie didn't give it the chance. She opened her mouth and spat a narrow stream of flaming liquid that ignited the pup and ate away at the trunk of the tree behind it. Cole nearly gagged as the caustic smell of the spray reached him. He clapped a hand over his mouth and continued to observe. The drake pup shrieked and thrashed, but that was drowned out moments later as the tree gave way and toppled over, scattering Bessie's entourage.

Bessie moved to the torched pup and started siphoning away that one's ablated mass, too. Well, you didn't get that big by wasting food.