Wolf and Red: Odd Job

From Soldier of the Fantastic, Issue #125

Being a professional mercenary and monster hunter pays okay, only. Yes, it sounds glamorous at first, going to distant parts of the world, meeting interesting people and killing them, but quite often it was only a break even proposition. And of course there are the times you end up taking a loss, like when your employer buys it.

So the first rule of mercenaries is this: Get paid in advance! And if you can't do that, get a good advance. The standard is half your pay in advance, half on completion of the job. And remember to negotiate expenses separate!

Wolf looked at her partner with some amusement, her shaggy brown hair falling around her face. She usually chopped it short when they got a job, and let it grow out a bit between assignments as they hung out in their apartment. "Still trying to come up with something to write?" she asked.

Red pouted, sitting on the couch with Wolf, her laptop across her shapely legs. Like most mercs she traveled light, so she had invested in a moderately priced laptop rather than a PC. It was small, fast, and if all hell broke loose they could stuff the thing in a bag and bolt.

"Yeah," Red admitted as she stretched out her legs on their couch and wiggled bare toes, "Soldier of the Fantastic liked my earlier piece and want more. The problem is I'm not sure what to write about."

"Write about us," Wolf shrugged. She had the usual devil may care attitude most werewolves had, generally. Red figured the near invulnerability might be the cause, or maybe their being more in touch with their inner puppy.

"I thought we were trying not to be noticed TOO much?" Red asked Wolf wryly, her red-brown hair flowing down her back. There were a lot of dangerous occult critters out there, and at least some did not appreciate having the light of publicity shone on them. In fact more than a few were willing to kill to stay hidden.

"Well, leave out the werewolf bits," Wolf said breezily as she kissed Red's neck, "you can even change our names if you like."

Red cooed softly, arching up her neck to be kissed. "You know," she mused as she began to type, "that's not a bad idea."

For Soldier of the Fantastic, Issue #144

The critical thing about dealing with a zombie infestation is to get in there early! This goes for employers too, the absolute worse thing you can do in a zombie attack is dawdle. Most, if not all zombies, are infected with a virus that is both incredibly resistant to treatment and is virulent as hell. The only way a small group of mercenaries can deal with such an attack is to get in fast, confine the zombies to a small area and burn them out.

And don't assume that just head shooting a zombie will kill it. While zombies are not as tough as vampires and other undead, they are incredibly fucking resilient. They can shrug off fatal damage to any normal person, and can stitch themselves back together enough to attack again even after what should be crippling wounds. You can't just kill it, you must destroy it!

Once zombies completely break containment or have spread out too far to be contained, you're left with only one option left. Carpet bomb the whole region, innocents be damned, until nothing is left standing. I know it seems harsh and cruel, but once things have reached that point you're facing zombie apocalypse conditions.

Or as a wise man once said: Nuke it from orbit, it's the only way to be sure.

"That is totally ripping off Aliens," Wolf noted mildly, reading over her shoulder.

"You wanna write this?" Red asked wryly.

"Nah, you're doing fine," Wolf laughed.

We were called in by the World Health Organization, of all people, when their agents stopped reporting in from a remote Chinese village. The WHO monitors disease outbreaks around the world, as well as publishing alerts on a major health crisis like H1N1. What most people don't know is that people working for WHO tend to run into a lot of stuff that's from the supernatural side of the tracks, and occasionally have to call in people like us.

Just getting INTO China was a bitch and a half. We couldn't enter as soldiers of fortune, obviously, and getting good fake papers is a bitch. Instead we had to go in as 'eco-tourists' hiking remote parts of China, which also meant we couldn't get any equipment in with us. Thankfully the black and gray market in China was as busy as ever.

"Not going to mention the official we had to bribe to get into the country?" Wolf asked Red curiously, still reading along.

"If they didn't know we had to bribe someone, their total armatures," Red answered briskly, "besides, we might need to bribe him again, someday."

"True," Wolf agreed.

Sadly we were only able to obtain light arms, pistols and knock off rifles, along with some grenades and incendiaries.

Side note: In fighting monsters, fire is almost always your friend. Almost all supernatural creatures are vulnerable to fire to one extent or another. In many cases, fire can be the only way to reliably destroy a creature and prevent it from being revived.

"Don't remind me," Wolf shuddered slightly. She could regenerate from burns but they slowed her down more than any other injury. And enough fire, hot enough, could kill her.

"Sorry, love," Red patted her arm.

We didn't abandon our cover story as we went through China to the incident point, but we stretched it pretty bad. To keep off the government radar we stuck with ground transport like rail and car, planes usually requiring you to leave a name somewhere official, but we made good time to the attacked region.

For some reason incidents like this happen in remote areas, and in this case we were pretty lucky. The village was several days walk from another town, though there were shacks dotted around the country side, and none of the zombies reached civilization.

And yes, the WHO had indeed run into a undead infestation. The first zombie attacked us before we hit the edge of the village, lumbering up the road at a fair clip of speed. Wolf shot the legs away with her rifle then we head shot it, before dousing it in gas and setting it aflame.

"You head shot it, not we," Wolf noted mildly.

"Artistic license," Red shrugged casually as she said, "besides, it sounds kinda boastful if I say I did everything."

One of the odder traits of zombies is their tendency to mob together. Even when it would be wiser to spread out and try to cover an entire area, they tend to clump together into groups. That's useful and dangerous to monster hunters, in about equal amounts. On one hand they're all together to deal with, but they can also overwhelm you in numbers.

We advanced through the huts and small buildings, sweeping the area with our guns. There were no people visible, and no small animals around either. (Always remember that animals are often smarter than humans, and they will split if something nasty is around.) As we neared the center of town we heard the low moan most zombies seem to make, instead of talking.

It's hard to describe zombies, to people who haven't seen them. Their not exactly dead, despite looking like it, but their biology isn't human any more. The skin is pulled tight to the flesh, with no fat remaining at all. They look decayed because of the gray skin tone, and some rotting caused by bites and other wounds. And don't be tricked by the lurching! They just LOOK slow, in fact they can cover ground dangerously fast.

It was the combination of their speed and resilience that determined out plan of attack. Picking a defensive position we prepared a rudimentary gun emplacement, then lobbed grenades into the mass of zombies. While the explosives didn't kill too many they did both direct damage and spread shrapnel, wounding still more. After searching rather raggedly for who hurt them the zombies stumbled upon our position and charged.

If you've never seen a zombie charge, it's hard to convey what it's like. First the smell of rotting meat and decay hits you, then you see them coming at you. Your brain KNOWS there's no way something that broken down could be going that fast, so you literally disbelieve your eyes. And finally the moaning cry washes over you, full of nothing but hunger. And bad breath, assuming you're let them get too close.

"With my nose I don't have to get too close," Wolf remembered, grimacing. "I think my eyes were watering for days."

"Poor thing," Red twisted around a bit to kiss her gently. "I'm gonna have to skip over when you heroically ripped the heads off a few of them."

"I let them get too damn near anyway," Wolf shrugged philosophically.

The rifles we had acquired weren't full auto, which put us at something of a disadvantage. Still, using short bursts we went for destroying the zombies' lower limbs, slowing them down. The zombies kept coming no matter how many we crippled, entirely uncaring that their mob was being scythed down b y our firepower.

"I like 'scythed down,' that's a nice turn of phrase," Wolf noted, making Red blush.

Our rifles ran dry on bullets as the last few staggered forward, but Wolf was ready with our backup pistols. Firing one in each hand she blinded the zombies with head shots, then crippled them like their fellows. We circled the still moving mass with gasoline then used the incendiary grenades to set them afire, burning the zombies to ashes.

"There is no way that someone is going to take out zombies with just pistols," Wolf shook her head wryly. "But thanks."

Red reached over and tickled Wolf, making her giggle. "Well, it's not like I can say you went wolf and ripped their heads off," she pointed out reasonably.

Sweeping the town afterward in a larger hut we found a improvised 'larder' where the zombies were storing a few survivors for later consumption. One of the World Health Organization people was there, thankfully unharmed. Sadly the others had already been eaten, or were presumably in the mass of attacking zombies.

The WHO paid a reward for the recovery of their man, as well as our fee and costs. The government of China eventually found out what happened and, officially, denied anything had happened. Privately we were both rewarded by a member of the committee, for 'unnamed services to the state' or some such.

"Are you going to mention that China told us not to come back, or else?" Wolf asked curiously, wrapping her arms around Red.

"Hmm,." Red snuggled back into the taller woman's embrace. "No, I don't think so," she said after thinking about it a moment, "the Chinese aren't stupid, after all. If something nasty enough hits they WILL call someone like us in, and it could be us if I don't burn any bridges behind us."

"Assuming we take the job," Wolf grumbled, "I hate working for assholes like them."

"Maybe so, but they're well paying assholes,' Red laughed.

In conclusion, there are several main points to be remembered in dealing with zombies. Respond quickly, bring sufficient high powered weaponry, do not underestimate either their speed or resistance to damage and finish them with fire. Follow these general guidelines and you will not go very wrong.

About a week later Red got confirmation that the article had been accepted, and two more weeks before they got a complimentary copy of the magazine along with a paltry check. Still, it was easy money and hadn't taken TOO much work.

"Argh!" Red yelped, making Wolf look up from where she was working underneath their old kitchen sink.

Wolf slid out gracefully, a bit of grease smudging her nose. "What is it?" she asked calmly, her sense of smell telling her that Red was more annoyed than alarmed.

"They liked the first two so much they want a regular feature," Red growled.

"Isn't that good news?" Wolf asked reasonably.

"But I don't know what to write!" Red wailed.

"Oy," Wolf shook her head, sighing.

To be continued...