Ho-Ho-Homicide (Bubba the Monster Hunter) Page 2

  “A pony?” I was really running out of ideas now. All the girls I associated with were a lot older, and most of them were more interested in gold and platinum, preferably in the shape of credit cards. She just shook her head.

  “Then what can Santa bring you for Christmas this year?” I gently pried the little girl off my chest and looked her in the eye.

  She stared at me for a long time, then said “Are you really Santa?”

  “Well, of course I’m really Santa Claus! Don’t I have a red coat?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t I have a white beard?”

  Another nod.

  “Doesn’t he have a big belly?” Collette chimed in.

  Another nod.

  “Don’t help, elf Collette.” I grumbled. “But since I’m obviously Santa Claus, what do you want for Christmas?” I was really needing to take a leak myself by this point, and I wanted nothing more than to get this kid off my lap, disinfect the pants, and stand up for about five minutes.

  She stared at me for a long time, then I saw her lips move. I couldn’t hear her, so I leaned forward, waving for her to repeat herself.

  “I want a place to live, Santa.”

  I sat back in my chair, staring at the little girl on my lap. I looked at her mismatched clothes, threadbare coat and gloves, and then looked closer at her mother. She was wearing the kind of stuff the thrift store throws away, and she had the drawn look about her face that said she was used to missing a few meals here and there.

  “Where do you live now, sweetheart?” I asked as gently as I could, leaning back down to the girl so no one, not even Collette, could hear her response.

  “In my mommy’s car. But for Christmas I want a house. With a bed. That’s all, Santa. Maybe some toys for my little brother. But nothing for me. A house will be plenty.” I looked at her mother and saw two tears rolling down the woman’s face.

  “And what’s your name, Mommy?” I asked the woman.

  “Sarah. Sarah Jacobs.” She held out her arms and Amanda ran into them. Collette held out a pair of candy canes to them, and I saw tears in her eyes too. The woman started to make her way out of the faux winter wonderland, and I stood.

  “Sarah Jacobs, do you believe in Santa Claus?” She turned and looked at me, and in her eyes I could read the whole story. Husband out of work, too much mortgage for not enough jobs. Husband and little brother were probably somewhere else in the mall trying to stay warm until it closed and they had to go back and cram four people into a car that would keep them out of the elements, if barely.

  She shook her head sadly and smiled at me. “It’s been two years of this, Santa. I don’t believe in much of nothing anymore.”

  “What’s your husband’s name, Sarah?”

  “Mark.”

  “Mark and Sarah Jacobs, of Charleston, West Virginia. Tonight you sleep indoors.” I reached in my pocket, having an uncomfortable moment where I had to go inside my Santa suit to get to my jeans, and handed the woman a hotel room key. “This goes to room 342 in the Fairfield Inn downtown. You know where it is?”

  “Yeah, I know it.” She looked at the key, then back at me. “Where you gonna sleep?”

  “Well, if the Fairfield ain’t sold out, I’ll be sleeping somewhere there. If it is, I’ll be sleeping in a different hotel. But that ain’t all. Tomorrow morning, there’ll be a package waiting for you at the front desk. Take it, and Merry Christmas.”

  “What’s the package? I ain’t doing nothing illegal, mind you.”

  “I work for a church. They own a little property here. They could probably use a caretaker. Everything will be in the package. Now get outta here, lady. I gotta pee.” She stood there for a second, not really believing what was happening, then she started to cry and snatched up her little girl to go find her husband.

  “Skeeter, make it happen.” I whispered into the air.

  “Way ahead of you. I done talked to Uncle Father Joe and he’s got it covered.”

  “Good. And I’m gonna need another hotel reservation. I just gave away my room.”

  “Done and done, Bubba.” I turned back to Collette and saw her standing there, tears brimming in her eyes. She jumped at me, throwing her arms around my neck and raining kisses down on my cheeks like I was the last soldier coming home from the war. I enjoyed it for a few seconds before I pried her off my neck.

  “Collette, you better slow down there sweetie or I’m liable to make you forget a vow or two. Now show me where the pisser is in this joint.”

  ***

  I went ahead and took my pee break, then got back to granting wishes, wiping snotty noses and generally trying to avoid any contact with juvenile bodily fluids for another couple hours until finally Collette handed out her last candy cane and sent the last little ankle-biter on his way.

  I looked at my ridiculously hot but very tired-looking elf and said “You want to sit on Santa’s lap for a little while? I’ll make all your Christmas wishes come true.” I gave her a wink to make her think I was less serious and dirty-minded than I really was, and she laughed.

  Collette sat on the steps at the front of my throne and leaned back on my legs, resting her head on my knees. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea, Santa.” She smiled up at me as she rejected me. Story of my life.

  “So many of the fun things I’ve done were very bad ideas, Elf.” I grinned back at her, and she reached over her head to smack me on the leg. Security had made their rounds a few minutes before, so I figured it was getting close to time to go pixie-hunting. I patted Collette on the head to get her to move and ducked back into the hut to strip off the Santa costume. I reached into my “toy sack” and pulled out a pair of Glock 17 pistols with belt holsters. I strapped those and pulled out a little ATI 522, an MP5-styled semi-auto with an extended magazine in .22 long rifle ammo. I wrapped the strap around my elbow and checked the laser sight, making sure the safety was on before I stepped back out into the mall. Collette looked up at me, started a bit at the sight of me loaded for bear, but nodded and grabbed a pack of her own from behind the throne and ducked into the hut.

  She stepped out a couple of minutes later looking a lot more like a porn vision of a ninja than an innocent little elf-nun. She was dressed all in black, from her soft-soled shoes to her tights and all the way up to her tight-fitting hoodie. She had a pair of ling knives strapped to her belt and a friggin’ sword slung across her back, of all things.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “Skeeter, what the hell is she doing?” I hate repeating myself, but I couldn’t help it.

  “I’m here to help. You didn’t think I was just eye candy, did you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind. And it was a pretty pleasant thought, to be honest with you.”

  “You’re a chauvinist, Bubba.”

  “What gave it away, the name ‘Bubba,’ or was it something else? Of course I’m a chauvinist. That’s half my charm.”

  “You don’t have any charm.” Came the voice in my ear.

  “You stay out of this, Skeeter. You really think you’re gonna help me?”

  “I’m fifth dan in kendo and have black belts in tae kwon do and jujitsu. I’m pretty good with this thing. I can help.” She patted the hilt of her sword and just stared at me.

  “Well all right, if you think you can keep from getting dead, let’s go.”

  “Where do we start?”

  “Skeeter?”

  “My research shows that pixies love two things, shiny jewelry and sweets. So the mall food court would be where I’d start. There’s probably plenty of sugar scattered around there.” I hate it when Skeeter’s right, so I didn’t bother to tell him that I could see a flicker of wings the second Cinnabon came into view around a corner. Unfortunately that wasn’t all that came into view.

  “Stop right there!” A fat mall cop with pit stains and a taser in his hand was yelling at the flittering wings.

  “Ah, crap.” I muttered, and broke into a run. The c
op turned in my direction as he heard my footsteps, and he panicked a little at the sight of my hugeness headed his way at a dead run. I didn’t blame him, just wished he hadn’t spazzed out and tased me. Those little pointy bits sting.

  I stopped running, knocked the wires out of my leather vest, and glared at the rent-a-cop. “Don’t do that again. It didn’t feel good.”

  “You’re supposed to be out cold.”

  “You might have noticed that I’m a little bigger than the average snotnose shoplifting from GameStop. And the vest caught most of the juice. But don’t do that again. I’m trying to save your life.”

  He turned back to the Cinnabon stand and said “What the hell are those? Bugs?”

  “I hope they didn’t hear that.” Collette said as she came to a stop right behind me. I did too, but I couldn’t blame the cop for his mistake. The little two-inch flying humanoids looked a lot like giant wasps from any distance of more than a few feet, and we were still a good ten yards away. But as soon as the cop spoke, the whole horde of them flew up in a glittery cloud and shot across the thirty feet to the cop in just a couple of seconds. He drew his taser again, but there was nothing to hit. With a buzz and a lightning-fast cloud of red, his hand disappeared. I heard a noise like a supercharged food processor, and then his hand just wasn’t there anymore. The bones were still there, and the tendons, but the muscle was all gone. Collette drew in a sharp breath, and the guard started to shriek like a little girl who just heard they weren’t going to finish making the last Twilight movie.

  “Shit, Skeeter. How’d they do that?” I whispered.

  “I told you they were fast. And mean.” Was the reply in my ear. I looked around, but the glittery cloud was gone.

  “Take care of him.” I said to Collette. I reached down to where the guard was writhing around on the filthy floor, snatched off his utility belt, and punched him in the jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.

  “What the hell did you do that for? That man needs immediate medical attention, not more abuse!” Collette turned on me with blazing eyes, but I just stared her down. It’s easy to stare people down when you’re bigger than almost everybody. The people I’ve always been impressed with are the ones who can do it without being the size of pro wrestlers or offensive linemen.

  “And now you can give him that attention. And he won’t fight you. Or go into shock. Or remember that we were here. Or that he was attacked by fairies. Now I gotta go kill a bunch of nasty-ass Tinkerbelle knockoffs.” I turned my back on her and headed towards the nearest jewelry store. Lucky for me the pixies had left a nice fat blood trail for me to follow.

  “You got a plan?” Skeeter asked in my ear.

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  “You want to share it with me?”

  “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

  “I think all your plans are stupid. But somehow you’ve lived all these years. Spill.”

  “I’m gonna try to make a deal with them. They stop killing people and they can steal all the leftovers they want.”

  “And if they don’t take the deal?”

  “I’ve shot the wings off a hummingbird with a twenty-two before, this shouldn’t be too different.”

  “Except these hummingbirds are armed, sentient and mean as hell.”

  “Good point. I’ve got a backup plan if that don’t work.”

  “Care to share that one?”

  “Not really.”

  “Did you really shoot the wings off a hummingbird?”

  “Not really. I’m good, but I ain’t that good.”

  I saw them as I got to the jewelry store. They were flitting in and around the cases, trying to pick the locks with their swords and having no luck. As soon as I got a good look at them I knew the 9mm pistols I was carrying would be useless. That would be like trying to shoot a bluejay with an RPG, frustrating and difficult. It was gonna be all I could do to hit a couple of them with the 522, but I figured I’d better shoot first while surprise was on my side.

  I lit up one of the biggest pixies with the laser and squeezed off a round. It was a little gross when it struck, because the little dude just exploded, spraying glittery fairy guts all over the jewelry counter. The bullet went on like there was nothing there and buried itself in the wall of the store, but the pixie was gone. I chalked it up to fair trade for the guard’s hand, and switched targets. I managed to disintegrate two more before the cloud was headed my way.

  They got to within a foot of me when I bellowed “HALT!” in my best high school football coach voice. I’ve mentioned that I’m a big dude, and I move a lot of air when I yell, so the wind I generated alone was enough to stop them in their tracks.

  “You come one inch closer and I’ll kill the whole lot of you. Now who’s your leader?”

  “King.” Corrected Skeeter.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass if they have a king, queen or a pope. I wanna talk to the boss pixie. NOW!”

  A slightly larger form separated from the cloud of pixies and flew to within a few inches of my nose. At that distance I could see that he looked like a normal human, only two inches tall with wings, a sword and a lot of glitter. I guessed that was pixie dust, and probably magical, but that wasn’t what kept my attention. I kept my eyes on the sword, with was only about an inch long but looked to be razor-sharp.

  “What do you want with us, mortal?” He squeaked imperiously. Or at least I guess he would have sounded imperious if his voice hadn’t been verging on those frequencies that only dogs can hear. But I cut him some slack, since he was only the height of my thumb.

  “I want y’all to leave this place and quit killing innocent people.” Might as well lay it all out there.

  “We have slain no innocents. We have killed only those who trespassed on our territory. That is well within our rights.”

  “I might usually agree with you, but you see, this is a public mall, and it’s all human territory. There’s no ‘pixies only’ zone in here. So you don’t get to kill anybody. Now you gotta leave before I get irritated.”

  “Irritated? Irritated! You presume to tell me about irritation? Stupid mortal, who do you think this land belonged to for countless centuries before you useless giant meatsacks built this shrine to plastic and glass? These lands are of the Fae, and we intend to reclaim them.”

  “That’s all I need, another friggin’ territory dispute. You guys can take it up with the Native Americans, who might have a thing or two to say about prior claim. But the fact is, this mall is human territory now, and y’all gotta go. Now I’ve been about as nice as I know how to be, but I’m about to get grumpy. So why don’t you round up your bunch of overgrown mosquitoes and get out of here before I have to break out my flyswatter?” I’ll admit that last bit might have been a little insulting, but I have issues with authority. And with short people. Clowns, too, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing.

  Obviously the Pixie King didn’t care for my tone, because he drew his sword and opened his mouth to yell something I’m sure was both inspiring to his people and insulting about my heritage or my hairstyle. I didn’t give him chance to so much as take a breath before I put the laser sight on his tiny little forehead and squeezed the trigger on my 522. King Fancypants disappeared in a cloud of glitter and pixie guts, and the rest of his cloud froze in mid-air. For all I know the glitter might have been pixie guts, but this was not the time to be worry about such things.

  I heard a high-pitched voice shriek “Kill them both!” and turned to see Collette standing a few feet behind me, sword drawn.

  “When did you get here?” I yelled.

  “Along about the time you blew their king to bits. How many of them do you think you can shoot?”

  “Not near enough.” I said, backing up to stand next to her. “But I’ve got a plan.”

  “Why am I worried?” She relied.

  “Because she’s not a moron.” Skeeter answered in my ear. “What’s your plan?”

  “Shut up, Skeeter. Colle
tte, if any of them get past me, slice ‘em like zucchini.” I slung the 522 around behind me and pulled the pepper spray from the guard’s utility belt, dropping the belt to the floor. With the pepper spray held out in front of me I started walking towards the angry cloud of pixies.

  “Come on, you Tinkerbelle rejects!” I shouted, hoping that was an insult to real pixies. “Come get some!” It worked, because the whole cloud of glittery little bastards headed for me like one of those cartoon bee swarms. I stuck the pepper spray straight out in front of me, squeezed the nozzle, and flicked my Zippo lighter underneath the stream.

  The old-school pepper spray lit up just like gasoline, and suddenly I was walking into a cloud of pissed-off pixies holding a flamethrower. Pixies sound a lot like fingernails on a chalkboard when they’re screaming their last painful breath, and a whole tribe of them sounds like a whole lot of fingernails on a chalkboard. The pepper spray sputtered out after about twenty seconds, but by then the most dangerous thing in the air around that jewelry store was a whole lot of capsaicin and the faint odor of my Mexican dinner. Yeah, I’m not ashamed to use the death of a hundred pixies to cover up the sound of a good long fart. Sue me.

  I turned around, and Collette was just standing there, sword down by her side, mouth open, eyes wide. I’d seen that look before, it’s the look civilians and other generally nice people get when they see what I really do for a living. I watched any chance of me getting a little nun-nookie evaporate before my eyes. Oh well, I was pretty sure I saw a strip club by the interstate.

  “You killed them.” She said flatly, a tear welling up in the corner of one eye. “But they were so cute.”

  “They were cute enough to turn that guard’s hand into hamburger and strip three people of all their flesh, muscle and internal organs. Yeah, I killed them. They don’t call me Bubba the Monster Capturer, or Bubba the Monster Befriender. I’m a monster hunter. And I kill what I hunt. That’s why they keep me around.” I whipped my 522 around and squeezed off a round that buzzed right past her left ear. The pixie that had just drawn his sword beside her carotid artery exploded, and the bullet whizzed off into a chunk of drywall somewhere. Collete dove for the floor, and I turned to the door.