Night at the Museum - A Bubba the Monster Hunter Novella by John G. Hartness & Jay Requard

Author:John G. Hartness & Jay Requard [Hartness, John G.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2016-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The rakshasa room was clear, and I wasn’t stupid enough to even brush a sleeve against any of the jars, bottles, or flasks in the djinn display. Djinn are powerful, old, smart, devious, conniving, and any other unpleasant adjective you could think of. I didn’t want to fight one on my best day, with Amy right beside me, and every weapon I could think of in arms’ reach. I sure as hell didn’t want to fight one in the half-dark of the museum while I still needed to find Becca and keep Joe safe.

We came to the door that led into the Black Forest exhibit, but it looked different somehow. There were odd symbols drawn into the frame, but I didn’t recognize any of them. I put my hand on the knob, and something felt off, like there was something on the other side of the door, and it didn’t like me very much.

“I think you oughta hang back a little, Padre,” I said to Joe, my voice pitched low so as maybe not to piss off whatever was on the other side any more than it already was. I turned the knob and slipped through the smallest opening I could manage. I left the door open behind me for Joe to follow but felt something pull the door out of my hand and slam it shut the second I was completely through it. I heard pounding on the door for a second or two, but then nothing. I turned around, shining my light at the door, but it was gone. The only thing behind me was a brick wall, weeping moisture and covered in thick green moss.

“I reckon I ain’t in Kansas no more, huh, Toto?” I said to the air as I looked around. I was in what looked to be a sewer, at least judging from the smell and the water around my boots. It was mostly dry, at least, with water not even cresting my ankles. The walls were old brick, with decades of moss and fungus and other shit growing on them. There was a dim light coming from the tunnel in front of me, and my flashlight seemed to do better against the darkness down here, for some reason.

I pressed the comm button in my ear. “Hey, Skeeter?” I said. No response. I pushed the button again. Still nothing. So wherever I was, I wasn’t anywhere that Skeeter could find me, and I couldn’t see a way to get back to Joe. I reckoned I was really flying solo on this one. I thought about it for a few seconds, then slipped on my other ceastus, carefully drew Bertha, used both hands to get her situated in my now-gloved hand, and started down the tunnel toward the light.

I’ve never been what anyone would consider stealthy, but I managed to turn the corner and find myself staring at the back of one of the biggest damn werewolves I’d ever seen. He had to be seven and a half feet tall, and easily four hundred pounds.

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