Free Creatures: Thirty Years of Monsters by Clive Barker, Robert McCammon, China Miéville, Joe R. Lansdale, Cherie Priest, Christopher Golden, Al Sarrantonio, David Schow, John Langan, Paul Tremblay Page A

yellow light. It bolted instantly, heading for that gap in the border fence.
    “Oh no you don’t,” Weston whispered.
    Fast as it was, the thing was making a run for the fence in a straight line. He sighted on its back as Humvee doors popped open and DEA agents jumped out. Ortiz’s voice called out, so Weston knew his squad leader was with them.
    Once again the creature paused, framed in that opening in the fence.
    Weston squeezed the trigger.
    An arm came up under the barrel, knocking the gun’s nose up, and the bullets fired into the desert sky.
    Enraged, Weston spun on a man wearing a DEA jacket.
    “Back off!” he snapped, shoving the man away. When he glanced back toward the fence, the creature had vanished once more, and he knew that the opportunity had passed. “What’s wrong with you? Did you see that thing? Do you have any idea what it just did? What you let get away?”
    Ortiz had come up by then. The DEA agent grinned and Weston wanted to break his face with the butt of his M-16. But the Squad Leader glared at him.
    “Stand down, Weston.”
    Weston glared at the DEA prick. “Tell me you saw that thing.”
    “I didn’t see anything.” The grin remained. “And neither did you. We’ve got thousands of miles of border to worry about. If there’s something else that keeps them from trying to get across, then it’s doing us a favor.”
    Behind Weston, the teenaged girl still sobbed over the corpse of her dead aunt. She’d wanted a new beginning, but instead she’d found an ending to so much of her life. All he could think about was that if the girl had been torn open by that thing out in the desert, this son of a bitch would have kept grinning.
    Doing us a favor.
    Weston looked at the grim, cautious expression on Ortiz’s face. The staff sergeant was silently warning him to keep his mouth shut. More than anything, that made him wonder. Was the grinning DEA man just happy the scavenger was out there in the desert, helping him do his job, or had he and his people put the thing there in the first place? And if they had, were there others?
    But he did not ask those questions.
    “A Border Patrol officer—Austin—one of the coyotes shot him. He’s down by the fence, DOA,” he said.
    “A tragedy,” said the grinning man. “Died in the firefight that cost the lives of a number of illegals as they attempted to enter the country carrying cartel cocaine. A hero of the border wars, this Austin. You were lucky to survive yourself.”
    Weston slung his M-16 across his back. One last time he glanced at Ortiz.They already had their version of tonight’s op ready to go. If he tried telling it differently, who would listen?
    Slowly, Weston nodded.
    “Sir, yes sir.”

The Kraken
Michael Kelly
    The Kraken, scaly and oozing slime, was on the kitchen counter. It pulsed and moved across the Formica and eased itself onto the bottom of the food-encrusted stainless steel sink.
    I stood on wobbly knees, staring down at the bulbous creature. Two round eyes swung up, stared at me with a keen alien intelligence, unblinking, waiting. I thought I recognized those sad eyes. Tentacles reached, feeling along the bottom of the sink. One slimy appendage found a bit of lasagna stuck to the wall of the sink, tugged it off and shoved it into its dark wet mouth.
    My stomach roiled. My head spun. My legs buckled. I grabbed the end of the counter and held fast. I felt like a small ship tossed around in a violent sea.
    My own fault, really. Can’t handle the booze like I once could. Christ, what a mistake. Kenny’s fault, too, I guess. Hadn’t seen the bastard in years and he calls me up, out of the blue, says he wants to get together, like old time’s sake. The two of us, tearing up the town. Like back in college.
    Except we are not in college anymore and I’m not a kid anymore. And holy mother of fuck, I can’t remember the last time I drank that much beer.
    But, yeah, Kenny was always able to talk me into almost anything.