Free Monster Gauntlet by Paul Emil

my brothers). Then mugger repeated punched Marine in the face.
    I turned away to look for my knife. I found it. When I turned back, the positions had totally changed. Marine was on his feet. The mugger was coming at him in a crouch. Marine kicked him in the face. The man moaned. I rejoiced. But the tackle still worked, and both men went to the ground.
    A scramble ensued. At some point, Marine cried out. Both men separated and staggered to their feet. Marine looked down at his hip and then held up his hand, gazing at the slick red blood glistening on his skin.
    The faceless thug waved a bloody switchblade.
    Marine winced. Then he growled and whipped out his own knife.
    The thug switched the knife to his other hand and reached behind this back.
    “Marine, he has a ...”
    “BLAM! BLAM!”
    The brute’s body staggered backwards.
    “FTTT”
    An arrow appeared in the middle of his right arm.
    The pistol dangled from his fingers and fell to the ground. The man was still on his feet and even took a step forward. He raised the blade.
    “BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!”
    The man’s head exploded. The body crumpled and slumped on the ground.
    Marine and I both stared in shock at the body, then at each other.
    Bear and Trish stepped out from the trees. I exhaled in relief. I was unspeakably happy to see them. The feeling was not mutual.
    “Next time you look for me to save your ass, don’t,” Bear said.
    He moved towards the body, keeping his gun pointed at it. I saw the mugger’s pistol lying near his hand, and that snapped me out of my state of shock. I moved so quickly I practically ran. I had to beat Bear. I kicked the gun away from the dead man’s hand like you see cops do in the movies. When it was safely out of the reach the fallen foe, I scooped it up. I wrapped my fingers around the cold handle. The weapon was heavier than I expected. It felt good.
    Bear looked at me as if he smelled something bad. He obviously wanted the gun for himself. He held my gaze as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He returned his attention to the body.
    The gun was mine now. I pointed at the body, half expecting the headless horror to sit up and wave its outstretched arms, searching and reaching specifically for me. Even though the intruder was missing half of his head, I still found it hard to believe he was really dead. I cringed at the thought of what would have happened if my “friends” hadn’t helped. I wanted to squeeze the trigger and unload the gun into the body just to make sure it was dead and wouldn’t get up. I was about to when Bear said, “Put that thing down before you hurt somebody. I mean it.”
    I looked at him, but the darkness in his stare told me he was not joking. I slowly lowered my weapon. Bear descended on the corpse like a vulture and started going through the clothing. He pulled the man’s jacket apart like a jackal spreading a victim’s rib cage open.
    “Hah!” shouted Bear. “He’s wearing a vest! I knew it! It’s mine now!”
    I turned to Marine while Bear’s hands scoured the man’s remains.
    “You OK?” he asked me.
    I nodded. I look at him holding his arm across his stomach. His hand was glistening red.
    “You’re bleeding,” I gasped.
    He laughed.
    “What’s so funny?” I said. “You’re hurt.”
    “No, nothing’s funny,” he said, smiling. “It’s not bad, really. I mean, to a civilian, it looks bad, but I was a medic in the gulf, remember? This isn’t bad.”
    “It looks bad,” I said.
    “Nah,” he said. “Jacket took most of the force. Still, I want to dress it and get moving. Mason, hand me your med kit.”
    Mason, who had conveniently appeared from the darkness after the action was over, shifted uneasily. His eyes darted about like rodent’s, constantly scanning the surrounding for danger. He looked like a small animal in a world of predators, which, in fact, we were.
    “Mason? The med kit.”
    “Um, that’s mine.”
    “What?” Marine uttered, voicing what I was