Half-Breed Hunter: Arrival

  Half-Breed Hunter

  Arrival

  David Aries

  Copyright © 2018 by David Aries

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains graphic sex, plenty of violence, fantasy harems, and even some obscenities. You've been warned.

  Cover art by Lim Chuan Shin

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  I didn’t have lofty goals in life. Being a celebrity didn’t appeal to me. Nor did I dream about having big sacks of cash at my disposal. Sure, if somebody offered me a mansion, a sports car, and a hot Swedish wife, with a killer rack, I would have snapped their hand off. But, those weren’t my ambitions. My dreams could be called modest. All I craved was a steady job, a home to call my own, and the ability to stay out of trouble.

  Funny how I struggled to fulfill even those ‘modest’ aims.

  The days were getting shorter. It was only mid-afternoon and the sun was already heading for the exit. Once again, my hometown was being coated in an orange glow. Not a bad sight for somebody cycling to work. It was the best polish I could expect from this urban turd.

  A brisk breeze slapped my chops as I whizzed down the road, fluttering my appropriately windswept hazelnut hair. I glided off the asphalt road and into the public park, making good time. At the rate I was moving, I’d be at my job with time to spare. For once, it looked like I was going to do things the easy way.

  Then life stepped up to the pitcher’s plate.

  The path ahead was busy. A cluster had formed, driving the other pedestrians to a detour.

  If I’d done the same, I could have kept to my schedule without issue. I’d have lost a minute, tops. Hell, that probably would have been the smart thing to do. But, it wasn’t the way I rolled. This wasn’t something I could ignore.

  Six masked men surrounded one girl. Seeing as tonight was Halloween, that wasn’t quite as intimidating as it could have been. But, it wasn’t far removed. The largest, some human mountain, had a hold of her wrist and wasn’t letting go.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” he laughed. “Don’t be so frigid.”

  “Please, let me go,” she squealed, trying to drag her arm free.

  She was on the small side. Compared to him, tiny. No way her slender arms could overpower those huge bear claws.

  “Halloween’s only once a year,” the big guy said. “You should party with us.”

  “We’ll treat you right, all night long,” another snickered, thrusting his hips.

  I sighed. I’d already slowed to a stop. My mind was made up. It was scumbags like these which kept me from my dreams. If I didn’t live in such a rough area, maybe this sorta stuff wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t have to step in and make things right.

  “Hey!” I yelled, hopping off my bike.

  The seven of them turned their attention to me, the only person not avoiding their routine like the plague.

  “You got a problem, punk?” one of them asked, shuffling over with his hands in his pockets and a plastic wolf mask hiding what I presumed was boyish good looks.

  “Who, me?” I gasped. “No, of course not. I just stopped to compliment the costumes. Children’s masks, wife-beaters, and boxers on show. You’re nailing the whole asshole thing.”

  “What did you say, you little shit?” Had to give it to him for his character work. He was huffing and puffing as he squared up to me. “I dare you to say that again.”

  I leaned in nice and close, so nothing got lost in translation. “I said… I see six cowards who need teaching a lesson.”

  He snapped. “You fucker!” And threw a punch.

  Catching his telegraphed move was so easy it was insulting. I gave him a withering look and shook my head. “I guess this is why you target girls.” I pivoted my hips and threw him over my shoulder, into the paved ground. It was a simple judo move and it did the trick.

  The rest of the merry men took their sweet time to react. Their pea brains probably struggled to process anything unexpected. Bless.

  “Bastard!” one of them finally cried, setting off toward me with a ballsy frontal charge.

  In this case, ballsy can be substituted for stupid.

  I stepped forward and nailed my oncoming target right in the gut. He stooped over, wincing in pain, so I put him out of his misery with a chop to the back of his neck.

  Two down.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be tough guys?” I asked, looking at the thugs sprawled across the park. “I know I called you cowards, but I didn’t think you’d be this weak.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Jake,” the man mountain barked.

  It’d taken a little longer than I would have cared to admit, but the voice finally clicked with the body. It made too much sense. “Hey, is that you Roddy? I didn’t recognize you. That mask suits you.”

  He ripped his devil mask off and revealed the handsome chap underneath. Well, if you consider orcs attractive. Some would call his style the kind of face that only a mother could love. I wouldn’t say that. There was no proof she was keen. And for good reason when your son’s a near seven foot, hulking, beast harassing a schoolgirl.

  “This is none of your business, pizza boy,” Roddy said, pulling the girl towards him.

  “It’s actually burger boy,” I said, tapping the logo on my uniform. Not that I could guarantee Roddy understood shapes. He seemed to be a square block, round hole kinda guy. “And until you let her go, it is.”

  Onlookers gathered, but only to stoop. Nobody was stepping in to help. The angry giant was probably a part of the reason. I didn’t know anybody else who looked so physically intimidating.

  Roddy snorted and gave me his best death state, but I held my ground and refused to falter. I hadn’t stopped to inconvenience him. I was there to end it.

  “Take him out,” he ordered.

  “No way,” Halloween-Masked Thug #2 said, holding up his hands. “He’ll kick my ass.”

  The big man grabbed the coward’s white vest and picked him off his feet. He clashed their heads toward and damn near split that skull mask in two. “I’ll kick your ass if you don’t get him! And that goes for the rest of you too!”

  “Can we please hurry this up?” I asked, tapping my invisible watch. “Some of us have places to be.”

  Roddy dropped his minion and pointed at me. “Go. End that cocky piece of shit.”

  The morons exchanged concerned looks and made their decision. It was to try their luck against me, rather than their oversized leader. And it didn’t involve all running in, like headless chickens. They moved as a unit and tried to surround me.

  Like I was going to let that happen.

  I took the initiative and burst. They didn’t expect it and I managed to land a clean strike on the guy advancing to my right.

  The others abandoned their cautious approach and used this chance to strike my seemingly vulnerable form.

  Sadly, for them, this wasn’t an opening.

  I dodged to the side, avoiding their incoming strikes. The overenthusiastic thugs crashed into each other and presented me with a golden opportunity. I grabbed their heads and cracked them together, sending them both staggering around.

  That had to hurt.

  A gleam of reflected light flashed in the corner of my eye and I threw myself backward as a knife slashed toward me.

  Roddy had released his prey and stepped up, with a pocketknife in hand.

  “What the hell, Roddy? You trying to kill me?” I complained.

  “Not so cocky anymore, punk,” he said, flashing his misshapen teeth. “This is what you get for messing with me.”

  He came out swinging and I got to dodging. In a straight up fight, I knew I could beat Roddy. We’d scrapped a lot, throughout school and after, and I was always the winner. He had size and strength, but he was a lumbering clown with no technique. Such a handicap didn’t apply when he was armed.

  I kept skipping back, avoiding the slices. “Come on, Roddy. This is stupid. Even for you.”

  “She’s legal,” he assured me.

  “What?! That’s not what I mean.” His raw stupidity made my head hurt. “That’s a damn knife. This is serious.”

  “Shut your trap! This is your fault. If you didn’t keep acting like a tough guy, I wouldn’t need to do this.”

  I’d never suspected all my intervention would have driven him to this. He’d always been a moron, but this was ridiculous. “Roddy, chill. If you don’t stop, you’re gonna get hurt.”

  “Only one of us is getting hurt,” he chuckled, getting closer to landing some conta
ct.

  “Yep. You,” I informed him. I swung a kick and smacked the underside of his hand, popping the blade from his sweaty grip.

  His stunned expression followed the flying knife. It should have been watching me. I dropped my foot back and centered before drilling a left jab right to his nose.

  Something crunched and it wasn’t my knuckles.

  He howled and went stumbling back, eventually toppling over when he clattered into a metal, waist-high, obstacle.

  I yelped and held my head. “My bike!” That stupid lug had smashed right into it.

  Roddy sat up, clutching his face. Blood trickled around his fingers. “You fucking bastard! You broke my fucking nose!”

  “You just broke my bike!” I countered, shooing him away. “Get off before you wreck the frame.”

  It was too late. Roddy moved, but the damage was done. The mid-section was crushed and the wheels faced different directions.

  “Fuck, I just finished paying for this,” I mourned. My salary was tight enough as was.

  “I’m gonna get you for this,” Roddy threatened, staggering a few paces away.

  “Do I look like I give a shit?” I was a grieving man. My mangled bike was in my arms and I wasn’t sure if it would ever whizz through the park again. “Take your jackass friends and get outta here.”

  He growled. Guess playing second fiddle to a bike isn’t much fun for a wannabe gangsta.

  “You’re gonna pay, Roddy. You’re gonna pay,” he mouthed as he beat a hasty retreat, followed by his underlings who weren’t seeing stars.

  I sighed. This is what I got for stopping and sorting that idiot out. My bike was totaled and my knuckles were throbbing. I’d won the fight, comfortably, but still ended up suffering in the process.

  Then I spotted the girl and remembered why I’d been fighting in the first place.

  I left my battered soldier and checked up on her. She was still frozen like some wounded prey stuck in incoming traffic, watching me.

  “You okay?” I asked. “That idiot didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m good. Thanks to you.”

  I exhaled. At least it hadn’t been a total disaster. At the end of the day, I’d stopped whatever that knucklehead had planned for her.

  “Need me to walk you home?” I asked her.

  “I’d like that,” she said, nibbling her bottom lip. “But, I don’t wanna inconvenience you.”

  “Nah, it’s no problem. I’ve got plenty of time before work,” I said, checking my phone. My eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Shit! Is that the time?!”

  “It’s okay, I can get home on my own,” she assured me.

  “Thanks. You keep yourself safe,” I said, rushing back to my bike. It was still as mangled as I remembered and wasn’t gonna help. Either way, I couldn’t leave it. What if someone could repair it on the cheap? That would save me a fortune!

  I heaved the bike under my arm and ran for it, through the park, back into the street, and toward my job.

  Time was running out and my maneuverability was hampered, thanks to my plus one. Even with my fitness levels, it appeared that only a miracle would get me to work on time and save me from a chewing out, courtesy of my boss.

  If anybody deserved that stroke of luck, it was me. But, was the cruel world willing to give me a break after the kick in the teeth it had delivered moments earlier? I prayed the answer was yes.

  ***

  No. The answer was no.

  Reality refused to shit. Situations failed to manifest. A wormhole didn’t open and take me to my destination. I arrived late, dripping with sweat and gasping for air, arm sore from carrying my bike the entire way.

  Paul, my manager, was waiting for me. He was a portly guy with wire-framed glasses and a black head of hair which was struggling to cling on. The burger joint was his place, rather than some chain restaurant, and he took caring for his baby seriously.

  “Sorry I’m late, Paul,” I rasped, clutching my knees while hyperventilating.

  “Don’t ‘sorry’ me,” he said, crossing his meaty arms. “You say that every time, then go and cause more trouble. What did you do this time?”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “Some guy crashed into me. There was nothing I could do about it.”

  “I can see the marks on your knuckles,” he informed me.

  I clicked my tongue. My acting performance had been undermined.

  “Look, these punks were harassing some girl. How could I not stop and help?”

  “I’m paying you to work, not fight. You know how many chances I’ve given you? You’re lucky I didn’t fire you after that last stunt,” he complained, throwing up an arm.

  “They almost ripped Sally’s top off.” I shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Not punch them. You can’t go punching customers, or anybody else.”

  “If they deserve it, I can’t help it. Sally will agree with me.” I looked around the restaurant for her. She was penciled in for this shift as well. “Where is she?”

  “Called in sick,” Paul informed me.

  What a shock. Sally, an unmotivated slacker, was ill on a night with guaranteed party action. I was appalled at myself for not foreseeing it.

  “Well, if she was here she’d back me up,” I told him.

  He removed his glasses and pinched his nose while sighing. “I’m at my wits end with you, Jake. You’re more trouble than your worth.”

  “Come on. You don’t mean that, Paul. Please. You know I need this job.”

  Paul reapplied his glasses and watched me. A long silence lingered between us as he thought things through.

  “Please, Paul,” I implored him. We both knew how much I needed the cash.

  “Fine. One last chance,” he sighed. “You’re lucky Sally ain’t here or you’d be out on your ass.”

  I mentally fist pumped. Thank you, Sally, for leaving the place short-staffed. I owed her a drink.

  “Thanks, Paul,” I said.

  “Don’t think this will save you again,” he warned me. “If you get into any more trouble on my watch, you’re out. Clear?”

  “Crystal, sir,” I barked, saluting.

  He rolled his eyes. “Enough chat. Go get ready. And wash those hands. They’re disgusting.”

  I rushed off to the back to ready myself for the oncoming rush of traffic. This was my first ‘final’ warning from Paul and I didn’t have any reason to view it as a bluff. Another wrong move from me and I was screwed. If there was any time to start living my modest dream, it was now.

  How hard could it be?

  Chapter 2

  Halloween didn’t do much, good or bad, to change how popular Pauly’s was.

  Yes, the burger bar was called Pauly’s. A certain manager was very bad at picking names.

  We saw the same number of customers as usual, give or take. They even arrived at the same time. A rush at the appropriate time that would start to thin as the hour got late.

  I hear 24/7 chains get a lot of customers in the wee hours of the morning, but a tacky little independent place doesn’t have the resources to take advantage of that hungry customer base. Paul only had a handful of employees and only one of them was competent. Luckily, that was me. It was the only reason I’d survived so long. The rest were useless students who didn’t have a clue. Sure, I had a nasty habit of getting myself into trouble, but I always did my work to the best of my ability. Even when it was low paying, unqualified, labor, like serving fast food and cleaning floors, I got it done.

  To think some people struggle to do that much. And I’d seen it first-hand.

  Between me and Paul, we managed to handle peak hours and the falloff. The absence of Sally didn’t make a difference. An extra set of useless hands wouldn’t have added much.

  The world outside had gotten dark and the inside had shifted from noisy to drab. Any conversation filled the entire room and eavesdropping was an inevitability rather than a choice.

  Only a few customers occupied the red plastic chairs and matching tables. It was only a matter of time until they left and removed my only source of lacking entertainment.

  “So bored,” I groaned to myself, slumping against the counter.

  If time goes faster when you’re having fun, surely that means it moves slower when you’re bored? For all we know, seconds usually skip by and only crawl when you’re willing them to whizz pass the most.