“Another beer?”

“Sure!” I said, grabbing the offered can, popping it open, and downing half of it in one swig. I may technically be on-duty, but isn’t this part of my job being undercover? It’s like how undercover narcos are allowed to do drugs if it helps them to maintain my cover. It is my right, no, my duty to drink in excess while armed.

“Hey, doc! The hobbit seems to have alcohol poisoning!”

“Nah, if anything it seems like he hasn’t had enough. Just in case I’ll add a bit extra to his drink!”

“Doc, that’s gunpowder.”

“Maybe it’ll give him the boost he needs to get his next growth-spurt.” Doc said. Her personality really seemed to take a shift when when drinking.

Clearly this was group of responsible individuals. You know what? I’m sure they’re all law-abiding. I don’t think I need to be vigilant of them. It’s really nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t worry about anything.

“Hey guys, wanna see something cool?” Doc called out.

brrrrrrt

Hmmmm, one trigger pull, multiple discharges. And I guess that looks like a third whole drilled for an auto-sear… Eh, the ATF doesn’t even know the legal definition for a machine gun, they can’t expect someone press-ganged into being one of their agents to know it. Besides, they’re glorified revenuers, they can suck a fat dick.

“Neat, can I give it a try?” I asked.

“Sure.”

brrrrt

Fun. A lot of fun.

“I wish I had one of these.”

“Unfortunately this one’s a post-sample. It’s really kind of shitty, but we can only really sell these to LEO’s.”

“Oh, you’re an SOT?” Special Occupational Tax, meaning he’s legally allowed to possess post-ban full auto’s for sales to police.

“Yeah. Only way to get a hold of the fun stuff legally.”

Hmmm, I wonder if I could get my agency to buy some fun stuff for me from him… except no, that would completely blow my cover. I have been wanting a sub-machine gun though. You know, as a duty rifle. For my job at the archives. And maybe a general-purpose machine gun. I’ve even looked into procurement myself. I’ve always wanted a m240 of my own, and a few other guns. Wait a minute...

“Have you ever gotten any weird requests from agencies?”

“Yes. I got a prank one a while back from someone claiming to be from the National Archives, but the information they gave me was all out of whack. It seemed pretty suspect. I know some more hush-hush groups tend to use weird stuff when trying to get arms for a plausible-deniability sort of thing, but this was just absurd. The list of, and I quote, “Guns I really want” included a P90, which would be perfectly reasonable if they didn’t specify “like the cute bunny girl in that show has”. They went on to ask if we could machine receivers from scratch because they claimed their mission “had a mighty need for a Chauchat.” The list also included a full-auto 1911 like the John Dillinger one, and a Lahti anti-tank rifle.”

“Haha, weird...”

“Hey, Amy, is there a light coming from your tent?”

“Uhhh, I guess my flashlight might have turned on last time I went to grab a bottle of liquor. I’ll check it out.”

I stumbled my way over to my tent, and unzipped the door to find Liah reading a book. Hurriedly, I slid into the tent.

“What are you doing? Someone will notice you!”

“I’m sorry to blow your oh so deep cover. I figured you were so engrossed in your conversation with Doc that a bit of light would go unnoticed. Besides, isn’t this conversation just as likely to be heard by them?”

“Oh, right.” But turning on a light is still much too much. I thought in her general direction. It’s still weird getting used to this, and my brain is kind of fuzzy after being most the way through a 12-pack of lager.

I was bored. You’re out there having the time of your life, with that woman doting over you and showing off her illegal guns to you...isn’t it your job to get evidence of that? She replied, an edge to her voice, er, thoughts.

I’m not gonna be a narc like that. Besides, they’re legal. Apparently I even tried to order from her company a few weeks ago.

I’m sure it’s fate. She thought back sarcastically.

What’s your problem?

Do you prefer the older-sister type? You seem to be having plenty of fun flirting up a storm with her. Or is it something else she has that you like?

My eyes started to drift down before I caught myself. I firmly made eye contact.

She’s nice to me, but I hardly think being polite counts as flirting.

Don’t forget, we have a contract. You understand what that means, right?

You mean the contract forced on us by my boss? That’s not exactly my doing…

I mean the familiar contract you idiot. You may be book-smart but I’ll be damned if you aren’t thick-headed at times. Is everyone with your background like this?

No… I do know someone worse than me however.

So you do admit it. I can’t imagine dealing with someone worse than you. But the familiar contract. Do you really think someone who’s pledged to you, on such a deep level, would be okay with being treated like an afterthought like this?

I offered to introduce you to the group.

Ugh, maybe I should have… but, I had work of my own to do.

Work related to being a familiar?

Did you forget? I told you that I had homework to get done. While you were off getting drunk with the walking embodiment of Navy stereotypes over there, I was stuck doing homework.

That’s really only a stereotype for male sailors… but uh, how did homework go?

Daliah sighed, and put aside the book she was reading, rummaging through her backpack to produce a sketchbook.

Here. She said, handing it over turned to a page covered in pencil sketches. Our assignment was to do plant studies, so I suppose in a way this trip wasn’t too bad for school.

The page was filled with close-ups of the plants one would fine in the woods in autumn. Dead leaves, mushrooms, and close-ups of tree bark. In all honestly, they were pretty amazing. And for some reason, the subject matter seemed to resonate with me.

Do you like them? She asked sheepishly.

You already know the answer to that. I replied.

We sat there a moment in silence, , listening to the sounds of nature and drunken revelry for a moment. Then, a voice called out.

“Amy, you doing okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

“I-I’m fine. I was just getting my sleeping system set-up.”

“You didn’t do that already? Always better to do that in daylight.”

“I should be back out shortly.” I called back. I guess I couldn’t stay in here forever.

I guess I should get out of here.I said to Liah, getting up to leave. But all of a sudden, Liah froze, like a cat startled and suspicious of something. You could practically see the hackles rising , and the ears pointing up. Or rather, cat ears appeared on her head as she sat their, alert and full of tension.

“Something’s coming.” She said, before turning completely into her cat form.

I felt all sense of intoxication flee my body as I unzipped the tent. Liah bounded out, with me following after, my hand ready to draw my 1911. I ran up to my folding chair, which had one of the rifles I was showing off, a French Mas 49/56, leaning against it. It was unloaded as I had been letting people look at it, but I slammed a magazine into it and racked back the charging handle. Dave and Doc seemed confused by the sudden turn of events, but even in my haste I noticed Gabe, Smith and Jeff with slung rifles ready to face a threat.

“What’s going on...” Dave began to ask, but was shushed by Jeff.

We stood there, silent, waiting for the… thing to show itself. The forest itself was unnaturally silent. Then, the cry of a cat, Liah, drew my attention. Silhouetted against the faint horizon, were antlers, dark and menacing. A tramping noise echoed in the night are as the figure rapidly grew nearer. I raised my rifle, looking down the sights towards the thing that seemed to be charging us. Time seemed to slow down as my focus seemed to extend towards the misshapen form below the pair of antlers

“Look out, it’s coming right at us” Dave shouted.

I let fly with a pair of shots, barely even registering the ringing in my ears as I prepared to follow up if the first two shots failed to stop the creature. The creature dropped like a rock, it’s momentum tumbling it into the edge of the firelight, enough for us to make out it’s form.

It was a deer.

Oops.

Uhh… Isn’t this poaching?

The tension that had previously filled the air seemed to dissipated. The six of us, seven counting the black cat Liah, stared awkwardly at the now dead buck.

“Uhh, I have a muzzle loader tag… I guess we can say I filled it while out here...” Jeff finally broke the silence.

“Thanks.” I replied. While I suppose this might fall under qualified immunity? Does it? I dunno, with all the murmurs of spooky stuff I feel I acted appropriately. I probably could have gotten out of the legal issues of poaching charges by flashing my badge at the Fish and Game cops, but… to think, my first shooting as a federal agent would be a deer. Normally feds are known for shooting dogs if anything. I… just don’t know. Liah meowed again at the deer.

“Welp.” Jeff said. “I guess I should at least field dress it. Normally that’s the job of whoever shoots it, but you seem a bit shaken.”

“Wait, Amy, is that your cat?” Gabe asked, confused. Not sure how to respond, I just nodded.

Another awkward pause. Then…

“Awww, she’s so cute! Can I hold her? What’s her name!” Doc rushed forward, scooping Liah up and looking at the collar while petting her. “Chesty? You named your cat Chesty?” I nodded. I had not actually gotten her a new collar, and I had registered her with animal control before it was revealed she wasn’t just an ordinary cat, so she was kind of stuck with it.

“You really named your cat after Chesty Puller? That’s kind of moto...” Gabe said, bewildered, watching as Doc hugged an increasingly annoyed looking Liah into her chest.

What was that you said earlier about getting too close to Doc? I thought towards Liah.

I don’t want to hear about it. This is already bad enough. Being called Chesty, with my face literally being shoved into… Just, please don’t talk about this.

Okay, I responded, trying not to laugh. But what she said next cut my laughter short.

You know this wasn’t the thing out there. The thing I sensed? If anything it was just as scared of it as we were?

You mean…

The monster the reports told of is here.. and it’s out there, waiting.

An ominous line, made slightly less ominous by the former Corpsman shoving her small, feline face almost mockingly into her chest.