The big thing was closing too fast to escape. Franks listened to the noise, judged the most likely path, and walked calmly to the side. He did not know exactly what he was dealing with, but there were certain irrevocable rules when you were fighting something huge. Number one was to stay the hell out of its way. He took the opportunity to perform a tactical reload, stowing his partially expended magazine and inserting a new one. The oncoming monster’s roar shook the subway. Franks looked at the 10mm pistol in his hand. He would need a bigger gun.

Two-by-fours broke and the hanging lights went swinging wildly as Biggest burst in. The thick grey hide, long black hair, generally humanoid shape, and the fact that it was over eight feet tall told Franks he was dealing with an ogre. Its momentum carried it through the area, destroying everything in its path. Franks let it go crashing by.

There were humans behind it, fit and aggressive, so probably STFU operatives. They were dressed in plainclothes, but they were carrying long arms. It was difficult to tell what kind since they’d activated their weapon-mounted flashlights. He needed a bigger gun, and sure enough, they’d helpfully brought some.

They were moving quickly, crouched, weapons shouldered and ready, but it was easy to get tunnel vision and focus in on a charging, rampaging, terrifying ogre, so the first man didn’t even see Franks step out of his hiding space right behind him. Franks drove the Emerson’s blade into the base of his skull and twisted. He let go of the knife so he could shoot with a two-handed grip. He swung around and put his sight on the next weapon light. The second man died half a second later. The third and final had time to turn and engage, but the only shot he got off missed Franks by several inches before Franks ended him with a pair of 10mm bullets.

There were more men coming, but he’d gotten what he needed. Franks stepped back as the others reacted and opened fire on his position. Franks stuffed the Glock back into the bellyband, then picked up the M-4 carbine belonging to the man he’d stabbed in the spine. If he had time, he’d come back for the Emerson. It was a good knife.

The ogre had realized it had gone too far, had turned, and was lumbering back. Its arms were so long that its knuckles nearly dragged on the floor. It was wearing a big blue blanket with a head hole cut out like a poncho. Its red eyes narrowed when it saw Franks. “I smash bad thing. Get a shiny to keep in my pocket, says I’m no monster. Hunters can’t hunt Biggest no more!” Then it saw the eyeless man. “The bad thing broke Putlack!”