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A Dry Heat

Why the fuck does anyone live in Arizona? Murray wondered, sitting in front of an air conditioner at full power in a Courtyard Marriott hotel room in Point Ridge, about 15 miles east of Tucson.

"It's a dry heat," Liam kept saying.

"So is the surface of the sun, but you're not going to buy a condo there."

"I dunno, what are the property values? Could be an investment opportunity."

He was kidding, of course, but Liam was the type who if there were really condos on the sun, he would check Zillow before deciding, just in case.

Murray and Liam lived and worked in upstate New York but had been in Arizona for the last two days on business. Or at least, they were supposed to be there on business, but the business hadn't actually started yet. They were still waiting for the details of their assignment, which seemed highly unprofessional to Murray. If they had been kept waiting for two days at, say, a bed and breakfast in temperate Vermont, or even a resort in Maui that was hot but not the fucking devil's-taint middle of the desert, that would have been reasonable. But Arizona -- just no.

"Pass me the oil," said Murray.

"You're always polishing your broadsword," said Liam with a wink as he tossed Murray the bottle from on top of the night stand. He did mean that as innuendo, of course, but Murray was also polishing a literal broadsword that was resting in his lap, as much for the coolness of the steel as for any maintenance needs. It was a Scottish broadsword, Murray's go-to travel weapon. Liam didn't care for long blades himself, or weapons in general. He had an aversion to sharp objects. He was trained with a staff to some degree, but he was most comfortable with good old fashioned taekwondo, though taekwondo won't cut it -- haha, get it? cut it? -- against an armor-plated netherbeast. Maybe that's why he invited Murray on this trip – it certainly wasn't because Liam thought he would enjoy the weather. Or maybe Liam liked something else about him ...

Okay, okay, so Murray had gone on three dates with Liam, and they'd had sex twice ... or once – it depends on how you count that first time. They'd had sex one-point-six-seven-five times. They met back home when they were both on a team assignment clearing out a nest of mutated boarhounds in a secluded area of Kerrin Hill Park – they should just napalm that park, it's really not safe there.

So it was a pretty routine op, just the four of them: Murray, Liam, Leticia who studied migration patterns and was good at setting traps, and Ayana who had a degree in biology and partnered a lot with Liam – they met doing taekwondo. Murray was there because he lived in the area and patrolled that park several times a week. There turned out to be six boarhounds of about average size: bigger than a goat, smaller than a doe, and angrier than either, but their bark was worse than their bite -- literally, they required special earplugs.

They didn't take long to dispatch, so afterwards they burned off all their extra energy at Ayana's apartment over drinks -- Murray never used to drink, but then he tried a bad whiskey once that tasted like lighter fluid and broken promises, but then felt ... nice. There was a round of teasing Murray over his sword. Admittedly it was an unusual choice of weapon in this day and age, like riding a penny-farthing to work, but it wasn't a hipster thing. It was more of a 'Lord-of-the-Rings'-LARP-hobby-that-got-out-of-hand thing – he might have also had a Viggo Mortensen poster up on his wall as a teenager … or seven. He even tried to grow his hair out that one time, but … no, just no. Anyway, the sword worked for him, and if it weren't working for anyone else he wouldn't be invited on mutated boarhound hunts. But if somebody comes to work riding a penny-farthing, you make fun of that guy. It's part of the social contract.

"I kinda like a guy with a big sword," Liam had said. That was a little … on the nose, but he was a couple of drinks in so Murray didn't hold it against him. And Murray was a couple of drinks in, so he probably wouldn't have noticed subtle. That was the first time Murray ever really noticed Liam in that way. They'd only met a couple of times before so they hadn't gotten to know each other, and he hadn't pinged on Murray's radar one way or the other. Now he winked at Murray. That could have been a signal, or he could have been one of those evolved 21st century straight guys who likes to signal how secure he is by flirting with gay guys safely in the company of their female friends – it could have been more for their benefit than for his.

Nope, super gay. Or at least super bi. Murray just realized that he didn't even know whether Liam was exclusively into guys, and now he was guilty of bi-erasure – dammit, Liam!

Murray figured it out after they'd both had a third drink and Liam went to pick up a pizza from DelVecchio's across the street. He asked Murray to help him carry it, which sounded like a real thing at the time, but before they even got out of the lobby Liam said something dumb about how the sword must be good for the upper body, but Murray hadn't picked up on the first hint, or the second hint, or maybe seven or eight other hints he didn't even know happened so Liam must have been going for a more direct kind of indirect. Then he looked Murray in the eye and Murray looked back in the kind of prolonged eye contact where questions are being asked and answered. Liam kissed him. Then they got the pizza. They returned to Ayana's apartment for another hour or so before Murray went back to Liam's place for some point-six-seven-five.

Murray thought it was just a casual thing. Wasn't waiting for him to call or anything. They hadn't even exchanged numbers, though they did have mutual friends on Facebook and Instagram; Murray might have looked up his profile once or twice the next day -- definitely fewer than a dozen times. But they saw each other again just two days after the boarhound hunt, just some follow-up patrolling of the park. It was part of Murray's regular route, but Liam had volunteered to join him, and after a couple of sweeps turned up nothing of interest they stopped for a late night snack -- sober this time.

Liam wasn't perfect or anything. His ears were kinda big, he gestured a lot when he was excited -- like, a lot -- and he said "namaste" without any trace of irony. Murray was attracted to him -- like, a lot -- but not in the usual way that made him insecure. When you're a man interested in men sometimes you look at someone and see the things that rule you out instead of the things that might rule you in. But Liam was just Liam when Murray looked at him, not a fun house mirror reflecting Murray back at himself.

They saw each other one more time in New York, this time just for lunch when neither of them was carrying a weapon in defense against transdimensional monsters. It didn't even feel like a date. Liam felt more like a friend, and as you get out of school and start to adult new friends don't come around as often, so there's always that giddy feeling even if you're not having sex with them – but also definitely if you are having sex with them.

A few days after that was when Murray got the invitation to go to Arizona. He didn't know at first that Liam was the only other person going or that Liam had requested him specifically. And he was glad he didn't know -- he would have overthought it if he had. Then they landed and exited the airport, and Murray wished he had overthought it maybe an eensy bit.

"It's hot," said Liam, but just as a casual observation without any kind of value judgment. To him it was hot just like water is wet, or like grass is green. But Murray had some value judgments. The surrounding air was his mortal enemy. Where it touched his skin was like a hate crime. He wanted to reply to Liam simply that "Yes, it's hot," or say something clever to make it seem like it didn't bother him as much as it did, but somehow all that came out was "Fuck. Fucking fuck."

Suffice it to say that Murray hadn't left the hotel room very much since they arrived. Liam did every once in a while, to pick up lunch from a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place down the road, sometimes to meditate in the hotel courtyard. He was usually nice enough to pick up something for Murray, but a couple of times he was an evil fucking garbage person and forced Murray outside to eat something besides shitty hotel food. This time, after Murray had finished polishing his sword, Liam invited him to a vegan restaurant he discovered – because he had already gotten to know Point Ridge well enough to discover things.

"I'm starting to worry about this budding agoraphobia thing you've got going on," Liam told him. "Whatever our assignment probably won't be in the hotel, so you're going to have to get outside eventually."

"I reject your interpretation of the facts."

"Have you eaten today yet? Are you hungry?" Murray sneered, but Liam just grinned. So they went to the vegan place. Neither of them were actually vegan, but Liam was a health nut, and once Murray had a meal in him he had to concede that, okay, food was necessary for basic metabolic function.

"How's the mushroom avocado lentil wrap?" Liam asked.

"It's technically food," said Murray. He didn't want to admit it was good. Liam could tell he liked it, but Murray didn't want to give him the satisfaction. And the restaurant was air conditioned, which was all that really mattered.

"That's good -- gotta keep your energy up. You're not here to look pretty."

"I'm not?" said Murray. He was once again well nourished enough to flirt.

"Not JUST to look pretty." Liam took out his phone and scrolled through Yelp, which he'd been doing practically since their flight landed. It's how one discovers hole-in-the-wall Mexican places and vegan restaurants. "Want to check out one of the gay bars tonight?"

"There are gay bars here?" said Murray with surprise. "There are gay people here?"

"Of course there are gay people. The way urban development goes it's gay people first, then vegan restaurants. Next wave is craft beers and artisanal cheese."

Liam held up his phone to show Murray a listing for a place called Buckhorn, but he didn't get too far before a text message notification popped up on the screen. Murray heard his own phone chime as well and they both realized that this must be the assignment they had been waiting for.

"Am I reading this right?" asked Liam. Murray was wondering the same thing. Surprisingly -- but maybe not coincidentally -- the assignment started at Buckhorn, where they would pick up an unknown object containing the instructions for their primary objective. They didn't know what they were picking up; the text message explained that "It will be made clear," but that wasn't very comforting. Was it a book, a weapon, a package, an elephant? Would they be able to carry it discretely? Would they need to learn how it works?

"And are we retrieving it from a gay bar because they just assumed we'd be going to one?" Murray wondered. "Like, 'The gay guys are on assignment, better put it on Grindr to make sure they see it.'"

"Maybe they thought we'd have fun there," said Liam. "More like, 'Hey, the gay guys are on assignment, it would be much more fun for them to vanquish hell beasts to Ariana Grande.' And in that case they're not wrong."

"Borderline homophobic, though, if they assume all gay guys like Ariana Grande."

"Do you?"

"That's not the point."

"You're still irritable -- is it just the heat or do you need to polish your sword some more?"

"My sword is just fine, well honed and ready whenever we need it." Murray wasn't actually sure whether they were talking about his penis. Arizona was throwing him off.

That night Murray brought his sword to Buckhorn discretely strapped to his back, but he probably didn't need to be that discrete. There weren't many people there on a Wednesday night. The lights were low, and music videos were playing on TVs on either side of the bar in the back -- Ariana Grande was one of them. They sat in a couple of stools at the far end of the bar and ordered hard ciders while they waited for ... something. The bartender looked them over for a moment, like he was sizing them up. Not that many out-of-towners here, Murray figured. He startled when the bartender popped back in front of them with their two drinks and another object: a cactus.

It was plastic with a shiny gloss finish and roughly the height of a beer bottle. Murray frowned. Were they supposed to drink out of it? Was that an Arizona thing?

Liam caught on a little faster. He gave the bartender an appreciative nod and started to investigate the object -- this was what they had come for. Murray was the one who noticed a tab at the base of the cactus where it met the pot. He pressed it and the cactus flipped open like a Pez dispenser, revealing a hollow core and a small folded slip of paper.

"It's a map," said Liam. Completely unfolded, it was a little more than the size of a napkin. It looked like the layout of Point Ridge from what they had seen browsing Google Maps since they arrived, but without street names or recognizable landmarks or points of interest. Instead, the map was colored in shades from blue to red to white, like a heat map, with one especially bright white spot off a street that they recognized as just a few blocks from their hotel.

"Okay, but what is it?" Liam asked.

"Turn it over," said Murray.

On the other side of the map was handwritten text explaining the presence of a hell beast nest -- "Hey, you were right about the hell beasts!" said Murray. But they weren't there just to clear out the nest like with the Kerrin Hill boarhounds -- someone local could have done that. New York wanted them to bring back an egg for study -- in the cactus, which was designed to protect and incubate the egg without it hatching. R&D on the egg-storage cactus must have been weird.

"I took one of those classes in high school," said Liam, "where you take care of an egg and try not to break it, and that's supposed to be a baby, and at the end you're supposed to not want to have sex anymore."

"How did that work?"

Liam shrugged. "My egg broke, but I didn't get any guys pregnant."

"So I guess I'll hold the cactus then ... Wait, how many guys did you have sex with in high school?"

"Just about three, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I mean, it depends on how you count certain things," said Liam. "It was high school, we weren't actually good at anything."

"Okay, well how many times would you say we've had sex?"

"Twice," Liam answered without hesitation.

"Even the first time?"

"Of course."

"I never know how to count that. I've met one or two people who wouldn't count it."

"Then they're doing it wrong."

Murray grinned. "So you're saying I did it right?"

Liam smiled too. "I'm counting it, aren't I?"

They used their phones to cross reference their location with the images from the map. It looked to them like the hot spot corresponded to a Walgreens on Campbell Road. Neither of them was sure why there would be hell beasts at a Walgreens, or how no one would have noticed them in the checkout line for deodorant and condoms. But Liam thought they should stop back at their hotel before going to investigate. They had both packed bite-resistant clothes, and hell beasts were four-foot quadrupeds with three-inch razor-sharp teeth, though Murray wasn't sure if it was scarier to get bitten or to go outside in this weather wearing long sleeves. Alright, alright, getting your arm ripped out of your shoulder socket was probably worse than, like, sweating a lot, and the sun was already down anyway, so now was as good a time as any.

They didn't look too conspicuous in their black anti-bite gear. That was good since at close to midnight the 24-hour Walgreens was still bright and had a dozen or so people inside shopping for ointments and detergent and Cheetos and whatnot, with one person manning the registers. Murray and Liam walked up and down the aisles, trying to appear nonchalant while looking for some sign of a hell beast nest -- the smell of dung was usually a dead giveaway. That's something you'd probably notice in a Walgreens, but there was nothing, so after about half an hour they checked out -- Murray bought two bottles of Gatorade to replace what he'd sweated out since they put on their equipment -- and they left the building.

"I'm confused," said Liam, who looked back up at the drug store. "False positive?"

"It looked pretty big on the map for a false positive." Murray walked to one side of the building and then the other. "The map showed the area from the top down, so if it's not inside the Walgreens then it could be above it on the roof."

"Or more likely below," said Liam. He fist pumped emphatically, celebrating a crucial deduction in his usual manner before leading the way to the back of the building. That's where they found a metal access door in the ground. It was secured with a simple padlock, and Murray reached back for his sword so he could impress Liam with some epic swordery. But Liam knew how to pick it, which was better because it was more discrete but worse because it didn't involve a sword. Nevertheless Murray readied himself because they didn't know what might be on the other side. Liam looked at Murray, and Murray gave him a nod back as he took his sword in his hands …

Liam flung the doors open and leapt back while Murray lunged for ... nothing. He slumped his shoulders -- it was like that feeling when you think you're going to sneeze but don't. But even though they weren't pounced upon by hell beasts they were attacked just as ferociously by the smell. And as strong as it was from right outside the open door, it could only get worse from there. Maybe they should have picked up some air freshener from the Walgreens. Or a pack of matches -- strike one and toss it down and your hell beast problem is solved. Unfortunately your innocent-people-shopping-at-Walgreens problem might also be solved. And presumably the egg they brought back was expected not to be flame-broiled.

"Lead the way," said Liam, wrinkling his nose.

"After you," Murray replied.

"No really, I insist," said Liam. After two or three more you-firsts, Murray bit the bullet and descended into the belly of the beast -- or the bile duct of the beast as it were.

They searched for a light once they were down the stairs. Liam held up a small flashlight to shine on the walls in search of a switch, and as they circled the space they found a bulb screwed into the ceiling overhead with a chain attached. Murray pulled it. The meager light showed just a gray room, throwing their faint, dirty shadows against the walls behind them in a way that made them start for a moment. There were boxes scattered across the floor, inventory maybe for the real business upstairs, but nothing to indicate a nest.

Nevertheless, the smell persisted, but there may have been a benefit to it after all. They followed the noxious odor to where it was strongest and traced it to a spot where there appeared to be a crack in the concrete, a straight line that ran up from the floor -- a door maybe, but how did it open? Liam felt along the wall, looking for a hidden lock or release. But now was the time for Murray's sword. He slid it into the narrow crack and was surprised that it went through without resistance -- there was definitely some kind of cavity on the other side. He slid the sword carefully up and down until he hit a spot where it caught on something, at around the level where a deadbolt might be. He maneuvered the sword a bit in a sawing, twisting motion until whatever it was gave way and the concrete section of wall opened inward.

It was dark on the other side of the door. Liam turned on his flashlight again, and Murray turned on his own, which he clipped to his shirt so he could keep both hands on his weapon. At first there was a narrow flight of stairs downward, and then a narrow corridor with roughly constructed cinder-block walls that led left and right. They decided together because only stupid people split up.

Left it was. These passages were only lit by eerie blue recessed lights overhead, so they kept their flashlights on. At the end of the hallway just a few feet away was another left turn, then another, and then a right before they finally passed a room. There wasn't a door, just an open entryway leading to a sight and a smell that made Murray and Liam gag. There was nothing inside but scattered dung and probably urine ... yes, definitely urine. It was wretched, of course, though Murray was slightly distracted from the smell by the fascinating biological implications: however the hell beasts came to occupy this space, they were intelligent enough to use a specialized latrine. No plumbing, though -- humans were still the only known species with plumbing, and that's why we're still the best.

Then there was a noise that made them turn sharply around. It was a piercing sound like a screech or a call, short but urgent, and the way it bounced off of the walls made it impossible to know which direction it came from and how far away it was. Then there was another – a reply maybe? Just how smart were these things?

Murray and Liam left the latrine holding their noses and holding down their lunches, and they kept exploring the lair. It seemed to Murray like they were in one large room cut into a maze of narrow halls, maybe to disorient intruders or limit their range of motion – but that might have just been Murray thinking from his sword-swinging perspective. Either way, however intelligent the hell beasts might be they probably hadn't evolved into masons, so this lair must have been built for them. And that was far more worrisome.

When they reached the end of the maze they could have been anywhere – the center or a far corner, they could have been a few feet away from where they started or clear across the room. They were so focused on defending themselves that they weren't entirely sure how they got where they were, or if they might have been deliberately funneled there.

But there they were, staring at the nest. The eggs around them were surprisingly small given the size of a full-grown hell beast, each about the size of a turkey egg. They were arranged in organized tiers over heat lamps. It seemed almost certain that all this was man-made, but why? Were they being bred to be sold, or trained, or tamed like Chris Pratt and his raptors? Maybe hell beast eggs were delicious – Murray had never tasted one, for the obvious reason that eww. Maybe they'd learn all of the above when they brought one back for study. If they got out of there alive, of course.

The longer they stayed there, the greater the risk, so Murray swung around a satchel he was carrying on his back. He took out the cactus, opened it up, and gave Liam a look that asked if it mattered which egg they brought back with them; it was like a restaurant menu with too many options, but they were all omelets. Liam replied with a shrug – Just pick one. So Murray chose one to his right in the center of the second row – it had kind of a purple sheen that he liked. He carefully placed it into the cactus cavity, closed it, and put it back in his bag.

"Aaaaargh!"

"Liam!"

Murray spun around to see that a hell beast had clamped its chainsaw jaws down on Liam's right forearm. Liam grabbed a telescoping carbon fiber staff from his belt and extended it to fight off the creature. With a surge of adrenaline as he swatted it to the ground Liam cried, "Ha! My sleeves are made of science, motherfucker!" He took a catlike hop backwards as Murray swung his sword and cut off its head. Some people finish each other's sentences, but Murray and Liam finished each other's decapitations.

Liam was panting heavily, more from surprise than from exertion or pain – though the pain was there too. He gripped his bitten arm tightly with his left hand.

"Are you okay?" Murray asked.

"My sleeves are made of science," he repeated. "Also a little blood, but mostly science."

"How bad is it?"

"It's only a flesh wound."

"Obviously it's a flesh wound. The question is how much flesh was wounded. Where would you rate it on a scale of paper cut to '127 Hours'?"

Liam took his hand away. He couldn't see the bite mark since the sleeve had successfully withstood the hell beast's teeth, but he could feel the warm moisture in the area where it had broken the skin. He flexed his fingers and turned his wrist. The damage was superficial. He would still be able to punch things, and he was ambidextrous with his staff. That was good because he was going to need both hands, both legs, and probably his elbows, knees, shoulders, and forehead. Through the door of the nest they saw two, three, four, then five beasts round the corner coming towards them. Either this had been a trap all along or their protective instincts kicked in when Murray and Liam disturbed their eggs.

"Lead the way," Liam joked.

The beasts were walking now, perhaps sizing up the intruders or wary about the safety of their eggs, which gave Murray and Liam a couple of moments to think.

"Plow through or fight them here?" Murray asked.

"I say fight here. We don't know how many there are, and they're bottle-necked by the door. We won't have to fight them more than two at a --"

The first hell beast leaped through the door at Liam, but it was in his strike zone so he was able to bat it away. It whined as it hit the wall in the far corner of the room.

The next two came after Murray so fast he couldn't respond before one bit down on his ankle and another tried to chew into his side. It hurt like hell even with the protective clothing, and the weight of them wrenching him back and forth knocked him off his feet and onto the concrete floor on his hip. The two creatures then tried to make their way up his torso to that sweet exposed head meat, but he was able to twist away from them as one set of teeth snapped so loudly by his ear it was almost like a gunshot. That focused Murray pretty fast; he was able to get control of his sword, and even with limited room to maneuver he spun onto his back and swung at both of them.

Three down, however many more to go.

As Murray and Liam grew accustomed to the physical space and the size, speed, and maneuvers of the creatures, they were able to adjust their tactics. Another beast lunged at Liam with as much speed and power as the first, but he dodged and Murray cut it down in midair. One stayed low to the ground to attack Murray, biting and slashing and using its full weight to force him against the back wall, but he drove his sword down through its front leg and Liam came from behind it and swung his staff down into its neck.

Eight or nine or maybe ten hell beasts came through that room. It was claustrophobic, and their flashlights created a chaotic play of light and dark that put Murray on the verge of panic, so he switched his off and made do with the faint illumination of the one bulb in the ceiling. He couldn't see as well, but at least he wasn't seeing double. One last hell beast flew through the air and caught Murray's cheek with its foreclaw. The force was overwhelming; for a split second Murray couldn't tell up from down until he landed flat on his back with an impact that punched the air out of his lungs. At that moment he had no idea where the beast was. He waited for it to pounce again, but all he heard was a whimper before looking up to see Liam reaching an arm out to help him to his feet.

"I don't see any more of them coming," Liam said. "Do you think we got them all?"

"Let's not wait to find out."

As much as they hurt they ran faster than they had probably ever run before in their lives. They could hear movement and screeches around them their whole way through the maze – they definitely didn't get them all, and Murray wasn't even sure they were going in the right direction, but he kept thinking that as long as they kept running they would be okay, even if it meant running at top speed straight through concrete. With the adrenaline coursing through him, he felt like he could put a hole through solid steel by his momentum alone.

It didn't come to that. He and Liam eventually found the stairway they had come down. Without looking back they ascended in what felt like one giant bound, then again up through the metal door to the surface, and by now even Arizona's sticky night air felt like a relief.

"Are they still coming? Are they still coming?" asked Liam, his voice up a couple of octaves as Murray closed the access door and replaced the padlock that was still lying there on the ground where they'd left it.

"I don't think they're coming," said Murray. "Shit – the egg! Where is it!?" But Liam showed him he was still carrying the satchel on his back, and the cactus incubator was inside, safe and sound.

"It's alright, you did good," Liam assured him. "You did good. I counted three or four times I probably would have died down there if it weren't for you."

"You too," said Murray, who only now noticed his own heavy breathing. "You saved my ass more than once. One-point-six-seven-five times at least."

"I'm think I'm starting to fucking hate Arizona."

"I told you!" And Murray shoved Liam harder than expected. Luckily Liam just laughed.

"Namaste, man," said Liam with his hands up in surrender. "We should probably get back to the hotel before someone notices the two strange men bleeding behind Walgreens. But maybe we should come back. Someone's breeding hell beasts. That's not going to end well. Someone has to stop it."

"Someone without puncture wounds can stop it. We can talk to the guy at Buckhorn. Better yet we can call it in, requires much less getting up and doing things."

They stumbled their way back to the hotel, and this late at night there were few people around to give them strange looks. The pre-dawn hours were eerily quiet in Point Ridge, which was its own kind of disturbing knowing what was still lurking underground.

Back in their room they winced their way out of their protective clothes and assessed the damage. Murray grabbed a first-aid kit from his suitcase and cleaned Liam's arm where he was first bitten. Liam gritted his teeth, and Murray did the same because he knew he was next. But when it was Murray's turn it wasn't so bad. Liam started by cleaning the cut on his cheek, but Murray mostly felt Liam's other hand holding him steady, his thumb reassuringly brushing Murray's other cheek.

"The next assignment you invite me on, maybe autumn in San Francisco," said Murray.

"I'll see what I can do," said Liam. "But I'm really glad you came here."

Murray placed a hand on Liam's bare shoulder, leaned in, and kissed him. "So am I."

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