by M. D. Massey
Within minutes, we were in the sniper’s nest where Colin and I had left Gabby and Sam earlier. All was as we’d left it, except that the smell of gunpowder still hung in the air, and there was a spent .50 caliber round on the ground. I saw no signs of a struggle. I looked at Bobby to see if he sensed anything, and he shook his head. “Let’s move to the roof.”
We exited cautiously. I noted that a hole had been made in the steel exit door by shrapnel. The blast the Tannerite made had turned out to be a lot bigger than I’d planned, and I worried for a moment that some shrapnel might have hit Sam and Gabby. When we got to the rooftop sniper’s nest, however, there was no sign of blood or struggle. Ditto for the rappelling gear. It was in place on the opposite side of the building, and no lines had been cut. Their harnesses were nowhere to be found, which reinforced the theory that they’d at least made it off the top of the building.
“This has me worried, Bobby. Gabby and Sam both are skilled trackers and hunters. No way anything was going to sneak up on them, and so far we’ve found no signs of a fight. So, they either flew away, or they were spirited away by magic.”
“Or something worse,” he said.
I didn’t want to think about the implications of that statement. “Let’s just keep looking, and if we don’t find them, we’ll go free the hostages and hope they show up along the way.”
I still had my harness on, so I opted to clip in and rappel down the building. Bobby took the stairs, saying one trip down the side of a building hanging onto a rope was enough. When I got to the bottom, Colin strolled up out of the brush that bordered the parking lot with a grim look on his face.
“Have you seen the others?” I asked.
His expression told me all I needed to know. “Bad news, Scratch. The vamp took Gabby and Sam.”
“How? It’s broad daylight out here. Ain’t no way a vamp is going to be traipsing around in the sunlight—at least, none of the ones I’ve seen.”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Scratch. This thing is old, and sometimes older supernatural creatures grow much stronger, the longer they’re allowed to remain on this side of the Veil. All I know is, I saw them get into a car and split across the bridge about fifteen minutes ago. I tracked them to see where they were headed, then came straight back to tell you.”
“There aren’t any cars still running, Colin. All the fuel went bad ages ago.”
He smirked. “Believe it or not, he was driving a Tesla.”
“Shit,” I whispered under my breath.
He nodded. “The good news is, they didn’t go far—just to some big white building on the compound.”
I considered our options until Bobby came jogging around the corner. We filled him in and got him up to speed on the situation, then I began laying out how I wanted to do things.
“First, we check on the settlers and get them prepped to get the hell out of here. Then, we raid that compound, kill Van and Piotr, or Peter, or whatever the hell his name is.” I paused and glared off in the distance at the compound. “And then, we steal his car.”
On our way to the small hotel where the wolves had housed the hostages, Josef and Rabbi Manny came running up the road toward us. Well, at least, Josef did. The good rabbi sat on Josef’s shoulders, hitching a ride while all those knives and bottles strapped to his chest and waist bounced around like Christmas tree ornaments in an earthquake. They reminded me a lot of a scene from a George Lucas movie, and I wasn’t the only one who picked up on it.
Bobby noticed him and scowled. “Great, Rabbi Sunshine is here.”
“I take it you’re referring to Yoda and the frost giant he’s riding?” Colin asked.
“I’ll explain it later,” I told him quietly, as Josef jogged up and came to a halt in front of us with a few final, earth-rattling steps. I made introductions between them, and filled Manny in on the situation.
The rabbi rubbed his chin. “So then, how do you propose we deal with the wolf and the vampire?”
I rubbed the grip of my holstered Glock. “Well, first I plan to free the settlers. Then, I’m going to find Gabby and Sam. After that, I’m going to kill Van and the bloodsucker.”
The rabbi stuck his lower lip out and squinted. “A simple plan—I suppose it will do.” He looked down at my arm and then gave me a visual once over. “You look like scheisse. How badly are you injured?”
“I ran into Hate inside the building. He left me with this, and told me Van would be waiting for me in the compound.” I held up my splinted arm and then pointed across the bridge.
In response, the old man pulled out a clear glass bottle with some foul-looking, brownish-grey liquid inside. “Here, drink this.” He tossed it to me, so I snatched it out of the air and examined it carefully.
“Cool, power-ups!” Bobby exclaimed. “Got any for werewolves?”
“Bah! This is not a video game, you dimwit. It only dulls the pain, without dulling the mind.” The old man spat off to the side and glowered at him. “Besides, your werewolf metabolism would eliminate it before it did you any good.”
Bobby turned to Colin and whispered loudly behind his hand. “See why I call him Rabbi Sunshine? He’s buckets of fun.”
Colin spoke back sotto voce. “I’m starting to get that impression.”
Tired of the banter and ready to kick some werewolf and vampire ass, I pulled the stopper off the bottle and slugged it back. It tasted like a cross between a well digger’s ass sweat and mint tea, and it burned my throat all the way down. “Ugh. You should serve that with a whiskey chaser.” I placed my hands on my knees and let the drink settle.
He waved me off. “Ach! You are all ingrates and jokers, the lot of you.” He prodded Josef with his heels. “Come, Josef, before I have to put up with any more of this infantile humor.” Josef quietly complied, heading in the direction of the hotel at a trot.
I looked at the others. “You guys ready for this?”
Colin nodded. “Lead the way.”
Bobby rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I’m about to go spread some Hate all over this place.” Colin gave him a fist bump to acknowledge the pun.
I just ignored him. I didn’t want to encourage that sort of behavior.
“Alrighty then,” I replied. “Let’s end this.”
33
WOMEN
The hotel was only a short jog away, and already settlers milled around in front arguing as we arrived. I was happy and a bit relieved to see Janie, who’d run the commissary for the settlement, at the center of one very heated discussion.
Janie raised her voice in anger as she spoke, and she waved her fists in the air. She had a black eye, a split lip, and there were bruises up and down her arms in various states of healing. On seeing her current condition, the thought of what had happened to these folks while I was convalescing made my heart sink. However, at the moment she appeared none the worse for the wear. She argued with an older woman who I recognized as Nadine, one of the old biddies who had always caused trouble around the settlement. As I looked around, I saw several faces missing from the crowd—more than I cared to think about, in fact. I was surprised that Nadine had made the forced march into Austin, and briefly felt guilty for thinking that it should have been someone else.
“This may be our only chance, Nadine. I say we get the hell out of here, now, before they come back!” Janie’s voice hit a crescendo as she yelled, and spittle escaped from her mouth in her fury.
Nadine saw us coming before Janie did, and pointed over her shoulder with a snide remark; it was something to do with my tardiness and poor timing. Janie turned around in surprise, which turned to anger and fear when she saw Bobby. I realized that I should have had him transform back before approaching the settlers, but it was too late; the damage had been done.
She crossed her arms and squared her stance, tilting her head in Bobby’s direction. “Scratch, I can’t say I’m not glad to see you, but I also can’t say I approve of your companion here.”
I n
oticed several of the settlers beginning to back away in fear and waved Bobby back. “He’s a friend, Janie, from the Gulf Coast pack. And he came to help.”
She looked Bobby up and down while he made an effort to look harmless, a tall order considering that he was covered in dried blood. She then turned her gaze to Colin, and finally the rabbi who still sat atop the golem’s shoulders. To be honest, Josef was a hell of a lot more intimidating than Bobby, but he kept his face hidden within his hood, so I supposed Bobby looked like the more immediate threat.
Finally, her expression softened, and she smiled a crooked grin. “Well, if this is our rescue party, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.” She closed the distance to hug me, whispering in my ear as she held me tight. “Thanks for coming, Scratch. I knew we could count on you.”
I hugged her back then released her, allowing her to take a step back. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner. I was—delayed, you might say.”
She looked at the makeshift splint and the other various scrapes and bruises that had marked me and smiled slightly. “At least you made it. That’s more than I can say for some.”
“Well, Sam followed you all the way out here, and he helped us take on the ’thropes. And Donnie—he’s no longer with us.” If she reacted to the news, I didn’t notice. I was too busy looking around at the faces before me—mostly women, kids, and some teens. It looked like the wolves had either killed all the men or sold them off to the punters. I realized that some of the corpses back in the theater had probably been people I knew. My blood boiled at the thought.
“Look, Janie, I’d love to catch up, and I have my fair share of questions, but I need to know where Kara is right now.”
Janie’s face soured noticeably, and her brow furrowed. “No offense, Scratch, but I wouldn’t have much to do with that traitor if I was you.”
I sighed. “Well, I’m sure there’s a lot I don’t know, but there’s a lot you don’t know as well. Can you please just point me in the right direction?”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “Not much point in me trying to tell you she’s a lost cause, is there?” I said nothing, waiting for her reply. “Well, no one ever could tell you anything you didn’t want to hear. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She pointed past some stores, across the road to the college. “Look for her in that big white building. That’s where you’ll find her.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Janie. Now, do me a favor and get these people ready to leave. I have a safe place prepared for you, away from the settlements. Someplace no one will find us, where you can start over.”
“That sounds great, but you’re going to have a hard time making some of these people go.” The confusion must’ve been evident on my face. “That vamp put the ojo on them, you see. They won’t budge an inch unless he tells them to now.”
“So why aren’t you brainwashed too?” I asked, with just a hint of suspicion in my voice.
“What you’re asking is, did he do the same thing to Kara?” She scowled. “You’ll see.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. “I meant what I said, Janie. Be ready.”
She spoke over her shoulder as she walked back to others. “We’ll be ready, if you make it back.”
We five left the settlers to prepare for their departure, the sun setting as we strode across the road to the gates of the compound. We knew for a fact that Van, Hate, and Piotr waited for us, and we also knew they were using Gabby and Sam as bait to draw us in. I was determined get my friends back, and I didn’t need to know anything else. I checked my pistols to make sure they were ready to go, and loosened the katana in the scabbard over my shoulder. I fingered the handles of the tomahawk and Bowie as I strolled forward, while Colin marched next to me with his massive sword resting over his shoulder.
Josef walked like an automaton, which I supposed he was, although to what extent it still wasn’t clear. The rabbi fiddled with his bottles and blades for a few moments as he rode on the great monster’s shoulders. He began muttering to himself in Yiddish, making strange motions with his hands and twisting his fingers in oddly contorted positions. Whether he was actually working magic, or just doing some Jewish kuji-in ninja mind-focusing shit, I had no idea. At this point, I didn’t care, so long as the golem was fighting on our side.
Bobby, on the other hand, looked like a dog who’d just rolled in a dead animal and taken a massive dump. In other words, he was exuberant. Under his happy puppy demeanor, I knew that he was worried about Gabby, but something about this impending face-off with Van and Hate had him stoked. It made me wonder whether this was an event he’d been working toward all along.
Once we entered the compound, it wasn’t long before we ran into the father and son. Now, I’d thought that Hate was a big ’thrope, and he certainly was; a good six foot six, if an inch. But he was dwarfed by the figure who stood next to him. That individual, who I assumed was this Van I’d heard so much about, was easily of the same height as Josef. At that moment, I felt like David facing down Goliath. Fighting him, I’d indeed be fighting a giant; what sucked was that he hadn’t even taken his werewolf form yet.
Nevertheless, he certainly cut an imposing figure just as he was. His long Viking hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his rugged Scandinavian face was clean and neatly shaved. He wore the typical tacti-cool outfit worn by modern mercenaries everywhere: loose khaki cargo pants and a black compression t-shirt that showed every last bulging muscle. Combat boots completed the ensemble. He made eye contact as I sized him up, and smiled. It was not a friendly smile.
Hate stood a step to his left and behind him, holding Sam off the ground by the scruff of his jacket. Someone had beaten Sam bloody; bruises and cuts made a mess of his face, and he struggled to breathe. Little flecks of blood shot from his nose and mouth each time he exhaled, his suffering evident as his chest rose and fell.
It made me angry to see one of my friends—one of my pack—injured and helpless like this. That anger stirred the bloodlust within me, and although it filled me, my mind was clear as a bell. I pictured their blood spilling at my hands and reveled at the thought. Van spoke and broke me out of my reverie. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, almost melodious, as he greeted us from across the parking lot.
“Scratch Sullivan, itinerant hunter and protector of the Texas Hill Country. The rabbi Emmanuel Borovitz, and his pet abomination. Coileáin MacCumhaill, bearer of the wisdom of the Salmon of Knowledge and the curse of Cú Chulainn. And Robert Thomas Randolfson, adopted son of Samson Randolph, alpha of the Gulf Coast pack.” He spread his arms wide and smiled with an amused grin that did not reach his deep-set gray eyes. “Welcome.”
“You should let my friend go,” I replied.
Van chuckled. “I should do many things, but I only do that which pleases me. That one was instrumental in destroying what remained of my pack after you so brutally slaughtered the rest. Blood cries for blood, Scratch—you know that, intrinsically now. The call of the pack, it sings within you, just as it drives you to protect this useless sack of meat.
“You thought that when they gave you our power, it would merely change your body? Of course not. No power comes without its price. Your very soul is marked by what science has done to you; for where does the soul rest, but within the very molecules and atoms of our cells?”
The rabbi spoke up, in a calm and commanding voice. “You have no soul, monster. Only a spirit that has been made corrupt. And now, you use what gifts that Yahweh granted you to desecrate that which you were meant to protect.”
Van didn’t even acknowledge the rabbi’s words. He only had eyes for me. “So tell me, ‘alpha’: will you run to save your life, or die to save your people? Because after my son and I cut through you and your friends here like a scythe through stalks of grain, who will be left to save your people then?” He laughed. “Don’t you see? You lose either way.”
I looked at Sam, who was probably dying while we spoke, and realized that I was tired of this prick�
��s jabbering, and most of all just plain tired. I’d already made this decision, weeks ago when I left the settlements to see what was going on here in the Corridor.
“Then I’ll lose fighting,” I said, pulling both .45’s and firing them simultaneously at both Hati and Vanagandr.
34
FEAR
I was firing left-handed and with an injured arm at Hati, so I hit him in the arm instead of the head. That kind of pissed me off, because I seriously wanted to kill that son of a bitch. The good news was that Bobby wasn’t far behind my draw, bounding toward the bastard by the time I’d snapped off the third round. Ol’ Hate wasn’t missing a beat, and had already discarded Sam like a broken toy to turn and catch Bobby coming by the fourth or fifth round.
Now Van, on the other hand… that was a totally different matter. I hit him four or five times in succession, all aiming at the head and neck. By all appearances, he didn’t even flinch. I mean, not a muscle. Then, he sort of shimmered and began to change; well, if you could call it that. I’d classify it more in the “transmogrification” category, because he didn’t turn into the same half-human, half-wolf form that all the other ’thropes had taken.
Nope. The freak shifted into a giant, horse-sized wolf. I mean, this thing was huge, easily a thousand pounds or better. And to be honest, he was beautiful and terrible all at once. His coat was a charcoal color, with shades of lighter gray and blonde mixed in, and flecks of black. His shape and muzzle were longer and slimmer than the North American wolves I’d seen at zoos before the War, and he looked like he was built for speed more than power. Not like a half-ton wolf would have a problem in that department; I figured if he got hold of me, I’d be done for in a heartbeat just the same.
