by S A Ison
Ž
Reggie of the Redmond Klavern, No. 73, stepped out on his porch and surveyed the mess in his yard. He was alone, many of his KKK brethren lying dead on his lawn along with his family. He had gotten home several hours before only to find out that he was too late. Too late to save his family. When he’d gotten home finally, his wife and oldest, Hunter, were out in the yard. But they were no longer his wife and child, they were something else. Their blue eyes were black and their faces devoid of color. Their veins were nearly black, stark against the pale skin. Marney had ugly bite marks on her arms and cheek. He’d nearly fallen to his knees when his sweet Hunter had come around the back of the house, his arm missing. Raw and jagged flesh hanging off his shoulder.
Bite marks covered his legs and his face. One of his eyes were missing and Reggie had vomited. Marney had started coming for him, groaning and gnashing her teeth. Her hands were raised in curled threat. He had run back to his Jeep and retrieved his Beretta APX. His heart beat painfully in his chest when he shot his wife in her head and he watched her fall hard to the ground. He turned just as his ten-year-old got to him and he pushed the boy away from him. Hunter’s mouth was gaping and the child snarled. Reggie was weeping hard now and he knew he would have to shoot his baby. His legs were weak and he screamed his agony as he killed his child.
He fell to his knees and gathered in his dead child, clutching the bloody thing to his chest. Reggie couldn’t seem to stop screaming over and over as he rocked the child. Anguish, sorrow and madness washed over him. He was brought out of his torment by movement from the corner of his eye. One of his neighbors was coming toward him quickly and Reggie fell back as the man lunged toward him. He raised his weapon and shot the man in the shoulder. It didn’t slow the man down and Reggie fired again, hitting him in the head. The man fell back and landed on top of Marney. More of the zombies came and he saw that several were from his Klavern, friends. Had they come to check on Marney and the boys? When had they turned? Had they carried the virus?
He began shooting them. He knew the sound of the shots would bring more zombies. He wiped at the tears on his face and he got up and picked up Hunter and laid him beside his mother. Going to the Jeep, he ejected the nearly empty magazine and shoved in a fresh one. He then put another full mag in his back pocket. He went to the house with a deep sense of dread. He’d not seen Jeb and he prayed that his sweet little boy was alive and not one of those things. Maybe his son was hiding? The door to the house was wide open and he stepped cautiously in. He saw Dillon, one of his friends, but Dillon had milky white eyes and his face looked as though it was sagging off the bones. Reggie caught the scent of decay.
Dillon snarled and moved toward him, his body jerking and uncoordinated. Zombie Dillon moved quickly for all that and Reggie fired, dropping his once friend. He wiped at the tears streaming down his face.
“Jeb? Son, where are you?” he called, his heart beating painfully in his chest. His mouth trembled and sobs tore through him. He went to his son’s room which was closed, he saw blood smeared on the doorknob and the door jamb. He opened the door and a scream burst from his chest. His sweet little baby was chewed up. His little legs had numerous bite marks, his cheek, his arms. The boy had been savaged and it appeared that he’d run and hidden in his room. Under the bed was a large puddle of dried blood. Mewing growls came from his son and with a shaking hand, Reggie put his child to rest. His ears rang with a high pitch tone from the gunshot and the screams that wouldn’t seem to stop and he slid down the doorframe, he couldn’t move for a long time. Sorrow threatened to take his sanity.
It was nearly dark when he picked his baby up and held the small hand in his. The fingers were stiff and he brought the hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. He rubbed it down his unshaven cheek, the last feel of his baby. He carried Jeb out and laid him beside his mother and older brother. There were more of the zombie creatures and he shot them. He reloaded the Beretta and shot more. Soon the night was quiet and Reggie sat on the steps of his home and stared at the pile of bodies. He was numb, his eyes wide and unblinking. He’d not been home to keep his family safe. He’d been stopped at every turn and it had been a race to get home. And to what? His family was gone and he’d had to finish it. He swallowed hard.
A shuddered breath went through him, causing his slender frame to quiver. He ran his fingers through his deep auburn hair and pulled, as though he could rip the last hour’s events from his mind. Zombies. It was like nothing he could ever imagine yet he’d had to pull the trigger over and over to drop the people he knew and loved. Children, men, women, old, it didn’t matter. There were bodies all over the yard. There were too many to bury and deep down he knew he couldn’t stay here, couldn’t live in the house where he’d killed his children. He would have to burn this place to the ground and he would have to burn them all. His gorge rose in his throat at the thought. He wiped at his mouth and spit. Across the road were more of those filthy creatures, walking in the dark shadows of night.
His body shook with grief. Marney, Jeb and Hunter, gone and it had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He thought he knew what life was about, fighting the good fight and taking care of his family. But this virus, this thing had come out of nowhere and had taken over his home, his town and his life. Who had set it free? The Arabs? Chinks? Who? He got up and went into the house to the couch and turned on the TV but it was the same on every channel. The news was repeating itself, just as it had on the radio. His eyes grew heavy and soon he was gone.
Ž
Xander shifted and felt the heat of Zahara beside him. Sometime during the night, she had crawled into his bed. She felt good next to him. He turned and drew her sleeping form into his arms. He’d not make a move, he didn’t want his face bitten off, but it was nice to hold her. He’d gotten used to it over the past week while she’d stayed at his cabin. His cabin. He knew what he needed to do and that was to head back there and hunker down. He was no hero and this was not his job or his fight. He knew there was the Redstone Army facility nearby. They could deal with this shit, if there was anyone left alive.
Even now he detected the low moans of the zombies outside. They would have to find another car dealership and hopefully the dealership would have an assortment of large vehicles. They could always swing by the police department; they might have assault vehicles. They needed something with bulletproof windows, the zombies might be dead, but they were strong and relentless. He sighed heavily and Zahara shifted and he looked down into her bright eyes and saw the humor behind them.
“What?” he asked, his voice deep and gruff from sleep.
“You like me. I can tell and I can hear you growling deep down so your animal likes me too,” she said, her eyes squinting at him with laughter. He liked looking at her in the morning, she looked beautiful. Dangerous too.
“What’s not to like,” he said and smoothed her hair back away from her face. Her smile disappeared.
“I’m totally fucked up. I’m really not someone you’ll want to care about, Xander. All I know is killing and there’s nothing else inside.”
“Let’s just worry about what’s outside for now. I think you see things a little skewed, but I wouldn’t change you for anything. I’m thinking about heading back to the cabin, there’s nothing for us here and there sure as shit is nothing for us in Washington, if anyone or anything is left there.” He felt her hand come up to his chest and felt the heat of it. He’d not held a woman in years. Years and years. He’d dated a woman in France sixteen years before; he’d been there on assignment for two months and had taken a chance and it had been wonderful but short. He’d not let her get close to him, she was his cover and so he’d used her. But holding a woman in his arms had been a rare and wonderful thing and Zahara was small and fragile and so strong.
He could smell the wolf in her now and his heart rate picked up. His ears picked up the cough from the next room. Ethan was waking up.
“Are we taking Moreno with us?” she aske
d.
“Unless he has someplace else to go, I think we should.”
“He was going to kill me.”
“He was going to try. And he didn’t even do that. He’s a good guy. Besides, I think we’re gonna need all the guns we can get. Do you hear all of those things outside the window?” he asked, shifting his arm and propping his head up.
“I was wondering about that. Sounds like there’s a shit ton of them out there. I thought they went into hiding when the sun came out?” she said and her hands were moving over his chest and his body was starting to heat up from the touch of her. He wondered why she was touchy, touchy all of a sudden? Was it because it was the end of the world? An apocalyptic romance? He wanted to snort at the idea of it. He looked at the window and though the curtains were drawn closed, there was bright light bleeding through.
“Maybe they’re changing, getting used to the sunlight. That’s gonna be a problem.”
“No shit. We need more ammo,” she said.
“We need to get the hell out of Huntsville and away from all these zombies.” He sat up and shoved the sheets off of him and stood with his back to Zahara. His body was responding too easily to her and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not having control over himself. He looked over his shoulder and saw the mischievous grin on her face. Her canines were long and her eyes glowed. She was letting the wolf show and he shook his head. He guessed there was no reason to keep it hidden any longer. Something had set her free and he didn’t think he could rein her in. He kind of liked the wilder side of her, it called to his inner self.
An hour later they stood in the lobby of the hotel looking out the large windows. There were hundreds of zombies milling around in the parking lot.
“How in the hell are we going to get to the truck?” Ethan said, his hands on the top of his head.
“I know how, but you’re not gonna like it,” Zahara said in a singsong voice. Xander looked over at her and her eyes were glowing now, bright and gold. His mouth flattened out. They could shoot their way out but what happened when the bullets were gone? How many zombies could they fight barehanded? Hundreds? Thousands?
“If we get bit, we might turn,” he said softly, his hands beginning to unbutton his shirt.
“I’m okay with that. If you want, I’ll go out and kick some zombie ass and if I don’t turn, come on out and join me,” she said and giggled, shifting from one foot to the other. He watched as she began to undress and Ethan’s mouth fell opened and Ethan looked from her to him. Xander shrugged.
“If we use our weapons and we run out of ammo, we’re dead, there are just too many out there. So, Zahara and I will go out and clear the way. You might want to stand back,” Xander said as he tossed his shirt to a chair. He kicked off his boots and his eyes shifted to Zahara, who was flinging her clothing to the floor, her teeth already growing. She really is enjoying all of this, he thought. He felt the tingle of exhilaration from not having to hide the animal within. He could feel the animal starting to surge forward and felt a kind of euphoric savagery burst forth.
Ethan backed up and his hand rested on his weapon. Not that it would do any good if what Zahara had said about killing her was true. His mouth grew dry as the two of them stripped down naked. There were soft pops and snaps as their bodies began to shift and change. Ethan could feel his heart begin to pound in his head and chest as he watched in both fascination and horror. Xander’s legs were growing and popped backwards. A wave of nausea swept through Ethan, this was crazy, it just couldn’t be happening. He watched as Xander’s back broadened and arched while large knobby vertebra popped out like a ridge along his back. Fur was coming out in dark swaths and the snarls coming from the both of them made his skin crawl. Every hair on his body was lifted in primordial warning. There was a loud whooshing in his head as he moved farther back away from the changing pair.
Xander was now standing at just over seven feet though it was hard to tell since his back and shoulders were slumped forward. The diminutive Zahara was now nearing six feet or more and though she was smaller, she was no less powerful. Her thigh muscles were ripped and cut and massive. She could probably jump twenty feet with little trouble. Her teeth, like Xander’s fangs, were long and both were slavering, globs of heavy saliva dripping off the razor-sharp incisors. Black, six-inch claws hung from half curled fingers. Ethan looked at their feet, which were elongated and noted the four-inch claws. It reminded him of the velociraptors in the movies. They could gut a man with one swipe. He nearly screamed when both werewolves looked at him. Their eyes were flaming gold, bright and liquid.
It was hard to describe, his mind was trying to shut down at what he was witnessing. He could smell them now, like wet dog and blood and wild. Their eyes moved, scanning everything around them and missing nothing. The colors of their eyes shifted from iridescent gold to bloody crimson. Ethan’s heart lurched in his chest and he stepped backed when Zahara turned toward him and started coming at him, her body in a ready crouch. He thought perhaps she was going to rip him open for the threat he’d posed. Xander held out a massive paw and snarled and pulled her back. Zahara snarled and clacked her teeth, the saliva flying across the room. The saliva hit Ethan in the face but he dared not move. He watched as both creatures moved toward the door and Xander stepped onto the pad and the doors opened automatically. He snarled and slung his head this way and that and ducked, his arms nearly touching the ground.
When the hotel doors shut, Ethan let out a shaky breath, a trembling hand lifted and wiped at his face. His legs nearly buckled as he went to the windows and watched as the two werewolves moved toward the zombies. Zahara’s fur stood erect all over her body and she jumped first and landed in the middle of a group of nearly two dozen zombies. He could hear the screams of the zombies but also the snarling and clacking of Zahara’s teeth. Then he saw heads popping off and arms and legs being tossed. It was like some kind of hideous movie and blurred because Xander had joined her and Ethan watched as the massive werewolf began to bite the necks of the infected. Heads flew this way and that as Xander swiped his massive hand with the six-inch claws and whole arms just fell to the ground. They were like four legged shredders, anything coming into contact with them were torn to pieces.
It was as though the zombies were going through a wood chipper and pieces of them were flying. Black and red blood soused the ground around the pair. The screaming was unearthly and so loud that Ethan had to put his hands over his ears. His mind was overwhelmed by the madness he witnessed outside. He saw only teeth and claws slashing and still the zombies came. It was bright outside and there were no shadows to cover the creatures and they came. Dozens and dozens. Where had they come from? Could these things smell living humans? Or werewolves? He watched as Zahara bounced off cars, denting the roofs in, as she leapt around the parking lot. He wasn’t sure what she weighed but some of the cars were crushed badly. He watched as she soared over a group to land and turn, then ran into them, claws slashing away. He could actually hear skin and muscles tear and it was horrendous.
Ethan was used to death, it was his job, but this was some next level slaughter. The bloodlust was on a different level and Zahara and Xander were churning through and cutting down everything in sight. Had he gone out there, Ethan knew they would be on him and rip him to shreds. He could see that their eyes were blood red now, the glow was clear even from where he stood. It seemed as though Zahara was almost grinning, if that wide gaping toothy smile was any indication. She was happy, intoxicated by the slaughter, as though this were her true element. He shuddered, remembering when she laughed about him shooting her. No, a bullet wouldn’t kill her. A dozen bullets wouldn’t kill her. Only cutting off her head, decapitation and you’d damn near have to be right up on her to do that. Xander had nearly been killed in Africa, so he knew that in human form, they could be killed, but you’d damn well better make it one shot and to the head.
The screams were diminishing and Zahara felt almost sad. Blood ran from her mouth and she want
ed more. Feeling the flesh part when her claws raked through the creatures was nearly sexual. It felt so damned good to kill, to let go and to slaughter. The feel of parting flesh in her mouth as her teeth ripped and pulled. She didn’t even mind their stench. Her heart was beating and she watched as Xander was doing the same. He was magnificent and massive and powerful. He was an Alpha and she was an Alpha too. Two werewolves in concert and ripping through these puny creatures was the best thing she’d done in a long time. All she wanted to do was rip and shred. She wanted to lay in the entrails and roll and slide.
It was nearly silent now and she swung her massive head from side to side. There had to be more to kill, it couldn’t just end this quickly. Her mouth watered at the thought of more killing and then she saw him, Ethan. That fucker had wanted to kill her. She turned and began to creep closer to the building. She would rip him to pieces, but she would do it slow. She would bite him in the belly and yank out his guts. A large wolfy smile spread across her muzzle. Then Xander was in the way. She snarled up at him and he snarled back. He was all raised up, all bossy and shit. She tried to move past him but he lunged at her and bit her throat. She jerked back, surprised and snarled and yanked herself free. She crouched and her hands curled. She snarled again and he moved around her. Then he threw back his head and he howled long and low and it reverberated through her body.
She felt it move through her and it hit her womb and ovaries and it made her throw her head back and she howled as well. Bastard. He’d just made her submissive and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. Her animal obeyed and her wolf brain accepted his dominance and her own obedience. Bastard. She’d never had that happen to her but her wolf brain knew what it was. She might be an Alpha, but Xander was a bigger Alpha and he was a male. He howled again and her blood began to cool. The killing frenzy within began to calm and she began to feel her body shrink and relax. The red haze that had filled her head and her heart began to dissipate and she saw that Xander was shrinking before her, his body going back to human.
