by Chris Fox
“Hey Liz,” Trevor said, dropping into the room’s second chair. He spun it to face her, plopping his feet up on the corner of the desk. “Did Erik call?”
“Yeah, I just spoke with him,” she said, feeding the third slide into the CellScope. The second slide had been Blair’s blood. This one was another vial of hers, one she’d exposed to the moon for several hours last night. “He looked at the first sample. I’ve got the video if you want to review it.”
Trevor tapped the iPhone’s screen, swiping until he found the Photos app. He scrolled through the list until he found the video she’d sent Erik. Then he tapped it once. The strange blood cells filled the screen. He gave low whistle. “Ho-lee crap.”
Blair leaned over his shoulder, staring down at the phone’s screen. “This is good news, right? I mean, we were expecting our blood to be different, and now we know for sure that it is. It means that this isn’t some mystic mumbo jumbo. There’s a scientific explanation for what’s happened to us.”
“I guess so,” Liz replied, without any real enthusiasm. Processing all this was going to take some time.
“What else did Erik say?” Trevor asked once he’d finished watching the video.
“He pointed out that these are red blood cells. Since they carry oxygen, whatever that green stuff is must be tied to the same process,” she explained. Liz picked up the fourth sample. This was one of Blair’s that had also been exposed to the moonlight.
“That makes a certain amount of sense,” Trevor mused. Then his eyes lit up. “You said that the ancient werewolf guy said that this virus acted like chlorophyll, right? What if the green mutation conducts energy? That could explain how you use moonlight to change, or blur, or whatever else you can do. It’s your fuel in the same way plants utilize the sun.”
“I thought of that,” Liz said, proud that she’d thought of something science-related before her brother. “The first and second samples were taken directly from Blair and I, just regular blood. I left the third and fourth out under the moon for three hours last night. If I’m right the virus will be more advanced in those samples.”
“That’s brilliant,” Blair said, gawking at her like she’d grown a third eye. Did he really think that little of her abilities? She wasn’t sure whether to be offended or pleased with the compliment.
“Erik said he’d email us back with the results. Given how quickly he looked at the first one, I doubt it will take him very long,” she replied, crossing her arms and giving Blair a self-satisfied smile. He might have started this whole thing, but she’d done more than he had to help them understand what had happened. “Guess maybe all that woo-woo stuff you guys tease me for believing might not be so far-fetched after all.”
54
Silver Nitrate
Trevor maneuvered the eyedropper over the slide, carefully squeezing the black ball until a tiny drop of silver nitrate fell onto the blood sample. The liquid spread instantly, giving the entire slide an odd sheen. He set the dropper aside and then closed the slide, popping it into the tray near the top of the CellScope.
Erik’s findings had been incredible. He’d shown that the samples exposed to moonlight had more advanced instances of the virus, and he had theorized that the samples themselves probably contained some source of energy absorbed from the light. That had prompted Trevor to set up his experiment.
“Is it ready yet?” Liz asked, poking her head into the office. He’d made her and Blair wait in the kitchen until he was ready. Trevor didn’t often give presentations, but when he did, he admitted privately to being a bit of a showman.
“All right, all right. You two can come in,” he said, waving his sister forward. She came in, dropping into the chair next to him.
Blair trailed after, arms folded across his chest. He moved to lean against the wall by the door, sour and silent. He’d been that way since he’d watched a news report this morning. The attacks had spread across the southwest, and isolated incidents had made it all the way to Canada. Trevor got that Blair blamed himself for everything. It was understandable, since technically it was his fault. Not that anyone could have done any better had they been in his position.
“So what are we looking at?” Liz asked, nodding at the video Trevor had up on the computer.
“Erik sent me the results of his tests. According to him, the samples exposed to moonlight have a more advanced instance of the virus. The green striations are more vibrant, and larger. Erik thinks they may contain some sort of energy, which is what prompted me to set this up,” Trevor explained. He tapped the play button, which showed the same red donut-shaped blood cells but with larger green swathes coating most of them. “This is Blair’s sample, the one exposed to moonlight. Watch what happens after I add silver nitrate.”
Trevor brought up the CellScope website, logging in as Erik had shown him. He navigated to recent exams and brought up the video that had just loaded.
“My God,” Blair said, unfolding his arms and taking a step toward the computer. “The green is just gone. It looks completely normal. This happened after you added silver?”
“We’ve all heard legends of werewolves, and other than the moon, the most common theme is silver,” Trevor explained. He brought up a web browser that showed a Wikipedia entry on silver. “I saw a documentary on Nova a few years back. Silver was used by wealthy nobles as a blood purifier. It wasn’t just superstition. It actually removes toxins from the bloodstream. So I started to wonder. What if the energy in your blood can be leeched out with silver? That could explain why legends say it’s lethal to werewolves.”
“That’s good to know,” Liz said, though her tone revealed that she disagreed. “How does that help us? I mean, it’s good to know our limitations, but how does figuring out how to kill ourselves help?”
“Because it isn’t just about killing yourself,” Trevor shot back. He propped an elbow on the desk, staring smugly at his sister. “Polio can kill you, but if you dilute the dose enough, it becomes…”
“A vaccination…” Blair finished. He ran a hand through his hair. “Even if it doesn’t make us immune to silver, it could bleed the energy from our systems. If we start going berserk, we could just take a hit of silver nitrate.”
“Think about how much it could save me in home repairs,” Trevor said. Liz shot him a venomous glance.
She reached for the little brown bottle, examining it closely before looking up at him again. “So I’d need to get it directly into my bloodstream. That would mean an injection. Do you have a syringe?”
Trevor nodded.
“Then I want to give this a try. I’ll take five milligrams tonight, just before the moon comes up,” Liz said. Her tone was even and her back ramrod straight, but Trevor could see the fear hiding in her eyes. He said nothing. He was proud of her for facing it. He wasn’t certain he could do the same in her place.
“We need to talk about the attacks and how quickly they’re spreading,” Blair said. He’d moved back to his position against the wall near the door, as if leaving himself room to escape.
Trevor swiveled the chair to face him. The statement seemed to have cost Blair something, but his stance was resolved. Both he and Liz were clearly tired of running. They urgently needed to take a stand, to do something to combat their circumstances. He admired that about them, though he wasn’t sure what they could do outside of a futile gesture of defiance.
“Okay,” Liz said slowly. She set the bottle down and looked at Blair. “We know they’re spreading rapidly. Too rapidly to stop.”
“That’s right,” Blair said, heaving a sigh. “There’s nothing any military or government in the world is going to be able to do. This will keep spreading. Look how far it’s come in just the last month. In another couple it will surge across every continent. Werewolves will be everywhere, and the few survivors will be huddling indoors, trying to stay alive.”
“So what do we do about it?” Trevor asked. He was a part of this now, regardless of what he wanted.
&
nbsp; “I’ve given it a lot of thought. No more running. It’s time to wake the Mother,” Blair said, tone thick with resolve.
There was no hesitation. It was the most confident Trevor had seen him, and in that moment Trevor understood Liz’s attraction to the man.
Blair continued. “She’s the key to all of this. She can explain how and why she created this virus and what we’re here to fight. She may even be able to stop the spread somehow.”
“We’d still have to deal with Mohn,” Liz countered, shaking her head. Trevor privately agreed, though he didn’t voice his concern. It would be suicide. “Nothing about them has changed. If they’re using the pyramid as a base of operation, we’d need to fight our way in. How are we going to do that?”
“We come up with a plan. We’re werewolves. I can move faster than the human eye can track. You can melt into the shadows,” Blair replied, fists clenching. “Trevor has more guns than the friggin’ marines. We find Ahiga and learn everything he can teach us. Then we sneak into the pyramid and find a way to wake the Mother. I know it won’t be easy, but we have to try something. Trevor, where do you come down on this?”
“Mohn has a nasty reputation,” Trevor began, buying time to consider as he cleaned his glasses on his shirt. “They’ll have an array of trained personnel, state-of-the-art weaponry, and military precision. They’ll be entrenched and ready for any conventional assault. That said, I doubt they have any real idea what werewolves can do. If we go in quiet, we might have a chance. I’m willing to risk it. Liz?”
“I don’t like it, but I can’t offer any alternatives. Either we watch the world burn, or we do something stupid like send a doctor, a teacher, and an astronomer to fight heavily armed soldiers. It’s a bad choice, but I’m game if you two are,” she said.
“All right,” Blair replied, standing a bit straighter. “Now we just need to find a way to get there. Trevor, I’m assuming you’ll want to bring your weapons. That rules out conventional flights, even if Liz or I could get past airport security with Mohn watching for us.”
“I have a friend with a cargo plane,” Trevor offered. He didn’t like the idea, but it was probably the only option. “He flies down to Mexico to bring back shipments of marijuana. I can probably convince him to fly us. He owes me.”
55
This Is a .45
“This is a forty-five,” Trevor explained, picking up a heavy black pistol from the row of weapons on the table along the wall of the garage. He offered it grip first, and Blair accepted it. “Feel the weight. You never want to try firing that with just one hand. You won’t break your wrist or anything, but your accuracy will be shit.”
Heed him, Ka-Dun. These weapons are potent. Their use requires no energy. They are the perfect supplement to your abilities.
“How far away can my target be?” Blair asked, sighting down the barrel.
“For a beginner? I wouldn’t aim for anything further away than fifteen yards. This is a close-range weapon. If you want something with more range, there are a couple other options,” Trevor explained, picking up a rifle from the table. It had a polished wooden stock and a long black barrel. It was the bigger and nastier cousin to the sort of rifle he’d seen hunters use. “This is a .338. If you’re using the scope, you’ll probably be accurate up to about two hundred yards. Further, if you’re good. It’s got a hell of a kick though, so expect a bruised shoulder if you fire more than a shot or two.”
“How do you load it?” Blair asked.
Trevor slid back a bolt on the right side of the gun. “You slide your rounds in here. It can hold up to six. Bring the slide back to cycle to the next round. Here, sight at the target on the garage door there. That’s it. Rifles like this are great for hunting or even limited sniping. If you’ve got cover and can keep moving, they’ll let you take down an enemy without ever giving them a chance to hit back.”
Blair sighted down the scope at the target some thirty feet away. He could make out the grains of ink on the target. This thing would be great at range, though he had no idea how accurate he’d be when firing. His suite of werewolf powers didn’t seem to offer anything that might help.
“Honestly, I don’t think either weapon is really suited to you, though. You remember when Liz attacked me the other night?” Trevor asked, with an amused smile. What kind of man laughed at a life-threatening werewolf attack? The kind crazy enough to help them.
“Kind of tough to forget,” Blair replied sardonically. He handed back the rifle. Trevor accepted it and added it back to the line of weapons.
“I used this to defend myself,” Trevor said, picking up the shotgun at the end of the row. Like the rifle, it had a wooden stock, but the barrel was wider and there was no scope. “This is a Remington twelve-gauge shotgun, sometimes called a room sweeper. It’s a close-range weapon with a lot of stopping power. You can take a man off his feet with this, and all you have to do is aim in their general direction. The downside is accuracy. You’re good in a room this size, but if someone is much further away, you’re likely to miss. This rifle holds six rounds though, so at least you get more than one shot to correct your aim.”
He handed the shotgun to Blair, who planted the butt against his shoulder and aimed at the target again. “It’s much lighter than the .338. This is definitely the one that feels most natural so far.”
“If you had to get good with one rifle, this would be my recommendation. You can find ammo just about anywhere, and the learning curve isn’t very steep,” Trevor explained. He picked up a revolver from the table. “If you need something smaller, this is the pistol of choice. It’s a .357, the little brother to the gun Dirty Harry used. The ammo is also easy to find, and it’s very much point and shoot. It’s got a kick, but it’s manageable. It will core a man, though it won’t knock him from his feet. You’d want the forty-five for that.” He handed the pistol to Blair, who traded him back the shotgun.
“So what would you use if you had to pick?” Blair asked. Why did an astronomer need so many guns? Trevor was such a mass of contradictions.
“If I’m in close quarters, I want to knock an opponent down, so I’d use a forty-five. That gives me the time to line up a kill shot,” Trevor explained matter-of-factly, as if he’d already given this a lot of thought. “For a rifle, I’d keep the .338. It requires more skill than a shotgun, but it’s got much better range, and you can still use it up close if you’re good. There is a more powerful rifle, but I haven’t gotten it out. It’s a Barrett fifty-caliber sniper rifle. You can core a tank from over a mile, but the gun weighs almost forty pounds. It’s bulky and difficult to move and set up. Definitely not something I’d want to travel with, but if I was fighting a foe with superior firepower, that’s the gun I’d want. Of course, the rounds are five bucks a pop, so if they didn’t kill me, the bill probably would.”
The door leading to the house swung open, revealing Liz in a blue blouse and a tight pair of jeans. Blair had no idea when Trevor had found the time to fix the door. He’d cleaned up the plaster as well, though the ceiling still bore the scars of the werewolf attack.
“I’ve taken a dose of the silver nitrate. It made me feel queasy for a minute, but other than that I haven’t noticed anything,” Liz said as she entered the garage. Blair tried not to stare at the curves the blouse hinted at. “Have you heard back from your friend with the plane? The sooner we leave, the better. I just finished watching footage of a werewolf tearing up a theater in La Jolla. They’re talking about martial law.”
“Not yet,” Trevor replied, setting the shotgun back on the table and gesturing for Blair to hand him the .357. “He’ll get back to us by the tomorrow morning, I’m sure. I doubt he’ll have an issue with—“
Blair stopped listening. He heard something in the distance. An all-too-familiar whup-whup-whup that brought him back to Peru. “There’s a helicopter approaching.”
“I wouldn’t worry much about it. We’re pretty close to the flight path between downtown San Diego and Los Angele
s. Military helicopters go by all the time,” Trevor said, turning his attention back to the guns. “I’ve got a few more weapons to show you. Then we can get packed up.”
“Wait,” Blair said, straining to identify what he was hearing. “There’s more than one helicopter. Maybe three or four. They’re coming from different directions.”
“Should we lock ourselves in the gun safe?” Liz asked, gripping Blair’s arm.
“No, we’d be trapped. It’s the first place Mohn would look,” Trevor said. He ducked into the gun safe and emerged with a rifle easily as tall as he was. That must be the Barrett. It looked a lot like the .338 but was much larger and made of flat black metal. The barrel and stock were scored in dozens of places. This thing had been around the block. “I’m going to prepare a distraction. Blair, get our stuff into the Rover.”
“The Rover?” Blair asked, grabbing the shotgun. “Won’t they just gun us down if they have helicopters?”
“I didn’t say it was a good plan, but if we stay here, the ground team will wipe us out. If we’re lucky, I’ll get a couple shots off with the Barrett to give them something to think about. Liz, can you get out there and scout with that invisibility trick you do? We need to know what we’re dealing with,” Trevor said, strapping an empty holster to his right thigh and sliding the .45 home.
“All right,” Liz said, peering out the garage’s only window. “It’s dark out there now. I’ll see what I can find. If you guys make a break for it, I’ll link up with you.”
Blair grabbed several packed duffel bags near the garage door and started stuffing them into the back of the Rover.
“We’re relying on you, Liz. See if you can identify a leader. Then let us know as soon as possible,” Trevor instructed. The approaching helicopters were deafening.
