World Wonders

by James Perrone

  A crunching sound broke us all out of our reverie. Walking into the clearing was a man and a woman dressed in leathers and with their muscles clearly showing. My thoughts jumped around for a moment before connecting them to where I had seen them before. Ipsen’s bodyguards.

  “Fuck,” I mentally cursed.

  The woman smiled toothily, seemingly in response to what I had thought. Or more likely, what was on my face. “Oh, don’t stop,” she said mockingly, “We want to know where he is too.”

  Quietly, I started reaching for my gun, chewing myself out as I went. Of course, the meeting with Ipsen had been too easy. He was planning on playing us for the location of the killer so he could get vengeance himself.

  McCoy’s gun was already in her hand, as if by magic. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a Federal Investigation.”

  The man smirked, showing his elongating teeth, “Like we care.”

  Chapter 11

  Werewolves

  Tactically speaking, we were fucked. Even outside of the full moon, werewolves were faster, stronger, and meaner than humans. The fact these werewolves were shifting right now, in the middle of the day so close to the new moon, meant that the bouncer twins were either particularly powerful werewolves too.[65] Presented with a bad situation, McCoy did the right, proper, and sane thing.

  She shot them.

  Two bullets, center of mass, for each werewolf. Say what you will about McCoy, you can’t deny she’s wonderfully pragmatic.

  It wouldn’t stop them, in any shape way or form[66], but it would slow them down while they regenerated, draw attention to the situation which would mean possible help, and buy us time to run. The man folded over from the double tap in the stomach, but the woman started moving towards us undaunted.

  Extra fucked then.

  McCoy continued to fire into the woman, but I lowered my peashooter. Bullets clearly weren’t doing us much good, so it was time to cheat.

  My parents insisted that my sister and I take martial arts from a young age. I had replaced most of that knowledge with US Army Combatives, but one of the things I had retained was that the ankle is not particularly sturdy. From soccer players to figure skaters to horses, the ankle was disturbingly easy to dislocate. And hurting your ankle? It was often as simple as your foot being slightly out of alignment with the rest of your body as you stepped. Such a vital joint, undone by nothing more than your full body weight. Twisting your ankle like that could knock someone out for days.

  I could apply a force roughly 10 times greater than a human falling. With my brain.

  It took me a moment to focus my full strength into a tight fist, wait for an opportune moment, and then drive into the female bouncer’s ankle. My focus and patience was rewarded with the distinct cracking sound of bone snapping and the werewolf shifting from confident to surprised as my telekinetic ball peen hammer hit her right ankle just as she lifted her left foot to step. Her howl of pain covered the thud as she hit the ground hard.

  That would buy us some time.

  But every second mattered when dealing with werewolves, so we needed to stretch the advantage. With fear of the werewolf closing on us, McCoy and I raised our guns and emptied our magazines into the crippled werewolves. By the time I clicked dry, McCoy had already started running and I wasn’t far behind her.

  Keitner, showing remarkable self-preservation instincts, had already taken off. Even more impressively, he was moving away from the mass of civilians and through the twisting confines of the tents, heading away from the park. All the twists and turns would mean that the werewolves speed advantage would be minimized due to the inability to accelerate or keep a speed. Also, we wouldn’t have to worry about errant claws finding small children.

  “We need to get to the parking lot!” I yelled at him. He nodded, and started changing directions, easily bounding over the tent ropes and poles with his long strides. McCoy and I struggled a bit more due to not being giants, but started following along, struggling through the tent corridors. McCoy was only three inches shorter than me, but she was far more nimble meaning that she could duck under most of the supporting wires without bending over much. I, on the other hand, had to either fully stoop and duck under most of the wires or weave around to where the ropes were mounted in order to maintain pace, letting her pull ahead.

  I was cursing my height when I heard it. A piercing noise that caused me to stutter in involuntary panic and made the hairs on my neck stand up. A hunting howl. Louder than the wolves, and with a menace that wormed right into my brain. My stutter turned into a stop as a shudder rippled through my body. The Neanderthal part of my brain knew that howl was for me and was panicking.

  But panic would only get me killed.

  Cursing, I kicked myself back into motion, noticing that McCoy and Keitner had also stopped. I moved my tactical assessment from ‘extra fucked’ to whatever was on the spectrum below that. That howl meant the bouncers were both fully regenerated and shifted. Bouncing back from fifteen rounds, even lead ones, in that time frame was beyond anything I had ever seen before or even read about before. I caught McCoy looking over her shoulder, her grimace revealing she had made the same conclusions as I had. The contained terror on her face nearly made me freeze again, but I pushed that aside and started thinking action plans. McCoy reached into her belt and pulled out a spare magazine to reload. I pulled out my phone.[67]

  The phone rang once before it connected. “This is Slate.”

  I took a deep breath as my very little combat training took over. McCoy and I were probably dead, but at the very least we could pass our information on to someone who could use it to get the job done and avenge us if this indeed went sideways.

  “Deputies in danger at the Racine County Fairgrounds. Have custody of an informant who can point us towards our man-eater. Informant name is Charles Keitner, suspect name is Curtis Voigt. Keitner has implied that circus owners complicit in the murders. Currently pursued by two werewolves attached to the Rockford pack who want to find Voigt themselves. They are transformed and have demonstrated rapid regeneration, shrugging off fifteen bullets in under one minute. You are first contact. Please advise.”

  I ducked another low hanging wire, short hopped a stake, and used my telekinesis to lash the phone to my ear while I exchanged my spent magazine for a fresh one while Slate took the eternity of two seconds to respond.

  “Weapons and powers free,” he eventually commanded, “I’ll get support there as quickly as possible. Do what it takes to survive until then.”

  “Affirmative.”

  There was a click as Slate hung up the line, looking to get that support rolling as fast as possible. As much as the man terrified me, I was always appreciative of how he handled a crisis. No superfluous orders to be wary of collateral damage or discussions of the impracticality of response times. The sharp efficiency warmed my probably doomed heart. Procedure followed, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and barreled around a corner leading into a clearing. Keitner was already there, making a break for the wire fence that separated the tent city from the parking lot, with McCoy not far behind. Thankfully, this meant I was able to see the werewolf bounding up on her and yelled out before she was blindsided, “Behind!”

  McCoy turned, assumed a firing stance, and started putting bullets into its head. Lead found purchase, opening a few cuts and bleeding the wolf, but not slowing it down in the least. That wasn’t to say they were useless. Blood in the eyes would quickly inhibit the werewolf’s vision. Grasping her intent, I skidded to a stop and pulled my telekinesis to the ready.

  True to intent, the werewolf’s leap was wild and likely blind, aiming for where it thought McCoy was. McCoy rolled the moment the leap began, down and towards the fence, as far away from those extended claws as she could manage. My telekinetic limbs reached out and gave the airborne werewolf a hard push up and over, increasing the claws clearance from McCoy.[68] As an extra benefit, the push caused the werewolf to tumble
as if McCoy had done a sacrifice throw.

  The guttural growls turned into an almost comical yip of confusion as the werewolf spun into the wire fence face first. Once again, seconds mattered. I took a deep breath and the extra second to crumple the fence into a makeshift net around the werewolf while conveniently tearing a hole for McCoy and Keitner to get through, hopefully gaining us more than I spent.[69] I wheezed like I had just run a 100 yard sprint, heaving for air. Telekinesis was a muscle I just didn’t exercise that much.

  “MOVE IT TENNANT!” McCoy yelled at me from the fence before turning and running. Ungrateful much? Wheezing, I pushed myself forward into a jog looking to catch up. Thankfully, the parking lot had long corridors that I could open my stride in, letting the longer pace compensate for my windedness.

  A few moments later, just as I was catching up to a tired looking McCoy, the werewolves howled again. I didn’t stop this time, but I did take a moment to focus on them and consider where the howls were coming from. One was from behind us, probably the one I wrapped in the fence. Howl like that meant it was probably free. The other sounded like it was somewhere to our right. “They’re trying to flank us,” I yelled to McCoy, unable to do anything else.

  “No shit!” she turned to yell at me, jumping slightly when she noticed me right behind her. I didn’t comment and just handed McCoy the keys, “Shotgun on the far right is the wolf gun. Take it, you’re the better shot.” She didn’t even argue, lengthening her stride to take the lead in front of me and Keitner, leading the way. Keitner, looking slightly nervous but determined, let her pass and started following her to the SUV. I took the rear, looking around as I ran out of habit and mild paranoia.

  There were civilians in the parking lot, but most of them had cowered in their cars. The people in the park apparently had seen the furry monstrosities making their way out here and stayed far away until the werewolves were gone. Little miracles. Downside was there was shit for visibility and maneuverability was very limited outside of the defined corridors. Getting caught in here would be less than ideal. I was trying to figure out what to do about that when I felt a mountain hit me on my left side.

  I went flying and bounced off the edge of a particularly sturdy feeling car, pain cascading through my still knotted and tender back. I cursed myself for letting adrenaline tunnel vision me enough that I could be blindsided.

  That turned out to be a poor use of my time as the werewolf buried its claws into my gut and gave me all sorts of new things to complain about. I fumbled for the gun and managed to get a shot off before it sliced my arm and my fingers stopped responding. The gun hit the ground next to me, within easy grabbing distance.

  So close, but so useless.

  While I could feel my tendons starting to regrow, there was no way I would be able to grip that gun before I was dead. I didn’t heal that fast.

  Desperately, I gritted my teeth and tried my damnedest to focus through the pain, looking for any little bit of fight I could muster. I kicked with my feet but found nothing meaningful, so the werewolf ignored it. Pain made bringing my telekinesis to bear nearly impossible, but I tried anyway. It would be weak but would be something. I envisioned a telekinetic fist balling beside the werewolf’s head, solidifying enough to strike.

  Unfortunately, the werewolf claws breached my abdominal wall, causing my innards to start oozing towards my outards, shattering what little concentration I had and shattering my telekinetic limbs. Refusing to give up and just die, I started again.

  I didn’t get far when there was a sudden thunk and the werewolf went flying off me before cratering into a nearby car. Vision blurring, I cast a glance around.

  Keitner stood next to me, 4x4 post gripped like a baseball bat. Taking my breather, I finished my desperate struggle and formed two telekinetic arms. They were wobbly and wouldn't last long, but they were stable enough for now. The two of them slapped onto a nearby SUV. With a lurch, it slid forward and slammed into the werewolf, pinning it between the cars.

  I snorted in satisfaction as the telekinetic limbs faded away. Job done, I could feel the shock setting in as I tried, and failed, to stand up. Keitner grabbed my arm with one of his enormous hands and hoisted me to my feet. Then, with surprising grace, he then tucked his arm under mine and started staggering us towards our car. We were moving way too slow and I nearly fell over the struggle between gravity and my natural regeneration caused as my intestines to bounce like a yo-yo. I groaned and put hands to my stomach, looking to hold them in place long enough for the regeneration to do its job. It hurt and caused my knees to buckle, but Keitner held me up.[70]

  Fortunately, in all the worst ways, that pause gave me enough time to hear the other werewolf coming. Cursing my bad luck, and using the fading clarity of adrenaline, I fell to a knee and turned. Keitner, not in the know, went to pick me up, but I waved him off. “Get out of here, I’ll hold them off.” He hesitated, confused and palmed his fence post.

  “Go!” I screamed pointing at the approaching werewolf. They were leaping across cars to faster, “Get out of here! We need you to find Voigt!”

  He hesitated for another second before nodding solemnly and started lopping off towards the SUV. The werewolf altered course to chase after him, and I cursed again. Fucking intelligent werewolves screwing up your distraction ploys. Quickly, I calculated and realized there was no way Keitner was going to make it to safety before the werewolf got to him. Worse, McCoy was nowhere to be seen.

  Grimacing, I took my hands off my reforming intestinal wall. I immediately regretted the decision, but I was committed. Using my hands to direct my waning focus, I imagined a wall between the werewolf and Keitner. I focused in and slowly my imagination became reality in the form of an invisible barrier of solid will sectioning the werewolf away from Keitner. As the werewolf approached the empty air, I braced and watched the werewolf slam into my manifestation at full speed. The wall, and I as a result, shuddered but held strong.

  The werewolf then staggered to its feet and pawed at the void for a few seconds. I felt the pressure as the claws dug into my external will and nearly collapsed from the effort of holding the wall in place. Blood flowed from my mouth, but I managed to keep my focus. I would’ve whooped but was too busy trying to keep the barrier up.

  Besides, that would’ve just ended with me coughing blood.

  The werewolf started looking around for the source, and eventually, spotted me. Recognition crossed its lupine features and it started stalking towards me. It seemed slow, but with that much adrenaline in your system, time gets all kinds of wonky.

  I let the wall drop and loaded my brain one for final swing before the werewolf dismembered me. I’d go for the toss again, best chance I had to stagger away and most likely method to incapacitate it, all I had to do was wait for the right….

  *BANG!*

  Fighting the impulse to turn, my vision blurred but I could make out the werewolf staggering sideways. Another shot rang out and the werewolf staggered again. The immediate threat handled, I let myself look around and found McCoy, shotgun shouldered and working the pump action in slow motion like a B action movie protagonist. Two more shots rang out, and I saw the werewolf start to go blurry at the edges. Fucker was trying to fade out and run.[71]

  McCoy, however, was having none of that, and put the next shot in its head, which snapped it back to this world. I wanted to cheer, but I had just started floating off the ground. I turned to see Keitner picking me up.

  “I thought I told you to run.” I said. His face crossed into confusion. I apparently was slurring my words. I tried again, but my jaw wouldn’t work right. Instead my tongue just lolled to the side. I resigned myself to being a rag doll. After a few seconds, he placed me as delicately as he could in the back seat and folded himself into the passenger seat. I blinked, and then McCoy was in the driver’s seat looking back at me. She looked nearly angelic with sunlight behind her, but her face was too worry stricken for that. She spoke in a genuinely concerned tone, and I nearl
y passed out in surprise there. “Christ, Tennant,” she murmured, “you look like ground beef.”

  I smiled weakly and tried for a quip but failed.

  She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it Tennant. Just sleep.” I felt the press of her mental command upon me and since that was kind of my plan already, saw no reason to argue.

  I was out cold before she even turned the engine over.

  Chapter 12

  Hospitals

  I came back to consciousness in a hospital bed with the dull glow of fluorescent lights pounding into my brain.[72]

  “Fuck,” I said in a voice far hoarser than I expected.

  “You’re telling me,” said a voice in the corner.

  I turned as best as I could but got snapped back by something holding my wrist in place. I fell back onto my back and the faint metal clink told me what was going on. I was handcuffed to the bed.

  Miles appeared in my vision, armed and looking vaguely dangerous. “You were clawed,” he said by way of explanation. I nodded solemnly in understanding. Didn’t need another Providence[73] on our hands. I’d be held here until I was cleared of werewolfism.

  “How long have I been out for?” I asked, stifling a cough.

  He checked his watch before answering. “Around nine hours,” he stated with a shrug, “I came in at 1700 and relieved Danvers. Danvers had been here since you got in around 1300.”

  I sank back into the bed, anxiously waiting. Nine hours meant that the test results were going to come in any minute, unless they were horribly backed up. My throat scratched again, and I coughed. “Any chance of water?” I asked finally piecing together why I was so sore and hoarse.

  He nodded and grabbed a glass and straw that had been set by the bed, probably for this very instance. “They tried to get you on a saline nutrient drip when they found out you were a regenerator.[74] Didn’t stick in your body long enough to really give you anything. After the second stick didn’t hold, they just gave up.”