Lycan Fallout 1: Rise Of The Werewolf

by Mark Tufo

CHAPTER 20 – Azile’s Story

  Nearing the end of the zombie invasion

  It was raining the night Azile walked away from the Talbot clan and the safety they afforded.

  “What are you doing?” BT asked. He had drawn the short straw that night and pulled the first shift for guard duty. Winter was coming, he could see his breath as he spoke and the rain had a hardness to it that alluded to a near freezing condition.

  “My shift is next so I thought I’d start early,” Azile replied.

  BT looked at her. “Do I look like I just figured out how to put big boy pants on? It’s freezing out here. And I swear Talbot cheated when we pulled cards out of the deck.”

  “If I remember correctly, he pulled a five. You were the one who pulled the two.” She realized she had just given herself away.

  “That’s right…you had a jack. What are you doing out here, Azile?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I traded?”

  “No,” he told her flatly.

  “Then you’re going to hate this more.”

  “What?”

  Azile muttered a few words. BT saw a small flash, and for long moments, he found himself unable to move. Azile had walked past him and down the ladder. She took one long look back at the house before she ran off into the night.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Mike asked, coming outside a few moments later to a stock still BT.

  It seemed to be the spoken word that broke the spell.

  “Shit,” BT said. “Azile.”

  “What about her?” Mike asked.

  “Put a spell on me and left.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, Mike, I let ice crystals grow on my eyebrows and eyelids as some funtastical joke for when you came out.”

  “Well I appreciate the effort, but it’s not really that funny,” Mike told him.

  “The girl split, Mike.”

  “Why? Makes no sense. We’re relatively safe here and we’ve seen less and less zombies.”

  “No clue. Should we go after her?” BT asked.

  “How big a head start does she have on us?” Mike asked.

  “Not entirely sure, but I think I lost about fifteen minutes.”

  “What would have happened if I hadn’t come out?” Mike asked.

  BT shrugged his shoulders. “It was like I was sleeping.”

  “I could have had the world’s largest Fudgsicle if you froze,” Mike said with a distant look.

  “Politically correct to the end, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I doubt you’d taste as good as that sounds. It’s really just an ‘in theory’ thing,” Mike added with air-quotes.

  “I’ll shove them fucking air quotes...”

  “Hey, man, try to remember I just saved your ass. How about a little show of appreciation? I think that puts me up by two.”

  “Are you kidding me? You don’t get a point just for coming on duty.”

  “Mull it over,” Mike told him. “I’m getting a flashlight.” Henry walked outside as soon as Mike opened the patio door. “I wish you were a bloodhound.” Mike grabbed the dog’s massive head, gently shaking it from side to side as he pet him.

  BT, with no small amount of effort and pain, got down to be on level with the dog. “Good to see you, Henry.” Henry’s stub of a tail wagged as he gave the big man a slobbering kiss. “Want me to come with you?” BT asked, grabbing the handrail to pull himself back up.

  Mike looked him over. “Naw, man, I can tell the cold is getting to your leg, get whoever has the shift after mine up. I think it’s Mad Jack. Tell him what’s going on and make sure the crazy bastard doesn’t shoot us when we come back. In fact, give him his Airsoft gun I’d feel much better for it.”

  “Why’d she leave, Mike?” BT asked before he walked back into the house.

  “I don’t know, man, but I hope to be able to ask her.” Mike secured his gloves. “See you in a bit.”

  “Don’t get into any messes without me. Good luck.” BT said. And with those words, Mike left, getting swallowed up in the darkness.

  Mike kept the flashlight off. Azile had left on her own accord, which meant she didn’t want to be found, and if he had the light on she would move away from it.

  “What are you doing, Azile?” Mike had asked so softly and intimately, she thought he had been talking to her.

  It was almost over before it had begun. She had been a heartbeat away from responding, thinking he had spotted her. When he moved to her left, she realized he had been talking to himself. She waited until he was far enough away before she moved. This time she would remember just how fast he was. She had barely been able to duck and cover before he was upon her.

  “This is for the best,” she told his retreating back softly.

  Mike went back to the house at first light empty-handed and empty-hearted.

  “Nothing?” Tracy asked with concern.

  “Not a trace,” Mike told her.

  “What now?” BT asked.

  “Well, I’d like to take a couple of people to go out and look for her.”

  For over a week, Mike, Justin, Travis – all of them at various points – walked out looking for something. Ever further westward with no luck. It was an impossibility he would ever chance upon her, Azile had headed east towards the ocean. She had walked south down the coast almost to New York before she found what she was looking for; a ship heading away from the devastation. It was rumored that England had come through the zombie apocalypse relatively unscathed due to its isolation.

  Nothing could have been further form the truth. London had burned to the ground. The lack of firearms in the country had proved their downfall. Years later, militias would come with the express purpose of flushing out the zombie stasis hiding spots, burning what little remained. Of the forty people on the ship, only Azile and a man named Grant Perry had disembarked in a town near Liverpool. He had family in Manchester and had been trying desperately to get back home since the beginning.

  “Wiltshire?” he asked again when they set foot on dry land. “That’s clear across the country. Come with me to Manchester.”

  She politely declined; and not for the first time. Azile was convinced Grant had wanted her company more to bolster his courage than for her protection. She had no real reason why she felt a pull to a place she’d never been, but the name had screamed into her head as she lay in bed at Ron’s house.

  “You know this isn’t really the best time for tourists,” he told her, referring to her telling him she needed to go to Stonehenge.

  “Good luck, Grant.” She shook his hand.

  She had never seen him again. She had checked on the address he had given her, but that was more than fifteen years later, and if he had ever found his way back there, he had not left a forwarding address. The decomposed bodies in the foyer did not, however, leave much doubt he had not found what he was looking for.

  It was four nights later when Azile had found herself in the middle of the famed structure. She felt like she had finally found what she was searching for.

  “I’m here,” she said with no small measure of excitement.

  Three people dressed in long, flowing brown robes appeared almost as if summoned. “We’ve been waiting for you,” the tallest of the trio told her.

  He pulled back the oversized hood he had been wearing. He had a scar that started from below his right eye, curved down the side of his neck, and was then lost in the collar of his garment. He was severe looking, but his words and countenance were anything but.

  “My name is Triplos, this is Cerin (the woman nodded), and my silent friend over there is Lanner. We are the order of Druids.”

  “Home,” Azile said.

  “Come,” he said, taking her hand.

  Her tutelage was difficult and painful, but she had unlocked many secrets during her time with them. When she felt she surpassed her teachers is when she finally struck out for home. She had foreseen the winds
of war and the ultimate outcome if something was not done. Xavier’s lust was without bounds; he knew of the lands beyond the ocean, and when he was done on one shore he would keep moving, striving to create the largest and most ruthless reign the world had ever seen.