by Justin Sloan
The beast fell back, staggering. The man’s pistol clicked, the chamber back—out of bullets.
But that didn’t matter—they had the beast.
Or so she thought.
It suddenly lunged forward, taking the man by the neck and tossing him from side to side like a squeaky toy, while Sandra tried to get a clean shot.
After a few seconds of this, she realized it didn’t matter if she got a clean shot or not—if anything, it was now better to hit the guy and put him out of his suffering. So instead of staying there and taking any chances, she darted out of hiding and ran forward, unloading the magazine along the way. Bullets tore into man and werewolf alike.
When she stopped, the bullets spent, the man lay limp, his eyes staring up, lifeless. The wolf was shuddering. She might heal, but not if Sandra acted quickly.
She lifted the rifle to smash in the beast’s head and paused. Not a she, she realized as the wolf turned back to a man, his junk fully exposed.
“Where is she?” Sandra demanded. “Where’s Esmerelda?”
“Please…” he said, hands up in defense. But the look in his eyes wasn’t terror, it was humor. “Please look behind you.”
She couldn’t think of any lasts words that would put more terror into her heart right now, especially as she noted the two shadows moving.
Then the growl came.
Not even bothering to spin and look, she ran for the opposite wall where another doorway was, kicked in, and then threw it shut with all her weight against it as two werewolves slammed into it from the other side with a loud thud. It was the women’s bathroom. Good thing boys weren’t allowed, she thought to herself with a crazed chuckle.
Where the hell had those two come from?
Brain spinning, breaths coming in short bursts, she tried to find her calm as the door continued to thud. She clicked the door’s lock shut, but knew that wouldn’t keep them long. She pushed her back against the door, eyes darting for any way out of there, and then, just as she had spotted the side-door that must lead to another hallway, a whimper came from one of the stalls.
A young recruit to the force peered out of the stall, saw her, then closed the stall door with a slam.
“You’re on my side, yeah?” Sandra shouted to the woman over the thuds of the doors behind her.
“I’m damn sure not on theirs.” The woman’s voice cracked, but she peeked back out through the door. “What’s happening?”
“A coup, it’d seem.” Sandra shuddered as the door shook so bad she was sure it was about to fall from its hinges.
And then it was silent.
She waited, listening to distant gunshots and two explosions, then looked up to make eye contact with the woman.
Instead of talking, she motioned to the other door, and raised her eyebrows in a way that asked if she got it.
The woman nodded, then reached to her side and drew her pistol. Taking it in both hands, she moved for the other door, then waited.
Sandra breathed, counted to three, and then made her way over there. She slowly opened the door, the woman with the pistol at her side, and checked. Clear.
“You got a name?” Sandra whispered.
“Bertie,” she said, then gave Sandra a look as if she was going to say something about the name.
“Stick close,” Sandra said, then motioned to the empty chamber of the rifle. “I’m all out… oh, and name’s Sandra.”
Bertie nodded, forced a smile, and then followed Sandra out into the hallway. Once they were clear, they started running, and just in time, too—a moment later, an explosion sounded from behind, followed by the banging of what Sandra guessed was the bathroom door flying off its hinges. She glanced back to see smoke coming out from under the door they’d just come through, and then pulled Bertie out of the main hallway and through a doorway, just as the sound of that door being flung open sounded.
She spun, looking for a way out, and was flabbergasted to see that they were back in Colonel Donnoly’s office!
It wasn’t a large office, not compared to the one Valerie had occupied, anyway. But it was practical—a desk, some paintings, and a sword on the wall. Sandra smiled at that. Back in the days before New York, the sword had been her specialty. Specifically, this kind—a katana.
Yes, she got that others thought the large claymore type of sword was more practical, or even the rapiers and cutlasses the pirates used. But she thought that was only true if you lacked grace and style.
She pulled the sword from the wall, tested it with her eyes on the door they’d just come through, and then realized she was rubbing her belly subconsciously. Bertie was watching, curiously, and Sandra gave her a brief nod before saying, “Hide.”
The wolves were outside, sniffing and growling. There was no doubt they’d find them.
The only option was to stand their ground and be as ready as they could ever be.
From the other side of the door, the sounds grew louder, and Bertie made a scraping sound as she bumped into the desk, trying to hide behind it. Sandra cringed, sword at the ready, waiting for that door to come bursting forward any moment.
A gunshot.
Not from in here, but the hallway, then shouting and more shooting.
The two women shared a look, both amazed at their luck. Sandra ran to the door, pressed her ear against, it, and then said, “I’m going out there.”
“Are you insane?”
Sandra debated, then nodded. “You know, that might explain it. Yeah, I think I’m insane. Wanna join me, or…?”
Bertie just stared at her, mouth hanging open, then licked her lips. “Fuck it.”
“Fuck it?”
“Yeah,” Bertie smiled, held her pistol up at the ready, “Fuck it.”
Sandra smiled, and then threw open the door to see that, several soldiers were shooting from the elevators as the two werewolves made their way through the shots to the attack.
If she didn’t act, the bullets might not be enough to stop those werewolves. But if she ran into the fray, she might get shot. Unlike them, she didn’t heal. And she couldn’t risk that, for the baby’s sake.
“Distract them,” Sandra said.
“What?”
“Shoot them, get their attention back on us. Or, at least one of them. I have a plan.”
Bertie looked dubious, but she shrugged, held the pistol, and squeezed the trigger. The shot was loud and left a ringing in Sandra’s ears that she was going to regret, but for now, it had its effect.
The werewolf she’d hit spun on them, eyes curious, saliva dripping from its exposed teeth. The scent of gunpowder filled the hallway. The roaring of the werewolf was almost louder than the shots going off.
Sandra stepped back and said, “Move against the wall. Hit it again as soon as it enters the doorway.”
Bertie did as she was told, but when the werewolf came charging through, leaping and pushing off of the doorway, neither could have been prepared for its trajectory. That didn’t stop Sandra from acting, though. With a quick motion, she practiced the thrust she had perfected in France.
Straight forward, the blade slid through the werewolf’s neck. The momentum of the beast carried Sandra with it and then pulled the sword from her hands. When she recovered, she saw the werewolf on the floor, struggling to stand.
Bertie shot it once in the eye, and it shuddered with a spasm. Then Sandra ran up, grabbed the sword’s handle, and slammed her foot down on the back of the blade so that it sliced through the rest of the neck, doing a nice job of half-decapitating the werewolf.
The blade snapped in half as she pulled it free, but the jerk was dead.
Cheers rose out from the hallway, and a moment later two men appeared in the doorway, ready to shoot.
“Whoa, whoa!” Sandra said, dropping the sword. “Good guys here!”
It took her a moment to realize that one of them was Colonel Donnoly, the other Sergeant Davies.
“The wolf?” she asked.
“Thanks to you deal
ing with this one,” Davies said with a nod of approval, “we were able to focus our efforts and deal with it.”
“Esmerelda?”
Donnoly shook his head. “We haven’t found her. We don’t know how many of the Weres are part of this, so we’re rounding them up.”
“All of them?”
“You think we have a choice?” Davies asked. “The truth is we don’t know who she’s working with.”
“That’s wrong,” Sandra said. “You know it is, or you wouldn’t be looking at me like that right now.”
Donnoly took her in for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to think of the baby.”
“I also need to think of the city, or the baby won’t have a future,” she said. “In case you don’t remember, I just saved our asses.”
“We all just saved our asses,” he said. “While Esmeralda’s at large, you should be in safe-keeping. Davies, take her to Valerie’s old office and see that she has a guard.”
“To protect me or to protect you?” Sandra spat out.
“Is that a threat?”
She stepped toward him. “Diego’s a Were. He’s the father of my baby. That means you’re threatening to hold the father of my baby accountable for all this, to lock him up? If that’s true, then you bet your ass I’m threatening you.”
Donnoly glared, then said, “Davies, I gave an order.”
Sandra looked between him and Davies, then to Bertie, and said, “I know the way.”
She started walking, ignoring the fact that Davies was following, two men with him. It didn’t surprise her that Donnoly wouldn’t let Bertie be one of her guards. Bertie and Davies she could persuade to help her, she imagined. Not two strangers.
As the elevator doors closed behind them, Sandra noted the silence, how the shots and explosions had stopped.
But her mind was reeling with the thought of what was coming next. Esmerelda could attack again at any minute, and maybe had more Weres or regular fighters still on her side.
Even if she was out of the picture, the way Donnoly was talking only meant more infighting, more animosity. She’d have to make sure she was out of here as soon as possible, so that she could do her part.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Flying Across Canada
Valerie stood at the helm of the air ship, holding onto the railing and looking out at the blimps ahead of them. Her ship was keeping its distance, under the guidance of Martha, relying on Valerie and Robin’s eyesight to keep them on track. Since they could both see better than non-enhanced humans, they had figured this out as a way of following without being detected.
The only downside would be if the other blimps had vampires on board. There wasn’t any reason to suspect so, except for the fact that Kaine had been traveling with them.
Whether there were vampires aboard or not, the air ships hadn’t slowed or turned back to fire at Valerie’s ship. So far, so good.
Robin had chosen to retreat below deck rather than have to wear her assassin protective gear during the day time. That left Valerie with Martha and River, as the rest of the pirates were either sailing the ship or resting for their next shift.
The early sunrise hit canyons below, tall trees nearly scraping the base of the ship. Valerie hadn’t even known that trees could grow like that, or that so much green still existed in the world.
“Why don’t you go inside,” River said, coming out to join her. “We have their course, at least for a bit. “Get some rest.”
Valerie considered this. She definitely could use some shut-eye.
“Come on,” he said, “Robin’s already up anyway. She said she can keep watch from the control room.”
“And what would I do with myself as I lay there trying to sleep?” Valerie asked. “The thoughts of what’s happening back in New York, or to Robin’s family… I can’t imagine sleeping right now, no matter how badly I need it.”
She stood staring out at the blimps, watching the hills in the distance, and then nodded. “I’ll… take a break.”
While sleep was likely impossible at the moment, if Robin was up, she wanted to speak with her. Making her way to the control deck, Valerie glanced up at the morning sky, contemplating everything going on up there.
If she partnered with TH, went up to space with him, would she really join the legendary vampire, the Queen Bitch herself? That title still made her laugh. What nearly omnipotent leader went by a title like that? Must be one with a good sense of humor, that was for sure.
When that day came, she felt she would be ready for it. Something about the world… she was doing her best to change it, but wondered if she just didn’t really fit.
The door to the control room opened and Martha stepped out, rubbing her eyes. She smiled and nodded, then said, “I’m going below deck to rest. Giving the controls to Robin for a bit.”
“Robin?”
“It’s basically on autopilot, but she wanted to give it a go.”
Valerie nodded, impressed, and smiled at Martha as she walked off. Entering the control room, Valerie noted how this one was larger than the blimp Captain Bronson had taken them in. It had weapons lining the walls, guns and swords, and even an oversized pirate captain’s hat hanging from a wall hook.
“Not putting on the hat?” Valerie teased Robin, who she saw now at the control panel. The woman had a hand on the wheel, and turned back with a frown.
“These are the same jackasses who took my parents into slavery. I don’t think I’ll be dressing up like them any more than I have to.”
“Shit, sorry.” Valerie came over and stood next to Robin, looking out through the rosy window with her. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Robin nodded. “No, I know.” After a moment of silence, she added, “And I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just… this could be it. We might be damn close, and it feels surreal.”
“When it comes to it, I mean, just save them and get out of here, you know?”
Robin shook her head. “I don’t know. What do you mean?”
“You might blame all of those so-called pirates, for what happened.”
“Because they did it,” Robin said, voice growing harsh. “Of course I blame them.”
“Yes, but…” Valerie breathed deep, trying to think about how to say it. “Maybe focus on stopping it, you know? The revenge part of it can cloud your judgment, make you do things you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting. You’re not a murderer, I know you.”
“Would’ve been nice to tell that to the bastards who took me from my family and turned me into this monster that I am now.”
“You think you’re a monster?” Valerie felt her gut clench at that, as if she’d been punched.
Robin realized what she had implied there and said, “Oh, no, I don’t mean that you’re a monster. It’s just that…”
“Robin, you’re only a monster if you let them turn you into one. Save your family, save all the slaves. But don’t succumb to the darkness.”
Silence followed, then Robin muttered something about trying, but it didn’t sound very committed.
Valerie understood, to a degree. She had been obsessed with revenge after her brother nearly left her for dead. No matter how much she convinced herself that it was about justice back then, she now saw it for what it really was. It could easily have consumed her to the point of no return.
Luckily for her, she had friends around to keep her straight. Well, maybe not straight, exactly, but they acted as anchors in the storm, that was for sure.
Not knowing what to do here, Valerie reached out to put her hand on Robin’s, but Robin just moved hers, so that Valerie grabbed hold of the steering wheel. For a moment, she held it as if that had been on purpose, but then she let go and turned to leave.
“Val,” Robin said, voice full of excitement.
Valerie turned around, curious, and saw that Robin had both hands on the wheel, staring out the window intently.
“The
blimps,” Robin said, “they’ve begun their descent.”
Valerie went back to the window and squinted, smiling to see that, sure enough, it was beginning. All this other B.S. could be tossed aside for now, because it was go time.
“Martha went to rest,” Valerie said. “Think you could bring the ship down by yourself?”
Robin smiled, biting her lip. “I think I’ll give it a go.”
“Just… don’t kill us.”
With a laugh, Robin brought the air ship around to the right, circling first so that they gave the others enough room to land while still keeping their own ship out of sight.
“There,” Valerie said, pointing to some hills just north of them, where it was clear that there was a line of black shapes that must have been buildings. “We can land on the other side of those hills, unnoticed, and then make our way over undetected.”
“Roger that,” Robin said, and began to steer the ship in that direction. She seemed almost giddy, as if all of their discussions had been forgotten, as if she were about to go to relax along the beaches of France, not storm into a pirate stronghold to set a bunch of slaves free.
And that attitude worried Valerie more than if Robin had been frowning or crying.
“What’s going on?” River asked when he came back in. Soon, several of the others had joined them, including Martha.
Valerie explained, and Martha sat back with her arms folded, watching Robin.
“You’re letting her land the ship?” River asked. “You never let me!”
“She’s a grown woman,” Martha said. “And I’m curious.” She glanced over at him and smiled. “She does well, I’ll let you do the next one.”
He leapt forward to Robin’s side and started telling her about different buttons that slowed the airflow and made turns sharper, suddenly eager to ensure she succeeded, and Robin was loving it.
“What exactly are we getting ourselves into here?” Valerie asked Martha, while the others were distracted.
“Far as I know,” Martha replied, “this’ll be one of several outposts. There’s no telling if her family will be here, but I can guarantee it’ll be one of the larger outposts.”
