“I believe you have met my savages before,” Bernard shouted. “So long, Christine.” He limped away along the line of overhead doors.
36
A SHEEP AMONG WOLVES
BERNARD’S leg throbbed unbearably, but he smiled in the knowledge that Christine was in the fight of her life with his savages. She may have brought down his company, but she was going to pay for it.
Though mostly docile, the wandering wergs in the corral gave Bernard pause. What if they somehow remembered him and what he had done to them? Even one of them not fully trained could be fatal. But he had no other way to freedom. Going back meant going toward the approaching sirens as well as getting past his own savages. Plus, he had no idea where The First might still be hiding. No, he preferred to take his chances with the pet wergs rather than the hunters.
With tense and nervous muscles, he eased over the fence and into the opened corral area. His first step brought two curious wergs sniffing the ground and his feet.
“Eaaasy, boys,” he whispered.
They sniffed up his legs, across his chest, and back down again. He didn’t move. Satisfied with what they smelled, the wergs continued on. Bernard sighed with relief, and kept walking. The early morning sun and the slow, painful journey from the corral into the wooded area of the property gave him his first opportunity to get a good look at the gaping hole in his thigh. Though the bleeding had subsided, his leg was badly damaged. He grew nauseous at the sight of it. The trees swayed. The ground felt like it moved beneath his feet, and he realized it was he who wobbled. He leaned against a tree and dry-heaved.
With another deep breath, he forced his mind from his devastated thigh to his pending escape, and gathered himself enough to press on, step by cautious step. He didn’t need the fresh yelps and whimpers of the wergs who had ventured into the woods to remember how many traps had been set to catch them if they ever tried to escape.
His leg burned with pain, but he continued up the incline that led to the edge of his property and a back road to freedom. Though the adrenaline of his escape pushed him, the pain and exhaustion from his efforts and damaged leg forced him to take a break leaning against another tree.
He fumbled with his cell phone on the belt clip at his hip. With a shaking finger, he pressed and held the number four.
“Where you at, boss?” his driver answered.
“I’m in the woods. Where are you?”
“I’m just coming back to the compound. Boss, you know the building is on fire? There are cops and firemen coming from every direct—”
“Shut up for a minute. I know. I set the fire. Can you get to the perimeter fence at the top of the hill?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can get there.”
“How quick can you make it?”
“A couple of minutes.”
“Find me. I’ll either be at gate C or D, I don’t know which.”
“Alright, boss. I’ll be—”
Bernard pressed “end” and shoved his phone back onto his belt clip. He pushed himself from the tree and continued his climb.
37
BETTER ODDS
CHRISTINE braced herself for the attacking savages. The closest savage slammed against her. She shifted her weight and hurled him the wooden corral fence, smashing a gap between two posts. The other savage slammed against her back, knocking her breath from her lungs.
She spun in his grip as they hit the ground together. His throat flashed past her eyes and she grabbed for it. Blood sprayed across her face. He recoiled from her with gurgling wheezes.
The other savage leaped from the broken corral fence. Christine jumped to her feet and faced him. The wounded savage tackled her from behind.
He ripped at the flesh of her back with his teeth. She twisted and bit at his bleeding neck, but he pulled out of reach. The other savage pounced and lunged at her throat. She grabbed his snout, holding him at bay, but the two of them together were too strong, too ferocious. She thrashed beneath them, her skin tearing away at their claws. She ignored the pain, concentrating instead on keeping their teeth from her jugulars.
They ripped the flesh of her belly open and she feared they had gutted her. She released the savage’s snout to hold in her guts with her hand. The savage at her side took the opening and lunged for her throat again. She winced in anticipation of the pain that was coming.
But the pain didn’t come. Instead the beast’s teeth snapped closed inches from her neck as he was tackled from the side by another werg. The savage on her chest paused in confusion. Christine used his hesitation to knock him off balance and push him from her chest. She scurried away as the savage joined the new fight.
The three wergs ripped at each other in a violent explosion of teeth and claws. Though outnumbered, the newcomer fought with vicious intent. All three of them howled and screeched in ear-piercing din. The savage Christine had injured fell dead to the ground with his throat a gaping mess.
Christine caught a glimpse of her savior and the silver tint of his fur.
It was her friend.
It was Billy.
With one savage dead on the ground and the odds shifting in her and Billy’s favor, the other savage backed away from the fight and then fled through the broken corral fence.
Instead of giving chase, Christine turned back to Billy. He stood watching her, panting, bleeding, and waiting. She held her wounded stomach with one hand and grabbed his bloody hand with the other. She pulled him toward the forest where Bernard had fled, but he pulled back.
She tugged at his hand again, but he didn’t budge. He lowered his head, showing her the back of his neck and a scabby lump protruding from beneath his fur. She grunted, the constant battle against the fuzz in her mind preventing her from thinking clearly.
He swiped his own claw at the mass and then nudged his head against her hand. She grunted again. What did he want? What was wrong with his neck? She tried to remember Aiden’s story and what he had told her about the wergs, but she struggled just to remember his face, let alone his words. She closed her eyes, hiding the black and white and greenish world so she could better concentrate. She heard his voice in her memories, though it seemed to be coming from miles away through the static filling her thoughts. “Bernard,” his voice echoed. “Rufus.”
Billy nudged her again, almost knocking her off balance. She ignored him, trying to focus her thoughts.
A vaguely familiar blonde surfaced in her memories. It was a bright, sunny day and Christine was driving the medic truck around the park. Billy was with her. The blonde’s pet wergs had just dented the driver’s side and Billy was hitting on her, like always. What did she say? Damnit, what did she say?
Something about their necks. Yes. That’s it. Something about the back of their necks. Concentrate, Christine. Push the fuzz away. “Just don’t pet the back of their necks.” she had said. “They’re sensitive there.”
Then Aiden’s voice returned in her mind. “The chip in Rufus’ neck didn’t keep him tamed. The chip in Rufus’ neck kept him from transforming into a human.”
She opened her eyes. Billy waited, head below her waist, still offering the back of his neck.
She shook her head. The thought of what he wanted her to do was sickening. He nudged against her claw again. She had to do it for him, she had no choice. It was what he wanted. She hesitantly leaned toward his neck and then pulled back. She turned away, but he moved with her, staying in front of her. She closed her eyes again. No, Billy. I can’t.
He whimpered.
I’m so sorry. She took a deep, resigned breath and opened her eyes. He waited patiently, neck exposed.
She leaned in again, hating the pain she was about to cause him. He didn’t move. She tore into his flesh with her claw as he howled in pain. Despite the torture, he didn’t struggle or pull away. His yelps made her heart ache, but she didn’t waver in her bloody search. She dug until she found the foreign mass. With one final tear of his flesh, she ripped it free from his neck.
He recoiled and co
llapsed to his side. She dropped the bloody chip and backed away, sickened by the agony she had caused him. He jerked his head side-to-side, trying to shake away the pain. She wanted to cry.
Resilient, he clawed at the ground and pulled himself to all fours. He violently shook his head again before gazing at her with his head tilted as if nothing had happened. Blood dripped from his fresh wound, but he didn’t acknowledge it.
Christine went to him and caressed his cheek with the back of her elongated finger. He pressed against her touch with a snort. As she rubbed his cheek, the fur fell away from her skin. Her snout sucked into her face. The color returned to the world.
The static faded from her mind. She stared at Billy. “Come on, Billy. Change back.” She prayed he would take her lead and return to the man she knew.
But he didn’t. Maybe the old Billy had been gone for too long. She looked into his eyes, searching for some spark of humanity, but they were empty, soulless, like those of a wild animal. She knew something in him recognized her, maybe her scent more than her face. Any hint of the Billy she had known seemed buried too deep. She shed a tear as she promised to help him in some way.
He stared with the same sad eyes that her Doberman pinscher had watched her with each morning as she left for school, and it made her heart cry harder.
Billy held his ears tight against his head. She continued rubbing his cheek. “Billy, damn it. Why did this have to happen to you?”
He licked her hand.
She looked past him to the distant tree line and then toward the stables. She was cold and naked. “Wait for me, Billy,” she said, not knowing whether he understood her or not. She had to trust that he did. With her wounded stomach still stinging as it healed, she staggered back to the broken fence of the corral, climbed through the gap, and went into the stables.
She sought out one of the empty cages, found an old, dirty wool blanket in the dirt, and wrapped it around her chest and waist. When she returned, she was happy to find that Billy had waited.
He grunted and leaned his head toward her like he wanted to be petted. Before she could touch him, he turned away, perked his ears and sniffed the air.
“Billy, wait,” she said. “We have to find Aiden.”
Billy dropped to all fours. She screamed for him to stop as he bolted from the corral and raced into the fields. She lost sight of him among the wandering wergs.
Before she could start after him, Aiden shouted her name from behind. She turned around. He was shirtless, covered in dried blood and wearing only a pair of tattered, bloody jeans. He hobbled toward her. She rushed to meet him, colliding with his embrace and squeezing with all of her love.
He whispered, “Thank God you’re alright.”
She leaned her head back so she could see his eyes. “My friend, Billy, is here. He’s a werg. We have to find him,” she said.
“Okay. But if we don’t get to the forest soon, the cops will be swarming the area and we’ll be done for.” He pointed past the corral to a gap in the tree line. “That’s where we need to go. There is a path that leads to the top of the hill and a road.”
Before he ended their embrace, she whispered, “I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you, too.”
38
A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION
AN explosion from the fields between the corral and the woods drew Aiden’s focus away from Christine’s beautiful eyes. The wergs in the fields panicked and fled in all directions like zebras when the lions come.
In the early morning sun, Aiden saw the reason for their dread and the cause of the explosion. At the far end of the perimeter, two Jeeps packed with rogue hunters crossed the field. The men in the Jeeps hurled another grenade and sent wave after wave of gunfire into the scrambling wergs.
“Rogue hunters. They will kill every last werg if we don’t stop them.”
“We need to find Billy.”
“We will. First, you need to go to the trail in the woods. Follow that path to the top of the hill. Wait for me at the perimeter fence. I’ll find you there.”
“No, Aiden. Help me find Billy.”
“Christine, listen to me. I have to try to save these wergs ... these people. It’s my chance to redeem my actions as a hunter. I have to do this.”
“They’ll kill you.”
He brushed off her concern. “Listen to me. The forest is full of traps to keep the wergs from escaping. You have to keep from changing, no matter what.”
She looked away toward the Jeeps as another grenade exploded.
“Christine,” he snapped, breaking her trance. When she focused on him again, he asked, “Did you hear me?”
She nodded.
“The traps are marked with orange flags. Wergs can’t see bright orange; it’s like the flags are invisible. That’s why you have to stay human.”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
“I mean it. Do not change, no matter what. I will catch up to you. If you make it to the fence, wait for me there.”
Aiden turned to the Jeeps. He snarled as his forehead jutted and deformed. He dropped to all fours. While the other wergs ran from their attackers, Aiden ran toward them, more beast than man..
39
A SOUL SAVED
DEFENSELESS wergs dropped in droves around the rogue hunters’ two Jeeps. With her arm across her aching stomach, Christine hobbled along the corral fence toward the forest and the path. She watched the massacre, nauseated and afraid for the man she loved.
Another grenade explosion was followed by werewolf body parts flying through the air. She turned away from the horror for a moment to catch her breath. The wergs didn’t stand a chance and there was nothing Christine could do to help.
She stopped before she reached the tree line and searched the chaos for Aiden. She found him easily—he was the only werg running toward the killers instead of away from them.
Another explosion was followed by the clatter of machine gun fire. But the bastards hadn’t yet seen him. Maybe he had a chance.
She wanted to scream for him to come back before they caught him in their sights, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Countless wergs fell to the rogue hunters’ bullets, but Aiden advanced without fear.
They didn’t see him until he was upon the first Jeep. She heard the hunters’ screams before the Jeep disappeared into a ditch at the far end of the field. The second Jeep spun around and sped toward the drop-off.
They were close to the edge when Aiden launched into the air from the ditch. They aimed their weapons and fired. Christine could only stare in horror.
As though God himself were on Aiden’s side, their gunfire went wide of their mark. He landed in the Jeep with a bloodthirsty howl. The Jeep slid to a stop. The driver jumped from the vehicle and scrambled away from the massacre.
Christine caught herself hyperventilating as she watched. Within seconds, any movement within the Jeep had ceased. And then, like a rocket, Aiden leaped into the air and came down on the fleeing hunter.
Christine turned away. The rogue hunter’s final shriek echoed in her ears. She continued walking to the trees, but after a dozen steps she took one more look back at Aiden. He was herding the wergs toward freedom.
When she was about to enter the woods, she glanced back to the WereHouse which was fully engulfed in flames. The fire department—her friends—had arrived, their ladder extended high above the building, throwing water onto the inferno. If they were there, that meant the police were likely there as well, and she wondered if the cops would have the stones to leave their cars with all of the wergs roaming free. She couldn’t count on them not having the stones, so she pushed through her pain.
Wergs grunted and barked all around her, but for the first time in her life she felt safer among these creatures than with people. She tried shooing them toward Aiden, but she might as well have tried explaining calculus to them.
Once in the forest, she glanced down at her injuries and then to the steep hill between her and her goal and ne
arly gave up. She reminded herself that Billy was somewhere in there and she had to find him.
Throughout the forest, agonized yelps and whimpers from the fleeing wergs filled the air. She covered her ears. Her slow climb brought her to an orange flag. Whatever trap waited beneath the pile of leaves beside it would be excruciating for anyone, werg or otherwise. Knowing there were similar piles of leaves camouflaging other insidious traps caused Christine to shudder. She tightened the wool blanket around her torso and gave the flag a wide berth as she continued up the path.
40
A SNAKE ESCAPES
BERNARD made it to the top of the hill and closer to freedom. Individual explosions and the popping of machine-gun fire from his compound at the bottom of the hill brought a smile to his lips. He figured if anyone got past his savages, his loyal rogue hunters would finish the job.
He came to another orange flag in the ground near the ten-foot-high perimeter fence. A sinking feeling that he was being followed filled him, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he stepped over the area surrounding the orange flag. Then he turned around in time to see a werg dart between two trees. Bernard stood and waited for the werg to reveal himself which, after a few seconds, he did.
“Ahhh,” Bernard sighed. “I recognize you. You’re Christine’s friend, Billy, aren’t you?”
Billy dropped to all fours. His upper lip crinkled, baring his teeth.
“If you want me, beast, I won’t fight you.” Bernard didn’t know whether Billy understood him or not, but figured it was worth a shot. Billy stalked closer. Bernard glanced at the flag with a smile and stepped backward.
Come on, you filthy creature.
Billy started to move forward, so close to the trap that Bernard held his breath. That’s it. Come on.
And then, as if someone told the creature about his game, Billy stopped mid-step and backed up.
Uh-oh.
Billy tilted his head to the side.
Tamed Page 21
