by Mark Tufo
“You fucking shoot me again, I’ll toss you over this wall myself,” I said, leaning in close so only she could hear.
“You might as well do it now then, because if you kill one more person, he will order me to put a bullet in that diseased brain of yours.”
“Bailey, you realize those are werewolves out there, right?”
“I realize that.” She sighed.
“They are people, starving people who are afraid for their lives…and with good reason. Not only do they have to fear their Lycan captors, they have to fear those they seek to assist them. I cannot allow you to kill any more of them.” Gount had come up to supervise that his charge carried out her orders.
“Can you be so thick as to think the Lycan are just letting these people go?”
“I see no Lycan, do you? Maybe these people rose up and destroyed them.”
“You should write a book, because you apparently have a very vivid imagination. The Lycan are banking on the very thing that makes us human…being civilized. They know we’ll want to do what we can to help those poor bastards. We’ll take them in, get them some clothes and shelter, comfort them as best we can. It’s like they’re sending in thousands of Trojan horses, each of those people hiding a werewolf inside of them. The ultimate wolf in sheep’s guise—this is biblical stuff! It’s a fucking full-moon tonight, Gount, isn’t that just a little too coincidental?”
“I don’t care, Michael, unhand Bailey. I can almost feel the sickness within you threatening to get out from here.”
Maybe I was in shock from his words, or maybe I was just done fighting with him. I righted Bailey and stepped back.
“Karvers, Lillman. He shoots that rifle without an order from me…I want you to blow his head off,” Bailey told two of her men. She was looking me straight in the eyes. The two in question looked at each other before getting closer and taking position around me.
“BT would have trusted me.”
“I’m not BT.” I could see the pain in her eyes, this was her town, Gount was her direct superior what could she do? That didn’t stop my next comment.
“Obviously,” I answered bitingly, the underlying insult easy enough to hear. I handed Bailey my rifle. “I think you know what I want you to do with this.” I walked down off the parapet.
“Stay with him,” Bailey told her men.
“These idiots follow me into the hotel, it will be the last thing they do.” I was crossing the dirt roadway. I took a small sense of satisfaction in the fact that they were not behind me.
I thought about just pushing the bartender out of the way and parking myself under the beer tap, instead I went upstairs. I knocked lightly on Mathieu’s door. The door was slightly open so I pushed it further to notice Mathieu sitting on the edge of his bed. Hands on his knees, he was looking straight ahead, not out the window like one might expect, but at an old mirror that had a hard time reflecting light, much less any details in a face.
“I can almost see who I am to become,” he said as I entered. “I can feel the pull of the moon on my very being. It beckons me with promises of pure, wild ferocity. To hunt, to kill, to eat.”
I didn’t know if this was his way of telling me that he needed to be tied up.
“I could smell those werewolves that you killed, and it infuriated me, Michael. I wanted to kill you for killing my kind.”
I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to respond, and in addition I really didn’t know where the conversation—as one-sided as it may be—was going.
“I’ve debated having you tie me up. All the bloodshed that is about to happen may be more than I can take. Then I think that, if I don’t, and I attack somebody…that I will have at least you to end my suffering.”
“Suicide by vampire? Don’t put that shit on me, Mathieu. If you want to die, take care of it your damn self. I’ll grab your machete, then you can go fall on it. Oh, and maybe you’ll get a pass into Heaven for killing your family because it was something out of your control. But if you now willingly turn without restraints knowing that you are going to harm others, all bets are off. And just so you know where I stand, we can both play hardball. I’m not going to kill you until you kill someone else, so that your last thoughts on earth will be guilt. What are the odds you’ll have ascension at that point?”
He finally turned away from the mirror, his eyes red with heavy bags under them as if he’d been crying. “It is impossible for me to tell whether you hate me or truly care for me.”
I couldn’t help it. I let out a laugh. “That’s kind of the way most people feel about me. Just so you know, I care about you.”
“It’s the beer, isn’t it?”
“Of course. Do you want me to restrain you?”
“I...I can do this.”
“You weren’t so certain just a minute ago.”
“Just stay close, I’ll be alright. Why are you in here? More importantly why do you smell of blood?”
“Gount threatened to kill me and began to follow through with his threat.”
“You certainly have a way with people.”
“I’ve been honing these skills for a long time now. She can’t see the people advancing for what they are. To her they are people in need of help, when in actuality they are ticking time bombs. That make sense?”
“Yes, I know enough. Some of those magazines were comic books.”
“Yeah, plenty of time bombs in those I’m sure.” I sat down on the bed next to him. “We’ll make it through this night.”
“And then?”
I shrugged. “Then we make it through the next night.”
“Are you okay?”
“Bullet passed through the fleshy part, I’ll be fine. I think your sour mash clogged the hole up.”
“Mister Talbot! Mister Talbot!” Someone was shouting as they came up the stairs, then there was a heavy rapping on my door. Mathieu and I both got up to look out.
“Mister? Haven’t been called that in a while, maybe he’s hawking newspapers,” I said to Mathieu. “What?” I asked louder so the soldier trying to smash my door in could hear.
The soldier seemed surprised to see me a couple of doors down from where he expected me to be.
“The Red Witch wishes to see you.”
“I’ll be right there.” I turned to talk to Mathieu before realizing that the young soldier wasn’t leaving. “Go,” I told him.
“She told me not to come back without you. She also told me to be more afraid of her than of you, which honestly was easy enough to do before I got in front of you.”
“Oh, trust me, she’s much scarier. You going to be alright?” I asked Mathieu.
“Come back with the moon.”
“Understood.” I placed my hands down on top of his shoulders. “It’ll be alright. We’ll make it.”
He nodded.
“Lead on,” I told the boy.
“You’ll follow?”
“I promise. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”
I got back up on the wall. I took note that the Lycan captives were still advancing, though they had started to move slower once I’d shown them that at least one of us was prepared to bleed them.
Bailey was there as well as Humpty and Dumpty, the two who had been assigned to shoot me should I attempt to kill the enemy again. Talk about fighting a war with your hands tied behind your back. Defend the homestead at all costs! Just don’t hurt anyone.
“What’s going on, Azile. There’s somewhere else I’d rather be.”
“You needed to be here so I could explain what you are about to see.”
“What I’m about to see?”
But she did not answer me. I saw her lips moving, her left hand rising up. I saw what I discovered to be rose petals flying into the air now softly cascading down. Then she started speaking softly.
“Reveal yourself for who you are, show yourself from afar. Your inner heart will call, like these petals that now fall. The price one’s soul is paying depends on the role they are play
ing. Naked and raw, it is the natural law. Once and for all, show your flaws!”
Cries of alarm came from around the entire wall. I’d been looking out over the people coming in. They shimmered and pulsed like a roadway on a hot summer day. Then impossibly they began to change but not physically, not yet. They were revealing what was inside of them. Images of the werewolves that resided within became overlaid on the person that was showing.
“What the hell just happened?” I asked.
“Is this some sort of trick, witch?” Bailey asked.
“Yeah, she put a glamour spell over all of them so we wouldn’t feel bad about shooting thousands of people,” I said heatedly to Bailey. “She’s revealing who they truly are.” I couldn’t help but notice that Bailey had a glow to her as Azile’s spell did not have the ability to discriminate.
“Yes, it is indeed telling,” Bailey said to me.
The way she said it to me and me only led me to believe she had reason. I pulled up my arm to look at it. Coating it like thick, oily grease was a layer of black tar as swirling as octopus ink in a vat of water. “Azile?!” I was panicking.
“That is why I wanted you here, Michael. I did not wish to do a Revelation but I had no choice. Gount would have allowed the werewolves in and that cannot happen. Just because you and I could tell they were what they were did not mean anyone else could. To them they are husbands, fathers, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, children, like anyone else in this town.”
“Why do I look like this?” I could not keep my gaze from my arm. I could feel the heat of a multitude of people looking at me.
“There is nothing to show but the hollowness within you.”
I knew what was inside of me, or really the lack of, but to be shown a visible representation, well, that’s a whole other matter. Do you think a smoker would still puff away on cigarettes if they could actually see the darkening of their lungs, or perhaps would a drinker keep imbibing if he could see the cirrhosis as it began to corrode his liver? What were my choices? This wasn’t caused by some sort of vice, nor was it anything I could take medication for. No amount of praying, chanting, or even therapy was going to cure what ailed me.
“Nothing has changed, Michael. You are still the same man you were five minutes ago,” Azile said softly, maybe even tenderly.
“Easily said from one who is glowing like she has phosphorescence for skin.” Azile looked ethereal from the light that poured off of her. I noted sourly that her light could not illuminate me.
“Bailey, they’re moving quicker!” a sentry shouted.
She never turned from me when she shouted. “Fire at will! Here.” She thrust my earlier discarded rifle into my hands.
I looked to Bailey and Azile and then out at the enemy, who were still coming forward, though a lot of their time spent looking at those around them and at their own limbs much like I was, disbelieving what their own eyes were showing them. It was exactly what one would expect would happen when a hundred and fifty M-16s opened fire on a crowd of thousands. It was a massacre, bodies and parts of bodies lay everywhere. I had never been on such a one-sided battle in my entire life. The ground became soggy with blood. So much was being spilled so quickly that it could not be absorbed fast enough.
I noted that the Lycan masters were attempting to call back their charges. Is there even a best option in that scenario for those people? Many did choose the Lycan as they turned and began to run back. Death later was always preferably to death now. Although some saw it differently and still advanced, almost embracing the impacts that shattered sternums, destroyed pelvises, severed limbs, and devastated dreams. There were over five hundred dead or dying people on that field by the time Bailey called for a ceasefire. Many atop the wall were openly crying for the carnage that had been wrought below them. I could not fault them that.
“Bailey, there are wounded down there that need tending to,” I told her.
“What would you have me do?”
“Take care of it.” I was going to see how Mathieu was doing. She knew what I was implying. The injured people would become healthy enough werewolves if they made it to the full moon, now not more than ten minutes away. “And you’ve got about fifteen minutes to get everyone on this wall who can pull a trigger.”
“Michael, the town needs to still be able to function.”
“There will be no town if they’re not up there. I suggest you get moving quickly.”
I heard Bailey’s orders and the subsequent shots being fired before I made it back to the hotel. That was not a duty I envied anybody for.
Mathieu had made it downstairs. He was standing by a table, his hair hanging down. He was tightly gripping a table as if he were going to move it or more likely toss it. Those few who had been in there had wisely decided to find someplace else to wait out the war when they had seen Azile’s spell foreshadow his persona.
“It’s do or die time, Mathieu.”
“It is already beginning. I can feel the pull of the moon on every fiber of my being. I am as powerless to stop it as the tide is from washing ashore.”
“Upstairs or outside?” I liked Mathieu, but I could not spare the time to watch him, not right now.
“Outside.” It sounded gruff, like he had swallowed some pebbles previously and they were lodged in his throat.
I led him out, he walked stiff-legged as we headed to the wall. Shots were still firing as Bailey’s men kept finding those who had not yet succumbed to their injuries. The wall was standing room only, which given the circumstances is a poor joke. Our forces had almost tripled, that’s not nearly as impressive as it sounds, from a little over a hundred and fifty to a little over four hundred.
Mathieu and I joined Azile up on that wall, those nearby giving us some breathing room, not because there was much to give, but because they wanted to be as far away from us as was humanly possible. We all watched as the leading edge of the moon broke over the plane of the horizon. The snapping of bones next to me was thankfully drowned out by the screams of those out on the field changing over. Mathieu would grunt from time to time. I lifted my rifle and began to transition the prospective werewolves from one existence to another.
I was just replacing my spent magazine when Mathieu howled next to me. I turned to look over my right shoulder, wondering if I had just made a huge error in judgment. His massive head swiveled from its upraised position so that he was looking right at me, his elongated snout nearly touching my face. I think if he had snaked his tongue out, he would have been able to lick my nose. I mean, I’m thankful he didn’t, I’m just saying that’s how close he was. He took in a long inhalation and then, I guess not liking my scent, wrinkled his muzzle. His yellow eyes were trained on mine. Neither of us moved for long seconds.
“We alright?” I finally asked him.
His head cocked to the side, sort of like Oggie’s would if I asked him if he wanted a snack. It was as cute as this sort of thing could be when you’re staring into the face of a monster. If we lived through the night, I might tell him about it. Although, on second thought, probably not. Be kind of weird to tell a full-grown man he does a puppy tilt thing with his head.
It was quiet for the moment as we both stared out onto the field. The calm was so great, even the insects had started up their night song. That changed fast. I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise as the howls of a thousand werewolves pierced the night. I knew then, that this was over.
The fat lady wasn’t singing because she was dead from a brain hemorrhage.
Werewolves erupted from the tree line like they’d been shot from it. The cracking of a couple of hundred rifles met them headlong. Some werewolves would tumble and fall from a kill shot, but most seemed to be absorbing the bullets rather than being impacted by them. The werewolves had covered half of the four hundred yards of open expanse and were paying dearly for the land grab, yet they still hadn’t stopped emerging from the trees.
Mathieu was growling and doing everything in his power to not jum
p down and either meet the foe or join with them. Who knows.
“My God, there are thousands of them. Where could they have possibly gotten this many people?” Bailey had asked.
“They’re not people now.” I was firing so rapidly, the barrel of my weapon was heating up.
It was useless, and there wasn’t a man or woman on that wall who didn’t realize we were fighting a losing battle. I had to give it to them; none of them ran, although there really wasn’t anywhere they could go. Wasn’t like this was the front lines to a battle and they could desert to their homes a thousand miles away. This was home. Stand and win or fall and die. Hundreds of werewolves lay on that ground, and not one of the beasts next to them grieved. Up and over the fallen they loped. We were seconds from contact.
“FIX BAYONETS!” I don’t know how much success I had shouting out that command, but at least those around me who had one on hand spent a moment to do just that. The werewolves were close enough now that they were making leaps for the wall. Some successfully and were already fighting with those on the wall, some falling short leaving gaping claw marks in the rough-hewn pickets of the fence. More and more werewolves had made it on to the wall, some even breaching past the defenders and heading for the defenseless inhabitants.
“This cannot be!” Bailey was shrieking. She had just impaled a werewolf in the throat in mid-flight. She had received a bloody swipe across her thigh for her efforts. Screams were coming from buildings within the town as residents had their first and last encounter with the enemy. We weren’t fighting to defend anymore; just that quick, we were fighting for our lives. Talbotons were falling fast. I watched a grisly demise as a small woman was pulled in half by two werewolves fighting over her.
