by Mark Tufo
Mathieu had finally got into the fray. As a werewolf leaped for Azile, Mathieu’s paw swiped over the top of my head, ripping the nose free from the invader. Blood sprayed across my face as the werewolf fell to the ground, whining. I put two bullets into it to shut it down.
“Bailey, we have to pull back!” I grabbed her shoulder. She spun, wide-eyed. Not only were people falling, but the fence was as well. Werewolves were slamming into it and splintering the heavy wood.
“Pull back?” she asked, defeated. “Pull back where?”
That was a damned good question, one for which I had no answer for. Mathieu was attacking werewolves as if he blamed each and every one of them personally for what had gone wrong in his life. If the werewolves attacking had been confused at first with this turning of their supposed ally, they were over it now as more often than not he became their favorite target. Azile was doing that lip moving, spell reading shit, paying absolutely no attention to what was going on around her.
“We’ve got to go!” I told all those who would listen. I draped Azile over my shoulder like I would an old blanket. She didn’t protest or say anything really, so I took that as a good sign. “Bailey, come on!” I urged.
I had no sooner come down off the parapet than Gount came running towards me. He’d gotten close, maybe fifteen feet, before the claws of a werewolf emerged from his mid-section like a probing alien. Blood flew from his mouth like ejecta. I riddled his corpse and the werewolf behind him with bullets. As he fell to the ground, his hand popped open. In it was a key. Bailey was stumbling after me like she’d just polished off a bottle of Jeff Daniels. Did I remember that drink wrong? Mathieu was watching the back of our retreat as more and more werewolves sprang into the town.
Fires raged all around us, turned over lanterns and candles catching nearly everything ablaze. It was a clusterfuck. People were screaming—at least the ones who were still alive. People were running in all different directions, some blindly, into the literal mouths of the enemy. I was heading for the vault, as it was the only place we’d have a chance. The only question that remained was would we make it there. I should have kept on running when I heard the scream. It really would have been in my best interests.
“BAILEY! Take Azile and get to the vault.” She was going into shock, I slapped her hard enough to hurt my hand and, I’m sure, rattle her teeth. “Now!” I just about tossed Azile into her arms. “Mathieu, follow them.”
He thundered past me, never acknowledging my command. He did so in gesture, though, which was far more important. I ran quickly to the hotel. Lana was pushed back in the far corner wielding a sword. Where she had gotten that, I have no idea, but that wasn’t really the issue. It was the two werewolves she was barely holding at bay. I cannot even tell you how hard I pulled on a trigger that was not going to work. Sort of surprised I didn’t snap the curved metal. My bolt was open, signifying I had no rounds. I plunged forward, screaming as I shoved the bayonet into the small of the back of the werewolf that was closest.
He howled even as he was turning, his forearm catching me in the shoulder and sending me spinning away. I crashed through chairs and tables coming to rest on the far side of the room. He turned to finish what I had started. My rifle was incredibly still stuck into his back, like an extra tail. The second werewolf took that most inopportune of times to see what his wingman was up to. Lana did not hesitate as she plunged her sword through his midsection. Unlike me, she was much quicker to pull back and withdraw from his defensive swing. When he missed he went towards her. I lost sight of their battle as my werewolf blocked the view in his haste to get to me. I stood before he could get over all the obstacles between us. His mouth was open, and incredibly large fangs hung down, strings of red drool hanging from them. At first I figured that to be the blood of his victims until more and more of it began to drop from his mouth. Apparently, I’d cut through something fairly important within him. Now, if he’d just have the good graces to die, I could get this fight over with.
I picked up a chair and was holding it in between us. The werewolf grabbed it and wrenched it free, splintering it against the wall next to us. Hand-to-hand combat with a werewolf did not sound like my idea of a good time. But that was what I was prepared to do, at least until I saw the point of a sword protrude from the side of his neck. Blood jettisoned from the wound as the werewolf went to his knees. Lana pulled her blade back and gave him a blow to the side of the neck that lodged the sword in at least four inches. He fell over to the side.
“You saved me!” Lana shouted.
“Umm, I’m not really sure that’s how that happened,” I told her as I looked over to where the other werewolf lay in a pool of its own blood. “Come on, we have to go.” I grabbed her arm, but looked back to the two werewolves she had killed.
The town was a maelstrom of disaster. I was having a hard time reconciling the damage. It was entirely too surreal. Werewolves were running around tearing through people. Buildings were on fire, the fence had come down in a half a dozen spots. Shots were still being fired, but I could not tell from what direction. Lana had struck out with her sword, chopping through the side of a werewolf; it was too late for whomever the animal had been eating. That it was a small figure was not lost on me. I buried my axe into the back of the werewolf’s skull before he could turn and attack. When we hit the path behind the hotel, the noise subsided, the foliage partially blocking out the sounds of death and destruction. Now all I could hear was our heavy breathing as Lana and I made our way as quickly as possible to what we hoped was some semblance of safety.
The woods took on an ominous feel. I was expecting an attack at any moment. I couldn’t decide if I wanted Lana to be behind me or in front, as danger was all around. A piercing scream came from the town and was then overshadowed by multiple werewolves howling.
“That wasn’t too far off. Run, Lana, they’re coming.”
She did, and I made sure to stay on her heels, always keeping a look out to our six. I could hear the rustling of bushes behind us, but did not see anything as we came up on the door. I about had a heart attack when Lana screamed. Mathieu, in all his monstrous glory, was standing at the door. I’m not going to lie, I thought that perhaps he had killed everyone and was now waiting for us so that he could do the same. The door pushed open a little further, Azile urged us on in. It was going to be a long time before that burst of adrenaline worked its way through my system.
Lana ducked under Mathieu’s arm and into the bunker. I squeezed Mathieu’s arm as I passed in as well. His head swiveled down to look at me. I’d swear his eyebrows pulled close in a questioning gesture. I can’t imagine he’d seen too many human emotions in this form except terror, certainly not thankfulness. I shook my head when Mathieu looked at me. He let the door shut behind him. It was not a comforting feeling having him literally breathing down my neck. It was exactly how you would imagine it would be. I could feel the heat traveling down my collar line, basting my neck and back, I’m sure adding more moisture to an already sweat-soaked area.
We had just gotten down to the bottom of the stairs when something heavy collided with the door up top. I was hopeful it was more people, right up until we heard the deep claw scratches of werewolves trying to get in. They tried for a few more minutes before they decided they wanted back in on the action at town.
The door to the armory was open as was the one that led to the hidden tunnel. Bailey was in the escape tunnel along with twenty or so other survivors. She was sitting with her back up against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees, crying. I could never picture her becoming so small and not just physically. She was spiritually diminished as well. She was not taking the fall of Talboton well; for that was what had happened. Even in a few hours when the moon had passed there would be little left. I sat next to her. She stiffened at first. I did not attempt to touch her, nor did I attempt to talk to her. I just sat next to her.
“I was wrong,” she told me after a time. “I’ve been wrong so many ti
mes.”
“Yup.” I paused for a moment.
She turned to look at me.
“We’re all wrong at some point, Bailey.”
“My wrong got people killed.”
“It’s a war, that’s generally the outcome. You’re not the first, Bailey, and sadly…you won’t be the last. I’ve been wrong, umm…a bunch of times. A lot of good people have died from my decisions as well. You were doing what you thought was right, you can’t fault yourself for that. I do not believe any choice you would have made tonight would have altered this outcome. There were just too many of them.”
“I could have tried.” She about drove her fist through her thigh. I was happy that punch wasn’t directed at me.
“It’s what we do from this point on that matters. What has happened is done, we cannot alter that no matter how much we wish.”
“And what do we do, Michael? Talboton is gone.”
“I’d give you that bullshit line about rebuilding, but that isn’t really my style. We’re going to regroup, somehow, someway, and then we’re going to kill Xavier.”
“We should have just kept chasing after him. We could have possibly prevented this entire thing.”
“Even now can you say you would have let those kids go on their own?”
“What good has it done? Nemmon is dead and most likely so is Breealla.”
“You couldn’t have known that. Again, Bailey, you did, at the time, what you thought was right. Each action has a reaction…it’s just impossible to know what that is going to be. I hate to be an ass, but you’re going to have to feel sorry for yourself at a later time. We need to figure out our immediate problem first.” I stood up.
She looked up at me. “I do not think you hate it. Help me up.” She stuck her hand out.
“We alright, you and me?” I asked her.
“We are for now.”
I knew what that meant, until I screwed up again, which was inevitable.
“Michael, we have a problem.” Azile was standing by the armory door.
I turned the corner to see a shaking Merrings holding an M-16.
“You have got to be kidding me. You survived?” I asked.
“Yes and I plan on keeping doing that!”
“I don’t think that’s proper English,” I told him, although who was I to judge. I’d been making up my own words for generations. “Put the gun down, Merrings. You’re an asshole, but no one wants to kill you.”
“How…how do I know that!”
“Because she’s a witch, I’m somewhat of a vampire, and my buddy over there is a werewolf, and that’s not even including the Warrior Goddess Bailey. Plus there’s still Lana, who may be part samurai. If we wanted you dead, it would be a foregone conclusion. However, if your twitching fingers pull that trigger and you hurt someone, I will not hesitate to snap your neck.”
He thought about it for a few seconds, then put the rifle down like it had just become superheated. I walked into the room.
“We’re going to have to leave these behind.” I was caressing the side of an M-16 crate.
“We can’t leave here!” Merrings was beside himself.
“Can’t eat bullets, and eventually the Lycan will sniff this place out. Plus, I, for one, have had my fill of tunnel warfare.” I shuddered.
Bailey came in after me. “Has anyone seen Gount?”
I shook my head, she could tell what I meant. Not that he hadn’t made it yet, but that he was never going to make it.
“We need to arm up and grab as much stuff as we can. Then rig this place to blow.”
“We cannot blow up the Talboton armory. This is the source upon which we were founded!”
“Now you’re getting patriotic, Merrings. You were ready to give it all away,” I said to him.
“Only enough to prevent a war. And what of it now? Wouldn’t it have been better had I succeeded?”
“See, Bailey, another mistake on our part. Merrings is right, we’re never going to be able to carry all this shit out.”
“Why destroy it?” she asked. “We can come back with more people.”
“If they find it, we could be even more screwed.”
“I can hide it,” Azile said as she walked around the room. “Much like I have my homes.”
“I like that better. You’re sure they can’t detect it?”
“As much as I can be.”
“Man, I can’t tell you how much I dislike vagaries.”
“I am more inclined to believe they will not discover it than they will. Bailey, please have your people get all that they can carry. The spell will work better if the door is closed and sealed.”
“I’m not leaving,” Merrings said weakly.
“Okay, you stay in here. If and when we come back, we’ll get you out,” I told him as I started putting on ammunition belts. Yes, that’s plural. I was planning on being a walking ammunition depot. Bailey and the twenty-two other shell-shocked survivors began doing the same.
I don’t know how many rounds a hundred and fifty pounds equated to, but that was roughly what I was carrying on my body. Merrings finally relented and came out. Azile spent five minutes performing her spell before we all began to make our way down the corridor. Mathieu and I led the way. Lana was somewhere in the middle. She’d wanted to stay up front, and seeing her proficiency with the sword, maybe I should have let her. But I’d only had two hundred years and hadn’t quite gotten over my sexism. Which is funny if you think about it, considering the sheer amount of strong women I’ve had surrounding me my entire life. Let’s call it chivalry instead.
I popped the door open, leading with the muzzle of my weapon. There was nothing as far as the eye could see, which was about ten feet.
“So far so good.” I stepped out, Mathieu immediately behind me and then quickly past me as he checked the perimeter.
There were a few distant screams, and it would have been impossible not to see the glow in the sky from the burning township behind us. Thick, cloying smoke was at about waist level as it seeped through and around the trees, giving the already eerie situation an added creep factor. Azile spent a few moments on the door behind us; I would imagine cloaking that as well. We were as silent as twenty-five souls (in reality twenty-four souls, but you get the meaning) could be, decked out in extra gear like we were. Some men were carrying two and three rifles in addition to their bullets.
“Where to?” Bailey asked, trying to peer through the haze.
“Denarth.” Lana had made her way to the front and was now leading; Azile and I next to her. Mathieu would lope off after every sound and would return soundlessly. The second time he came back, I made sure to tie a shirt around his arm so he wouldn’t get shot appearing out of the mist like he was.
We traveled for miles, free from the smoke and screams. The glowing of orange to our back had finally faded from view as well. We all felt like we could finally take a breath, even Merrings, who I had thought may never stop shaking.
We bunched up as we hit the edge of the forest. The night was calm. I didn’t see anything that would lead me to believe all was not right, it was something in my gut. It was too peaceful, if that makes sense.
“How much time on that full moon?” I asked Mathieu. It is sort of strange to have a werewolf look at you like you were crazy.
“Less than an hour,” Azile answered.
“We need to pick our poison. Either we go now and there may be werewolves around, or we wait until the Lycan move in. Neither is very appealing. I vote we wait. My thinking is that there are WAY more werewolves than Lycan and the Lycan will be in no rush to leave the conquered town.” It was perfectly valid reasoning right up until we heard howling off to our immediate left. Sounded a lot like a hunting party on the trail of some food. There were screams of people not too far off.
“We have to move,” Bailey said. “It sounds like they are heading this way.”
“They’re bringing the werewolves right to us? We need to stop them!” Merrings sai
d.
“Well, go out there and do it then,” I told him, shoving his shoulder. “Let’s move away from this spot and see if we can help them in any way.” We got about twenty-five yards away from the cover of trees before getting low in the tall grass, which nearly obscured us completely. The screams of terror trailed off as the howls of triumph increased. We saw one man totter from the woods, gaping wounds crisscrossing his chest. One arm was completely torn off, and blood was streaked across his face, totally covering his left eye.
“Lankins,” Bailey said softly.
Five werewolves fanned out around the injured Talbotonian. We had our rifles up, but did not fire for fear we would attract many more werewolves to our location. Lankins was a dead man stumbling. The werewolves were toying with their food, batting him around from one to the next, sometimes dipping in and savagely biting the man who had not even the strength to yell anymore. It was one of the most difficult things I’d ever had to watch. The werewolves were so sated with the flesh of their victims that they had time to play with their food now. Mercifully, he finally succumbed to the many wounds and fell to the ground. Two of the werewolves dove in and began to tear apart what was left while two others were just milling about. It was that last one that was going to be a pain in the ass. He had his nose up in the air and was sampling for smell. As our lack of luck would have it, we were upwind.
I don’t think he could see us, but he was staring straight our way even as the light of dawn began to creep across the land.
“How much time, Azile?” I asked as softly as possible.
“About five minutes less than the last time you asked me.”
The lone werewolf began to howl. His companions all stopped what they were doing to look at where he was. Then accompanying howls began to radiate from all around us.
“Run,” I told the group right as I put a shot between that werewolf’s eyes.
They crossed for a moment as if wanting to see the entry wound, and then he fell to the side. The pursuit was on, from the four original ones and the others in the general area. If I used the howls as a guide, I’d say they numbered in the range of fifty or sixty. But that was about as accurate as counting marbles in a jar by the ones you could see.
