by Terry Yates
“Go to the trucks!” Potts yelled looking down at Lauren. “And take him with you!”
The creature had stopped screaming and was barely moving now after Joe had torn open its throat, its blood beginning to form a large pool behind its head.
“Get to the trucks! Now! Go!”
“Come, Joe!” Lauren screamed, slapping her thighs. Joe had been wiping his nose, mouth, and tongue, on the ground. Unlike werewolves, Joe did not enjoy the taste of flesh and blood. He would eat it if he had to, but otherwise, give him what the Big Ones ate. When Lauren slapped her knees, Joe looked up, bloody mouth and all, and began to sprint toward her. When he reached her, she gave his head a quick pat and the two ran into the hospital.
There were several civilians and soldiers still shooting at the creatures, which were mostly dead or being hunted down. They better get ‘em soon, he thought to himself. Potts looked up at the moon, the whole while dropping the clip from his pistol into his hand, then immediately replacing it with a new one. Potts didn’t have to have either eye to load or unload his revolver. He’d done it what…a thousand times now, including of course, time spent on the range. He hadn’t been able to shoot in weeks being stuck at the refugee camp where civilians were abundant, including the celebrities that would complain about his icky gun and all the of the ways it was fuckin’ the environment. This was the first time he had shot a pistol in battle since he’d lost his eye. He’d practice drawing and aiming his gun, looking quickly left, then right, then left again, trying to get used to the one dimensional vision. It had been difficult at first, but he had gotten the hang of it. Just like riding a bike, he thought to himself.
The sky was darkening by the minute, of which they had about fifteen, if he wasn’t mistaken. He raised his pistol into the air and fired three shots in succession, hoping that the remaining shooters heard him. They had, for they all turned to see him waiving his gun in the air, ordering them to retreat to the front of the hospital. As the men and women ran passed him toward the hospital, Potts looked at the field. Under the darkening sky, the blood looked black in color. Corpses were everywhere. Several of them had been the bite victims who had only been moments from turning when they were killed, and now they littered the field, their faces no longer bat-like or strange, and their open lifeless eyes, no longer the deep, dark, brown. He walked over to the corpse of the bite victim that Joe had pulled off of him. The thing that had tried to kill him had been a young man…he couldn’t really tell. The body was still wearing its hospital gown, and its face was lying on its chin, its lifeless eyes a dark brown, staring straight ahead. Joe went to town on this guy. The whole back of the body’s neck was almost gone, torn away by the dog. He also saw bite marks on the body’s right leg and several to the back of both arms. There was no telling how many there were on the front of the body.
Potts saw movement about twenty yards away. He took another quick look at the moon, then trotted over to where he’d seen the movement. When he arrived at the spot, he saw that it was a soldier, but not one of his. This was one of Baine’s men. Potts armed all of his men with side arms, plus unbeknownst to most, Potts got a couple of laundry people to put a little something in the uniforms to make them just a shade darker. Having only one eye, it made it easier to separate his unit from any others.
The soldier was lying on his side, his back to Potts, with his left hand holding the right side of his neck. Potts gently stepped over the soldier’s feet, and turned around. It was an olive-skin young man. Potts could see blood still pouring through the his hand, and there was enough of it on the ground in front of him to kill two people. He knelt down in front of the soldier, who upon realizing that someone was there, looked up into Potts’ face.
“Whatcha’ ya’ got there, Son?” Potts asked the young man, trying to form a smile, but having little luck. “Claw mark or bite?”
When Potts reached the front of the hospital, he was met with chaos. People were running frantically in all directions, screaming. Whole families were trying to get out there, but having no luck, because of the traffic jam in the parking lot. Vehicles had been parked in so many different ways by people driving in a blind panic, that there was absolutely no uniformity to it. Some were in their cars, smashing into the car in front of them and then putting it onto reverse, and crashing into the car in back of them. This scenario would not be so bad if you were in the second or third car, but not when you were car number seventeen and your three rows in. He saw Kyler and several of the doctors trying to get patients into two of the trucks, but were having trouble dealing with either the patients’ relatives or the patients themselves. Potts watched in disgust as people began to run over each other, trying to escape the situation. He took a deep breath, then with the nimbleness and agility of a fourteen-year-old acrobat, he was on the hood of a black SUV. He pulled his revolver and placed it into the air. He let go three quick, loud blasts from the ‘45’. After a few gasps, and a few “what in the hell’s”, everyone in the parking lot was dead quiet.
“Quiet!” Potts yelled, gun in the air looking toward the back of the hospital.
“That’s my truck you’re standing on, Sir,” came a voice from Potts’ right.
“And it’s gonna be your eyelids that I’m gonna be standing on next, you grit-eating, Okie peckerwood!” Potts snarled, as he bent down and pointed the gun right toward the head of a large, fat, young man with a black cap sitting on his melon. “Now shut up!”
There was silence as Potts kept his ear cocked. Kyler made his way over to Potts, and stood next to the truck.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking up at Potts, who was still looking toward the back of the hospital.
“Shh!”
Potts had no sooner shushed Kyler than they heard the sound of a howl coming from off to their right, followed quickly by another one coming from the woods behind the hospital.
“Two,” Potts said quietly.
Next came what sounded like a male screaming as if he was on fire.
“He’s turning,” Kyler said.
“Three.”
Three more howls came one after another from different parts of the back woods.
“Shit. Six.”
Suddenly from behind them, they heard another scream from over a hill. This howl was louder, longer, and CLOSER than the previous ones.
“Christ, that’s seven.”
Potts turned to the crowd. “Everyone, go and stand next to your cars! Now!”
After hearing the howls, the group didn’t need to be told twice. Potts and Kyler watched as they began to quickly disperse to their cars.
“FranAnne, Sam, Jefferson, and the sheriff are upstairs getting our group out of there.”
“Well get ‘em down here and get ‘em in the trucks! We’ve got to get out of here!”
They were in luck. The first three cars had people standing next to them.
“Go!” Potts screamed at the first three drivers, two men and a woman. “Go! Go! Go! Get out of here! Get on the highway and don’t stop till you run out of gas! Go!”
The drivers quickly jumped into their cars, and peeled out of the parking lot, all three vehicles squealing their tires as they left, leaving an empty car.
“You, you, and you!” Potts yelled, pointing at several soldiers. “Get that car out of the way! The rest of your soldiers form a perimeter until we can get these people out of here!
Immediately the three soldiers, along with two civilians, picked up the black, empty Camry, and moved it sideways, so that four more cars could get through. Meanwhile, Potts’ soldiers and what was left of Baine’s men, began to encircle the small parking lot, rifles up and ready. Kyler shook his head in amazement at the man…that is, until he heard another howl, and then was off into the hospital again.
Kyler reached the top of the stairs, where he was met on the landing by FranAnne and Mary Sue, who ran past Kyler, and down the stairs.
“Did we just hear about a dozen of those things beginning to ho
wl?” FranAnne asked Kyler as he stepped onto the landing, panting.
“Seven…to be…exact…” Kyler gasped, bending over. It was only a slight bend, though. He was actually getting into shape.
“Seven?” FranAnne exclaimed, but in a lower register. Ever since Kyler snapped at her…and Sam, of course…she had been extra careful about how she spoke in front of the little ones.
“Everyone’s getting out of here. Let’s get everybody to the trucks,” Kyler told FranAnne, moving past her and into a small cafeteria, where Sam, Jefferson, and Peter Valkenberg, stood with the children. The twins stood next to the big German, both holding onto each other, while Anthony held Meredith. Sam Fong had his hand on Ben Rollins’ shoulder. Zack, Dustin, and Heather stood together against a wall. Kyler did a double take upon seeing Lauren and Joe together. She was wiping what looked to be blood off of his face and mouth with several wet paper towels. Joe was sitting on his haunches, allowing Lauren to scrub his face. He doubted if too many other people could get away with scrubbing his muscular jowls too hard without losing a hand, or at least a digit. For Kyler, that image was the first decent thing that he’d seen in weeks, and it wasn’t going to get to last.
“Come on, Gang,” Kyler told the group, trying to force a smile. Let’s get to the trucks, but stay together. Got it?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Let’s go!”
Potts remained on the hood of the black SUV, trying to watch both the traffic jam, which was steadily getting worse, mainly because these panicky crackers couldn’t drive through a hole, and keeping his eye peeled for any werewolves. Potts could barely hear the baying and howling over the din of the cars trying to exit the parking lot, but he could hear it…back and forth in all directions now.
He heard someone clear their throat on the ground next to him.
“Excuse me, Colonel.”
Potts recognized the voice. It was the woman sheriff. Potts looked down to see Mary Sue Carter, one hand on her hip, the other shielding her eyes from the sun. Must be bright if a Stetson won’t keep the sun out of your eyes.
“Where are you sending these people, Colonel?” Mary Sue yelled up at him. “Now, you can scream and yell and threaten me all you want…you caught me off guard last time, but now I know what a loud mouth piece of shit you are, I’m ready for you. Now, what in the…”
Potts shut her up quickly…not with any type of force, but with the extension of his hand, which he held down in front of her. Mary Sue had barely gotten the “fu…” out when she saw it. The sun hid his face. She looked at the hand one more time, and then took it. Mary Sue put her right boot on the bumper and pulled herself up onto the hood of the truck. Actually, she did very little pulling. She’d found herself quite surprised at Potts’ strength. He pulled her completely onto the truck. She landed up against his chest. Boy, this man was built. When they both settled, the shocks groaned from the weight and so did the owner.
“Sheriff, have you been listening to those howls?” Potts asked her quietly, pulling her to him by the elbow, and both looking toward the back of the hospital.
“Yes,” Mary Sue answered quietly.
“Well, I think we both know what they are…am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now that’s settled. Just think of it this way, Sheriff. Everything…everything that’s happened here…all of this craziness that’s happened in your nice, peaceful little town…all of the deaths, all of the destruction, the reason I am here, is due to the antics of three of these things…two large, and one small. Three of them. A minute ago, we counted seven of them…and that doesn’t include if the other three are still around.”
“Seven of ‘em…shit.”
“Exactly. That’s why all of those soldiers are lined up and ready to dance. Now what I’m trying to do here is get everyone out of here any way that they can. I’m telling them to drive as far away as possible. Don’t stop for gas, food, anything…just drive.”
Before he could finish, they heard another set of howls…one from the woods and one off to their right.
“Those came from a different direction,” Potts whispered over the din of the cars. “Maybe there are more than seven.”
“No…my guess is that it’s the same ones…they’re just moving. I’ve been around wolves my whole life, Colonel. I grew up in these woods, and one thing I learned from all that time in the woods with my grampa, was that wolves are smart, and will either lure their prey to them or…”
“Surround them,” Potts interrupted. “So, basically they are talking to each other
“Yes, Sir.”
“Sheriff, if I were you,” Potts started, “I’d hop in your squad car, turn on the lights and siren, and hightail that pretty little ass of yours out of town now, and start a new life somewhere far away from here.”
“Well, Colonel,” Mary Sue came back, now looking at Potts’ one eye, “I’ve tried life somewhere else, and turned out worse off than when I left, so I reckon I’ll see this one out until the end.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Potts’ eye glimmer and the corner of his mouth turn up a little. She turned to jump off of the truck, when Potts stopped her.
“What is it, Colonel?” Mary Sue asked, looking back at the man.
“You look just like the whore in Risky Business.”
“I get that a lot,” she returned, smiling, before jumping off of the truck. “All right, we’ve got about ten minutes before the shit hits the fan!” she yelled at the crowd. “Come on, Folks! Let’s get these cars out of here…Earl, get your skinny ass over there and help!”
Potts watched the ballsy little sheriff run to the front of the line of cars, move the soldiers aside who had been trying to direct the traffic, and take over.
“Come on, Mike Walker!” she yelled. “Get that Mustang out of here! Go! Nicole Smith, get your skinny little ass and your car moving! C’mon!”
Potts jumped off of the vehicle just as Kyler, FranAnne, Sam, and Peter were leading the children out.
“Get ‘em in the trucks, Dr. Kyler! ASAP! Fulton! Jefferson! Take three soldiers and form a back line! We might be getting surrounded! Move!”
Potts ran to the weapons trucks, which were already started and waiting for Potts’ orders. He started to stop at the military weapons truck, then smiled, and ran to the non-military weapons truck, where he was met by Peter Valkenberg and Pvt. Williams, who was just placing a bandoleer around the big man’s chest.
“An Uzi and three automatic pistols,” Potts started, noticing the weaponry the man was carrying. “Do you know how to use any of these, Mr. Wahlberg?” Potts asked the man.
“Six years German Special Forces,” Peter answered, making sure all of his pistols were strategically placed.
“What do you do now…of you don’t mind me asking?”
“I give massages…and it’s Valkenberg, Colonel.”
“Well, Mr. Walkingbird, I’d deem an honor of you could hang around awhile and help out until we get all of these vehicles out of here.”
“Where do you want me, Colonel?” Peter asked, smiling.
“With that thing?” Potts replied, looking at the Uzi. “Nowhere near me.”
“So, it’s really werewolves and silver bullets then?”
Yes, Sir,” Potts replied, amused at the way Peter pronounced ‘werewolves’ as ‘veervoolves’. “and they’re harder to kill than Rasputin, so pick a spot, we’ve only got about ten minutes left.”
Potts was about to walk away, when Kyler approached him.
“Colonel Potts?”
“What is it, Kyler?”
“Colonel, some of these patients can’t be driven at a fast rate of speed, especially with the roads being the way they are.”
“Kyler, it’s either that or they stay…and no, you will not stay with ‘em if they do stay.”
“Could you…requisition one of the ambulances?”
“How many are there?”
“Two.”
“Consider them bo
th requisitioned, but didn’t I see them parked right next to the hospital.”
“Yes, we’ll be last, but we’ll have your ten trucks behind us.”
“I don’t know,” Potts said, looking over at the road where Mary Sue and Earl were getting them out of there quick, but there were still close to twenty cars to be moved, and the sun was going down by the minute. “You might be cutting it close.” Kyler nodded his head and began to run away. “Oh, Kyler,” Potts said, waving him back over.
“What is it, Colonel?” Kyler was a little confused at the man’s calm with the sun going down.
“Here,” Potts grunted, reaching into the back of the truck. Kyler moved in close to him, then looked up at Williams and shrugged. Williams managed a short giggle, which sort of creeped Kyler out, and more than a little.
“Take this.” From out of the truck, Potts pulled a black revolver and held it out to Kyler.
“Oh no…no…no…no…no…no…no…” Kyler muttered, moving backwards, his hands in the air.
“Take it,” Potts said gruffly, pushing it closer to him.
“In case you don’t remember, Colonel, I lost the one you gave me on the island, and the one time I tried to use one of those Uzi things, I pretty much shot everything but what I was shooting at.”
“You can’t miss with this one,” Williams said, taking the gun from Potts’ hand, an audacious thing for anyone to do in Kyler’s opinion. “It’s a Tec…”
“Corporal, you’re wasting your time. Kyler, it’s a pistol that goes boom when you pull the trigger. Here.”
“Don’t be afraid of it, Doctor.”
“I’m not afraid of them, Corporal, I’m just not any good at using them.”
“Here,” Williams said gently. “This is the safety here…on…off. When your gun is empty, push this little thing here, and it will release the clip like this, and you replace it with another one.”
