by Terry Yates
Denny sat in the police cruiser, the same cruiser that just an hour before had a lady werewolf on top of it. The roof was caved in so much that the only place to sit was the driver’s seat. Even though there was a big hole in the roof, and it was dark outside, it was muggy inside the car. He could feel drops of sweat falling off of his long black hair. He reached up and found the keys and started the ignition. The engine came to life, but it knocked and pinged. That couldn’t be good. He reached over and found the fan switch and flipped it to the on position. As the fan came on, he pushed the lever all the way over to blue. Fingers crossed, he waited for a few moments. At first, there was nothing but hot air, but after a few seconds, it began to blow cool. He closed his eyes and stuck his head in front of both dashboard vents and let the cold air blow across his face. He didn’t know why he had taken up for Rhonda Weaver when the Colonel asked her about her wound. He only remembered that there was a shitload of torn flesh and lots of blood.
Denny reached down and pushed a button. Suddenly, the stereo console lit up with different colored lights. Denny waited for the stereo to begin to blast, but instead, the loud hissing of dead air came over the airwaves. He found the ‘Scan’ button and pushed it. Radio station numbers flew by, none in range yet. He would let it scan until it landed on a station. He reached down next to him and turned on the radio that Potts had given him. He would see if he could reach anyone by radio, while simultaneously scanning the airwaves for news of what was happening in Harmonville or at least, L.A. All he could think of at that moment, was that his family was somewhere else on the West Coast other than L.A.
CHAPTER 59
Simon pressed his face against the glass. All he had to do was to push hard against it. With his newfound strength, he could have shattered it easily, but things weren’t quite in place yet. He knew that something was up, because almost everyone, hospital staff, soldiers, and cops, were gathered in front of a large Plasma television that was hanging off of the wall, but it was just out of Simon’s eye-line, so he couldn’t see it. He stuck his ear to the glass, but still nothing. Simon guessed that once you turn, you’re pretty normal again until nighttime, ‘cause he couldn’t hear shit at the moment like he could just before his first Turning. He had noticed that he had been able to retain some of the werewolf strength during the day, but not like it was when he turned.
Something was happening on the TV, because he would hear a shriek once in a while, telling him that something big was going on. The clock on the wall read 5:52. Just a few more hours until dark, and then Jiminy Xmas, the shite was going to hit the oscillator.
One of the nurses moved to the right, and Simon caught a quick glimpse of the screen, but all he saw was the name ‘Oklahoma’. Ah, what was going on in Oklahoma that was causing so much stress that no one was paying attention to them?
He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Yes, there were more of his kind…he could feel it…not like he could when they were up close like they were now, but he could feel his kindred, and there were several of them. Hmm…maybe one day, he’ll take a trip to Oklahoma. Being a Texan, there’s always been a bit of a dislike between the two states, mainly because of an annual football game, but he’d make the trip one day…but for now, he had more pressing things to deal with. He looked at the room. Everyone was in bed and mostly under the covers. Good.
He leaned his ear to the glass to see if he could pick anything up with his newfound hearing. Damn, they made Quarantine glass thick! He tried to listen to the television or to the staff’s voices, but all he could hear were their hearts beating. Yep, there was gonna be another full one again tonight. Several of his bite victims were already going through the boiling blood spasms, which the staff was having trouble diagnosing. Just ask the Texan…he’ll give you the diagnosis.
Simon saw the little philly of a soldier whom he’d scared, and of course, Mr. Taggert, the he-man soldier who came to her rescue. The girl’s heart was almost beating out of her chest…and so was Taggert’s, but his was different. Young Mr. Taggert wanted to rumble, did he?
For just a moment, several of the heads that were in front of the television moved, and he saw a quick glimpse of a picture of a werewolf with fiery yellow eyes that was staring at the camera. He wondered if the photographer survived the incident. The picture was there for only a moment before the camera switched back to a lady newscaster, and then it went to a commercial. Everyone in front of the television began to move away. He saw one of the doctors motion toward the Quarantine door to a soldier and an orderly, who both nodded and walked to the door.
One of the orderlies, flipped the outside lights switch as the doctor, several nurses and orderlies, along with several soldiers, including Taggert himself, whose silhouette stood in the doorway, rifle across his chest, at the ready, entered the crowded area.
“Turn on the lights,” the doctor said softly.
“They’re aren’t working, Doctor, “ the orderly replied, still flipping the light switch on and off.
“Is there any sort of emergency backup?” the doctor asked.
“That’s not the problem,” a soldier told them, looking up at the light fixtures. “The lights have been knocked out.”
“Broken?” the doctor asked, taking his glasses off and taking a look at the light fixtures himself.
“The security cameras are gone, too,” a nurse added.
“Where was Security while all of this was going on?” The doctor asked an orderly.
“We’ve been short around here, Doctor,” an orderly replied, “ plus, no one is sure really what’s going on. There are scores of outside help around here, and no one’s sure who’s doing what anymore.”
“There’s too many chiefs and not enough Indians around here,” came a voice from the darkness.
The group looked up to see Simon walking out of the darkness.
“That’s the thing about not knowing who’s in charge,” he continued, still walking toward the group. There’ll be eight people in one place and none in the other.”
“You need to get back into bed, Sir,” an orderly told him.
Simon looked at the group as he continued toward them.
“Now, take my bunch here…” he continued, still moving toward the group.
“Sir, you heard the man,” Taggert started, removing his gun from across his chest, to waist high. “You need to get back to bed.”
“They know who the leader of the pack is here,” he finished as he reached the group. He saw that Taggert had raised his rifle up about six inches, now aiming at Simon from the chest.
“You need to get back to bed, Sir,” Taggert said, lifting the gun a few more inches. “I’m not going to say it again,”
“Good,” Simon came back, smiling. “Then we won’t have to hear it again.”
“Sir…” Taggert muttered menacingly.
Ooh, this boy wanted to go to town, Simon thought to himself. He continued smiling, then raised his hands to his shoulders in surrender, and began to back up. Taggert kept the gun aimed at Simon as he neared his bed on the back wall. As he moved farther away from the group, they began to move farther into the room, followed by several more silhouettes that had been standing in the hallway. Good enough for Texas, Simon thought to himself.
“All right, Wolfpack!” he screamed. “There’s gonna be a full moon tonight! Some of you will turn and some of you won’t until the next one…but for now, let’s raise some hell! Yee! Haw!”
With this, Simon let out a loud whistle. Immediately, the bite victims jumped out from under their covers and began to swarm the group from all three sides. They yelled and whooped as they began to claw and bite the staff. Almost all of the bite victims now had the large brown eyes, and newfound strength. They had remained under the covers on Simon’s telepathic orders. He wanted it to be just the right moment before they made their move. He’d wanted to wait until dark and just let them all find out the fun way what exactly was going on their little ‘horse-pital’, b
ut…as his Uncle James used to say…”You wish in one hand and shit in the other, then tell me which one fills up first”.
The doctor and one of the orderlies went down first. Two bite victims…an old man and an old woman, pounced on them before they had time to react. The doctor didn’t last long. The old man was already chewing on him before he hit the ground. The old woman was howling as she rode the orderly’s back, him trying to shake her, but having no luck. The old woman reached down and took a bite out of the orderly’s shoulder, causing him to scream in pain, but it didn’t last long, because at that moment, two more bite victims, once young men, hit the screaming orderly low and took him to the floor.
The screams were deafening as soldiers and orderlies ran into the room, but most were meeting the same fate as the previous soldiers and orderlies. They were being tossed around like rag dolls.
Taggert had his rifle raised, and was aiming at a demi-wolf that had once been a teenaged girl. Suddenly, his rifle flew from his hands. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of Simon’s face, but it was just a glimpse, because he found himself against one of the walls. The bed that had been there was gone now and was being used to beat an orderly and a nurse.
“Well, well, Mr. Taggert,” Simon chuckled. “You like ‘em young, too, I can see.”
Simon held the soldier up against the wall by his chin. Ah, the boy’s heart was really racing now, but this time, it was fear that was causing it to race. He wasn’t such a badass anymore.
“Please don’t bite me!” Taggert pleaded.
“Bite you?” Simon laughed, bringing the man down a few inches and closer to eye-level. “Bite you? Do you honestly think that I would give you immortality, Son? Actually, what I’m gonna do is just about the direct opposite.”
Simon grabbed the man’s genitals and pulled…
He left the bleeding and crying Taggert on the floor, rolled up in a ball, and a pool of blood. He looked up to see that the room was empty of his pack, not so, many of the hospital staff. There were corpses strewn about, and Simon had a stinking suspicion that the hallways were gonna be full of a few, too.
Yep, he was right. As he stepped out into the hallway, he had to step over several mangled corpses. Shit, they didn’t play in LaLa Land, did they? Men, women, children…they were all over the place.
The hospital was in total chaos now. Everyone was running every which way, and Simon was loving it. He wanted The El Lobo Hombre Pack to wreak as much havoc as possible. Hit the prisons…ooh…that’ll be good…and the mobsters and the gangsters and the cops…all of them.
People were screaming and running blindly in all directions. A cop, gun drawn, was sprinting past Simon when he grabbed him by the arm, causing the cop to stop suddenly.
“What the…?” the cop scowled, trying to pull away from Simon.
“You look about my size,” he told the officer, eyeing him up and down.
In the blink of an eye, Simon reached up and snapped the man’s neck, turning it almost completely around, then he tossed the corpse through the restroom door and followed it inside.
He exited the restroom looking, in his own humble opinion, quite smart in his new police clothes. People were still running and screaming in all directions. Blood and other things covered the once white walls and floors. Jesus Elvis Christ, it was gonna take a hell of a cleaning crew to clean this sumbitch.
Simon especially got a kick out of watching the soldiers, orderlies, and cops, running frightened, or at least confused, in all directions. He saw the body of the woman soldier that he had frightened earlier, lying naked on the floor, her lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Half of her cheek and one breast were gone, and one leg was twisted up under her body. Shame, he thought. He’d wanted her for himself, but he’d been a day late and a dollar short. She’d probably let out one hellacious scream before they went to town on her.
“Please, Officer! Help!”
Simon turned around as he felt two sets of hands grabbing onto him. He looked down to find ‘S. Rashvi-MD’ and ‘N. Garcia-RN’, the British talking Indian doctor and her Hispanic nurse. Both were looking pleadingly into his face.
“Well hello, Ladies!” Simon exclaimed loudly, grinning a wide grin.
It took the ladies a few seconds to recognize him, but after a few seconds of looking up into Simon’s face, they remembered him.
“You’re a police officer?” Dr. Rashvi asked, frightened, both she and the nurse shaking.
Yes, these dolls were truly scared shitless. Their little ol’ hearts were about to pound of their chests. The little lights began to swirl around their faces. Uh oh. The little fireflies were doing some heavy duty fluttering and the light was becoming extremely bright.
“Nope,” Simon replied, grabbing them each roughly by the arm.
“Wha…?” the nurse squealed.
“Remember, I did warn you ladies,” Simon reminded them, smiling.
Simon left S. Rashvi-MD and N. Garcia-RN in one of the men’s locker rooms. Shortly afterward, he had come up behind Erin Schulman, the nurse that had been so nice to him the day before. He left her in one of the labs.
It had been a few minutes, but he was surprised to find the hospital so empty. They must’ve taken the brawl outside, because he could hear sirens, gunfire and screaming outside. Yep, they’d taken the party outdoors. There were a few skirmishes still going on inside, but for the most part, it was just the wounded screaming and writhing and raising all kinds of hell. He reckoned that come next full moon, some of these would be his…or his grandchildren. Shit, he wasn’t but thirty-one, and here was having grandkids. He felt like Loretta Fuckin’ Lynn.
When he stepped outside, he was met with a beautiful red, albeit smoggy, sky. Anarchy was abounding up and down the hospital grounds, the sidewalks, and the streets. Cops and soldiers were shooting almost everything that ran their way. Good thing he was dressed like one.
He saw several of his pack running away. Good. Don’t hang around. Go up into Mulholland! Go into the Hollywood Hills! Run! He observed a truck full of soldiers pulling into the hospital parking lot, and out they jumped, all screaming and yelling and “Hut! Hut! Huttin’”. Several soldiers spun around toward Simon, rifles at the ready. He raised his hands, smiled, and pointed to the badge on his shirt. The soldiers dropped their weapons and began to run toward the hospital. Simon shook his head, chuckled, and began to whistle as he began to walk down the sidewalk. Cars were screeching to a halt in the street. Pedestrians and, unfortunately a few of his own, flew through the air, landing on top of both cars and concrete. Simon watched as a car that was headed toward the hospital tried to evade one of his pack grunting, panting, and howling. He/it had once been a young man in his mid-twenties, but now was a deformed, twisted, brown-eyed, sharp-toothed creature that was still trying to attack another car victim, who was barely conscious after both were struck by a Lexus. The soon-to-be-werewolf’s waist was twisted almost behind him, but still he/it wanted the car victim.
Simon stood on the sidewalk and surveyed his work. Everyone was now fighting each other. He saw a cop turn around and shoot a soldier who was coming to his aid. As soon as he shot the soldier, several of the bite victims, swarmed over the cop, taking him to the ground. He watched as the wounded struggled to stop their bleeding. Wasting your time, Simon thought. You’ll be right as right tomorrow.
Simon stood for a moment longer as dozens of people ran amuck in all directions. This is what life is all about for a country boy. Kickin’ ass and takin’ names. He continued to whistle as he approached an empty police car, still running with emergency lights on.
“Hope it’s got air conditioning,” Simon said aloud as he opened the car door and got in. He didn’t really know LA that well. He guessed he’d just drive around and scare himself up some trouble for the next hour, plus. But where to first, he wondered…then suddenly it him. He would see if he could find Werewolf Harry.
CHAPTER 60
Mary Sue looked down at her new western r
evolver as she sat on one of the benches in the truck that the fat corporal was driving and Col. Potts was riding shotgun. She and Rex had decided to even up the trucks and each ride as tail-gunners, so Rex rode in the weapons truck while she rode in the rations truck. The bed was almost filled to the ceiling with boxes of rations of all kinds. Powdered cereal, powdered milk, powdered eggs…
Both Mary Sue and Rex both seemed to relax when it was suggested that they each ride ‘drag’. They had both been dreading riding alone together. The quiet between them would be unbearable. She thought about the night before. Damn, had it only been a day since Harmonville went to crap?
Werewolves…she was dealing with werewolves. Men, women, AND children were turning into walking wolves. She checked the cylinder of her pistol. Silver bullets…she was actually carrying silver bullets. She wanted to laugh, but the joke would be lost to the four winds, because she probably knew, and had grown up with everyone she had shot at, or would shoot at. She’d seen a few of the dead bite victims after they’d been killed. She had tried to ignore the bodies, but not before recognizing Henry L. Lee a local Indian, whom she and Rex had almost had to jump over as they were running to the police car.
She looked up and saw the lights from the other truck coming just over the hill. She wondered what Rex was thinking at that moment. Looking back down at her gun, she couldn’t help but think of the man riding shotgun…this Col. Potts. She’d almost wrecked the cruiser after having watched him jump on it just to get a better shot at the werewolf. That was the ballsiest thing she’d ever seen any human do…and he did it with one eye…at night! Denny had said that he looked like Spider Man…especially with the bandaged face and all. His spiked white flattop hair somehow gave him the air of authority, as did the eye-patch. She wondered what had happened to his face. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it probably had something to do with these werewolves. You could tell that he’d dealt with them before. He never batted an eye…or his eye. At first, she thought that she was going to go at it with him like she had with the soldiers in the truck, but he let her know REAL quick who was in charge, and really didn’t give a damn how she felt about it or how it affected her. As angry as she had been with him, she had gained a sudden respect for him. He’d laid down the law and that was it. She thought she’d just learned a lesson about leadership. You let them know who the boss is quick, and you let them know that things were going to be done one way…yours. She felt safe with him in charge. She reached up blindly and put her hand in a box. She felt around, grabbed, and then pulled out a package of Pop-Tarts…cherry, if she wasn’t mistaken. She tore open the cellophane and broke off a corner of the breakfast treat. She sniffed it, and then put it in her mouth. Not bad, she thought, breaking off some more.
