by Terry Yates
“Kyler,” Potts started, finally managing to get into a sitting position, “that metal isn’t going to stop a forty-four caliber bullet.”
Kyler looked up at the bullet holes, which were now allowing the raindrops to fall through. The grouping was impeccable.
“Why do you like a .45 better?” he asked.
“Because the holes are bigger, that’s why! Now someone find me a radio! Potts answered.
CHAPTER 79
Simon stretched his arms out and lifted his head to the sky. He wanted to yell “I’m king of the world!” but he thought better of it. He smiled as he sniffed the air. It still stank like shit, but it was ten times better than it had been yesterday. Weather anomalies had begun to occur all the way down the Pacific Coast. The tides were down…not completely, but enough to keep the surfers on the beach. It had rained earlier in the day, washing away much of the pollution. Simon couldn’t figure it all out, and he really didn’t care. The Lobo WAS King of the World…for the moment, anyway. Kings seldom stayed kings…in the animal world, anyway. Someone always came along and dethroned the Leader of the Pride, either through age or having been bested in a fight. But since this was his moment, he was going to take advantage of it.
It was almost dusk, and he knew/felt that the moon would be full again tonight.
“Howdy Folks!” he yelled to the crowd below him. “How’s yer’ ma and ‘em?”
The crowd cheered up at him. Simon was standing on a giant billboard that was pushing Angelina Jolie’s new movie. He’d spent most of the day in the little cul-de-sac, where he sated himself on two teenaged girls and their MILF of a mother. The father/husband and the brother/son attempted to save the bitches, but had found themselves in the afterlife in the blink of a cow’s eye. He’d taken a long time with the females…he just hadn’t been able to get rid of the fireflies for a long time. They died for hours, each begging and screaming for him to spare their lives, but as usual, it had done no good…for the two daughters, anyway. He’d only bitten the MILF. She was only a few years older than his own thirty-one…maybe thirty-seven or thirty-eight. It looked like she and her husband had their daughters young, and then just spent the rest of their lives going to the country club, patronizing the theatre, and giving shitloads of money to whatever private school their kids went to.
Normally, one killing wore him out after all of the things that he did to his victims, but he could’ve done the three of them in an hour, but he kept them alive for as long as he could, until finally, they couldn’t take it anymore and gave up the ghost. Not only did he not need a nap after he was done, but he found himself looking into the neighbor’s home for a possible dessert, which is exactly what the family looked like through the glass windows…great big pastries on display. Just like the cartoon wolf, he found himself licking his chops as he ogled another family. There were at least six in this family, and four of them killable females. He didn’t kill children…if he could keep from it. Even psychopaths had certain morals, he guessed. If he had to kill one as a witness, that was one thing, but he never enjoyed it. Now, once they were ripe and juicy, they were free for the plucking. Simon could see that the whole family was home, and that they were preparing to leave in a hurry. He wanted the ladies, but he thought better of it. Best not push it, he thought. Best leave while the getting’s good.
And now he stood atop the huge sign…with flakes of snow falling around him, and over a hundred people standing below him. Many had become werewolves the night before, and many were about to turn. He saw some very unsavory characters down there. Must be some of the Chino boys, and he even saw D’Andre and Tino, his first victims. Good. Good. Two police helicopters were circling around him as well as a news chopper..
“How are you?” Simon screamed down at the crowd. He was met by a cheer from the throng, many of whom stood there naked, knowing that they were pretty much invincible from most forms of death. “This place is a citole, Folks!” he yelled. “We’ve got rain where there’s not supposed to be rain, and snow where there’s not supposed to be snow! Mother Nature’s pissed with this place, so let’s clean her up, and then send it straight to Hell!”
Just as the crowd below reached fever pitch, one of the Police helicopters began to hover in front of him.
“Please climb down the sign,” a soft voice said over the intercom.
Simon looked down at the crowd, smiled, then pointed his thumb toward the helicopter. Before anyone knew what was happening, Simon jumped at the helicopter, grabbing hold of the landing blades. The crowd roared as he hung in the air, smiling a toothy grin. They cheered even more as he climbed up onto the blade. He looked up to see a rifle aimed at him.
“Ha!” Simon laughed, before quickly reaching up with one hand and yanking both rifle and cop out of the helicopter. “See ya’ next fall!” he laughed as he watched the cop fall toward the mob below.
Still hanging on with one hand, he swung up onto the landing blade like an acrobat. Smiling, he leaned back next to the doorway as if hiding. A second cop, revolver in hand, stuck his head out of the window. When he saw Simon, he tried to lift his gun, but before he could, Simon slapped it out of his hand and grabbed him roughly by the neck. Then before the cop knew what was happening, Simon yanked him out of the chopper and pitched him…up into the blades. The cop was shredded in seconds, but parts of him were still in the blades, which caused the copter to start falling.
“Yee-haw!” Simon screamed as the helicopter fell to the Earth. When the doomed copter was back at billboard level, Simon, still grinning, jumped.
The crowd roared as he fell toward them. Before he landed, he did a back somersault, ending with a perfect three-point landing, much to the crowd’s delight. The helicopter crashed twenty yards behind him. Damn! He’d wanted to see a big-ass explosion, but all there was wreckage that some of the crowd was headed for. Best wait till the blades stop turning, he wanted to say.
“It’s almost dark, cowboys and cowgirls! Let’s see how much of this toilet we can clean up tonight! Go! Go! Go!” he screamed as a bullet whizzed by his ear. Son-of-a-bitch! Simon dropped to one knee and looked up. It was the other police copter firing down on him. Another bullet came close to his leg.
“Okay, Simon Shoals,” he said softly to himself. “Let’s see if you’ve still got the old moves.”
Simon came out of a crouch and began to run. Bullets whizzed all around him as he zigged and zagged like a panther, his superhuman dexterity making it hard for the cops to draw a bead on him, even with scopes and lasers. He heard another shot and saw a newbie take it in the gut. What the shit, he thought, looking back at the newbie who lay dead on the ground, a wisp of smoke exiting the wound. Another bullet went through his pant leg and nicked his skin. The son-of-a-bitch burned! He’d read about silver bullets, but really…silver bullets? He mulled it over while he continued zigzagging, and came to the conclusion that if there were such things as werewolves, why would killing them with silver bullets seem so strange.
As he dodged the bullets and the newbies, he came across D’Andre and several other soon-to-be-werewolves, relieving several dead cops of their weapons. Three of them had sneaked up behind the crowd with orders to shoot. They must’ve thought the crowd to be as they appeared…old men…young women…children…blacks…whites…Mexicans…Chinese, just harmless little people, but they were to find out soon enough that they’d been dead wrong. And they should’ve shot from farther away and not gotten so close, because they found out very quickly that they weren’t dealing with people anymore, they were dealing with a brand new species…well new to them anyway. There were three rifles and six pistols, both sidearm and leg, taken from the cops.
“Listen to me, fellas,” Simon started, putting his hand on D’Andre’s shoulder, who was holding one of the rifles. Simon took it from him and checked the ammunition. Silver. Okay, if the boys on the blue team want to scrimmage, we’ll give ‘em one with the exact same game plan. He replaced the bullet and handed back to D’Andr
e.
“Shoot that cop copter down!” he ordered them, grinning. “Bring it down good!”
The nine smiled and began shooting at the police chopper. Before the copter could turn around to flee, Simon saw the pilot catch a bullet to the head. Moments later, the helicopter begin to spin around in place as it fell to the ground. It crashed right side up, the blades still turning, but the copter itself looked squashed like a Slinky.
“Great shot, Boys!” he drawled, clapping D’Andre on the shoulder.
The news copter was turning around to flee, when the group pivoted and aimed at it. Simon pushed D’Andre’s rifle up into the air.
“Let ‘em go, Boys,” he told them. “We want them to tell everybody what they just saw.” The gang lowered their guns. “Now, let’s…”
Before he could finish, he heard the crack of a rifle. There was a sudden stinging in his right shoulder that sent him reeling backwards. The only thing that kept him from falling on his back was that he fell into a group newbies all running around with their bloodlusts on full throttle, all whipped into a frenzy of exhilaration and confusion. They all wanted to kill something, bless their hearts, but all they hide was each other.
Simon grunted as he pulled back his shirt to reveal a bullet hole in his shoulder, silver wisps of smoke coming out from it. He hissed as he reached back over his shoulder and felt for an exit wound. Yes! There was one. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about digging the mother out.
He blew one time on the wound, subconsciously trying to cool the stinging, then closed the shirt. He looked up, searching for the shooter. He didn’t even realize that he was emitting a low guttural growl, while his eyes scanned the horizon. And then he saw him…down on one knee, just taking his eye away from the scope of the rifle that he was aiming at him. It was a soldier. By the fatigues, he would guess Army. Yep. There was a green beret sitting atop his melon.
The two men, both still on one knee, stared at one another across the large, green field. Simon felt a sudden anger toward this man. It was like he knew him, although he’d never met him…or had he? Maybe it was just the fact that the man kept his eye trained on him with soon-to-be werewolves running amuck around him, attacking the soldiers that had now joined the fray. There were more police now as well. There had to be five hundred ‘people’ shooting and attacking each other, yet here he was, as cool as a cucumber on a witch’s nipple, although, he too, was looking back at Simon as if he recognized him, as well. It was driving Simon crazy trying to think of where he knew this dickhead from. His animal instincts told him that this wasn’t the first time that this soldier boy had caused him pain. Best not think about it for too long, he thought. He’d better get out while the getting’ was good, because this asshole had the upper hand for the next little while, but after that…well, we’d see who Kick Cock was around these here parts.
As if the soldier had read his mind, he lowered his eye to the laser scope just as Simon sprang out of his crouch, and landing on his feet just as a brown-eyed newbie that had once been an old woman, flew past him, dressed in a granny church dress, but she didn’t look like a granny. She looked like a crazed animal. She was screaming hysterically as she flew by him. Simon shot his arm out just as he heard the rifle crack. He grabbed the old woman by the back of the neck, lifted her up off of the ground, and then pulled her in front of him. He flinched from the force of the bullet’s impact, but was rather intrigued with the way the bullet made dull thud sound as it entered her forehead. It sounded like someone was shooting a honeydew melon. He dropped the corpse to the ground and looked at it. Who’d want to live forever as old anyway, he thought.
He heard another rifle crack, and immediately hit his stomach, the sound of the projectile flying over his head, and landing in the body of someone running behind him. He’d heard a short squawk, then nothing. When he looked up off of the ground, the soldier was gone, but Simon had a stinking suspicion that Soldier Boy had not run off, but was just looking for a better shot.
“Time to go, I reckon,” he said softly, still on his stomach and still looking ahead.
With the dexterity of an antelope/cheetah hybrid, Simon jumped up off of the ground and began to serpentine all the way across the field, dodging around and running through newbies, soldiers, and cops. The place was a madhouse now. Good!
Simon disappeared into a throng of passerbys who had been watching the debacle before the gunshots started ringing out. Once he was amidst the crowd, he looked around. The sky was getting darker, and the snow was falling harder, although it was still sixty degrees out.
“Howya’ doin’…gooda seeya’…” he stammered, moving in and out of the crowd, every once in a while looking over his shoulder for the Green Beret, but never seeing him. Damn, that little shithead had some cahoneies on him, he thought. Well, let’s see if they were still attached in another few hours.
Simon was looking forward to the evening. There was no telling how many new werewolves there would be tonight. Hundreds maybe…by tomorrow, who knew…thousands! The thought of the upcoming evening’s dais had him grinning from ear to ear as he found himself coming up behind two lovely ladies.
CHAPTER 80
Hurry up, Kyler!” Potts yelled over the rain, as he checked his weapons one more time. He could see and hear fire coming from the mountain.
Kyler was checking Sam for any injuries other than the knot that he received when the werewolf T-Boned the truck. Everyone else was all right, although Meredith did have a small cut on her hand, but nothing a Band-aid couldn’t fix.
“All done,” Kyler said, looking into Sam’s eyes for concussion one last time.
It was silent for the moment as the group looked up into the rocks.
“Kyler, you stay here,” Potts told them. “Fong, Fulton, Sheriff…let’s stay together as long as we can. There’s another of these sumbitches up there and it’s a big one! Come on!”
Kyler slid back into the back of the turned over truck with Denny, Anthony, and Meredith. It would give them shelter from the storm, and hopefully from the werewolf. Potts only left him the one pistol. The four of them tried to find what dry place they could, since Potts had blown several air holes in their new ceiling. Kyler had discovered that either the wind or the crash caused them to lose the canvas flap that hung down from the top of the truck.
“Dr. Kyler?” Denny asked over the rain that was pelting down on the against the truck metal.
“Yeah, Denny?” he answered.
“What do we do?”
“We stay right here till Potts comes back.”
“We sthtay wight here till Poots comes back!” Anthony parroted.
“Exactly.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?” Denny asked, hating to be a drag, but he was scared now, and he wanted to hear some good news. “What if none of them come back?”
Kyler hadn’t even thought of that. What if none of them did come back?
“I don’t know what to tell ya’, Denny,” Kyler finally answered, too tired to lie. “I’m not even going to worry about that right now. I’m just going to sit here, and nothing short of God or an earthquake is going to move me.”
“No! Wait! Stop!” came a voice from outside over the rain. “Stop!”
Shit. It was Lauren…
CHAPTER 81
After Joe ran off, the twins suddenly become nervous because of all the gunfire that they’d been hearing over the last several minutes. Lauren had tried to quiet them, but the more time went by, the more nervous they seemed to become, until finally, they said something to her in German. Normally, she had a good grasp on the Germanic languages, but over the rain, she couldn’t hear a thing. The twins both threw up their hands, trying to get through to her, but they just talked too fast. Then, before Lauren even knew what was happening, the twins, like Joe before them, were running into the mountains.
“No!” she screamed. “Wait! Stop! Achtung!”
Getting no answer, she watched through the bright moonlight as the
twins ran toward the rocks. Just before they reached them, they disappeared into the shadows.
“Wait!” Lauren screamed again.
A lightning bolt flashed across the sky, giving Lauren enough light to see that the twins were climbing up into the rocks.
“Oh no-o-o…” she began to whimper. “No-o-o.”
Lauren was standing out in the rain all alone now, and she was frightened.
“Fight it!” she told herself. “You’re an eleven year-old-girl on the biggest adventure of your life! You’re on an adventure!” She slapped her face a few times. “Adventure! Adventure! Adventure! You’re on an adventure!” She slapped herself several more times before mustering up the courage to follow Werner and Astrid. She gazed all around looking for any signs of yellow eyes. She hadn’t heard gunshots in a while. She hoped that the silence belonged to the werewolves and not her friends.
“And off we go,” she squeaked, searching the mountains one last time for signs of life, before trotting toward the mountains.
It only took a few minutes for Lauren to reach the rocks, passing the wrecked truck and the dead werewolf, which had now become the corpse of a middle-aged man, lying still, his eyes open, and a bullet hole in his forehead.
She stood at the base of a mountain range, looking for a couple of German twins in the dark and in the rain. As she watched for any sign of movement from the twins, something moved up in the rocks a couple of hundred feet away.
“Wait! No! Stop!” she screamed up into the rocks. Whatever it was, disappeared behind some rocks. “Wait!”
Lauren had only taken one step up into the rocks before she was yanked backward like a rag doll! She began to fight, until she realized that it was Dr. Kyler’s shin that she was kicking and not a werewolf’s.
