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The Hybrid Series | Book 2 | Hunted

Page 18

by Stead, Nick

Jim shook his head, his brow furrowed and his eyes full of suspicion as they glanced my way. I stared down at my drink. “There’s something not right about him. Covered in blood like that – he should be dead by now, if it’s really all his. And what happened to his clothes? Something is very wrong here.”

  The landlady’s expression turned stubborn. “He doesn’t even look sixteen yet. I won’t turn away an innocent boy.”

  Jim reached across for the woman’s hand. “Please, Janet. We shouldn’t get involved. At least call the authorities and let them deal with it.”

  A roar went up from the table next to me. The humans were too merry to stay subdued for long, and her reply was lost in the noise.

  My gaze remained fixed on my drink, wishing it were something stronger. Movement caught my eye and I looked up to find paranormal hunter and wannabe werewolf, Luke.

  “You again. How did you find me this time?”

  “Never mind that,” he said, his face serious as he took the seat beside me. “I know you’re in trouble and I know the people hunting you have been out in force tonight.”

  “How can you possibly know about the Slayers? Have you been following me too?”

  “There’s no time for questions now. I meant what I said before: I want to help you.”

  “Why? I already told you I can’t pass on the curse.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a fan of werewolves. A werewolf friend is cooler than nothing, even if I can’t be a werewolf myself. Let me help you.”

  I was still wary, and I became aware of fresh eyes on me. Jim was casting me more suspicious looks, and Janet glanced across with concern. I pretended not to notice, keeping my gaze on Luke’s earnest face.

  “It’s not safe,” I said. “You’ll only be putting yourself in danger. Should we even be talking? I’ve already caused a stir, turning up here looking like this. The fact that there just happens to be someone here who seems to know me is only going to raise more questions.”

  “Maybe, but I think you have bigger problems. See over there, that blond guy sitting right by the door? He’s one of the Slayers.”

  “And how could you possibly know that?”

  Impatience crept into his features. “Use your nose if you don’t believe me. Surely you must be able to smell the gunpowder with your wolfish senses.”

  I glanced across at the man Luke had indicated and tried to be subtle about sniffing the air. There did seem to be a hint of gunpowder, but if he was indeed a Slayer then why hadn’t he made a move and why were there not more of them? Unless he just happened to be in the pub that night and it was coincidence we’d crossed paths. I’d not really thought about them in their everday lives much before, but I guessed they needed their nights off too. He must know who and what I was though. Then I remembered the text I’d heard as I’d entered and the thought crossed my mind that even if he was on his own, he could well still be in contact with others in the area. They could be moving into position for another co-ordinated attack even as I sat there thinking about it.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “Don’t you think it’s too late for that?”

  “And what would you have me do, attack him? I’d have to kill them all, or at least incapacitate them and leave the wounded for the Slayers to deal with.”

  “You already have blood on your hands – what’s a little more to you?”

  “Why do you care?” I couldn’t keep the suspicion from my voice.

  He gave me a sideways look, his face twisting into a sly grin. “Maybe I just want to see you in action.”

  Before I could ask him anything else, something drew my attention back to the humans at the bar.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Janet,” Jim was saying. “I’m off. I want no part in this. It’s getting late now, anyway.”

  He turned to leave, throwing me an angry look on his way to the door. I didn’t even try to make my expression human. The warmth of the pub might have chased the numbness from my limbs, but I still felt cold and dead inside. And this latest brush with humanity wasn’t helping.

  Whatever part of me the music had called to, it was already fading. I’d been a fool to think I could find anything more in the pub than suspicion and distrust. Even clean and dressed, I would’ve been out of place due to my apparent age and the lateness of the hour. All I’d succeeded in was adding to my misery, the reaction of the locals a harsh reminder that I would never be one of them again. I was the outsider and would be forever more.

  “Do it,” Luke mouthed at me. “You know you want to.”

  Did I? My stomach growled. Yes, I supposed I did. Maybe the full moon would let me tap into the bloodlust again. It seemed worth another try.

  I glanced at the Slayer still sitting by the door, but he remained impassive, giving no sign he’d recognised me or intended to mount his own attack. Maybe Luke was mistaken and he wasn’t one of them after all. In any case, he didn’t seem to be an immediate threat. No, if there was to be more bloodshed that night then I would start with this man, Jim.

  My gaze slid back to my target. He’d almost reached the door when one of the other men called out to him, and he paused to bid them good night. Time to make my move.

  I cast off the blanket like I cast off my brief pretence at humanity and charged my victim, crashing into him before any of the others had chance to react. He landed face down, but I didn’t quite manage to pin him there before he lashed out.

  His foot connected with my leg, dislodging me long enough to twist round in an attempt to defend himself. It made no difference. I got my weight on his body and held his arms behind his head, lowering my mouth to his ear.

  “Your instincts were right – I am a monster,” I whispered.

  His eyes widened, his nose wrinkling. I must have stunk of carnage. Around us, the other customers were starting to make sounds of alarm and I heard one or two chairs push backwards. They were too slow. My hand had already balled into a fist and I struck.

  I tried so hard to be angry, to act as violently as I knew how. My first drew back again and again, beating his head into the wooden floor with all of my unnatural speed and strength. He was dead within seconds, his skull no match for my brutality. Blood streamed as his face caved in. A gory crater remained, a bowl of blood and brains I would have happily lapped from if it hadn’t been for the need to reawaken the bloodlust. But that dark pleasure remained lost in the nothingness, and I rose from my victim to take another.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of Luke quietly egging me on. Jim lay twitching at my feet, his friends rushing to help him. A couple of guys in their twenties pulled their phones out and started filming. Others sat frozen with shock.

  I roared and lashed out at the first guy to make a grab for me, sending him flying into a nearby table. His head struck the edge with a loud crack. A trickle of crimson wove its way out from his hairline and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

  The next man wouldn’t get off so lightly. He got his fingers around my scrawny bicep and attempted to drag me back, as though he thought pulling me away from Jim would still do some good. I twisted and sank my fangs into his forearm, ripping away a chunk of flesh. He fell back with a cry of agony, blood spurting between his fingers as he clutched his limb and stared at the wound in horror. Then the screaming started.

  It was in that moment the Slayer finally came to life. I heard him slide the bolt across the door, then wood creaked as he pushed a table over to barricade us in. That wouldn’t be enough to keep me in the building but I assumed he meant to slow me, giving him longer to attempt to make a killing shot. I was going to have to deal with him soon.

  The room descended into chaos. Most of the humans stampeded for the door but I caught several with ease, ripping limbs from their sockets and splattering blood over the walls and floor. It sprayed out in high arcs and pooled around my feet. Others would have made it to salvation, if it hadn’t been for the makeshift barrier slowing them down and the Slayer himself. The glint of m
etal drew my eye to the long knife he’d concealed in his jacket, now in his hand and slicing through flesh. People had yet to realise the threat he posed. They were too desperate to escape the first monster to appear in their midst, intent on pushing the table out of the way. The Slayer went to work cutting them down and the bodies piled up. It only added to the blockage.

  Some had the sense to try and call for help. They barely had time to dial the emergency services before I intervened, crushing their phones and then their lives.

  A few cowered under tables and prayed I would pass them by. They fared no better. There was nowhere to hide and I would spare none of them.

  Only Luke stayed in his seat, watching the horrific events unfolding as if this were no more than a horror movie. He showed no fear or revulsion, and he didn’t seem worried I might turn on him. That only heightened my suspicions.

  He had spoken the truth about the Slayer at least. Who else could the blond guy be? I glanced over at my enemy again. It was only a matter of time before we faced each other, but he’d not drawn his gun yet. And until he made a move to attack, I decided to carry on with the slaughter, hoping each new death would bring me closer to feeling something.

  Movement drew my attention back to another woman trying to make a run for it. I swiped at her with a clawed hand, carving deep furrows across her abdomen. She skidded and fell, screaming in agony as blood welled up in the gouges I’d made. Her top soaked up some of it but most spilled to the floor, mixing with the growing pool from my other victims.

  I watched something in the woman harden. She gritted her teeth and started to claw her way to the door, driven by the need to survive. There was no way she could have found the strength to break through the barricade, but she struggled on regardless, and I almost admired her strength. Then the Slayer met my eyes. His grip on his blade shifted, ready to stab it downwards when the woman came in range. She was going to die to one of us, and I’d be damned if I’d let him have her.

  I grabbed the woman’s legs and dug claws into smooth flesh, dragging her back to me. Her screams failed to summon the bloodlust but I tortured her anyway, gripping the edges of the gashes I’d made in her abdomen and pulling.

  Muscle tore and blood poured, my hands slick with that crimson life force as I reached in and ripped out her slippery guts. Still I felt nothing, even as her body convulsed and her life faded.

  A man found the courage to charge at me with an empty glass in hand, swinging it at my head. I caught it with ease and tore the glass from his grasp, throwing it aside. It landed amidst the carnage and shattered over the broken bodies. The man’s courage failed him and he whimpered.

  His screams added to the din as I plunged a hand into his chest, grabbing his heart and pulling it free. The muscular organ spewed blood as I bit into it, juices oozing out and spilling down my jaws. His body collapsed to the floor while I ate, eyes staring and mouth slack. So much for his heroism.

  The last of the humans were beginning to realise running for the door was a lost cause. They grabbed the chairs and attempted to break the windows so they could clamber out of this abattoir, but between myself and the Slayer, none lived long enough to succeed. One by one they fell, then it was just me and my enemy. And Luke, of course. His expression hadn’t changed as he sat taking it all in, though his face was now splattered with blood, just like mine. The Slayer was also covered in the blood of innocents, a reminder that he and those like him were every bit the monster I was.

  The Slayer drew his gun and took aim, but there was a grim look to him that suggested he expected to die. I wondered if he’d meant to sacrifice himself all along, so as to buy time for the large force hunting me to move in. If they had the place surrounded they stood more chance of killing me than he ever would have done alone. But just as I wasn’t prepared to go down without a fight, he was determined to make a last stand, and succeeded in firing off three shots before I was on him. None of them hit me, or Luke for that matter. That seemed strange when he’d been so intent on helping me butcher everyone else in there. Not that it really mattered in that moment. I was too focused on savaging him, until the last agonised breath rattled through his body. It almost left that same stillness and quiet as the one which had immediately followed my last massacre of the children, if it hadn’t been for Luke and the music continuing to play from the speakers. And yet the bloodlust still refused to take me, and with another bestial roar I fell to my knees, defeated.

  “Are you really so lost that you must continue to kill, even after confirming it won’t bring you any pleasure?”

  I opened my eyes to find the vision of Lizzy standing over me. Maybe vision was too grand a word for the product of my own tortured mind. I knew I was teetering on the brink of insanity once again, and she was no more than a hallucination to give voice to my innermost thoughts.

  My voice turned bitter. “What else is there for me now? My life has no purpose, so I might as well turn to death.”

  “You who could be so great, yet you continue to wallow in self-pity and slaughter needlessly. You have lost your way. Find new purpose, find the path you must walk, and perhaps at the end of it you will resurrect those emotions you believe dead to you.”

  “Like the real you ever talked with such wisdom,” I growled, and swiped at the image. She vanished as soon as my bloodied hand passed through her. With the hallucination gone, I realised the pub wasn’t as completely still and quiet as I’d thought. From behind the bar I could hear the pounding of another heart in the grip of fear, and a faint whimpering. I rose and went to investigate. The landlady, Janet, cowered beneath the pumps.

  She looked up and cringed. “Please. Please don’t kill me. I have a family. It’s the season of goodwill to all men. Please.”

  Only then did I notice the little Christmas tree in the corner. I’d had no idea it was that season again, too lost in my own inner darkness to think about what time of year it might be. The knowledge only added to my longing for my old life. I should’ve been back home with Mum and Amy, trying to guess what the wrapped presents under the tree could possibly hold and counting down the days till we could open them. Christmas Day would’ve been a time for double the celebrations, since it would also be my seventeenth birthday, despite the fact my body was stuck at fifteen. I turned back to Janet.

  “I’m not a man,” I said, letting a growl creep into my voice and my eyes turn amber. Before she even had chance to scream I snapped her neck, as quick and painless a death as I could manage in return for the kindness she’d shown me, but in no mood to let her live.

  With the last of the locals dead, I helped myself to a beer and sat for a while in the warmth, listening to the music and talking to Luke. There wasn’t even any pleasure to be had in that. The beer didn’t mix well with the taste of blood so thick on my tongue, and the air was heavy with the smell of the latest bloodbath I’d created, the room a gory mess no matter where I looked.

  Dead eyes seemed to bore into me, still wide with terror, mouths fixed in silent screams. Severed limbs reduced to no more than meaty bones lay scattered around, one with a hand still attached looking like it was reaching out to me, as if pleading for mercy. Guts lay strewn around, intestines like macabre party streamers and, with some imagination, other organs could have been balloons. And yet I could find no enjoyment in the bloody festivities I’d created.

  Luke couldn’t offer much comfort either. He still seemed to be in awe of me. “Wow, man, that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I growled.

  “Really, you didn’t? You looked to be having a good enough time of things.”

  “I told you before, you don’t want this life. The curse has taken everything from me, even my ability to feel things normally like most people. There was a savage joy to be had in all this for a while, but even that seems gone now. This was a mistake; I should never have come here.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, bro. That Slayer killed almost as many
as you. He seemed a bit psycho to me – who’s to say he wouldn’t have killed them all on his own if you hadn’t been here?”

  I shook my head and we fell quiet. I didn’t even care about all the unanswered questions I had for him at that point, like how he just happened to be in the pub and how he knew there was a Slayer in the room, or even how he knew who the Slayers were to begin with. None of it really seemed to matter in the aftermath of all the carnage.

  I forced down more of my pint but I’d only managed half of it before the gruesome decorations became too much, and I didn’t recognise the latest song blaring through the speakers. There was nothing more for me in that place. Not even the warmth brought any comfort in the wake of this latest atrocity I’d committed. So I allowed the transformation to take hold, choosing to spend the remainder of the night in that most monstrous form between boy and wolf, because a monster was what I truly was.

  The wolf didn’t take over like I’d feared earlier. I almost wished he had, but I supposed it was probably for the best. My stomach growled again and I lowered my muzzle to the Slayer’s mangled corpse. Luke’s gaze was on me as I ate, enraptured by the impossible sights taking place right before his eyes.

  A phone fell from the dead man’s pocket and with some difficulty I grasped it in my clawed hands. I didn’t really know what I hoped to find. There wasn’t much that made sense to me or gave any fresh insight into how my enemies worked. Most of the texts were from his personal life as far as I could tell. But I did find the text he’d received when I’d first entered. The chilling message read ‘Target entering your location. Contain the damage.’

  So that was the real reason why he’d joined me in the slaughter. It hadn’t been to slow me down so reinforcements could have another shot at me, and his death hadn’t been a noble sacrifice for the countless lives that would be saved if they did succeed in killing me. No, the Slayers seemed to have given up on killing me that night, perhaps feeling the need for a rethink of tactics after I’d slipped through another of their traps. The events in the pub had all been about keeping their precious secret from the rest of mankind, nothing more.

 

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