Werewolf: Ascension

by Greg Hair

  “Now finish your beer, we gotta get going. We’re driving and it’s a long way to where we’re going in Mexico.”

  Landon sat there, nearing the end of his beer and watching Catalina stare down at the table with tear-filled eyes, when a large, burly, bearded man walked over.

  “Hey, little lady,” he said, “buy you a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” said Catalina.

  “Is this guy here giving you trouble?” The man pointed at Landon. “You look like you’ve been crying. Why don’t you come sit with me? I’ll make you happy.” He placed his hands on the table and bent down closer to her.

  “She said, ‘no,’” said Landon, sitting his empty beer bottle on the table.

  “Mister, I wasn’t talking to you.” The man stood slowly, turning his body toward Landon.

  “Excuse us, please,” said Catalina, standing, “we were just leaving.”

  “How about you let him leave, and you stay here with me?” The man moved his hand to grab her wrist.

  “Don’t touch her,” said Landon, jumping up.

  Suddenly, the singer for Knee Deep in Midgets stopped the ending of Hungry Heart. “Whoa. Looks like we may have some action in here tonight, guys. Let’s kick it up a notch.” He whispered to the other band members, then turned back to the microphone as they played the intro for Van Halen’s Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love.

  “Boy,” said Jack, “I got balls bigger than you. I don’t like your face.” Landon chuckled. “Wait till you see my other one.”

  “Look,” said Catalina, “We don’t want any trouble. Besides, I’m really not your type.”

  “Every woman’s my type—even Mexican.” He placed his arm around Catalina.

  “You’re already from south of the border, why don’t you go south on me? It’s time you had a real man. Once you’ve had Jack, you never go back.”

  “That’s it,” said Landon, stepping to the burly man named Jack. Catalina raised her hand in a stopping gesture. Landon paused.

  “It’s okay, Landon,” she said. “I got this.”

  “You gonna let your woman do your fightin’ for you?” asked Jack.

  “He knows this woman can take care of herself,” Catalina said. She motioned for Landon to sit back in his chair. “Now, Jack, we’ve been nice up to this point, but you haven’t reciprocated. I think you should step aside and let us leave, peacefully, or there will be trouble. And I’d hate to embarrass you in front of everyone.” Jack grew incensed as he grabbed Catalina’s arm tightly. He shot a look at Landon, who continued to sitting in his seat as she requested.

  “Look,” Jack said, “I don’t take kindly to threats. Not from a man or a woman.” He squeezed her arm tighter.

  Another patron walked over and placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you let go of the lady?”

  “Mind your own business,” Jack yelled, shoving the Good Samaritan into the next table, spilling drinks on the customers that sat there.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” said Catalina.

  She grabbed Jack’s arm that held her tight and twisted it to the point of breaking.

  “You bitch!” screamed Jack. He threw a punch with his good arm, then stood there motionless when she caught it.

  Her eyes went from soft brown to icy blue. She tightened her grasp on his fist, breaking the bones in his hand, then launched his backwards with a hit to his chest. Jack flew back, coming to rest against at the bottom of the nearest wall. Catalina began walking toward him, when Landon grabbed her arm.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

  Landon set a wad of money on the table for the damages, and escorted her out as everyone stared.

  “That real man just got his ass kicked by a girl,” she yelled, as the entrance door shut behind her.

  Landon and Catalina got in her red Mazda 3 and sped out of the parking lot, heading south to Mexico.

  Chapter 27

  Hours flew by with the desert miles as Landon and Catalina drove west through Texas to Mexico. The night gave way to breaking day as they crossed the border. It had been a long drive that was now filled with the despair of the sight of so much squalor that defined the roadsides of Mexico. The last song Landon heard in English was Robert Plant’s Big Log.

  “I think I should have asked this earlier, Catalina, but why didn’t we fly?”

  “Because the inner-workings of Burghausen have disintegrated. It’s strange to even say the name of the castle when none of us are there anymore. It’s difficult to know who to trust, where Nicholas has eyes. I didn’t want to attract any attention. He certainly wouldn’t expect us to actually be driving from Austin to Mexico.”

  “Where in Mexico are we going?”

  “A little town called Ascension.”

  “I still don’t understand why we’re going.”

  “Remember when I said that Ryker was advancing quicker than you? That’s one reason. The second is that you have been the focus of Nicholas throughout the entire ordeal. There’s something about you that he finds…compelling. Where we’re going, you will, hopefully, gain an advantage. Anyone who can come back from the dead is obviously someone who isn’t going to go away quietly—or easily. You need help.”

  “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  “Now, let me ask you something,” she said.

  “What?”

  “What do you think our chances are against him? Can we win?”

  “Sure, why not? Look, we don’t even know for sure that he did come back from the dead. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I didn’t kill him like I thought I did. Maybe there really isn’t anything special about him, but he’s using this resurrection thing as a psychological weapon, that seems to be working. I think we can win. Ryker and I are both Consuls, now. Even if I can’t come through, I know he can.” The hot Mexican air blasted through the car’s open windows.

  “That’s part of your problem,” she said, “no faith in yourself. We, all of us, need you to become the werewolf you’re meant to be, the werewolf that Nicholas thinks you are. Obviously, your own enemy sees something in you that you don’t, or he wouldn’t be trying to kill you all the time. We’ve already lost some good people, though. I’d hate to lose anymore.”

  “I used to have faith in myself,” he said, noticing her gaze wander across the desert and looking as if she were now driving the car on autopilot. “Then I had all this thrust upon me. It would be difficult for anyone to go from saving some kids, to saving the world. I would think anyone would doubt themselves.” He reached down under his seat and felt around on the floorboard.

  “It’s not there,” she said.

  “What? What’s not there?”

  “The bottle of Tequila I saw you buy when we stopped in El Paso, before we crossed the border. I got rid of it. That’s your other problem. Surely, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice. Your body must be clean, no impurities, for what lies ahead. You must be strong and have all of your faculties to survive.”

  “To survive? What the hell are you doing to me, Catalina?” Landon laid his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. Damn, he thought. The whole bottle gone.

  “Sooner or later,” she said, “you’re going to sink to the bottom of your bottle. I only hope it’s not too late when it happens, and that you don’t take anyone else with you.”

  Finally, they reached a small, deserted-looking desert town—Ascension, Mexico.

  They drove to the center of the village where a gazebo stood. An older Mexican gentleman with a dusty cowboy hat and thick, black mustache stood in the structure. He said nothing as Landon and Catalina got out of the car.

  “She’s expecting us,” said Catalina.

  The old man looked over his shoulder toward empty streets and closed buildings and motioned for no one to join them. At least, that’s what Landon thought. Sweat poured out of him as what looked like a hundred people suddenly became visible. He knew Mexico was hot, but he hadn’t expected this
.

  His eyes were immediately drawn to a beautiful, tan, slender young woman, with long, black hair down to her backside. Both men and women trailed behind her as they made their way through the parted crowd. He judged by the garb she wore that she was someone of high importance.

  “Wow,” he said. “She’s something else.”

  “Yeah. She’s the priestess here. Actually she’s more than that. She’s worshipped as a goddess by the mortal townspeople.”

  “Really. Is she a goddess?” He figured if there were werewolves and vampires, why not goddesses.

  “Not really. But to these people she is. She’s probably going to be a little pissed off to see me, though.”

  “Why?”

  “They worship her like a goddess because that’s what they think of vampires. And she’ll be pissed off to see me because she’s my sister—and I’m the one who turned her.” Landon’s mouth dropped open as Catalina walked away toward her vampire sister, and knelt. She turned her head and motioned for him to follow and do the same.

  The rest of the crowd then quickly dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

  Landon looked up to see the Mexican vampire stop in front of Catalina.

  “I see you’ve brought a gift,” the Maya said. “You are many moons late.”

  “I am late, but he is not a gift. He is a friend to me and to you. He is also a werewolf.”

  “A what?” Catalina’s sister asked, almost gasping. “You return, after all these years, with this. You know what we deal with here with his kind. Why are you here?”

  “We seek help.”

  “There is no help for you here. Go back from where you came. And take it with you.”

  “Your majesty, please. A great evil is upon us and we are all in danger. He is the only one that can stop it. If we are allowed to leave, without him reaching his full capacity, everyone here, even you, will die.”

  The sun-drenched Mexican stood still, motionless, moving her brown eyes back and forth between the two that knelt before her.

  “Sister. Graciela. Please,” Catalina begged. “I am sorry that I took your natural life from you, but I need your help now.”

  Graciela, the Mexican vampire priestess, switched to standing in front of Landon, placing her hand on his head. Her body shook violently. Graciela’s hand drew back quickly.

  “What are you? You are no mere werewolf.” She looked again at Catalina. “I am intrigued. I will help you—on one condition.”

  “Name it,” said Catalina.

  “No, this is not for you. This is for him.”

  “What?” Landon asked.

  “I know of your Burghausen,” said Graciela. “We vampires have much the same contract with the people of Ascension. We protect each other. However, two nights ago, one of the mortal teenage girls, Isadora, was taken.”

  “Who took her?”

  “I’m sure you have heard of much of the drug troubles down here. Those mortal drug lords have werewolves working for them. And they have many other dogs at their disposal. Their number is greater than ours. It was one of these wolf gangs that took the girl. I have seen into your mind and I know what it is you do. Find the girl, bring her back, and I will help you.”

  “Done,” Landon said.

  Graciela nodded to the white-robed servant girl closest to her, and returned to one of the seemingly vacant buildings.

  “So what did you mean when you said you turned her?” he whispered to Catalina.

  “When I was first turned, I had little control over my hunger, my appetite. I was in a fever because I wasn’t eating. Graciela was charged with tending to me. Finally, I lost what control I did have, and fed—on her. She became like me and, out of guilt and shame for what I had done, I fled. That was five hundred years ago.”

  “Well, the fact that she’s going to help us after all, that is good news anyway, right? I mean, as long as I come through.”

  “Yes, it’s good news. But there will be a price.” Chapter 28

  That night, Landon set out on the trail of the missing teenager and her abductors.

  He’d been to her home and familiarized himself with her scent. Following the trail about twenty miles northeast, he came to the town of Guzman.

  Resting at the foot of a dormant volcano, the town was somewhat larger than Ascension. Not that it mattered, the trail could have led to Mexico City and Landon still would have found the girl. He tracked her scent to the Cathedral of San Jose. The church had a grey central tower standing three stories tall, flanked by off-white one story towers, or, at least they used to be towers. His keen vision let him know that, in fact, the cathedral used to be much taller.

  Having neither the desire nor the patience to sneak and catch the perpetrators by surprise, Landon entered through the front door. Various candles placed about inside gave away the ivory color of the interior. A lone, elderly priest shuffled around the sanctuary.

  “Excuse me,” said Landon.

  “Church is closed, my son,” the old man said.

  “Really? I didn’t realize God kept business hours. Anyway, I’m looking for a girl.”

  “I hope you do not enter the house of God looking to appease certain earthly pleasures.”

  “Not that kind of girl, Padre. I’m looking for a teenage girl who was taken…” Before Landon could finish, the priest rounded a far corner, exiting the sanctuary and closing a thick wooden door behind him.

  “Damn,” whispered Landon. “This can’t be good.”

  A moment later, a much younger man, shirtless and covered in Christian tattoos, stepped out of the same door. “You’re in the wrong place looking for the wrong person.” Seven others followed. Three made their way down the left side of the church toward Landon, three down the right side, and first man came straight down the center aisle.

  Immediately, Landon saw the oncoming seven men as werewolves, creeping slowly in the shadows of candlelight in the cathedral. He closed his eyes hard and reopened them. No werewolves, just men. Then looking beyond them, from where they had emerged, the heavy wooden door began to pulsate, becoming distorted. Landon closed his eyes and opened them again. Nothing out of the ordinary. He refocused his attention on the seven coming Mexicans.

  “Well, obviously I am in the right place. She’s back there, isn’t she?” Landon pointed to the wooden door.

  The six surrounded Landon as the seventh came to stop nearly nose to nose with him.

  “Man, you don’t know who you’re messing with. We aren’t normal.” It finally became clear to Landon what he had seen a moment earlier. “You guys are werewolves, aren’t you?” He watched the seven look at each other with surprise.

  “I’m Javier. Who the hell are you?” the leader asked, eyeing Landon suspiciously.

  Landon chuckled. “I’m the guy that’s taking the girl back. You really don’t want this to go any further.” He sensed slight vibrations coming from a couple of the men.

  They were scared and shaking.

  “What is your name, man? Before we kill you.”

  “Landon. Landon Murphy.”

  “You’re Landon Murphy?”

  “Yes. You act like you’ve heard of me.”

  “Yeah, we heard of you.”

  Landon and Javier stood there for about a minute, staring each down. Landon felt the other men begin shaking. Their pulses increased.

  Landon stepped closer to Javier. “Your men aren’t prepared for this. Give me the girl before I kill you all.”

  The Mexican seemed to be considering Landon’s proposal. He excused his men to the front pews to speak with Landon privately.

  “We do not enjoy what we do, kidnapping our own country’s daughters, but we are poor men. We have families to feed. The drug lords pay us good money to take the girls. We don’t know what happens to them after we deliver.”

  “I see. I have a strong urge to tear everyone of you apart right now. While you’re feeding your families, you’re ripping others apart. It seems to me, thou
gh, that you could do just as well, if not better, by ridding Guzman of these parasites and protecting the town. The people would be more than generous. I’ve seen it happen.”

  “You believe these people would accept werewolves leaving among them?”

  “If you offer them protection, yes. They will be frightened at first, but show them that they have nothing to fear from you. Keep proving yourselves. It will work. And if I were you, I’d start by tracking down the girls that you already ‘delivered.’” Javier for paused for several seconds, then gave a loud whistle. The heavy wooden door opened and Isadora was ushered out to Landon by two new men. She was dirty, but otherwise unharmed. Then, he had a vision of her escorts as werewolves.

  “They’re werewolves, too, right? Were they back there the whole time?”

  “Yes, to both questions” said Javier.

  The pulsating door, thought Landon. It was telling me where other werewolves were hiding.

  “Thank you,” said Landon, receiving Isadora. “You’re doing the right thing. And remember this, if you don’t follow through with your decision, understand that I will come back here and kill you all.”

  “I understand, Landon Murphy.”

  Landon turned with the girl and began to walk out the cathedral when he stopped.

  “By the way,” he said, “how did you hear about me? Way down here?”

  “Man, every werewolf has heard of you.”

  “You mean since I was made Consul.”

  “You talking about that place in Germany, right? No, man. It’s because you’re a real bad ass. Some will test you to see if the real Landon is as dangerous as the legend.

  Others, like us, will not.”

  Javier shook Landon’s hand and the red-headed werewolf headed back to Ascension with the girl.

  Chapter 29

  The following night, with a large, orange, full moon hanging over the Mexican desert, Graciela emerged from one of the empty buildings, Catalina by her side. Landon lay on a cold, stone slab erected near the gazebo at the center of town. Graciela approached him.