Forged From Ash - Book #7 of the Skinners Series

by Marcus Pelegrimas

  Linda quickly shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

  Still thinking that she may have spotted some breed of Mongrel, Rico sifted through what he knew about them to pick one that could have been mistaken for a Half Breed. He hit a brick wall when he tried to come up with one that would actually be accepted in a Half Breed pack. The only creatures other than Half Breeds that ran with a pack were Full Bloods, and there was no mistaking one of them for something else.

  “So what happened when this one changed?” he asked.

  “I’ve never seen one of those things change before,” Linda told him as she became visibly more nervous. “But…I suppose they all have to change sometimes, right?”

  “The biggest change for one of those things is the first time it’s turned. When a human is infected, they’ve got a short amount of time before they shift. When they shift, every bone in their body is broken, and they’re twisted into one of those animals. Organs shift. Some are ripped open, I think.”

  Linda wasn’t the only one who listened to him. Although Haley had seemed to be in a better mood after coming back from the ladies’ room, that faded along with a good amount of color from her face. “Wouldn’t that kill them?” she asked.

  Looking over at her and then to Linda, Rico said, “It does. The human that used to be in that body is pulverized, and the animal is all that’s left. The only shifting they do after that is when they sleep, which isn’t that often. Their muscles relax. Their fur gets sucked partly back in. Their skin gets saggy. They actually look more like road kill than normal if you can believe that.”

  Linda shook her head. “That’s not what this one did. This one flopped around for a while and…screamed. Good lord,” she whispered. “I wish I never heard that scream. Sticks with you.” Shaking her head while trying to look as if she’d recovered, the big woman continued, “It tried to stand up. Made it up to two legs, but only for a second or so. Couldn’t really hold it for long before it dropped down to one knee with a hand on the ground.”

  “Like a football player?” Haley asked.

  “Yeah,” Linda said with a smile. “Like that.”

  “What then?” Rico asked.

  When she looked back to the Skinner, Linda’s expression darkened once again. He was used to that. “Then, it…he…it was a he…he pointed to a spot at the fence line,” Linda continued, “which was where the pack would keep hitting every night from then on.”

  “Did he communicate with the rest of the creatures?”

  “Must have, because when he pointed they ran.”

  “I mean did he talk to them,” Rico said. “Did he just wave his hand? Did he lock eyes with them?”

  “Yeah!” Linda quickly replied. “The eyes thing. He stared at them. Sort of moved his head back and forth to look at each one. He made some noises, but they didn’t sound like words. I wasn’t close enough to hear too well, so maybe they could have been words. I don’t really see those dog things understanding much by way of a language, though.”

  “Strange.”

  Gary had been talking to some of the others closer to the fence, pointing over to Rico as the others nodded. In the open air and beneath the large metal roof covering the pumps, every sound tended to echo. Rico could hear Gary’s crunching footsteps as he walked over to them once more. “Big Linn here telling you all about that messed up wolf man?”

  “Yeah,” Rico chuckled. “She is.”

  “I bet we can take that thing down with a box or two of them Snappers you promised.”

  “A box?”

  “Yeah!” Gary said. “Or two. Depends on how much gas you want.”

  “And food,” Haley added. “We could also use some food.”

  Gary nodded and grinned as he mentally added more to the bill in his head. “And water, I imagine. We got some nice flavored stuff in the fridge. Even some soda.”

  “Vanilla Coke?” Haley asked.

  “They stopped putting that crap out before the packs started runnin’! What’s wrong with you?”

  She shrugged. “Worth a try.”

  “Before you two start tacking more onto the tab,” Rico said, “I should warn you I wasn’t thinking about handing over that many Snappers.”

  “How many were you thinking?” Gary asked through an ugly scowl.

  “Maybe ten rounds. I could bump it up to a baker’s dozen if you toss in some lunch.”

  “TWELVE rounds?” Gary hollered.

  Linda put her hands on her hips and said, “That’s thirteen, dumb-ass.”

  “Make it fourteen and that still ain’t enough. Hell, we should just take what we need. It ain’t like you’re goin’ anywhere unless we say so anyways.”

  Rico’s scowl was even uglier than Gary’s when he said, “You’d better be ready to back that up. Talking out of your ass can get you killed in some real nasty ways.”

  Gary tried to maintain his posturing, if only for the sake of looking good in front of everyone watching him. Since Rico wasn’t out to knock the guy down in front of his friends, he let him posture.

  “We hold the keys to that gate,” Gary said with a lot less fire in his tone than before. “And we hold more guns than you. Besides, you promised us some Snappers.”

  “That’s the only reason you let us in?” Haley asked. “Because of what we can give you?”

  “What other reason is there?”

  “How about helping someone when they need it? How about doing your part because you can, dick head!”

  Gary and a few of the other guys behind him started to laugh. When Haley got ready to renew her attack, she was stopped by a warning glare from Rico.

  “He’s right,” the Skinner said. “I promised something to trade, and I should deliver. That’s how things work now.”

  “You hear that?” Gary said as he puffed out his chest. “I’m right!” Looking around at the others near him, he found several that clearly were on the same page and a few that were holding their tongues. Even though he had his supporters, Gary ran a hand over the top of his head and let out a short sigh. “You’re right too, though, sweet thang. I was bein’ a dick head. Sorry about that.”

  “I’ve got a name, dude,” she said. “Use it, or I knee you below the belt.”

  That got an even bigger round of laughs from Gary’s audience. Linda laughed especially hard and knocked against him as she walked by to get to the pump. “You had that one coming,” she said. “I’ll top off the tank.”

  “Hold up, Linn,” Gary said. “We still gotta settle payment. I’d like to do the charitable thing, but I gotta get something out of this. Anyone finds out that I gave you free gas, and there’ll be more coming along to take advantage.”

  “He’s a Skinner,” Haley said. “He should—”

  “I’ll pay my way,” Rico cut in. Shaking his head, he grumbled, “Damn, this is a lot of trouble to go through for a few drops o’ gas and some fucking Coke.”

  “Diet Coke, actually,” Gary said.

  “Diet? Shit.”

  “Make it a full box of Snappers and we’ll send you on your way with a full tank and full bellies,” Linda said. “Sound good?”

  Alternating between looking at her and Gary, Rico said, “What I’d like is a hot meal, a full tank of gas and some basic supplies. I also got two gas cans in the trunk. I want those filled.”

  “People in hell want ice water,” Gary replied.

  Judging by the stern looks on the faces closing in around Rico and Haley, that sentiment was a good reflection of the entire group.

  “What I said before still goes,” Rico told him. “I’m willin’ to pay for what I get.”

  “You’d better be,” Gary snapped. “Because it sure ain’t free.”

  “Just let him talk!” Linda scolded.

  Rico hooked his thumbs over his belt in a way that opened his leather jacket more than enough to display the hardware holstered under his arm. The varnished wooden knuckles hung there as well, verifying to anyone who could see them that he tr
uly was something more than just a guy with scars on his hands. “The number of Snappers stays the same. That’s all I can part with. But,” he added before anyone could squawk, “I’m willing to stick around for a while and check on this pack that’s been giving you so much trouble.”

  “You won’t have to wait long to see ‘em,” Linda said. “What happens after you get a look?”

  “Once I see what you’re dealing with, I solve your problem and leave you nice people with some fresh skulls to display on your fence posts. How’s that grab ya?”

  Gary was already smiling when he turned around to look at the others clustered around him. By the time he faced Rico again, he was beaming. “That grabs me real good, buddy!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The fence bordering the truck stop enclosed the main building, two smaller buildings, and the gas pumps. A portion of road that was also enclosed led to the highway and back to a strip of other businesses that were now destroyed. Haley leaned against one of the tall metal fence posts at a spot that was as far away from the truck stop as she could get without breaking the perimeter. One sneakered foot was propped against the fence behind her. One hand was stuffed into the pocket of her jeans and the other brought a Slim Jim to her mouth. Her black hair hung in a fairly well-maintained bob on one side. A portion of her scalp on the other side was shaved clean and covered by a thinner layer of hair that was swept across in a punk version of a comb-over. Rico hadn’t noticed all those details before because he simply hadn’t looked. When he thought they wouldn’t be together for very long, it didn’t make sense to pay such close attention. Now, however, he was studying her much closer.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “Why? You wanna get busy?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know.” Keeping the Slim Jim between her teeth, she made fists and pumped them back and forth at waist level. Somehow, the little smirk she wore while biting her stick of meat was more appealing than the intentionally lewd gesture.

  “Oh yeah,” Rico said. “Guess it’s been a while since I thought along those lines.”

  Haley took the Slim Jim from her mouth and chewed as she asked, “Really? Because, normally when a guy asks how old I am, it’s right before he wants to ask about the other thing.”

  “Just making conversation. Didn’t know it would be such a big deal.”

  She looked down at the Skinner who sat with his back against the fence, one leg stretched out straight and the other bent so his boot touched his knee. The wooden knuckles were wrapped around his left fist, and he used his right hand to apply a coat of putrid smelling varnish with an old rag. Since he’d been doing the same thing for at least an hour, she lost interest and glanced around at the rest of the truck stop.

  Things had settled down in the three hours or so since they’d arrived. Gary and some of the others took their spots near the gate so they could watch the interstate. She’d counted ten people at the truck stop, including Gary and Big Linn. Since everyone else there didn’t use Linda’s real name, Haley had already started thinking of her that way as well. The sun was on its way down, but there was at least another hour or so before darkness set in. Compared to West Virginia, Missouri air was thicker, and the winds were stronger. Loose chains hanging from the fence rattled. A few doors knocked against their frames in the breeze. Other than that, the only other sounds to be heard were the distant chatter of the truck stop people and the grind of battered leather shifting back and forth as Rico’s upper body continued to move in a steady rhythm.

  “Twenty-three,” she said.

  “What?”

  “You asked how old I am. I’m twenty-three.”

  Rico looked up at her for all of two seconds, which also made a sound as he shifted within his biker jacket. “You look younger than that.”

  “I know, but I’m twenty-three. Honest.”

  He nodded and got back to what he’d been doing.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “Should I be thinking you want to get busy with an old man?”

  “No!” she said. “Just curious.”

  “I’m a lot older than twenty-three.”

  “Ok. Are you Hispanic?”

  Dropping both hands so they rested in his lap, he twisted around to give her a full view of his wide face and blocky features. “Look at this train wreck plastered onto the front of my head. If I had any Mexican, Spanish, Cuban or whatever else in me, I’d look a hell of a lot better.”

  She laughed and pulled the wrapper of her Slim Jim down to expose the last inch and a half of spicy, processed meat-like goodness. “Is your full name Ricardo?”

  “Nah. I got my name after being put through the system so many times on Rico charges. It’s a racketeering law made to trap gangsters.”

  “You’re a gangster?” Haley asked with wide eyes and a mouth that hung open enough to show the bite she’d been chewing.

  “I had my moments but wouldn’t say I was a straight-up gangster. Rico is used by the feds to nail people they otherwise wouldn’t be able to touch.” He looked up from what he was doing and wistfully added, “That was back in the day when the cops ranked up there with my biggest problems. Good times.”

  “That’s cool. I wish I had some cool story to go along with my name. I’m Haley because my grandmother was Haley. Riveting.”

  “It ain’t a contest.”

  “So do you think we’re stuck here?”

  “How do you figure that?”

  Haley shrugged and examined the last nub of Slim Jim between her fingers. “They threatened to keep us here unless we pay them, and now you’re staying to try and get these werewolves. You really think they’ll let us go when you’re done?”

  “First of all, you always gotta be ready to trade to get anywhere anymore. You should know that.”

  “I didn’t go much of anywhere other than home and the tattoo shop before or after things went bad. Then,” she said, “it was just the shop. We went looking for what we needed.”

  “Well, you had it good. As for bumping up the deal, in case you weren’t payin’ attention, I was the one who did that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it sounds like there could be some new breed of werewolf out there. I wanna get a look at it. That’s how Skinners stay on top of things. If that Half Breed really did what Big Linn says it did, then I would’ve driven all this way just to see it anyway. Unless that thing grew a tendency toward niceness, killing it would’ve been the next step no matter what.”

  “So…you would’ve done all of this for free?”

  Rico grinned in a way that was very similar to when he was thinking back on his larcenous early days. “Pretty much.”

  “Niiiice.”

  “These are good people, but it ain’t like they could keep us here even if they wanted to,” he added. “It’ll take a lot more than what they got to make me sweat. Besides, they won’t have anything to bitch about. It ain’t like I’m ripping them off. They’re still going to get some high quality exterminator services without having to put up and feed a bunch of Army guys.”

  “Those soldiers aren’t so bad,” Haley admitted. “Sometimes they’d come through St. Albans with food and blankets.”

  “If the IRD came through here it wouldn’t be so easy,” he told her. “They’d clean these folks out of a good portion of their supplies and drain a hearty chunk of gas, only they’d call it requisitioning.”

  “Is requisitioning anything like making them pay for services that would have been done for free anyway?”

  Rico tried to come up with a good comeback but wasn’t able to do much better than, “It’s different.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know,” he said in a huffy tone. “Maybe it isn’t. I guess I’m just sick of the damn government. The couple of times someone in charge got a look at the horrifying shit that was out here a bunch of years ago, all they wanted to do was find a way to get it out of their sight. Skinners took care of bus
iness, and we got hunted like criminals. Then when everything gets ripped apart in the world, we’re the ones gettin’ requisitioned.”

  Haley chomped the last bit of Slim Jim and nodded. “I can see why that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.”

  “Speakin’ of bad tastes, were you ever gonna offer me some of that?”

  “There’s a ton of them in the store,” she said. “And since everyone’s on our side right now, we’ve got the run of the place. I’ll grab some more. You want anything else?”

  “How about something sweet?”

  “What do you like? Chocolate’s gone, but there’s some other good stuff.”

  “Surprise me.” Rico was going to say something else to speed her along but didn’t have to. Haley crumpled up the wrapper in her hand and started crossing the long patch of grass to get to the truck stop. Before the place had become more of a fort than a pit stop, the wide oval of greenery had been a place for drivers to toss their cigarette butts and walk their dogs. Now, it was an oasis behind chain link. Unfortunately, there were still plenty of dogs to be found on the other side of the fence.

  Rico had felt the Half Breeds coming less than a minute ago. It started as a subtle itch in one scar and had grown steadily ever since. There wasn’t a real science to judging things like distance or speed of whatever aggravated the scars, but every Skinner eventually got a feel for it. Much like counting the seconds between lightning and thunder to gauge how far away a storm was, the method at least gave Rico a vague notion to go by. By the time Haley was inside, the storm was close enough to irritate both of Rico’s hands. He got to his feet, caught the attention of Big Linn and waved her over.

  “What’s up?” Linda asked once she was close enough to speak to him without shouting.

  “The pack’s coming. You’re gonna show me the exact spot where they were digging, and we’re gonna make a stand.”

  “I’ll tell the others.”

  “You’ll tell them to keep their distance,” Rico quickly said. “It’ll just be you and me getting up close.”

  Fear showed in her eyes, which wasn’t a bad thing. After working with so many non-Skinners over the last few years, Rico had learned that the ones who weren’t afraid were either reckless or stupid. People like that were great to keep a Half Breed distracted for a few seconds but not much good for anything else.