The Original's Return (Book 2): The Original's Retribution

by David Watkins

  Leaving seemed the best choice, but she didn’t know how she would survive. The police almost certainly had a description of her, as would the army. Joe and Henry needed time together, to heal their wounds and she had brought nothing but bad luck to them since they’d met. Bryant. She watched as he bit a large chunk of flesh from somewhere on Stadler, and then heard rapidly approaching footsteps.

  At some point during the fight, without even realising, she had left the alley and was now standing in plain sight in the square. She turned towards the noise, and heard the gunfire from the churchyard. Joe was hurtling towards her, face pale and streaked with tears.

  “Soldiers,” he managed to get out. “Henry.”

  She took his hand and they ran away from the square, towards the rear of the pub.

  8

  Katie felt bile rise and forced it down. She had to act, and now. She raised the shotgun and pressed it to the back of Sally’s head. Without pausing to think, she pulled the trigger. Warm blood splashed her face as the fat woman crumpled to the floor. Michael started to turn, still clutching Josh. Katie swung the barrel of the gun and hit him on the chin. Michael swore and Katie dropped the gun, grabbing Josh from the momentarily stunned man. Then without looking at Jack, she sprinted back into the pub.

  “Lock the door!” she screamed as she ran in.

  She had seen scenes like the inside of the pub when a fight had suddenly broken out. Everyone stood still, not really sure what was going on, and hoping that it would go away before anything else bad happened. The barman reacted first. He ran past her, slammed the door shut and threw the bolt across. It looked gloriously inadequate for the job.

  “What the hell is going on?” he said.

  Josh was crying, and Katie held him tightly. “What it looks like. It’s not safe here.”

  The early evening drinkers looked at each other, disbelief clear on their features.

  “If they get in here, they’ll kill us all,” Katie said.

  “But who are they?” said the man at the bar.

  “What are they is a much better question,” she said, “but not now. We need to go. Out the back, now.”

  The other side of the bar was another entrance to the pub. Katie led the way, opening the door to the street. She looked down the road, the one that led to the square, but she couldn't see anyone. She stepped into the street, shushing Josh, and a pretty woman stepped into her path. The same pretty woman she had seen moments before. A man stood behind her watching Katie with hollow eyes.

  “I don't think so,” she said. “Back inside.”

  “Please,” Katie said, “my son.”

  “This is bullshit,” the man from the bar said, pushing past Katie. He had been unconscious a few minutes ago and his speech was slurred now. Something changed in the woman’s gaze, and suddenly she was a wolf. The man screamed as she howled, and then she was back as the pretty woman.

  “Now, I said, back inside.”

  9

  Bryant glared at Michael, who was wiping Sally’s blood off his face. “You worship him?” He kicked the body of the wolf at his feet.

  “No, I want to follow an Original. I made that offer to you, remember?”

  “I was weak then,” Bryant smiled. “I am no longer.”

  The other wolves in the square, all in human form, bowed their heads as Bryant glared at them all.

  “You are my pack now!” he roared.

  “You're bleeding,” Michael said.

  “I will heal.” Bryant brushed at the blood pouring from his arm and then pressed the wound. A frown creased his brow. “Who was the woman? The one with the weapon?”

  “Jack’s wife. His son too.”

  “Then she dies next.”

  10

  “I have a shot, sir.”

  “Take it,” Raymond said. “Everyone else, weapons free, go, go, go.”

  11

  Bryant pushed Michael to one side and took a step towards the pub door. The bullet entered him just below the top of his neck, travelling downwards and so blowing out a sizeable chunk of his throat. Bryant staggered forward, involuntarily grabbing his throat. A second shot slammed into the middle of his back, throwing him into the pub door. He bounced off it and fell to the floor near Jack’s body.

  Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of automatic gunfire. Michael turned from Bryant in time to see the wolves furthest away from him get torn apart by bullets.

  Now there were bullets coming from the other direction too. A man was leaning against a car, using its bonnet as a stabiliser and firing indiscriminately into the crowd. Other shots rang out, even louder than the machine gun. A sniper. Michael grinned to himself. Time for phase two.

  He kicked the pub door as hard as he could. Already weakened from the force of Bryant hitting it, the door flew open. He dove into the sanctity of the pub.

  A woman screamed as he landed. Michael stood up, his usual smile in place. Katie Stadler stood clutching her baby next to a couple in the corner of the bar. Another man stood watching them, and next to him a naked woman. Finally a barman, easily identified with his Kings Arms t-shirt, was behind the bar.

  “Jenny,” he said.

  “Hello, Michael. This hasn’t exactly gone to plan has it?”

  12

  Knowles stopped shooting. The square was covered in dead bodies. Christ, I hope no civilians.

  The people of Huntleigh were still in their houses - he could see some curtains twitching now that the noise had died down. There would be a lot of explaining to do, but that was later. Right now, they were showing sense by staying indoors. At least now the police will be on their way. All that remained was the clean-up. Although, one man had definitely gone into the pub.

  “Sir, multiple targets down,” he said into his mic. The others echoed what he said.

  “Approach with caution,” Raymond said. “Anything so much as twitches, I want another bullet in it.”

  “Sir, what about Jack and Bryant?” Knowles said. He could see both men lying on the ground, surrounded by blood.

  “Use extreme caution.”

  Knowles walked in a low crouch towards the carnage in front of the pub. He swept the weapon barrel backwards and forwards, covering the pile of dead in front of him. Neither Jack nor Bryant was moving.

  “Sir, something’s not right here. Bryant and Jack should be healing by now.”

  “Agreed Knowles, but we need them off the streets. This can only be a good thing.”

  At the other end of the square, Hibbard was walking forward in the same crouch as Knowles. Cockbain was kneeling behind a car, covering his approach. Raymond was kneeling against a different car on the opposite side of the road, also covering them.

  Tension and adrenaline were beginning to cause a headache for Knowles and he rubbed his head under his helmet. His forehead was slick with sweat. No casualties for us. We're getting better at dealing with them. He reached Jack and pushed him with his boot.

  Jack rolled over, and Knowles saw the extent of the wounds for the first time. A large chunk was missing from his shoulder, and Knowles could see the bone through the mess of red and torn tissue. His pectoral muscle was also hanging loose, a long line of ripped flesh running from his other shoulder to just above his sternum.

  “Shit, Jack,” Knowles muttered, just as Jack opened his eyes.

  13

  Pain was coursing through him like he had never felt before. Once, on a skiing trip, he had been taken out by a snowboarder and had twisted his knee. That had been his worse accident until he fell into the cave several months ago. Even being shot - several times, at once - had not hurt like this.

  This made those laughable.

  “Shit, Jack,” he heard a familiar voice say and he opened his eyes. Knowles was looking at him, and the soldier was sweating. He was in full battle gear and carrying a gun that looked like something from a video game.

  Why is Knowles here? Why is he in Huntleigh dressed like that?

  Other memor
ies started coming back to him. Katie and Josh. Where were they? He had to get to them, make sure they were safe. Jack tried to sit up, but his body just wouldn't obey. Nothing seemed to be working.

  The wolves. Where did they come from? Where’s Michael?

  “Knowles, what’s happening?”

  “I don't know Jack, you're hurt pretty bad.”

  “But I shouldn't be.”

  Knowles shrugged. “Bryant bit you, Jack. Probably best not to take on a special forces trained guy, huh?”

  “I couldn't help it,” Jack said. It was true: something had taken over, something primal.

  “Jack, the people I'm with, they won't help you. They will want you to stay hurt until we can get you locked up. I'm sorry.”

  Jack couldn't even nod. “Find my wife, Knowles, make sure my son is safe.”

  He closed his eyes.

  14

  “The arrival of the army has upset my plans somewhat,” Michael said.

  “What are you?” a woman screamed.

  “Shut up,” Michael said. “You know what we are.”

  “Nobody else needs to die today,” Joe said. “We can just leave.” He was talking to Jenny, but she was ignoring him. “Both of the Originals are down. Maybe the legends are not true,” he persisted.

  “The Originals will heal,” Michael said. “They just need time.”

  “We haven't got time,” Joe said. “How many soldiers are coming?”

  “There aren't that many here,” Michael said. There was something in his voice – a smugness – that chilled Joe.

  Jenny also picked up on Michael’s choice of words. “How do you know?”

  “You don't really think I put all my people in that square do you?”

  15

  “Sir, you want us to join you?” Taylor said into his mic. Both he and Williams were lying on the floor at the top of the Church tower. Williams had his sniper rifle resting on its bipod stand, helping keep it steady.

  “Negative, keep eyes up there,” Raymond’s voice was quiet but clear over the radio.

  Taylor looked again through the binoculars. He had a view of about three-quarters of the square and it was a bloodbath.

  “I hope none of those are real people,” he said.

  “Bit late to worry about that mate,” Williams said. He was still looking through the scope of the rifle, barrel aimed squarely on Bryant’s unmoving back.

  “What’s that?” Taylor said, moving the binoculars up slightly. “Sir, we have movement in the pub. I just saw something at the window.”

  “We're on it,” Hibbard said over the radio. Taylor couldn’t see him, but he knew Hibbard – with Cockbain and Raymond - was approaching the square from West Street.

  “Careful-” Taylor got as far as saying, then he heard a growl behind him. He rolled over as a wolf jumped at him. “Shit!” he screamed with his last breath as the wolf ripped his throat out.

  The wolf snapped at Williams next, grabbing his arm as he tried to roll away. The tower was too cramped for any sort of manoeuvre, and the wolf released his arm. Williams reached for his knife, but his arm was useless. The ruined limb refused to obey any instruction he tried to give it. Too late, he switched to his other arm and his fingers brushed the hilt of the knife. The wolf bit his face. Unlike Taylor, Williams didn't have time to scream. The wolf bit again, this time ripping Williams’ throat out.

  Scott returned to human form and looked at the sniper rifle. “Fun, fun, fun,” he said, licking his lips clean of blood.

  16

  “Taylor, sit rep,” Raymond said. The radio remained quiet. “Hibbard, Knowles I want eyes in that pub.”

  “Sir.” Hibbard said. He walked ahead of Knowles, nodding to indicate he was on point. His weapon covered the door to the pub, whilst Knowles stood five metres behind, covering him. A shot rang out and a sniper bullet smashed through Hibbard’s helmet and his head exploded in a shower of blood and bone.

  Knowles dived for cover, rolling quickly to one side, but there was nowhere to hide. He sprinted away from the pub, just as another bullet pinged into the wall behind him. He slid over a car bonnet and then took cover behind it. The shots were coming from the church, which meant-

  “Taylor and Williams have gone sir,” he said. “Get the QRF rolling!” Raymond had been in contact with the base at Lympstone in South Devon and they had a Quick Reaction Force waiting to support in an emergency. A couple of helicopters were ready for the first phase, with two further trucks on standby if more men were needed.

  No answer from Raymond. Knowles looked down the street, towards the major. Two wolves were dragging Raymond’s body out from behind a car. He was punching one in the head as it dragged him, but the wolf was ignoring the blows. As Knowles watched, the blows became visibly weaker until Raymond was still. Two more wolves came from the other side of the street, both covered in blood. One was carrying an arm. I’m on my own. Where did they come from?

  “Shit,” Knowles said.

  17

  Where did they come from? Jenny watched Michael with a cross between growing admiration and concern. He was grinning as he looked out of the windows of the pub. He kept moving from side to side, watching events unfold further down the street and immediately outside the pub, in the village square.

  “Did you know I split my pack when we arrived back here?” Michael spoke without taking his eyes from the scenes outside the window. “I only took half my people to that service station. Germany made me a bit more careful, I think.”

  Jenny had no idea what he was talking about, but she stayed quiet.

  Four wolves were eating the two soldiers that had opened fire from the end of the street. Outside the front door, the bodies of Bryant, Stadler and the soldier whose head had exploded lay dormant. At least one of them was never getting up again.

  The hostages were huddled around a table, Joe watching them with no real vigilance. He looked like he might be sick. The corpse of his brother was out of sight, but there were plenty of others in full view.

  “Scott used to be in the army. Did you know that?”

  Jenny shook her head.

  “He was a sniper in the first Gulf war. His unit got attacked, but he escaped. He was seriously wounded, but then he ran into a pack.” Michael shrugged as if to say you can do the rest of the story. “I thought he’d be a bit rusty, but that first shot was a peach. The way that soldier went down. I’ve never seen a head disintegrate like that. It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

  “What’s your plan here, Michael? What do you want? All these dead - you won't get away with this.”

  “I don't need to get away with anything. I will have one of the Originals to do my talking for me.”

  “But they're both-”

  “No Jenny. They are both hurt, yes, but they will heal. It’s just a matter of which one first.” Michael smiled again. “Shall we go see the soldiers?”

  He turned to Joe. “Watch them,” he pointed at the hostages. “They go nowhere.”

  Joe nodded and then Michael repeated, “Shall we?”

  He opened the door to the pub and pushed Jenny into the street ahead of him. To her right, the wolves were done with their meal and were walking slowly up the street, heads bowed, teeth bared.

  In front of her, the soldier without a head lay in his own blood, arms spread wide. Her foot kicked a shotgun, and she picked it up. It felt good to be armed. Bryant was next in the line, a neat hole in the back of his head and blood in a V shape pattern in front of him. His arms were covered in scratches and bites and blood oozed from these. So Stadler did get a few bites in. The thought made her happy. Finally choosing a side Jenny?

  Stadler lay in front of her of his back. His chest was a mess, blood coming from a long jagged gash. He was breathing, but it was very shallow. It was clear that Stadler was in a massive amount of pain.

  “To the soldier hiding behind the car,” Michael called.

  “Knowles,” the man shouted. “My name is Knowles and I have
buried hundreds like you. I have watched your carcasses burn and laughed as you've all died.”

  “Well, aren't you a badass scary motherfucker.” Michael looked at her and rolled his eyes. “You are surrounded Knowles, give it up and we'll make it quick.”

  “Why don't you come a bit closer? You're going first.”

  A shot rang out then, and one of the wolves stalking up the street whined and rolled over, blood pouring from its chest.

  “Sorry, I lied.”

  Michael stopped walking, and for the first time looked uncertain.

  “You will not kill us all, Knowles.”

  “You wanna bet?”

  18

  Joe saw Michael stop and knew it was now or never.

  “Move, quickly, out the back door.”

  The three people at the table looked at him in disbelief. The drunk guy was still at the bar. He had poured himself a pint and had downed it. The barman said nothing – his expression did all the talking necessary.

  “You're helping us?” the pretty woman said. Bryant had said she was Stadler’s wife. She was holding a baby, trying unsuccessfully to keep it quiet.

  “I want no part of this,” Joe said. “That guy is nuts. My brother died today. I’m guessing you don’t want to. Come on. ”

  He opened the back door to the pub and they stepped into the street. It was quiet there. If they went left, they would be back in the village centre as the pub was an island in the middle of the square, so they turned right. Joe jogged up the street, keeping close to the pub wall. The others followed. He stopped at the end of the pub and peered around the corner.

  He could see the path leading to the church, and the tower. The sniper would have a clear view of them. About a hundred yards away, the street closed in and there were houses on both sides. They would be in the clear - if they got there.

  “We have to run,” he said to the others. “When I say, we run for those houses.”

  Just then, they heard laughter. Joe watched four men come round the corner at the top of the road. They were all wearing shorts and carrying tennis racquets.