The Huntress (Lupus Moon Book One)

by Kevin Sorrell

  "Carl! Shoot her!" Baines yelled. The jogger looked up at Carl, her wide eyes yellowing with the onset of the beast. Carl's own eyes flooded with tears. He trembled, unintelligible gibberish flowing from his lips. "Carl!"

  The look in the jogger's eyes changed. The fear and horror that had marked the first few moments of her mutation melted away. In it place was something darker, primal. Enraged. The tops of her ears pulled themselves into points; her fingernails warped outward, splitting open as newborn claws forced their way through. Her parted her darkening lips in a pain-induced snarl, revealing canines that were already twice their normal size. Still, Carl did nothing. He couldn't. He just didn't have it in him.

  But the homeless man did. He stepped in and snatched the gun from the ineffective father and trained it on the jogger's head, pulling the trigger without hesitation. The blast splattered the jogger's brains all over the alter and choir stand behind it. Brenda and her daughter screamed--

  The homeless man gripped the bolt and reloaded the rifle. He turned and strolled away, joining Baines and Kristen on the front line. They exchanged nods. An eerie silence fell over the church, save for the muffled sobs of Brenda and her daughter. The hunters scanned the sanctuary for signs of movement.

  "Keep in mind these aren't silver bullets, so make every shot count," Baines said to the others. "Aim for sensitive spots--faces, eyes, throats--but if you can't get those, just make sure you hit the damn things."

  Kristen nodded once more. She took a long, deep breath, steeling herself. As they stood there waiting, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her. Just two days prior, she was a regular teenage girl who was into boys and constantly annoyed by the overbearance of her parental figure. School was a necessary evil, and maintaining her social standing was of paramount importance. But now she was standing in the middle of her father's church holding a rifle, with him on one side and someone she didn't even know on the other, prepared to break one of the Ten Commandments, if only for defense. This was her first time handling a real gun, and instead of cutting her shooting teeth on an innocuous, non-threatening target like a doe, she was facing off with the ultimate predator--at least as far as she knew. If there was something worse out there, she couldn't imagine what it would be. Perhaps if they made it through the night, she thought, she'd ask her father. She wondered what other secrets he was keeping from her. She wondered if she even wanted to know.

  Suddenly, cracking, snapping wood shredded the silence as one of the pews shot into the air, ripped from the floor by a fully-transformed Travis. The shooters only caught a glimpse of his size and evil, fiery eyes before he launched the pew at them. It smashed into another just before them, exploding into pieces as they flung themselves to the floor. The flying debris caught them in the head and face on the way down.

  Travis looked at the wreckage, then to Carl and his family. He bared his fangs, drool oozing from his maw. Slasher rose in the pew across the aisle, eying them as well. Carly, maintaining her human form, emerged from behind yet another pew in the back of the church.

  Carl ran over and used his body to shield his wife and daughter. Heart racing, breaths coming in quick, pulsating blasts, something caught his eye on the floor nearby--the homeless man's gun, dropped when he hit the deck. Carl cut his eyes to the lycas.

  They practically dared him to make a move.

  "Brenda, take Tessa and run out the back," he said over his shoulder.

  "What about you?" Brenda asked, her eyes wild with terror.

  "I'll cover you."

  "Carl--"

  "Go!" he screamed, lunging for the rifle. He snatched it up and pointed it at Travis, firing off a shot. The beast dodged to one side, then leapt over several pews, careening into Carl and knocking him to the ground. Before the man could recover, Travis ripped his chest open with a single swipe of his claws. Blood sprayed all over Brenda and Tessa, who had been too horrified to run. They screamed bloody murder at the sight--

  The homeless man, shaking off the fall he took, scrambled for the dropped rifle. He picked it up and reloaded, blasting Travis in the chest as the monster spun to meet him. He readied another shot, but Slasher pouncing in from behind and slashed him across the back. He cried out and stumbled forward, managing to keep his balance long enough to turn and face his attacker. He raised the rifle once more, but Slasher lashed out with another swing of his claws--

  The homeless man's decapitated head slammed off the wall and crashed to the floor so hard that it's momentum sent it tumbling past Kristen and Baines as they recovered. She screamed and covered her mouth with her hand. Baines scrambled to his gun, then got to his feet, leveling his rifle at Slasher. He never saw Carly coming down the center aisle, through, and she uncorked a backhand that sent Baines smashing through the alter.

  "Daddy!" Kristen screamed. She grabbed her rifle and skittered to her feet, swinging it up at Carly. She effortlessly slapped it out of Kristen's hands, and continued to back her down. Kristen glanced to her left. Brenda had grabbed the wooden flagpole and American flag from it's holder on the floor and was using it to try and ward Travis off, Tessa right behind her. Travis swiped the flag away with his right and came back with his left, eviscerating Brenda. Her entrails spilled from her abdomen onto the carpet.

  "Mom!" Tessa shreiked. She darted to the fallen flag and stomped on the center of the pole, grasping the bottom half and wrenching it up to snap it in half. She turned with the broken end out and charged at Travis to spear him, but Slasher beat her to it, flying in and blasting her into the wall. Her body splintered the wood on impact, and she groggily stumbled back toward Slasher. He grabbed her and sank his fangs into her neck, snapping her spinal cord between his jaws.

  The slaughter was too much for Kristen. She yelped and fell to her knees, sobbing as Carly stood before her.

  "I don't get it. You should've changed by now," Carly said, looking at Kristen curiously. Kristen turned her eyes up to Carly, her pain giving way to a swelling rage.

  "Maybe you didn't do it right," she said. "Maybe you're impotent."

  Carly's nostrils flared. She shot a hand out, grasping Kristen's throat and lifting her into the air. Kristen clawed at her grip to no avail. Carly ginned up at her with sinister, shining eyes, then flung her into the wall on the other side of the alter. She crumbled to the floor, the impacts rendering her half-conscious.

  Stay with me, Kristen," Carly said, strolling over to Baines, stirring amid the wreckage of the alter. "I want you to see this." Baines, cut and bloodied, struggled to push himself up to all fours. Carly pushed him over onto his back with the sole of her shoe. "You took from me. Now I'm gonna take from you." She snatched Baines by the front of his shirt and ripped him into the air, sneering at him as her canines beginning to extend. She hurled Baines into his own pulpit.

  Baines laid motionless amid the shattered mess as Carly ascended the alter, stalking him. She stood over his prone form.

  "It's over, reverend. Whether she wants it or not, your little girl is one of us now."

  "Please, just...leave her be. She's no threat to you."

  "No threat?" Carly countered, shucking her jacket to expose the festering, necrotic wound on her shoulder from where Kristen stabbed her with Alex's silver spike. "What do you call this?"

  Baines chuckled. "Good work. My girl's a natural."

  Carly seethed. She raised her foot and stomped Baines in the face. Again. Once more for good measure. He looked up at her, his mouth and nose a crimson mess.

  "Do what you will with me, demon," he said weakly. "I've served my Master well. God will see I have the final victory."

  Carly knelt, straddling Baines' waist. "News flash, reverend. There is no God..." She ripped his shirt collar open, exposing his neck and upper chest. "Only me."

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Wallace, on his hind legs, lumbered out of holding. He swept the police station, noticed the busted door to the evidence room at the end of the adjacent hall. He growled and headed straight for it. />
  Alex laid lifeless on the floor as Wallace crept in, her back to him. Her belt and the empty plastic pouch rested on the tile nearby. Wallace eased closer, eyes gleaming, drool running over the edge of his maw and spilling onto the floor. He reached a clawed hand for her shoulder--

  Alex spun. Something glinted in the light. Webber felt a searing pain in his leathery palm and recoiled with a bestial yowl. Alex kipped up, brandishing her silver Bowie knife. She slashed at Wallace wildly, missing. She followed with another, and another, driving the beast out of the room and into the hallway--

  Toward the dead end. The werewolf's thickly-muscled back met the wall. He glanced back at it, then to Alex. She smirked; she had him cornered. Alex flipped the Bowie in the air, caught the blade between her right thumb and index finger, and hurled the knife for the dead center of Wallace's chest. The massive beast somehow ducked--

  The Bowie sliced into a breaker box in the wall. Sparks exploded from it; the lights in the station flickered.

  Wallace seized on the opportunity and pounced at Alex. She leap-frogged him with amazing agility and spun to counterattack, but Wallace rose to his full height and slashed for her face, forcing her to dodge backward, closer to the sizzling breakers. It was Alex's turn to glance over her back, then to Wallace.

  She took another step back. Wallace snarled and moved forward. Alex took another step back. Then another. A spark burst from the breaker box and hit Alex in the back. She flinched.

  Wallace sank low into a hunch. He sprang for her throat--

  Alex ducked while simultaneously snagging Wallace's right arm, using his own momentum to drive his hand directly into the burning breaker box. It exploded as volt after volt coursed through Wallace, electrocuting him. A final blast knocked the monster onto his back--

  Plunging the entire station into darkness. Alex casually picked up her knife and strolled over to Wallace's burned, convulsing body. He was slowly reverting back into his human form. Alex knelt next to him--drove the blade into his mutating heart. He let out a withered yelp as he shriveled, his life seeping away. Alex removed the Bowie after his final breath. She wiped off the viscous corrupted blood with her fingers, and stood, turning to back for--

  Neiland, who, to her surprise, was standing at the opposite end of the hall. He had managed to reach the keys Wallace dropped during his transformation and freed himself, but in that moment he was anything but resourceful. He was, in fact, completely, and utterly, dumbfounded.

  That same look was on his face moments later, as he leaned against the wall in the evidence room collecting his thoughts while Alex made a call on her cell. None of this was making any sense, yet at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. But instead of answering all his questions, what he'd just witnessed only created more. How long had they been here? How long was Chief Wallace one? What was he going to do with the body? How does he break this news to the others? And where in the hell is Peters and Webster?

  "I need you to get me back to the church. Something's happened," Alex said as slid the Bowie knife into its scabbard on her belt. "It's not like Baines to not pick up--not when we're working a case."

  "A case? So, like, this is all you do? Drive around to different places and..." Neiland said, motioning to the hallway on the other side of the door. "...kill those things?"

  Alex shot him a look. "I also need you to round up every man you can and get them as heavily armed as possible. As you saw, anything silver can be used as a weapon." She continued as she strapped on her shoulder holsters, "If you can't find any, just go for something lethal. These things can regenerate over time, but even they can't grow back a head if it's blown off." She slipped her Walthers into place. Stopped to notice Neiland staring at her crazily. "Now's not the time to be a coward, detective. Your people are depending on you." She reached for her coat. "If we work together, we can minimize losses."

  "Minimize?" Neiland asked. "How many of these things are we talkin' here?"

  "We have no idea how many people they recruited into their pack, and tomorrow night's the full moon. We'll find out then," Alex said, crossing to the door. "Let's go."

  TWENTY-SIX

  Alex and Neiland raced into the sanctuary, stopping dead in their tracks.

  "No..." she muttered, surveying the carnage. Weeping Springs Baptist Church was a war zone: smashed pews, severed limbs and torn bodies strewn about, blood-splattered walls. At the front of church, huddled with her father's shotgun at her feet--

  Kristen. "I managed to get a couple shots off, but they missed. It wouldn't have done any good, anyway." Alex and Neiland rushed to the alter, pausing to glance at the headless body of the jogger before joining Kristen. They stood over her shoulder. A breath caught in Alex's throat.

  Baines was laying where Carly had left him. Beaten. Bloodied. Broken. He turned his glassy eyes to them, his breathing labored.

  "Alex," he said faintly, raising an unsteady, blood-soaked hand. Alex knelt at his side, alongside Kristen, and took his hand in hers.

  "What happened?" she asked, her voice shaky.

  "They came looking for me," Kristen said. "Carly, and a couple others from the park. They wanted me to join their pack,"

  "They've been recruiting," Baines added. We took some people in to get them off the street, but one of the girls...she was one."

  Alex glanced over her shoulder at the jogger's body. "Yeah. The police chief, too. I had a run-in with him at the station."

  "We tried to fight them, but..." Kristen said, trailing off. She touched her father's cheek. He smiled.

  "I'm calling an ambulance," Neiland said, taking out his cell.

  "That won't be necessary," Alex said. She noticed Baines' ripped shirt, laid neatly back in place. It was soaked through with his blood. She felt a sickening sensation; her stomach knotted. She took a deep breath, steeled herself. As if the were ripping the band-aid off a cut, she reached out a hand and yanked aside one of the torn flaps. Her heart sank into her gut--

  Baines had been bitten. The marks in his shoulder and at the base of his neck were unmistakable. Although the rips in his flesh were particularly nasty, Alex could see that they were already well on their way to healing. She placed a gloved hand on Baines' chest, just below the bite. Her eyes welled, as did Baines'.

  "You can fix him, right?" Kristen asked. "That stuff you used on me?"

  "Only works on scratches," Alex said softly. "And even then, only in the first five minutes."

  Realization and horror reshaped Kristen's features. She shook her head. "No. No. So you're saying..."

  Alex looked down and away to keep Kristen from seeing her tears as they rolled down her face. She swiped them away with the back of her hand.

  "I don't accept this," Kristen continued. "There has to be something--"

  "There's nothing we can do!" Alex snapped back. "Your dad has been bitten. It's over. He's going to become one of them."

  Kristen glared back at her with wide, shivering eyes. The emotional dial twisted once more. Kristen's face darkened.

  "This is all your fault!"

  "Excuse me?"

  "You were the one who was supposed to save us! You were supposed to be the big hero! Where were you when we needed you!"

  Alex flashed a look at Kristen. "You know exactly where I was." She cut her eyes to Neiland, who, realizing the part he may have unwittingly played in all this, took a step back. He turned and looked once more at the death that surrounded them.

  "ARRRGH!" Baines called out, seizing, crushing Alex's hand as liquid fire tore through his veins.

  "Daddy!" Kristen shrieked. Alex held Baines' body in place with her free hand. The pain subsided after a few moments; Baines relaxed. Alex laid his hand across his chest. "What's happening to him?"

  "It's the bite. It's changing him," Alex said solemnly. "If we don't do anything, he'll make his first transformation in less than twenty-four hours."

  "Which can't happen," Baines rasped. "Alex, please..." Alex's head dipped w
ith a sudden, intense burden. Kristen's gaze cut between her and her father, trying to understand.

  "Please? Please what?"

  "It's...the only way, Kristen," Baines said. "I can't be one of those things."

  "But daddy, I..." Kristen uttered, tears streaming unchecked. "I need you."

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart," was all her father could offer. Kristen exploded into a sobbing mess, threw herself atop Baines. He wrapped his left arm around her, cupping the nape of her neck. They cried together, their bodies convulsing with their sobs.

  Alex stood gravely. She looked down at Baines' shotgun and slowly bent over to pick it up. She opened the barrel to see if it was loaded--

  Kristen turned at the sound. "No!" she leapt up and snatched the gun away. "We're not doing this! We're not killing my father!"

  "He's already dead, Kristen. Don't make this any harder than it already is."

  "Fuck you, you psychotic bitch!" Kristen screamed, stepping back from Alex. "You don't give a damn about him! You just want to kill something!"

  "You think I want to do this?" Alex bellowed, her eyes overflowing. She took a step toward Kristen. "Richard Baines might be your biological father, but he's like a father to me, too! I was nothing but a hurt, scarred little girl who wanted to kill herself when he found me and instead, he gave me love, guidance, and a purpose! Without him, I sure as hell wouldn't be here today, and because I wasn't able to here there for him when he needed me, he's going to be the second father that I've had to..." She caught herself. Turned away--

  Kristen looked at her curiously. Alex regained her composure, returned her eyes to Kristen's. "He wants to go as a human. Not as a lyca. I simply want to honor his final wish."

  Fresh tears carved trails down Kristen's face. She looked over at Baines. His gaze touched hers. She dropped her eyes to the floor, heaved a sigh, then raised them to Alex. "I-I'll do it."