by Terry Yates
The beast was standing its ground, but the pain weapons that the two-leggers were using against it hurt. It wanted to hurt them both, its anger at full rage now, but the little lead rocks were hitting it so hard and so fast that it couldn’t take a step toward them without the force of the hot stones knocking it backwards. Its instincts told it to leave…to come back and fight another day, but these two-leggers had built up the rage inside it. It wanted them both. It wanted to claw them and eat them, and watch the life-light fade from their eyes as it had done with so many animals before them.
Cohen reached the bottom of the hill next to Potts and Hawkins just as Potts was reloading another clip. He jumped up quickly and began to fire at the werewolf. The force of the bullets was the only thing that was keeping the animal at bay. It wanted them…and badly. It tried to move forward, its true size starting to show as it inched ever forward. As Hawkins began to load his third and final clip, he saw Potts reach into his pants while continuing to shoot the beast with one hand. As frightened as Hawkins was, he was still impressed by the fact that the colonel could shoot a .45 with one hand.
As the trio continued the barrage, Hawkins saw what Potts had pulled out of his pants. It was a camera…the same camera that he’d seen the old photographer lady carrying. What was Col. Potts going to do with a camera? Take a picture of the thing to send home? Was he just another crazy white dude who’d lost his marbles during his last battle?
But Potts had seen the effect that the camera had on the beast when Gringo had taken its picture. He raised the camera to his eye and hit the shudder button. As the camera flashed, the werewolf howled and averted its eyes. The old two-legger was using the fire box that hurt its eyes. Oh, how it wanted him. The wily old two-legger had caused it a lot of grief in the last hour and it wanted to devour him whole.
Potts continued to snap pictures of the creature while Cohen and Hawkins continued to shoot it. He could see the rage building inside the monster. Come on, you bastard, he said to himself. How does this feel? Does it hurt? Hmm? Come on!
The werewolf could take no more. The firebox was hurting its eyes and the little pieces of metal were knocking it backwards and if it didn’t leave right then, it might not get another chance to destroy these loathsome little creatures.
It began to move away, but not before taking one last look at the small pack’s leader. Interestingly enough for the beast, the two-legger seemed completely unafraid of it. With one last howl, it turned and began to run on all fours down the pass.
“Come on!” Potts ordered the disheveled Cohen and Hawkins.
With this, Potts began to run, leaving the other two men looking at one another.
“Come on!” he barked over his shoulder. “The civilians! They’re not at the bunker yet!”
CHAPTER 32
The group was nearing the end of the field. They were moving faster now after having heard a barrage of gunfire coming from the area around the pass. They had all stopped and stood motionless as gunshot after gunshot rang out. They stood motionless, that is, until they heard the monster howling, then everyone took off like they’d been shot out of a cannon.
“Stay together!” FranAnne yelled over the rain.
The lightning was flashing every few seconds allowing everyone to see where they were going. After one lightning bolt, Kyler thought he saw the building a couple of hundred yards ahead. He had the biggest urge to just take off and get to the building as quickly as he could. He couldn’t stand this slow jogging, but he couldn’t just leave everyone to their own devices. Sam and Zack were once again carrying Michael Blum who had started to lag behind about the time that they had first heard the werewolf start to howl.
The group reached the end of the field and stopped. FranAnne took her pistol out and looked behind them. Crap, it might as well be daylight out with all of the lightning bolts flashing across the sky. It was great for seeing where they were going, but the downside to that was that it also allowed the monster to see where they were going, too.
“We’ve got about a hundred yards or so to go! The building is right over there! Let’s get to it!” she screamed.
She began to run toward the gates, which could’ve been no more than fifty or sixty yards ahead of them. Problem was…it was another field. If that thing came at them, there was no place to hide other than a small grove of about ten trees that might not even be there anymore. As she ran, she began to wonder about Potts, Sgt. Cohen, Hawkins, and Gibson. Had they met their fate at the hands of the werewolf? She supposed that that really wasn’t any of her concern, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she was the last soldier carrying the last firearm that stood between them and thing.
Kyler was sticking to the center of the pack, trying to keep an eye on everyone, but having trouble battling the elements and carrying a crying baby that he wished wasn’t crying because she was giving their position away.
They were no more than twenty yards from the gate, when he turned to Nurse Walling to see how she was doing. Just as they made eye contact, something flew past him and into the nurse, knocking her down. She screamed loudly and he knew by the sound of the growl and the ripping of flesh that the monster was among them and had taken another victim. He wasn’t the only one who saw it, because the crowd began to panic and run haphazardly toward the gates.
“Move! Move!” yelled Gringo, who began to run at full gait toward the bunker fence.
Once again, like a herd of frightened cattle, the group began to race toward the gates….which were closed. FranAnne was the first to reach the gates followed quickly by the rest of the group. Shit, they weren’t just closed, they were locked with a chain and padlock. She turned and looked over her shoulder to see the beast coming toward them. It was covered in blood and snarling. She took out her pistol and aimed it at the thing, her hand shaking. She pulled the trigger and hit the beast dead on in the chest, but it only slowed it a little.
“Shoot the lock!” Gringo screamed. “Shoot the lock!”
FranAnne didn’t want to take her eyes off of the beast, but she had to. She grabbed a piece of the chain and held the muzzle to it, fired, and missed. The crowd screamed in terror behind her. She turned around to see that the beast was no more than twenty feet away from them, stalking them, enjoying the hunt. This must be what like shooting fish in a barrel was like for a werewolf.
As the thing raised its arm to swat Locklear O’Hearley, who was closest to it, a growl was heard from their left. In the darkness, they all silently wondered what was taking the thing so long to swing at them. Then they saw it. Joe was hanging from its arm/foreleg, and was chomping down hard. The thing was howling in pain and trying to shake the dog, but Joe had a good solid bite on it and wasn’t letting go even though his body swung and twisted above the ground.
FranAnne turned to the gate once again, and held the muzzle to the chain. She fired, and this time the chain links snapped in two and she and Kyler began to unravel the chain and push open the gates, the crowd surging through at once. Michael Blum had been knocked down and was struggling to get up. Sam Fong reached down to help him up, neither taking their eyes off of Joe who had let go of the monster’s arm and had begun to nip at its heels, causing the werewolf to go round and round in a circle, trying to kill the infernal pest.
The group began sprinting toward the building. There was no uniformity in their running now. They were just trying to get away from the werewolf.
As Kyler sprinted, he heard footsteps running fast behind him and to his left. They grew louder and louder telling him that whoever it was, was about to pass him. As they began to pass Kyler, his instincts made him look to see who was running so fast. When he saw who it was, he almost stumbled and fell, because it wasn’t Zack Olsen or Sam Fong or even Zora who could move pretty fast that was passing him up. The thing that was passing him up was wearing a rain soaked white nightgown and had long white hair trailing behind it. It was Opal Munn. Not only was it Opal Munn, but Wilbur Munn, her grandson, was unconscio
us and lying across her shoulder.
She passed him up with ease, even smiling at him with her new creepy smile as she did so. Kyler had heard of people having superhuman strength when they were scared, but he had never heard of any thing like this. Not only did she pass him up, but he was now watching her as she zigzagged around debris and jumped over a tree stump. She was almost flying, her bare feet sloshing through the water as she ran.
Kyler heard a yelp behind him, and figured that the werewolf must have finally gotten Joe. The dog had bought them some time. Good dog.
As they reached the two large steel doors, FranAnne stopped. There was a card slot and a keypad and she was privy to neither one.
“Move!” Locklear shouted, taking out a cardkey.
Kyler looked back and saw that the thing was moving toward them, limping as it ran. Come on! Open the door! Open the door!
After a moment, Kyler heard the beeps of a keypad being used, then a click. The two steel doors opened and everyone began to move inside. He could see that the lobby was dimly lit. Kyler turned and saw that the thing had not given up on them. It was moving slowly, but it was gaining ground.
“Move!” Kyler screamed. “Move!”
It was no more than thirty feet away from him when he finally heaved against the whole crowd and fell into the room. They could all see the thing moving up the steps as Locklear pushed a button and the doors began to close. They could almost see the werewolf’s face just as the doors closed in front of it and a loud thud was heard against one of the steel doors. Kyler lay on the floor looking up. He heard growling right next to his ear. Oh no, the son-of-a-bitch was in and was about to have him for dinner. But it wasn’t the werewolf. It was Joe that was doing the growling. He had managed to slip in just before the doors closed. He was soaking wet with a large flap of skin hanging from his side and he had a large gash just above his eye, but to Kyler, he looked like the prettiest paper carrying, pure breed show dog there’d ever been. He had bought them time.
The whole group was lying on the floor, breathing heavily. The thing continued to pound on the doors, but it didn’t seem to be making any real headway. Its howl sounded faint which meant that the steel was heavily enforced.
Shelly Dixon immediately ran for the gym bag, opened it up, and took little Kayla out who was still crying. She cooed and cuddled her, her body swaying back and forth. Michael Blum was sitting on the floor, rubbing his broken leg. Wilbur Munn was slowly coming to as Opal sat next to him on the floor. Kyler couldn’t help but stare at her. He had watched as she passed him up in a terror filled, scared shitless, footrace, and she beat him while carrying a grown man over shoulders. That was not humanly possible and they both knew it, but there it was. He wondered if anyone else had seen her. And where had they come from? They weren’t with them when they stopped at the end of the pass.
His mind flashed to Nurse Walling. She hadn’t screamed for very long when the thing attacked her. He hoped that her death was quick and painless. She had almost made it. Almost sixty years old and she had been right there next to him through this whole ordeal, only to die half a football field away from safety. He lay down on his back and stared at the ceiling. He could’ve fallen asleep right there.
“Hey, Doc!” It was Gringo. “Can you help me out over here! Hurry, Doc!”
Kyler sat up, rolled over onto his side, and then onto his knees. He was exhausted…as were they all, but they weren’t doctors, he was. He stood up and walked over to where Gringo sat, Samantha in his arms, unconscious. He bent down next to her to look at her neck. Her army shirt was still open from Gringo posing her with the monster.
“How’d this happen?” Kyler asked, looking at Gringo.
“She got bit, that’s how it happened!” he answered tersely, not looking back at Kyler.
“It’s too dark in here. Did anyone remember to bring a flashlight?”
Before he got the words out of his mouth, Sam Fong had one in front of him and was shining it down on Samantha.
Kyler removed the tourniquet and looked at her wound. Blood had crusted over it, but he could see that it was the size of his fist. He carefully began to wipe away the blood. When he got enough of it off of the wound, he saw a hole in her neck. Massive amounts of skin were completely torn from her neck. He could almost see her neck muscles. He wanted to vomit, but thought better of it. It wouldn’t help things if the only doctor began to puke his guts out in front of everyone.
“Nurse Wa…” he caught himself before he said her name.
“Where is the Nurse?” Zora asked, standing over him.
“It got her,” he answered, not looking up. “Burt Burns, too.”
A collective gasp went around the room. Kyler kept his eyes on Samantha’s wound. By this time, Sylvia had knelt down next to them.
“How is she?” she asked, looking almost ancient with her hair wet and her eyes trying to adjust to her surroundings.
“She’s not good,” he replied. He couldn’t believe he’d answered so callously, but he was frayed at the edges. He was wet, cold, and his heart was still beating at ninety miles an hour. He was completely devoid of bedside manners right now.
“The doggie’s hurt,” he heard Lauren O’Hearley say in a concerned voice.
“Joe will be fine, Sweetie,” Kyler said, not looking up. “I’ll look at him in a little while. Right now, I’ve got to take care of us.”
Lauren bent down next to Joe, who sat on his haunches, panting, his golden fur wet, coarse and caked with blood. Michael scooted on the floor next to Joe and Lauren, and began to softly pet him, scratching him behind the ears.
“He saved our lives,” Michael said aloud.
“He did at that,” Sam Fong said, looking down at the dog.
Zack Olsen was sitting next to his father, who still remained in his catatonic state. How had he run on his own and gotten away from that thing? Zack watched him for a moment. He had hated his father so much last night for leaving his mother and grandmother to the werewolf, but now he pitied him. He wasn’t sure he really loved him…at that moment, forgiveness was coming hard for him, but the hate he had felt was dwindling.
“Do you hear that?” Ariella O’Hearley asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” Locklear answered.
“Exactly. It’s not pounding on the door anymore.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Locklear.
“Maybe it’s searching for another way in,” FranAnne said, pulling her revolver again.
No sooner had she said that, when they heard gunshots outside, making them all jump.
“Its still here!” Shelly Dixon screamed, holding Kayla even tighter.
“That means one of the guys is still alive!” FranAnne exclaimed.
“Without a word, Locklear ran over to the security desk, followed closely by Sam Fong and FranAnne. They looked at the eight security monitors, which were completely dark.
“The power must be out,” Sam Fong said disappointed.
“Are you kidding me?” Locklear asked, looking for the on switch. “Do you really think this place wouldn’t have some sort of back up?”
He flipped a switch and the monitors came to life. There on monitor number three stood Potts, Hawkins, and Sgt. Cohen, all back to back, guns drawn.
“Open the damn door!” Potts yelled looking into the camera.
The three scrambled around for the intercom button. FranAnne found it and pushed it.
“Go to the front door!” she yelled into intercom.
Without another word, the three men sprinted for the door. With almost each step they took, a security monitor picked them up. They looked like a couple of cartoon characters running from one panel into another one. Locklear ran to the door and pushed a set of numbers on a keypad that sat on the wall next to it. The two steel doors began to open. Before they were barely opened, Sgt. Cohen fell into the room, followed by Pvt. Hawkins, and then, naturally, Potts himself. The three scrambled to make sure they were clear of the door
, before Locklear closed it.
“Is it still out there, Sir?” FranAnne asked as Potts and Hawkins got to their feet. Cohen remained on the floor, breathing heavily.
“We didn’t see it outside the building,” he answered, wiping the rain out of his hair. “I was shooting to get your attention. But we saw it earlier…it got Gibson.”
Another gasp went around the room. Potts looked down at Sgt. Cohen who remained prostrate.
“Are you okay, Sergeant?” he asked.
All the sergeant could do was nod his head.
“Doc, can you look at my man over here?”
“I’m busy at the moment, Colonel,” Kyler answered, matter of fact.
“Well then, where’s that bitchy old nurse of yours?
The room got quiet. Everyone looked at Kyler.
“She’s dead, Colonel.”
Those words seemed to deflate Potts. No longer did he look like the guy in charge, for as soon as he heard that the nurse was dead, his face dropped, and suddenly, he looked drawn and old.
“That’s a shame,” was all that he could say before walking over to where Kyler and Gringo sat, still holding Samantha. He removed his revolver from its holster and pointed it at Gringo.
“I oughta blow your head off right now,” he said through clenched teeth.
Stunned, everyone in the room began to slowly move away from Potts like they did in those old time westerns when a gunfight was starting to unfold. Kyler looked up.
“What are you doing, Colonel?” he asked cautiously, not too fond of a pistol so close to his face. Gringo, for his part just stared up at Potts, nervous, but unafraid.
“This son-of-a-bitch almost got me and his little cutie there killed.”
