Feral

by Serafini, Matt

  Elisabeth dropped to all fours; the stone corridor was painful on her paws.

  Ahead, a cool whiff of mountain air promised escape.

  She and Allen would not be welcome amongst the survivors of this massacre. They'd hit the mountain pass and keep moving, putting distance between them and Greifsfield.

  They'd leave for Romania as soon as possible.

  The stagnant air thinned, dissipating in the wake of the clean forest smell. Up ahead, a patch of light brought with it the promise of nature.

  The mountain pass.

  Behind her, Allen growled his approval.

  They'd made it. She had wanted badly to kill the crusader, but the pathetic sight on the stairwell would not survive much longer.

  A wolf lumbered into view ahead, completely annihilating the view of mountain pass beyond it.

  Elisabeth skidded to a halt, snapping her neck back toward Allen, barking that he holds his place behind her.

  Allen made no motion forward.

  The obstructing wolf started its approach, slumping over as it charged. Two familiar eyes glowed yellow in the gloom, fastened to Elisabeth with a look of unfinished business.

  Fane.

  Elisabeth ran toward him, knowing full well it was Allen he wanted. He could hurt her, but he lacked the means to finish the job. She wouldn't let her enemy intimidate her, nor would he trump her in battle. And he wasn't touching Allen.

  Not after all the things he'd taken from her, then and now.

  Fane's massive form bore, allowing for zero maneuverability. He should've let them get into the open air. This was a tactical mistake on his part.

  Elisabeth leapt to her hinds and lashed out.

  The male wolf whimpered in surprise but didn't withdraw. He launched from the lumpy, stone floor.

  The blow connected with Elisabeth, tearing through the skin and fur atop her head. Her scalp itched with trickling blood, though she wouldn't stop. She went on the offense, locking her body against his—their talons raking at one another.

  Flesh tore loose, blood splattered and both creatures snarled centuries of simmering anger.

  Elisabeth lowered her muzzle to Fane's throat, going for the bite.

  The older, larger wolf lowered his muzzle, blocking his neck. His head butted forward, knocking against hers.

  Momentarily dazed, she shook free from the fuzzy whites and sent her claws flailing. They tore into Fane's thick, grey fur, slashing into the flesh buried below. The older wolf whimpered. He snapped and clawed back, unable to land a blow. His abilities dulled from forcing others to fight every battle for him.

  Allen joined in, scraping flesh off Fane's back with a battle cry.

  Elisabeth was smaller, but every slash into her old sire vindicated her. He'd made her for no other reason than piggish lust. The first time he had her she hadn't been willing, terrified by the monster growing inside of her. Her tears only seemed to excite him more. That he expected her to maintain a constant air of respect after that had always gnawed at her. This was cathartic.

  Though Fane had always been stronger. He landed a blow on the side of her face, claws tearing her mouth and nose.

  She didn't whimper—he didn't get to have the satisfaction. Instead, she flashed her teeth and lowered her head, taking a juicy bite out of Fane's chest.

  Her mouth popped with reliable blood that was marred by an unpleasant taste of fur. Without chewing, she bit again, using the open wound as her point of contact.

  The bout of pain gave Fane an obvious surge. He roared and took Allen by the neck, flinging him overhead.

  Elisabeth scrambled to her paws, spying a stream of blood gathering on the floor beside him. Beyond him Allen scampered toward the safety of Greyrock Mountain, hurt and vulnerable.

  She attacked again, springing to her hinds and thrusting her front paws forward with a howl. They sank into the large wolf with an echoed squish.

  He whimpered and then batted her away with a punch to the head.

  Stunned, she smashed the bricks and crawled forward, determined to keep her consciousness intact.

  The house overhead exploded.

  The earth rumbled and shook, raining debris around them. The fire most likely reaching whatever heat source powered the house. Another explosion followed—judgment thundering all around them.

  Elisabeth was on her legs and running when the fireball swept through the confined stone throughway. In a flash, Fane's features lit up in blinding light, every bloody wound evident, before he was swallowed by the mush of incinerating flame.

  The fire nipped at her tail, singing it. She pushed forward, almost to safety.

  She hit the mountainside running, cutting her paws into the earth and forcing herself to take a hard right turn, leaping free of the gusting flame.

  From the woods, Allen whimpered.

  Elisabeth ran toward him, dodging the remnants of Fane's followers who fled the mountainside.

  Beyond the first row of trees, she found him pinned beneath the paws of a steely white-haired wolf. Her talons invaded him and her tongue dangled, panting in triumph over the pain she caused.

  Elisabeth's tattered lips curled back, flashing her white fangs. It was the closest thing to a smile a wolf could achieve, and this was long overdue. It was even going to be fun.

  She ran forward.

  Julianna turned.

  Elisabeth struck first. Her arm rocketed forward, sending a glove of claws piercing straight through the back of her neck, shattering bones and slicing sinew. Julianna shrieked and choked on Elisabeth's arm as it pushed rows of teeth free from their gums; her beautiful black coat slicked with stringy gore as her arm continued its incursion with a slurping, sucking sound. Her talons wiggled past the white wolf's snout as her free paw took hold of her muzzle, cracking it upward with a hate-filled snarl.

  Elisabeth tore the wolf's head free from its neck and kicked the lifeless body aside without another thought. Her aural senses flared in that moment. Three wolves peered through the cracks in the forest green, hissing their disapproval over the reunited lovers.

  She stood on her hind legs, her face twisted into a hostile scowl. She inched toward the cowardly creatures in a conqueror's pose, urging them to face her. Wasn't yet within striking distance when they hauled off scampering through the night.

  Allen was slow to his feet. His wounds were plenty, but superficial.

  Elisabeth pressed against him in a show of affection that lasted a few seconds. Then a reignited sense of urgency took them. The longer they stayed here the faster they'd find themselves in another fight.

  He nipped her neck and she allowed him to catch her just this once. They trotted off through the forest together.

  Behind them, the mansion on the hill was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ruin.

  ***

  All Amanda could do was hope. Her clothes were wet and plastered to her body. How did she even have this much blood inside of her? It seemed to be coming from every orifice, running with endless momentum.

  It couldn't be much longer before she bled out.

  "It's here," Jack said. "I'm going to put you down for a second." His voice drifted in and out of her ears in concordance with her fluttering eyes.

  Jack brought her up against a wall and she shifted her weight to it, leaving him to tear at the padlocked, circular plate that prevented further advancement.

  It wouldn't budge so he pointed the pistol at it and fired. Two shots. Three. With the padlocks gone, he pushed his shoulder into a thrust. The plate fell off the wall, revealing a small, black tunnel.

  "This is our ticket out."

  Amanda didn't think she could. It hurt just thinking about navigating the tiny space, let alone doing it. Laying down right here and going to sleep was a far more preferable option.

  Jack wasn't having it. "Let's go, dammit," he said, slinging her flimsy arm over his shoulder. They sauntered to the hole and Jack eased Amanda up into it. A sheet of blood spilled from her, padding his
hands as she climbed up. "I'll be right behind you," he said.

  Amanda crawled like a worm. This was easier than walking, but every bit as painful. Every shuffle was incentive to give up and close her eyes.

  But she pushed through the pain, astounded by the thoughts running unfiltered through her head. Things she hadn't thought about in years—not since taking this job. It was amazing how life became precious and important the second it was threatened. She'd spent the last year daring Dexter to send her on the wildest jobs in the pipeline. Then, when the finality of death seemed like it might just bring her some peace—

  How stupid...

  The cramped crawlspace shot them out into a small groundswell on the mountainside. Her ass smacked muddy water, sending the sixtieth crushing blow of pain to her spine.

  Jack crashed beside her. He was up in a second, easing Amanda to her feet. "You're okay, right? Let's go."

  They continued down the mountain, disappearing into the trees. Behind them, an explosion rocked the mountainside.

  "Holy shit," Jack said, pointing through the darkness. "Do you see that?"

  Amanda muttered that she couldn't see anything through her steadily worsening vision.

  "I wonder if we can drive it?"

  A truck wearing a familiar blue paint job fell into focus as they neared it.

  A wolf leapt from the passenger's seat, straight through the shattered windshield. Jack took aim with his free hand and squeezed the trigger, dropping it dead at their feet.

  "One shot left," he said. "Where do you think your friend is?" They crossed the front of the truck, surprised to find the vehicle idling. Jack tugged at the passenger door. It opened and they both gasped.

  Fontaine's mutilated carcass lay sprawled across the floor.

  Amanda climbed up regardless, reaching across the way to open the driver's door. Jack came around and pulled the headless corpse from the seat. He jumped in, booted the severed head with his foot, and threw the truck in drive.

  They were off.

  The scene of carnage wasn't relegated to Fane's mansion, just as Allen had said. Bodies littered the streets of Greifsfield in the wake of tonight's mass turning. Abandoned cars transformed the main roads into one perverse obstacle course.

  A wolf pounced from the top of a nearby wreck, landing squarely on the hood of the truck. Jack swung the pistol up and fired through the open windshield. The creature shrieked, then fell beneath the tires. The truck rumbled over it with a gratifying crunch.

  "We've got to get you to a doctor," Jack said, swerving around another charging wolf. "As soon as we're far enough away from this hellhole."

  A doctor sounded good. There'd be no explaining her injuries or apparel, though. Not that it mattered. She wanted to live. She'd worry about the rest later. Dexter had connections all over the place. He could go the distance to ensure one of his own got patched up without suspicion.

  "You came back for me. You didn't have to do that."

  "Funny way of showing gratitude."

  "So you have to be severely injured before you lighten up?"

  "I guess...nothing's funnier than losing a swordfight to a werewolf bitch, right?"

  "Nothing."

  She was tired. Her eyes weren't the only things heavy. Every limb hung limp, burdened by unseen weights. Could barely tilt her head back to take the load off. At least the pain was distant now—her body lapsing into shock.

  Being tired was a hell of a lot better than suffering.

  She didn't regret coming back for him. If Jack could cling to the will to live, then she could do it too. Hadn't done much living over the past few years, but it was never too late to start.

  As long as Jack proved his worth and found a hospital out this way. Might've been one in the next town over but there was no way of remembering where that was. Her brain powered down and even recalling her name felt like too much effort right now.

  "Stay with me," Jack said, his voice louder than normal.

  She couldn't see him. Wasn't sure if her eyes were open or not.

  "Amanda, talk to me."

  "I'm talking..."

  "Tell me why you came back for me. For real. I would've been one of them by now if you hadn't."

  "Maybe you'd have your friend back if I'd let that happen."

  "Three's a crowd. I wouldn't have been welcome in that circle. With Allen, we were always about biding his time until the right one came along. I never realized it until now."

  "I had a friend like that, too..." her thoughts fell from her lips sluggishly. "Back in high school...she wanted to be married the second she graduated."

  "She go through with it?"

  "Didn't make it to graduation...none of us did."

  Amanda felt the car come to a screeching halt while Jack screamed out.

  The truck skidded across the tarmac, its rear swinging across the highway.

  Amanda opened her eyes.

  A tractor-trailer had jackknifed, lying on its side, spread across both lanes. Smoke bellowed from beneath the hood and a body lay sprawled across the opened passenger door.

  "I think you'd better check to see if you've got any more bullets for this." Jack tapped the pistol sitting beside him.

  "I'm cleaned out."

  "This is bad."

  It was. No getting around that truck. The forest sat to the left, its dark presence lording over them, taunting them to go ahead and try to make passage through it. To the right, a cliffside drop into a rock formation below.

  "Turn around," she said. "Take us back through Greifsfield."

  "Every one of those things is going to be after us. Already took out the whole town from the looks of it. We're going to be pretty easy to spot trying to sneak through undetected."

  "Our only other option is to sit here and wait for them to catch us. Turn us around, Jack. Take us back."

  Reversing directions, Jack mumbled "shit" and pressed a foot to the gas. The truck amped up and they tore back over the town limit.

  The werewolves were waiting.

  A pack of them, no less than a dozen, lined the streets, growing in unison.

  Jack didn't stop. Amanda felt the truck speed up, weaving around the same mounds of twisted metal. The wolves converged on the truck and pounced for it.

  Jack cleared the mess with a heavy foot on the accelerator. Any mistake and they'd be dead. Any slower and the wolves would catch them. And they'd be dead.

  They roared through the downtown strip, a grim apocalyptic scene of smashed storefronts, burning cars and scattered corpses. The carnage raced past them at what must've been a buck ten. In the rearview, more wolves were in hot pursuit.

  The truck took a sharp corner, barreling down Route 8 past a sign promising the town of Adams in sixteen miles.

  Hopefully, enough space to get clear of these things.

  She wheezed and felt the sting of bitter plasma at the back of her throat.

  Jack continued talking to her, but his voice was hollow and distant, like he was calling to her from a far-flung hallway.

  The truck sped up again as her head fell against the passenger window. A view of the constant forest whipped past through fluttering eyes.

  They'd find a hospital soon. She'd get fixed up, all nice and good. And she'd look upon this job, and life, with some newfound respect.

  I might even take a vacation...been years since I've worn a bikini...had a real tan instead of that spray-on shit...

  All she had to do was rest. It was all she could do. She closed her eyes and drifted off.

  The town of Greifsfield was behind them, but the bone-white moon shining overhead in a cloudless sky was a grim reminder that the horror was still out there.

  Waiting.

  #

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Matt Serafini is the author of Feral, Under the Blade, and Devil’s Row (forthcoming). He also co-authored an eBook collection of short stories with Adam Cesare called All-Night Terror. A lifelong horror fan, he is a regular contributor to D
read Central, and you can catch him on their Dinner for Fiends podcast.

  Matt lives in Central Massachusetts with his wife, Michelle, where he spends way too much time tracking down obscure slasher movies. When he’s not doing that, he’s hard at work on his next novel.