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The Frenzy Wolves

Page 27

by Gregory Lamberson


  The blood tasted good. It felt intoxicating. And as the Wolf who had helped him discover his true nature by bringing him to the point of death went spastic and died, Mace felt alive and aware for the first time in his life.

  Cheryl scooped up Patty and ran around the bed to the far window. Using the butt of the .38, she hammered at the glass, shattering it in sheets. She used the gun’s barrel to break the jagged edges of broken glass protruding from the frame. There was no way Patty would survive a fall from the second-floor window, but if Cheryl jumped with her, Cheryl could protect her from the impact. The challenge would be to squeeze through the window. She needed to keep one hand free.

  Gomez staggered into the room, his fur dripping with blood. Even hunched over, he stood taller than Cheryl. She remembered covering his trial and interviewing him at Sing Sing. They shared history.

  Cheryl raised the .38, took careful aim, and fired twice into the beast’s chest, adding to the gore. Gomez stumbled and seized the edge of the footboard to keep from falling. Cheryl dropped the .38 on the floor, then threw one leg out the window. Gomez growled. She held Patty close to the sill and moved her other leg out the window. Gomez lunged toward the bed. Cheryl doubted they would drop before he reached them.

  And then Gomez disappeared, jerked into the hallway by some unseen force.

  Cheryl blinked in bewilderment. Had he retreated? It made no sense. Frenzied growls reached her, the barks and grunts of other wild animals and the terrible sounds of flesh tearing and blood splashing on the walls, followed by the anguished howl of a vanquished wolf.

  Standing on the rooftop, Gabriel could only watch as the blue and white helicopter, emblazoned with NYPD on its side, moved closer. He peered over the edge of the roof. Police cars and a fire truck occupied the street, which had been closed off to the public. Scores of uniformed men carrying guns ran back and forth on the asphalt, and crowds of civilians pressed against the barriers erected at each end of the block. He knew there was no escape.

  Inside the helicopter, a SWAT officer fired a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, and a projectile raced toward the roof, trailing white smoke. The Brotherhood of Torquemada had used such a weapon to destroy the home of Rhonda Wilson’s parents, killing them along with the plainclothes policemen tasked with protecting them.

  A defiant howl filled the night, and he turned to see Raphael facing the helicopter with outstretched arms. Gabriel dove at his brother, knocking him aside, and the missile struck the roof and exploded. Blinding white smoke engulfed the Wolves, and Gabriel realized the missile’s purpose: to disperse gas. He rose, coughed, then dropped to his knees. The last thing he saw was Raphael leaping onto the edge of the roof and then diving off it.

  Thirty-Seven

  Look out!” Landry cried as Norton opened the front door of the building and stood poised to stagger out.

  Drenched in her own blood, Norton froze.

  A dark figure plummeted from the rooftop and struck the sidewalk headfirst with a sickening snap. The Wolf lay still in a bloody, broken heap.

  Landry ran over to Norton, and she collapsed in his arms. “Medic!” he said.

  An army of SWAT officers stormed into the building.

  Karol rushed into the squad room, where Mace lay on the floor covered in blood. She snatched her shoes and socks from the floor and moved toward him, her eyes widening and her nostrils flaring. She kneeled at his side and sniffed the air. “Oh, my God.”

  “I can’t move,” Mace said. “Every muscle in my body is in agony.”

  She set one hand on his shoulder. “That happens at first.”

  He stared at her. “Did you know?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve been a sleeper in human form your entire life. Your scent was human all this time.”

  “And now?”

  “You’re one of us.” Sitting on the floor, she put on her socks and shoes.

  Mace nodded at the carcass on the floor. “Who was it?”

  “Elias Michalakis.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  Rising, she went to her desk, opened a drawer, and returned with a water bottle. She unscrewed the cap and poured water over his face. “Drink. I don’t think you want anyone to see you with blood all over your mouth.”

  Mace swished water around in his mouth and swallowed. “What about Gabriel?”

  Karol glanced at the ceiling. “I don’t know. When I realized Elias hadn’t followed me, I had to come back for you.”

  “Thanks. Who was the other one?”

  “Leon, one of Raphael’s men.”

  “We have to find Norton.”

  Ten SWAT members ran into the squad room with M16As ready to fire.

  Karol raised her shield. “This floor’s clear.”

  The lead SWAT member looked at the carcass of the Wolf, then at Mace. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Mace said. But was he? “We need to locate Special Agent Norton.”

  “She’s down on the street.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “It’s hard to say. It looked like one of those things chewed her up pretty badly.”

  The lights flickered on.

  Cheryl remained frozen in the window. Waiting. Listening. Patty bawled. Cheryl set her foot on the floor, then swung her other leg inside. She set Patty on the bed, then walked to her bureau, opened a drawer, and took out the box of ammunition. She picked up the .38, popped its cylinder, loaded six rounds, and snapped the cylinder shut.

  Then she picked Patty up and ventured into the hallway, where she gasped.

  Gomez was dead, his body dismembered and strewn along the hallway, the carpet soaking with blood and the walls dripping. Cheryl didn’t understand. Outside, sirens grew louder. She walked through the hall, finding it impossible to keep her bare feet from squishing blood, flesh, and fur. She emerged into the living room, where she stood holding Patty, the two of them alone.

  Mace limped to the elevator, one arm draped over Karol’s shoulders. She supported him with one arm around his waist, and he groaned with every step.

  “My muscles are on fire,” he said. “My bones . . .”

  “You should have waited for a stretcher.”

  “I need fresh air now,” he said.

  SWAT members swarmed the hallway. The elevator door opened, and Hector and Suzie got off.

  “Looking good as always, Captain,” Hector said.

  “How’s Norton?” Mace said.

  “She’ll be fine,” Suzie said. “An ambulance is taking her to Bellevue. You should join her.”

  “What happened?”

  “She killed one of those things in the freight elevator shaft,” Hector said. “Badass.”

  “We need to see that carcass,” Mace said to Karol.

  They boarded the elevator, and the door closed.

  “Gomez wasn’t part of this,” Karol said. “I don’t smell his scent anywhere. The other Wolf must have been Eddie, Raphael’s other lieutenant. I saw them together today.”

  “I have to know,” Mace said. “This isn’t over until Gomez has been caught.”

  “You won’t be doing anything for at least a week.”

  His phone rang. “Would you mind getting that?”

  Karol slid her hand into Mace’s pocket and took out his phone. She showed him Cheryl’s name on the screen. He nodded, and she held the phone to his ear.

  “Yeah, babe?” he said.

  “Where are you?” Cheryl said in a trembling voice.

  “Wolves attacked the building, but everyone’s alive.” It felt good to say that.

  Cheryl’s voice hardened. “Gomez was here.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “He’s dead, but he killed Sniper and two police officers. There are bodies—blood—all over the apartment.”

  Sniper. Mace had loved the dog. “Are you and Patty okay?”

  “He didn’t get to hurt us, but he came close.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She hun
g up.

  The elevator came to a stop, and they almost collided with Hollander when the door opened.

  “You need to get home,” Hollander said. “I have a car waiting to take you.”

  “Williams will drive me.”

  “She needs to be checked out by the EMTs, and then she’s got a long night of debriefing ahead of her.”

  Wincing from the pain, Mace raised his left arm and checked his watch. “It isn’t midnight yet. I’m still in charge of the task force. She’s taking me.”

  “I look forward to reading your reports.” Hollander stared at him, then boarded the elevator.

  Mace and Karol went out the front door. SWAT team members crisscrossed the street, and more than one helicopter hovered overhead. On the sidewalk, FBI agents drew a black tarp over the shattered corpse of a Wolf.

  “Raphael,” Karol whispered into Mace’s ear.

  “Tony!” Landry raced over to them.

  “I know,” Mace said. “We’re leaving now.”

  “Are you both okay?”

  “Yes.” Mace looked at his SUV, which had been cordoned off with crime scene tape. “I guess I need another vehicle.”

  “I’m parked on the next block,” Karol said.

  The three of them circled the fire engine, Karol still supporting Mace.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Landry said.

  Mace tried to smile. “No, you’re done. We all are. Let the FBI and SWAT clean up this mess.”

  Landry raised his eyes. “Look.”

  Karol had to walk Mace in a half circle so he could follow Landry’s gaze. A military helicopter hovered above SWAT team members on the roof, lifting a gurney on a cable into the air. The gurney turned in circles.

  Gabriel, Mace thought. At least he was alive.

  The gurney disappeared into the belly of the chopper, and a minute later the aircraft departed.

  Karol steered her SUV out of Chinatown. Patrol cars, ambulances, and news vans clogged the streets. National Guard troop transports rolled through an intersection.

  “Here we go,” Karol said.

  “It’s the dawning of a new era,” Mace said. His knees wobbled, and when he set his hands on them they shook too. “Shouldn’t you be across the border by now?”

  “That isn’t going to happen. I have to keep the promise I made to Gabriel. It looks like I’m stuck in the big city.”

  “They’re going to come after Rhonda,” he said. The vehicle reeked of gasoline and oil.

  “I don’t think they’ll find her.”

  “Let’s coordinate our stories.” Like how my life changed forever.

  “We were separated and didn’t see what happened to each other,” she said. “That way we can’t trip each other up.”

  “You’re good at this.” The muscles in his jaw felt tight, and he found it difficult to speak.

  “It’s called survival.”

  “Do I get a membership card?”

  “They’re worthless now. There’s no more pack. It’s every Wolf for himself.”

  Mace opened and closed his fingers. “Gomez taught himself everything he needed to know. Will I be able to do the same?”

  “Do yourself a favor: whatever story you tell the FBI, make yourself believe it. Forget what happened. You’re still Tony Mace, a middle-aged bureaucrat with thinning hair, a beautiful wife, and a gorgeous daughter. Consider her a miracle, by the way. Few human-Wolf hybrids survive childbirth.”

  Patty, Mace thought. He had failed to consider the full picture. “We tried to have children for years. Cheryl had four miscarriages, and we’d just about given up. Is Patty . . . ?”

  “No. The gene isn’t strong enough. Both of your parents must have been Wolves.”

  Mace narrowed his eyes. And his brother, killed in the war. “And their siblings . . .”

  “This may be the worst time in our history to poke at family trees. Leave it alone. And for God’s sake, don’t ever tell your wife.”

  Police cars blocked Eighty-fourth Street, and Mace and Karol had to show their IDs to get in. Emergency response vehicles of all types had double-parked along the street, and Karol had to triple-park in front of Mace’s house. Mace opened the door to get out and fell face-first onto the pavement.

  “Whoa,” a PO said.

  Karol ran around the SUV and joined the PO in helping Mace stand. “What part of the healing process didn’t you understand?”

  Mace groaned. “It’s getting worse.”

  “It’s bound to get worse before it gets better.”

  Cheryl sat holding Patty inside the rear of an ambulance, answering the questions of detectives.

  Karol helped Mace to the ambulance.

  “Excuse me,” Cheryl said to the detectives. She climbed out of the ambulance with Patty in her arms, and the detectives parted. Her eyes widened when she saw Mace. “I thought you said you were okay.”

  “I said we were alive.” He kissed Patty’s forehead. “Why aren’t you in the house? The Sanchezes’ apartment isn’t hot, is it?”

  “I’m never setting foot in that house again.”

  He took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

  Cheryl buried her head against his chest, ignoring the bloodstains. Her chest convulsed, and she wept.

  “The police didn’t kill him.” She looked into his eyes. “It was more of them. It sounded like an entire pack of dogs fighting.”

  Mace touched her face. Gabriel had made sure she and Patty were protected.

  “Do you want a lift somewhere?” Karol said. “Some luxurious hotel or something? You all deserve it.”

  “We have Cheryl’s car,” Mace said.

  “Then I’ll be on my way. I think I’ll go see how Norton’s doing.”

  “Let me know, and give her my best.”

  “Stay in touch,” she said.

  “I will.” He meant it.

  “Good night, Mrs. Mace.”

  Cheryl wiped tears from her eyes and choked back an embarrassed laugh. “Look at me. Good night . . . Karol.”

  Karol waved to Patty. “Bye-bye, little one.” She returned to her SUV, got in, and drove off.

  The front door to the house was open, and a forensics team swarmed the downstairs hallway. In the driveway, the Sanchezes answered questions from two FBI agents.

  Eduardo glanced in his direction. Mace made eye contact with him, then gave the man a small nod. He and Cheryl had rented the downstairs apartment to the Sanchezes soon after they bought the house. Gabriel must have sent them here to spy on him in the beginning. He would thank the family for saving Cheryl’s and Patty’s lives another time.

  Epilogue

  Gabriel opened his eyes, and a sterile white ceiling came into view. He raised his hand and gazed at human fingers that he opened and closed. He didn’t remember turning into human form or being transported; he only remembered the sight of Raphael diving off the rooftop of the building on Mott Street.

  He touched his throat: a metal collar encircled his neck. His gaze darted around the small room, which had bare white walls, an exposed toilet, a sink, and a shower with no curtain or door. He wore an orange jumpsuit with slippers, and when he sat up he realized the bed was made of wood. The fourth wall was made of Plexiglas or acrylic and looked out at a common area with furniture and gymnastic mats. A camera looked down at him from each corner of the room.

  Rising, he touched the walls. They were made of steel.

  The clear wall slid open with a quiet hum. Moving to the doorway, he saw no windows in the entire chamber. He walked into the common area and saw that his cell was one of twenty or thirty on the ground floor, with five levels of identical cells above it. All of them were unoccupied.

  “Good morning, Mr. Domini,” a voice boomed over the wall speakers.

  Gabriel faced a large monitor overlooking the common area. A man with a military brush cut filled the screen. He wore a nondescript black uniform.

  Gabriel did no
t answer.

  The collar emitted an electric shock that brought him to his knees. He didn’t make a sound.

  “This is your new home,” the man said. “Your permanent home. You will stay here until the day you die, and we will become well acquainted with each other.”

  Gabriel’s chest rose and fell.

  “For now, you are alone. We don’t expect that to be the case for long. Cooperation will be rewarded, and disobedience will be punished. Do I make myself clear?”

  Gabriel said nothing. Another burst of electricity gripped his body.

  “If you look around, you will see that there are no televisions. You will not be kept informed of current events, which is a shame because the world has become an interesting place thanks to you. If you wish to know my name, ask. If you wish to eat, ask. If you wish to know the status of your family members, ask.”

  Gabriel knew Raphael was dead. He prayed that Melissa, Gareth, Damien, and Angela were safe.

  “You will talk, I promise you. And you will not escape.”

  Drawing in a breath, Gabriel rose. He refused to break and intended to maintain his silence until they killed him.

  Rhonda loaded what clothes she had into the back of the Jeep, which she had paid for with cash. She didn’t have insurance, and she hoped the vehicle would last until she reached California. Maybe Mexico after that. Her friends stood at the curb of Roosevelt Avenue.

  “Don’t look so glum, gang,” she said.

  “I thought we were going to form our own pack,” Lincoln said.

  “Yeah,” T-Bone said.

  “The days of the big packs are over,” Rhonda said. “From now on, it’s all about family. You have families. I don’t.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” Diane said.

  “Yes, I do. They’ll be looking for me, if they aren’t already. I have to cut off all ties and start over. I don’t mind. Sometimes change is good.”

 

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