“The truck doesn’t look right,” I said.
“There isn’t room to flip a truck that size on this road,” Edward said. “It should be in the trees, maybe on its side, but there’s no way to flip it.”
“Yeah,” I said.
I undid my seatbelt. Edward’s was already undone. I moved the MP5 around on its sling so it was in my hands and ready. Edward had his FN P90 in his hands. But he dropped one hand off to sort of caress the M4 where it sat against his leg.
“Debating between guns?” I asked, as I scanned the trees on my side.
“The P90 from the car, but once we hit the woods I’ll switch to the M4.” I knew without turning around that he was scanning his side of the road.
“Mine’s still at the gun shop being modified,” I said. All I could see was trees, lots of trees.
“I’d have done it for you,” he said.
“You’re in New Mexico; it’s a little far to go for gun repair,” I said.
“I thought you said it was being modified, not repaired.”
“Yeah.”
“You getting the specs I suggested?” he asked; his voice had gone very quiet.
“Yeah,” I said, and my voice was doing the same thing. We were talking, but we were also listening. You always did that, even though with wereanimals our most likely bad guy we’d probably never hear them coming. You still strain for it, and try to listen; all the while your eyes are almost hurting because you’re looking so hard. I tried to let my gaze relax and just look for movement, just look for anything that didn’t look like trees. I needed a shape that was out of place.
“I don’t see anything,” Edward said, finally.
“Me either,” I said.
“Did they do this to keep us from going in with the other marshals, or is this an ambush just for us?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Three choices,” he said.
I kept scanning the trees. The shadows were thick in them. We were maybe an hour and a half from full dark. I said, “We get out and hike to join the hunt, or we stay put, or we back up and get out of here.”
“Yep,” he said, and I didn’t have to turn around to know he was scanning his section as hard as I was scanning mine.
“Can’t just stay put,” I said.
“No,” he said.
“Either they’re going to jump us the minute we get away from our truck, or they’ll wait until we start hiking through the woods toward the other marshals.”
“That’s what I’d do,” he said.
“Shit,” I said.
“There are moments when I hate the fact we carry badges,” he said.
“Because otherwise we could just back up and try to leave,” I said.
“Something like that,” he said.
I had a thought. “What if we back up like we are leaving?”
“You mean that if they think we’re running, it will force them to show themselves.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Good idea.” I felt him turn in the seat, but he said, “I’d rather you drive and I shoot, actually.”
“I would have had us in the ditch two or three times, Edward. I can shoot, but you’re a better driver. The question is, are we actually driving, or is it all about shooting?”
“Are you admitting I’m a better shot?”
“From a distance, with a rifle, you are.”
“Belt yourself in; this isn’t about distance, and we may need to drive.”
I did what he said, and was now trying to keep my attention on the entire area. Which wasn’t possible, but Edward had to drive, so I’d do my best. I actually put one knee in the seat, raising myself up and trying to steady myself as I scanned the road, the woods on either side.
“Behind us, Anita, make sure they don’t cut us off.”
I did what he said, but I said, “We’re not really leaving, right?”
“We have to make it look good,” he said.
I couldn’t argue with that, but I didn’t want to leave our fellow police on their own in the shadow-filled woods. I did my best to keep an eye on everything as he backed up, at a speed that I wouldn’t have even attempted on this road, especially going backward. I put a hand on the headrest to steady myself and the MP5, because it would be a bitch to fall and accidentally shoot Edward. I’d never tried to aim and keep watch on this much area, while the vehicle I was in was speeding backward down a narrow road. My pulse was in my throat, and a little voice screamed in my head, There’s too much. I can’t keep an eye on it all. I shoved the doubts away and held on, and just had to believe that if the time came I’d be able to shoot the bad guys.
I saw movement to the right, but to aim I had to come to my knees in the seat. The seatbelt was around my legs and officially useless. I prayed that Edward wouldn’t have to slam on the brakes, and wrapped one arm around the headrest to help steady me and the gun. Whatever I’d seen was gone. There was nothing but trees, and the road, and a fallen tree in the middle of the road. It took me a blink to realize what I’d seen, and then I yelled, “Tree in the road!”
Edward slammed on the brakes. I clung to the seat desperately, no longer worried about shooting, just about not going through the windshield. The car skidded to a stop and we had that second of breathless silence while the blood roared in our ears, and the body feels too full of blood, as if the adrenaline makes everything feel like more.
Edward said, “That wasn’t there five minutes ago.”
“I know,” I said. I was back to aiming the gun again, trying to find something to shoot. “We’re boxed in, now what?” I asked, cheek snugged up against the MP5.
“It’s an ambush,” Edward said. “The best cover we have is the car, so we stay put. We make them force us out into the open.”
I undid my seatbelt so it didn’t tangle my legs as I sat back down. “They’ve used swords up to this point; let’s hope they don’t go all modern on our asses.”
“Agreed.” He got his phone out as he continued to scan the area. He answered my look. “I’m calling Tilford, because if this is a trap for you then it’s a trap for all of us, and you’re the only one they want alive.”
I realized he was right; they wanted me alive, and that was that. “Shit, Edward.”
“Yeah.” He spoke into his phone, “Tilford, it’s a trap. They’ve blocked the road that leads out.”
I heard Tilford’s voice a little louder this time, but still couldn’t quite make out the words.
“Wrecked a truck and pulled a dead tree across the road.” Edward listened and made small noises, and then he turned to me. “They’ve found a vampire dressed in full gear complete with mask. Newman has already staked him and they’re about to decapitate him.”
I shook my head. “They wouldn’t have left their masters alone and unprotected, Edward. They may want me, but not enough to risk their masters’ death.”
“Tilford, check the teeth,” Edward said.
Almost a yell from Tilford, but Edward said, “If there’s modern dentistry, then it’s not the vamps we’re looking for.”
I thought about that. “Not necessarily,” I said. “Chipped teeth might still happen, I don’t know for sure, but no cavities. Check for cavities.”
Edward repeated that. We waited for Tilford to do it. We kept the guns ready, but the lack of movement and the growing shadows were beginning to get on my nerves. I realized that they had us boxed in; all they had to do was wait for nightfall.
“Shit,” I said.
“What?” Edward asked me.
“They’re waiting for dark.”
He nodded, and then spoke to Tilford. “Four modern cavities; then it may be a vampire but it’s not one of the ones we’re looking for. It’s a decoy, Tilford.”
Edward hung up, and then said, “Tilford believes us.”
“What about the rest of them?”
“Not sure.”
“Edward, we can’t just sit here until it gets dark—then we’l
l have not just the one or two wereanimals but both of their vampire masters. The odds are better now.”
“Are we heading to the other marshals?”
“More guns are better,” I said.
“They only want you alive, Anita. The rest of us are just hostages, or collateral damage.”
“If I go in the opposite direction of everyone else, they may not attack anyone but me.”
“You can’t fight them all by yourself, and you can’t walk out of here after full dark.”
I took a deep breath in and let it out slow. “I know.”
He studied my face for a moment. “Where you go, I go.”
“Yeah, but what about everyone else? Do we move toward them, or away? Do we hope the bad guys follow us, or risk that they’ll go to the other cops without us there to help them, and either slaughter them or take them as hostages to make me do what they want like they did with Karlton?”
“You’re overthinking this,” he said.
“Okay, then tell me what to think.”
I watched his eyes go distant, cold, and knew he’d shoved all the emotion away so he could make his decision based on nothing but facts. It was a nifty trick if you could pull it off. I’d never managed to be as dispassionate as Edward.
“I think they’ll follow you. So we lead them away.”
“Okay,” I said.
“We have to kill the wereanimals before the vampires rise,” he said.
“I know.”
“We have just over an hour before they rise.”
“I know,” I said.
We had a moment to look at each other and have a thousand things pass between us. There were no words, no need for them. Edward put his hand on the door handle; I did the same on my side. Edward counted down, “One, two, three.” We got out.
19
I WENT AROUND the SUV, walking sideways and sort of backward so I could watch my side of the woods. I was fighting to keep my eyes soft-focused, looking for movement only, shapes that were out of place. Edward’s hand found my back, and I knew without turning around that he was looking forward, probably with the FN P90 in one hand. The M4 was a two-handed gun. We eased into the woods like that with him forward, me watching our backs. The smell of pine was everywhere, the needles shifting under my jogging shoes. Movement across the road. I must have tensed, because Edward whispered, “What?”
“They’re coming.” They were black shapes in the trees. If they’d been willing to lose the long black cloaks they could have blended in better, but there was something about the way the cloth moved that wasn’t tree, or animal, but just out of place.
“How many?”
“Two.”
They were like those shapes you see from the corners of your eyes; if you looked directly at them, they wouldn’t be there, but looking obliquely they were always there, flitting through the trees as if the cloaks floated on their own. I got a flash of white from one of their masks, and that let me know that the next flash would be close enough for a target.
Edward whispered beside me, “See it.”
I breathed out, lower than a whisper, “Left.”
“Right,” and the word was less than a sound, as if he breathed it out. He moved a little away from me so his muzzle blast wouldn’t be too close to me, or mine to him.
I saw the white flash of mask just before they broke cover, and I fired. I knew I missed, because there was no hesitation in their speed. I aimed lower as my target got to the trees on their side of the road. Even with all the time in the world to make the shot, I still missed the main body mass. The blurring speed hesitated and he dived behind the SUV’s side, putting the engine block between us.
The other Harlequin was around the edge of the truck and coming for the trees. Edward shot again, but the figure never hesitated. “Missed,” he said.
I turned and got ahead of the figure. It was more luck than skill, but I took the shot. The figure went down and tumbled into the side of the ditch, so that all I could see was a dark pile of cloth almost lost in shadow.
“They’re too fast,” Edward said, as he went toward the fallen figure. I moved toward the SUV, tensed to fire at anything that peeked around the truck. Nothing moved. There wasn’t even a sense of movement. It hadn’t been a kill shot, I knew that. I stayed far enough away from the underside of the vehicle that someone under it couldn’t grab me. I kept the MP-5 snugged up against my shoulder, tensed and ready to shoot. I was inches away from rounding the last edge of the hood and having a clean visual when Edward fired behind me. It made me jump, and then he made a noise. I hurried the last few inches around the truck before I let myself look behind me. There was no one hiding behind the truck. I knew I’d hit him, but he wasn’t there.
I turned, muttering, “Shit,” under my breath. I couldn’t see over the top of the SUV. I rushed around the front of it, gun still at my shoulder. Edward was on the ground shooting up at the figure above him. I had time to register that he wasn’t shooting him in the chest, but the legs, and I knew why I had no body in the road. Vests. They were wearing bulletproof vests. Shit. But one thing I knew was that even if a bullet didn’t go through, it still hurt, so I aimed at the middle body mass, using the shots to force him back away from Edward. The shots staggered him, and then he was moving away from Edward, away from me into the trees, but he wasn’t moving in that blur of speed. He was fast, but not super-fast. He wasn’t much faster than human. Edward rolled onto his stomach and kept shooting. The Harlequin started using the trees for cover. He was hurt. Good.
I felt something behind me, and threw myself toward the ground before I’d finished turning around. I hit the ground harder than I wanted, but I was aiming up, and got one shot off before my eyes registered the masked figure in front of me. The shot went wild, and then he was simply gone, moving in that blur of speed that I’d seen at the hotel.
There were more shots from across the road and men yelling. The other police had joined the party. I turned onto my stomach and found the slight curve of the ditch blocking my view. I had to get to one knee before I could look into the trees and the shadows that were filling them up. There was nothing to shoot at; they were out of sight, but one was wounded. The question was, how hurt was he?
Edward was on his feet; I climbed up the other side of the ditch to stay by his side. He had his gun up and ready and was moving in that shuffling, bent-legged walk that most of the special forces and especially SWAT used. It was supposed to help you move well, but keep you as steady as possible for shooting. I’d never been trained, but I’d grown up in the woods, and hunting. I knew how to move in trees.
I heard the other police behind us, crashing through the trees like a herd of elephants. I knew they weren’t actually that loud, but they seemed thunderous behind us, so that the noise seemed to make it even harder to search the shadowed trees for the Harlequin, as if the noise masked everything. I fought the urge to turn and yell at them to be quiet.
“Cover me,” Edward said.
I moved until I was almost over him, looking out into the ever thickening shadows as he knelt down. “Blood,” he said.
I glanced at him, still trying to keep a peripheral sense of the trees and the growing darkness under the trees. There was more light on the road behind us, but here in the thick trees night would come early.
“You wounded them?” This from Tilford, as he came up on the other side of Edward. He had his own M4 pointed out into the trees.
I said, “Yes.”
Edward said, “We follow the blood trail.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” Tilford said.
Edward stood up. “It will.”
Newman was with us now. “I’ve never seen anything move that fast.”
“We need them dead before full dark,” I said, and was already moving through the trees.
“Why?” Newman asked.
“Because the vampires will rise,” Edward said.
“How do you know there will be vampires?” Newman asked.
Tilford answered, “Wereanimals don’t wear masks and cloaks. They don’t sneak around. They just attack. The only thing that makes them behave like this is a vampire master. Night means we get to meet their masters, and I’d rather the shifters be dead before we have the vampires to deal with.”
Edward and I exchanged a quick look. We both thought better of Tilford in that moment. I said, “What he said.”
We followed the blood trail in the ever-growing dark. We followed the fresh blood even though every molecule in my body was screaming for me to run. Run before dark. Run before the vampires came. Run. But I didn’t run, and neither did the other marshals. We followed the trail, because that was our job. We followed the trail because if they got away and killed more people, none of us wanted to look down at the body and explain why we’d let shadows and maybe a threat of vampires scare us off. We were U.S. Marshals. We hunted and killed the monsters. We did not run from them.
20
IT GOT DARK enough that Edward and Tilford turned on the flashlights that were attached to the barrels of their M4s. It was a mixed blessing. It allowed us to follow the blood trail but ruined our night vision. I finally kept my gaze away from the lights. One of us needed to be able to see what the deepening shadows might hold. Following the blood trail was important, but if the Harlequin that were bleeding found us first, there’d be more blood, and some of it would likely be ours. Was that pessimistic, or realistic? I had trouble telling sometimes.
Newman followed me ahead into the creeping gloom. “Do you see something?”
“Not yet.”
“Saving your night vision from the lights?”
That made me glance at him. “Yes, how’d you know?”
“I was raised in the country. I’m okay in the dark most nights.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“Country girl?”
“Something like that.”
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