This time flying with Hawk is made easier by the low height and reduced speed. We’re barely above street level, watching the roads boil with people as we follow the path of devastation left by Aleksandar’s followers. An easy trail to identify, marked by trampled cars, claw-gouged pavements, and bent street lamps.
Also below, Rayne sets the pace at a running speed, following directions from us above.
Seeing her from this angle is so strange, and even though I know I should be watching the road, I find myself watching her. The easy back and forth sway of her arms, the cyclic motion of her feet. Her hair ruffles lightly on the breeze of her own momentum, and each time she moves into the darkness between street lamps, her eyes blaze with vampire silver.
We all spot the first retreating figures long before they see us.
Two men, sprinting away from two bisecting streets where a pair of smoking cars lie crumpled nose to nose. They move with the panicked jerkiness of blind terror and stop only when they see Rayne. The first points and yells something about vampire monsters while the second freezes dead in his tracks. Then they dart left and down another street, anything to get as far away from us as possible.
Two streets on and it’s like walking into a war zone.
Panicked civilians are everywhere while smashed up cars line the streets alongside broken storefronts and shattered glass. A fire burns bright through the window of a souvenir shop, and werewolves in both changed and hybrid forms roam through the madness.
Rayne ducks into a shop doorway and drops to a tight crouch. “What happened out here?”
I don’t know but I can hazard a guess.
A couple of the wolves in hybrid form are fighting, not the full-on mercilessness of a dominance battle, but dangerous nonetheless. Their fight carries them back and forth across the street, destroying vehicles and scattering those humans still unlucky enough to be within range.
“Hawk?”
He takes us down, a tight but slow circle rather than the swooping dive like before. It’s better for my stomach, but in truth, I can’t dwell on it overmuch.
My gun is in my hand before my feet touch the ground. Several more people are running my way, and I point the weapon upward.
“Hey. Hey, this way, come on.”
It takes time, but at last my voice carries through the din and people begin to swarm my way.
“Keep going, clear the area. Come on, now, get a move on. Let’s go, move, move.”
Apparently, all these frightened people need is a guide because as soon as I offer them a route, the flow of startled humans begins to change. Further on, nearest to the flames, Rayne follows my lead and starts directing people away from the area.
Hawk’s voice crackles in my ear. “I’m going to look ahead.”
“Fine, but stay off the ground unless you really have to land. I don’t know what the vibe is, but I don’t want you caught in it.”
“Sure.” The breeze of his passing overhead catches my hair and ruffles it. Then he’s gone too.
The wolves are still fighting, but traveling further and further up the street as they go. They pay no mind to the humans around them, focused wholly on tearing fur and skin off their opponent in strips.
Rayne wades her way toward me. The silver is gone from her eyes now, but her expression is grim, her muscles tense. “Aleksandar has caused a major riot. He’s dangerous.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Should we keep going?”
“We have to.” I start off again, still directing the odd straggler back and away from the fight. Rayne is at my back, keeping pace easily, her hands free of weapons, her eyes narrowed and focused.
I want to stop the fight, but without the rest of my team it would be suicide to try. I know Rayne could probably at least dent those two, but I’m more concerned now by the sounds of more screaming up ahead.
Traffic has ground to a halt, the road choked by abandoned cars.
Here the wolves are fighting again, and this time I see signs that there is another pack involved.
The Dire Wolves are abnormally large, even for werewolves. Once fully transformed, their wolf bodies are easily big enough for a large human to ride, almost like horses. Other packs are smaller, and even though they often have different subtler gifts, they’re easy to spot when compared to a Dire Wolf.
I see some now, facing off against a massive beast with patchy black fur. Three surround the one Dire Wolf who bays and claws at the air with thick, heavy paws. Beneath it, the car on which it stands slowly but steadily bows under the weight.
Rayne is first to locate the source of the screams. “There’s someone in there.”
It takes me a moment, but there, sure enough, a pair of petrified faces are visible through the cracked and twisted windscreen. They’ve ducked low to avoid the bowing roof, but the doors are crushed and clearly can’t be opened from the inside any more
I hear them calling, screaming, begging for help, and cut Rayne a sidelong glance.
She nods.
I heave a deep breath and aim straight for the car.
The three smaller wolves surrounding the first don’t notice us approaching. They’re too focused on their target and barely flinch when I fire a warning shot. One of them pauses long enough to scent the air. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but the scents on the breeze clearly upset him, because he bays again and launches a daring tackle at the figure on the roof.
The move drives the bigger creature to the ground, and then all four start again, a rhythm of biting, clawing, scratching, nipping, and growling.
I tug on the car doors. Sure enough, they’re jammed. Or locked. Or both.
Inside, the couple is still screaming, crying, begging, pleading. The driver of the pair begins to climb backward over the seats, perhaps to try poking through a window.
“Think you can get in, Rayne?”
She eyes the vehicle. “Sure.”
A set of claws scrabble against the back of the vehicle. More screaming from within.
“Do it. I’ll cover.”
I put my left shoulder against Rayne’s right and train my gun outward.
Still the wolves ignore us, but their fight repeatedly edges closer and closer to the car. One of the smaller wolves slips around the back of the fight and creeps in ducked low to the ground. It dives in for a sneak attack, but a swipe from the Dire Wolf sends it careening into the car.
The whole vehicle shunts back six feet forcing both Rayne and me to duck out.
The screams from inside become feral howls of terror.
“I need to pull the door off.”
The wolf at my feet stands, shaking its head. For the first time, it seems to see me and snarls hard and loud. Long streams of drool hang from bared teeth.
I level the gun. “Don’t.”
It steps forward.
I steady my aim. “Don’t do it.”
It leaps. I fire.
The shot goes wide, missing by several inches as I throw myself to the ground. I roll, over and over and sweep up to one knee, ready to aim again. But now I can’t fire.
Rayne is in my path, holding the wolf above her head with one hand around the throat, another braced around the hips. The usual brown of her eyes is drowned out by silver, and her own fangs gleam in the mucky street lights. She spins on her heel like a discus thrower and hurls the wolf back into the fray.
It yelps as it goes, smashing through the others like a bowling ball through unsuspecting pins. All four crash down into a heap, temporarily stunned and slow.
“Cover,” she yells, then returns her attention to the car. Rayne digs her fingers into the scratched and twisted metal of the passenger door. It grinds and scrapes but holds its shape as Rayne sets her stance then yanks the entire thing off the hinges.
My heart gives a slight flutter. Shock? Fear? Arousal? Who knows?
The pair inside scream again, now wedging themselves into the cramped foot well.
I run over and f
lash my badge through the mangled doorframe. “Hey. Hey, calm down. We’re with SPEAR, don’t panic. Stop screaming, damn it, we’re here to help.”
The woman is the first to catch herself. She looks first at her companion, then Rayne. I hear her swallow the boiling fear and I silently applaud the obvious effort she makes. “Thank you. Oh, God, what’s happening? What’s happening?”
“The wolves are—”
I cut across Rayne with a cleared throat. “You two need to get out of there. Let’s go. If you run that way you can get away from the worst of the fighting. My colleague will keep watch over you from the air.”
“But why are they fighting? I thought this was a peaceful city.”
The man glares at her. “Come off it, Doreen, it’s just like I said: any city filled with monsters is a riot waiting to happen. Just look at this place.” He grabs her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” For the first time, he looks at me. “Look, uh, Agent, I don’t know what’s happening here, but you better fix it.”
I hear the wolves begin to move, shaking off the stupor of their abrupt fall and looking for new targets.
I point. “Get going.”
The man clutches his companion close and finally begins to move.
“Hawk? Hawk, you got them?”
Silence, and then, “Yeah. I got them. They’re moving the right way, but it’s a real shit show up ahead. You need to get in there and join the other teams.”
“Guns out or herding?”
He chuckles through my earpiece. “Bit of both, boss. Bit of both.”
“Okay, come on, Rayne. Rayne?”
She’s still holding the door, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. The tiniest bead of blood gathers in the corner of her mouth, then vanishes as she licks it away. I don’t think she realizes she’s done it.
“Rayne?”
Her gaze flicks toward me, then back to the ground. “Nothing’s changed, has it? Not really?”
I know what she’s talking about, and though everything in me longs to reassure her, I’m not sure I can. “Let’s just keep moving.”
“Fine. You lead, I’ll follow.” She sighs, wedges the door back into the frame of the car, and follows me up the street.
* * *
Chadwick Road.
It’s like a bad horror film. The further we travel along the path Aleksandar took, the more obvious it has become that people, human and edane alike, are taking things…badly.
The Angbec police have responded quicker than I’ve ever seen. There are uniforms everywhere, most with their attention on getting civilians to safer locations. They don’t get involved with any edane threats, rather they retreat and stand by as other SPEAR units sweep in.
More and more arrive as Rayne and I try to catch up with our team. Tactical units in riot gear, most in protective clothing, all of them armed.
I even spot Noel at one point, directing his own team toward a building with snarls and howls coming from the inside. It looks like a restaurant from the fragments of shattered tables joining the fluff from shredded seats and cushions.
Usually this area is busy, lively, and cheerful. Now the air stinks of burning and rings with the echoes of battle further away. It’s empty, eerily still, and bare.
Clearly most of the carnage has moved on, leaving behind this awful, near-apocalyptic mess.
Police have formed a line, hopefully to stop any curious human trying to get through because I can’t think what else they’re planning to do. Several SPEAR vans have also fanned out along the street with their own teams spilling out to seek and disperse.
Hawk glides above us at roof level, occasionally calling out information to keep us in the loop. He isn’t the only gargoyle in flight now; several others and a few sprites are also in the air, offering their bird’s eye view to the ground teams.
“Can you see any sign of Jack?”
“The mayor?” Hawk swoops round to catch the air currents directly overhead. “No, why?”
“I have to know he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s not an idiot.”
“Well, actually—”
Hawk shushes me and cuts his wings back to climb higher. Ten feet, twenty feet, thirty, forty. Soon he’s high enough that I can barely see him in the gloom, just the smeared outline of his form against the grey clouds above.
“There are some really big trucks heading in from the south.”
“Ours?”
“Nope. Too big. And too many. Twenty at least. No idea who they are.”
“Guys? Solo? You all getting this?”
A brief pause and then Erkyan’s voice. “Yes. I see them. We are by river, on main road to motorway slip. They come fast.”
“Who are they?”
Duo this time. “They’re not from the city. I can smell that much.”
Rayne chips in. “Where’s Aleksandar?”
I hear the shrug in Duo’s voice. “We lost him.” He continues over my sounds of disbelief. “Other packs stepped in, some to stop him, others to join him. That’s what the disruption is. In the chaos he got away. You should see it, Danika. Even out here, way away from the city’s centre, everyone is fighting or defending territory. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Can we stop it?”
“Can you be in thirty places at once?”
I drag my hands through my hair. “Then what can we do? What about Aleksandar?”
Hawk drops to his hands and toes beside me. The hard planes of his face are angled into a deep frown. “There’s something else coming from the air. I’d say they’re birds, but they’re following the trucks.”
“Weird, but I can’t think about that right now. Has there been any—”
A voice cuts through on my earpiece. From the startled expressions on Rayne’s and Hawk’s faces, I know they hear the same thing.
“All SPEAR units, stand down, repeat stand down. Evoking emergency protocol code 6991, Project Revival. All SPEAR units return to headquarters for debrief. Repeat, emergency protocol Project Revival is now in effect. All units return to headquarters.”
From miles away, Solo snarls his disgust into our comms. “What’s this bullshit?”
I can hear others murmuring, muttering, questioning.
Rayne looks my way with wide, frightened eyes and pushes her way over to my side. “Is that the general?”
I find myself nodding. Though the voice is mechanical and clearly a computer, the only person with authority to give an order like that is the general. But why?
An agent I recognize vaguely as a Beta Grade Six, speaks into her own comms unit. “That’s it, guys. We need to go back.”
But why? How? Why are we all going back when there is so clearly a threat to be contained?
“Hey.” I jog toward the other agent. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“You heard, right?” She tucks her gun into her holster. “We go back for debrief.”
“But—”
She talks right over me, beckoning to a cluster of other agents gathered near the police line. “Let’s go. If we hurry, maybe we’ll learn what started this mess.” She pauses long enough to tell me, “You should hurry on too,” before moving on with the rest of her team.
Yet again my phone rings. The same number as before, but still unknown.
“Jack?”
A huge sigh of relief from the other end. “You’re okay. Thank goodness.”
“Of course. What about you?”
“I’m fine I…they got me out. Are you still in the city?”
“Yes, but—”
“You need to get away. Right now. There are wolves on your team, right?”
“Jack—”
Again he cuts across me. People are rude as hell today. “Get them inside. Below ground if you can and keep them there for at least two hours. It’s the only way they’ll avoid the drug.”
“What drug?”
His voice drops to a whisper. “Didn’t you hear anything I said before? Project
Revival is in force now. The Army is coming to…lend support.” The worry in his voice is obvious. “Get off the streets right now.”
I open my mouth to ask more, but before I can, something large and dark flies overhead with a dull, mechanical whirring sound. A second follows, then another and another, until the air vibrates with the buzzing of dozens of black machines.
Drones?
One of them clicks, turns, then extends a narrow black pipe that expels a stream of ashy white gas. An instant later, the others perform the same motion. Within seconds the air beneath the street lamps is heavy with the strange white vapour that sinks and spreads like mist.
Rayne’s hands are already on my shoulders, shoving me off the road toward the nearest building. “Move.”
“What is that?”
“No idea, but I don’t like it. The stuff smells weird. Don’t inhale.”
More and more, the little black drones are appearing now, all of them spinning to release the strange gas. Hawk smears himself almost flat against the ground and scuttles past us like a lizard. “Smells like an old elf mine. What is this?”
Shrieking explodes over my comms unit.
With a yelp, I wrestle the tiny receiver free, but the screams are loud enough that I can still hear them, tinny and weak.
“Duo? Duo?” Solo’s voice joins the cacophony, panicked and shrill. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
Wheezing gasps fill the line.
My gut clenches like a vice. “Duo? Erkyan? Guys, come on, what’s happening? Talk to me.”
“The drones…the gas…”
Rayne increases her shoving on my shoulders. “Come on.”
Too late.
In my shock my steps have slowed and already the misty white gas has collected above me and sunk around my head. It’s falling faster now, seeming to solidify like flakes of dry snow. It’s all over my hair, my arms, my hands, my face. I can feel it coating the insides of my nostrils with every breath, and fear shudders through me.
The wheezing around me turns to coughs, hacking, chest-shuddering splutters I can almost feel in my own lungs.
Still stumbling on, I brace for pain, for burning, itching, or hampered breathing, but nothing happens. Just a faint scent, rather like Hawk said, that reminds me of my mother’s old jewellery box. All of her oldest trinkets were in there, from silver rings, to wide bracelets and long silver necklaces, grey and murky with tarnish marks.
Moon Fever Page 14
