CHAPTER 21 - Mike Journal Entry Fourteen

  “Stonehenge? I’d always wanted to see that,” I told her.

  “Perhaps you will someday,” she said sadly.

  “You really believe that?” I asked.

  The dip of her head let me know the truth behind her words.

  “Well, like you said, you’re not all-knowing, otherwise you’d have that tiara.” I tried to alleviate the mood.

  She smiled. “This is true. I’m not sure we’ll make it through this next moon.”

  “Think I have enough time to get to Talboton and back?” I asked. “For the beer.”

  “We make it through the next few days; I’ll show you how to brew the nasty stuff.”

  “Nasty? And wait...you’ve been holding out on me? At least I have an incentive.”

  “Holding on to your head not enough?” she asked wryly.

  “Unfortunately, no.” I told her, being honest. “I wish I had left Oggie in Talboton…or even with Lana. I don’t know how I’m going to keep him out of the mix.”

  “I’m sure the price Lana would have charged to watch him might be too steep,” she laughed.

  “You’re probably right. I wonder how my girlfriend is faring?”

  “Girlfriend?” Bailey asked approaching.

  “Yeah…you and me,” I told her.

  “I like my men...bigger.” She eyed me up and down.

  “Ouch, my ego is going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “The preparations are made,” she said, changing the subject. She was much too serious, although BT had been at the beginning as well. If we were to luck out and have more time together, then I’d eventually wear her down. “Now we wait.”

  I knew that waiting was always the worst, giving men and women the time to let their imaginations run wild was the worst possible idea. They’d break before it started.

  “Come morning.” I told her, “I want you to double the amount of drills with the populace. You can blame it on me. They’ll hate me for the next few days but thank me for it after.”

  “If there is an after,” she echoed my thoughts.

  True to my word – and then some – Bailey had the locals out and sweating before the birds of morning could even clear their throats. I got more than one glare as I walked past that day. The smell of smelting silver dominated the village. Townsfolk would periodically line up to give a silver lining to their weapons. Maybe we were all going to die but we were going to do it in style. All manner of weapon received a coating, from the lowly rake to the mighty sword. I even made sure that the bowmen dipped their arrow tips. Besides putting a shine to my sword and axe there was another plus I gained from the whole damn thing and that was from Tommy. I hadn’t known his skill with a sword until he approached me.

  “Hey, Mr. T, can we talk?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I told him as I ‘swooshed’ my sword through the air. I think I even made a swooshing sound-effect…well, just for effect, I suppose.

  “It’s about your sword.”

  I stopped moving around. “Pretty sweet, huh? You want me to teach you some moves, I’m damn near a ninja.”

  “I’ve seen ninjas, Mr. T.” He paused.

  I stopped to look at him. I got it. “I’m no ninja is what you’re saying?”

  He nodded solemnly. “I can teach you some things, though.”

  I swallowed my bruised pride and we worked all that day and deep into the night. Far past lunch, then dinner, past the call of the crows as they rested for the night. Even the crickets had begun to tire by the time we called a break. I’m sure the clang of our metal kept more than one citizen awake, but if I could keep learning, chances were, I’d keep those same people alive or at least have a better chance of it.

  There was a chance I was slightly faster than the boy, though he could have been sandbagging on me; but as for strength, I think he could hammer me into the ground. By the end, we were at full speed. He caught me a couple of times with the flat of his sword, and where he did, my skin sprang up in ugly welts and blotted blood. Although I took small victories in putting a couple of slices in the tunic he was wearing. He would show surprise when I did so, and then try to smash my weapon in two with his parries. I don’t think I’d ever seen the boy truly angry before; funny how I can bring that out in folks.

  I was breathing heavy, hunched over and leaning on my sword, as sweat sloshed off of me in fat droplets.

  “Not quite a ninja…but impressive nonetheless,” Azile said.

  “Thanks to Tommy…and has everyone seen friggin’ ninjas except for me?” I asked. It didn’t come out quite that smoothly. I was too busy trying to breathe in between words. I’m not going to lie, I was happy Tommy seemed to be in the same state as myself, although he was actually laying on the ground in your standard ‘snow angel’ pose. He was looking up at the heavens, his chest heaving.

  “Gimme...sword,” he finally managed.

  I didn’t move. Not because I didn’t want to, but rather, I was unsure if my legs would betray me before I got there. My hard-fought stalemate would look bad if I fell over now.

  “Sharpen,” he said as he rolled over and got to his knees.

  The ground looked pretty pleasing, but unless I wanted to sleep under the stars, I knew I couldn’t go down to embrace it.

  “Azile, we should talk,” I told her.

  “About?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Just get over here.” Thankfully she did as I asked. “Okay, I’m going to shuffle over to Tommy. When I give my sword to him, I will have basically lost the only thing keeping me up.”

  “Oh? I am to become your cane then?”

  “Shh, don’t let him hear you,” I begged.

  “Men and their little boy pride,” Azile said. She gave me a hard time, but was smiling as she did so.

  Tommy had finally pushed the upper half of his body from the ground and was now on his knees. He grabbed my sword, thankful that he now had two props.

  “Sharpen them my ass,” I told him as I leaned heavily against Azile. “I see what you’re doing.”

  “As I see you,” he replied. “We will resume on the morrow.”

  On the morrow, I thought. I like the sound of it, it reminded me of knights. Knights…ninjas…either were pretty cool in my book.

  “On the morrow it is. Lead on,” I told Azile. I was dragging my feet like I was drunk and had forgotten the necessary motor skill commands to make them work properly. With some difficulty, we found the way to my living quarters. It had housed three other men, but they very much disliked the idea of sleeping with a half-vamp. How 18th century of them. Vampire-ists.

  Azile laid me down in my bed – which was basically a raised platform with a layer of feather covered with a heavy quilt.

  “Would you like me to stay?” Azile asked.

  I had not a clue what she was talking about, but she must have taken my silence for acquiescence. She grabbed the front of her robe and swept it over her shoulders.

  “Oh, I get it now,” I said softly. Oggie grunted when I gently pushed him off the side. A body I thought incapable of anything beyond sustaining life at the moment began to respond as I looked upon her. I was thankful for the enhanced vision.

  I had not lain with anyone since Tracy, and to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do as she got into the bed with me.

  “Be gentle,” I told her, as she first placed her finger over my lips and then replaced that with her lips.

  When I awoke the next morning (okay afternoon) Azile had already awoken and left – if she had ever even slept. I wasn’t entirely convinced that the whole thing hadn’t been some elaborate dream…or even a spell. No matter which of the three options it ended up being, it was still something special. Even if nothing much past a PG-13 rating happened. Okay, maybe an R rating was necessitated, I think a breast was involved but it was dark. Then, in the blink of an eye or the beat of a heart, the warmth of the remembrance became wracked with a guilt so deep I didn?
??t think I could speak. My beloved Tracy, what would she think? Would she hold this transgression against me if I could ever find my way back to her? It would all be for naught if I somehow won my soul back and she turned her back on me when I approached. I wouldn’t be able to take that. It was with that morose feeling I finally got out of bed.

  My body ached both physically and spiritually. Extra healing powers or not, I had pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion. I felt slightly better when I saw Tommy; he didn’t seem to be faring much better than me as he was shuffling past Bailey doing some basic fighting with the locals. When he did catch me staring, he made sure to put a little extra pep in his step. I found that humorous, I didn’t even have the energy to pretend I had the energy.

  Bailey looked up at the sun, over at me, then shook her head. I gave her the finger, and I’m being honest when I say that was an exertion. Azile was nowhere to be seen. I think that was for the best. I had a lot of feelings to wade through, and that had never been my strong suit. Feelings weren’t for the weak…they were for the strong that could examine them. It is much, much easier to be a creature of action not reflection. I cared for Azile. The question was how much.

  I was leaning against a wall actually looking for the next place to park my ass when Tommy approached. I could only hope to God he didn’t want to go onto round two. I think I’d just let him stick me through the gut and be done with it.

  “We need to feed,” he said with no precursor.

  I was about to tell him I could go for a bacon cheeseburger when the realization of what he was saying settled in. “Fuck no,” was my initial response, even though I knew we had to. “Should we walk down the center of the town shouting, ‘Bring out your near dead! Bring out your near dead!’? I’m sure someone will toss out a grandfather or two.”

  “We cannot fight in this state, and even if we weren’t this tired, we would need to be at peak performance for what comes next.”

  “That’s why you did it,” I accused.

  He feigned ignorance.

  “You wore the living shit out of me for fifteen hours so that I would be just like this.”

  “We need to feed, Mike. If we are to have any chance tomorrow night, we need to be as strong as possible.”

  “Is Azile in on this with you?” I asked angrily, spinning on him.

  This time it was clear to see he had no clue what I was talking about.

  “It is who we are Michael…like it or not.”

  “Not, would be my response.” The thing of it was…I knew the validity of his words. Odds were already fairly slim of us surviving, and me feeling like I couldn’t punch my way out of a rice-paper house right now only magnified that feeling.

  “So now what?” I asked, letting my head sag both because it was hard to hold it up and also because I was coming around to what he had to say.

  “We hunt tonight. We cannot feed among these people. They already fear us.”

  “With good reason.”

  Tommy shrugged and walked away. Okay, more like limp-shuffled away. I had decided where I was leaning was as good a place to sit as any. I sat with my ass on the dirt and my back against an ancient rock wall. Then I laughed, hard enough that those nearest me stopped what they were doing to look. I was thinking the only way we were going to be able to feed was if we stumbled across a Walmart and some Spandex-wearing old woman was sitting in her little motorized cart and it had finally run out of juice; other than that, I was unsure as to how we were going to catch anything. Anything that moved at least, and it was the insanity of what I had to do that had hysterical tears running out of my eyes.

  I didn’t move much that day as I let the sounds of children playing and adults working at playing war wash over me. Oggie sniffed around me a few times, but for the most part, he was enjoying the kids. The sun felt great, I wished I had been a plant and able to gain all the sustenance I could out of its rays. The rest did me some good, and I was actually able to stand without assistance as I felt the shadow of Tommy blot out the setting sun.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “I never even liked to hunt when I owned rifles,” I told him.

  “You did, though. After the zombies.”

  “I had to, we had to eat.”

  He raised his eyebrows, in a ‘See what I’m talking about’ gesture. “We have to eat now.”

  “Clever, I’ve yet to stumble upon a deer that begged me not to, though.”

  “It would if it could.”

  “That’s really not helping.”

  “I’m just trying to show you the similarity.”

  “You should be going the other way. Make the human more animal-like, not the animal more human-like.”

  “My bad.”

  “Not something you expect to hear from a five hundred-year-old vampire.”

  “I’m pretty hip.”

  “What if we come across small kids?” I asked as we headed into the woods.

  “The likelihood we’ll run into kids is remote.”

  “Like Hansel and Gretel maybe. I don’t want to be a monster immortalized in a children’s fairy tale for all ages.”

  “I think we’ll be alright. Any kids we stumble across out here will be more than a match for us.”

  “You’re kidding right?” I asked.

  “Mostly.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we pushed through the dense brush.

  “There are nomadic people all along the old US-Canadian border.”

  “Just trying to survive,” I said with chagrin.

  “Much like we are.”

  “Yeah, but we’re the ones doling out the death.”

  “Michael, these people out here would do the same to us. They are a self-sufficient lot, that’s for sure, but they will prey on anything and anybody that gets within their grasp.”

  “That supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It is what it is. Men as well as vampires are predators, at least they are not so helpless as the deer you fell with your rifle.”

  “You keep bringing that up. Are you gonna make me feel bad about that, too?”

  “No, I’m just trying to make a point,” he said with an edge of anger. “I’m about to do something I’m not sure if you will appreciate or not.”

  He never even gave me an opportunity to respond as he raised his right hand up to the side of my head, he placed the flat of his palm against my temple. And like a switch, literally, he shut off my humanity. My id, my ego, my super ego, rational thoughts just gone, vanished. I became the animal I was. No feelings of guilt, pain, remorse, I was a basic being. Hungry, and on a hunt. My fangs shot down, my blood quickened with the thought of food. I was aware of Tommy, but not as a friend, he was in my pack, and he was there to make our chances of success more likely. Although, at the time, it was merely pictures in my head, eat or not eat. With him...eat, without him...not eat.

  My senses dominated, I could smell individual leaves – don’t ask, I can’t explain that one. My eyes were primed; looking simultaneously for prey and for any threats. My ears twitched with the slightest movements. If ants had been my target, they would have been screwed as I could even hear them scrabble across the hard earth. Time meant nothing as we passed quietly through the woods. Ever-looking, ever-listening.

  The moon was on the far side of being done for the night. Embers burned dully in the campfire as we approached. I did not see male, female, old, young – I saw food. The being guarding the fire scarcely had time to raise his weapon as my hunting partner descended upon him. I lusted to feed with him, but the hunt was far from over as a cry of alarm issued from another being. I ripped its throat out, not thrilling in the triumph, I was merely content that I was feeding.

  An arrow tore at the shoulder of my jacket. I spun. My eyes narrowed as I took in the being holding the weapon. I dropped the food I had been holding, the being with the weapon turned and fled and I was upon it before it could leave the small clearing it had bedded down in f
or the night.

  We both drank our fill and then, when we were full, we gorged. It was the way of the animal; feast or famine, and I was saving up for the leaner times. The bodies were husks when we finished. I tossed mine to the side like I would an old dinner plate. It meant nothing more to me than that. The sun was making its presence known as I followed Tommy away from the feeding grounds. He led us to a small stream. We stepped in and I drank greedily, the ice-cold water a nice respite from the hot blood as it was washed down the metallic taste of the iron-rich food.

  I was aware – but not wary – as my hunting partner approached me. I watched as his hand went to the side of my head. I fell to my knees as everything I was flooded back into me.

  “Don’t think too much about it,” Tommy said.

  I could barely hear him over the rush of thoughts in my head. It was like a great wall had been erected between the man and the animal, and when it was torn down, it was difficult assimilating the two distinct halves into one cohesive unit.

  It’s impossible to put to words how I felt at that point. When I had been operating as a pure predator I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced life in a more unpolluted form. I truly believe that was the way life was meant to be lived. Not racked with guilt, self-doubt, psychoses, neuroses, and any other fucking oses. It really did come down to eat or starve, live or die. That was life. Water flowed around my outstretched arms as they held me firmly rooted in place to the small river-bed. I plunged my head into the near ice water, but even that couldn’t break the fog that clouded me.

  “What happened?” I finally asked.

  “You know what happened,” Tommy said, being less than forthcoming. “You wouldn’t have done it. And the stakes are too high. I did what I had to do.”

  “I’ve said those words before.” I stared at my flowing, distorted reflection in the water. “Rarely is it good.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike.”

  On one level…I was pissed. Sure, who wants to be manipulated that damn easily? On the other…HOLY FUCKING SHIT what an experience! I would, on some level, grieve for those that we had killed the previous evening – that was the man-side, the animal-side was…what? Not thrilled, not any real human emotion really. Fulfilled? We had survived. And really not even that. Life just was, and death was just as much a part of that. There was no baggage tied to it.

  My body thrummed as we headed back into Wheatonville. I could feel every ripple of muscle, every hair as it was stirred by my movement. I was definitely switched on high. It was the morning of the war moon. Most of the town’s inhabitants looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here. Some had talked with ardor about sending their kids to another town for sanctuary. There really wasn’t a point. It was a good chance Xavier was going to strike here, but it wasn’t like he had given us his playbook. There were at least a half-dozen places he could strike. Sending the children off was just as likely to endanger them as keeping them here.

  What I’ll remember the most about that day is there was no laughing; no kids running around screaming and playing. No jokes made or played. I was in a strange place, and everyone around me was in dreadful expectation. I was in an exuberant anticipation. If this thing didn’t happen, there might be hell to pay. Tommy and I had sparred some in the late afternoon to try and burn off some jitters, but I was having a difficult time ‘play’ fighting, and he thought it best if we stopped before I got hurt.

  Bailey was setting up her gunmen at the choke point to the city, creating an effective crossfire. Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough bullets to keep up a sustained rate of fire. They were surrounded by at least ten men on either side, some had swords, most had deadly-looking farm implements. Who knew tending the earth produced so many dangerous looking items; it was no wonder farmers seemed always able to survive against all odds. Lords knew they’d be tested this evening.

  I didn’t see Azile until the sun was nearly down. “And so it begins,” she said to me.

  She was wearing a long flowing red dress, one I had yet to see. She looked magnificent and fierce. Her head was hooded and her eyes half closed as if she was summoning more power from whichever well she dipped into. Bailey was on my right and Tommy immediately behind me, the sounds of him sharpening his sword about the only thing making noise. We were in between the day birds retreating for the night and the myriad of night creatures producing their symphony.

  It was in those final few moments I knew that Xavier had set his sights on us. War produces its own climate. A low pressure system to be sure.

  “How much time do we have until the moon rises?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Fifty-two minutes,” Azile replied.

  “Tommy?” I asked.

  “Mike?” He asked back.

  “This is less than savory, and those people are innocents, at least for the next fifty-one minutes and change.”

  “What are you saying?” Bailey asked.

  “I’m saying we bring the fight to them for a little while. We could inflict some serious damage to these people before they change into werewolves,” I said it and I almost couldn’t believe I had. It was true, they were innocents dragged kicking and screaming into a war they wanted nothing to do with. As soon as they changed, though, all bets were off. They would kill us all without blinking, and maybe those that survived until the morning would feel sorrow, but by then it would be entirely too late. Add in that they would be once again used in some other place to destroy yet another populace.

  Tommy stood, he knew the implications.

  “You just want to go butchering those people?” Bailey asked.

  “No, Bailey, I don’t…I really fucking don’t.” I could have gone into a further explanation, but she knew as well as I did what was going on.

  “What about the Lycan?” Azile asked. “Surely they’re not going to let you waltz on in and kill their charges.”

  “What they don’t know can kill them,” I said. I tried my best to hide the savage smile that was tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  “I’m in,” Tommy said.

  “I cannot leave,” Azile said. “I have spells running and I cannot break the circle.”

  “Damn you, Talbot,” Bailey said, checking her pockets for her magazine. She quickly fixed her rifle with a bayonet. “I’m in.”

  “You are more and more like BT,” I told her. “Although I never really wanted to kiss him. Wait…that’s a lie…there was this one time.”

  “You would have had a much easier time kissing him,” she said hotly.

  “Probably.” I stepped back, hoping far enough away from her reach with the pointy end of her weapon before I finished speaking. “But you’re staying here.”

  “I go where I will.”

  “You need to stay with your men, Bailey. Tommy and I can move faster and quieter,” I told her; anger was threatening to break out of her like a disturbed rattler den.

  Azile reached up and placed her hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “He’s right.”

  I didn’t wait for a response or for them to work it out. More than likely, Bailey would shoot me in the foot and then ask ‘Who’s quicker now?’ Add to that we were rapidly running out of time. I’d wished I’d thought of the damn fool idea earlier. But then again… no I didn’t.

  “You want...?” Tommy began to ask, reaching up to my temple.

  “No, I at least owe it to them to be cognizant of their passing.”

  We moved quickly off to the left where the tree line was less than twenty yards away. I didn’t get the sense we had been seen; then again, I probably wouldn’t know until a razor-tipped claw took a swing at me. We hadn’t gone more than a couple of hundred yards into the woods when I picked up the scent. I looked over to Tommy. He nodded morosely. He knew, too, they were just up ahead.

  We approached slowly, making sure that we were downwind. We might have heightened senses, but the advantage of smelling stuff clearly went to the Lycan. People littered the ground, they seemed to all b
e tied together, with hands bound behind their backs, and a heavy rope tied on a leg from one to the other like a chain gang. The rope would hold the humans, but I had no doubt it would shred like twine when they turned. My stomach roiled; this would be worse than shooting at fish in a barrel. They were defenseless and couldn’t even run away. Gorge was ever threatening. I was busy concentrating on keeping it down when Tommy pressed me flat to the ground.

  A group of Lycan was on the far side of us talking amongst themselves – their captives a human shield between us. I watched as one stood and looked around. He seemed to sense something, but I’ve got to imagine with that many people around, it was making it extremely difficult for him to differentiate other scents. The five of them broke up, four of them moving away. Most likely to where their people were staged.

  “Any chance if we kill him, these people will be spared?” I asked.

  “There’s no way to know if he turned them all or if they’ve already seen their first moon.”

  “Damn rules,” I mumbled. “He’s coming,” I intoned softly.

  He was wary; he knew something was going on out there. He stalked around the side of his people who tried to push out of his way as quickly as possible. Those that did not he kicked at savagely, snapping more than a few ribs.

  “You mangy humans aren’t worthy of Lycan blood!” he roared when his foot got tangled up in one of the ropes. He stomped down mercilessly, pushing the man into the dirt. By the time he was through, what was left of the man was nearly level with the surrounding ground. Viscera, gore, brains, blood, bile, and bone coated all those who were unfortunate enough to be next to the unlucky soul.

  He was coming around towards us, his attention still on the people. I pushed up off the ground, a boy maybe twelve years old saw me as I did so; he gasped as his eyes got wide. The noise attracted the Lycan.

  “No noise!” the handler said loudly.

  I sprang, maybe I had a twig underfoot, maybe it was the whip of a branch that had caught as I went by – something got his attention. I was in midflight when he turned, his eyes widened much like the boy’s had. My sword caught him mid-throat, he was strangling on his blood. Well…that and the steel that was cutting through his air pipe. And still the beast was outstretching his arms trying to get at me. When he realized I was out of reach, he started to drive the sword further into himself pulling me in with it.

  Tommy was right behind me widening the gap I had started. The Lycan sagged to his knees with two swords in its throat. His eyes began to close and I placed the heel of my boot against its face, pushing him away. He fell heavily onto his side.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. Looking at the faces around me, some were completely downtrodden others were hopefully.

  “Are you going to get us out of here, mister?” the boy who had almost given me away asked.

  “He can’t,” a toothless old man next to him said.

  “Just cut the ropes,” another said. “We’ll leave!”

  “I’ve lost my taste for this,” I told Tommy. “The Lycan was worth it, not the rest.”

  “Taste or not, Mike, any little bit we can do here makes it worthwhile. Each one of these people has the potential to kill five before the night is through.”

  Tommy raised his sword, the toothless man stuck his neck out, as the rest shirked away, scrambling to leave this latest horror.

  “I welcome it,” the man said. “The changing is among the most painful things I have ever endured and I am a man long past my prime or usefulness.”

  “I will make it swift, old man,” Tommy said.

  I turned as the blade whistled through the air. I might not have seen it, but it was impossible to not hear his head roll away. The lost souls here were terrified, but did nothing. They seemed to realize their fate, or their spirit had been beaten out of them with the time they had spent among the Lycan. In all honesty, we were doing them a favor; unfortunately the truth of the matter sucked to high heaven.

  “Wait,” I told Tommy before he could strike again.

  “The moon is almost upon us,” he said.

  I was vaguely aware his chest was heaving, not from the exertion, but of the blood spilled. It was like a man dying of thirst in an ocean, water everywhere and not a drop could we touch. I wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if we drank from this well, but I could smell the taint of it from where I stood.

  “We wait. Some of these people were surely this Lycan’s victims. If even one of them can run away from this, then it will have been worth it. We strike as they begin their change.”

  “That puts us in exponentially more danger,” he told me needlessly. Might as well have told me that eating a Half-Pounder with cheese and bacon everyday would make me fat, I got it.

  In a strange turn of events, we had become these captives’ keepers, and ultimately we were going to be a harsher warden. Night was descending quicker than I cared for in the dark of the woods. I couldn’t see the moon as it was hidden from our view, but its hypnotic pull began to work on those around us. Adults and children alike began to sprout whiskers, ears began to elongate, clothes tore, screams ripped through the woods as the people were put through torturous transformations. Tommy and my swords sang as we chopped through the sea of what was once humanity. The bodies were twisted into painful contortions as the virus worked its way through their systems.

  “Going to be in trouble soon, Mike,” Tommy said, wet with sweat.

  I had just pulled my sword out of the midsection of woman – she howled more than screamed. Her snout snapped at me. I was moving faster, slicing and slashing, body parts fell like a diseased rain. I noticed a few people who were huddling close to the ground seemingly unaffected by the moon. I was trying to fight my way to them, they were surrounded by werewolves who were in various states of transition. It was also becoming increasingly difficult to kill them as they moved through their metamorphosis. I knew I wasn’t going to be quick enough. Heavy rope was beginning to tear, cries of anguish rapidly changing to growls of aggression, and still I moved quickly, my sword blurring into and through those around me. Tommy was lost in a sea of fur and gristle.

  I wasn’t going to make it.

  “We’ve got to go!” Tommy shouted. One of the first times I’d truly heard him sound alarmed.

  “I know.”

  I struggled to get out. It was kids – it’s always kids. They were huddled together looking to each other to protect against what was coming.

  “Ahhhh!” I yelled as I felt a claw rake against my back.

  I turned and swung, the force bringing my blade nearly halfway into the beast behind. I pulled the sword back, intestines spilling to the ground. I caught an elbow to the head, nearly rocking me to the ground. Now it wasn’t so much about would I be able to get to the kids to save them, but would I be able to fight my way out to safety.

  “I’m sorry,” I said hollowly as I turned.

  Tommy was moving closer.

  “Mr. T!”

  “Yup!” I answered. Not really sure what else I could say. I did my best not to look when I heard the high-pitched screams of the lost. “Damn you, Xavier.”

  Tommy grabbed my shoulder and was almost rewarded with the business end of my weapon. He was dragging me behind him, and I was still cutting and trying to make sure we could get out of there.

  “Run!” Tommy yelled as we broke free. I needed no further prompting.

  “Coming in hot!” I yelled to those waiting in the town. I was running like the hounds of hell were chasing us, which was pretty much a truism.

  “Fools!” Bailey yelled as her rifle began to shout its protests.

  I could hear thuds of animals falling behind me. If I stumbled, they would have be on me. I thought darkly of the old zombie adage, ‘I didn’t need to be the fastest to get away, just faster than the other guy’. Unfortunately right now Tommy had two steps on me. It was hard reconciling how a kid of his size could be so damn fast. We were through the first balustrad
es; Bailey’s men had taken to arms giving us more of a cushion.

  “Have fun?” Azile asked as I got to her.

  “A lot of words,” I said breathlessly, “that I could use…fun ain’t one of them.”

  Azile’s face was flushed, I watched her as a trembling went through her body. She raised her arms over her head. Light flooded her hands; a fire that produced no heat enveloped them. With a heavy exhalation she thrust the cold flame forward. The yelps of the werewolves could be heard as the flame hit the ground and spread, sending up a yellow-red wall of wildfire nearly ten feet tall. Unlike Azile, those that were caught in it began to burn. The animals ran wildly looking for a way to extinguish the conflagration.

  “That’s handy,” I said, catching my breath. I could feel the intense heat even from this distance.

  “It won’t last,” she said with great pains.

  “Game on.” I tried my best to get put a brave face on.

  The ones that had been chasing us were merely one of the many cells of werewolves; we had decimated that group, but there were plenty more to take up the fight. Futility seemed like a pretty good word. The four gunslingers had to pull back and were repositioning from the heat. A lot of the townsfolk had that look in their eye that had me doubting if they would stand their ground. However, there weren’t too many choices – stand and die, run and die. One just made you more tired when you went to meet your maker.

  “They’re coming!” someone off to our right shrieked.

  My son Justin would have been so proud. We had affectionately called him Captain Obvious for always ringing out what was right in front of you. How I wished I could good-naturedly call it to his face. The witch-fire began to flag, much like a propane tank on its last legs and always just as you put the steak on the grill. The many-legged, furry blur loping towards us was in a frenzy, all snarling mouths, and long teeth flashing wickedly. Claws upraised, they raced across the small clearing. So intent were they on their prey that they paid no heed to the logs planted into the ground. The first wave slammed into them, with more than a few impaling themselves all the way through.

  Their bays of frustration broke the still of the night. The moon was hanging swollen and pregnant, shining brilliantly upon the horizon as the war for Wheatonville had begun. Werewolves began to hurdle over their fallen brethren and into our second surprise. I had instructed Bailey to dig a trench about ten feet wide around the entire fencing structure we had erected. It wasn’t deep – just enough to drive wooden spikes into, pointy part up. Werewolves leaped or scrambled up and over our first line of defense only to find their feet impaled.

  Three or four townsfolk would run in and deliver deadly blows before the monsters could extradite themselves. Cries on both sides rang out as werewolves fought savagely even stuck to the ground as they were. One swipe from those thickly muscled arms was enough to decapitate a full-grown man. Bailey’s men held onto their bullets as long as they could before sending the precious projectiles downrange, it would be mere moments before they joined us in the sword brigade. It was starting to look like the world’s largest and deadliest steeplechase as werewolves propelled themselves over first the logs and then their dead and dying kind stuck on the impalers. The first ones over the stone wall and into the town seemed almost lost at first as they were trying to acquire targets.

  None were close just yet, but that was only a matter of time. Azile’s arms shot out to my own. I turned to look and noticed that she seemed exhausted to the point where she had done so to keep from falling over.

  “You alright?” I asked, only sparing a glance, anything more than that was not wise at the moment.

  “Fine, fine,” she told me.

  I begged to differ. “Want me to get you to somewhere safe?”

  “If you know of some place, let me know.” She smiled wanly.

  “The fire, she needs to recover,” Tommy said, filling in the blanks.

  And then, we were in the thick of it. I don’t know if we looked tastier than the rest, or if the werewolves had particular instructions. Maybe we looked like the biggest threat and they wanted to be rid of us. Five of them were heading our way. Tommy and I silently separated slightly lest we inadvertently catch steel from each other.

  “What I wouldn’t do for my AR,” I said as I dug in, hunched down to make a smaller target, keeping the edge of my blade outward. This wasn’t the all-out assault we were used to seeing; they were approaching cautiously, almost tentatively. They knew something, this seemed like containment, keeping us bottled up while the rest laid waste. “Fuck that!” I yelled as I ran at them. Typical Talbot, act first think later. One against five was going to get me killed no matter my prowess. Two against five was about even as Tommy caught up.

  “I’d almost forgotten how you go about your business,” he said wryly.

  “Damn fool!” Bailey shouted coming alongside.

  “She knows,” I told him, and then I slashed out, severing a hand right above the wrist.

  I spun and was able to put my sword up in time as a heavy arm sent me sprawling. The beast pounced thinking I was down. I drove the sword through its chest, and once again found myself on the ground, this time pinned under roughly two hundred and fifty pounds of something that smelled strangely like wet dog. The thing flicked off of me as Tommy grabbed it by the scruff and tossed it away. Bailey had drilled one in the forehead and now it was three on three. It just kept getting stranger as the three remaining began to back up, Tommy advanced.

  And then it struck me, if I took longer than a blink to think shit through I would have figured out what was going on. It was a diversion, and Azile was the target. No matter how lofty I thought of myself, I was just hired muscle as was Tommy and Bailey. Azile was the prize – if she went down, everything would fall apart. It really is a chore being this damn stupid. No sooner had I pulled myself free from the werewolf and I was up and sprinting back towards the way we had come. Tommy hacked at one that was determined to follow and stop me. Bailey couldn’t get off a clean shot and was using her bayonet to hold the other two off.

  Three I hadn’t seen before had circled around and were approaching Azile from the back, she seemed completely unaware. Her eyes half-closed, hands held up about to her waist, palms facing heavenwards. It was possible she was saying something, but I was running entirely too fast to make out such a small detail. The shockwave caught me mid-flight. I had launched when I realized I was going to come up short in my intercept course. One moment I was leaping headlong towards Azile with the express intent of knocking her over, the next, a wall of wind forced me off course. It was like a bomb had gone off and I was caught in the concussive wave. I was really getting sick of being knocked off my feet.

  The werewolves who had been closer seemed to be suffering more. They were stirring – but not quickly – blood leaking from their ears. When I realized I could hear nothing, not cries nor screams, or the clang of metal, I figured my eardrums had been punctured as well. I did not have the time to reach up and touch the sticky fluid I knew would be coming down the side of my face. I wasn’t entirely sure what was keeping Azile standing. She was swaying like wheat in a gale. The maneuver had bought me some time, it looked as if one of the werewolves would never move again, I wondered if she had fried his brain. Then I wondered if I had been close enough that she had done that to me, although with all the illegal substances I had used over the years, it would be doubtful if anyone would notice a difference.

  I had no idea if she had planned it this way, but she collapsed just as a mighty paw swept over where her head had been. It would be cool to think she pulled off a ninja move like that, but she hit the ground hard and didn’t look like she was going to get up for a while. My sword caught the werewolf between the third and fourth finger and sliced through its hand and halfway up its forearm. It was a gruesome injury, half of its forearm sloughed off. It wrenched back pulling my sword with it. I was without my weapon and hadn’t felt quite so naked since that o
ne time I had almost been caught with my girlfriend back when we were both sixteen and her father had come home from work early. The couch had seemed like a perfectly acceptable place to have a heavy petting session. Hell, at sixteen, where doesn’t seem like a good place?