by Chris Fox
They continued down the corridor, eventually reaching the spot where he and Bridget had paused to study the glyphs that very first day. He stared up at the beautifully scripted wall, understanding it in a way he couldn’t possibly have then. It was so clear. The tide of undead washing across the world. The champions standing against them. Citizens coming willingly to their deaths because they knew there must be champions to save the rest of them.
Even this place was described, an Ark. Not the Ark. An Ark, one of many. This place held so many secrets, but he’d bought understanding at the cost of an even more precious commodity. Time. He just didn’t have it. Blair hurried forward, aware of Elmira’s form flitting from shadow to shadow. There was no sign of Liz.
He made his way deeper, eventually reaching the final slope that led into the central chamber. He remembered Steve’s shattered husk, the broken remains of a great man. He remembered long hours with Bridget, her presence inspiring the same lust it always had, despite her betrayal. Most of all, he remembered dying, just a few hundred steps from where he stood now. Would he die again today, this time more permanently?
“Listen,” Elmira hissed, flitting to the shadow next to one of the statues lining the corridor. “Do you hear that? Up above. The way we came.”
Blair listened. He heard a clatter of metal boots on stone. A lot of boots. Too many for him to make out their number. Those boots were still distant, but they were getting closer. That had to be an armed response. Soldiers would be here soon. He dropped to one knee, reaching for the cables. “They know we’re here. Liz, I’m going to cut the power. We’re out of time.”
“Do it. I’ll get down to the central chamber and scout their position. Blair, do that mindshare thing with Elmira and me,” Liz commanded, still shrouded in shadows. “Once we know what we’re dealing with, we’ll formulate a better plan.”
73
Free
Bridget awoke with a gasp, scrambling backward as she wildly studied her surroundings. She’d been dreaming about a different world, one covered in ice and snow. The pieces melted through her fingers, leaving nothing but ephemeral images. She lay against the wall of her cell, nightgown soaked through with sweat.
A hurried set of footsteps and the rapid heartbeat they belonged to ran down the corridor outside. They stopped outside of her cell, which opened with a hiss and revealed Sheila’s wide brown eyes. She wore an ill-fitting soldier’s uniform, complete with a matte-black helmet.
“We have to get you out of here,” she panted, chest heaving. She darted a glance behind her and then turned back to Bridget. “If you can break your restraints, now is the time. I spiked some coffee and gave it to the gate guards. We have maybe five or ten minutes before someone notices something.”
“Sheila, what are you doing? They’ll kill you for helping me,” Bridget replied, rising to her feet as gracefully as the restraints would allow her to.
“Only if they can catch me,” she said, leaning on the doorframe as she caught her breath. “Jordan let slip that Blair is coming, and given the fact that every soldier is grabbing a gun, I’m guessing he’s arrived. I’m hoping you can get me up to the ridge above camp, then come back and help him do whatever he needs to do.”
“Of course, Sheila. Stand back,” Bridget said, closing her eyes. She summoned all the fury, all the helplessness she’d experienced these past weeks. It was finally time to fight back.
She opened the cage, allowing the beast free rein. It came surging forward, but instead of repressing her conscious mind, the beast’s mingled with hers. They were one blended being, united in their need to escape this place, to right the injustices that had been inflicted on them.
Bridget sucked in a deep breath and let out a howl that shook the walls. It grew deeper as she changed, muscles writhing as fur burst from her body. By the time the howl ended, the transformation was complete. She stood hunched in the cell, her back and shoulders pressed against the comically low roof.
The restraints had grown to accommodate her larger form, but no matter how strong they were, they had a breaking point. Bridget strained, pulling her wrists apart with as much strength as she could muster. Her arms burned with exertion for long seconds. Then the restraints gave way in a shower of broken metal. She repeated the process with her ankles, stepping into the hallway to join Sheila.
“Let’s go. Run for the ridge. I’ll be behind you, in the shadows. If anything tries to stop you, I will deal with it,” she snarled.
74
Unexpected Allies
Trevor watched in horror as floodlights burst to life throughout the camp. Eight armored figures sprinted for the tunnel leading into the pyramid. They moved with military precision, in two columns of four. He remembered them from San Diego. How could he forget? He, Liz, and Blair had been forced to run then, and they’d only had to deal with four. Now there were twice as many and who knew what defenses inside the pyramid. They boiled out of the camp as though they were ants scrambling from a struck anthill, moving to encircle the pyramid’s western face, where the entrance lay. This whole op was going to hell very quickly.
He moved his scope to the closest building, the one just beyond Adolpho and Cyntia’s hiding spot. A figure burst out, but unlike the others, she darted away from the pyramid, toward the cliff. She kept shooting glances over her shoulder, scrambling across the rocky ground with the sort of desperation reserved for those who know their lives depend on running.
“No, no, no,” Trevor murmured, dropping the scope and surveying the area around the fugitive. His fears were confirmed. At least two dozen soldiers had taken notice. Their training wouldn’t allow them to ignore someone fleeing during a combat op. They’d be compelled to investigate. If the person had simply walked away calmly, she might have had a chance.
The Mohn soldiers took up the hunt like a pack of hounds, fanning out as they moved in her direction. Trevor’s jaw dropped as a patch of darkness sprouted claws, rending the soldier at the rear of the group. Trevor glanced down at Cyntia’s hiding spot, but she was still there. Another female werewolf had joined the fight, but he had no idea who she was.
Adolpho broke from cover, pointing at the soldiers and barking something that the wind snatched away. A half dozen shapes loped through the darkness, those dogs that had managed to find their way down to him. There were far fewer than he’d arrived with, maybe five or six. The soldiers reacted instantly, several dropping to firing positions behind rocks as they brought their weapons to bear.
The layered staccato of multiple rifles split the night as bullets pinged and whined below. Some found their targets, and three of the dogs dropped. One of the survivors, a burly Rottweiler, tackled one of the soldiers who’d fired. The pair went down in a tangle of limbs.
Other soldiers were stopping now, lining up shots as they adjusted to multiple opponents. The stranger materialized behind one of them, tearing out his throat before disappearing again. Trevor had a better look this time and could clearly see silver fur. Blair was the only silver werewolf that he knew of, but this was clearly a female.
The fugitive continued her mad dash, bounding over rocks as she made her way to the base of the ridge. That gave Trevor a moment of pause. There was no way the person could have climbed it unaided, not without the help of a werewolf or a jet pack. She must be working with the strange new werewolf.
He compartmentalized the situation, settling his cheek against the rifle as he peered through the scope again. Enemy of my enemy and all that. What mattered right now was downing those soldiers so his people could live. He found his first target, a tall man taking shelter behind a boulder. He ducked from cover and loosed a volley from his assault rifle. Trevor couldn’t see the man’s target, so he had no idea if the shots hit.
He cleared his mind, settling the crosshairs over the man’s throat. Then he stroked the trigger. A thunderous crack echoed across the valley as the man’s head evaporated into gory mist. Trevor glanced up from the scope, surveying the battle for
more targets. There was an abundance of them. The last few dogs had already gone down.
Cyntia had apparently melted into the shadows with the newcomer, which left Adolpho and the fugitive. The fugitive had been smart enough to take cover between the large boulders at the base of the ridge, leaving Adolpho as the only viable target for almost twenty soldiers.
A withering hail of bullets lanced into him, knocking him back like a hurricane would a plastic bag. He rolled behind a boulder, probably buying himself time to heal. Then Cyntia appeared, disemboweling one soldier and then immediately slashing the throat of another. The silver seemed to take that as her cue, and she leapt from the darkness and into a trio of soldiers.
That still left over a dozen, with overlapping fields of fire. They lit Adolpho up, peppering the grey with a withering storm of bullets. He tried desperately to hide behind the rocks, but there was simply nowhere to go. Werewolf or not, his body was still flesh and blood, and Trevor watched in horror as Adolpho fell limply to the ground. The hail didn’t slacken, more and more bullets sending up gouts of blood and gore as they tore the body apart.
Trevor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn’t help Adolpho, but he could avenge him. He opened his eyes and found another target. Then another. Reload, aim, kill. He picked off four more before he ran out of targets. Cyntia and the silver crouched next to Adolpho’s corpse, talking.
The silver put a hand on Cyntia’s shoulder and then sprinted for the base of the ridge. She scooped up the fugitive like a toddler and began to bound up the steep hillside like a mountain goat on speed. Cyntia stayed with Adolpho for long moments before she followed.
Trevor rose to his feet and took a step back from the cliff. He rested a hand on his .45 and waited as calmly as he could. Not long after, the silver bounded over the lip of the ridge, landing heavily several feet away. She set the fugitive down. The woman had short brown hair and was wearing a Mohn uniform. Her face was pale and drawn, and she seemed to fight for breath, though he wasn’t sure if that was from exertion, fear, or altitude sickness. Maybe all of them.
“Who are you?” Trevor asked, pointedly ignoring the silver. He was totally not terrified of the nine-foot werewolf just a few feet away.
“My name is Sheila. I’m part of the team that’s been studying this place. We’re the ones who started this whole thing, who unleashed the werewolves,” she gasped, clutching at her chest. She looked like she might keel over at any moment, pausing to breathe in several more sharp lungfuls of cool night before she continued. “You don’t seem all that surprised by the sight of a werewolf. You’re here with Blair, aren’t you?”
“You know Blair?” Trevor asked, removing his hand from his weapon. “Yes, I’m with him. He just took a team into the pyramid.”
“Oh, thank God,” she gasped, leaning heavily against the granite. She turned to face the silver. “We may actually have a chance. You should get down there and help him.”
“Not until I’m sure you’re safe,” the silver rumbled, fixing Trevor with a baleful stare.
“If you threaten him, I will rip out your heart and eat it,” Cyntia rumbled, stepping from the shadows just a few feet from Trevor.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said, stabbing a finger at the pyramid. “Blair and Liz are down there. They’re going to need whatever help we can provide. Both of you furry types should get your asses down there and help. I promise Sheila will be safe. She looks like death, and she probably needs to get to lower elevation, or she might get pulmonary edema. I’ll get her back to the car where she can rest. Is everyone happy with that?”
The silver nodded grudgingly. Cyntia looked like she might argue, but when the silver bounded over the cliff and down the ridge, she trailed after. That left him with Sheila.
“So I’m guessing you know all about our impending zombie friends?” he asked, relaxing enough to turn back to the camp. He didn’t trust her yet, but if she couldn’t breathe, she wasn’t much of a threat. Besides, if she was on the level, Blair might need her help deciphering everything in the pyramid. Assuming they’d live.
“Zombies?” she asked, obviously confused.
“I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and helping her down the path back to the car.
75
Casualties
Liz draped the shadows around her, prowling the darkness as she loped down the corridor and into what could only be the central chamber. She paused at the entryway, surveying the room before her. Several chrome stand lamps provided a modicum of illumination. She assumed they must run on some sort of batteries, because they’d apparently survived Blair cutting the power.
The lights revealed five obelisks, one in each corner and a larger one in the center. They’d clearly been constructed by the same culture that had built this place, and they clashed sharply with the more recent additions. A pair of bulky black turrets atop tripods sat on opposite sides of the room. Each had a wicked-looking barrel and a small red dot that ceaselessly scanned the darkness for targets. They passed right over her seemingly without notice.
The hall opposite the doorway she stood in had the most obvious modifications. A wide semicircle of concrete had been erected, with a narrow steel door set in the center. Four slits had been left in the stonework, probably to allow people to fire out at targets without exposing themselves.
On either side of the stonework stood a guard in the same armor she’d fought in San Diego. They too watched the darkness for targets, the faceless masks they wore probably allowing them to see in darkness, somehow. Their vigilance was hardly surprising. Dousing the lights had no doubt alerted them.
Liz considered the situation. Blair had to survive to reach the Mother, no matter the cost. Then, if they were very lucky, the Mother would help them deal with Mohn. If not, all of this would be for nothing. The pyramid only had one exit, so everything Mohn could bring to bear was about to come down on them like an avalanche.
They had to get inside before reinforcements arrived. They’d have to deal with the turrets, kill the armored guards, and then break down that steel door. It was a tall order whether they were werewolves or not.
Liz, can you hear me? Blair’s voice echoed in her mind.
“I can hear you,” she whispered, almost soundlessly. “Can you see what I’m seeing?”
I can, Blair’s disembodied voice said. Let me deal with the turrets. When the guards come for me, you and Elmira deal with the guards and get that door down.
“Got it,” she murmured, moving silently down the ramp into the chamber. She circled to the far side, maybe twenty feet from the armored guard on the right. She could be on him in a heartbeat as soon as Blair had the man’s attention.
Liz held her breath as she realized she needed to pee. That almost drew a hysterical laugh. It was just so incongruous to the situation. But she gritted her teeth and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.
Blair’s silver form appeared in the doorway for just an instant before he blurred to the middle of the room, near the central obelisk. He was directly between the pair of turrets. She wanted to drag him into the shadows but resisted the urge as both turrets swiveled in his direction. They moved more quickly than the guards, though each armored form had begun to react as well.
Her heart leapt into her throat as the turrets began to chatter. A stream of brass shells ejected from the top of each as bright gouts of flame erupted from each muzzle. The rounds streaked toward Blair faster than the eye could follow. He moved even more quickly, blurring away in a roll that carried him to the far side of the obelisk. That would shelter him from the guards, at least.
What he’d set in motion took a moment to register. Blair had been directly between the turrets. Once he’d moved, the rounds they had fired continued forward and into the turret on the opposite side of the room. Both boxy contraptions exploded into sparks as they were knocked onto their sides, severely damaged from the friendly fire.
&n
bsp; She turned her attention back to the guards, who’d already begun a flanking maneuver to get a line of sight to Blair’s hiding place. Liz had a perfect view of the closest guard’s back, and she used it to devastating effect. She leapt forward, tackling the armor to the ground with a screech of metal. She slammed the helmet against the marble floor as hard as she could once, twice, and then a third time. The faceplate cracked but didn’t shatter. Damn, these things were tough.
Before she could do more, her opponent reacted, twisting his body to get an arm free. He extended his metal claws, scything them through the tendon of her right leg as he bucked his entire body. The move sent her toppling to the floor and allowed him to roll away. He came to his feet, pausing for a split second to eye the rifle he’d dropped when she tackled him. She knew he’d never make it, and he seemed to reach the same conclusion, cracked faceplate swiveling back to her.
She rose to her feet, baring her fangs and willing the injury to heal as she rested her weight on her good leg. The soldier didn’t give her time, launching himself at her with both sets of claws. She caught his arms, but he came down on her with all his weight. Her bad leg gave way, and they fell to the marble, both straining for the upper hand.
Liz twisted suddenly, rolling on top of her opponent. She brought her face down in a vicious head butt, finally shattering the faceplate. The man within was in his early thirties. He had a thick black goatee and silver sunglasses. It was the same man she’d fought in San Diego. He snarled up at her. “Is time to die, little wolf.”
She had just enough time to think he was overconfident before she realized her mistake. With her body atop his, she made a perfect target for the slits set into the man-made bunker Mohn had constructed. Automatic weapons’ fire thundered through the room as pain blossomed all over her body. Liz scrambled off her opponent with a shriek, rolling back into the shadows in desperate flight.