Lycanthropic (Book 4): Moon Rise [The Age of the Werewolf]
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She kept her eyes firmly on the ground so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with any of the strangers. There were ropes everywhere, and cooking utensils, and all kinds of rubbish, so it was sensible for her to look at her feet. Besides, she had no idea where she was going, so she had no need to look up. It didn’t matter which way she went.
If I have a panic attack, I just need to close my eyes and breathe deeply.
But no panic attack came.
One footstep she took, and then another, and still nothing awful happened. No one tried to speak to her. No one even seemed to notice she was there.
I am invisible. I can walk anywhere, and no one can see me.
The thought strengthened her resolve, and after a while she found herself at the very edge of the tents, all the people behind her. She walked on across the empty field, the wind blowing gently at her hair, the bright sun warming her face. Sensations she had not felt for so long.
Is this how it feels to be alive?
Suddenly an army convoy was approaching, noisy and overwhelming. She froze in her tracks, closed her eyes and waited for it to pass, but instead it drew to a halt and soldiers poured out of the vehicles. Sarah almost shut down in panic.
Breathe deeply.
She stood still and hugged herself tight, her eyes screwed shut, willing the men to leave her alone. But their voices grew louder and were soon joined by others. Something bad was happening, and she was at its centre. Her heart began to thud so loudly she could no longer hear what was being said. People gathered around her, pressing against her, and she moved to the front of the crowd to escape from their reach. Angry shouts began. Loud noises. She clamped her hands to her ears, but then three deafening gunshots rang out.
She opened her eyes and could hardly believe what she saw.
James.
He was cowering on the ground in a pitiful state. She wanted to rush over to him and hug him close, but soldiers barred her way. More people arrived and there was more shouting. Then suddenly a woman in a white coat, a doctor, was in front of her, saying she was going to experiment on James.
Sarah reached out and clutched at the doctor’s sleeve. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Let me help.’
Everything had happened in a whirl. The woman, Doctor Helen Eastgate, had tried to shake her off, but she had persisted. Seeing James there, in such desperate need, had pushed all fear from her mind.
‘I’m not a doctor, or even a trained nurse,’ she had explained to Doctor Eastgate. ‘But I know a lot about medicine, and I have years of practical experience.’
Somehow she had convinced the doctor to take her on as a lab assistant.
‘Well, I could use some help,’ Helen had said eventually, after quizzing Sarah on her medical knowledge. ‘Welcome to the team.’
Sarah hadn’t said a word to Helen about knowing James. She knew instinctively that she had to keep that secret.
‘Don’t tell anyone that you know me,’ she whispered to him now. ‘If the doctor finds out, she’ll send me away.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’m going to find a way to get you out of here.’
How, she didn’t know. But she was here in the lab, and she had gained Helen’s trust. She would find a way to free James.
Sarah had never had a proper job before. She still didn’t really know what this one was. But that didn’t matter. As long as she was close to James. And remarkably, she had quickly grown used to being in the doctor’s presence. Helen Eastgate had a relaxed manner that quickly put her at ease. Being away from Melanie probably helped too.
‘We’re going to run a series of experiments,’ Helen explained to her. ‘I’ve already identified a donor who possesses natural immunity to lycanthropy. My hope is that we can use her blood to undo the damaging effects of the virus in the test subject.’
‘A cure, you mean?’
‘That’s my ultimate goal. We’ll be injecting small amounts of the donor’s blood into the patient’s bloodstream, to see if the antibodies can reverse the genetic changes that have made him lycanthropic.’
‘Where did you find the … test subject?’ asked Sarah.
‘The soldiers picked him up outside the fence,’ said Helen. ‘It looks like they had to beat him to subdue him, but he’s not badly hurt. The injuries are just superficial. I’ve applied some first aid to fix his wounds.’
Sarah tried not to let her gaze linger over James’ injuries. ‘Is this the first time you’ve tried the cure?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Helen flashed her a smile. ‘We’re making history here, Sarah.’
‘And are you confident it will work?’
‘I actually have no idea,’ admitted Helen. ‘But there’s only one way to find out.’
An armed soldier unlocked the cage and stood on guard while Sarah helped to prepare James for the first test. As Helen had instructed her, she bound his fingers securely with tape so that he wouldn’t be able to scratch her, and fixed a mask over his face to stop him biting. Then she rolled up his sleeve and held his arm.
James didn’t struggle as Helen administered the first injection.
As soon as it was done, the soldier locked the cage again.
‘Might the antibodies harm him in some way?’ asked Sarah, doing her best to conceal her horror at the prospect.
Helen must have detected some concern in her voice, because she answered, ‘Sarah, it’s only natural to feel pity for this man. I can’t help but feel some myself. But although he may look fully human, believe me, I’ve seen what these creatures are truly like. They feel no kindness, no empathy, no compassion. All humanity is gone. You must always remind yourself that this is no longer a man, but a cold-blooded predator with only the outward appearance of a human being.’
‘But could the injection kill him?’
‘It’s possible,’ said Helen. ‘If that happens, I’ll ask Colonel Sharman to find us a new test subject.’
Chapter Thirty
Iver Heath, West London, crescent moon
As soon as he left London, Mr Canning’s world turned green again.
Behind him lay a hellish wasteland, blackened and ruined, where nothing lived. Ahead of him was lush vegetation – fields and trees, hedgerows and flowers. Birds sang in the sky, and in the distance he glimpsed sheep suckling their lambs. He had always been fond of the English countryside. Now it seemed nothing less than a promised land, overflowing with milk and honey.
‘You see?’ said Leanna triumphantly. ‘Not everything has been destroyed.’
He nodded, struck dumb with relief.
‘Which way to Windsor?’ she asked.
Canning looked about. ‘That way. It ought to be around ten miles from here. We can easily make it before sundown.’
‘Then come on!’
They set off down a country path that wound between the trees, all disconcertingly normal. Canning was still getting used to the sun in the sky, instead of a stone roof above his head. The world seemed to have grown much larger during the time he had spent underground.
‘What will you do when we get there?’ he asked Leanna. She had still not shared any details of her grand scheme with him. He could have told her that ruling the world was merely an objective, not a plan. But he decided to keep that thought to himself.
‘Wait and see.’
Was this how it would be, then? Mutual mistrust? Was that really a sound basis for teamwork?
‘Am I your fool?’ he asked her sharply. ‘Do you keep me merely for your amusement? Shall I dress like a jester and perform tricks to entertain you? Or do you expect me to contribute something to our partnership?’
She smiled at him, and perhaps for the first time since meeting her, he imagined he saw genuine warmth. ‘Don’t worry. You have demonstrated your loyalty to me by saving my life.’
Ah, recognition of his heroic action at last. Well, it was about time.
She continued, ‘I will give you plenty of opportunity to use your skills and talents to the ful
l. But be patient.’
Her smile faltered and she sniffed the air.
Canning smelled it too. ‘Werewolves.’
The werewolves crept out of the undergrowth where they had been hiding all around. A group of perhaps a dozen, both men and women, in human form of course, dressed in camouflaged combat uniforms. They were armed with a variety of weapons – blades and guns; pistols and rifles.
Canning felt foolish. He and Leanna had been crashing through the undergrowth, talking openly, as if the world belonged to them. No wonder they had been caught by surprise.
One of the newcomers was obviously their leader. He stepped forward from the ring that had encircled Canning and Leanna, an assault rifle in his hands. ‘Well, well. What do we have here?’
Leanna marched up to him and put her hands on her hips. ‘Do you know me?’ she demanded.
He smiled thinly. ‘I know who you are. Leanna. I served in the Wolf Army under Warg Daddy. We all did.’
He gestured at the others, who grunted their acknowledgement. But their guns were raised. Their faces were hostile.
Canning studied them carefully. Four men, eight women, plus their leader. Unlucky thirteen.
‘My name is Nathan. We fought for you once, and were proud to serve the Wolf Army. We would have lain down our lives for you. But the Wolf Army is no more. You and Warg Daddy abandoned us and left us to die. We serve ourselves now, and no other.’
Leanna stood her ground. ‘I did not abandon you. Warg Daddy betrayed me. He betrayed all of us. Join me again. I will build a new Wolf Army.’
‘No.’ Nathan gripped his assault rifle with both hands. ‘Those days are gone. It’s dog eat dog now. And we’re top dogs in this neck of the woods.’
Canning picked out the weakest individual in the group, a young woman armed only with a hunting knife, and shifted toward her. Her gaze was fixed on Nathan, and she held the knife loosely. He could take her easily. But she was only one of many. The other twelve mostly had guns. He hoped Leanna would play this cool.
She raised her voice in anger. ‘I am no dog! I am your queen. Now kneel before me!’
Canning swallowed nervously. That had not been cool. But it had created an opening. The others were all focussed on Leanna now. No one was watching him.
Nathan laughed cruelly and aimed his rifle at her head. ‘That’s not going to happen, Leanna. I was planning to just shoot you, but since you like ordering people about, I think it might be more fun if you kneeled down and begged for your life.’
An unearthly shriek erupted from Leanna’s lips.
Canning moved fast, barrelling toward his chosen target, grabbing her arm and plucking the knife from her grasp. He twisted her around and used her body as a human shield. One of the men opened fire at him with a semi-automatic, and Canning charged him down, using the woman’s body to absorb a stream of bullets. He landed heavily on his assailant and plunged the hunting knife into his throat with both hands, pinning his lifeless body to the ground.
Leanna had launched herself at Nathan, using Canning’s surprise attack to grab hold of the barrel of his gun and swing it away from her. The assault rifle opened up, dealing a deadly spray of lead in the general direction of Nathan’s neighbours. Screams and shouts rent the air.
Canning seized the semi-automatic and opened fire, rolling into a rough patch of bushes as shots were returned. He might have only one eye, but it was keen and precise. Already half of the combatants were down.
Meanwhile Leanna had entered a berserk frenzy, sinking her teeth into Nathan’s neck, while simultaneously raking the clearing with bullets from the assault rifle. Blood and screams filled the air. Leanna spun a deadly dance, shooting wildly in all directions, seeming without care for her own safety. Or Canning’s, for that matter.
From his hiding place amid the brambles and scrub, Canning continued to fire. The enemy shooters were poorly trained, opening fire with a hailstorm of bullets and quickly having to stop to reload their weapons. He picked them off one by one.
Nathan’s body sank to the ground and Leanna snatched the rifle from his dead hands. She closed on the remaining werewolves, gunning them down mercilessly until only one remained.
The last survivor, a scrawny man armed with a pistol, threw down his weapon and put his hands in the air. ‘Please, have mercy!’
Leanna strode up to him, kicked the weapon aside and pushed the barrel of her gun into his face, knocking him onto his back. The man gibbered in terror, his eyes screwed shut. Leanna dropped her gun, fell astride his chest and gripped his head tightly between her hands. ‘What is your name?’ she demanded.
The man opened his eyes cautiously. ‘Aaron.’
‘And where are you from, Aaron?’
‘Windsor. We’re all living in Windsor now, inside the castle.’
‘How many are you?’
‘Close to a hundred.’
‘And you are all from the Wolf Army?’
‘Yes.’
Leanna scowled. ‘Warg Daddy did not train you well.’ She cast her gaze around the dozen corpses that littered the glade. ‘You were not worthy opponents.’
‘No.’
‘Stand up!’ she ordered.
Aaron rose shakily to his feet. ‘Please don’t kill me,’ he begged.
‘Return to Windsor,’ Leanna ordered him. ‘Tell your friends to prepare themselves for my arrival. Together, we will build a new Wolf Army, under the leadership of General Canning. He will teach you how to fight, and how to win battles. You will no longer bring shame on yourselves, as you did today.’
Canning’s eyes opened wide at the mention of his name and his new title. He was still reeling from having almost been killed.
‘Tell them to welcome me in victory,’ continued Leanna, ‘or else to flee like rats. Any who defy my authority will be slaughtered. But for those who prove their loyalty, I promise they will be rewarded.’
Chapter Thirty-One
Gatwick Airport, West Sussex
‘So, let me get this straight,’ said Vijay. ‘You’re telling me that Liz is a vampire?’
He and the other two boys were up on the hotel rooftop again. It was a good place to meet and talk. No one else knew how to get up here. It was their secret hiding place. And besides, Vijay liked it here. From this height he could see for miles. He liked to sit here and stare into the distance, wondering where Rose might be.
‘A vampire, yeah,’ said Drake. ‘Try to pay attention, Vijay.’
Drake and Mihai must think he was extremely gullible to fall for this latest prank. He studied the two boys suspiciously, but they seemed sincere, especially the Romanian boy, and Vijay didn’t think he was the kind to tell tall tales. Not unless he really believed in them.
‘Is nosferatu, yes,’ said Mihai. ‘Is vampir.’ The kid was certainly very insistent. His English wasn’t up to much, but he seemed to know his Romanian folklore. If Mihai could be believed, central Europe must have been absolutely crawling with werewolves, vampires and other kinds of shape-shifters and monsters for centuries past. It was surprising that more people hadn’t reported them to the authorities. Although, according to Mihai, they had.
‘Everyone know about vampir,’ said Mihai. ‘Is in books. Is on TV. Is very famous.’
‘And you believe that Liz is one?’ Vijay asked Drake.
‘Yeah, trust me. It’s legit. You ain’t seen what happens to her when she changes. She’s, I dunno, like a whirlwind, running through flames, kicking arse. Her eyes light up all bright and shiny and she has sharp fangs and everything.’
Vijay studied the others through narrowed eyes, waiting for them to crack into fits of laughter, but their faces remained straight. ‘You’re not just winding me up?’
‘No, seriously. You must have noticed how pale her skin has become?’
‘I thought that was just the sunblock she wears.’
‘And her blood red lips?’
‘Lipstick.’
Drake scowled. ‘You’ve seen the
amount of meat she eats. I mean, everyone likes to munch on a bacon sarnie, yeah? But Liz can’t get enough of the stuff. She’ll eat the bacon and leave the bread on the plate.’
It was true that Liz seemed very partial to all kinds of meat, especially the most stomach-churning kinds. But Kevin was exactly the same. Vijay had watched the man put away a whole plate of liver once. Disgusting. It probably just ran in the family. ‘That doesn’t prove she’s a vampire,’ he said. ‘Since when did vampires eat meat anyway? They don’t do that on TV. I thought they just drank blood.’
‘Mate, she’d drink blood if she could, but they don’t have none of that down at the canteen, do they? Look, you believe in werewolves, yeah? So just believe in vampires too. I dunno what your problem is.’
Vijay stared out across the distant tarmac of the runway, and beyond that at the fence that kept them all safe. Drake made a valid point. There was no doubting that werewolves were real. They were out there, right now. And if werewolves were real, why not vampires too?
He waited one last moment to see if Drake and Mihai would crack. If this was a wind-up, he would kill them both. ‘Okay, I believe you,’ he said. ‘So both werewolves and vampires came from Romania originally?’
‘Yes,’ said Mihai. ‘In Romania, werewolf is called vârcolac. Vampire is vampir. Is many other monsters in Romania too. Strigoi, moroi …’
‘Don’t ask him to explain them all,’ said Drake hurriedly. ‘They’re like, way too complicated for anyone to understand. The country’s just stuffed with bloody monsters.’
‘And we think that all these creatures are really victims of a disease?’ said Vijay. ‘Lycanthropy.’
‘Right,’ said Drake. ‘At least I do, anyway. Mihai still thinks they’re demons, or something.’
The boy shrugged. ‘Maybe disease turns people into demons.’
Vijay stopped to think over the implications. ‘So, does this mean that Liz is dangerous? Ought we to report her to the people in charge? Like Major Hall?’
‘No!’ said Drake, immediately. ‘Of course not, you idiot! Major Hall would have her shot by firing squad.’