Lycanthropic (Book 4): Moon Rise [The Age of the Werewolf]

by Morris, Steve

  ‘It’s the patients,’ said Melanie. ‘They’ve turned.’

  Ben raised his finger to his lips and drew her away from the door. They were in a smaller reception room, perhaps once a sitting room or a lounge. Now all the furniture had been removed, and the carpet lifted to reveal a bare wooden floor. They tiptoed across it to the exit opposite.

  He put his ear to the door and listened carefully. Shouts, gunshots and howls came from outside the building, and from other parts of the hotel, including the upstairs rooms where many of the patients treated with James’ blood had been housed, but the room beyond was silent. He turned the handle and pushed the door open.

  The large space beyond must once have been the hotel’s main dining room. It had been converted to an operations room by the army. Desks were arranged in rows and groups, each one brimming with hastily rigged-up telephones, computer terminals and paperwork. Half of the desks and chairs were overturned on the floor, and bodies lay where they had fallen – a mix of soldiers, civilians and wolves. Nearby a man groaned.

  Ben hurried over to him. The man was an officer, wearing air force uniform. He was badly injured from a bite to the side of his neck, and held his hand to the wound, attempting to staunch the flow of blood.

  Ben pulled a jacket from the back of a nearby chair and wrapped it around the officer’s neck, to help slow the bleeding. ‘What happened?’ he asked, cradling the man’s head in his hands.

  The wounded man was displaying clear signs of a severe anaphylactic reaction. His forehead was clammy and bright with sweat. He struggled to speak, his voice rasping and coming between shallow gasps. ‘The patients … the lycanthropes … some of them … some of them have turned.’

  ‘How many?’ asked Ben.

  The man closed his eyes, then forced them open again with obvious difficulty. ‘The camp … the attack … the others …’

  ‘What others?’ asked Ben.

  The man’s voice grew weaker. ‘They chose … even before the moon … they chose …’ His eyes closed again, and he grew still.

  Ben let him go.

  ‘We just need to find Sarah and James and get them out,’ said Melanie. ‘Nothing else matters now.’

  Ben nodded. She was right. This was not the time to save the world. If they could save two people, it would be enough.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, pulling her behind him. ‘Stay close. Don’t do anything rash.’

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Glastonbury Tor, Somerset, full moon

  Josh dragged Rose away from the fire and out of the ruined church onto the open hilltop. It was fully dark now and the cool evening breeze had settled, making the night still and crisp. The hot flames behind them cast moving shadows far across the flat hilltop. In the distance, a milky white line on the horizon promised that the moon would soon rise.

  Back inside the tower, the flute player had started up a tune once more. ‘Oh, yeah, what a beautiful night,’ said Josh. ‘Just you, me, the music.’

  Rose tried to resist, but he was too strong. He laughed as she tried to wrestle free of him.

  Nutmeg appeared and jumped up at him, snapping her jaws and barking.

  ‘Ow, that fucking dog!’ cried Josh. He gave Nutmeg a quick kick and she yelped, leaving off her attack and giving a low growl.

  Rose scratched at Josh’s arm with her fingernails, just like Brittany had scratched her, but he gave her a hard slap on the face.

  ‘Don’t you fucking try that again. I’ll tell you what, Rose, you’d better do just what I tell you, or else I’ll kill your dog and serve her as a midnight feast.’

  Rose stopped struggling. She didn’t doubt that Josh would do just that. ‘Run away, girl!’ she called to Nutmeg. ‘Go on, run!’

  The dog cocked her head to one side, puzzled, but then seemed to understand. She disappeared down the side of the hill, limping slightly, and was gone.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Josh, ‘That’s better. What was I saying? You, me, the music. Let’s dance!’

  He started to jerk her arms in time to the music, wrapping one strong arm around her waist and drawing her close. She felt his body push up against hers, but was powerless to force him away. A sense of panic was building in her, but she fought against it. She thought of all the terrors she had known – the biker gang slaughtering dogs in the kennels where she had worked, the huge black wolf that had nearly killed her on the night of New Year’s Eve, and the horror of Mr Canning strangling her brother, Oscar, in his wheelchair. Once, those memories had held a terrible power over her, making her weak, rendering her almost incapable of action. Now they made her strong, for she knew that whatever kind of monster Josh was, he was not a literal monster of the kind she had already faced.

  And though she had the body of a weak girl, inside she had a core of steel.

  She couldn’t push him away, so instead she tried to distract him. ‘The moon will be rising soon. Don’t you want to see what happens to Chris?’

  Josh shook his head. ‘Not really. You know, I never really thought he was a werewolf. I was just having some fun. To tell you the truth, I’m still not sure I really believe in werewolves.’

  ‘What? How can you not?’

  ‘Yeah, I know that they were all over the news and everything, but I’ve never actually seen one for real. You ever seen one?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Whoa! Really? What was it like? Scary?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Too frightening to talk about? Yeah, I totally get that.’ He brushed the long hair from her eyes. ‘I guess we all have some things we can’t talk about. Things that happened to us that made us the way we are. It’s hard to talk about some of those things, isn’t it?’

  Rose shivered. If Josh was going to start telling her some sob story in an attempt to justify his behaviour, she didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘You cold, babes?’ he said, wrapping his arms around her. ‘Come on, let’s walk a little so we can have some privacy.’ He began to lead her away from the tower. She struggled, but he pushed her on relentlessly. ‘There’s no use pretending you don’t want me, Rose. I’ve seen the way you look at me.’

  ‘I don’t want you,’ she said. ‘I hate you.’

  His eyes flared with anger, then he recovered himself. ‘Playing it that way, eh? That’s cool. I can work with that. But whatever you say, I know what you really want. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel your body language. You’ve had the hots for me ever since you first saw me. I’m like that with girls, you know? Brittany was the same. Couldn’t wait to get her clothes off, the minute she laid eyes on me.’

  ‘You make me sick,’ said Rose. ‘You –’

  The sound of an engine came to her then across the still air. The faint roar of a motorbike. More than one.

  Josh had heard it too. ‘Now who the fuck can that be?’

  The noise of the engines grew quickly louder. They were coming closer. Josh spun around, searching for the approaching bikes. But the night was dark in all directions.

  On three of its sides, the Tor was too steep for a bike to climb, but in the fourth direction, the way they had come now, the slope was gentler. A rough track led up from the lower ground to the top. That must be the way the bikes were coming. Rose peered into the darkness, straining to see. As she looked, the beams of headlamps began to come into view beyond the lip of the hill. They grew dazzlingly bright as they approached. Soon there were too many to count. Tyres scrunched on gravel as the bikes ascended the path up the hillside.

  Josh raised his hand to shield his eyes as the bikes came up to them. Their engines were now a deafening throaty roar, drowning out all other sounds. The beams of their headlights were blinding.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ said Josh. ‘Where did these guys come from?’

  The first of the bikes pulled to a halt before them. Rose couldn’t see its rider behind the harsh glare of the headlight. The other bikes stopped behind the fi
rst, picking out a dark silhouette of the lead rider. The man sat astride his bike, hugely built, like a bull, unmoving, saying nothing.

  Rose’s flesh began to creep. She knew this man. She had seen the bikers before. The Wolf Brothers, they called themselves, and she knew what they were capable of. Back in London, in the kennels where she had helped look after peoples’ dogs, she had seen them go about their devilish work. Her legs began to quiver.

  Josh relaxed his grip on her. ‘Hey there, friends!’ he shouted. ‘Welcome to the party! Why don’t you guys ride on up to the tower? You can share our beer.’

  The only answer was the growl of the motorbikes.

  The lead rider killed his engine and switched off his headlamp.

  Now Rose could see him better. The muscular form, the black leather jacket, the dark glasses behind a black helmet. She knew that a white wolf was picked out on the back of that jacket. She knew that the head beneath that helmet was perfectly smooth, like a billiard ball. She knew that the man who rode that bike was a beast.

  The rider dismounted his bike. His passenger, a woman also wearing black leather, followed him. The rest of the biker gang switched off their engines and clustered round their leader. Some of them had rifles or shotguns strapped to their backs. Some of them carried baseball bats.

  Josh was looking nervous now. ‘Hey, guys! How’s it going?’

  The leader of the gang removed his helmet, revealing the bald head and black hairy face that Rose knew so well from her dreams. The wolf tattoo on his neck was just as she remembered. Every detail of his face was imprinted on her mind. He rubbed his shiny head with one huge thumb. ‘I know you,’ he said to her. ‘I remember you.’

  She nodded, too terrified to speak.

  ‘You know this guy?’ asked Josh, astonished. ‘Wow, that’s amazing.’ He offered his hand to the biker. ‘I’m Josh.’

  The man ignored him and rubbed his head again, making it squeak gently in the silent night. For a long while he said nothing. Josh lowered his arm.

  ‘About the dogs,’ said the man in black leather eventually.

  Rose nodded. The biker gang had butchered the dogs at the kennels mercilessly, battering them with hammers, skewering them with knives. It had been senseless cruelty and she had been powerless to stop it. She waited for the man to say more.

  ‘That was a mistake,’ he rumbled. ‘A bad decision. I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Dogs?’ said Josh. ‘Hey, is someone going to tell me what’s going on here?’

  The man in black leather turned to him, and slowly looked him up and down. ‘Is this guy a friend of yours?’ he asked Rose.

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  The biker stared hard at Josh for a full minute. ‘Okay. Kill him,’ he said.

  Two of the other bikers came forward and seized hold of Josh before he could run.

  ‘Hey guys, wait. Seriously,’ said Josh. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  Rose turned away. Soon the night was split with the sound of Josh’s screams.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Stoke Park, Buckinghamshire, full moon

  Weapons were scattered between the corpses on the floor of the hotel dining room, and Ben picked one up. A pistol. What kind, he didn’t know. He gripped it in his right hand, being careful to point the barrel at the floor.

  Melanie grabbed one too.

  ‘Do you know what to do with a gun?’ he asked.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘I’ve never used one before.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She aimed the weapon at the body of a dead wolf and pulled the trigger. The gun almost flew from her hand with the recoil, and the noise reverberated off the hard room’s surfaces. ‘Well, I have now,’ she said.

  ‘Why on earth did you do that?’

  ‘Just checking how it works.’

  ‘Well, be careful where you point it.’

  A great thunderclap came from outside the building, followed by a deep rumble. The sky glowed bright white, then red. The glass in the chandelier overhead tinkled as the whole room shook.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘An explosion. The camp must be under attack. Stay away from the windows.’

  He ducked down himself and crept across the room toward the next exit. Melanie was right behind him.

  ‘Sarah and James must still be inside the building somewhere,’ she whispered.

  ‘I think the doctor’s lab is this way.’ He listened carefully at the door, but couldn’t hear anything. ‘Ready?’

  Melanie raised her gun. ‘For anything.’

  He yanked the door handle and kicked the door open with his foot. The room beyond was another large dining area, this one converted into crude medical facilities. Low beds were lined against one wall, with medical apparatus stationed alongside each one. He took a good look up and down. The beds were all empty.

  ‘This must have been where they were treating the patients,’ said Melanie. ‘It looks like they all turned.’

  Ben nodded grimly. The floor was littered with the bodies of doctors and nurses. They lay in pools of blood, body parts missing, arms and legs ripped off. Dead soldiers and civilians were mixed in with the carnage, together with one or two dead wolves.

  He crept inside the room. A low growl greeted him from the nearby corner. An injured wolf lay sprawled on the floor, blood running from a wound in its side. It rose up onto its front legs as it saw him, its claws clacking on the hard floor. It snarled.

  Ben froze. The sheer size of the beast was horrific. Bigger than any dog he had ever seen, the creature’s body was taut with muscle and raw strength. It parted its jaws to reveal deadly canine teeth, and its eyes glowed bright in the semi-darkness, like yellow candles. Even in its injured state, it seemed to radiate hate and a lust for violence.

  Three shots rang out in quick succession, and the creature fell, the light in its eyes going out as it crumpled.

  Melanie put a hand on his shoulder. ‘You hesitated,’ she said, the gun in her hand. ‘If you wait for one of those things to attack, you’ll end up dead.’

  Ben shook himself together. She was absolutely right. Fear had frozen him, and if it hadn’t been for her, he might easily have been killed, even by a wounded creature. He had to do better than that next time. He was supposed to be protecting her. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t hesitate again.’

  He scanned the room for movement, but there were no other signs of life. There was plenty of noise though. In the camp outside, a full-scale battle was raging, with the sound of heavy machine gun fire, armoured vehicles on the move, and distant explosions. Wolf howls and sporadic gun shots still sounded from within the building itself.

  Melanie pushed past him toward the next door. ‘Come on. There’s no time to lose.’

  The door led into a corridor running along one side of the building. Through the windows on one side Ben could see the bright flashes of combat. In the darkness it was impossible to make any sense of what was happening out there, but it was clear that the camp had descended into anarchy. If there were wolves loose inside the fence, and perhaps more attacking from outside, then large-scale carnage was a certain outcome.

  ‘The doctor’s lab is just along here,’ said Melanie, leading the way down the corridor.

  A door ahead of them opened suddenly and a woman staggered through. She was elderly, with short grey hair, and wore a white nightdress. She stopped in the corridor when she saw Melanie and Ben. ‘I’m hurt,’ she said in a frail voice. ‘Please, I need your help.’

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Melanie, taking aim with her gun. ‘Don’t move a muscle!’

  The old woman lifted her arms cautiously in submission. ‘Put that down, dear. Don’t point that thing at me. You’re scaring me.’

  Ben laid a hand on Melanie’s arm. ‘What are you doing? Don’t point the gun at her. She’s just one of the patients. She hasn’t turned into a wolf.’

  ‘That’s right,’ the old woman said. ‘I’ll do you no harm.’ She b
egan to hobble down the corridor toward them.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Melanie again. She turned her head to Ben. ‘Can’t you see? Look at the blood on her.’

  He looked closer. The woman’s nightdress was spattered with red drops and her chin was bleeding. Her eyes were wild and glinted yellow. ‘I’m hurt! Please help me!’ she cried, stumbling closer. She was almost on top of Melanie already, her hands reaching out with long nails. Ben looked again. Her fingernails dripped with fresh blood.

  He raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The noise was deafening in the narrow corridor, and the strength of the recoil surprised him. But his aim was true. The old woman toppled forward with a desperate cry, clutching at her chest. She fell to the floor writhing, and Ben put a second bullet in her back. She lay still.

  He turned her limp body over with his foot. She was dead, but her eyes remained open, still glowing yellow in the dim interior. Her sharp teeth were on display, and the blood that covered her chin and nightdress had clearly leaked from her mouth.

  ‘Another patient,’ said Ben. ‘Not a wolf, but just as deadly. From now on, we treat everyone as an enemy, unless they can prove otherwise.’

  Melanie nodded and pointed to the next door along the corridor. The sign read, Doctor Helen Eastgate. She took up position next to it, her gun ready.

  Ben lifted his own gun in his right hand. With the other, he turned the handle and slowly pushed open the door.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Gatwick Airport, West Sussex, full moon

  The moon was rising now and Liz felt the full force of its tug. The voice in her head began to whisper, inviting her to embrace the change and leave her weak human form behind. She shut the voice out and focussed instead on the rooftop scene.

  ‘So, Constable Bailey, you finally arrived at the truth,’ said Major Hall. ‘I was wondering how long it would take you to get there. I was sure you would eventually, and I’ve been observing your progress with interest. But I must confess, that cat came as a complete surprise.’

  ‘You and your officers are all vampires,’ said Liz.