Homecoming

by Heath Stallcup

“If they are smuggling boats, more than you’d think,” Rufus replied. He rounded the corner at the base of the stairs and chanced a glance down the hallway. Men in civilian clothing and automatic weapons fired randomly down the hallway. He looked to Paul and shook his head. He pulled Paul close, “I won’t risk using the weapon on them in human form.”

  “The ones outside shifted. I saw them before the chopper tried to turn us to swiss cheese.”

  Rufus motioned toward the door and the two men darted across the short opening and toward the front doors. “If you see a wolf, point him out to me.” Rufus shifted the weapon on his shoulder and moved to the front again.

  “Oh, you can count on that.” Paul slid back in behind his brother and allowed him to be a shield. “You can bet those bastards are using silver bullets.”

  “Oui, you can feel it in the air.” Rufus stifled a cough as he moved closer to what used to be the front doors. He kicked at the shattered timbers and moved them out of his way. Stepping over the remains of door frames, he stepped out to the stone steps and swept the area with the weapon. Nothing.

  The pair worked their way down the length of the house, following the sound of battle and rounded the corner to see wolves and other supernatural creatures slashing and dashing, swooping and clashing. The battle raged furiously as he leveled the weapon and took aim.

  Paul rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Aren’t you afraid you might hit some of our own wolves?”

  Rufus shook his head. “Acceptable losses.”

  “Hey!” Pedro yelled as he turned toward the pair of vampires. “Is that the doo-hickey that Doc…” Rufus spun and aimed the device at Pedro. Gonzales saw the movement and dove to the side just as Rufus squeezed the trigger.

  The ensuing blast lit the night sky and paused the fighting for only a moment as all eyes turned to the corner of the house. The second story veranda creaked as it teetered and fell at the site, collapsing at the corner. Pedro got to his feet and ran to where the pair of vampires had been standing. There was a large blackened crater filled with pieces of the second story deck and bits of stone debris. “Son of a…” A bullet whizzed by grabbing his attention once more. “Time to end this…”

  *****

  Sheridan slipped in behind the wheel of the van and drove it closer to the hangar. He sat in the front seat and watched as his men would slowly approach the stairwell entrance and set up on either side of the steel doors. One would snap the door open and another toss a grenade inside just before the door was slammed shut. The men waited for the flash bang to report then throw open the door and mow down any unlucky soul close enough to take a bullet. Sheridan laughed with the giddy glee of a school girl, beating on the dash and steering wheel as he watched his people slice the squads to ribbons.

  Something caught his men’s attention as they turned to the side, their weapons brought to bear. He soon realized that the lift doors had opened. Surely nobody was foolhardy enough to try to storm the upper level by elevator? He watched as his men slowly advanced on the lift car.

  The men closest turned to the others and shrugged. Apparently the lift was empty. Sheridan shook his head, unable to comprehend what the purpose of…then he watched in horror as the men closest to the lift doors erupted in bloody gunfire. Shreds of meat and blood flew outward and downward, their bodies falling to the floor. The other men hit the floor or dove for cover.

  The moment the firing began, the steel doors flew open and security forces flowed out, running and diving for cover of their own. Then the ceilings of the lifts fell out and men poured from the lift cars. Sheridan screamed into his coms. He barked orders to the wolves in the hangar but most fired recklessly from cover, their rounds hitting far above their targets.

  “No!” he screamed as he slammed against the steering wheel. “They’ve got people in the hangar now!” He clenched his jaw so tightly that he could feel his molars crack. “Use the flash bangs! Disorient them!”

  Before his men could react, the floor began to vibrate and the middle of the hangar floor actually split in half and lifted up and away. A large black pickup with a machine gun in the back rose from the floor like a phoenix from the ashes. From his vantage point, Sheridan could see two very large men inside the vehicle as it rose higher into the hangar. “Take them out! Don’t let them get away!”

  The weapon in the back of the truck came to life and began moving, targeting individuals. Short bursts from the .30 caliber machine gun shredded flesh and bone, sending sprays of blood against the metal barricades they used to protect themselves from the small arms of the men on the other side of the hangar. Sheridan felt his guts tighten into a knot as he watched his troops being sliced down before his eyes. “Get out of there! Get out now! Shift if you have to, but get out!” his voice screamed so loudly into the coms that he was hoarse before he was done.

  He watched as the squad members, emboldened by the reinforcement of the assault vehicle began pouring from their own hiding places and advancing on his men. Man after man shifted and made for an exit. One jumped onto the hood of the large black truck and tried to tackle the motorized machine gun. He wrapped his large, hair covered arms over the hot barrel and lifted, unable to render it from the mount in the back. The operator inside the vehicle moved the weapon again, trying to shake the new attacker and the wolf braced one arm against the weapon’s base, another against the barrel and pushed with all of his might, bending the barrel just slightly. The wolf then leapt from the back of the truck and made for the large double doors and the parking lot where Sheridan was now backing out of.

  When Little John aimed the cross hairs of the targeting screen on a fleeing wolf and pulled the trigger on the joystick, the machine gun in the back of the truck destroyed itself. Bullets jammed in the barrel and the backpressure destroyed the receiver. He slumped his shoulders and turned to Spalding. “I think I broke it.”

  “I think the wolf broke it,” Spalding corrected.

  “Maybe we could run them down? Put a wolf-shaped splatter on the front bumper?” John offered.

  Spanky shook his head. “Unless Doc put a silver bumper on this thing, it wouldn’t do much good.”

  The two men watched as their ground forces advanced, trying to take out as many of the fleeing wolves as they could. Those who were wounded or dying fought to the bitter end. Some dragged useless rear legs as they tried to bite or tear into the humans they had been sent to destroy.

  Tufo pushed his way to the front of the crowd, putting silver bullets into the heads of anything he ran across. “Spread out. Make sure they’re all truly dead.”

  He came across a pair of bloody wolves, their mangled bodies still smoking and he placed the barrel of his pistol to the head of one and squeezed the trigger. As he lifted the pistol to put down the other wolf for good, he noticed the slide locked back. He ejected his magazine and slid another home, racking a round as he did so. He straightened his arm, taking aim on the second wolf when a large hairy arm grasped his wrist and lifted the weapon up and away the bullet ricocheting off the girders.

  “Live one!” Mark yelled as he struggled to pull his second pistol. The wolf pulled him down to face level, the smell of blood and bodily fluids strong as it growled directly into his face. Spittle mixed with blood splattered his face as he tried to wrestle his second pistol from its holster.

  The wolf rolled to the side, taking him with it and pinning him underneath its massive body. Mark struggled with his pinned arm, but it was like trying to pull an appendage from a vice. He could feel the bones of his wrist being crushed as the wolf stretched his arm further away. He distinctly heard the clatter of his FiveseveN hitting the concrete floor of the hangar as the beast loomed over him. Rounds exploded over and around him and he heard someone scream to ‘Hold fire’, ‘Don’t hit the XO’.

  Tufo tried to get a knee up and between the beast and himself, but it sunk into the ruined remains of the beast’s abdomen. He felt the hot blood of the monster soaking into his uniform pants an
d down his thigh as he pushed harder to lift the creature from his body. “Get off me you son of a bitch!”

  The beast roared one long loud scream in his face, blood and spittle flying into his eyes and nose before it dragged a clawed hand across his torso from neck to navel.

  Mark’s eyes shot wide as the most intense pain he had ever felt shot through his body. He swore he felt the bastard’s fingers shred through his intestines as it dragged across his body and his throat tightened to the point he couldn’t suck in air. He lost all strength in his upper body and couldn’t push back against the beast as it pressed against him.

  He didn’t hear the point blank gunshot that splattered the wolf’s brains across the floor next to him.

  He didn’t even notice as his troops pushed the beast to the side and they circled him.

  He heard somebody scream for a medic.

  He suddenly felt very tired.

  So sleepy.

  God, it was cold on that floor…

  The growing voice in horror

  and speculative fiction.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemistry. Heath then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff's Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to five and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit him at heathstallcup.com or Facebook.com for news of his upcoming releases.