Alan nodded, nervously. The man sure didn’t look like a doctor.
Kaley smiled and set the huge briefcase in a chair, opening it in such a way that Alan could not see the contents.
“Kaley is going to give you an injection.” He smiled. “Don’t be concerned, it’s to help with your condition. If you have any foreign matter in your blood, this will counter-act it,” he lied.
“You mean it can save me from…from…”
Deluth nodded. “It’s been known to do just that.”
“Who are you? I mean, who are you guys, really?” Alan asked.
“I promise you, son, that I am Captain Pierre Deluth of the special branch of the RCMP. And I promise you that this is Doctor Dane Kaley, of the same. We are here to help. Nothing more.”
Alan nodded just as he noticed the scar on Kaley’s face. He watched, nervously, as Kaley stuck the syringe into Alan’s I.V. He saw the scars on Kaley’s hand and cringed. Kaley noticed, and smiled at him.
“Desert Storm, 1991. I was a combat medic back then, before I finished college.”
“Oh,” Alan said, simply.
“The face, too,” Kaley lied once more. “Shrapnel hit me when I was riding on top of a M1 tank. I was an idiot.”
Deluth chuckled. Alan noticed, and frowned at him.
“Oh, I was just holding back a comment about the doctor’s confession that he had been an idiot.”
“At ease, Captain,” Kaley said, smiling. He removed the syringe and walked back to the briefcase.
Alan heard a clicking noise and then saw Kaley pulling something long and heavy from within. He began to lose focus. He squinted, trying to discern what Kaley held. Are those…chains? He wanted to protest—to cry out—but before he could, the world around him began to spin. Alan felt good, now. Really good, and was no longer worried about the chains. The room spun faster, and then stopped—and phased slowly to black.
The chains were very small in comparison to others with a tinsel strength of 40,000lbs. Most chains capable of withstanding that much weight were made from links half an inch thick and a loop size of three inches in diameter—yet the links of this chain were just over an eight of an inch thick, and the loop size was less than an inch. Twenty feet of this special chain amounted to only a few pounds, whereas a common steel chain would have weighed a hundred or more.
Kaley placed special cuffs around Alan’s wrists and feet, and unwrapped a wide Kevlar belt for the young man’s waist. As he carefully looped the chains around Alan’s body and through the cuffs and waistband, he said aloud, “He can’t turn yet. Not until the next full moon, you know. He’s a newbie, for sure.”
Deluth nodded. “I know, but I don’t think we need to take any chances, do you? It’s been seven years since our last encounter, and the only one before that was another seven years. It’s not like we can be absolutely sure of anything. The one thing that we do know for certain is that no two of them are the same—they are different in their strength, their stamina, their survivability, their intelligence…” He paused. “Wait a minute…don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”
Kaley chuckled as he struggled to roll Alan over on his side. “Nah. Just sayin.”
“Hurry up, would you, doctor,” Deluth said. “We need to get moving.”
“Almost done.”
Deluth left the room to talk with Snow. He was pleased to find him outside the door, not having run away to his commanders to complain and moan about what was happening. Deluth didn’t give Snow a chance to start asking questions. “Follow me,” he ordered.
Snow obliged, and as Deluth led him down the corridor, he said, “Alright lieutenant. In a minute, Kaley is going to roll Alan Tucker out of the room. You are going to notice that the boy is chained from head to toe. There is a reason for that.” He stopped outside a room near the nurse’s station. “Here we are,” he said, stepping inside and tugging at a gurney. “This is what we need.”
“He’s chained?” Snow asked.
“And unconscious,” Deluth answered, swinging the gurney out into the hallway. “He’s chained and unconscious, and that is because I have no doubt at all that the man is infected. Now, he should not have the capability to change form until the next full moon, but that is an uncertainty. Of course, he can’t change at all until after dark, for reasons we do not know, so he cannot be a threat at all until then.”
“Wait,” Snow said, placing a hand firmly on Deluth’s right arm.
Deluth looked down at the arm, frowning, but stopped and did not voice any objection.
“When you say change and when you say full moon—am I to take it that you are talking about him changing into a werewolf? Are you crazy? Are you all crazy?”
Deluth didn’t answer, as he knew that Snow had more to say.
“You are actually telling me that werewolves are real, aren’t you? You are saying to me, ‘Snow, Lon Chaney wasn’t just a guy in a bad costume.’ You are saying, ‘people transform into monsters…it’s real, and we are the monster squad.’ That is what you are saying to me right now?”
Deluth waited a moment longer, and, seeing that Snow was finished, he said, “That’s it almost exactly, lieutenant.”
Snow threw his hands up and shook his head. “That’s it? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“No, lieutenant, it’s not. But now that we are past that part, perhaps I can continue to speak without worrying that you will begin to rant and rave?”
Snow shut his mouth. He spun around in place, looking down the hall toward the elevators, then looking back at Deluth. He turned toward the elevators, then back again. He opened his mouth to say something, his finger pointed at Deluth, but he closed his mouth and turned back toward the elevator.
Deluth chuckled. “You aren’t going anywhere, lieutenant. You are going to stay with me and you are going to obey my orders until this situation is satisfactorily taken care of.”
Snow sighed.
“Look, lieutenant, I promised you all the answers within one hour. I’d say I have about forty minutes left. I am still promising that you will get the full story. Right now, let’s get this gurney to Kaley, and I will tell you more as we go along.”
Snow nodded.
“I am so glad to see that you are a man of few words, lieutenant. I hope you remain that way. The last person that I had to work with like this—I mean that the last person I had to force to cooperate, he would not shut up. He even fainted a couple of times.” He chuckled and rolled the gurney toward Alan’s room.
After a moment, Deluth turned back toward Snow. “See?” he said, obviously referring to the fact that Snow still remained silent.
They entered the room to find Kaley holding a radio. “Huth and Sorret have everything ready. The van is outside, the wing is clear, and there is no media on site.” He paused, “Yet.”
“Well, then, we need to move quickly,” Deluth replied.
“Don’t just stand there, Snow Eagle,” Kaley said. “Help me get this guy onto the gurney.”
Snow nodded and did as asked. It was all so surreal, and yet undeniable. Snow was now a willing member of a team of monster hunters.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Thomas looked over Delmar’s shoulder and studied the cave’s opening and the tracks leading into it. Timber and boulders were piled waist high at the entrance, but the debris would not prevent anyone from entering.
Delmar looked back at Thomas, who was pointing a finger at the trail of tracks. “He’s in there,” Thomas said. “No tracks leading out.” Thomas thought for a moment, appraising the possibilities. “He’s got the upper hand in there. He could hold us off with just a pistol if we climb up to that opening.”
Delmar shook his head. “No—not necessarily. We can move to opposite sides of the entrance. One of us provides covering fire for the other, and it won’t be long before we’ve either shot the bastard or made it into the cave. If we get inside, his advantage lessens.”
The more Thomas thought about
it, the more he didn’t like it. The man was obviously inside—the tracks didn’t lie, but Delmar’s assessment seemed to be one of desperation. Their first inclination in any other situation like this would be to win by attrition. Starve the bastard out or wait long enough for ordinance to fire mortars or shells inside—maybe throw in a satchel charge if nothing else. But they were desperate, Thomas knew. He also knew when to put his faith in his friend’s leadership, and felt that this was one of those times.
“I will come in from this direction,” Delmar said, pointing toward the cave. “You maneuver around to the other side and find a high point looking in. The man cannot possibly defend both sides of that opening. One of us will get a shot.”
“About that…”
“I’ll try not to kill the bastard,” Delmar said, speaking just loud enough for his voice to penetrate the gusting wind. He’d anticipated Thomas’s question. “I know we need answers from the bastard.” He grimaced. “Who would know that better than I would?”
Thomas nodded. “If we can get to him, wounded or not, I have the tranquilizers. I took them from the cabin.”
Delmar nodded. “You’ll need to stick him?”
“Yeah. I don’t have the right weapon to fire the damned things.” Thomas took one more look up at the gray skies. The weather was changing again, moving more toward whiteout conditions. Who knew how long it would be before this part of the mountain would once again be clear enough for rescue aircraft.
“I’ll let you get near your position first,” Delmar said as he blew mucus from each nostril. Snot rockets, the big man liked to call them. He wiped his nose on the wrist of the Gore-Tex sleeve. “It’ll take you longer.”
“You will have to hold onto Jack, then.” Jack had not taken any interest in the cave, but if he were released, he might run straight for it, giving away their presence. “There’s nowhere to tie him and I can’t let him loose until we know if Alastair is in there or not.” He paused. “All you have to do is walk straight to the opening—but I have to navigate above and around it. Can’t do it with Jack on my belt.”
Without answering, Delmar reached down and unhooked the D-ring from Thomas’s belt. “I’ll let him go if things get ugly or if I think he’s in danger.” He leaned over and gave the snow-covered dog a quick pat on the head. “You’ll be fine with me boy—better off with me than your master, there. You’ve always known that, though, right boy?” He smiled up at Thomas, who seemed unconvinced. “He’ll be fine, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded, then stuck out a hand toward his friend.
Delmar looked down at the outstretched hand and frowned. “No need to get mushy, Hero,” he said. Nevertheless, he took Thomas’s hand—but instead of shaking it, he grasped it and yanked Thomas into a quick bear hug. “We’ll do this for Daniel—and for Jenny and Steve.”
“And for God knows how many others that bastard has murdered,” Thomas said.
Delmar let go and swatted Thomas on the back and then shoved him away. “Go, now.”
Thomas slowly worked his way above and around to the opposite side of the opening. He positioned himself about ten feet up the slope, so that he was looking down into the cave’s entrance. He could not see far into the cave, but believed it was huge. Perhaps larger than the cavern where Daniel was attacked. While he could not see much more than shadowy shapes inside the cavern, he was sure about one thing they would certainly find if they entered. The smell of rotting and mummified flesh wafted from the cave as wind was driven inside and then whipped around to exit once more. He looked over to Delmar, who had begun moving closer to the position on his side of the cave. Thomas pinched his nose and pointed into the cave when he saw that he had his friend’s attention—then made a gesture as if he were about to be sick.
Delmar nodded as he cautiously approached his side of the entrance, Jack in tow. Twenty minutes had passed and by now, they were both anxious. Delmar caught Thomas’s eye, nodded once, then threw a large rock into the cave. Both men readied themselves. After a few moments and after risking glances into the cavern, Delmar threw an even larger boulder inside.
Nothing. No sounds or other indications of movement.
Thomas frowned. Alastair would likely realize that if he remained deep in the cavern he would have a better chance at hitting the men if they entered. Thomas shook his head in frustration. It made no sense. If Alastair were inside, he would be crazy to allow either of the men to actually make it into the cave. Not that the Scot had shown himself to be the role model for intelligence—but even so, the man had a cleverness about him, and he would have to be nuts to allow them to get inside. Then it dawned on him. What if...
Delmar muttered, “Once more into the breach,” then noisily rolled and jumped into the cavern’s entrance dragging Jack along with him.
What if Alastair was not in the cavern at all…and never had been? Thomas finished the thought—too late to prevent his friend from dropping inside the cavern.
“Damnit!” Thomas muttered. His friend had just committed a bone headed and careless move—and yet Thomas could not leave him alone inside the cavern if there were the slightest chance that Alastair did lay in wait. Thomas kicked rocks aside as he scrambled to hop down into the cave’s entrance. Delmar had maneuvered himself deep into the cavern by then, and Thomas silently cursed his friend. The big man had once again acted rashly—something that he never did in combat situations of the past. There was only one way for men to overtake an enemy that was entrenched or was inside a bunker, (when they had nothing but rifles and pistols to kill with), and that was to get inside and outfight them. Unless, of course, the bunker was not bunker, but a cavern, and the enemy was not inside, but was outside—hidden and waiting with a high-powered rifle. That enemy could easily cover the entire entrance and that enemy would not fire on the men until they were trapped.
“Jesus, God, almighty.” Thomas heard his friend utter the words just as the smell of the cave hit full-force.
He ignored it. “Delmar! He’s not in here! For Christ’s sake…he’s lured us in here!”
The big man turned around at hearing the words. As if on cue, the cavern wall behind Delmar exploded in a splatter of sand and stone, and a rifle shot cracked from somewhere outside.
Alastair had walked up and into the cavern, carefully—then backed out in his own footprints until he was able leap onto some rocks on the hill-like wall that led to the cavern. He had left no visible trail, and had then flanked the entrance, moving in a huge arch until he found a small cluster of trees that gave him cover. The spot was perfect, providing him with an unfettered view of the cavern’s entrance.
He felt that his plan was flawless. Get Thomas and Delmar into a no-way-out scenario, (the way out being the entrance, which Alastair could have protected against a dozen men), and then kill them. If the men were too damned stubborn to try to make it out, then Alastair simply needed to keep them in place until nightfall.
He smiled to himself. He was Leonidas and the Spartans all rolled into one…while Delmar and Thomas were Xerxes’s doomed troops. The cavern’s entrance was the equivalent of the ‘Hot Gates’ of Thermopylae. Alastair chuckled to himself. He was the great warrior, Leonidas. Alastair failed to recall, however, that, as great as Leonidas and the Spartans were…they were killed at Thermopylae merely delaying the inevitable destruction rained down by Xerxes.
“I’m Leonidas,” He shouted gleefully.
Delmar and Thomas both heard that shout. The wind had been just right, carrying Alastair’s declaration to the cavern.
Thomas sighed. “He lured us in. He wanted us here and we are damned fools.”
Delmar frowned, “Leonidas?”
“Thermopylae,” Thomas muttered. “He’s comparing this to Thermopylae…and he isn’t that crazy for it.”
Delmar chuckled, as if there were nothing at all to worry about. “Didn’t Leonidas get his ass handed to him?”
Thomas let out another sigh as he reached down to unhook the D-ring from Delmar�
��s belt. “Yes…but that isn’t the point. Character names aside, the reference is a good one. He has us in here, confined between the walls of the entrance with no cover and no way to spread out if we decide to make a run for it—while he needs to do nothing more than sit and wait.” He paused, then decided to ask his question. “Jesus…why did you jump down inside here?”
Delmar shrugged. “I was convinced the bastard was hiding in here.”
“We didn’t agree to jump in to search the damned thing. We agreed to remain outside and draw him from his hiding place IF he were here.”
“The tracks…”
“The tracks mean exactly nothing, now, don’t they?” Thomas snapped. “We were fine so long as we remain out there where we had room to maneuver.” He pointed. “In here we are ducks.”
“We’re Xerxes,” Delmar said, almost cheerfully. “And Xerxes kicks the shit out of Leonidas.
Thomas shook his head and cursed.
“I’m sorry,” Delmar finally said. “I’m not exactly myself right now, you know.”
Thomas shrugged. It was true. Delmar was far from himself, and Thomas had failed to take that into account when following the man.
“You boys comfortable in there?” The wind carried Alastair’s voice into the cavern.
Thomas lowered his head and muttered more curses under his breath.
“If you come out…unarmed…I’ll let you go. I just want you unarmed so that you aren’t a danger to me. Leave your weapons and gear in the cave and I will let you live. I’ll destroy the guns and take your gear and you can just walk away.”
“Ignore the bastard,” Delmar said.
“No shit, really?” Thomas answered, unable to quell his anger.
Jack sniffed, his snout held high. He whimpered.
Thomas turned to take a good look at the cavern—the odor coming from deeper within was damnable. The sickly sweet smell was not new to the men, though. Their time in the military had afforded him several opportunities to become familiar with it. The moment Thomas saw the cause of the horrid odor, a lump of bile rose to the back of his throat.
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