Nefarious Heroes: Malevolent Prisoners Book Two

by Eddie Jakes

  Jared opened his mouth to respond, but something penetrated her senses; the scent of werewolves was drifting in from upstairs.

  "You guys need to see this. Quick," shouted Tara, from the top of the passageway.

  Being surrounded and hunted by werewolves was starting to become a trend with Maddix and crew. There were dozens of them stepping out of the trees and approaching the cabin in twos and threes. After a few steps, they would start to howl, and more would dash into the area and do the same. It was an eerie howl that made the hairs stand up on the back of everyone's neck.

  "Damn," Javier muttered, "that is like nails on a chalkboard."

  "It is a hunting cry," said Tanya, from behind everyone. "The howling is a signal to the others that there is large prey, and I suspect that large prey is me."

  "Why so many? I thought you handled these kinds of things one-on-one," Tara inquired.

  "That is our way. I don't understand any of this."

  Tara stood next to the window by Maddix and took in the scenery. The number of werewolves collecting around the cabin was turning into a multi-colored blanket of fur over the clearing. Tara pointed to a pair of monsters breaking up the crowd.

  "That one look familiar to you?"

  "It does," said Maddix. "But that's not possible."

  He could barely believe what he was seeing, but there was William in all his wolfish glory. His stride was powerful yet graceful, and the other wolves stepped away from his path like Moses, parting the Red Sea.

  The stench of William ignited Tanya's temper, and she walked to the window and zeroed him. Something about him was strange, and her keen sense of smell reacted differently than normal.

  "It looks like him, and it smells like him, but …" Tanya froze.

  "What is it?" Javier questioned.

  "Something is just wrong about him."

  "It can't be him," asserted Maddix. "I killed him. He was dead."

  "We will find out soon enough," growled Tanya.

  Maddix watched her eyes turn yellow, and her fangs drop from her mouth. This was a bad move, and he knew it.

  "Tanya," pleaded Maddix, "don't do it!"

  Javier walked up from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders. She relaxed her body, and her features began to return to normal.

  "If you go out there, they will overtake you, and you'll be dead."

  "We'll all be dead soon, anyway," stated Tara.

  "Maybe not," interrupted Shepard. "Everyone get down into the hideout."

  "We'll be trapped down there," said Tanya.

  "No, we won't. Trust me."

  "Just go," said Tara. "We don't have enough ammo to fight our way out of this. I trust him."

  The four of them shuffled down the passage with Shepard taking up the rear. The last thing Maddix heard was the clanking of the entry hatch followed by the three metallic clicks. He had regrouped with the others when he heard a loud bang come from the entry followed by the stench of sulfur. A puff of smoke floated in, and Shepard strolled in behind it.

  Tara glanced over her shoulder. "What the fuck was that?"

  "Emergency flash weld. Seals up the hatch so that nobody can enter. Or leave for that matter."

  "So we are trapped down here?" asked Maddix.

  "No, there is another way out, but that doesn't matter. What's important is that this place is built in such a way so that when sealed, no werewolf or vampire could sniff us out. It'll be like we just disappeared."

  "He's right," Tanya stated, sniffing the air. "I can't smell any of them, but I hear something above us. If I didn't already know there was an army of my brood above us, I wouldn't be able to distinguish it."

  "Exactly," said Shepard. "And neither will they. Just use your indoor voices and we'll be fine."

  Like mice in a cage, thought Krazek.

  The cabin looked pleasant enough with all the amenities that one could ask for when living off the land. It was not the kind of life that Krazek preferred, however. His lifestyle was one of prestige and power, with a towering view as far as the eye could see. It was a life that had long been taken from him that he would soon have again, and he was not going to let a few pesky remnants of a failed prison get in the way.

  The army of werewolves collected in the clearing all focused on the structure. You didn't have to be one of them to notice that there was an air of confusion and doubt amongst them. They didn't understand this new philosophy of war that Krazek was commanding. He wondered to himself if any of them were on to his ruse. Would those doubters dare try and challenge him? He was not scared of werewolves in the least. They were inferior to his power on any level. Brute force was nothing compared to the dark arts.

  While he sized up the cabin, Jurgen approached from the rear and took a position at Krazek's side. It would be necessary to keep him near to maintain this illusion. One thing that Krazek hadn't considered was the inability to duplicate a werewolf's refined senses, so Jurgen's would have to suffice. Since it wasn't uncommon for him to be by William's side, it wouldn't cause any alarm to the others.

  "They are in there," said Jurgen, "but the scent is getting weaker. They must have been in the middle of dinner because I smell food cooking."

  "Well, that certainly was rude of them not to invite us in to join them. We're old friends, after all."

  Saying nothing, Jurgen just shook his snout in frustration. The situation was weighing on him, and he apparently didn't share in the wizard’s humor.

  "My friend," said Krazek, "you really must learn to lighten up."

  The two sauntered into the crowd of growling wolves, and Jurgen howled for their attention. The hush that followed spread quickly as all eyes were on them.

  "Listen to me! I want you to bring down hellfire on them. I don't want a single one of them to still be breathing when you are finished. Am I clear?"

  There was a pause with some discussion amongst the pack.

  "What about Tanya? Shall we bring her to you, Lord, so that you can kill her yourself?" an indeterminable voice shouted.

  "I want everyone dead! You find her, you rip her apart. You outnumber her. Don't waste time thinking about it, just do what I command!"

  "Do what William says," interrupted Jurgen. "Dissension will be dealt with by me!"

  Krazek was almost impressed with the whelp. Almost.

  "Destroy that place, now!"

  The pack didn't spend another second thinking about it before they all began leaping through windows, and breaking down doors. Barely five seconds passed before the entire cabin was filled with ravaging wolves searching for any target they could find. Space was cramped, and a few yelps of pain could be heard from teeth biting into friendly targets. The frame of the small house couldn't take the pounding for long, and the entire roof began to collapse on top of the mass of vicious beasts.

  The scene was extremely amusing to Krazek. It was like one of those funny films he had watched after leaving the prison. He recalled them being referred to as "slap-stick" or something like it. Whatever it was, it was a delight to see, albeit disappointing when realizing the sum of mankind’s advancements amounted to cheap entertainment.

  Dozens of paws broke through the top of the rubble and werewolves started to pour out from various openings. They were all covered in debris, but no one appeared to have suffered any injury that he and Jurgen could tell. Not that Krazek gave a damn about them to begin with.

  "Well? Are they dead?" asked Jurgen.

  Voices began to talk over each other, and it was impossible to understand what they were saying. Krazek shouted at them be quiet and pointed at a lone wolf with a white coat that had been one of the first to dig herself out.

  "You! Speak!"

  "There wasn't anybody here," she said. "I can still smell them, but it's like they all vanished into thin air."

  "That's impossible. The bastards are either hiding or escaping somehow. Keep looking, I want that mess cleared ’til we can be sure that Benbrook and his bunch are dead!"

&n
bsp; The collapsed remains of the cabin were removed almost as quickly as they were brought down. The only thing that remained was the dirt foundation underneath, and the smoldering remains of a wood stove. Jurgen leapt into the center and sniffed around, looking for any signs of their prey, but came up with nothing. They were gone somehow, and there were no indicators to track where they went.

  "I definitely heard a faint crash," reassured Tanya.

  "Damn," Shepard mumbled, "I really liked that cabin."

  The rest of the group kept quiet and tried to make out whatever it was that Tanya could hear. Her superior hearing left them at a disadvantage, however. It left the question remaining whether it was possible for the trampling army of werewolves to hear them as well. Leaving the wolves in a state of confusion would be advantageous to the mission they would have to undertake. Assuming that Shepard was telling the truth about being able to leave this underground "war room" as it appeared to be.

  Maddix addressed his concerns in whispers to Tanya.

  "I wouldn't worry. I have always been able to focus my senses in ways most other of my kind cannot."

  "Most?"

  "Well, that is to say, I haven't met another who could. Even still, my kinfolk would need to know where to focus toward. If Jared is telling the truth about this place, they will not be able to pick up that we are down here."

  "Jared?" asked Tara.

  "Long story," said Shepard. "There's no time for it now. What is your next move?"

  Everything was moving so fast for Maddix, that he could barely think anymore. Back in the prison, everything seemed to be at a standstill so there was more time to evaluate and plan each moment of his life. It was a depressing thought that being locked up in a magical prison with bloodthirsty monsters was something he once considered the simple life.

  "First, everyone should grab themselves a gun and load up."

  Maddix didn't have to say it twice; Javier and Tara grabbed small weapons and enough ammo that they could conveniently conceal in their clothing. Grabbing an extra pistol, Javier held it out for Tanya to take.

  "No," scoffed Tanya. "Those are for cowards afraid to get blood on their hands."

  "Maybe so," Maddix replied, "but as much as I would like to engage in honorable fisticuffs with our enemies I don't think we would have the advantage. Plus, not everyone out there is as noble as you are."

  Tanya grinned. "Then I will die more virtuous than the average killer."

  Maddix smiled and turned to Tara. She was taking practice aims at the wall trying to steady her hand. When she couldn't quite get her grip to stop shaking, she dropped her hands to her sides and took a deep breath before trying again. Her stature improved, but there was still some unease in her posture.

  "Maybe you should stay here."

  "No," snapped Tara, taking aim one last time. "I'm feeling better, and I'm sick of waiting behind. We're partners, remember?"

  She was right, he needed her to keep him centered. Especially with all the chaos in his brain as of late.

  "Then it's settled." Maddix smiled. "Shepard? How do we get out of here?"

  Shepard sauntered over to the rear of the room and depressed the lock for the upper left drawer of the desk. The whole back of the room began to open backward until an opening big enough for a person to walk through revealed a tunnel behind it. They could see several small light fixtures lit up the path downward.

  "It's a little bit of a walk, but it comes out near the town. It's well hidden so you won't be spotted. It's an abandoned ravine that nobody cares about anymore. From there you're on your own."

  "Isn't that how it always is, monsieur?" joked Javier.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The loading docks at night were creepy but during the daytime, they weren't as bad. Craig lit himself another cigarette and took a drag while watching the workers load the latest batch of product into the truck.

  Keep the money moving. He was tired of being the lowly carrier in the operation, but it did pay decent enough for him to support his own bad habits. He never touched the stuff that Ketter made, he was more into herbs and powders. Quick and fast or slow and mellow was his preferred ride. Whatever it was that Ephrain's product did to people, just didn't sit well with him. Why fuck with what God intended? That was his look on it.

  After shoving the last of the crates into the truck, the driver gave the thumbs up to leave. Craig waved the okay and released a bit puff of smoke out the side of his mouth.

  "Mr. Jerico?"

  The voice caused Craig to choke on his cigarette like a first timer. He recognized the voice from the few phone conversations he'd had.

  "Mr. Stillwel? Jeez, man, I almost shit myself."

  "Unpleasant, I'm sure."

  The sound of his voice grated on Craig's nerves. It was so slow and proper. The man never made a single grammatical error when he spoke, and if there was one thing Craig hated it was overtly polite, pompous jackasses.

  "I suppose you're here about the special delivery you guys wanted?"

  "Quite right," said Stillwel, with his hands clasped behind him.

  "Well, you can tell your boss, Mr. Stackovny—"

  "Master Statsny."

  "Huh?"

  "Master Havel Statsny. My employer."

  "Yeah, whatever. You can say that everything's good. I got the trucks lined up personally."

  "Splendid," said Stillwel, while pulling out a fat envelope. "The arranged payment is here, along with a bonus for continued efficiency."

  Snatching the envelope, Craig peered at the crisp bills inside.

  "Thanks, Mr. Stillwel. Everything will be ready to go at midnight tonight."

  "I would expect no less. Is Mr. Ketter available?"

  "Nah," Craig replied, finishing his cigarette and lighting another. "Haven't seen him since this morning at the lab."

  "No matter. I have other pressing engagements. If you see Mr. Ketter, please ask him to contact Dr. Himmelreich as soon as possible. Good day, sir."

  Craig watched as Stillwel walked away. Even the way the man walked irked him. It was so perfect, like everything else the man did. In all his years in the game dealing with the shadiest scum in the business, these people got to him the most.

  "Hey!" shouted Craig. "What's so special about this stuff that you're willing to pay so much money for a few refrigerated trucks and no paper trail?"

  The man stopped for a few seconds before turning his head to the right.

  "Let's just say that my employers have a rare medical condition that requires special treatment, and leave it at that, shall we?"

  Each step had to be perfect.

  There wasn't any standard operating procedure for what Ephrain was trying to do. The chemicals he was working with were new and so far tests always ended in death. His only hope that his theory was correct in that his body was capable of handling the massive genetic restructuring. If it worked, he would be whole again and possibly more indestructible than he thought had been before being shot. The incident with his throat was proof that it was possible to permanently harm him. To kill him even.

  If it worked, the next step was obvious. Future test subjects would have to be submitted to regular exposure to chemistry as Ephrain had done to himself almost two centuries ago by traditional calendar time. Once they were all at the stage of invulnerability, he could begin to introduce the new compound and begin to create the foot soldiers he and Himmelreich had talked about.

  The doctor had said it was for the good of their cause, but Ephrain wasn't stupid. The doctor didn't trust the vampires any more than he did and to have some kind of defense should they decide to double cross was a no-brainer. It would even the playing field or tip the scales in their favor if executed properly.

  Behind him were the small moans of his spinal fluid farms. Why he kept them alive at this point was beyond him. The last of the fluid was collected and would be ready for shipping soon. After that, he would begin to dispose of them one-by-one. The empty look in their eyes
conveyed to him that they had already died inside and were all just waiting for the body to follow.

  Ephrain's timer began to buzz, notifying him that his formula was ready. Its standard black color seemed more gray this time, due to some minor tweaks that he'd added to make it easier to bond with his unique chemistry. The consistency was still the same, and that was enough for him to take the chance. It was time.

  Grabbing a syringe from the table, he loaded one of the tubes into it. He placed the needled on his vein but stopped when a whimper from this morning’s catch distracted him.

  Her eyes were open, and some tears managed to fall from her eyes, despite the degradation of her body. She had spirit—Ephrain would give her that much credit—but there was no time for conversation with the girl.

  Bottom's up, thought Ephrain, and he raised the needle to his guests hanging on the wall. With that, he stuck the needle into his vein and quickly pushed the plunger with his thumb.

  The pain came quickly as he could literally feel every molecule in the formula bond to his DNA and begin the process. All attempts to scream resulted in nothing but raspy grunts and rapid breathing. The chemistry reached his extremities and Ephrain could no longer stand and the last thing he could hear was the sound of the young woman’s faint scream.

  The entire length of the tunnel was barely lit, probably to make it harder to spot from a distance. The lights that did illuminate the way worked on some kind of motion sensor, and as the four of them moved farther way, the lights would shut off, and new ones would appear in front of them. Maddix found it to be rather well thought out and praised the Founding Fathers for thinking about anything and everything.

  With any luck, they would be able to meet them soon and find out an answer to their questions. Assuming that the entire organization hadn't been entirely taken over as Maddix was led to believe.

  He glanced at his friends, and they all looked like they had been through hell. Each of them wore dirty clothing and appeared as if they hadn't slept in a long time. They had been sleeping every night, but the dreams and flashbacks tended to drain one of energy. They needed a break to recuperate somehow. Something that wouldn't take up too much time.