Wolfen

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Wolfen Page 38

by Alianne Donnelly

Casey nodded against him.

  “Cool. Just keep holding on. I’ll get us out of here.” Somehow.

  A few yards farther on, the view opened up, and he could see where the tunnel was. He spotted Klaus not too far from there, and his fangs ached with a shot of renewed anger. Rather than fight with his people, the leader of Haven was hiding in his flimsy wooden enclosure. Outside, Haven was overwhelmed by converts, its people dying among the pathetic shacks they’d used for shelter. There was chaos and death, and so much fear, it made Aiden sick to his stomach. On the inside, the grass was green, and six armed men stood guard around their leader, guns trained on the fence in case of a breach, but they didn’t fire. There were too many people rife for killing beyond that magical bubble for converts to bother seeking out more. Until the screams died down and live prey ran out, Klaus and his commando troops were safe.

  But that wouldn’t last long, and Klaus knew it. Already he was moving out, guards holding tight formation around him like a living shield.

  “Move,” Casey whispered against Aiden’s shoulder. “Move…”

  Aiden growled and ran, keeping an eye on Klaus. The surest way off of a sinking ship was to follow the fleeing rats.

  Almost as soon as the commandos stepped out, converts attacked, overwhelming the stream of bullets and taking down three guards before they could reload.

  With half of them dead in seconds, the remaining three panicked, shouting at each other, dragging Klaus away from the danger zone.

  On the massive clock face that was Haven, the front gate was six o’clock, Aiden’s tunnel was two, and the cave, eight-thirty. The inner wall cut through the mini mountain to make a circle. With the battle raging on in the open center, the outer edges were fairly deserted. Once the troops had ducked out of sight, converts found easier prey to sink their fangs into, and the group made their escape.

  It took Aiden two whole minutes after the last gunman disappeared for him to reach the cave. He ran across the top and jumped down at its entrance, bracing Casey securely against him. Taking quick stock of his surroundings, he petted her hair. “How’re you doing, baby girl?”

  She thumped her little fist against his back. “Stop stopping!”

  “I’m not stopping!” he argued. “Listen.” He backed into the cave. Klaus and his men would likely be more focused on running forward than looking back. “We’re going underground for a bit.”

  Casey raised her head, her dark eyes big with fear. “Why?”

  “Because it’s the only way out. I think—”

  “No, we can’t! There’s no way out from there!” She was working herself into a panic.

  “Shh-shh, quiet. It’ll be okay—”

  “We can’t go in there! What if there are more of them!”

  Aiden covered her mouth, and squeezed her tighter. “Listen to me. I am a hell of a lot scarier than any monster we come across. They won’t hurt you; I won’t let them.” More promises? Because the last one worked out so well? “We can’t stay here, Casey.”

  She stared for a moment, but he could see in her eyes she knew there was no other choice. Her guardians had left her, and everyone else was either dead or dying. Aiden was all she had left, and when that sank in through her fear, Casey squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, hiding her face into the crook of his neck.

  “Good girl.” He patted her back. With a final check outside, Aiden headed deeper into the cave. “For the record, we stopped that time because of you. Just wanted to point that out.”

  She kicked his lower back, and Aiden grinned.

  Klaus and his men had taken wall torches, but two or three were still there to illuminate what was likely the sole reason Havenites weren’t caked in mud and dirt—a complex of nooks and chambers where water had seeped up from underneath to form pools. The deeper Aiden went, the hotter it became, and the fewer torch mounts appeared in walls. Aiden didn’t need them. Mist shifted and streamed out of stagnant areas toward the shadow of an opening. Aiden approached it with caution, turning sideways to shield Casey, in case something nasty waited for them in there. He could hear people running farther ahead, and he followed a safe distance back from them.

  “What are we doing?” one man said. “What the fuck are we doing!”

  “Shut up and keep going!” Aiden recognized that voice: the big black dude who’d brought them all in that first day. Frankie something.

  “What is wrong with all of you? Those are our people back there!”

  “You wanna go back and play hero? Be my guest.”

  “I…w-wait, what are you doing?”

  Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

  Casey flinched, and Aiden ducked down, senses on high alert.

  Silence.

  “Dissent will not be tolerated,” Klaus proclaimed. “Is that understood? Move out.”

  Down to two guards who now knew their boss didn’t give a flying fuck about either of them. How long before they decided to kill him themselves?

  Aiden followed at a steady pace, keeping well back. A fallen torch illuminated the guard they’d shot, and he stopped to search him. The others had taken his gun and his ammo, but they’d left behind a couple of knives and a machete. Aiden pulled a face at the blades; he hated close-quarter weapons.

  “Hey, Casey?”

  She squeezed him in answer.

  “Can you look at this for a second?” He held out a small knife, sheath still covering the blade. “I want you to take this. Can you do that?”

  Casey peeked out. The death grip on her doll didn’t loosen when she reached for the knife, and for a moment, she blinked at the two, debating the conundrum of which was more important. In the end, her white-knuckle hold loosened and she uncurled her fingers one by one. When the doll dropped, she stared at her empty palm in rising panic.

  To stave off the freak-out he could sense coming, Aiden pressed the knife’s handle into her hand and ordered, “Keep this with you always, got it? If I’m not around and someone or something comes near you, you cut them, and don’t stop cutting until they stop coming.”

  Her big brown eyes overflowed with tears. “My mommy’s dead,” she whispered.

  Aiden hugged her tight. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” Were it safe, he’d have taken the time to console her, but they were still too close to Haven, too much blood saturating the air. Aiden couldn’t risk it. With another quick squeeze, he resettled her against his side so he could keep an arm free. He stuffed her doll into his pocket, palmed the machete, and set out after Klaus again.

  Before long, the tunnel spewed him out into a massive cave with an opening like the doors of an airplane hangar. Klaus was already out, his guards scoping the area for a safe route.

  Keeping to the shadows, Aiden crept closer to listen.

  “Where to now?” the pale guard asked in a demanding tone. Not the way one spoke to a boss if he valued his neck.

  Klaus picked up on it, too, and drew his shoulders back. “It is not far from here. We are very close.”

  “Cut the shit, old man. Where’s the convoy?”

  “I will take you to it. We will be driving away from here in the comfort of a fully-fueled und stocked Humvee.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said to Jace, too. But you didn’t have any trouble gunning him down like a piece of meat. So I’m thinking you tell me right now, and I decide whether I still trust you at my back.” He pointed his gun at Klaus’ head.

  Yeah, that’s the proper incentive. Moron.

  “Drake, stand down,” Frankie ordered.

  “Shut up and move over there. Where is the convoy, old man?”

  Klaus raised his arms, but his smile said he wasn’t worried in the least. “How will you know if I lie?”

  “Come on, man, we can talk about this,” Frankie said. “Just put the gun down.” Even Aiden didn’t believe that.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Drake turned his head to spit the order at Frankie. He’d barely finished the sentence when a knife buried in his cranium.

  Aide
n tensed, squeezing the machete so tightly, the grip nearly warped in his hand. Klaus was so close, Aiden could taste his death. How easy it would be. Just one gun and an old man. Aiden could be on him in three strides if—

  “…and signal to every convert in a thousand mile radius? I don’t think so.”

  Frankie turned toward the new voice. It was distant, out of sight, but coming closer.

  “I’m fine, it’s just scratches. We need to keep moving.”

  The fucking witch!

  Klaus tapped Frank on the shoulder, gave a silent order, dispatching the assassin to retrieve their supplies from the fallen guard.

  Now, Aiden thought, seeing the perfect opportunity to put an end to all of this. Take him now!

  But no matter how much he wanted to strike the death blow, his feet wouldn’t move. Not with Casey in his arms. Klaus stood back like the fucking Caesar, waiting for Frankie to disarm the body so he wouldn’t have to lift a finger. A nasty look twisted his face, at the same time disgusted with the sight around him and somehow eager as he turned toward his daughter’s voice.

  Aiden gently pried Casey off of him and set her down in the shadows, close enough to the exit so she could run, but hidden from easy view. Her wide-eyed stare of betrayal cut him to the quick, but he wasn’t leaving her forever.

  Curling her fingers tighter around the knife with his own, Aiden held her gaze so she’d remember what he told her. Then he placed a finger to his lips for silence and winked, hoping she’d trust him enough to stay put until he returned.

  Chewing her lip to stop her chin from trembling, Casey nodded.

  Aiden pushed to his feet, and faced the mouth of the cave.

  Klaus and his man were gone.

  Didn’t matter. Aiden had the perfect weapon now, and he wasn’t hesitant to use it.

  He bared his teeth and called up the beast.

  39: Desiree

  Facial lacerations bleed like a bitch. Too many tiny vesicles too close to the surface. A minor scratch can expose enough blood to the air to call converts from miles away. Arik’s right; I need to take care of this. But it’s too late now. The damage is done, and it’s not just on my face. There is blood pooling in the socket of my prosthesis, making it slick, and I worry it’ll slip off completely.

  I can’t make myself stop long enough to address it. Like a chicken with its head cut off, I keep walking to put more distance between myself and Haven. I don’t even care where I’m going. I’m out in the open for the first time in more years than I care to count, and the sudden emergence into vast, open space is making me a little crazy.

  Okay, a lot crazy.

  You try escaping from that kind of death trap and see what it does to you.

  ~

  “Seriously, Dez, you need to stop.” Arik grabbed her arm, pulling her off balance, but he kept a firm hold and steadied her until she could stand on her own. Then he kept hold to stop her from going any farther. “Sit down,” he said.

  Desiree couldn’t catch her breath, eyes open so wide, she had to blink faster to keep them moist. Like a massive case of fear-induced hypersensitivity, she wanted to look everywhere at the same time, but couldn’t register the sights around her. Her ears picked up on every little rustle of wind through dry grass, but none of the sounds made any sense. Arik had to repeat himself three times before she caught onto what he wanted, and even then she had to force herself to comply.

  Her ass met hard rock as he sat her down, not bothering with the artificial knee pin. He rummaged through the pack and pulled out a canteen. “Drink,” he said.

  Desiree took it, shocked by how badly her hands shook. She couldn’t take more than one sip without spilling.

  Meanwhile, Arik tore off a piece of bandage roll to use as gauze. Then he looked at it and the small bottle of ethyl alcohol in his hands, and gave the lot to her. “Here, you do it.”

  “A mirror would help.”

  “You’re not putting on makeup. Just swab…” He gestured in a vague circle around his face. “Everywhere you can reach.”

  In deference to her clumsiness, he doused the gauze and let her clean up her face. The scratches stung when she passed over them, and she counted six regions, all small enough to barely stain the gauze red. But they were still open wounds. The cut on her neck was worse and required another ball of bandage. By the time she’d finished, she felt calmer, more in control. “There. Better?”

  “Pretty as a sunrise,” Arik replied dryly, and packed everything back up. With a sigh, he sat on his haunches and looked around. “So, which way do we go?”

  “Where are we?” Now that the adrenaline had worn off again, her thigh was starting to throb. While they were resting, she pulled up her pant leg to survey the damage in the light of day.

  Arik was too busy gauging their location to notice her wince. “I’d say we’re about seven miles east of Haven. You think you can find those… What the fuck, Dez?”

  The rim of her socket was stained dark with blood. Apparently, pushing it farther up her stump had been a mistake; all she’d done was pinch the wound open. Sure, the tight fit kept it from bleeding too much for the moment, but as soon as she undid the straps, everything would reopen.

  “You need to do something about that.”

  “No.” She shoved her pant leg down. “I need you to help me get to the car.” With this much blood, it would require stitches, and there was no way to keep things sterile out here. She needed a semi-controlled environment, a fire to disinfect her tools, and time to concentrate on the task without the fear of being hunted by converts. “We’re about eight miles away. I can make it that far.”

  Arik shook his head.

  “Come on! The faster we get out of here the safer we’ll be. Now help me up!”

  Still not happy, Arik shouldered the pack and pulled her up. “I don’t like this,” he said.

  Desiree leaned on him with her weight on her good leg and pointed to where they needed to go. “Yeah, I’m not exactly jumping for joy, either. But look on the bright side.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re still alive.”

  A massive force suddenly slammed into them from the back and bore them to the ground. Desiree fought to catch her breath, as Arik grunted and rolled away, taking the foreign weight with him. She squinted through the dust, and caught sight of a knife.

  “Jesus.” That son of a whore, Frank! She pushed up, searching for anything to use as a weapon. Bastard was not going to screw her over a second time!

  Her prosthesis caught on something and she went down again. Desiree turned over, right into the path of Klaus’ knuckles. The blow turned her the other way, and then Klaus was on top of her, hands wrapped around her throat. “Verfluchte Hure!”

  Against Klaus’ maniacal fervor, her pathetic efforts were less than useless. She clawed at his face but only managed to dislodge his glasses while he screamed at her in German, eyes bulging. He raised her up by her throat, and slammed her down again. The back of her head struck hard ground, dazed her, but Desiree wasn’t ready to offer her last breath for Klaus’ satisfaction.

  Her vision was whiting out at the edges. Not much time left…

  Wake up! Fucking do something! Don’t you dare let him win!

  Desiree dug her thumb into Klaus’ eye. He shrieked and released her throat to get her off, but with his knee still on her chest, he kept her pinned and away from his face as he sat up. She gasped for breath, tried to get her bearings, to call for Arik, but the world spun too fast for her to find an anchor.

  Klaus grabbed her face, fingers digging into her jaw. Blood streamed down his cheek, the remnants of his eye hanging over his lower eyelid, and if Desiree could scream, she would have. No sight on Earth was more terrifying to her than her father’s demonic visage snarling, “Eye for an eye, mein Liebchen.”

  Desiree flinched sideways, and froze.

  Wrong.

  There was something more terrifying than Klaus.

  And it was st
anding right behind him.

  Klaus’ hand hovered over her face, and Desiree couldn’t even close her eyes to protect them. Not while that monster stood there, staring at them both.

  All of the notes and descriptions in the world couldn’t have prepared Desiree for the sight of a fully turned, pissed off Wolfen male. It stood massive; over a foot taller than before with distended muscles. Its face was a grotesque meld of man and beast—nose flattened, mouth extended into a muzzle filled with killer fangs.

  When it struck, it happened so fast, Desiree’s mind barely registered it—one second, Klaus’ finger was touching the corner of her eye; the next, he was flying through the air to land in the dust ten yards away.

  Her sudden release rent a scream from her throat, and she pushed herself up to sit, but her flight response ended there. Desiree couldn’t move another inch, too caught up in the horror of the Wolfen toying with Klaus, tossing him around like an orca with a baby seal. Klaus sailed through the air, landed hard a distance away, only to be snatched up and thrown again. Each time Klaus fell, he moved a little less, responded a little slower, screamed a little weaker.

  He sailed high one last time, then dropped a few yards away from Desiree, crumpled like a rag doll. The Wolfen took its time retrieving him. It reached down with a giant hand tipped with razor-sharp black claws, grasped the old man by the throat, and lifted him easily, dangling him in the air.

  Klaus was still alive, feet kicking weakly, mouth working, trying to take in more air.

  The Wolfen gripped Klaus’ left arm and squeezed. Bones snapped. Klaus screamed, and kept on screaming as the arm slowly detached from his body.

  Desiree moaned and slapped a hand over her mouth, stomach clenching as the Wolfen removed Klaus’ other arm and carelessly tossed it aside. With the amputation finished, it brought Klaus in so close, their noses almost touched, and squeezed Klaus’ throat, snarling the entire time as if it enjoyed watching his life drain out of that one remaining eye.

  Then it snorted a kind of animal scoff and dropped the body next to her. Klaus’ head lolled, still attached by what remained of his spinal column. When his sightless eye settled on her, Desiree screamed.

 

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