Wolfen

by Alianne Donnelly

  “I’m sorry, Dave. I have to go. I need to find Bryce.” Sinna ducked around him, and her hurried footsteps echoed down the stable corridor.

  “…always liked you,” David finished with a dejected sigh. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself on his way out the other side. “What did you think would happen…”

  Helena dropped down from the rafters, landing right next to Bryce. How the hell long had she been up there? She shook her head. “I told Sarge it wouldn’t work,” she said.

  That’s what she wanted to talk about, right after David’s pathetic attempt at a declaration?

  At his incredulous look, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I knew. I know everything that goes on around here. Sadly, ‘General Hellraiser’ is just an honorary title. I have no say in how things are run and Sarge is…well, you saw. He doesn’t always think things through.”

  Bryce snarled, pushed out of the stall to get away from her. He didn’t get far. Most of the dispersing crowd were filing back through the stables, forcing him aside yet again, only this time, all anyone talked about was how Sinna had saved the archer from drowning.

  Helena situated herself next to him where he couldn’t escape, and watched the crowd go by, smiling as if they were doing it for her personal enjoyment. “I like her,” she said. “She reminds me of Desiree; all caring and motherly. The world needs more people like that.”

  “You should prepare yourself,” Bryce told her. “People change, especially when they have no other choice. Your sister might not be the same person you remember.”

  “Yeah. But she’ll be alive. That’s all that matters.” When the last of the gaggle had passed, Helena slapped Bryce on the shoulder, perking up. “Now come on,” she said. “You gotta see this.” And she ran off, still talking. Bryce rolled his eyes and followed, mentally preparing for whatever crazy stunt she had up her sleeve this time. “I couldn’t believe when Jason showed me. It’s a total relic, but how cool would it be to shoot one!”

  Who was Jason again?

  “And he said we can take it with us. I can’t wait! It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. Ka-chow!” Helena veered off at the front gate, swerving around the people putting their supplies together, and ducked into the armory.

  The scent of fire and burning metal seared Bryce’s nostrils, and made him sneeze the second he entered. His eyes watered from the heat of the forge, disorienting him. “Helena!”

  “Over here,” she called, and Bryce followed her voice to a leather flap that served as a door.

  On the other side stood a cottage like any other in Hopetown except the roof had gaps big enough to let in plenty of light. There were several crates stacked to one side, stamped with old military marking. Helena pried the top off of one and dug through the hay that served as padding. She took out a round thing and tossed it to him, followed by three more, so fast, he almost dropped them. Baffled, he stared down at the items, trying to connect the dots. Hand grenades. “Do they still work?”

  “Oh, those? They’re kid stuff. I’m just taking a couple in case we get bored. They’re not really good for much else; not enough pow, you know? But this, this is the real deal.” Helena leaned into the crate, burying her arms shoulder-deep in hay. She dragged out a heavy, green metal cylinder with a trombone-like opening on one end and a taper on the other. She grabbed the handle, braced it against her shoulder, and sighted down the barrel’s length. Then she held it up, turning it this way and that, modeling it for him, before she broke down into giggles, bouncing on her toes like a little kid on Christmas morning.

  “We have a rocket launcher!”

  51: Aiden

  Damn it, girl. When something hurts, you tell someone!

  I gun the engine as hard as it can take, stopping only when I see an abandoned car nearby, and only long enough to siphon what I can out of the gas tank. I’m pushing it, risking the little Beetle falling apart on me, but I don’t have a choice.

  Desiree has been unconscious for hours, burning to the touch, and not even the meds she’d helpfully sorted into doses are bringing the fever down. Casey is freaking out next to me, watching me with wide, trusting eyes. She knows something’s very wrong, but she expects me to know how to fix it.

  Only, I don’t.

  I don’t know what Desiree’s meds are supposed to do. I don’t know if I should up her dosage, or if that will make things worse. The best I can do is force fluids down her throat. And I don’t even know what that will do—if anything.

  But I do know others with a hell of a lot more knowledge and training than I have. They’re only a few hours away. If I can keep Desiree alive that long, I know they can make it better.

  I just have to keep her alive that long.

  ~

  They passed a rusted blue sign welcoming drivers to Montana, and Aiden forced his hands to unclench from the steering wheel. It was warped enough already. “Almost there.” He checked the rearview mirror.

  Desiree was out cold, curled up beneath the mountain of clothes and blankets he’d piled on top of her.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Casey asked.

  Aiden didn’t know what to tell her, so he pushed the engine harder instead.

  The scenery changed from plains to forests, back to plains again, and then mountains. The national park was one of the most hospitable places around.

  The den itself lay nestled in a lush valley, totally cut off from the rest of the world. Aiden knew the area like the back of his hand. He knew which roads to take, where his people maintained them for a safer ride. He knew the turnoff, which looked like a service road but soon opened up into a path wide enough and smooth enough to allow a tank through.

  He laid on the horn to signal to the sentinels he was coming, and watched the trees for movement, hoping to see a familiar face.

  The woods opened out into a vast meadow usually a high traffic area for deer and bears. Today, it was deserted. A tall concrete wall rose up on the far end like a blemish on the face of Nature, and Aiden had never been so glad to see it.

  Still standing, strong and pristine, just the way he’d left it weeks ago. Guards at the top signaled to each other, and by the time Aiden had reached the gate, it was wide open for him. Two dozen men and women armed with guns and crude weapons lined the path, in case trouble came their way.

  Aiden gunned it inside, then slammed on the brakes, skidding across the dirt. Cheers rose up when he got out of the car, and just as quickly died when people saw who else he had with him.

  “Graham!” he barked, yanking the back door open so hard, it broke off.

  He pulled the covers off of Desiree, shocked by how pale she was, so tiny on the already small back seat, barely breathing. He didn’t bother to look at the tall, brown-haired second-in-command as he carefully took her out. “Get the med lab prepped, and find me a healer,” he ordered.

  “Is that a human?”

  “Move!” Aiden snapped. “And find Bryce.”

  Graham motioned for some others to follow the orders and tailed Aiden into the polished, bright-white complex. Just like the mule, the med lab was covered in photovoltaic paint, which generated so much electricity they didn’t know what to do with it. Every cottage had appliances, every Wolfen in residence had a computer. They even had a server hub, kept cool underground, creating a mini Wolfen Wide Web.

  Inside the complex, fluorescent lights illuminated pristine corridors. Labs and offices, classrooms, and testing halls had been repurposed into exercise gyms. The medical center was far enough away to serve as a quarantine area, if necessary, but close enough to be accessible to all. Aiden loped the last few yards to an exam room, and laid Desiree onto a gurney, switching every light on.

  “Uh, good to have you back,” Graham said, rubbing the back of his head. “Who’s she?”

  Aiden rummaged through the drawers and cabinets, and finally found a heated blanket. He shook it out, plugged it in, and laid it over Desiree. “Where’s the healer?” Aiden demanded.

  “On
her way,” Graham replied. “Did you tell me to find Bryce earlier?”

  Aiden pried one of Desiree’s eyes open and swore, clicking the blanket up to high heat.

  Light, running footsteps approached. “What the hell is going on?” the healer demanded. She pushed past Graham and into the room. Psi Six was one of their best—a pretty brunette who preferred to be called Penelope. She was tall and lithe the way supermodels used to be, but her no-nonsense attitude and quick mind made her an indispensable asset. She grinned wide when she saw Aiden. “You’re back!”

  “I brought you a patient.”

  That quickly, Penny was all business. She shooed a baffled Graham from the room, tied her long hair back, and washed her hands. “Talk to me.”

  “She has a pretty deep cut on her right thigh. It got infected on the way. I tried to clean it as best I could, but she’s got a fever and won’t wake up.”

  Penny pushed the blanket aside, and hesitated. “Where’s the rest of her leg?”

  “Don’t ask, just fix her.”

  Aiden had cut off the right pant leg to get a better look at the wound earlier. Desiree’s stump was now exposed but for the thin bandage he’d wrapped around it. Penny leaned close to get a whiff. “It’s infected, all right,” she confirmed. “I also smell chemicals. What did you give her?”

  “I have no damn clue. She’s sort of a scientist, too. When I found her a bunch of pharmaceuticals, she set up her own medication regiment. I just repeated what she did.”

  “Get them for me,” she said.

  “Right.” Aiden ran back to the car.

  Casey still sat in the passenger seat, frozen, staring at the people outside. They were keeping their distance, trying to look casual and non-threatening, but they watched her intently, and it was making her nervous.

  “Aiden, I need to talk to you, man.”

  “Graham,” Aiden said, as he gathered pill bottles from the back seat floor, “this is Casey. She’s ten years old, and you’re all freaking her out. Casey, this is Graham. He’s a good friend of mine who knows I’ll break his face if he lets anything happen to you. Can you stay with him while I take care of Dez?”

  Casey looked at Graham, eyes locked on the tribal wolf tattoo on the side of his neck.

  “Hey, Casey,” Graham said, with a weak-ass smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Casey’s eyes shifted back to Aiden. “I wanna go with you.”

  “I’ll just be a minute, I promise. Dez is really sick and needs help right now. Can you be a brave girl for a bit until I get her settled?”

  Wide-eyed, Casey hesitated, but then nodded, clutching her knife to her chest as she climbed out of the car. She went up to Graham, looked far up into his face and said, “If you hurt me, I will cut you. Aiden said I could.”

  Aiden grinned at that. “Why don’t you show her around?” he suggested to Graham. “Get her something to eat, too. We haven’t found much on the road.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll do that, but I really need to talk to you!” He shouted the last as Aiden ran off to the exam room.

  Penny had removed Desiree’s bandage and was cutting away the stitches Desiree had so painstakingly put in. “This is decent work,” she praised. “Did you do it?”

  “She did it herself,” Aiden said proudly.

  Penny hummed thoughtfully. “So I see you decided to adopt her.”

  He scowled. “Not exactly.”

  “Really? Then why do I smell you all over her?”

  “Long story, and I really don’t have time to tell it. Will you just fix her?”

  Penny paused at the last stitch and looked up, one eyebrow arched almost comically high. “You don’t have time to talk?”

  He snarled. “Here, these are the meds she took.”

  Penny removed the final stitch, set her implements aside, and took the bottles from him. “These are way old,” she said. “I didn’t even know they existed anymore.”

  Aiden shrugged. “We got lucky.”

  “Well, there’s nothing here that could harm her.” She sniffed the contents, frowned, and sniffed them again. “But they’re pretty degraded. In her condition, she needs at least ten times this dose.”

  Aiden fidgeted, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “So what do we do?”

  “Well, the most practical option would be to put her down.”

  Aiden growled, hackles rising.

  Penny noticed. “But seeing as that’s not an option, I suppose we try to fix her.”

  “Okay, how do we do that?”

  “We don’t. I need room to work, and you need to get out of here and deal with whatever’s going on outside—shoo.”

  Reluctantly, Aiden dragged himself back out to the courtyard. The gate was secure once again, and the techs were checking every dial and gauge of the Beetle like bloodhounds. He had no doubt the entire thing would be taken apart and recycled by the end of the day.

  Those who weren’t busy going about their chores, and those who’d stopped their chores to watch the show, surrounded him to offer greetings and welcome him home. Aiden smiled and soaked up the affection, letting his people soothe his frazzled nerves. He returned each hug and playful shove, ruffled the little ones’ hair, and shook hands with the guards. Their presence alone made him happy to be back. Aiden had grown up with these people, fought with them, bled with them; he’d watched them suffer, and helped put them back together. They’d built this place up from the horror it used to be into something amazing.

  This was his family. And goddamn, but he’d missed them all.

  In seconds flat, they had him at a table filled with food—platters of meats and cheeses, a bowl of fruit, jugs of water and mead, and honey cakes piled high and smelling sweet. But he couldn’t relax until he saw Casey at the kids table, stuffing her face. She grinned, waved happily, surrounded by boys and girls her own age who peppered her with questions. Yes-or-no questions, because her mouth was full and she couldn’t manage more than a wordless nod or head shake. Wolfen were nice that way.

  Aiden got the grown-up version of the same. Most of his people wanted to know where he’d been, what he’d brought back, and what the hell his T-shirt was about. Only when Graham declared they had official business to go over did they reluctantly scatter. But Aiden knew they’d be back eventually; they wouldn’t rest until they got the full story out of him.

  Once they’d cleared the benches, Graham sat down, his handsome face worried. When he asked “What happened?” he didn’t want to hear tall tales like the others. He wanted facts. And his steady gaze said he wanted them for a reason.

  At least he’d waited until Aiden was done eating.

  Aiden swigged his mead and sat back, content. “You won’t believe when I tell you.”

  “Okay, let’s start simple. Where’s Bryce?”

  A cold, hard weight crushed the good vibe he almost managed to get going. He stared at Graham, trying to figure out what the punch line was, but the man didn’t even blink. “What do you mean, where’s Bryce?”

  52: Desiree

  My eyes are broken. They don’t work right. I try to open them, but they won’t, and when they do, nothing makes sense. Light flashes so bright, I can’t stand to look at it. Everything tilts and swirls—things I know should stand still are floating in the air, warped around each other like chips of a fun house mirror.

  I’m flying.

  I fall. But I never hit the bottom.

  The kaleidoscope of entropy flings me around by the tail, and I can’t make myself stand still.

  My flesh burns. Liquid fire sears my veins from the inside. But my skin is freezing. I feel my teeth chatter, and clench them so hard it hurts. The broken sobs are mine. I know that. But they seem so far away, as if I’m not me anymore, as if I’m outside of myself, listening to my body writhe in agony. Claws rip into my leg, deep enough to scrape bone. The convert leader is gnawing at me, licking into my wound, and his drool is pure acid.

  I thrash, desperate to throw him off
. I can’t move, can’t breathe. I’m dying, but not without a fight. I scream to hear my own voice, to convince myself it’s not over yet, that I still have breath left in my body. That the thing attached to my leg is not a demon, and the heat cooking me alive is not hellfire. I scream as loud as I can, a feat worthy of shattered chandeliers.

  The hoarse groan that makes it past my dry, bleeding lips is beyond pathetic.

  “Please,” I gasp, “please…”

  The convert’s fangs sink deeper.

  The agony steals my breath away. I flail my arms, try to drag myself away. Can’t focus. Don’t know where I am. There’s desert, a long stretch of pristine roadway snaking into eternity, and in the next instant, I’m in a lab with electric lights and polished metal instruments. I twist to my side, and the edge of a gurney is right there. Beyond it, an impossible drop. Two feet—no, two hundred. It’ll kill me either way.

  Better a fall, than a monster.

  Restraints snap like whips onto my wrists, dragging me back down. “Dez, stop!”

  I can’t. I don’t know how. I arch so far up, my weight rests on the crown of my head, and I can feel the breaking point. Just a little farther, and it’ll be all over. I reach for it, but I’m denied. A massive weight across my chest flattens me down. I’m held immobile until I’m too tired to fight anymore. I lie still and keep time by the beat of my heart. It pumps so fast at first, and then slows… slows… I breathe, because I remember I should, not because I need air. My vision goes dark, and I let myself sink into the soft embrace of a half-sleep.

  I don’t feel pain anymore. I float euphoric in a black sea of numbness for so long, it feels eternal, and I think, I can almost take this. After a lifetime of torment, if this endless, limitless nothing is my Beyond, I’ll be all right. I’m relieved. Grateful. Nothing can’t hurt me.