The outer gate mechanism was supposed to be operated by three men on each side, with chains and wheels that moved the heavy portal open and shut. They were designed to work together. Aiden couldn’t budge it on his own. But he didn’t have to. The metal framework reached all the way to the top. He could climb it easily.
Hand on the bar, lift up. Foot right there, push to the next level. He scaled the haphazard pipes and bars, not caring if they held or gave out under his weight.
Too many dead today, and all of their souls crushed him, pushing him back toward the ground. If he gave in, they’d bury him right here alongside them. Some leader he was, falling apart in his first real fight.
From the top of the gate, he had a clear view of the battlefield, which had thinned out considerably, a lot of the horde scattering to the winds. Bodies littered the ground, thick in all directions. Uneaten. Left to rot. But even though they weren’t eating their dead, converts were at least fighting each other again, finally acting normal. Or as normal as they could be.
They’d also turned hard on the dogs, having cornered the small group, who were fighting like hell but quickly losing ground. Aiden whistled as loudly as he could, waved his arms to get their attention. A howl answered him—low, distressed…and not from the dogs.
Aiden frowned, sweeping his gaze over the landscape. The dogs had orders not to separate. If some kamikaze idiot went off on his own, Aiden would have his hide. Movement close to the road. How did they get way out there? He squinted, making out a shape squirming on the ground behind some cover. Still alive, small.
He cupped his hands to his mouth, and howled back an inquiry.
That same reedy voice answered, weak, but a little louder.
The gate’s framework shook and rattled, almost knocking him off of the wall. Bryce was climbing up after him—fast and hard. “What the hell…?” He held out his hand, and Bryce grabbed on, hauling himself up and scanning the field with wild eyes. “Survivor,” Aiden said, somewhat baffled by Bryce’s sudden spring to life. “Over that—”
Bryce dropped over the edge of the wall.
“—way.”
As soon as he landed, Bryce was on his feet and sprinting furiously down the road, straight line, one-track thought process, right through the thickest cluster of converts. Bryce didn’t seem to give a shit, and Aiden turned his gaze farther, wondering. Daring to hope.
The shape in hiding slithered out into the open, close to the ground, crawling toward Haven.
Bryce roared.
The survivor howled back, stronger, more determined.
And Aiden’s heart beat double time. He knew that voice. He sagged in relief. “Back from the dead a second time. Should have known not to underestimate you, little bit.” He smiled. Shoot her, claw her, snatch her—she just kept getting right back up again. And Aiden was proud as hell. Bryce must have heard her. Look at him down there! Reaping a bloody path like there was no tomorrow. “You got this, bro. Go get your girl.” Aiden had himself some converts to slay.
But before he dropped down into the fight, he whistled three sharp trills.
The signal to rally.
66: Sinna
Sun, and earth, and dust, and monsters. I crawl through it, heart racing so fast, it’s a hum in my chest. I keep my eye on the top of Haven’s wall, that tall figure standing proud over the battlefield. He’s my guiding light.
He’s not Bryce. No, I can hear my savage coming for me, and his roar heartens me. The sound of converts dying fills me with hope. He’s coming. He’s coming.
And then he’s here, brutal and terrifying, sliding to the ground, and his arms are around me. I’m smothered by his weight, the crush of his embrace. I don’t care. He’s shaking as badly as I am, but he’s my lodestone, taking me, dragging me, carrying me north.
He hauls us up to our feet and sets me apart; no time for teary-eyed reunions, we have to fight. A broken machete in my hand. He takes point, clearing the path. I watch his back, take out the overflow, the ones he doesn’t see coming. We move slow, but we move, and converts fall left and right. We leave them in our wake. Dead or slightly alive, it doesn’t matter anymore.
A chorus of howls sounds our safe haven. The others on the north side, holding the line, waiting and fighting to bring us home. I look back up to the wall, but Aiden’s gone, down in the thick of it, and his voice is stronger than the rest. I hear the joy in it, the vitality and will to live, to fight.
Bryce hears it, too, and answers the same.
We meet somewhere in the middle, and Aiden grabs the back of my head, bumps his forehead to mine, then he sets me loose and I’m sandwiched between them. Not a single convert comes close enough to feel the edge of my blade.
Wolfen fight as a pack, they fight to protect, and I now know they never, ever give up.
I am one of them.
I am theirs, Bryce’s and Aiden’s.
And I belong.
~
There weren’t nearly as many converts, but the remaining ones were twice as vicious. Sinna couldn’t see much of anything around the brothers; they kept her moving north, always north. The press of bodies grew thicker as more of the gray sons of bitches crowded close. But they were mindless with rage, throwing themselves right into Aiden’s blade and Bryce’s claws.
And then suddenly, the three of them crossed some invisible line of demarcation, and the path was clear. People ran ahead, fast like the wind, never looking back. The tree line loomed, and then they were inside, converts in hot pursuit.
Sinna gaped at the mules standing ready, polished to a shine—just like the brothers’ had been before the wreck—big guns on top, ready to lay down cover fire. The front-runners were already on them, one at the wheel, one behind the gun, waiting to bring the others to safety.
Sinna didn’t know any of them, but she could have kissed them all. A shout rose up behind them.
“Go,” Aiden snapped, and Bryce turned back, shoving her into Aiden’s arms. She was picked up, tossed into a back seat, and the driver revved the engine.
Bryce and two others fought off the pursuing horde. Not enough to hold them all back, but then, the mules’ weapons started to fire, and the three Wolfen dropped to the ground, rushed back, each to a different car.
Sinna’s mule took off north at full speed, Bryce racing to catch up. The top gun person, a small, thin woman with skin like chocolate and dozens of braids tipped with sharp metal hooks, leaned down to reach for him. He took her hand, and she hauled him onto the truck bed.
“What’s the damage?” Aiden asked.
Sinna didn’t take her eyes off of Bryce who was breathing hard and pressing his hands to the glass from the other side. She heard the steering wheel squeak under some terrible force.
“Lost a few,” the driver said. From her glimpse of him earlier, Sinna remembered he only had one eye. “Dash is gone. Remmy and Trey… We lost Tessa. I had to knock Spencer out, or he would have followed her.”
“Christ,” Aiden whispered, and the awful weight of grief in his voice made Sinna shudder.
~
They drove hard for miles, leaving Haven and all of its converts in the dust, and didn’t stop until long after nightfall. Bryce jumped down at once and ran off somewhere. Sinna wasn’t worried; he’d be back. She was exhausted, half asleep already, but she shook it off and got out of the truck to help the others. The sky was bright with billions of stars and a big, shining full moon. To her tired eyes, it pulsed with light as the ground swayed underneath her. She pitched backwards, but Aiden steadied her.
“You okay, little bit?” He sounded as worn out as she felt, and when she turned to look at him, his eyes were bleak. No more smiles, no jokes, or dirty limericks.
Sinna nodded and put her arms around him.
Aiden briefly hugged her, but there was too much to do, and he set her away too soon. “Report, Kiera,” he said to the woman removing weapons from the back of their truck.
She didn’t look at him when she sa
id, “Didn’t see anything following us for miles. We should be in the clear. But I’d still send someone back to make sure.” A heavy gun slipped from her grasp, and she slammed her hands onto the truck angrily, pressed her lips together, but her chin still wobbled. “He pulled that thing off me, and it turned on him.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I c-couldn’t… I was too slow—”
Aiden swore, and hauled her into his arms, held her while she cried.
“Trey,” Morgan said. He’d driven them this far, steady and focused the whole time, but now, seeing Kiera and watching the others drag their feet, he swallowed hard. “Boy chased after that girl for months, and she kept putting him off.” He shook his head with a sigh. “Lost a lot of good people back there today. I hope to Christ it made a difference.”
Aiden had said they’d come fifty strong. Looking around, Sinna counted twenty-seven left, each face hard-set with sorrow. Helena wasn’t among them.
Three trucks down, a male who could only be Spencer, sat up, and five people immediately dropped what they were doing to go to him. He peered around, disoriented, said something Sinna couldn’t hear, then watched the gathered faces as the group spoke to him. Sinna saw the exact moment his heart shattered; his face pinched, eyes squeezed shut, then he tossed his head back and wailed his grief, his entire body shaking from the sheer force of it.
Tears stung Sinna’s eyes. She didn’t know what to do. The pack grieved for their loved ones the way she had Gerry and no one else since. People had come and gone from her life, but she hadn’t let herself get too close to any of them. It only hurt that much more when they were gone.
But Kiera, and Morgan, and Spencer, and all of them… The Wolfen who’d died in Haven had been their family. Whether they said it or not, whether they shed tears or kept them locked up, Sinna felt their grief, each and every one. And it was too much, too heavy. She couldn’t bear it all.
“Sinna.”
She spun around and threw herself into Bryce’s arms, grateful and relieved when they closed around her. He squeezed her so tightly, her bones ached, but she didn’t care. Too many lost today. She needed to feel his strength, to know he was still there; that they hadn’t lost each other, at least.
It was a quiet, somber group that sat down by the fires to share a meal. Bryce wouldn’t let Sinna out of arm’s reach, and she sat nestled against him, with Aiden right beside them. For a while, it felt good to have them together again.
But now that the battle was over, everyone wanted answers. They didn’t ask questions, just sat, watching the three of them, waiting for them to speak.
Sinna spoke first. “I’m sorry,” she said, “for everything you’ve suffered and for everyone you’ve lost. But I’m grateful to all of you, and to them. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
Bryce nuzzled her cheek. “Tell us what happened.”
She did. Everything she remembered, from the moment she’d gotten ambushed, to the moment Bryce had found her again.
And every last one of them listened. As much as she told them, Sinna saw on their faces they heard even more, connecting dots she didn’t even know about.
When she finished, Aiden took over, telling his own story, filling in Sinna’s blanks. He described the noise she’d heard and where it had come from, told them about Helena and what she’d done. It was only a side note in the bigger story of how advanced Haven’s converts had become. Aiden wanted his people to understand why they’d fought, and how important their victory had been—the speech of a leader, a strategist, and not what Sinna wanted to hear.
Bryce noticed. In hushed words meant just for her, he told her how they’d seen the mule crash, how they’d found Sinna missing and went looking for her. He described the underground labyrinth, and Helena’s stupid heavy rocket launcher.
He told her how Helena had split off to buy them time, and Sinna’s eyes welled with tears. “She didn’t want us to leave you behind,” he said. Then he told her how hard they’d looked for her, and how they’d emerged into Haven itself. “I lost you so many times today, and each time it felt like death. When the hive blew, I thought that was it. That she’d killed you, too.” His hand sought hers, and he intertwined their fingers. “Don’t leave me again,” he pleaded with a shudder. “I won’t survive it.”
Sinna turned in his arms and hugged him tightly, hiding her sobs and tears in the crook of his neck. Bryce held her while she cried herself out, made rumbling purrs in his chest to soothe her breaking heart. When she finally ran out of tears, weak and bone-weary, she looked back at the fire and whispered her last words to a fallen hero. “Good bye, Helena Koch, the Hellraiser. My friend.”
Abeyance
Start Recording…
What is this thing? Hello? Hellooooo…
Background noise.
Clatter.
“Case, can you stop playing around and give me a hand, here?”
Running footsteps.
Hey, Sin? What’s this—
End Recording.
Start Recording…
Hey, it’s working! How ‘bout that?
Ahem. Um, hi. Hello, this is Sinna. The date is November fourteenth, sixteenth year of the New Era. See, I wouldn’t have known that, if the kind Wolfen folk didn’t have these fancy-schmancy things called calendars.
I’ve been here for a couple of weeks now. It was pretty rough at first. The people who died in Haven had families here, mates and children. We couldn’t bring back their bodies, so they burned funeral pyres with some of their clothes, toys, and flowers, that sort of thing. Afterward, they shared a quiet meal, and Aiden told them all the story of what happened. I don’t think there was a dry eye left in the house.
Aiden sent teams back to recon Haven. This guy, Graham, and some others went out in shifts to sweep the area. They said what’s left of Haven and the hive is abandoned. No trace of converts left. It’s like they disappeared into thin air, but none of us believe they’re gone for good. Too many of them survived. They’ll be back one day. This time, we’ll be ready for them.
Background noise.
Chuckle.
You hear that? They’re flirting again.
“Will you shut up?”
“I’m trying to help you out here!”
“You’re babying me, stop it! I can do this on my own!”
“God, you’re stubborn! You’re gonna fall on your face, mark my words.”
“And then you’ll help me get back up.”
“You’re damn right I will! But I’ll laugh my ass off first. Is that what you want? Huh? Huh? Hey! Don’t throw that, don’t you da—damn it, Dez!”
Yeah, they’ve been at it for a while. Seems Aiden’s gone and got himself mated while no one was looking. Can’t say it’s sweet puppy-dog love, more like a crazy cat fight, but it seems to work for them, so who am I to judge?
Dez has her new leg, and Penny declared she’s finally well enough to try walking on it. So of course, Aiden has to be there every halting step, just in case she changes her mind, so he can carry her back to bed.
Giggle.
Pause.
Um…it wasn’t all doodly-hearts and bird songs for them. We had to tell Dez about Helena, and she didn’t take it too well. She was still in the infirmary, then. We told her all good things, about how much Helena had loved her, and how she’d never wanted to leave her behind, and how she’d come back to save her. We were all there for her—Bryce, Aiden, and I—and we wanted to make sure she was okay. From what Aiden had told me, Helena was probably the only person in the world who’d cared for Dez, and she never knew it.
I thought she’d cry, and we’d comfort her and let her know she wasn’t alone, but Dez isn’t like us. She got all stiff and quiet, and stared straight ahead while we talked. When we were done, she thanked us, and asked us to leave.
She didn’t know we could hear her crying from outside.
Aiden lasted about five seconds before he went right back in there.
I’m glad he
did.
Sigh…
It’s a strange place, this den. Almost like a whole nother world. So peaceful and pretty…I don’t know what to do with myself. I keep waiting for converts to start gathering again, to push north against us. I still have nightmares about it. I imagine them climbing the den walls and pouring in on a high tide. I see children screaming, people dying left and right, just like in the old days. Sometimes Wolfen fight back. Sometimes they even win. Sometimes, I’m right there alongside them, helping them push back the hordes. Those are the best.
But sometimes it’s even worse than all that, and I wake up screaming, but no sound comes out. Bryce doesn’t tell anyone. He keeps my secret and helps me pretend everything’s okay, because he’s been through much worse, and he knows, sooner or later, it will be okay.
I think I love that about him most, the way he never gives up on anyone, least of all me. I tell him he’s my rock, my heart. He always replies, “And you’re my soul.”
We’re safe. We’re home. And for the moment, at least, I don’t want to relive the past anymore. I want to dream, and play, and look forward to the future.
And you know what? That’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Sigma Nine, signing off.
End Recording.
Thank you for reading Wolfen!
If you’re hungry for more, check out the companion website, WolfenWideWeb.com, to learn about the history of Wolfen and Project Delta-Omega.
About The Author
Alianne is an avid lover of stories of all kinds. Having grown up with fairy tales in a place where it almost seemed they were real, it was no surprise when she began making up her own stories. She loves music, hiking, and archery, and won’t shy away from travel and zip lining. Alianne graduated with a business degree and when she’s not off in the land of fantasy, she lives in California.
Wolfen Page 58