The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8)

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The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill Book 8) Page 61

by Rick Gualtieri


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  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a few strokes of the keyboard.

  Okay, fine, that was lame. But hopefully I saved anything good I had to say for the story itself. I mean, heck, nobody reads these author note things anyway, right?

  So anyway, here we are at the end of the Tome of Bill. And what a ride it’s been. I can only hope this novel gave you that final thrill in this multi-book roller coaster I’ve attempted to build.

  I likewise hope that you found the ending to be satisfactory. Mind you, that isn’t to say you had to like it. Let’s be honest, there was no way I was wrapping this up without at least a few people cursing me out under their breath (or aloud, or via email, or showing up at my front door). However, my goal was to answer some burning questions and end things in a way that’s fitting. At the very least, I tried my damnedest to avoid a Battlestar Galactica or Quantum Leap type ending that leaves you shaking your fist at the sky while screaming “What the ever-living fuck was that?!”

  With any luck I succeeded. Regardless of whether I landed this plane safely or drove it into the side of a mountain with all hands aboard, though, I had a hell of a time flying it and an even better time conversing with all the wonderful people I’ve met during the journey.

  This has truly been a game changer for me in so many ways and I am humbled if I have been able to entertain you.

  As for the, possibly, burning question of “will we ever visit this strange world of Bill’s again?” Quite possibly. I think there are still plenty of stories here left to tell, albeit in what form they will take I cannot say for the moment.

  Until then, I have plenty more tales left in me that need telling. I hope you’ll stick around for the ride.

  Rick G.

  SNEAK PREVIEW

  Tamara “Bent” Bentley has a unique problem. Her mother is a witch and her father a werewolf. Even she isn’t sure what that makes her. She’s only certain of one thing: there are those who believe she shouldn’t exist and will stop at nothing to...

  GET BENT!

  “C’mon, Bent! We’ve got to keep moving!”

  Moving? Was she crazy? I was lucky to still be breathing. It had been years since I’d missed taking my meds. So stupid of me. Got caught up in the fun and hadn’t been thinking.

  Now, with that thing after us I ... I...

  I fell to my knees and puked my guts out all over the forest floor as yet another cramp wracked my midsection. The pain caused me to curl up into a fetal position while the stench from my sick left me dry heaving. Lucky me. Two for the price of one.

  Even in the throes of my misery, I heard the sound of branches snapping underfoot. Whatever was after us wasn’t even trying to be stealthy anymore. It had probably sensed my weakness, knew I was easy prey.

  “Oh shit! It’s getting closer.” Panic colored the edge of Riva’s voice. She was trying to keep it together but only doing a so-so job at best.

  “Run.” The words were barely audible as pain continued to eat away at my gut.

  “I need to get you to a hospital.”

  “No ... hospital ... if we’re both ... dead ... only morgue.” Yep, that’s me. A ray of sunshine in the middle of a shit storm.

  I needed to convince Riva she had to leave me and find help. I was done for. Even if we weren’t being chased by a goddamned grizzly bear, I began to suspect it had been too long. I’d been taking my medication religiously ever since I was barely out of training pants. I’d been late with my dosage before and paid the price, but it had never been this bad.

  My body began to convulse and I cried out in agony. It was a challenge to not bite my own tongue in half as I tried to hold it together long enough to tell my oldest friend, “Go ... please.”

  Even if it was too late for me, she could still make it – get to the police. They could find my remains, hunt down whatever was stalking us. At least that way my family could have some closure.

  With any luck, they’d throw me a beautiful funeral. Yeah, with tulips. I always liked those.

  There came a snarl, terrifyingly close from the sound of it. That was no bear. Not a dog either, unless it was the size of a moose. What the hell? I cracked my eyes open and tried to force them to focus.

  Still unable to do much more than grip my stomach as my innards churned, I saw Riva. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she was staring at something past where I lay. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “You need to get up, now.”

  What a joke. The only way I was moving was if that thing dragged me back to its lair. Right then, that actually didn’t seem so horrible. The pain lancing through every inch of my body was enough to make me relish death’s embrace – especially if it would save my friend.

  I was easy prey. No challenge. Surely it would choose me over a foe who could fight back ... in theory anyway. Riva was a great friend, but I’d once watched a squirrel chase her out of her own backyard. “Please!” I begged, using every ounce of willpower to speak.

  She backed up a step, then another, her eyes never wavering.

  There came a crackle of leaves and the soft thud of a heavy foot setting down. Whatever it was, it was standing right behind me.

  “Remarkable.” For one odd moment, Riva’s voice sounded disturbingly calm, but then she let loose an ear-splitting scream.

  She was answered by an animalistic roar like nothing I’d ever heard before. Then, whatever had been chasing us stepped over me toward her.

  The fuck?

  Coarse brown fur, claws three inches long, legs seemingly made of pure muscle, and ... bipedal?

  Surely I must’ve been hallucinating. Hadn’t my doctor said something about that? Yeah. He’d been talking about worst-case scenarios for my illness. This was one of them, the last stages before my body began to shut down. After that, I’d slip into an irreversible coma. Death would follow shortly after.

  Funny. If I had to hallucinate, I would’ve thought it would be of something a bit more friendly. Certainly, I could have imagined better – Gary, for example. Instead, I was serving myself up something straight from Chiller Theater, a nightmare to follow me down into the darkness as my organs seized and I went into cardiac arrest.

  Riva continued to back up and the creature followed, affording me a better look. It moved with a disturbing sort of grace, a surety of step. It was almost as if it knew it were an apex predator stalking prey that would offer little in the way of resistance.

  I couldn’t see its front from my angle, curled in a fetal ball as I was, but it towered over my friend. At least six feet tall with broad shoulders. I could see the ridges of its spine, almost as if they were trying to tear their way out of the creature’s hairy skin.

  Atop a short, thick neck rested a massive head. Two ears poked out at the top, over its fur. It wasn’t hard to imagine the rest – the cold eyes of a predator, a snout filled with rows of sharp teeth.

  No way.

  This was what my brain conjured up in the last few moments before oxygen deprivation set in – a freaking werewolf? I knew we shouldn’t have watched that stupid movie last night. So lame, and not even in a Team Jacob sort of way.

  The creature lunged at Riva. She squealed in terror and dove out of the way. It missed and gouged the tree she’d been standing in front of, scoring it deeply with its claws. My friend threw her flashlight at it, but the beast knocked the cheap plastic projectile away and attacked again, a lumbering strike which my friend just barely managed to avoid.

  Or had she?

  I knew a feint when I saw one. The attack had been sloppy, belying the grace with which the monster carried itself. It was almost as if it had purposely missed. That spoke of intelligence. It was trying to scare her first, drive her into a frenzy before it tore her to shreds.

  Riva backed up, tripped, and then scooted awa
y on her butt until her back was against another tree. “Please run, Tamara,” she whispered in hitched breaths, her voice devoid of all hope.

  In the final moments of her life, she was thinking of me.

  Tears blurred my vision and with them came resolve.

  No! I couldn’t let that happen. Not like this.

  It was too late for me – there was little chance of getting to a hospital in time, even if this thing didn’t stand between us and escape. But not for her. She still had a chance and, by God, I was going to give it to her.

  I bit down on my tongue, forcing my head to clear for a moment. Summoning everything I had, I pushed myself up with my arms. The movement almost caused me to empty my guts again, but I clenched my teeth until the feeling passed.

  It was approaching her, slowly, seeming to savor her terror. The scent of urine caught in my nose and I realized Riva’s bladder had probably loosed itself. Either that or mine had. It was hard to tell in the state I was in.

  Grabbing hold of the sapling nearest me, I pulled myself up, forced my legs beneath me, and willed them to hold. They didn’t have to do their job for long, just enough for her to get away.

  I took a shaky step away from the tree, then another, my legs supporting my weight. The creature either didn’t notice or didn’t consider me a threat because it continued to face my friend, despite my lack of anything remotely resembling stealth.

  The truth was I should have been terrified, but all I could feel inside of me was a cold anger welling up.

  “What are you doing?!” Riva screamed, seeing me approach. “Run!”

  In response, the beast let out a grumbling sound that could have almost passed as laughter.

  Yeah, well, fuck that.

  “Go. Get out of here.” My voice was barely a whisper as I sized up the creature. What I was thinking was absolute madness, the craziest form of suicide. At the same time, it definitely beat lying there waiting to die. At least this way my family would get a good story to share.

  My family.

  I mentally said farewell to my mother, father, and even Chris as I tensed up, gathering all the strength I had left. They deserved better, but I didn’t have the time. So, rather than get hung up on long goodbyes that would go unheard, I flung myself at the creature.

  Dizzy as I was, my aim held true. I leapt upon its back, wrapped my legs around its mid-section, and grabbed its massive right arm in a half-nelson.

  Hah! Second place in state’s, my ass. I’d like to see the guy who’d taken gold try this shit.

  The werewolf snarled in anger and began to spin around, no doubt hoping to shake me loose. The movement caught me by surprise and I subsequently puked all over its fur, but still somehow managed to maintain my grip.

  “Get the hell out of here!” I screamed once my throat was clear.

  It was an impossible fight against an even less possible monster. I was certain the creature would throw me off with ease – that my last memory in this world would be of my skull splattering against a tree trunk, but I held on.

  “Bent!” Riva cried, but I was a bit too busy to acknowledge her.

  Any second now this thing was going to peel me off like a tick and gut me on the forest floor. Why on Earth wasn’t she running?!

  No matter. I wasn’t going to make it easy for this thing. I grabbed its free arm with mine and wrenched with everything I had – a feeble move, but one that would probably guarantee this beast would be pissed off enough to vent its anger on me, allowing my friend a fighting chance.

  The creature abruptly stopped spinning and launched itself backward. Unable to shake me, it was going to crush me instead. This was it.

  I screamed out in defiance, determined to make this thing’s victory a costly one.

  The crack of bone breaking rent the air and suddenly the wolf dropped to one knee, letting out a squeal that was unmistakable in its meaning – pain.

  It was only then that I realized the massive limb I’d locked in an armbar now swung limply. I’d somehow shattered the creature’s arm at the elbow.

  “No fucking way,” I whispered to myself.

  If this was indeed the last hallucination of a dying mind, it was finally getting good.

  GET BENT!

  The Hybrid of High Moon – Book 1

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.

  Defilers beware!

  Rick Gualtieri is the author of several books, including:

  Bill the Vampire (The Tome of Bill - 1)

  Night Stalker: A Tome of Bill Series Companion

  Scary Dead Things (The Tome of Bill - 2)

  The Mourning Woods (The Tome of Bill - 3)

  Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill - 4)

  Sunset Strip: A Tome of Bill Series Companion

  Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill - 5)

  Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill - 6)

  The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill - 7)

  Shining Fury: A Tome of Bill Series Companion

  The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill - 8)

  The Tome of Bill Series: Volume One

  Bigfoot Hunters

  The Poptart Manifesto

 

 

 


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