Smoke Rising

by Craig Halloran

  He straightened up. “I had my doubts.” With a bloody hand, he picked up the other bullets from the table. “Why didn’t you shoot him?”

  “They want him alive.”

  “They? Don’t let your overzealous sense of duty get me or you killed, Agent Shaw. ” He stepped past her and plucked the knife out of the deader’s chest. He flipped it around and faced her. “He’s a murderer. And murderers must die.” He pointed his finger in her face. “I told you he was a werewolf. Now hand over the gun.”

  “No.” She held out her hand. “Hand over the bullets.”

  “It’s my gun.”

  “I’m not arguing with a twelve-year-old.”

  Smoke’s face drew tight as he handed over the bullets. “Fine. Just, the next time you hesitate, remember—he twists people’s heads off!” He made his way into the hall and knelt down by some blood drops on the floor. “Seems you clipped him, and my guess is he didn’t like it.”

  “Follow the blood,” she said, loading the bullets into their cylinders. As she made her way down the hall toward the cafeteria, one of the double doors squeaked open. Smoke darted in front of her. A shotgun blast rang out. She flattened on the floor. Aimed her weapon.

  In a burst of motion, Smoke jerked one of the pea-coat men through the door and ripped the shotgun from his grasp. He lowered the barrel to between the man’s eyes.

  “No, no man! Please, don’t shoot me.”

  Smoke kneeled down, pressing the barrel deeper into the man’s face. “Where’s Mister Vaughn?”

  “Who?”

  Smoke punched him in the gut. “The werewolf.”

  “Aw man, aw man, I don’t know!”

  “How many others?” Sidney piped in.

  “Just me. Just me.”

  “Liar,” Sidney said, backing into the cafeteria. There were no signs of anybody anywhere.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Bullets ripped through the air from the other end of the hall.

  Smoke dragged the man into the cafeteria.

  “Who was that?”

  “The other man, Allen. Like me, he stayed to finish you off.” He chuckled. “And if he doesn’t, the others will.”

  Smoke looked up at Sid. “We’ve got to go. Time’s wasting.”

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  “Yer gonna get wasted, all right,” the goon said.

  Smoke took the shotgun stock and clocked the goon in the jaw. “I hate big talkers.” He nodded at the table. “Get the gear. I’ll cover the hall.”

  Sidney moved, picking up pistols and holsters.

  Ka-Blam! Ka-Blam!

  She whipped around. Smoke was gone. “Dammit.”

  He reappeared back inside the door with another shotgun strapped on his shoulder. “Got him.”

  She took a moment and caught her breath. Is this really going on? Werewolves and zombie-like men called deaders? She swooned a little.

  Smoke wrapped his arms around her waist and steadied her. “We aren’t finished yet. And I think you’re going to have quite a shiner, but I can live with it.”

  “Look who’s talking,” she said.

  Smoke’s clothes were blood-soaked in some parts.

  The cafeteria suddenly became quiet. She remembered what AV had said: no one ever left alive. She took a shotgun from Smoke’s shoulder and pumped the handle.

  “Until today.”

  “Until what today?”

  “Nothing,” she said, looking at the floor. She found AV’s blood. “Let’s go.”

  The blood trail led into the darkness of the stairwell. She turned on her flashlight.

  Smoke cut in front of her. “You shine. I’ll lead.” He took off up the steps, clearing the first floor and heading up the second flight. He cracked the door open.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Bullets blasted into the stairwell doors.

  “Turn off the light and cover me,” Smoke said.

  “Wait.”

  He surged through the door.

  Sidney laid down shotgun cover fire into the middle of the hall. Shots cracked out from everywhere. Muzzle flashes flared. Shielded behind the door, she cracked off a few more rounds and everything fell silent. Now that it was night, the hallway was almost pitch black. The seconds seemed like minutes as she peered into the shadows.

  Pop!

  A man cried out. A group of shadows tussled in the hall. Something cracked. Another man screamed.

  Blam! Blam!

  “It’s clear,” Smoke said, his voice hollow in the blackness of the hall. “Come on. There’s still a trail of blood.”

  Just as Sidney eased into the hallway, the fine hairs on her neck rose. She started to turn. A hairy paw clamped down on her shoulder and dug its sharp nails into her skin.

  “I’ll take this,” the soft savage voice of the wolfman said, sliding Smoke’s pistol with the silver bullets out of the back of her pants. “Set down your weapons and stop resisting. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Hot saliva dripped onto her neck, arousing her carnal senses. Compelled to obey, she set the shotgun and pistol down.

  “I’m not so bad, Pretty,” AV said, wrapping his powerful arm around her waist. He picked her up off her feet like a child. “Come quietly now and everything will be fine.”

  She wanted to believe him. Her rigid body slackened. “No,” she managed to say.

  “Yes,” he replied, moving down into the stairwell’s blackness.

  In a twisted moment of fate, her terror turned to attraction as she felt herself being carried over the threshold of wickedness. Everything she knew to be right suddenly turned wrong. Reaching deep inside, she found a spark and tried to cry out against her captivating bonds.

  AV clamped his hand over her mouth. “Sssh…”

  CHAPTER 37

  The second-floor doors to the stairwell flung open, and Smoke emerged. He hurled himself down the stairwell, crashing into Sidney and AV. The jolt knocked her loose from the werewolf’s clutches.

  “Fool!” AV roared, lashing out and striking Smoke in the chest.

  The hardened soldier crashed into the wall. The stairwell lit up with bright barrel flashes.

  Ka-Blam! Ka-Blam! Ka-Blam!

  Smoke unloaded his shotgun into AV’s chest, rocking the werewolf backward.

  Click.

  “You’re a dead man!” AV roared.

  Sidney crawled through the darkness as she heard heavy blows smacking into flesh. Man and monster cursed and snarled. I have to help! A clatter of metal skidded over the landing. She dove toward it and felt the cool pistol clutched in her fingers.

  Whap! Whap! Whap!

  Punches and angry howls filled the stairwell. The heavy scuffles and grunts were inseparable. Weapon ready, she rushed into the fray, grabbed a handful of coarse hair, and fired.

  Blam!

  A shrieking howl split her ears, and a swipe of claws knocked her from her feet. She fired again at the sound of feet fleeing up the stairs.

  Blam!

  Smoke grabbed her hand and moaned, “Stop! Only three more bullets left.”

  They helped each other to their feet. Smoke leaned on her, limping down the stairwell. He looked like he had crawled out of a mine field.

  “We need to get you help.”

  He spat blood. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Well, I look better than most guys who’ve slugged it out with a werewolf.” He groaned. “We need to kill this guy.”

  “We need more help.”

  “Follow the blood. I think we’ve almost got him.” He pointed at bloody footprints on the floor. “Staggered. You got him good.”

  The blood trail led to the emergency room and then to the door of a locked office. She peered through the portal. AV sat in a chair, digging medical pliers into an abdominal wound. He plucked out a bloody silver bullet and tossed it to the floor.

  Sidney tapped on the glass and pointed the barrel at him.

&nb
sp; The werewolf’s eyes widened.

  She fired.

  Blam!

  Cat-quick, he sprang away, crashing through the window and into the parking lot.

  “Missed. Dammit!”

  Smoke busted the door handle off with a fire extinguisher and kicked it open.

  “True, but I think you scared him off,” Smoke said, stepping inside and looking out the broken window. “And the hunt starts all over.”

  “Did you hear that?” she said.

  An engine flared up with a gentle roar. A second later, a maroon Cadillac Escalade sped through the parking lot. AV the werewolf filled the seat.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She took aim. Smoke pushed the barrel down.

  “I think the Hellcat has a better chance of not missing.”

  She took off, racing into the ER waiting room. The sliding glass doors were sealed and the main entrance door wouldn’t open.

  Smoke picked up a row of seats and hurled them through the glass. “After you,” he said.

  Sidney jumped down the steps and flung open the car door.

  Smoke slid over the hood.

  “Don’t you ever do that again!” she said, firing up the engine. She shifted into reverse, hit the gas, and swung the car around. Dropping the car into drive, she stomped on the gas, smoking the wheels.

  “Nothing like the smell of burning rubber in the evening,” Smoke said, crawling into the back seat. “Sorry about the upholstery.”

  “What are you doing?” she yelled at the rearview mirror.

  Smoke popped down the rear seat, pulled his duffle bag from the trunk, and crawled back into the front seat. “Getting this,” he said, holding an M-16 assault rifle with an M203 grenade launcher mounted under the barrel. “A real beauty, isn’t it?”

  “Illegal as hell!”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t. Jealous?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “Well, get after him. It’s time to blow Fang Face away.”

  The engine roared as they raced up onto the highway. AV’s bright red taillights weaved in and out of traffic about ten car lengths ahead.

  “Looks like he knows we’re coming.” She changed lanes, pushing on the gas. “And don’t you dare discharge your weapon. There are civilians everywhere.”

  Smoke rolled down the window. “Don’t you have a siren or something?”

  “No, Starsky, I don’t.”

  A grin crept onto Smoke’s busted lips. “Just pull alongside.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Blow his doors off.”

  Barreling down the highway one lane over, Sidney caught up with AV.

  “Perfect!” Smoke yelled.

  AV slammed on his brakes.

  The grenade blasted out of the barrel and tore out a section of the guard rail.

  “You missed?” Sidney said.

  “It happens.” Smoke started firing short bursts of bullets. Takka takka … takka takka …

  AV turned the Escalade off at the next exit.

  “Great, he figured that plan out,” she said, cruising after the SUV. She was three car lengths from the bumper.

  “Get closer,” Smoke said, shooting out the back windows. “I need to get the wheels.”

  “No,” she said, “he might slam on the brakes.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No, wouldn’t you do th—”

  The SUV’s brake lights blared. The huge car started to screech.

  Sidney hit the brakes and slung the wheel over to the right. She hit the berm and skidded by until they came to a stop.

  “Perfect,” Smoke said, crawling out the window. He fired the launcher over the hood.

  Toomph!

  Inside the cab of the Cadillac, AV’s fierce yellow eyes shone like moons. The entire front end of the SUV exploded.

  Ka-Boom!

  The front of the car was engulfed in flames.

  “That ought to do it.” She got out of her car.

  Smoke approached the burning car and unloaded a few more rounds into it.

  Takka takka … takka takka ….

  There was nothing left but a ball of flame and black smoke. Smoke circled with wary eyes, barrel lowered toward the flames. The driver’s side door opened with an eerie groan and fell onto the pavement.

  AV the werewolf stepped out. All of his fur was smoking.

  Smoke let him have it.

  Takka takka … takka takka …

  AV barked a wolfish laugh. “Fools, you can’t kill me!” The werewolf’s eyes narrowed on Sidney.

  She went for the pistol as the monster closed in. She brought the weapon up and fired a blast into the ground where AV once stood.

  Hurtling through the air, he landed on top of her. The breath was knocked out of her, and the pistol clattered over the road. AV wrapped his claws around her neck and squeezed. “Goodbye, Pretty!”

  Crack!

  AV’s wolfish head jerked forward.

  Smoke locked his rifle under AV’s neck and pulled back with both arms. AV released his grip on Sidney.

  Gasping for breath, she crawled away.

  “Get the gun!” Smoke yelled.

  The werewolf bucked and slung like a bull.

  Smoke held on to the rifle and rode the werewolf like a cowboy.

  Sidney searched for the pistol. A glimmer of metal rested underneath her tire. Snatching it up, she rolled to a knee and took aim. AV now had Smoke in a headlock.

  “One shove,” AV said, concealed behind Smoke’s body, “and I break him. Walk away, and I’ll let him live. I’ll let both of you live.”

  She didn’t have a clear shot. Little more than half of his head was exposed.

  “Take the shot,” Smoke sputtered. “You’ve got to take the shot and forget about me.”

  “Touching,” AV said, applying more pressure to Smoke’s head.

  The large man’s face turned purple. She heard bones popping and cracking.

  Her eyes found Smoke’s.

  His lips spit out two words. “Center mass.”

  “Time’s up, Pretty,” AV said. He howled at the moon. “And I don’t think you can hit me anyway.”

  In a burst of motion, Smoke shifted his leg behind the werewolf and flipped him over.

  Sidney fired.

  Blam!

  Both men lay on the road, and only one of them started moving.

  Smoke peeled the werewolf’s arms off him. Hair, claws, and wolf face retracted. In seconds, Adam Vaughn was back, wearing only shorts made from spandex. He had a bullet hole in his heart. While examining the body, Sidney noted a strange brand on his back shoulder: a rising black sun that seemed to be bleeding.

  “Good shot,” Smoke said, groaning. “Can I have my gun back now?”

  She started to hand it to him and stopped. “I have a question first.”

  “All right.”

  “How did you get your hands free, inside AV’s office?”

  “Diamond dust on my fingernails.” He flashed his hands. Where there wasn’t blood, they twinkled a little.

  “Did you learn that in the SEALs?”

  “No, it’s from a Punisher comic book.”

  “Is that from the prison archives, Smoke?”

  He smiled. “Finally.”

  Epilogue

  The night became even longer. Fire trucks arrived. Local law enforcement and the FBI followed. No one listened, and Smoke was back in handcuffs. Sidney spent an hour arguing her case, only to have Ted arrive in his brown trench coat and clear things up in five minutes.

  “A werewolf?”

  “Don’t judge me, Ted.” She yawned. She didn’t really care if he believed it or not. At the moment she was happy to be alive.

  “I know, but that corpse looks like a man.” He watched the emergency crew bag AV up. “Next time take a picture. Maybe a video. And we wanted him alive.”

  “I tried. We both tried, sort of.” She touched her lip and winced. “At least I don’t have prom to
morrow.”

  “What?” Ted shook his head.

  “Nothing. So what happens to him?” she said, looking at Smoke. He was sitting in the back of a police cruiser, all stitched up.

  “Back to prison, I guess.” Ted patted the hood of her car. “Man, I can’t believe you outbid me by a dollar. A dollar! The Hellcat sure is pretty.”

  Sidney wasn’t paying much attention. Her thoughts were on Smoke, AV, deaders, the Black Slate... Many things. But mostly Smoke.

  “Go home,” Ted said, rubbing her shoulder. “Come in when you feel like it tomorrow.”

  A wrecker hauled the SUV off and the ambulance pulled out with AV’s body.

  “I’d rather head back to that hospital.”

  “Sid, there’s a dozen agents over there already. Damned if we didn’t find more missing children.” He scratched his head. “What you did was a good thing. Another good thing. Take comfort in that. As for your friend, I’ll do what I can.”

  An FBI agent shut the cruiser door on Smoke, got inside the car, and sped away. Her friend had vanished. Her chin dipped and she sighed. Then the rain came down.

  ***

  The next day, stiff as a board, Sidney headed into the office. Five hours later, she turned in her statement of events to Ted. It was fifteen pages long.

  “Geez, Sid.” He put on his glasses. “It’s just a report, not a bestseller.”

  She scanned the trophies, pictures, and colorful memorabilia on his wall. “What’s the matter? Are you worried it might cut into football?”

  “No. Well, yes.” He huffed a breath and looked up at her. “Sid, I’m sorry, and I want you to know that I’m glad you’re all right. But deaders? What is a deader?” His desk phone rang. He picked it up. “Ted.” His face darkened and he hung up. “Dammit.” He picked up her report and grabbed his dress coat. “Got to go.”

  He was gone, leaving her all alone. She slipped out of his office, grabbed her bag, took the elevator, and went to her car. The old Interceptor. At least it’s not raining. The rattle in the dash was even worse than before. She turned up the radio and headed for Mildred Bates hospital. Driving up the entrance, the first thing she saw was a great yellow crane with a wrecking ball. She pulled into the parking lot, parked, and got out, gaping.