Wolf Killer (The Hammer Commission)

by John Van Stry

  "I'll hold them off, you better run, Gregory," she said to him. "Or they'll kill you like they killed your brother!"

  Craig looked up, another man was shooting at him, and the bullets were getting bigger, slower, fatter, louder. They started to talk to him; they told him that they were going to kill him, just like they'd killed his brother. All chopped up and torn to pieces.

  Craig could see the trees, turning he ran for them, and ran away, the bullets chasing him and laughing, just as they had laughed when they'd killed his older brother, back when he was just a pup, just a young pup out in the cold with his older brother looking for a place to stay after his parents had died.

  He ran into the trees, and ran and ran and ran. Slowly, the bullets went away, things started to look, to look normal again. He stopped and looked around him. He had no idea where he was, or how far he had gone. Looking behind him he listened for any pursuit, but he couldn't hear anything.

  What had happened? Obviously someone had used some kind of magic on him when he and Ursula had attacked.

  He remembered Ursula's head then, they'd killed her. Which meant it was just him, so if they caught up with him, he'd be next. He thought about the Sage for a moment, but he let that thought die. Survival, his survival, was what mattered now. He had no idea where he was, but he knew he had to get as far from here as quickly as he could.

  Stripping naked he rolled everything up in his shirt, tied the sleeves so he could grab it, then turning into a wolf he picked up the bundle with his teeth and started to run in the direction he had been going. Survival came first. Once he'd gotten away from here, he'd see about food and a place to rest.

  But not until he was far far away.

  20: Burned out cabin

  "Damn, woman, what the hell did you do to me?" Mark whispered to Helena when things finally returned to normal.

  Helena looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. The priests were still going through their rituals; fifteen minutes had gone by since Mark had been shot.

  "I drugged the bullets," she told him.

  "Drugs work on lycans?" Mark asked, surprised.

  "LSD does," Helena chuckled, "Learned that as a young girl. Because our bodies process everything faster and break it down faster, it doesn't last very long, but it gets picked up by your system almost immediately. Craig just got the full effect of fifteen tabs of very high quality acid. I suspect it will be a while before reality and him become fully acquainted again."

  "Where is he?" Mark asked looking around.

  "He ran off after you hit him with Ursula's head. I don't know if he freaked out, or just realized he was losing, but he took off into the woods."

  "Why didn't you chase him?" Mark asked looking around at the others, who noticing he was talking with Helena, had started to walk back over to him.

  "Because you're my job, he's not. You were right about one thing, he wasn't normal. He should have gone down from all of the hits he took. Even that Ursula looked a lot tougher than normal."

  "Well, whatever they were into, it's got to be fairly powerful," Mark sighed and carefully got to his feet. "Think you can backtrack their path here?"

  Helena nodded, "Easily. But you need a few more minutes, Hon. You still look a little unsteady."

  Mark nodded, "Don't worry. We're not going anyplace until they're done." and he motioned towards the priests.

  Twenty or so minutes later the priests all finished and started to pack up their things as Father Hess walked over to Mark.

  "I see that you killed one of them, what happened to the other one?"

  "He got away, Father. We're going to backtrack them to where they came from. I'd appreciate it if all of you could stick around a while longer, wherever it is that they came from, it's a sure bet that something powerful is going to be there. And if it's evil, we're probably going to need your services again."

  Father Hess nodded, "Sure. Are you ever going to introduce me to the young woman who acts a lot like your wife?"

  Mark laughed, "Father Hess, this is my wife, Helena. Helena, Father Hess."

  "Nice to see that Mark hasn't been living a life of solitude," Father Hess smiled, "So when did you get married, Mark?"

  "Oh, we've been married since before I went to work for the church. Got a house, kids, everything."

  "Really? I was always under the impression that you were single."

  Mark shrugged, "When you do what I do for a living, you tend to want to keep people from knowing you have a family."

  "I guess I can understand that. So, care to introduce me to your coworkers?"

  Mark smiled and introduced them next as well.

  "Okay, let's gear up and see if we can find out where they came from," Mark said.

  "Do you think we'll find Craig?" Michael asked.

  Mark shrugged, "No idea. But stay alert. Father, wait in the van with the engine running and the doors locked. If you need us, sound the horn."

  "Sure," Father Hess nodded. "Um, Mark, why is your wife taking off her clothes?"

  "Oh, so she can track them," Mark said as Helena turned into a cougar.

  Father Hess looked at Mark, "So the rumors are true then?"

  Mark nodded, "Yeah, the powers that be wanted it kept quiet, but I knew it would get out sooner or later."

  "Well if the leaders don't mind, I see no reason why I should," Father Hess said nodding. "I'll be in the van with the others."

  Mark went over and got a few more magazines for his pistol and his rifle, grabbed the cross and holy water that had been in Father Braener's bag, then put on a bullet proof vest marked 'FBI' and after the rest loaded up, he went over to where Helena was waiting on the edge of the clearing.

  "Lead on, Hon."

  Helena ducked her head and started into the woods, with the rest of them following.

  The scent trail Helena followed was surprisingly rather straight. Mark guessed they must have really been in something of a hurry when they came here; they went about a half mile when they came up before a well-hidden cave entrance and Helena growled.

  "What is it?" He asked her. He noticed an uneasy feeling as well, like he often got around the more powerful evil monsters.

  "Something unnatural," she said to him, "beyond that, I can not tell."

  Mark nodded, "Okay, move away from the brush, I'm going to clear the opening up some more."

  Pulling his machete out, Mark started to cut back the brush that was around the entrance to the cave, starting with the bush on top, then the ones to the sides and around it. He even cut back a few of the smaller saplings, but left the tree as it was too big for a machete.

  "Think it knows we're out here?" Steve asked.

  Mark nodded, "Yup," and pulling out the bottle of holy water he started to squirt it around the mouth of the cave. When he squirted some inside, it started to hiss and steam.

  "Helena, take Mary back to the van and bring Hess here. Ask for all the holy water they have, a couple of crosses, any and all herbs, some road flares, and the holiest item they brought."

  Helena ducked her head and started back towards the van with Mary in tow.

  "Now what?" Michael asked.

  "We wait. I don't think its going anywhere, and I'm hoping the blessing up on the hill weakened it. But I still have to go in there and kill it. But first I want to do a few things."

  "What do you think it is?"

  "Evil," Mark said and pointed his HK at the opening to the cave. "If you see anything, shoot first, ask questions later."

  "Think that would stop it?"

  "It hasn't come out yet, so yeah, I think so," Mark said.

  They waited uncomfortably, it took a half-hour for the women to return with Father Hess, they were carrying about a gallon of holy water, a half dozen crosses, which Mark made sure everyone put on, and a thin metal rod.

  "What I need, Father, is for you to bless all of us, our guns, and our ammunition, then pour holy water over everything."

  Father Hess nodded, an
d handed Mark the thin metal rod.

  "What's this?"

  "The remains of the cross that belonged to a minor saint. Hopefully it will be enough; we didn't bring any thing more than that."

  Mark nodded and stuck it in the sheath with the machete as Father Hess started to bless them, and sprinkle everyone with holy water, as well as the flares and their rifles. It only took a few minutes, and then Mark had him pour holy water into the rifle magazines, making sure all of the bullets were wet.

  "The water is going to play havoc with the rifling," Steve noted, "and probably will have turned to steam before the bullet even leaves the barrel."

  "It's the thought that counts," Mark said and eyed the entrance to the cave with a frown.

  "Stay behind me, once inside, Michael move to my left, Steve to my right. Mary behind Steve, Helena stay with Father Hess."

  "I should come with you," Helena said.

  Mark turned and looked Helena in the eye and almost growled, "No. You will stay here and protect Father Hess, and you will not argue with me, understand?"

  Helena's eyes got a little wider; she'd never once seen Mark take that kind of tone with anyone, much less her. She nodded, "Okay."

  Mark turned back to the cave, "Light your flares and follow me, it's going to be dark, save your flashlights until we have contact."

  "Why aren't we using our flashlights?" Michael asked as they entered the cave. Mark had his gun help up, he wasn't carrying a flare.

  "They can't mess with what they don't know," Mark said softly.

  The cave went in a short distance, then turned to the left and opened up. Mark didn't see anything, the room was fairly large and quite dark and the shadows from the light of the flares wasn't helping much.

  "Throw your flares, light more," he said, while sweeping his rifle back and forth slowly.

  "Marrrrrk," came a whispered voice, as if in pain, "help me, Marrrk."

  "Show yourself!" Mark called as two flares flew by him into the room, and he heard the sizzling sound of more flares being lit behind him.

  The flares revealed a more comfortable looking place than Mark would have expected. There were bookshelves on the far walls, a nice bed, table, chairs, even a couch. But in the center of the room there was a stone pillar that came up off of the floor, and flattened out into a table of sorts.

  On it laid Father Braener.

  "Help me, Mark," Father Braener gasped and shook on the table.

  "Shit," Michael swore and started to move forward. Mark let go of his rifle with one hand and shoved him back.

  "Mark!" Michael said.

  "Shut up, Mike," Mark growled and took a second step into the room, sweeping left, then right, and looking overhead, grabbing the rifle with both hands again.

  "Mark, quickly!" Father Braener gasped, "Help me..."

  "Recite the lord's prayer," Mark said, moving in carefully. Whatever the monster was, it had to be here somewhere, he could smell it, he could feel it.

  "I need help, Mark, I'm dying!" Father Braener gasped, turning to look at them.

  This time it was Mary who made to push past them, she had a flare in each hand as she moved forward.

  Mark swore and tripped her, sending her sprawling, the flares rolling forward.

  "Mark! What are you doing?" Michael said.

  "Say the prayer!" Mark growled and ripping the cross off of his neck he threw it at Father Braener.

  The moment the cross hit Father Braener, there was a bright flash, momentarily blinding everyone. Mark didn't hesitate; he pulled the trigger and fanned his rifle across the room, until his eyes adjusted.

  "Damn," Steve swore and Mike gasped while Mary said something very unladylike from the floor where she was looking up.

  Father Braener's body was still there, only now they could see the chest had been cut open, and there was blood everywhere.

  "Glamour," Mark said. "Lights!"

  They all turned their flashlights on then, filling the room rather brightly. He could make out the room and its furnishings much better now, but there was still no one in it.

  "Empty," Michael said.

  "More glamour," Mark growled, "Look for the shadow that doesn't belong, quickly!"

  It took a moment, but Mark saw it about the same time Steve did; a shadow of a man. Aiming at where it was being cast from they both opened fire at the same time. There were some more flickers, from the point they were aiming at, a ghostly outline of something starting to show, then Michael and Mary added their rifles to the fix, firing as well.

  Mark ran out first, from having fired earlier, and he swapped magazines then started firing again while the others ran out and reloaded.

  "What is that thing?" Michael asked.

  Mark wasn't sure, yet, but whatever it was, it was tough. It took them about thirty seconds to burn through all of the ammunition they'd brought, and when they were done there was a older looking bald man of Slavic appearance with a small van dyke beard standing before them, wearing old, but still fancy, clothing.

  "Mary, go get more ammo," Mark said and took a step forward.

  "Get all the ammo you want, Mark." The man said, raising a shaking hand and point at them. "This is my home; you can not kill me here!"

  "Care to bet?" Mark growled and pulling out the artifact he held it in front of him. "Back to the pits of hell that spawned you, demon!"

  "Hah! I am not some devil or demon that can be sent back to the depths of the inferno!" The old man laughed and started to hobble towards Mark, but once he got close he suddenly sprung forward with amazing speed and backhanded Mark, sending him flying across the room and into the bookshelves on the other wall.

  Mark swore as he hit the wall, his bones breaking and re-knitting quickly as he fell to the floor. He could see Mary was scrambling out of the cave, the other two backing up and drawing their service pistols and opening fire as they backed towards the entrance, covering for her.

  "Pah!" The old man said and with a swipe of his hand through the air, the pistols were ripped from their grasp and sent flying.

  Grabbing the rod with his left hand, from where it had fallen on the floor, Mark stood and drew his machete.

  "What is your name, old man," Mark growled in pain, his bones were still healing.

  "Popov, like that young fool Gregory. He's a relative it would seem. His parents being the great grandsons of one of my many brothers back in the old world."

  "So, you're a wolf?" Mark said taking a step forward.

  "Hah! I am no filthy animal, like you! I am a great wizard! The greatest! For I have learned the secrets of the blood and I shall live forever! You can not harm me!"

  The old man advanced on Mark again, but this time Mark was ready, he ducked and swung with the rod first, then with the machete. He wasn't surprised when the old man dodged. He could move easily as fast as Mark could, but Mark wasn't going to fall for the slow old man trick again.

  Mark took several swings at the old man, as the man tried to hit him, moving back and forth. Twice Mark lunged forward with the rod, touching the old man and causing him to grunt. But when he lunged forward with the machete the old man dodged quickly, even moving so Mark could hit him with the rod again.

  Mark was still puzzling that when Michael snuck up behind the old man and using the HK rifle like a bat, he slammed the old man in the back with it.

  The old man spun on Michael instantly, and grabbing the rifle, he ripped it out of Michael's hands, stepping forward to attack him.

  But Mark had seen Michael's approach, and he leapt forward with the machete leading, and stabbed the old man in the shoulder with it, causing him to scream loudly in pain.

  Michael retreated quickly as the old man turned back to Mark then.

  "So, that's it? Cold iron!" Mark said grinning nastily at the old man as he started to press in hard, swinging the machete back and forth in front of him. Lunging twice he drove the old man back across the cave, though he was picking up cuts and gashes of his own from the old m
an's fingers, which had nails like claws at the tips.

  The old man started to chant something then, but Mark heard a counter chant in Latin coming from behind him. He couldn't take the time to look, but the expression on the old man's face turned evil as he tried to chant something else, but was one again stopped by another counter chant.

  "I will take you to the depths with me!" the old man suddenly yelled and raising his hands he took a deep breath, just as Mark threw all caution to the wind and leaping forward he drove the machete through the old man's heart, then stuck the rod in his mouth for good measure.

  There was another blinding flash, this time with an accompanying thunderclap, and Mark was once again thrown across the room, but instead of slamming into the far wall he ended up lying on top of someone.

  "I think you broke my legs," Mark heard from under him as he rolled off of them, to see it was Father Hess.

  "Thanks for helping, Father," Mark said and looking down at his legs as he got up he sighed. "I think you're right about your legs though."

  "Well, go cut his head off, then get back over here and help me," Father Hess said through gritted teeth.

  Mark nodded and hurried to comply; wrapping the head in what he guessed was Father Braener's discarded shirt.

  "Take this outside," he said and handed it to Mary.

  "What was that?" She asked.

  Mark went back to Father Hess, Steve and Mike were using two of the rifles as splits for his legs.

  "I'm not sure, what do you think Father? Upir? Vampir?"

  "They're pretty much the same," Father Hess grunted as Steve and Mike helped Mark lift him over Mark's shoulder in a fireman's carry.

  "Vampire? That's a vampire?"

  "No, vamp-ear," Mark said pronouncing it, "not vamp-ire."

  "What's the difference?"

  "Vampirs, or Upirs are wizards who turn evil and live off of blood. They're supposed to be immortal, have affinities for certain magicks, and also eat the hearts of their victims after drinking their blood. But they're not undead."

  "Though it is believed that they become undead after a century or three," Father Hess grunted from over Mark's shoulder. "Now if you all do not mind, I am in a great deal of pain and would appreciate a trip to the hospital rather soon."