by Jamie Davis
“Okay, don’t do anything until I get there unless there is a change in the situation, and the hostage is in imminent danger,” Rudy said. He glanced at his watch. “I’m ten minutes out.” Cutting the phone’s connection, he looked to Dean as he slid the SUV into gear and started up and out of the garage. “We’ve been checking the warehouse district once we were able to track Gibbie’s phone. We were able to narrow it down to one particular building, and my team has been casing the place carefully while monitoring Gibbie’s situation. They’re saying they have plans to move him to the roof at dawn and have a vampire barbecue.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Dean said. He was alarmed at the werewolf’s matter-of-fact manner.
“We think it’s an idle threat,” Rudy replied. “They could have killed him by staking him at any time. I think they want something from him. Information or something else. I’m not sure, but we’re not taking any chances. We plan to go in just before dawn, or sooner if it looks like they are moving Gibbie to the roof.”
“How many people are there?” Dean asked. “Do they have weapons?”
“Guns don’t concern me so much as the presence of silver, Dean,” Rudy said. “We know they used a silver chain or cable to subdue Gibbie in front of The Irish Shop when they abducted him. If they have other silver items, such as silver-infused bullets or arrows, we could be in trouble.”
“I brought my med bags and gear,” Dean said. “I’ll be there to help if you need it.”
“That’s good, but let’s hope we do this without any trouble or at least a minimal amount of it,” Rudy said. “I would like to catch these guys and turn them over to the police with some information on their leadership. That way we can try and put an end to The Cause once and for all. I’ve tried to impress that on my guys and gals. They are all out for blood. They all have heard about what happened at the Barrens. It’s going to be hard to keep them from ripping these terrorists apart, limb from limb.”
Dean shuddered at the thought of a pack of angry werewolves loose in a warehouse full of humans they were mad at. He looked at Rudy as he drove. “Can you keep them under control?”
“I hope so,” Rudy answered. “My pack leader bond is strong, and I can compel a lot from a pack member, but once the action starts, instincts take over. If they lose control, if we start taking losses in the assault on the building, I’m afraid that all bets are off.”
“Let’s both hope it doesn’t go that route,” Dean said. “It will only prove to their enemies that Unusuals are the monsters they believe they are.”
“I know the risks, Dean,” Rudy said. “I want this to end as much as to get Gibbie back. I want to take out the opposition and move forward peacefully. I have a family and children. I want them to grow up and realize their full potential without worrying about what some human might think about their shapeshifter side.”
Dean thought about that as they continued to the location in silence. He had only met Rudy a few times. He forgot that he was a person who had a family like everyone else. He had hopes and dreams and wanted the best for his kids just like every other person did. They were different, sure, but they were also very much the same. It was important to keep that in the front of his mind even though he already knew it deep inside. He continued to think about it as they drove through the deserted early morning streets.
———
Dean crouched by the corner of a building staring across the dimly lit street at a large, two-story warehouse where they thought Gibbie was being held. He checked his trauma gear over one more time and looked behind him to make sure that his assistant was where she was supposed to be. Marian nodded and showed she was holding the heart monitor and his med bag in both hands. He had been surprised to see Marian on the scene with her father when he arrived a half hour earlier. Apparently, they had needed her hacking expertise to open the connection on Gibbie’s phone, and she refused to show any of the adults how it was done. Dean was glad to see her. He knew he might need an extra pair of hands. This was a tactical assault, and he would need her if he ended up with a bunch of trauma patients later on.
Her father was glad to have something else for her to do and someone to keep an eye on her. He clearly wanted to participate in the assault on the building but didn’t want to leave her unattended. Dean’s proposal that she join his team for medical support was a perfect solution for everyone concerned.
“Marian, they should be about ready to go in, can you see anything?” Dean asked. “My human eyes are only picking up shadows and darkness.”
She moved up to crouch next to him and looked around the corner. “I got your back, bossman,” the teen werewolf said. She peered up at the roofline across the street. Dean followed her gaze, and for a moment thought he caught a flicker of movement. Then he wasn’t sure he saw anything as the shadows swirled around whatever he saw, or thought he saw.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“They found a window on the second floor that was unlocked or that they were able to break open quietly,” she replied. “I saw four of our team go in that way. I think the others are trying around the other side. I don’t see anyone else. Wait, something is happening.”
Dean turned his gaze down to the street level. He heard the distinctive pops of gunfire. Muzzle flashes from the shots lit up the first-floor windows. He tensed and waited. There had been a flurry of shots and then silence. Then he heard another two, no three, pops that sounded farther away, deeper inside the building.
Marian was leaning forward as if straining against an invisible rope. Her head turned this way and that as if trying to look everywhere at once. Dean laid a hand on her arm to attempt to calm her down. She jumped and turned to look at him with a feral snarl, her eyes glowing red in the darkness.
“Easy, kid,” Dean soothed. “You need to take a breath. One thing we can’t do is go rushing in there and not pay attention to our situation. Remember scene safety. I know that with guns involved it’s less safe than we’d like, but that is all the more reason to keep ourselves calm and grounded. When they call us in, we are going to walk, not run over there and start doing our jobs. The fastest way to screw up is to start rushing. We bring order to chaotic situations; we don’t add to it, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Dean,” she said. “You’re right. I’ll keep myself in check. Thanks for the reminder.” She jerked her head around and looked back at the building. “I just heard someone inside say the word ‘medic.’ I think they are going to bring us in soon.”
As if on cue, the door in the side of the building across the street opened, and they saw Marian’s father stand in the opening and wave to them, gesturing for the two of them to come over. Dean shouldered the strap for the trauma bag, then he and Marian dashed across the street and followed Mr. Gregory inside. Dean looked around, scanning his surroundings as he entered. The large warehouse room on the other side contained scattered crates and pallets stacked to the ceiling. There were large concrete columns that supported the roof around the room. He didn’t see anyone.
“How many injured?” Dean asked Marian’s father as they picked their way around the obstacles on the floor.
“One of the pack took a bullet wound,” the werewolf replied. “Based on the pain and the bleeding we think it was silver coated or a silver alloy. Three of the six humans are down. We caught two others more or less intact. The last one is holed up in the office upstairs using the vampire as a shield. Rudy is talking with him now, trying to get him to surrender.”
“Let’s look at the gunshot wound first, then I want to look at the ‘more or less intact’ humans, too,” Dean said. The werewolf nodded and turned towards a set of stairs. As they got closer, Dean heard a male voice.
“I can’t stop the bleeding, it’s soaking through everything I have put on the wound.” Dean could finally make out figures in the darkness ahead clustered around a shape on the floor. He approached with Marian and her father, then handed the father the large flashlight he had stowed
in the trauma bag. Mr. Gregory switched it on and played the light over the scene where the figures stood.
Dean saw a man on the floor writhing in pain. He was extremely pale. Another figure was pressing a blood-soaked cloth against his arm above the elbow. Dean set the trauma bag down, took in the amount of blood pooling on the floor and dripping from the makeshift dressing and made a decision to go right to the use of a tourniquet. He had a combat application tourniquet in the oversized cargo pocket of his duty pants. Pulling it out and ripping open the Velcro strap, Dean wrapped it around the injured man’s upper arm, lacing the end through the buckle and pulling it tight.
“Ouch,” the man said, looking sharply up at Dean.
“I know that hurts, but it needs to start out tight, or it won’t clamp down tight enough to stop the bleeding,” Dean said. “I’m Dean, the paramedic, what’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while he worked to distract the patient from what he was doing.
“I’m Morgan, Morgan Gregory,” the patient said through gritted teeth.
“He’s my uncle,” Marian said chiming in from beside Dean. “What can I do?”
“Take over on the arm here and try and control the bleeding. Apply another layer of gauze over what is there and press down hard just like I taught you,” Dean said to his helper. He turned his attention back to his patient. “Okay, Morgan. I’ve got the tourniquet in place here. Now comes the hard part. This is going to hurt while I tighten this down but it has to be done to stop the arterial bleeding in your arm. Alright?”
“Do what you need to do, I’ll deal with it,” Morgan said.
Dean nodded. He started to twist the windlass stick built into the tourniquet. As the twisting pulled on the fabric of the strap, it tightened the strap. Morgan groaned in pain. Dean watched the blood dripping from the soaked dressing slow and then stop. He latched the windlass in place with a smaller built-in Velcro strap to keep it from unwinding and then looked at Marian.
“Keep the pressure on the wound for another few minutes. Then you can wrap it in place with a pressure dressing,” Dean said. “I’m going to start an IV and get some fluids started in case we need them to keep his blood pressure up.”
He dug around in the trauma bag and compiled IV supplies, to start the IV on the other arm. By the time he was finished, Marian was finished with bandaging the dressings in place on the injured arm. He double checked the wound and saw the bleeding had indeed stopped. One patient down and tended to, now to check on the others.
“Where is Gibbie being held and where are the humans you said might be injured?” Dean asked Marian’s father.
“They’re upstairs,” he replied. “Two have some scratches and bruises, and maybe a concussion. We are waiting for an opening to remove them from up there to down here. The third one got bitten pretty badly on the shoulder. He got away from us and is holed up with the vampire. He is threatening to kill him if we don’t leave. Rudy is trying to talk him into surrendering.”
“Damn,” Dean said. “Do we know if he’s armed?”
“There’s plenty of loose and broken pallet wood around in here. I don’t think it would be hard to come up with a makeshift stake,” one of the assembled pack members said. Then he suggested, “Maybe we could just wait until he passes out from lack of blood.”
“Except with that bite, time is ticking down,” Dean said. “I need to give him a Wolfsbane injection soon, or he’s going to end up a pack member. I don’t think Rudy will want that.” The surrounding growls from the pack members told him they agreed with him.
“Take me upstairs to Rudy,” Dean said. “I might have an idea.”
Chapter 75
Dean was escorted upstairs, while Marian remained on the lower level, monitoring her uncle’s condition. Two of the other pack members carried Dean’s bags and monitor for him. He entered the second floor that looked much like the first floor, except the there was a row of doors that led to windowed offices along one wall. He guessed they were there so managers could see onto the warehouse floor and monitor what was going on. He heard Rudy talking to someone in a loud, clear voice, his strong baritone carrying throughout the large, open space of the warehouse’s second floor.
“Look, you’ve got nowhere to go,” Rudy said. “Come out now and we can help you, we promise we won’t harm you further.”
“No, I have no reason to trust monsters like you,” a muffled voice said. “One of your rabid buddies bit me. He bit me! I know what’s going to happen now. I have nothing to live for. I don’t want to become one of you.”
Dean moved towards the voices and saw Rudy standing by a stack of wooden crates, his eyes focused on one of the enclosed offices. He could see a pair of shadowy figures inside the darkened office through the large plate-glass window set in the wall next to the door. Dean moved up next to Rudy and looked at the office. It was unlikely that any of the pack members could get inside in time to stop the man from killing Gibbie if he was determined to do the job, even if they shifted and moved at top speed.
“Can I talk to him?” Dean asked. “I might have something that can talk him down. Make him have something to live for and give up.”
“Take it away,” Rudy said with a wave of his hand. “I’m no hostage negotiator. I would much rather take a direct approach and charge in there. But I also know what that would mean to our friend in there.”
Dean nodded and moved around in front of Rudy.
“Hello inside the office,” Dean called out. “My name is Dean. I’m a human paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”
There was no answer.
“Look, I understand you are injured, that you were bitten,” Dean called out again. “I want you to know that no matter what you think, there is a way to keep anything from happening to you as a result of that.”
“You’re lying,” the shaky voice came from inside the room. “I know that it’s just a matter of time until I turn into a freak like those other monsters out there. I’d rather die.” There was a shriek from inside the room and then Dean heard Gibbie’s frantic voice.
“Dean, he’s got a stick, and he is sharpening it with a pocket knife. Get me outta here.”
“Everybody needs to calm down,” Dean said trying to project his voice without sounding like he was shouting. “Tell me your name. I told you mine.” There was silence for a bit then the voice answered.
“I’m Eric.” The voice sounded exhausted. Maybe he was losing blood, Dean thought.
“Okay, Eric, I’m not lying about helping you,” Dean replied. “I have a drug that can reverse the shape-shifting effects of the bite, but I need to administer it quickly after the bite for it to work.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Eric asked.
“I’m a paramedic, a healer, a medical professional and a human,” Dean replied. “I don’t lie to my patients. You are my patient. I came here to treat anyone wounded during this rescue. That includes you, too.”
“You’re him,” Eric said.
“What?” Dean asked.
“You’re the one that we helped the Chief frame for Zach’s murder,” Eric explained. “Why would you want to help me?”
Dean paused. As much as he felt vindicated by hearing Eric’s admission, he was angry, hurt and emotionally engaged. That made it tough to be a professional in this situation. If he were an armed tactical medic and he had been in the lead elements of the assault on this building, he might have even been called upon to injure or kill this person. Now he was in the difficult role of trying to help him. Why was he interested in helping this guy? Letting Eric become a werewolf, turning into a creature the man had dedicated his life fighting against, would be a fitting punishment. But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Dean was a healer. Being a paramedic and helping people was all he had wanted to be, if he stopped doing that, even for a moment, just because he was angry — well, that made him no better than them.
“Eric, all I can tell you is that I’m here to help you. I
also want to rescue my friend. We can accomplish both things here. You sound tired. Is your wound still bleeding?”
“Yes, I can’t do much with one hand to stop it,” Eric said.
“I think you need to let me come in there and stop that bleeding. Once I do that, I can give you the medicine that will stop you from getting the disease that causes shapeshifting. That’s what it is, you know. It’s just a disease. They aren’t monsters. They are just people who got a type of virus, and have adjusted to living with a long-term illness.”
“We don’t really see it that way, Dean,” Rudy whispered behind him.
“Shhh,” Dean said lowering his voice. “I’m trying to talk him out of there. We can talk about your lycan culture and history later.”
Eric was quiet for a few moments, then he responded. “I don’t want to become like them. I don’t know. You could come in here and do anything to me. How do I know you are telling me the truth?”
“Eric, at the end of it all, I can’t give you any guarantee beyond my word, my promise that I want to help keep you from dying, or developing the shapeshifting illness,” Dean said. “Think of what you’ve heard about me. Have you heard anything about me that denies that I work hard to take care of my patients, whoever they are?”
Another pause in the conversation, then Eric replied. “Okay, but if anyone comes in, it is just you alone. If I see anyone else, the vampire dies.”
A hand clamped on Dean’s shoulder. “No, Dean, it’s too risky,” Rudy whispered in his ear. “We have no way to protect you.”
“Ashley told me that I had to make a choice,” Dean said to the pack leader. “That I would have a decision to make that would solve the problems here in Elk City. I think maybe this is it. I am a healer first and foremost. I need to go in there and tend to the wounds of a man who is my enemy, no matter how I feel about him personally. I have to do this.”