by Terry Yates
“Col. Potts!” they heard a soldier scream.
They’d forgotten about the two soldiers who were attempting to keep little Sarah Lewis in her room, as well as attempting to keep her at bay by thrusting their rifles at her. The little girl was now hanging from the fence ceiling, yelling and howling as she tried to pull it down.
Potts heard a noise to his right and turned to see several of the bite victims pushing against the bars at the back wall.
“Shit! They’re trying to get out!” he shouted.
“Colonel!”
Potts turned back to see that the little girl had torn a hole in the fence roof, and was climbing through it.
“What do we do, Colonel?” Both soldiers were looking at him for final instructions.
This is it, Potts thought to himself, then took a deep breath.
“Kill it!” he yelled at the two men.
Before the men could shoot, the girl had crawled through the hole and was now scampering on all fours across the roof where Kyler and others still stood.
“Let’s get out of here, Doctor,” FranAnne told Kyler, more or less taking charge of the moment.
The two soldiers began firing their rifles at the girl as she zigzagged across the roof.
“Let it go!” Potts yelled to the men.
The two soldiers joined Potts and the other soldiers, as the group started to move backwards, guns still aimed at the bite victims, several of whom were slowly following them toward the gate.
“Someone keep an eye on the roof!” Potts barked loudly.
Kyler and the others were already through the gate and standing in the back parking lot, handing the patients to nurses, orderlies, and other soldiers. Capt. Baine and a dozen of his soldiers bolted out of the back entrance of the hospital and ran across the parking lot to the pen.
The soldiers were about to run through the gate, when they saw Potts and his soldiers moving backwards down the hallway, with nine or ten of the bite victims moving toward them.
“What are your orders, Colonel?” Baine yelled from just inside the doorway.
“Go around back!” Potts yelled back at him, keeping his eye on a particular menacing elderly man, who looked like he just might be starting to grow fangs. “They’re tearing down the back wall! Don’t let them get away! Don’t let ‘em get to the woods! And look out for the one on the roof!”
Although Potts didn’t see it, Baine gave a quick salute, then took half of his men and began to run around to the back of the pen, where close to a dozen of the bite victims had pulled several of the bars apart. Realizing their newfound strength, they began to tear through the back fence, ripping through the chains like they were made of aluminum.
The fence wall came down just as Baine and his men rounded the corner. Baine himself was the first to go down, when what had once been a middle-aged man, hit him across the face with one of the iron bars. As soon as Baine hit the ground, the man set on him bringing the iron bar down on Baine’s face and head at least three times before he was shot in the head by one of the soldiers. Small wisps of smoke, caused by the silver in the projectile, slowly blew from the wound in his forehead. A corporal shot and killed a young woman who was running away. He had raised his gun to shoot another, when off of the roof, jumped Sarah Lewis, landing on the man’s head. She immediately bit down on the man’s neck and begin to tear the skin away as he screamed. A female sergeant had aimed her rifle at the small creature, but was quickly set upon by two elderly bite victims, who began to tear at her with small claws that would soon form into large claws. She was hardly on the ground before she was almost torn in two.
Realizing that the back wall had come down, several of the bite victims turned around and began to run toward it. As soon as they did, the others began to rush Potts and his men just as they were getting outside the gate. The fence around the gate and the gate itself, collapsed on top of two of the soldiers. A few of the bite victims jumped and stomped on top of the two soldiers, while the rest lunged at the soldiers, who began to hold them back with their rifles, until they saw Potts step up to one of them, aim his pistol, and shoot it through the head, its body first falling sideways from the kick of the ‘45’, then limply forward. At that point the soldiers began to shoot into the small crowd, three of the bite victims falling dead.
Potts was standing next to the bodies, fanning away the smoke that the silver was causing, which was the only drawback to the special ammo. Somehow the silver mixed with the gunpowder, mixed with werewolf blood, equaled a shitload of smoke, especially when they were hit with as many rounds as they were. Potts chose his people carefully and there was proof of it. Great shots and cool under fire.
Potts looked past the dead bodies to see that Baine’s bunch had been whipped, and many of the bite victims were scattering in all directions. He turned around toward the hospital to see FranAnne, Jefferson, and Kyler guiding people into the hospital. FranAnne looked up in time to see Potts getting her attention.
“Jefferson!” she said loudly, trying to get his attention.
“Yeah!” the MP yelled back just as he was handing a child to a nurse.
“Look!”
The two of them made eye contact with Potts, who had his index and middle fingers pointed at them. He then took his index finger, and pointed to the roof of the hospital, then jerked his thumb back of his shoulder toward the woods.
FranAnne and Jefferson didn’t need to be told twice. They turned and ran into the hospital, holding their rifles, leaving a confused Kyler to continue to help with the patients, now several of them being soldiers.
FranAnne and Jefferson found the emergency stairs and ran up to the second floor as quickly as they both could, Jefferson beginning to leave FranAnne behind. He had close to eight inches on her on height and twice that in leg length. Jefferson was already at the rooftop door as she was rounding the second floor landing.
When FranAnne reached the rooftop door, she burst through it to find Jefferson already at the edge of the roof and in crouching position, rifle aimed. She ran up and kneeled down next to him. FranAnne saw seven or eight of the bite victims running in all directions. She saw one, a young lady, disappear over a ridge toward a new subdivision, and another, a middle-aged Indian man, who was too far away and headed for town.
“How long till sundown?” Jefferson asked, watching a young man through his scope trying to make it to the back woods.
“I’m guessing twenty-something minutes,” she answered, drawing a bead on a fast moving elderly black man who was running to a different part of the backwoods.
“Are they really going to turn into werewolves?” Jefferson asked, placing his index finger on the trigger of his rifle.
“Yep,” FranAnne answered quietly as she too, put her finger through the trigger guard.
“So we can’t wait until they turn into werewolves?”
“Nope…it’ll be too dark.”
“So, we’ve gotta shoot ‘em now.”
“Yep. You ready?” FranAnne asked him, herself not looking too forward to shooting human beings in the back.
“Yeah…I guess.”
“On the count of three,” FranAnne told Jefferson softly. “One…two…three!”
The two pulled their triggers simultaneously. The elderly black man hit the ground hard, FranAnne’s bullet striking him/it square in the back of the head. The force of the bullet caused the man to pitch forward, face first into the grass. Jefferson’s bullet found its mark in the middle of the young woman’s back. By the way her body twisted, Jefferson knew that he’d probably severed her/its spine. The woman began to crawl toward the woods. She couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away from the dense forest, when Jefferson lifted his head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. As he was placing his eye back to the scope, he heard FranAnne’s rifle crack next to him. He looked up to see the young girl’s body twitch, then go limp.
“That was mine,” Jefferson said tersely.
“You’re welcome,�
� FranAnne shot back.
“I could’ve had it.”
“I’m sure you could, but I was just covering your back…whether you like it or not.”
Off to their right, another bite victim, a small boy of no more than eight, was headed toward the woods.
“On three…” FranAnne sighed heavily.
Potts stood over the only two bite victims that remained in the pen…the young man and the elderly black woman, who’d both been the first two to start turning. The young man was lying on his back, writhing as if in extreme agony. He was already starting to grow hair and fangs, and was probably just minutes from turning even with the sun twenty minutes from going down. The elderly black lady that he’d spoken with earlier, was on her hands and knees with her head down on the grass. Potts dispatched the young man quickly with two bullets to the head…then turned his gun toward the old lady…
Kyler could hardly hear with all of the guns going off around him. There were soldiers chasing bite victims in all directions. Several civilians armed with revolvers and shotguns had joined the fray. Kyler had half expected them to whoop and holler as they killed the bite victims. On the contrary, they acted as a small militia, splitting up into smaller groups in an attempt to outflank the howling victims before they could escape. One had to remember that these civilians were aiming their guns at people they probably knew…a tough thing indeed. He wondered if they knew that their bullets were useless.
Once he’d truly gotten a good look at the carnage that surrounded him, Kyler began to feel sick. Men, women, and children of all ages as well as soldiers, littered the area under what would’ve normally been a beautiful pink dusk. The gunshots, the howling, and the screaming were deafening. It was a madhouse out there. The Army hadn’t been prepared for such an enemy. Well, brother, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
“Kyler!”
He looked around for the voice, but now panic had set in, and everyone was going everywhere, the patients, the medical staff, Candy Stripers, hospital visitors, and the bite victims. Guns were blazing everywhere. They were a day late and were paying for it. Potts would catch hell, but what could he do about it? The moon went full a day early. If it hadn’t been for Lauren, who this time saw something that everyone could see, they wouldn’t have had the few extra minutes that they were given.
“Kyler!”
It was Potts. He was standing next to the last remaining fence wall, pistol out, and waving at him. When the two made eye contact, Potts waved his pistol into the air, then began to twirl his arm and wrist into the air, giving Kyler the normal sign that told you to start the helicopter, but in their case, they had no helicopter, and since he’d seen Potts use the signal every time they were ready to leave, he guessed he was telling him to get the trucks started and ready to go. Kyler nodded and took one last look around, feeling completely helpless to do anything. He turned around and began to sprint toward the hospital, where he sprinted through the back door, through the hospital and out the front door, the whole while dodging people who are grabbing at him. He would help in a minute. He would come back, but right now they had to prepare to get the hell out of there.
As he ran through the front door and into the front parking lot, he was met a crowd that made him think of War of the Worlds, Godzilla, or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. People were screaming and running about, many trying to get to their cars, but were shit out of luck, because their cars were blocked in by other vehicles, so they were checking other cars, hoping that the owner was in such a hurry that they left the keys in the ignition.
Kyler sprinted over to the trucks, which were lined up in a row, five on each side of the street, and taking up several small blocks. Jordan, the red-headed private that had found his doctor bag, was standing at the back of the military weapons truck and was being loaded up with weaponry by Cpl. Williams, the fat, high-voiced cook. Williams knelt in the back of the truck and, much to Kyler’s amazement, was putting together guns of every type, rifle’s and revolvers, with the speed and dexterity of a close-up magician. He was setting everything on the tailgate, so the soldiers could simply run by and take one or get more ammo for the guns that they’re already carrying.
As Kyler reached the truck, he put his arm out to stop Pvt. Jordan who was attempting to run back toward the back of the hospital.
“Pvt. Jordan,” Kyler panted. He hadn’t realized how winded he was until he stopped running.
“What is it, Dr. Kyler?” Jordan asked, antsy to get back to the fighting.
“Colonel…Potts…” he panted a few more times before finally straightening up. “Col. Potts wants the caravan started up and ready to go! We don’t have much time! Tell the other drivers to start up…and he specifically asked for you, Pvt. Jordan, so I guess you can go see that the trucks get started up. I’ve got to go back and get the children! I’ll be right back! Now go! Let’s get ready to get out of here!”
As disappointed as he was, Jordan began to run toward the front of the caravan. Potts hadn’t mentioned him at all, but Kyler decided to lie and send the young lad on a safer error, not much mind you, but for the next few minutes anyway, he would be farther away from harm. Kyler nodded to Williams, who continued to lay out the weapons, and began to sprint back toward the hospital.
Potts had just shot a bite victim, this one a man in his early thirties, who was straddling and clawing at a male nurse. The two had been rolling around on the ground in front of the gate fence, when the demi-wolf’s newfound strength allowed it to better the nurse. Potts had shot it in the temple just as it was about to bite the large man. Its body fell against the fence and went limp. As he was about to check the thing for any signs of life, he heard a strange, metallic sound. It sounded like springs, bed springs, as a matter of fact, those round, coiled springs that everyone in the house can hear when you’re pressin’-the-dough. It wasn’t springs, though. It was fence. Kyler looked up to see something fast coming at him from inside the pen. Whoever or whatever it was, was sprinting toward him. The spring sound was the thing stomping on all of the downed or semi-downed fences as it lumbered forward.
Potts had just raised his pistol when the shape crashed into the fence and Potts. Potts landed hard on his back, with both fence and bat-faced man on top of him. He hadn’t expected another human being to ever slam into him with so much force. He hadn’t taken in the thing’s strength, and now here he was, flat on his back, with one of those things on him, and what was worse, he was pinned with the barrel of his gun under his right jaw…and it was cocked with his finger still inside the trigger-guard. Great.
The bite victim was on top of Potts, the bat face just inches from his. Its eyes were the usual blank brown, and there were fangs beginning to show from its gums. It pounded on the fence and subsequently Potts, trying to scratch and claw at him. Potts was having trouble seeing with his one eye, but he could see that this son-of-a-bitch wanted at him badly. As the thing continued to pounce on him, Potts managed to get his finger from the gun butt to the hammer, where he jammed it between the hammer and the cylinder to prevent the gun from firing. But as he struggled with his one arm against the beast, who was now tearing at the fence, he had decided that if the creature either bit him or put out his one eye, then he would remove his thumb and let the pistol fire, ending any chance of him becoming one of those things, or blind.
The bat-faced thing, Potts could see now that it had been a male, considering its face was no more than four inches from his own, was now tearing through the fence to get at him. Potts could smell the thing’s rancid breath, while some of its drool came down on his shirt. The thing seemed to be smiling at him as if it was a child having its first piece of birthday cake.
The creature took both hands and began to pull the metal apart. It squealed and grunted as the fence began to give. It pulled two more times…one more and it would give. Potts was about to remove his thumb from the hammer and pull the trigger, when he heard a high voice scream a name. There was nothing for a few seconds, when the
thing, that was now on its knees and smiling, its tongue hanging out, and about to tear through the fence, suddenly got a confused look on its face, then let out a yelp. The thing howled and began to hang onto the fence, not because it was trying to get at Potts, but because something had a hold of it, and was pulling it away. The thing howled in pain right in Potts’ face. It almost had a look of helplessness, when suddenly it was dragged backwards and off of the fence. Potts crawled out from under the fence and jumped to his feet in time to see Joe on the creature’s back, tearing at its skin as it yelped.
Lauren had run out of the hospital to help. She had seen the thing on top of Potts. She yelled for help, but there was so much chaos going on around her in the near dark, that no one heard her. She wanted to go help the Colonel herself, but she knew it would be futile. She felt panic beginning to set in, because that thing was going to be at his throat at any moment. She heard a noise coming from the woods. It was Joe who was standing in front of the woods, keeping one of the bite victims at bay. Lauren looked back at Potts, then back toward the woods.
“Joe!” she had yelled as loud as she could. “Joe! Come!”
Upon hearing Lauren’s voice, the dog immediately pricked up its ears as high as it could, which was only about three-quarters. He looked back at the bite victim who only had a few yards to go before it was in the woods. It was when she called a second time that he was certain whom the voice belonged to.
Joe sprinted across the field, leaving the bite victim to escape to the woods. He sprinted so fast, he was across the field in seconds. As he neared the front of the pen, Lauren ran toward him, then stopped and pointed toward the front fence where the thing had Potts pinned. Joe took a left, then gave three good leaps before flying through the air and landing on top of the creature. Snarling and growling, the canine clamped his jaws on the thing’s back calf, then pulled and tore at the same time.
Potts and Lauren watched as Joe dragged the thing around by its leg like a rag doll. The beast yelped and howled, which caused Lauren to immediately cover her ears. Potts was even wincing a bit. The sound of a canine in pain was even hard for him to take.