Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf

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Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf Page 18

by Tufo, Mark


  “The rest?” one of the herders asked.

  “Is it not feeding time?” Xavier asked as he strode out.

  It was midday when the Lycan left a smoldering Harbor’s Town. The crying as mothers mourned for their lost children was compounded upon by the cries of the ones that harbored the guilt for bringing this calamity upon them.

  CHAPTER 13 - Mike Journal Entry Eight

  I was down from the small enclosure almost at the same time the moon crested below the tree line.

  “Time to pack,” I said to Azile as I helped her down the ladder.

  “Just because nothing happened here, does not mean something did not happen,” Azile said, seemingly angry that she had been proven wrong from the events.

  She was not really seeing the bigger picture that, if she had been right, many people would have died last night. Could be part of the reason she was named the Red Witch, but I sure wasn’t going to say anything.

  Bailey met us as she came down from one of the other towers. She looked exhausted. “Do not leave until I talk with the council. They will convene within the next few hours.”

  I didn’t personally see the necessity in waiting, the sooner we were out of here the sooner I could go back to wherever I was going back to. The world now had Lycan, Werewolves, and whatever Watchers were, I should have stayed in Maine. Right now, that sounded like the best idea. The Micmac sounded like right good neighbors at this point.

  The council did convene before noon, but whatever they were talking about was now running into the dinner hours.

  “They wish to talk to you,” Bailey said, coming to get us.

  I was lying on my bed pretending to rest. Azile kept staring out the window, perhaps looking for a sign. Maybe the Watchers, a one-eyed Raven, maybe even a black cat, I didn’t know.

  “Then we can go?” I asked.

  A haggard looking Bailey looked back at me.

  ***

  “We received a rider,” the lead councilwoman said.

  My blood chilled, I had only been kidding when I said Azile was looking for a sign…and now here it was. She had said the words so gravely, I knew whatever she said next would not be welcome news.

  “Harbor’s Town has been attacked,” she added.

  “How many casualties?” Azile asked.

  “All of them.” The councilwoman was almost crying.

  I was a little slow on the uptake, any casualty would be considered a death and would be thrown in there with ‘all of them.’ Unless, she was referring to how many had died. I wanted clarification.

  “How many lived?” I asked.

  “Not more than a handful, they fled to Wheatonville where the rider was dispatched from,” she said burying her face in her hands.

  “How is that possible? We were just there,” I said to Azile. “Has to be fifty miles. He must have pushed that horse hard.”

  “We now know where the Watchers were headed.”

  “Hope they had a great show,” I said, more than a little pissed off.

  “It was exactly as you had said it would be…hundreds of werewolves handled by their Lycan masters. They took the survivors and killed the children. Slaughtered and ate them in the church.”

  Azile turned away.

  “What must we do?” the councilwoman asked. “They would have decimated our city had they attacked here last night instead of Harbor’s Town.”

  “What you should have been doing the first time I came before you!” Azile spat. “Do you think I roam the countryside crying wolf because I seek attention? I should have forced you into action. That will be something I will have to live with. You and this council, on the other hand, will have to live with your own inaction. I will be back before the third full moon. If I am not, I have been lost. Either way, you must improve your defenses, train your people, and seek out other cities to build an army the likes of which this new world has never seen.

  “It’s always war,” I said as we hit the road once again. “That is the nature of man. If not the Lycan threat, one town would feel another was using some of their resources…whether it was land or water. Or perhaps gold will be rediscovered in one of these mountains and there will be a dispute. Man knows no other way, Azile. Why are you in such a rush to preserve that?”

  “I still have my soul, Michael,” she said, turning towards me.

  “Well, that was just a low blow,” Bailey said to me. Azile kept riding.

  “I know, right?” I said back.

  “I do not see why I must go back home,” Lana entreated for at least the twentieth time.

  I, for one, would be happy to drop her ass off. I felt like a letch every time she looked at me.

  “We have been through this, Lana,” Azile said, trying to soothe Lana’s ruffled feathers. “You must convince your father to join with humanity.”

  “The riders have been krs ers. sent. What more can I add?” she pleaded.

  “You are his daughter, your word carries weight. You will have firsthand knowledge.”

  “I have no such thing,” Lana replied.

  “You will,” Azile told her.

  “We’re going to Harbor’s Town?” I asked Bailey, overhearing Azile’s words.

  “It would appear that way. I believe she wishes to convince more than just the girl.”

  “How much of BT do you have in you?” I asked, looking her up and down.

  As we rode, I passed a pouting Lana who would not even look my way. That was actually an improvement. I caught up to Azile’s lead.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “That’s a very broad question, Mr. Talbot. Are you asking why I kissed you?” she asked with a smile.

  “Are you trying to get me knifed in the back?” I looked back, making sure Lana didn’t hear.

  “We are shielded. She has not heard.”

  “How powerful are you?”

  “We will see. I believe my biggest tests are yet to come.”

  ***

  Birds circled the town in great concentric circles. The stench was one with which I was all too familiar. Smoke drifted up from a dozen different areas. Huge swaths of blood blanketed entire walls of structures that still stood. Bodies were strewn about in all manner of pose, with no sanctity for the dignity of the essence the shell once housed. Men were eviscerated, some still clinging to their hemorrhaging innards. Throats were ripped out; bodies were torn in half as if they had been frayed ropes in a tug of war that had finally given out. Some held ineffectual farm implements as weapons; most were unarmed.

  “This was a wholesale slaughter,” I said, stepping over a headless boy.

  “They did not even feed,” Tommy said.

  “This was a statement,” Azile added.

  Lana had gotten sick when she encountered her first casualty; he had been split from his groin to his chin, splayed open like the world’s most grisly pop-up book, his broken bow still clutched in his hands, the arrow still notched but never loosed. Bailey was faring better, this was not a sight for the faint of heart.

  The men had not put up much of a defense; some had been smashed against the ground, their broken bodies now being picked over by legions of carnivorous birds. I could not fault them for doing what was in their nature, but if I’d had a flamethrower I would have made them pay for the right.

  What I thought could not get worse, did, as we approached the town meeting hall. What was left of the city population had pulled back to this central location for their final stand. Bodies had fallen over bodies in this hopeless stand. They still writhed as birds fought for juicy spoils. It was then I noticed the naked bodies that none of the birds seemed interested in.

  “Werewolves?” I asked, walk kI a nakeding over to the fallen form of a small female. A pitchfork had been stuck clean through her neck.

  “Other animals will not touch them due to their infection,” Azile said, moving towards the hall.

  Oggie steered clear of the werewolves and whined whenever we passed a human. If I had my way, I’d b
e back at Talboton doing my best to erase this vision from my mind, although I don’t think they had enough on tap to do that.

  “Have we not seen enough?” I asked Azile as I heard Lana retching behind us. Bailey and Tommy were comforting her. She kept walking, and I kept following.

  The doors to the hall/church were shattered, the right one completely torn from its hinges. What awaited us inside made outside look like a walk in the park, albeit a bloody walk in the park. I could only hope the women had been shepherded out before the werewolves had done what they had. I will not go into description of the atrocities I saw there, to do so would help to further etch them into my mind, and these images needed no further help. Suffice it to say, it was among some of the cruelest imagery I had thus far encountered in my life – and I’d been through a fair amount.

  “The Lycan did this,” Azile said, bending down to look at something.

  “Directly?” I asked. “Not the werewolves?”

  “It seems they waited until the city was won and then they came in for this final deed.” Azile stood back up.

  “They are cowards. I guess that’s good to know.” I was seething.

  Azile said a few words, and a small light emanated from her hand. She tilted her hand and let it slide to the floor. “We should leave,” she said.

  That was a no-brainer considering the hostility of the place we were in, but if she thought that matchstick of a flame was dangerous, I didn’t understand her point. That was of course until I watched veins of flame lick out from the original tiny spark. Everything it touched caught instantly.

  “Neat trick,” I said as I headed for the door.

  Tommy was crying as we watched the building burn.

  The zombies did what they did because they knew no other way. They didn’t kill for the enjoyment of it; they killed for nourishment. Sure, it was an unrelenting hunger they tried to sate; but it was quite literally the nature of the beast. And that’s what I believed had happened here. A creature with cognitive thought had wrought this damage. The Lycan had killed as a display of their power; they were drunk with it.

  “You still think the world would be a better place with them running the show?” Azile asked.

  I’d seen enough. Man was a seriously flawed animal that would continually strive to find ways to kill other men in new and unusual fashions. However, I was past the point of being able to sit on the sidelines while this new threat came forward. There was no mercy in the Lycan’s actions. They would crush everything under the heel (or paw I suppose) of their war machine.

  We left Harbor’s Town in a somber mood. Even Lana did not have the compunction to argue about her return home. Maybe the thought of be kthos actiing wrapped up in her father’s arms right now actually sounded pretty good. If I could have pulled it off, I would have enjoyed it my damn self.

  When we got to Denarth we were ushered from meeting to meeting. Her father thanked me profusely for bringing his daughter home unscathed. I wasn’t so sure about that, physically she was fine, but she’d never be the same after what she’d seen. I didn’t pay much more than half my attention to any one thing people were saying. In my best of times I had a tendency to drift off, and now my thoughts kept being pulled back to that infant child that had been thrown so violently and with so much force he had been impaled on the chandelier that hung from the church’s vaulted ceiling. Was it a lucky toss or had the Lycan been trying for just that. Like a trick basketball shot?

  Azile got what she was looking for – a promise to help. Lana didn’t see us out as we left. Can’t say I blame her. If she was smart, she’d try to forget she’d ever met me…met any of us.

  “Where to?” I asked. I was downtrodden.

  “We go to see Xavier,” Azile said.

  The gears in my mind took a minute to fit the cogs together. Bailey beat me.

  “The Lycan king? You wish to bring us to the Lycan king? Has he not bloodied the soil enough?” Bailey spat out.

  “We will see him under the banner of the crescent moon,” Azile said.

  “And that means what exactly?” I asked.

  “That means he will have to listen to us without attacking. He will be honor-bound.”

  “How much honor do you believe a baby killer has?” I asked incredulously.

  “Lycan care not for people. We are a dangerous food source to them and nothing more,” Azile said.

  “Then I guess my original question still stands. Why will he honor anything when it has to do with us?” I asked.

  “He may not care about us, but he will care what the other clans think. He is trying to unite them under one cause, and if he goes against their laws he will appear weak.”

  “This sounds like a bad idea,” Bailey said. “You bring him the Red Witch and two of the Old Ones…it will be a prize too big to forfeit.”

  “What she said,” I said, pointing towards Bailey. “Except for the old part.”

  “I meant no disrespect,” she added to me. “Well…maybe a little.”

  “Whoa! For a second there you almost lost the ancestral relationship, but you brought it roaring back home,” I told her. “I agree though, Azile, you yourself have said he is bringing them under his rule by intimidation and cruelty. Why would he care if he forced them to accept this newest twist?”

  “His rule is not absolute. He cannot do as he pleases. As long as he forwards their common cause he will sit upon his forged throne. Once he breaks all ties to their traditions, they will abandon him.”

  “Are you confident of that?” Bailey asked.

  ="+0">“More or less,” Azile said.

  “More or less? Are you friggin’ kidding?” I asked incredulously. “I am not bringing my dog into that kind of situation, Azile.”

  “You can leave him with Tommy. He is our back-up plan,” Azile said. Tommy was smiling.

  “So that’s how sure you are of this working. You’ve already thought out a contingency plan? And what is it if I can be so bold?” I said. I was near to shouting.

  “It would be best if you didn’t know the particulars. The plan is not because I fear what Xavier will do, but rather what you will.” She pointed at me.

  My mouth opened, thoughts were flying about my head, but I couldn’t put any of them to voice.

  “Is this where BT would have told you to close your mouth, you’re attracting flies?” Bailey asked.

  “Yeah, something like that. You’ll need to work on your timing though,” I told her. “Everyone needs a smart ass. And they say I’m the insane one.”

  ***

  We had been on the road three days, always heading north. The pace seemed unsettlingly slow considering the urgency that the world had taken on. More than once I tried to urge Azile on a little faster. She was having none of it. The fourth night I got my answer why.

  Azile brought our small band of travelers to a halt. A man of indeterminate age was laid across the roadway up ahead.

  “Shouldn’t we go check on him?” Bailey asked.

  “He’s naked,” I said aloud.

  “Probably robbed of all his belongings,” Bailey said.

  “Or…” I stated.

  “Or he’s a Lycan,” Bailey finished.

  I heard some noise off to our right. It was quiet, but I saw Tommy react, so I figured I wasn’t imagining it. Azile looked off to our left. It was a trap – a Lycan trap. Now I figured I was among some of the best company I could be in just this event, but I would have felt a whole lot better maybe inside a tank. I wondered if my brother had one of those hidden in his doomsday locker.

  The man in the road stood, his transformation happened so fast it was difficult to remember he had at one point looked human. Other Lycan began to materialize out of the woods around us…had to have been a half dozen at least.

  We were on the precipice of an attack. It was so thick you could taste it, and to be honest, it was bitter as hell. Oggie was bristling; Bailey had her rifle at the ready. Game on, I thought, then Azile spoke.
<
br />   “I call for a Covenant of the Crescent Moon,” she said loudly with not a hint of panic in her voice. I’ll be honest, I was scared, and I think so was everyone else in our troop.

  The original Lycan seemed to sag for a moment and was rethinking his plan.

  “Come, come,” Azile said, “have the Lycan kave for a mom forgot the old ways?”

  The Lycan growled. “We have not forgotten our laws, Witch. You will have your convening…and then I will tear you open.”

  My original estimate had been low. We were surrounded by at least ten of the beasts. They had a very disturbing scent; “savage death” would be an accurate descriptor. Maybe I could market it to serial killers.

  Our pace picked up from turtle-slow to healthy trot. When we cleared the woods, I realized the reason for Azile’s malingering pace. A pale sliver of moon hung over the top of the trees. A crescent moon.

  “What are you getting us into, Azile?” I asked, coming abreast of her.

  “It is what I am trying to get us out of,” she replied, answering nothing.

  “You know about this?” I asked Tommy. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

  “No talking,” our guide said.

  “Are we not guests of this meeting?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Then I’ll damn well talk when I want to,” I told him.

  He turned and came at me. I gripped the hilt of my sword. He stopped; he was in range with his unnaturally long arms. Even with a sword drawn, I would be lucky to give him a shave. He began to sniff the air around him. I saw maybe the slightest enlargement of his eyes and then no more as he turned back. It could have been wishful thinking on my part – his whole fear thing, I mean – I could only hope it was. I was never one to rest on luck. Okay, that last part reeks with sarcasm.

  “That’s what I thought,” I told his back. “Chicken shit.”

  His shoulders hunched, Azile’s head dipped a bit. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” she hissed.

 

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