The Hybrid Series | Book 2 | Hunted

by Stead, Nick

  This might not have been the first time when the carefully defined edges between human and wolf had blurred, but it had never been to this extent before. Even when the Slayers had locked me up and I’d temporarily become a primitive beast, the wolf had still been there in my subconsciousness, a separate entity. The sudden collapse and merging of our two identities seemed to have caused a shock to my system, one that was a great deal more damaging than even my first transformation. It was exacting a greater toll on my mind than any other trial I’d endured, and surely led the way to true madness and my eventual demise. Not that I was really aware of this at the time; my thoughts were still slow and a struggle to form. My mind spoke to me in simplistic images driven by the hunger, images being the only thing it could grasp, a universal language. So I staggered away towards the sounds of life and prey, and the next meal.

  I advanced on a building full of humans, intent on turning it into the next slaughterhouse, when a new sound reached me. Before it had been simply noise, discarded by my brain since it was neither threat nor prey. Yet the closer I got, the louder it became, and the more meaning it held.

  The beat pounded against my eardrums, working its way through to a specific part of my mind that had nothing to do with the hunger. Music that had meant so much to the boy I used to be called to a part of me, a call to rival that of the moon. It reached that human part of my brain and the boy grew stronger, strong enough to free himself from the confused mess my mind had been reduced to. The wall slammed back into place and clarity returned.

  I fell against the building from the second shock of being cut off from the wolf again. It took me a moment to recover, confusion reigning at the sudden turn of events. I looked down at my body to find it human, naked and covered in fresh blood. That only added to my bewilderment. I looked back up for the moon that should have been trapping me in wolf form, and found no hint of it in the cloud cover. But I could still feel it up there. So why had I changed back?

  My memories were murky, but I had a vague sense of where I’d left Lady Sarah. I knew I should find her and travel back to the isolation of the moors, where the Slayers were less likely to pick up our trail. It was a wonder I hadn’t run into them again already.

  I stumbled away, guided by only the faintest sense of direction. The smell of death greeted me as I drew closer. I was definitely in the right part of the town, but Lady Sarah was long gone.

  Pain erupted in my shoulder and I gave a roar of surprise. I looked down to find a hole opened up in my flesh, fresh blood flowing from it and mixing with the older blood already staining my skin. The Slayers had caught up with me after all, and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a fight. My only hope was to lose them and flee back to the moors, and just pray the vampire would be waiting for me when I returned.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Last Orders

  My shoulder throbbed as I ran. Blood flowed faster with the movement but I didn’t trust myself to start transforming to heal it. Not when I would be at the mercy of the full moon. I’d only detected two Slayers so far but in a large town like this it couldn’t be long before more appeared. Losing control was the last thing I needed, if I was to have any hope of evading my pursuers.

  Bullets continued to rip through the night. I weaved through the network of deserted streets, hoping to put some distance between us before heading for the countryside where there would be less cover. My enemies’ footfalls thundered after me, loud and threatening. But they were only human. It didn’t take long for the sounds of pursuit to grow fainter, their guns all but useless with the walls now between us.

  My wound sapped my strength and my breathing turned ragged. I began to slow, when a new bullet thundered into the wall by my ear. My head whipped round to find another pair stepping out of an alley, their faces darkening with hate as our eyes met. Almost as one, their guns shifted to realign with my skull, and my gaze was drawn to the twin barrels promising a quick and bloody end. Instinct took over and I dived to the pavement, cursing as the rough surface stripped away patches of my skin. Two more bullets split the air where my head had been just seconds ago.

  I sprang back up and forced myself onwards. Another pair appeared moments later.

  “Give me a break!” I growled, veering away and down a new street.

  Even with my great lupine stamina and supernatural powers, I couldn’t keep this up all night. My head was growing lighter with blood loss and my muscles were weakening. I was slowing again, and I didn’t think I had the energy to do anything about it. My body was nearing the last of its reserves.

  I staggered on, pushing for the edge of the town. The air was growing noticeably cleaner as I neared the rural outskirts, and no more Slayers appeared to cut me off. Relief swept through me. It looked like I’d lost them.

  I came to a stop, panting and shaking. Dare I risk the transformation now? I was about to, when the drone of a helicopter cut through the night. My eyes closed and my head tilted back. A moment’s peace – was it too much to ask?

  The helicopter was drawing closer. I opened my eyes to see the lights heading towards me, leaving me no choice but to keep going.

  Running for the moors no longer seemed to be an option. The Slayers would have an easier time of tracking me by air and the last thing I wanted was to lead them to Lady Sarah’s daytime resting place. That left finding some place to hide, and just hoping the search would be called off by daybreak. The Slayers didn’t want either ours or their existence to be public knowledge. There was a good chance they wouldn’t want to risk drawing too much attention to themselves by continuing the hunt into the day.

  So I took a deep breath and stumbled on, fighting to remain conscious. It felt like a losing battle. The chopper followed my every move, drawing closer by the minute. It reminded me of the wildlife programmes I’d watched as a human, where camera crews would film wolf hunts, following the entire pack so the viewer could see how they worked together to bring the prey down. Except this was no camera crew observing from above. For all I knew, they had a sniper attempting to line up a shot and take me down in the safety of their machine.

  I was so intent on trying to escape the helicopter’s sights that I didn’t notice the fresh danger waiting for me on the ground. Another bullet grazed my cheek as I blundered into more of my enemies. I barely escaped, and before long there were teams of them waiting for me at every twist and turn, forcing me deeper into the town as they shepherded me back towards its centre. It might as well have been a wolf pack hunt now, one in which I had become the prey. And escape was looking less and less likely.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, it struck me how there were no civilians around. The lack of human shields only added to my dismay. It seemed my hunters were one step ahead of me in every sense of the phrase that night. They must have found a way to close off the section of town they were forcing me through, and I had to accept I was truly on my own this time. There would be no help from anyone, voluntary or otherwise.

  Just as I felt I could go no further, I found myself forced to run down an alley with a wall in the middle – a dead end for a human. I could hear the Slayers closing in behind, but with a wave of despair I also picked up more heading to block off any escape from the other side as well.

  My strength was all but spent as I stood there panting and trying to think of a way out. The Slayers on my side of the wall would be on me in minutes, but on the other side they seemed to be a little slower getting into position from what I could tell. Climbing over was a desperate move but what choice did I have? I was in no shape to make a stand, and there was nowhere left to run. I had to at least try to reach the other end of the alley before my enemies could trap me in there from both ends.

  My vision swam again and I fell into the wall, on the verge of collapse. There was nothing for it. I was going to have to call on the transformation to heal me before I made my next move, and pray I didn’t lose myself to another bout of madness.

  The throbbing intensified and
it wasn’t just my shoulder. I felt like my wolf form was trying to break free of its human prison with the need to answer the moon’s call. My muscles tensed and the ache deepend. I willed the wound to close over quicker, aware of the precious seconds I was losing while it pushed the bullet out and knitted back together. Never before had it seemed so painfully slow, and my heart quickened with worry at the sound of my enemies just around the corner.

  Finally the pain eased as the bullet fell to the floor and the flesh rolled back into one flawless whole. The moon stayed hidden behind the clouds and my self-control remained, for now at least.

  My enemies were almost on me – I could hear them advancing more cautiously as they drew nearer to the mouth of the alley, probably well aware I would put up a fight to the bitter end. It was now or never if I wanted to seize my chance of survival, no matter how slim. So I began to climb, allowing my nails to become claws which sunk into the brick with ease.

  I was horribly aware of how exposed and vulnerable I was as I clambered up, but I made it to the top before the humans opened fire. Bullets shot towards me as I swung myself over, and I just managed to drop to the other side before they could hit me again. It was to find I wasn’t alone.

  One of the women had already reached the alley, and her allies couldn’t be far behind her. She raised her pistol, and I met her eyes with defeat. This was it. My time was about to come. All I could do was make one last stand and try to drag as many as I could down with me before the life drained from my cursed body. It was only fitting, I supposed. I’d been born into a bloody fate and reborn through violence. There was a certain rightness to an equally brutal end.

  Defeat turned to determination and my gaze turned bolder as I prepared for my final battle, expecting her to squeeze the trigger at any moment. But she didn’t shoot. A flicker of something passed across her eyes. Uncertainty, perhaps?

  From the other side of the wall came the shouts of the others. It seemed they knew she was already in position and could guess something had stalled her, because one of them was screaming “Take the shot! What are you waiting for?”

  The woman didn’t so much as blink. Her eyes were fixed on mine, and I thought I could guess what was holding her back. She’d joined the Slayers to fight the monsters that had probably taken someone close to her, but even though I was naked and bloody, I still looked human in shape. I didn’t look half as much the monster I would’ve been if I’d taken the transformation any further. She was far from the psychopath Aughtie had been. Her empathy allowed her to see only the fifteen year old boy, and realising that, I tried to make my features as human as possible, letting the bestial snarl that came so easily melt back into my face.

  “Take the shot!” a man yelled at her again. “Come on you silly cow – take the shot!”

  The gun began to shake in the woman’s hand. I knew it was time to make my move and I charged forward, her finger squeezing the trigger on reflex. It was rushed, desperate. The bullet didn’t even come close to hitting me.

  I leapt and knocked her to the ground, landing on top of her with one hand pinning down her firearm, and striking her with the other. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body went limp, unconscious. My hunger roared for blood but for once reason ruled me. The other Slayers were coming and I needed to make myself scarce before they trapped me in the alley. So I left her intact and started running again.

  Cursing came from behind and more bullets tore through the darkness. I quickened my pace, finding new strength now my shoulder was healed.

  The helicopter was still circling overhead but they obviously hadn’t expected me to escape their trap. I sensed more Slayers hurrying into position on the streets ahead and pushed myself harder still. At full sprint, they couldn’t cut me off quick enough. My feet left the rough man-made surfaces and landed on the soothing softness of grass, much more pleasant, despite the frosty soil beneath. It looked like I might survive the night after all.

  The wintry gales were more noticeable out in the open than they had been in the town, especially to my naked human form. I shivered at their mercy, thinking longingly of shelter but so far finding none.

  It looked like I might have lost the Slayers. The drone of the helicopter had faded and the flash of its lights were nowhere to be seen. I had to be sure before I returned to the moors though, so I pushed on, hoping to stumble across some natural shelter to spend the rest of the night in.

  Artificial light appeared at the edge of the darkness – another rural village. I knew the safest course would be to turn away and head deeper into the countryside, but my limbs were beginning to tremble with cold and more exhaustion, and the warm glow looked so inviting. Where there was light there would be heat. A brief respite, that’s all I asked for. Even just a handful of minutes out of the frigid air would be welcome. Could fate not allow me that?

  Music thumped somewhere nearby. I realised it was a song I knew – one of Metallica’s rather than Alice Cooper but still an awesome song. Screaming guitars and heavy drums drew me to the building it came from, filling me with a greater longing for the life I’d left behind. Then came the sounds of glasses chinking and chairs sliding across the floor, and the murmur of human voices enjoying a drink and a chat. It was another pub, set a little way out from the heart of the village, but still within staggering distance for the locals. The feeling of remoteness to it only added to its allure.

  I listened to those noises filtering out of the old stone walls and suddenly realised how much I missed good company and my music, and the odd beer my parents had allowed me. Was it so wrong for me to seek that again?

  The pub came into view just as the song ended. That broke the spell. My heart grew heavy with the knowledge I could never know such pleasures again, and I turned away, intending to return to the empty blackness where I belonged. Then a new song started, and it was another I recognised. I couldn’t resist the temptation.

  Whatever this place was, they knew good music. I almost laughed at the irony of it. When I’d been free to come and go in such places as I pleased, nowhere ever seemed to play anything decent. But now I was forced to live as an outsider, I’d discovered not one but two pubs playing exactly what I wanted to hear, and I wouldn’t be able to frequent either often enough to enjoy it. Fate was beyond cruel.

  The song called to me in the same way the moon called to the wolf. I found myself approaching the front of the building, and I didn’t have the strength to turn away again. My desperation for a return to my old life was too strong. I was sinking back into the dream of humanity, and its grip was so powerful that I forgot about my feral appearance, wishing only to be a part of the world I’d known seemingly so long ago. It filled me with the belief that I would be safe inside those four walls, sheltered from both my pursuers and the elements, at least till the pub closed. My hands pushed against the door before my brain could intervene.

  Banter and laughter among the locals greeted me. The inside was crammed with around fifteen to twenty humans, propping up the bar and crowding round the small tables as they nursed their pints of beer and cider. I paused on the threshold, as though there were an invisible barrier separating us. Then my favourite line of the song called out loud and clear, and I could only obey. I took that final step inside.

  Silence fell, broken only by the sound of someone receiving a text. All eyes turned towards me. The inviting atmosphere died in an instant. They had only shocked stares for the stranger framed in the doorway.

  Too late, I remembered the lack of clothes needed to blend in. Living with lycanthropy for over a year had removed any inhibitions I’d had about being naked in public, and I made no attempt to cover myself. But I was conscious of my bloodstained skin, and I stared back, wary and uncomfortable.

  “Oh my God, you poor boy!” the landlady cried, grabbing a blanket from beneath the bar and rushing forward to wrap it round me. To the drinkers she snapped “Stop staring at him!”

  I hadn’t expected to be treated with kindness
. Not after seeing so much of the darkness of humanity, and given my wild appearance. But it seemed she had immediately assumed the blood was my own, and as with the woman who’d hesitated to shoot me, she saw only the adolescent boy of my physical form, not the monster lurking beneath. Her mothering instincts kicked in.

  She steered me away from the door. Most of her customers had the decency to look away, returning to their conversations in hushed tones. I didn’t need supernaturally enhanced hearing to know what they were discussing. No doubt I would be the talk of the village for weeks to come.

  “Now, you take a seat here by the fire and warm up. Whatever were you doing out in the cold? Where are your parents?”

  “Dead,” I lied.

  “Oh I’m sorry, love,” she said, and she sounded genuine. Her face radiated pity. “All this blood; how did you hurt yourself?”

  I looked away. The emptiness gaped wider than ever, all the more noticeable now for the brief mingling of my two personalities, and the reminder of what it was to feel the bloodlust. It must have given me a haunted look, for the landlady didn’t press me for any more information, instead bringing me a glass of water and then returning to her place behind the bar.

  One of the men leaned closer to her, keeping his voice low. “And what do you plan to do with the boy now?”

  “I couldn’t just turn him away, Jim. The street’s no place for children. He looks like he’s been through hell.”