by Unknown
Arthur grabbed Vasilisa around the waist as he ran, lifting her off the ground.
An engine revved and a Jeep raced out from an alleyway, Lance at the wheel.
"Let's get the hell out of here," he said.
The wolves charged them.
"Ivan!" Billi pulled him toward the Jeep. She kicked one startled werewolf in the jaw, catching its tongue in its teeth. Old Gray leaped among the Polenitsy in a frenzy of fangs and claws.
Gwaine and Mordred sprinted into the school building while arrow after arrow from Gareth's regular supply flew in among the werewolves. Billi understood immediately: the three Templars would cover the retreat, forcing the werewolves to advance under a flight of arrows. Already two werewolves lay still in the reddening snow, arrows lodged in their throats and eye sockets. As Billi ran, more arrows darted through the darkening sky as Gwaine and Mordred added their volleys to Gareth's onslaught.
Billi's heart raced as she threw herself into the passenger seat, expecting to have her back torn open to the bone any second. Arthur tossed Vasilisa in beside her and squeezed in next. Ivan slammed the front passenger door shut as a pair of claws ripped across the windshield.
"Seat belts!" Lance shouted as the Jeep's engine roared.
Two werewolves clambered onto the hood, then yelled as they were ripped off. Gray took one across the throat and hurled it into the pack. Its fur was crisscrossed by bleeding wounds and its jaw slavering red. Gray was defending them from her sisters.
The sky turned twilight dark as the moon slid halfway across the sun's face. The car jumped forward and accelerated away from the crowd of werewolves. Gray snapped at the arm of one, then she too turned and ran, loping easily alongside the Jeep. Billi glanced in the side mirror and saw a dozen wolves spring into the chase.
She checked Vasilisa, who sat beside her sobbing. She didn't look hurt, just scared. Beside the girl was Arthur, twisted around so he could watch out of the rear. His leather jacket creaked as he stretched his shoulders, and his fingers fidgeted around the wire bindings of the sword hilt.
Ivan, beside Lance, put his revolver on the dashboard as he adjusted his sword belt. Then he wiped his hands on his lap and took up the big gun. He winked at Billi.
The car hit an ice patch and skidded sideways, the rear turning a full circle before bumping against a tree.
"Down!" shouted Ivan, glancing back at the werewolves descending upon them.
Vasilisa screamed as werewolves slammed into the rear. The Jeep jumped from the impact, then crashed back down with bone-jarring force. The glass blew apart and there was an ear-piercing cry as a wolf went down.
"Any time now would be good," said Arthur to Lance as the wheels spun uselessly on the ice.
"Merde," swore Lance, jamming the vehicle into reverse and barreling over the surprised wolves. The Jeep jolted, and they heard a crunch and a yelp from under it.
"Nasty," muttered Arthur. Something slammed onto the top of the car, and he shoved his sword through the roof. The sword caught, and he pushed harder. Blood trickled through the tear, and a body tumbled off.
Lance shoved the wheel around and took them down a dark alleyway.
Arthur peered at Ivan. "How are you doing, lad?"
Ivan was dripping with sweat, and blood seeped through his trousers. All the running had reopened the wound on his leg, but his face didn't betray his pain.
"Not dead yet," he replied.
"Where to?" Billi asked. They'd lost the wolves, but it was only a matter of minutes before they were sniffed out.
"We patch you up, then fly you and Vasilisa right to Jerusalem," answered Arthur. "We've got the girl away from them. That's more than we'd hoped for. There's a helicopter parked near the reactor. The other team will keep the Polenitsy busy for a while longer."
"And there's still this." Billi pulled out the last stone-tipped arrow. Her bow was across her lap now, and she plucked the taut bowstring. Maybe the arrowhead wasn't as well fixed as the others, but it could still do the job.
Billi looked again at Arthur, Vasilisa, and Ivan. She had three people she cared about right here. And she was going to do everything she could to save them.
Chapter 41
"ANYTHING?" ASKED LANCE.
Billi peered out the rear window. No wolves. "We've lost them." They'd lost Olga too. She must have fallen back to fight her fellow werewolves. "What about Gwaine and the others?" she asked.
Arthur wiped his sword with his sleeve. "They'll meet us at the rendezvous."
"Bon." Lance took his foot off the accelerator to get his bearings. Half the road signs were gone or too rusted to be legible. Arthur put his hand on Billi's arm, and she winced.
"Show me your arm," he said.
Billi rolled up her sleeve and looked at the wound.
Black lumps covered the bite marks, and thick veins pulsed just beneath her skin. The wound itself smelled of damp, rotten earth.
Arthur drew a sharp breath.
"What d'you think?" Billi asked. She felt sick looking at the bite marks. It was like she had the plague. The skin around them was hot and red, feverish.
Arthur said nothing, but reached under the seat and pulled out a plastic box. The moment he took the lid off, Billi sighed with relief. Elaine's stinking poultices. The smell made her eyes water, but right now the musky odor was sweeter than any perfume.
"We'll patch you up right and proper," he said, but Billi could hear the tension in his voice.
Was it too late?
Just then Billi caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. A tree—a thick oak—tilted. It twitched, shaking snow off its branches as though it were awakening. The pavement around it cracked and rose up in a shower of dirt and concrete as it leaned over. The boughs swayed, groaning as they bent like reeds, sweeping toward the approaching car.
A massive branch slammed across the side of the Jeep, catapulting it into the air. Billi was tossed around as the Jeep rolled over and over. The windows exploded and the metal frame screeched, flinging Billi against the back, then she was hurled forward, caught by the seat belt. She grabbed hold of Vasilisa, trying her best to cover the little girl's body with her own.
Then the car stopped. Billi hung upside clown as it came to rest on its roof. Her ears buzzed, and she tried to shake the fuzz out of her head. It took a few seconds for her focus to come back.
Outside, Baba Yaga slammed down to the earth. The ground around her cracked, and Shockwaves spread out across the snow. She looked over at the upturned Jeep, moonlight catching on her grinning teeth. She bent her arm, slowly flexing her fingers. The tree branches responded, bursting through the glass and piercing the car's bodywork. Baba Yaga pressed her hands together and pushed the Jeep deeper into the ground.
Vasilisa lay on the ceiling, crying. Loudly.
That's good, Billi thought. She sounds very much alive.
Shouting. People were shouting. Billi fumbled around for the belt catch and dropped out with a click.
Arthur reached in and grabbed Billi's hand.
"Are you okay?" He stared at her, terrified. Billi nodded.
"Vasilisa... " she said. Arthur understood. Billi crawled out as he wrenched the passenger door open. The metal buckled as the tree leaned its thickest boughs into the steel frame. Arthur lifted Vasilisa out.
"I'm okay." Her smock was torn and she had small cuts on her hands and knees. Her necklaces and jewelry hung in tatters.
"Ivan?" Billi lay on her belly and desperately looked for signs of life.
Ivan groaned and unbuckled his seat belt. He dropped out of the Jeep and yelled in pain upon landing. "This is becoming a habit," he muttered. Billi helped him up.
"Thank you," he said. His sleeve had been ripped to the cuff, so he took off his coat and threw it aside. His white shirt clung to his sweaty chest as he flicked open the gun barrel and checked that the revolver wasn't damaged.
Lance crawled out the opposite side, pulling his sword out after him. He held up Ivan's o
wn sword. Ivan shook his head.
Lance took a sword in each hand and joined Arthur to face the ancient witch.
Baba Yaga stood at the far end of the street, and cried in victory as the Jeep bent double under the pressure of the tree. The hood popped and folded like a book. Oil and gasoline spewed out as the engine cracked. Baba Yaga shot up her arm, and the oak tree sprang up straight. The branches shivered, then settled. They weren't getting away from her again.
The ancient witch flicked back her cloak and banged her stick on the icy ground. The sound echoed between the concrete walls and spread out across the still night sky. In the near distance it was answered by howls. The Polenitsy were on their way, coming from all directions. Baba Yaga lifted her stick and cried out to her werewolves.
Billi took a few steps before falling down. Her head felt heavy and swollen. Ivan slung his arm under hers and brought her to her feet. She rested against him, her head throbbing.
"Bloody hell," whispered Billi. The moon rose, fat and full, bathing the tomb of mankind's nuclear folly with its dead light.
Chernobyl.
The old reactor was encased with huge concrete blocks. Millions of tons had been used to bury the radioactive heart of the disaster, and the sarcophagus was nearly a hundred feet high. Dark patches of leaked contaminants smeared the sides of the walls, and some areas had been crudely patched with steel panels, themselves now deeply corroded. The perimeter walls were topped with rusty barbed wire.
The city, now the domain of beasts, erupted with fevered cries. Then, from the side streets, the Polenitsy emerged. Wolves, howling and snapping their yellow fangs, ran at them. The Jeep's one unbroken headlight lit a bright path along the road, straight to them. The wolves wove in and out of the darkness. Billi's hand fell on her bow and a handful of spilled arrows, but not the one she wanted. She needed the stone-tipped one, and began searching. Where was it?
"Billi." Ivan tapped her shoulder, the arrow in his hand. "You should keep a closer eye on your gear."
She could have kissed him. Instead she snatched the arrow and put it to her bow. The witch was over forty yards away. She needed to get a lot closer.
Billi glanced at her dad as he stepped out between the wolves and the car. He'd cast off his coat so he could fight freely, and the Templar Sword rested comfortably in his hand. Lance stood beside him, slowly turning his two swords, loosening his wrists.
"Billi!" shouted Ivan as the gunfire exploded.
Armed men ran down the road toward them. Koshchey led, flanked by two Bogatyrs, rifle in his hands. The other men drew hand weapons and met the werewolves, their steel against the lycanthropes' claws. Koshchey pointed at them, and a group of Bogatyrs broke into a run.
They've come for Vasilisa, thought Billi. She glanced at Ivan. And revenge. Koshchey had been humiliated and Ivan was still alive.
"Come on!" Ivan grabbed Vasilisa and Billi, and they fled into a building across from the plant's main gate while Arthur and Lance fought back-to-back.
The moon's light shone through the broken wall of the single-story office they'd entered. Billi stepped deep into the shadow, but the moonlight shone into her soul, on the Beast Within.
The arrow clattered on the wooden floor.
Her fingers curl. Billi stares, breath caught, as black hairs push through her skin and begin to cover the backs of her hands. She screams until her throat is torn and hoarse as her spine stretches against the mail. She wants to tear at the armor, desperate to rip it off, for the metal bums her and the clothes smother.
Ivan grabbed Billi's arms and held her up. He stared at Billi, but her eyes filled with a red haze, and his face faded. She could see the heat rising from his exhalations, hear the warm blood running through his body. She smelled the adrenaline, the fear, and the desire that soaked him.
"Stay with us," he urged. "You are not a beast."
I am not a beast.
She repeated it over and over.
The floor trembled, and long cracks broke along the wall and ceiling. Brittle plaster sprinkled down, and the floorboards under their feet splintered. Vasilisa curled up and sobbed.
"The goddess is here."
The fighting had stopped. Billi shook her head, trying to focus. The trees outside creaked, and the wind rustled through the empty streets.
Billi's hair flickered as the breeze rose. The office quivered and the desks and chairs rattled and slid across the room.
Deep long cracks opened along the walls, and the roof rattled its tiles loose. The floorboards bent and snapped one by one. Then the walls exploded. Billi threw herself toward Vasilisa, but something foil from above, knocking her aside. Ivan shouted, but was drowned out as the building crumbled. All Billi could do was cover her head with her arms as the ceiling collapsed and she vanished under the avalanche of tiles and timber. She choked on the dust that filled her lungs, and a deep drumming echoed in her ears.
The avalanche seemed to go on and on. Billi, submerged in debris, had managed to crawl under a gap made by two cupboards landing on each other.
Where's Ivan?
Where's Vasilisa?
She tried to call out, but could only cough. Eventually, when the noise had subsided, Billi began to drag herself out. A layer of broken roof slates covered the rubble, and Billi started sliding them aside.
"Vasilisa?" Billi called.
A deep black mass rose from the ruined building. Tap tap tap went a staff on the cracked concrete and rotten wood. Black eyes, old and so full of evil, glistened with victory. Baba Yaga used her claws to dig through the rubble. She tossed large lumps of brick and block behind her like packing foam.
"Vasilisa!" Billi cried as she struggled to push herself free of the debris.
Baba Yaga reached into the dark pit and dragged Vasilisa out of the devastation.
Chapter 42
ARTHUR AND LANCE WERE SURROUNDED BY WOLVES. A Bogatyr charged Baba Yaga, his rifle blazing. The bullets merely sparked against her skin. With one hand she snapped her fingers around his neck and popped his head off. The body stumbled another two steps, then slumped, its neck pumping scarlet into the dirty snow. Vasilisa screamed as Baba Yaga dragged her away from the collapsed building.
The Bogatyrs were retreating. Men and wolves lay dead, some killed fleeing, others locked in their death fury. But the wolves were slowly gaining the upper hand. Billi watched as two werewolves broke through a gap and launched themselves at her father. His sword took one in the gullet, but the second knocked him down. Lance's swords stabbed into the wolf's side, and the monster was tossed away.
Gwaine, Mordred, and Gareth came charging down the street. Their arrows all spent, they launched into the melee, Gwaine swinging his ax in great skull-smashing arcs as they fought their way to the Templar Master.
Billi tried to heave herself up, but every muscle felt shredded. She managed to slide a beam far enough to crawl out of the rubble. Her armor was in tatters, and blood dripped from a cut on her forehead. The taste of it stung her lips.
Baba Yaga took her prisoner away from the ruined building as Vasilisa screamed and struggled in the old crone's grip.
Red leaped across the broken rubble. She sniffed the ground and her emerald eyes rose to meet Billi's.
Rage filled Billi's heart. Her head swam with fury.
"Get out of my way," Billi snarled.
Red stalked closer. Then the broken concrete between them parted, and Ivan reached out, revolver in his hand. He fired at Red, point-blank and straight into her belly. She stumbled back as he put two rounds into her.
But she did not fall.
Ivan rose to his feet, both hands on the gun, as she sprang. He pushed the revolver barrel against Red's stomach, and two muffled explosions went off in rapid succession. Red rammed her claws into his chest as she roared with savage hatred. Ivan tilted backward, firing again and catching the werewolf in the chest.
Red spasmed, and bright blood spilled from her abdomen as her body changed. The hair began to sink
away into her pale flesh, and the limbs twisted under the pulsing skin. Ivan lay on his back, fingers still locked around the gun, his chest torn and bleeding heavily. Billi stepped toward him and touched his face. His eyes closed and he sighed.
Then nothing.
"Ivan?" She put her fingers to his still lips. "Ivan!"
No no no. Not again. Billi pressed her fists against her head, though she wanted to scream.
"Billi!"
Vasilisa raised her head. She stared at Billi, eyes gigantic with terror. Baba Yaga lifted the girl and licked her great iron fangs. Her jaw ground like steel plates as she opened her mouth wider and wider, almost bending her head back like a mantrap.
Billi looked once at Ivan, then searched the dusty ruins frantically. She got on to her hands and knees and looked among the broken slabs and bricks for her weapon. Then she saw it, wedged under a fallen cupboard.
Somehow the bow had survived. A long crack ran down the wood, but the string was still wire-taut.
The arrow lay beneath two slabs a yard away. Billi spotted it through a narrow gap that had been left as the wall and roof collided. Vasilisa screamed and Billi glanced back. The little girl was trying to fight, but couldn't resist the strength of the ancient crone. Vasilisa kicked furiously as she was lowered headfirst into the old monster's maw.
The moon was full, and with one snap of her jaws, Baba Yaga would consume all of Vasilisa, her flesh, blood, and her powers.
Billi wanted to run and tear at the witch, but she fought the mindless urge. She screamed in anger and frustration as she reached through the gap, her fingers outstretched, vainly reaching for the arrow. A tremor ran across the ground, and the slabs slid closer together and pinched Billi's arm. If they moved much more, it would be severed.
Billi watched the two avatars. One ancient, decrepit, wise, and evil; the other a frail child. She pushed her shoulder into the hole and stretched her fingers as far as she could. Dust foil over her as she wormed deeper into the rubble. The slabs slid another inch closer together.
She touched smooth wood and jerked her hand out as the two huge chunks of concrete slammed together.