The Original's Return (Book 2): The Original's Retribution

by David Watkins

  “Could be legit,” Knowles said. He spoke slowly, the need for caution clear in his words.

  “Could be bullshit,” Raymond said. He raised the radio to his mouth again. “Bring them in. Set up a perimeter around the trucks. I want everyone fully armed, plus tranquilliser darts. Let’s take no chances.”

  Raymond looked at Knowles. “I don't like this.”

  “Me neither, sir.”

  “Let’s go. If there is any doubt, we kill everybody.”

  9

  Jack awoke with a start, but this time he was wise enough not to make a noise. He was still strapped to the bed, but he was unsure how much time had elapsed. Not much, Jackie boy, their drugs aren't working as well as they used to.

  Jack tried to ignore the Wolf, but he knew it was true. When he had first arrived in Kent, months ago, a couple of darts had been enough to stop him. Now it was four, and that hadn't put him out for long. It felt like minutes since he had last awoken.

  I can keep you awake, Jackie boy...

  The Wolf was starting to sound like Gary Edwards, the first man he had killed. But not the last. Remember that-

  Jack forced himself to recite prime numbers, pushing the Wolf back down.

  2…

  The doctor

  3…

  he tasted

  5…

  good.

  7…

  And that woman

  11…

  What was her name?

  13

  17

  19…

  23…

  Jack breathed out slowly. Silence. He looked at the tray full of scalpels again. If I stay, I am a dead man.

  He raised his head slightly and saw two soldiers standing by the door. Neither were looking at him and both stood in a way that suggested they were relaxed. They think I'm out for hours.

  Jack flexed his arms, forcing them to change, biceps growing until the straps holding him popped. They flew off him, whistling through the air until they hung impotently by the bedside. At the same time, Jack ripped the straps off his feet and he leapt for the soldier nearest him. He changed mid jump, hitting the surprised soldier before he had a chance to raise his gun. The soldier crashed into his friend, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

  The Wolf did not hang around. It burst through the doors and ran. Another two soldiers dived for cover as it emerged from the hospital room. One of them raised his gun and fired. A dart smacked into the Wolf’s hind leg, but it ran on. Down a short corridor and then it leapt at another door.

  This door exploded off its hinges, flying into the courtyard. The Wolf recognised it from earlier, but now the scene was chaos. Two large trucks sat in the middle of the parade ground. They were surrounded by about twenty armed soldiers, but the soldiers had their backs to the Wolf, aiming at the trucks.

  The backs of the trucks were open and people were staggering into the sunlight. One of them was enormously fat, and another was looking right at him. The Wolf howled: it recognised a kindred spirit. Several of the soldiers turned as he burst into the courtyard.

  The Wolf saw Knowles marching across towards the trucks. Saw his mouth open in surprise. But it was far too late. The wolves were here, and no-one was getting away this time.

  10

  Ten people got out of the trucks and stood in a line. Three of them looked wildly around, whilst the others all stared at the ground. Michael was one of those staring at the ground. He looked up and saw they were surrounded by soldiers.

  He glanced at Sally next to him. Her corpulent frame was now clothed again and she was playing the part of terrified victim well. The plan had been hatched quickly once they knew Bryant had run away. Michael knew the police would be involved, but he hadn't factored how quickly. The army had arrived soon after, their different scent clear on the breeze.

  Michael had moved quickly. He had stripped some of the bodies, mixing and matching intact clothing. Not much of it had been clear of blood, but that didn't matter. The army would execute anyone who was either in wolf form or naked. Several of the others, including Sally, cottoned on to what he was doing and joined in. The others, either drunk on the blood and feast they had had, or else too stupid to think they had any chance of surviving, had been shot by the soldiers as they stormed the building. Some had run away, but he didn't know how far they'd managed to get.

  Two of the five surviving humans had been killed in the assault. The other three were with them now - all in a state of shock. The rest lined up were wolves, and now Michael was waiting for the opportunity to attack. As soon as those rifles were lowered he would give the command. With surprise, the soldiers would not have time to react. Each wolf could take down two soldiers in a matter of seconds.

  They just needed to time it right.

  The door to a building off to his right exploded outwards, buckling and shattering as an enormous wolf burst through it. No, not a wolf. The Wolf. It’s Stadler. Michael grinned to himself as he made eye contact with the enormous beast.

  Several of the soldiers turned at the noise, and Michael knew that it was time.

  11

  Knowles marched alongside Raymond. They were moving quickly, although Knowles was fairly certain that wasn't needed: the prisoners were going nowhere.

  When they neared the courtyard, Knowles could see it was chaotic even though they were still over a hundred metres away. Ten civilians in a line, surrounded by twice that many soldiers. If the press sees this, we're in trouble.

  “Shit,” he said, “how do we know who is human?”

  “Quite,” Raymond said. “We need to contain this until we can test their blood, look for the same anomaly that was in Stadler’s.”

  “The press are already all over this.”

  “Don't state the bleeding obvious, Knowles. Unless you have a solution keep your mouth shut.”

  At that moment, the door shattered and the Wolf jumped into the courtyard. Knowles felt his mouth open in surprise, but then the chaos multiplied exponentially.

  A soldier - Patel, Knowles saw - stepped out behind the Wolf and shot it with his rifle. The tranquilliser dart hit it in the rump and it howled. It turned and swiped at Patel with a massive paw. The man flew against the wall, blood pouring out of a number of gashes in his face. Even at this distance, Knowles could see the skin hanging off the man’s cheek. Patel had not been a good looking man before but now he would actively scare people.

  The Wolf turned back to face the group around the truck. Even though he was half expecting it, Knowles was still surprised to see seven of the group change instantly. Each jumped at a different soldier, biting hard at the exposed necks. Immediately, each wolf turned to the next man and suddenly the air was filled with the screams of the dying.

  “Fuck!” Raymond roared. He fumbled for his radio but dropped it. Knowles pulled out his weapon and took aim down the sights. One of the wolves’ head exploded in a shower of red and he took aim again. More rifles popped and Knowles heard shouts of men running.

  Another wolf collapsed in a heap as bullets tore into it, but Knowles couldn't tell where the bullets had come from.

  Raymond now had his radio back in his hand and was barking orders into it.

  “Sir, we need to get you to safety,” Knowles said.

  The Wolf looked straight at him, but then its attention was diverted as a bullet ripped into its side. The Wolf howled and leapt towards the man who had fired. Taylor. It charged him with head down and the force of the blow sent him crashing into the side of the building. Taylor lay on the floor in a crumpled heap.

  Knowles could smell the blood, death and cordite in the air. Not again.

  No-one stood in the original circle of twenty soldiers: they were all dead or dying. The three civilians were also down. One of the wolves had turned back to a human and was starting up one of the trucks.

  “Let’s go!” he roared.

  Knowles aimed at him, but then the Wolf ran across his sights. Knowles lowered his weapon for an instant
, then aimed again, but the truck was moving now and the shot had gone. The smaller wolves were running for the truck and jumped into the back. The last one in turned into a man who spun around as soon as he landed in the truck. The man held his hand out to the chasing Wolf.

  “No,” Knowles roared and he fired three rounds in quick succession. No bullet found its target.

  Other soldiers arrived, some firing at the retreating truck, others rushing to help fallen friends. The Wolf ran after the truck, keeping pace with it easily. Bullets hit the Wolf, knocking it off its stride for a moment. But only for a moment.

  “It’s shielding them,” Knowles muttered. What are you doing Jack?

  “They will be stopped at the gate,” Raymond said.

  “No, they won't.”

  Knowles was right.

  12

  The truck bounced along the track, throwing the people in the back around like marbles in a sack. Michael grabbed hold of the side of the truck and stared out of the back. The Wolf was still running behind them, blood coating one side of its body. He held out his hand, but the Wolf ignored him. It’s covering us, letting the bullets hit it, not us. He marvelled at the thought - despite what he had heard, the Wolf was on his side.

  “Yes!” he screamed.

  The Wolf suddenly sped up and ran past the truck. Michael risked looking forward, hanging out of the truck. Sally shouted his name, but he ignored her.

  The gates of the base were rapidly approaching. An armoured car sat in front of the gates, with four soldiers aiming guns at them. A fifth man was on the car, aiming the large machine gun at them.

  “Get down!” Michael roared as the man opened fire.

  He jumped into the back of the truck, lying as flat as he could in the bouncing vehicle. High calibre rounds tore the cabin of the truck to pieces. The driver didn’t stand a chance. Bullets smacked into the slowest of the wolves, the impact carrying his body out of the back of the truck.

  So close.

  13

  The Wolf leapt at the man on the Armoured Personnel Carrier first. Its full weight hit the man on the side and he flew off the back of the car, hitting the ground with enough force to be knocked out cold. The Wolf stood where the soldier had been, the gun hanging impotently from its stand next to him. Four men turned to face the wolf, but one of them dropped his weapon and ran.

  The other three took aim, but then the truck hit the armoured car. Metal screeched as the vehicles collided. The Wolf jumped to the side of the colliding vehicles, landing clear of the wreckage. The front of the truck had caved in, crumpling under the force of the collision. If the driver had somehow survived the machine gun fire, then he would certainly be dead now. The cabin of the truck had been completely destroyed.

  Two of the soldiers did not move out of the way quickly enough and were crushed between the vehicles. The remaining man rolled on the ground as bits of metal rained down around him. The Wolf jumped for him and the man screamed. It tore the gun from his grasp, and with a shake of its head threw the gun thirty feet away.

  The Wolf looked at the man and howled.

  Three people staggered out of the remains of the truck and stood on shaky legs behind the Wolf. It turned its head slightly, recognising them as kin, and then turned back to the soldier. Its fur started to run back into its body, revealing a blood-spattered face.

  “Run,” Jack said. The soldier scrambled away from him, moaning, then sprinted after his colleague.

  Running the other way, towards them, Jack could see the remaining soldiers of the base. At their head was Knowles. He was bellowing Jack’s name. Jack jumped as a hand patted his shoulder. He spun around to see a man of similar build to himself standing there. Behind him was another man and a really fat woman.

  “You must be Stadler,” the man said.

  Jack nodded. “And you are?”

  “Like you, I'm like you. My name is Michael, but I think introductions can wait, don't you?”

  Jack glanced back at the rapidly approaching soldiers.

  “Come on, Jack. Let’s go.”

  They picked their way through the wreckage of the truck and APC and ran out onto the road by the base. A car came around the corner and slowed when the driver saw the smoke and wreckage by the gatehouse. The driver wound his window down.

  “Jesus, is everyone ok?” he asked. “What happened to your clo-”

  Michael wrenched the door open and pulled the man out of the car with a speed that was terrifying.

  “Borrowing your car,” he said. His fingers became topped with razor-sharp talons and he went to slit the man’s throat.

  “No,” Jack cried and grabbed his arm. “Leave him. Take his car and let’s go.”

  Michael looked at Jack with contempt for a moment, then his features softened. “Yes, master.”

  He pushed the man away and got into the car. The others clambered in, leaving Jack naked on the side of the road.

  “You coming?” Michael asked.

  Jack looked again at the soldiers who were now only 100 metres away. Knowles was screaming his name, and next to him was the base commander. Raymond. That’s his name. He wanted to cut me open. Jack looked at the devastation that had once more been left in his wake. He slid into the car, feeling further away from his family than ever before.

  14

  Knowles watched as the car sped away. The smoke and wreckage of the vehicles by the gate meant that they had no way of giving chase.

  Raymond was spitting orders into his radio. Knowles jogged past the wreckage, tried not to look at the crushed soldiers but failed. More dead on British soil. Jesus. The driver of the car was sitting on the side of the road, holding his arm.

  “You OK?” Knowles called.

  “My arm, I think it’s broken,” the man said. You should be thankful for that.

  “We've got medics that can look at that. Can you walk?” Knowles looked at him, leaving the sentence hanging, a blank to be filled.

  “Marcus,” the man said, wincing as he stood. “Did terrorists just steal my car?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Why were they naked? You lot been waterboarding them?”

  “No, we leave that to the Americans,” Knowles said. “Come on, let’s get you some help. What’s the registration of your car? We'll soon track them.”

  Marcus rattled off the registration as Knowles helped him back across the road and through the wreckage.

  “Don't look,” Knowles said. Marcus did and was promptly sick. The smell of vomit did nothing to help make the scene more palatable. Knowles called for one of the doctors to come over and then he went to Raymond.

  “I have the license plate sir. We can track them.”

  “We can't give it to the police, Knowles - are you mad? Look what they did to us. Just think what they'd do to the police.”

  “Sir, the police can track them. They don't have to corner them.”

  “Yes Knowles, but just how long do you think they will have that car for?”

  “Sir-”

  “Shut up Knowles. Your friend has just escaped. We have over twenty people dead back here. There is footage of the wolves on the internet. We are fucked, Knowles, completely fucked.”

  “Yes, sir,” Knowles said.

  Raymond put his head in his hands, then ran his hands through his hair. He straightened up, visibly pulling himself together. “Knowles, please pass that registration number to the police. Warn them that, under no circumstances are they to engage the occupants. I want to know where they end up, nothing more.”

  Knowles nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Raymond then turned to the soldiers around them and started barking orders again. First priority was to clean the mess around the gatehouse. Once work had started, Raymond marched back to his office. He had lots of phone calls to make.

  Chapter 17

  1

  The day before, Katie drummed her fingers on the laptop, scanning the search results. She wasn’t entirely certain what she was
looking for, so had started with searching for Simon Foster. In amongst all the Linked In and Facebook profiles had been a small article about the man’s death. That had led her to his blog, but it seemed badly written and smug to her. It was also extremely light on details and had an awful lot of supposition within it.

  The comments section had been hilarious in its vitriol though, which made her wonder if someone had done a hatchet job on him. Someone called him a ‘deluded faggot’ and then that person got attacked for being homophobic and so it went. Fairly standard internet chat stuff.

  She then tried Doctor Baxter, the man killed in Barnstaple Hospital the night that Jack had been declared dead. This led to lots of plastic surgeons and, bizarrely, the picture of a spider with a human head. It was from some comic, but she clicked off that search quickly anyway. At the bottom of the first page of search results was a link to the North Devon Journal featuring a story about the death of Doctor Baxter and the mayhem that had ensued soon after.

  She clicked onto that story and found the name of the detective she had met. Detective Sergeant James Wilson according to the news article, which also included details of the man’s death. She had a momentary pang of guilt that she had forgotten his name. Someone’s son. She typed ‘James Wilson’ into Google. A footballer apparently. She read on, clicking onto page two of the results and there she found a police report. It was an obituary. She read it anyway, but it told her nothing relevant. Katie made a cup of tea, checking that Josh was still asleep, then sat down at the computer again. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, making her tilt the screen to avoid the glare.

  Katie went back to the North Devon Journal and clicked back through the articles at around the time of the supposed wolf attack in Barnstaple. The Journal’s archive was surprisingly thorough and it took a while to sift through them all. Eventually, she found an interview with Detective Wilson. In it he told of the desperate search for the animal before it could attack any more people. He mentioned that the animal was probably wounded because it had been shot by a soldier on leave.