by Justin Sloan
"Most of the teams are still out there," he said. "But as soon as the attack started, we put a call out for all to converge back here."
"Merde. It’s daylight; those rat-fucks know to attack when my vampires are sleeping." She looked back at the crowd outside. "Can we get them to safety? Declare martial law or something to get them out of harm's way?"
"With the Enforcers locked up, our manpower’s a bit low."
The others were standing by, waiting for an order. Valerie was new here; she got that. And even back home, she hadn’t been a squad leader or military commander or anything that remotely prepared her for this.
She’d hoped to be on the attack, not caught off-guard like this. But now wasn’t the time to focus on what-ifs, it was the time to take action.
"I need to know what we’re dealing with," Valerie said. "Where’s Wallace? Sandra?"
"Everyone’s awake, but…" He turned to the woman beside him.
"The roof," she said.
"Got it." Valerie put a hand on Peterson’s shoulder and said, "Get an initial defense going. At least keep them out of the crowded areas, and see if you can get some guns on the wall in case they haven’t made it inside yet."
"Yes ma’am," Peterson said.
Valerie turned to the stairs—having no time for the elevator. "Oh, and ladies and gentlemen, this just became war. You’re not just cops anymore, you’re soldiers, and every one of us will have each other’s back, got it?"
"Roger that," Peterson said with a grin.
"Toujours fidele," she said, repeating a saying she’d seen on the side of an old propaganda poster. It had been painted onto the brick wall outside of the apartment block just opposite her own, and from what she remembered of her father’s explanation, it meant ‘Always faithful’, just like the Marines’ motto—a fact that had influenced the French alliance in the days before a government rose up from the ashes of the great collapse.
"Toujours fidele," the team’s voice said as one as she ascended the stairs.
She knew this was going to take it out of her, but if she didn’t act quickly, she would lose her chance of stopping Strake and the hunting of vampires. She’d lose the city, and likely become one of those blood-banks.
That was not about to happen. Not if she had anything to do with it.
In a flash she was up the stairs and bursting out onto the roof, where Wallace, Sandra, the Were she thought of as Mecha, and a couple of unknown Weres were at the far side, looking out to where the black smoke rose into the sky.
"How bad is it?" she asked, taking her spot next to them.
Sandra ran over and threw her arms around Valerie, then looked up with worry creasing her face. "Diego and Cammie, do you think…?"
Valerie took a moment to look out at the destruction. Gunshots echoed through the air. The enemy was apparently attacking from the cover of the ruins outside the city. If it had been a large force, though, they would’ve been able to see more of them. That was a relief. Still, half of Valerie’s army was sleeping, and she had no idea what exactly she was dealing with.
She shook her head. "I don’t know. They went in that direction, yes, but they’re both quick and good in a fight. If anything, it might be an advantage that they’re out there."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Outside Old Manhattan
Cammie ducked behind a corner of a brick building, hoping to catch her breath before the next move.
"What’re we doing here?" Diego asked. "We need to get to the Golden City, get backup!"
"If we can even the scales first, that’s not a bad thing."
"Even the—"
She turned and put a finger to his lips, probably a bit too much, but she enjoyed the way his eyes got wide and then went crossed trying to look down at her finger. With a smile, she nodded for him to follow, and then made her move.
Keeping low so as to not be seen, she worked her way to the other side of the command tent. Here she raised slightly to see over the wall, and sure enough, a couple of the soldiers were standing around a map of the city.
Four of them. Not a problem for two Weres, unless they were seen and an alarm raised, so that more came with guns.
No, taking them out wasn’t the objective. It was something she thought she’d seen from above, up the stairs.
When she continued along the wall and reached the open space between herself and the large, green container, she paused. This had better be worth it.
Explosions sounded in the distance, and one of the soldiers said something about being ready to go in there and blow a hole in the rebels’ asses.
Yeah, fuck that.
She darted forward and, quietly, lifted the lid. A smile spread across her face.
A box of munitions.
There were more nearby, and she figured this must be a whole supply line setup here. Lucky for her, Diego found the one with the grenades.
From what she heard about his performance in taking down Enforcer HQ, he was somewhat of an old friend with grenades, so she said, "You do the honors."
"Not happening," Diego said. "Are you nuts? We’d never make it out of here!"
"Pull a couple pins, transform, and run like shit," she whispered, growing more irritated. "What’s so hard about that?"
"We lose our clothes, for one."
"There’re plenty of other soldiers around for us to rob." He opened his mouth to argue again, but she wasn’t about to let him. "You do it, then just run like a bee’s about to sting you in the ass, got it?"
He still didn’t act, so she reached across and pulled the pins from the grenades for him.
"Don’t suppose we have much of a choice now," he said, glaring.
"We don’t. So drop them, and run."
A footstep sounded nearby and then someone said, "What the F—" but Cammie was already changing, and Diego had just dropped the grenades and was changing too.
Both of them tore through their clothes and were running from the compound, past a couple of soldiers and then out into the street they’d been on earlier, pushing themselves to their limits, her in wolf form and him as a puma..
A shot sounded as the soldier tried to fire after them, but he probably couldn’t even see where they’d gone at this point, they were that fast, and then…
…KA-KA-KABOOM!
The whole place behind them went up in a series of explosions.
She let out a bark of delight, turning as she ran to see the puma moving at her side. Damn, he was majestic in this form. His muscles rippled with each step beneath the sleek fur, golden in the sunlight.
They reached a small stream, and both leaped over, then BAM!
Diego went rolling in the mud, a trickle of blood on his right leg.
Cammie spun, teeth bared in the direction of a soldier, two more behind him. He held a sniper rifle and was kneeling, the other running up fast with automatics. If she moved fast, he wouldn’t be able to get a sight in on her. Of course, the other two would be a concern, but not yet.
She went back the way they’d come, dodging left and right, and was glad the sniper missed when he shot again.
Then she realized he hadn’t even been aiming for her, but past her.
A shout came from Diego, and she turned to see him back in human form—a nude man at a river bank, pulling himself toward the river and trying to get out of sight of the sniper.
This motherfucking sniper had it coming. Before he could get off a third shot, she was on him, tearing first at his arm until blood was gushing down it—the bastard wouldn’t have been able to pull a trigger even if he wanted to, not with all that blood coating his hand and making it slick.
His two buddies were almost on them, one aiming a rifle but hesitating so as not to hit the sniper. Still, she couldn’t be sure when he might shoot, so she decided to end this quick.
With a feint left and then darting to her right, she put the sniper between her and the other two and then moved in for the kill. He tried to block with his hand, like a chump,
so she bit the hand off and spat it in his face, right before tearing his throat out.
She hated to get blood on her bare skin, but this next part required she transform. There she was, nude and pressed up against this dying man as his blood sprayed across her, but she was too focused on killing the other two to care. Their rifles hit the body, causing it to shake. Meanwhile, she grabbed the sniper rifle, used the dying man’s shoulder to steady it, and then put a bullet in each of the other two soldiers’ heads—or she meant to anyway… the bullets missed and hit one in the stomach, the other in the groin.
A second shot took out the guy who’d been hit in the stomach, but the other guy was whimpering and writhing on the ground in pain, holding his crotch.
Instead of risking another shot, she stood, walked over to him, her bare feet not enjoying the rubble of the street, and smashed in his head with the butt of his own rifle.
It wasn’t until that moment that she realized the folly in her little plan—she’d had to leave her cowboy boots back there in the explosion, and she fucking loved those boots.
Sure, she knew a place in the city where she could grab a pair, but they wouldn’t be broken in, and they weren’t going back to the city yet.
And then she realized something else—one of the bullets must have made it through that sniper’s body, because she had a bleeding hole just at the top of her right breast. She tried to move her arms and realized it was numb, but the pain was starting to set in even as it started to heal.
Good thing these assmunches didn’t know to use silver bullets, or likely have access to it.
With a quick glance back to ensure no other soldiers had spotted them, she turned and walked back to the river. Diego was leaning up against the river bank, his legs partially submerged in the shallow water.
She wasn’t sure how he did it, because the water was freezing.
He smiled up at her, a dazed, almost ‘what the fuck just happened’ kind of smile, and then quickly looked away when he seemed to realize he was looking at a nude woman.
"Get over it," she said, lowering herself into the freezing water with a yelp. She began to scrub at the blood, doing her best to get it off. "How many times have you seen a Were change? A female, I mean."
He shrugged. "Not enough to be immune to it."
"Yeah well, get your fill now then, because it’s something you’re going to have to get used to now that you’re surrounded by us."
He looked over, and she spread her arms to give him to full view, then laughed. "Not immune, I see."
Fully bushing, he lifted his left knee so that his thigh did a better job of covering his arousal, and then looked away again.
"Nothing to be ashamed of," she said. "Like I said, just have to get used to it, so it doesn’t have that effect."
"If a man’s ever that used to it… Well, I don’t want to be that man."
She laughed. "Point taken. Now, can you…?" She gestured at the bullet hole and then approached him. She sat beside him and covered her breasts with her arm, to help him be more comfortable. "Just check to see if the bullet’s out? I’d hate to heal up around it."
His eyes went wide. "You want me to look in there and see if I can spot a bullet?"
"Of course not," she said. "That’d never work. You have to use your fingers."
"The hell I am!"
"Dammit, I’d do it for you," she said. "Matter of fact, where’d the second shot get you?"
He smiled meekly and then motioned to his butt. "As I was crawling away. In one cheek, out the other side."
"In the—" She stifled a laugh. "You’re telling me you got sniped in the ass?!" She couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore, and was soon lying back against the muddy bank, rolling with laughter.
"Okay, okay," he said, finally pushing himself up to stand. He wasn’t aroused anymore at least, but was still shy enough to feel he had to cover himself. "I get it, but look, all healed up now."
He turned and showed her a pale ass, streaks of mostly washed off blood on it, but not much of a wound left. It was a damn nice ass, if you could ignore the streaks of blood.
"Don’t turn around yet," she said. "I’m not done seeing if it healed."
"What, I—" He caught on and blushed. "Oh… What do you say we grab those guys’ clothes back there?"
"You’re really not going to check this for me?" she said, glancing down at her wound. It looked like it was already starting to heal. She gritted her teeth and prepared to stick her own fingers into the wound.
"Oh, come on!" he said, and then swatted her hand away. "But you owe me big for this."
"Killing our three attackers isn’t enough?" She scoffed. "Or having the brilliant idea to help Valerie and the others by blowing up all the bad guys’ shit? Not enough for you?"
He simply held her firm gaze, reached up, and dug his fingers into the bullet wound.
"AH, FUCK-NABBIT!" she shouted, the pain coursing through her like waves of barbed wire tearing at her flesh. She wanted to transform and tear him limb from limb, but she clenched her jaw, focused on ignoring the pain, and waited. No, that wasn’t working—another wave of pain came and left her shouting out, "SHIT ON A STICK OF DYNAMITE AND EAT IT, YOU PIECE OF COD LIVER TAINTED-OIL!"
"Are you done with that?" Diego asked, and she opened her eyes, about to leap and attack, when he held up a bloodied, crumpled bullet. "Because I’m done with my part."
His smile was almost enough to make her ignore the pulling sensation as her tissue, muscles, and skin worked to heal.
She reached out, hands on his shoulders to steady herself, and then realized that the way she was like this, head bowed as she worked to catch her breath, left her staring straight at his junk.
Now it was her turn to look away quickly, and the motion caused her wound to throb with pain.
"Thought you were immune to nudity," he said with a smirk.
"More so when it’s not right in my face. Can you put that thing away?"
He motioned to his lack of clothing. "Kind of your fault."
"Right…." She glanced back at the bodies of the sniper and other two. "Rock, paper, scissors for the clothes with the least amount of blood on them?"
"Deal," he said. "But you’ll have to teach me what rock, paper, scissors means, since as far as I know that sounds like you’re just saying random words."
She laughed at that and explained the rules to him as they undressed two of the dead soldiers—the sniper and the one who’d taken the stomach shot—leaving the underwear alone, because really they wouldn’t want to wear dirty underwear. And anyway, with the amount of transforming needed lately, it was definitely easier to go commando.
"Hey, think that’s why they call it commando?" she asked. "I mean, maybe the original soldier who started that was a Were, and so going ‘commando’ made sense."
"I’ve considered what you said and I’m pretty sure I have no fucking clue," Diego said, now, holding a set of clothes in front of him. "Can we get on with it?"
"Okay, rock, paper, scissors." She laughed, as he got it all wrong. "No, you have to land on the third one, okay?"
"Got it. One more time."
This time he got it, but lost with rock to paper, so she tossed him the clothes she was holding—clearly the bloodier of the two sets. Of course they went to clean them off next anyway, but still, it was nasty cleaning off all that blood. Putting on wet, freezing cold clothes was pretty uncomfortable too, but at least the sun was still out, and it was a warm day.
When they were done, they looked back toward the buildings and the direction of the black smoke rising in the distance.
"Think they’ll be okay?" Diego asked.
"We did our part, and we heard what they said. They’re hitting in waves—meaning the sooner we come back with reinforcements, the better."
"I guess that means we’re continuing on to the Golden City, then." Diego almost couldn’t hide his smile.
But Cammie had been there before. She was a little less exci
ted about the journey, but, glancing over at Diego, realized she felt a little less crummy about it with Diego at her side.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Old Manhattan City Walls
For once, Valerie had convinced Sandra to stay behind. The city was being attacked, and they’d need a sniper at Enforcer HQ if it got to that.
"You see me running with my arms waving in the air like a lunatic," Valerie had said. "That’s the signal for ‘get ready to shoot whoever is chasing my ass.'"
And now Valerie was at the wall, moving with Mecha and several squads of Weres at her side. They were faster and stronger than regular humans, even when in their human form, and she told them to stay that way unless absolutely necessary.
"There!" Mecha said, pointing to a shadow that moved at the edge of an old metro entrance outside of the walls.
A piece of the nearby building blasted apart and, not even breaking stride, Valerie leaped from the building, tore the rifle out of the soldier’s hands below, and jammed as much as would fit down his throat.
Violence wasn’t something she enjoyed, per se, but when people were trying to attack her city and loved ones?
"Bite down, shit-licker," she said, and then pulled the trigger.
As a vampire, she was fast enough to be able to jump back before the brain matter and guck covered her new clothes.
Mecha had followed, though and had just arrived to have the blood splatter on his leather jacket.
"A warning, next time?" he said, wiping something nasty from his forehead.
"Deal." She saw another soldier, this one aiming at them. "It’s next time."
Mecha only had time to say, "Huh?" before she was gone. She kicked the rifle into the air, slammed the palm of her hand into the soldier’s nose so hard that his bone pushed inward and punctured his brain before his body hit the ground.
"Aghhh!" she shouted in frustration, and then sunk her teeth into the man’s neck to drain what little life he had remaining as the last beats of his heart faded.
If the enemy were all in one place, she could simply run through them all and end it in a matter of minutes, but the soldiers were practicing guerilla warfare.