Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning)

by T. W. Piperbrook

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The bright moonlight hit Tom's eyes like a spotlight as he ushered the others ahead of him. The rooftop was bathed in snow. By his guess, there was almost a foot. Several pipes stuck through the snow. A four-foot ledge wrapped around the building. Looking out of the stairwell, he could see in every direction except behind him. The roof seemed unoccupied.

  "Take the others away from the door!" Tom yelled to Rosemary. "Keep them safe!"

  He watched her as he spoke, trying to will away his mistrust. They had to move.

  Rosemary led Sally, Katherine, and Silas out into the snow while Kelsey and Tom ducked back in the stairwell. Sally fell to the ground, her mournful cries filling the air as she screamed for Abraham. Katherine and Silas clung to her arms, trying to console her. And then they were out of sight.

  "Come on, Kelsey!" Tom yelled, plunging back down the stairwell. Kelsey followed. They'd left the canisters on the first landing. Kelsey held the pack of Marlboros. Animal noises floated up from deep in the building.

  Tom knelt down next to one of the canisters and fiddled with the top.

  "How do you work these things?" he asked.

  "Cover me. I've got it!" Kelsey pulled out an oxygen wrench and cranked it over the nozzle, unleashing a puff of air. He covered her as she opened each of the oxygen tanks until all four of them expelled invisible gas. Then Kelsey emptied her pockets, tossing alcohol-soaked gauze and bandages into a pile of makeshift kindling.

  Tom swallowed as he appraised the landing.

  "We'll need to stay back!" Kelsey urged.

  Tom gave a last glance at the forms of the dead beasts on the stairs below, afraid they'd spring to life and attack. Abraham's eviscerated body was among them. Just a few moments ago, he'd been fighting alongside them, and now he was gone. Tom blinked back tears. They retreated up the stairwell as Kelsey opened the Marlboro pack.

  The noises below them resembled a stampede, a platoon of demons emerging from the depths of hell to take them. Tom looked at Kelsey. To his surprise, instead of using the matches, Kelsey stuck the cigarette in her mouth, struck a match, and lit it. A puff of smoke billowed from her mouth as she sucked in a deep drag. In another scenario, the idea of a nurse smoking inside a hospital might've been amusing, but not now.

  He watched as Kelsey took another pull. The cigarette crackled. Kelsey pulled Tom back up the staircase and flung the cigarette.

  The cigarette hit the second to last stair. It rolled.

  "I used to smoke!" Kelsey explained with a yell.

  All at once it was on the landing, resting on a pile of alcohol-soaked bandages. The flames took a second to catch hold. When they did, there was a whoosh as the alcohol-soaked bandages caught fire, and then the flames were spreading wildly. The fire crackled as it consumed the oxygen, creating a fiery wall in the staircase.

  "Now I know why I quit!" Kelsey shouted. "That tasted like shit!"

  "Let's get out of here!" Tom yelled.

  Through the fire, Tom caught sight of a line of beasts coming up the stairwell. Just past them were the carcasses of the beasts they'd killed, the body of Abraham. The flames started down the staircase, catching hold of the dead things' fur, consuming the beasts and the man underneath in a makeshift funeral pyre. Tom swallowed his emotion as they exited the door and slammed it behind them, hoping they'd exited for the last time.

  Tom stood at the edge of the rooftop, surveying the ruined parking lot. The grey, moonlit sky illuminated the abandoned police cruiser. The shattered, deserted vehicles parked in rows might as well have been the last remains of humanity. He searched for life, but saw nothing. In the distance, fleeting shadows hovered between the trees—perhaps beasts drawn to the building from whatever hunting grounds they'd been stalking.

  Sally had stopped crying and had resorted to staring at the door, as if Abraham might come walking out to join them. But he wouldn't. Not now. Not ever.

  Closing his eyes, Tom could almost feel the building wavering and swaying, submerging into the icy landscape like an arctic ship.

  But the building wasn't swaying.

  It was Tom's stomach. He was sick at losing Tabatha and Abraham. Try as he might, he couldn't help but picture Abraham's ruined face as he was consumed by flame, a fiery burial. Maybe that was preferable to Lorena's body, which had ended up alone in the woods, food for whatever animals dared to venture out in the storm.

  At least they'd kept the beasts at bay.

  He turned and glanced over his shoulder. Crackling flames and smoke spilled from the door they'd closed. His initial fear was that the door would blow open, pressurized by the heat and oxygen. According to Kelsey, the doors were fireproof for a certain amount of time, though she couldn't recall how long. They'd been keeping a guarded vigil—and their distance—ever since. Since arriving, they'd reloaded with the last of the ammunition.

  Rosemary paced around the rooftop, her face a mask of shock. Tom wondered how she could feel remorse for Abraham, when she'd already been responsible for the deaths of so many others. Whatever the case, she'd barely spoken a word since they'd reached the roof. Katherine and Silas hovered close to Sally.

  Tom looked down at his pale legs sticking out of the hospital gown. The cold bit into his skin with teeth as sharp as the beasts'. Although he'd grabbed his boots, he'd never gotten a jacket. The bandage on his leg—the one with which Kelsey had outfitted him—was disheveled and hanging off him.

  "Is your leg all right?" Kelsey asked, taking up next to him.

  "Yeah, it's fine. I guess I'll need a new bandage." He smiled wryly. "I don't think that'll happen anytime soon."

  "I'm sure it will. As soon as the fire truck arrives."

  If it arrives, he thought. He didn't tell her that. Tom needed to maintain his hope. Especially when everything else seemed lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "Do you think the creatures will make it out here?" Kelsey asked, a look of worry plastered to her face as she watched tendrils of smoke seep around the cracks in the doorframe. The banging in the stairwell was loud enough that each successive blow convinced Tom the beasts were on the roof with them. But that wasn't the case. The beasts were still inside. He imagined them scraping the walls in frustration, held in place by fear of the fire. He kept his rifle at the ready.

  "I think it'll hold for a while."

  For once, the primitive instincts that drove the beasts were working to the survivors' advantage. Rosemary had been right about the creatures fearing the fire. Tom wondered how far the fire had spread. Was it making its way down the stairwell? Was it consuming other floors?

  The smoke was thick enough that it fought through the cold, like a winter campfire gone awry. Katherine and Silas huddled in blankets by the roof's edge, looking out over the horizon. Sally held them tightly, as if they were the last vestiges of her sanity. Rosemary blew on her hands, staring vacantly into the distance. Tom wondered how long they could stay out here before frostbite kicked in. By his estimate, it was only a few degrees outside. Tabatha's warnings seemed like they'd been given in some other lifetime.

  It was hard to believe the woman was dead. She and Abraham felt like ghosts, people he'd known so briefly that it felt like Tom had imagined them.

  He stared over his shoulder into the horizon. His hope was to see a cavalcade of lights, but with each passing minute, his hope dwindled. The battered cruiser in the parking lot was a reminder of their helplessness. Kelsey wandered over to check on the others. Rosemary walked over to stand next to Tom.

  She sighed.

  After a pause, Rosemary said, "I feel sick about Abraham."

  "I don't see how you could," Tom said. "After all the others you've been responsible for killing."

  "He died trying to protect me. And now Sally's alone. I should've done more to save him…" Rosemary bowed her head and suddenly she was crying again. She muffled her sobs in her jacket. Tears fell from her eyes.

  "We've all been forced into this horrible situa
tion." Tom finally conceded. "No one asked for any of this."

  Rosemary fell silent, and he could tell her guilt ran deeper than what had happened to Abraham. Tom exhaled.

  After a pause, he said, "I understand you wanting to protect your children. As unthinkable as everything else is, I can appreciate that."

  "I keep thinking about them, and praying they're all right." Rosemary's breath was visible in the night sky. "Should I not be doing that? I feel awful about Abraham and Tabatha. I do. But I know Jason and Jeffrey don't have the strength to fight what's happened to them. I want to help them, Tom. For all I know, they're on the other side of that door, close enough that I could hug them. But I can't."

  "If we survive tonight, we'll get them some help."

  "I sure hope so," Rosemary whispered.

  They stared into the night, keeping an uneasy vigil through the storm.

  "The smoke is stopping," Rosemary announced.

  Tom blinked hard, fighting through his tiredness. Rosemary was right. Sure enough, the smoke was waning. They'd been standing guard for almost a half an hour with no sign of the fire truck. The steady stream had become a reluctant puff. He listened for the creatures, but the banging had ceased. He pictured the stairwell filled with gagging, suffering creatures. Either that or they'd gone off in search of other survivors.

  Maybe they'd been driven away.

  In the time they'd waited, he hadn't seen a mass exodus from the building, but it was possible the beasts had slipped out some other window or entrance. Surely they wouldn't waste the moonlight without seeking more victims.

  He crept closer to the door, aiming his rifle. His muscles were sore from the cold and standing in place. As he got closer to the door, he felt a wave of heat. The door's fire resistance must've expired. The warmth drew him closer. Standing fifteen feet away, Tom listened for signs of the creatures on the other side, but heard only the faint crackle of flame.

  Curiosity begged him to open the door—to use a blanket to shield his hands and see what was on the other side—but Tom knew better. By the sounds of it, the beasts were gone.

  "Tom! Look!"

  Katherine's excited voice grabbed his attention. Tom swiveled and looked off the roof, catching sight of twin, glowing lights in the distance. The lights flickered and weaved as a vehicle navigated toward the hospital.

  Was it help? His heart soared at the prospect.

  A few minutes ago, he was sure it wasn't coming, but now his hope was renewed.

  All at once, the other survivors were hanging over the roof's edge, hands cupped over eyes and shouting excitedly. Tom gave a last look at the door before trudging over to join them. He dipped his frozen hands in the folds of his hospital gown. The lights grew in size. Soon he could see the shape of the vehicle behind them.

  A fire truck.

  "I can't believe it!" Rosemary exclaimed. "It's really here!"

  The fire truck hummed as it churned through the snow-covered parking lot, tires spitting snow. Atop of it was a ladder. As Tom watched the approaching vehicle, he was suddenly overcome with emotion. As grateful as he was to see it, Abraham and Tabatha should've been there to see it, too.

  The hiss of brakes echoed off the building as the vehicle slowed to a stop. The growl of the engine broke through the night's quiet. Rosemary and the others waved, yelling out to the vehicle.

  "Up here!"

  "Help us!"

  Their words were filled with hope. Tom waved his hands, joining the chorus of voices. A spotlight winked on from the top of the truck, swiveling, illuminating Tom and his companions. They're coming to get us. It's really over.

  A voice called out on a bullhorn.

  "Step away from the edge! We're going to send up the ladder! Officer Flannery is coming up to get you!"

  The noise of the fire truck felt like a repellent to fear, deterring shadows and demons. Tom and the others took a few steps back, obeying instructions, but staying close enough that they could keep their eyes on the truck. Tom's sudden, irrational fear was that if he looked away, the truck might disappear.

  A mechanical whir began as someone operated the ladder. In the pale light of the moon and the spotlight's glare, he watched it rise into the sky. The sight was awe-inspiring and relieving. Tom glanced at the parking lot below, gauging the distance to the ground. He'd used ladders before, but only to clean gutters or trim branches. He felt a wave of vertigo. He held out his hands to steady himself. The ladder unfolded slowly, lengthening as more rungs appeared.

  "Almost there!" the man behind the bullhorn called.

  Tom had the sudden memory of Al, the fireman who had helped him from the Knights of Columbus. Was the man still alive? He didn't recognize the voice below, but he hoped Al had survived. The spotlight swiveled with the ladder, temporarily blinding Tom. He shielded his face with his eyes.

  A scream pierced the air.

  Confused, Tom spun to face the roof. Through the glare of the lights, he saw the washed out, terrified faces of his companions. Their hopeful expressions had faded.

  In the midst of them was one of the beasts.

  The creature looked even more terrifying in the unyielding glow, its eyes red, its fangs exposed. Its bristled fur stuck out at odd angles. Tom watched in horror as it swiped at Sally's face, tearing the skin from her cheek and exposing layers of skin underneath. Her mouth stuck open in disbelief. She stared across the roof at Tom for a moment, as if Tom might've been the source of the pain, and then she was pulled to the ground and out of the light.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Panicked screams filled the air. The roof descended into chaos.

  The beast snarled as it ripped into Sally's fallen body. Tom aimed his rifle, but someone plowed into him, preventing a shot. He fell sideways into the snow. He only knew by the screams of terror that it was Katherine, who must've run to him for help and knocked him off balance.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Tom saw Silas screaming at the beast's back. The little boy shook his fists in the air, as if his hands alone might ward off the beast. The creature spun, vicious eyes sizing up new prey. It was several feet taller than the little boy.

  "Get down, Silas!" Tom screamed.

  The little boy stared over his shoulder with panicked eyes. Knowing he needed to take the risk, Tom fired the rifle. The bullet struck the creature's head, pitching it sideways to the snow. Silas stared at the eviscerated body of Sally, still screaming.

  "Get over here, Silas!"

  The little boy ran to join him, heaving thick sobs. Tom surveyed the rest of the rooftop, ascertaining where everyone had gone. Rosemary and Kelsey were on the other side of the roof. Katherine and Silas were next to him. No other beasts were in sight.

  The ladder whirred; the spotlight swayed.

  Tom cut a look at the roof door. Wisps of smoke billowed from the now-open entrance. The gaping hole revealed nothing about what was on the interior.

  It didn't have to.

  Two more beasts sprung from the entrance, running toward Rosemary and Kelsey. Tom cried out in warning, but Rosemary was already aiming her pistol, squeezing off two shots in rapid succession, knocking one over, then the other. The beasts tumbled face first into the snow.

  "Get to the ladder!" Tom shouted across the rooftop.

  Between the noise of the ladder and the fire truck's engine, his voice was almost lost. But Rosemary heard him. She ushered Kelsey across the roof. Tom ran to meet them, the children at his side, and he passed them off.

  "Officer Flannery's coming up the ladder!" the voice on the bullhorn bellowed. "Hang on!"

  "Make sure the kids are safe!" Tom yelled to Kelsey. "Rosemary and I will cover the door!"

  Kelsey grabbed his arm and gave him an appreciative squeeze, and then she hung over the roof's edge, coordinating with the climbing policeman.

  "Come on, Tom!" Rosemary called to Tom.

  Tom and Rosemary trudged through the snow, training their guns on the door. Tom flashed back to the evening be
fore, when they'd fought the beasts together. Despite how much had changed between them, the situation was eerily similar. Errant smoke floated out and merged with the sky. The doorway was dark and menacing. Without warning, a creature careened from the blackness and loped across the roof, navigating the snow as if it were a mere annoyance.

  "I've got it!" Tom yelled.

  He waited until the creature was fifteen yards away, then felled it with a chest shot. He wiped nervous sweat from his brow. Every second Tom and Rosemary held off the creatures meant that more people could be rescued.

  Another beast darted from the entrance, salivating and snarling. This time Rosemary squeezed off a shot, sending the beast to the ground in a cloud of white dust.

  "We should spread out a little, so we can cover the door better!" Rosemary suggested.

  "Okay!"

  Tom nodded as Rosemary trekked across the roof, taking a twenty-foot buffer from him. He thought of Abraham and Sally.

  He couldn't bring the dead couple back, but he'd kill as many of the fuckers as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom caught the silhouette of Silas being lowered onto the ladder. Thank God. Keep getting them out of here. His gaze flew back to the door.

  Several more shapes had emerged, heading straight for Rosemary. They were directly in her line of fire. Hoping to preserve ammunition, Tom aimed and waited. Rosemary raised her gun, her face creased with determination. The creatures got closer. To his surprise, instead of shooting, she lowered her weapon.

  "What are you doing?" he screamed.

  "Don't shoot, Tom!" she yelled.

  Tom was about to squeeze the trigger when he understood.

  "Jason! Jeffrey!" Rosemary shrieked at the oncoming beasts.

  Her voice was shrill and insistent. A mother's cry.

  The creatures ground to a halt, chests heaving, arms waving at their sides. Unlike the other beasts, these were smaller, thinner. Their glistening snouts were illuminated in the splaying glow of the spotlight. The beasts studied Rosemary with vicious eyes. She held their gaze, trying to appear unafraid, but Tom could see she was shaking.