by Terry Yates
“What are we going to do now?” Kyler asked.
“The safest place is probably upstairs,” Zora answered him, putting one of her two guns back into her pants.
“How do we do that?” Kyler came back. “Professor O’Hearley has the only card.”
“You only need a card to get down,” Zora replied.
“Well, whatever we do, we’d better do it quickly,” Sam said. “Those things might just be licking their wounds. That big one seemed pretty pissed.”
Kyler walked across the room to where Zack and Michael sat. Kyler bent down in front of Zack and placed a hand gently on the teenager’s shoulder.
“Zack…” Kyler said, rubbing his shoulder. “Zack.”
“My dad tried to save me, Doctor,” the boy said, forcing a weak smile.
“What?”
“My dad…he came back for a second. He didn’t say anything or talk to me, or anything like that, but he came back. He took my gun and ran straight at them. It was like he was trying to save me.”
“Then it sounds to me like he died a hero,” Kyler said, trying to smile. “And if he did give his life for you, then you need to honor him by getting out of here.”
“But I want to kill them!” Zack shot back, his suddenly loud voice startling Kyler.
“I know, Zack, but the smartest thing to do right now is to get away,” Kyler told him. “That was the whole point of your father doing what he did…so that you would have a chance. Now, come on…let’s get Mike to his feet and get out of here.”
Kyler stood up and extended his hand. Zack wiped both of his eyes with one hand before finally taking Kyler’s, who then pulled him up off of the floor.
“Besides,” Kyler said, turning to Zora and Sam. “I know where they live now. We can go back tomorrow and…well…kill them, I guess.”
Kyler knew that tomorrow, the Dixon family and Samantha would be back in their human forms again. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill two women and an infant.
“But for now…” he said, turning back to Zack. “Let’s get these youngsters out of here. Okay?”
Zack nodded his head, and the two of them helped Michael Blum up off the floor.
“How’s that leg. Hurting?” Kyler asked Michael.
“No,” he lied.
“You know, Buddy, it helps us doctors out when you tell us that you’re in pain. We’re able to do more when we know where and how bad something hurts.”
“Well then, Doctor…” Michael started, looking up into his eyes. “It hurts like shit.”
Kyler chuckled at the boy’s comeback. He started to see if he still had some painkillers in his pocket, but decided against it. If they needed to move quickly, they couldn’t afford to have someone who was groggy or logy slowing them down.
“Sam’s right,” Zora said. “We need to get going in case they’re just recouping.”
“Okay then,” Kyler addressed the group. “Zack and I will help with Michael. Lauren. Are you good to walk?” Lauren nodded her head. “Do you think that you can carry little Kayla? We don’t have any more free hands.”
Again, Lauren nodded her head.
“Good,” he told Zora, placing Kayla gently into Lauren’s outstretched arms. “We’re good to go.”
For a moment, Kyler saw that soft look in her eyes again.
“Good,” she echoed, pulling out both pistols and handing one to Sam. “I’ll go in front, you four in the middle, and Sam in the back. Okay?”
They all nodded their heads. Kyler groaned from fatigue as he and Zack put Michael’s arms around their shoulders, and each picked him under a knee.
“Ready?” Zora asked, smiling at Kyler.
“Ready,” Kyler answered.
Zora slowly looked through the door and waved the others on. As they entered the hallway, they saw that that the naked headless body that had once been a werewolf had changed back into its human form. It was olive skinned or extremely tanned, Kyler wasn’t sure which. Great, Kyler thought to himself. We’ve got a headless body on one side of the hallway and a head and a whole lot of vomit on the other.
Sam walked around the group, bent down and dragged the corpse to the other side of the corridor, making a small path for them to walk through. He looked down at the head, which had also transformed back into human form.
“Know him?” Zora asked.
“I think his name was Martinez,” Sam answered, still looking down at the face, which looked almost peaceful. “He was a soldier.”
The group remained quiet for a moment. Just like with Opal Munn, it was a lot different when the body was human again. You couldn’t stay angry or repulsed when it was back in its human form. There was a sadness to the group as they looked down at Aurelio Martinez’ lifeless form.
“Come on,” Zora said, walking past him. “He’s at peace now.”
The group eased their way past the body and began to move quietly down the hallway, almost as if they were viewing a body at a funeral.
“Keep your eyes open, Sam,” Zora said over her shoulder, her gun by her side. “The elevator is a long way off.”
“Yes ma’am,” Sam replied, as the three moved silently down the long hallway.
Potts and FranAnne sat by the barricaded hole in the door, when they heard the first burst of gunfire since they had repelled the thing. FranAnne tensed up at the sound of Hawkins’ gunfire, but Potts remained calm. As the machine gun continued to roar overhead, Potts took out another cigar and lit it with a single match, and then turned to FranAnne.
“He’s B-a-a-a-ck,” he said grinning, adjusting the tourniquet on his shoulder that FranAnne had made for him.
Seeing Locklear standing behind them, looking extremely nervous, Potts took out the cardkey and held it up.
“O’Hearley, go join the others,” he told him.
Locklear started to take the cardkey, but then relented.
“No, I think I’ll be of more use up here,” he answered, moving back toward the security console. “Maybe I can at least get the cameras going again.
“Suit yourself.”
The gunfire from the rooftop stopped just in time for them to hear the sounds of heavy footfalls running toward the front door. FranAnne gripped her machine gun tightly and looked at Potts who was blowing a smoke ring while he waited. Potts looked through the hole to see the mammoth beast heading straight at them.
“Here he comes…ya’ see him?” Potts asked FranAnne.
“Yessir,” she answered, a slight quiver in her voice. Actually, all she saw was the beast’s dark form running straight at the building.
“Wait till it gets to about ten feet,” he said softly. “Then blast the hairy shit out of it. Okay?”
FranAnne didn’t answer, but continued to watch it as it got closer. Once again, they heard the gunfire from up above start up again. FranAnne silently prayed that Hawkins would hit it and kill it before it made its way to the door.
“On my command,” Potts said softly as he watched the beast, which was now no more than thirty feet away.
He could see Hawkins bullets landing all around it, but none of them were finding their mark. Probably should’ve put Fulton on the roof, he thought to himself. As the werewolf reached the twenty-foot mark, both Potts and FranAnne took aim. But the werewolf did something neither one of them had expected. As if it knew that the two-leggers were going to fire at ten feet, it took three giant steps and then leapt into the air, out of sight of the guns.
Potts looked up from his gun. “What the shi…”
Before he could finish, there was a huge crash against the door that shook the whole room, sending the desks and chairs into Potts and FranAnne, knocking them both backwards. FranAnne’s head hit the hard tile and her gun skidded away from her as two office chairs landed on top of her. She quickly pushed them aside and scrambled to her feet just in time to see the beast tearing the door open as if it were opening a tin of sardines. It let out a deafening roar as its claws tore at the metal.
FranAnne looked down to see Potts struggling under a desk and several chairs that had fallen on top of him. His gun had also been knocked from his hands.
“Shoot it!” he screamed to FranAnne.
FranAnne looked around for her gun, but couldn’t find it. She couldn’t find it because Locklear was holding it in his hands and aiming at the door. As she dove out of the way, Locklear let go with a burst toward the door. At first, the bullets were hitting the steel door and ricocheting back into the room. Potts covered his head as he tried to get out from under the pile of debris. Finally, one of the bullets found its mark, hitting the werewolf in the forearm. The creature screamed in pain and pulled away from the door.
Locklear dropped the gun and began to help FranAnne in pulling the desk and chairs off of Potts. They heard the gunfire from the roof again. Good. Hawkins was keeping it busy.
The two pulled Potts up off of the floor, and he immediately picked up his gun and began to fire through the hole. He heard a yelp from outside.
“Nicked it!” he yelled, looking sideways through the hole.
They could hear the werewolf growling. The double dosage of dog saliva and quicksilver was causing the thing more pain.
“Boy, I’ll bet you’re pissed now, ain’tcha’?” Potts screamed through the whole. “Come getcha some, Tiger!”
Like a vampire with an invitation to come inside, the werewolf took Potts up on his offer and began to hammer at the door, but keeping most of its body away from the gap.
“This bastard’s smart!” Potts told them, stepping over the rubble.
He pointed his gun through the hole again and began to fire.
“Shit! He’s put himself just out of reach!”
The creature continued to pound away angrily at the door, but keeping itself at bay at the same time. The only physical sign that they saw of the monster was when it reached its claw through the gap, and tore away a large portion of the metal, making the hole even larger.
Potts continued to fire through the gap. Once or twice, he heard a yelp of pain. Even the double dosed bullets didn’t seem to be killing it, but it was hurting a lot more than the single dosed ones.
FranAnne hadn’t been able to fire her gun. There wasn’t enough room for her and Potts at the side of the hole, and it wasn’t in front of the hole, so she couldn’t do anything but wait until she got a good shot.
She didn’t have to wait long, because Potts had emptied one of his two clips. As he reached for the other clip, the werewolf took the opportunity to start pulling the doors apart. With both claws inside the hole, it began to separate the steel doors, the metal screeching against the rollers.
As the doors began to separate, they could see the beast at its full height. It took up most of the doorway, leaving only about an inch gap between the top of the doors and its right ear. The top of the left one…the one that FranAnne hit…was gone and bleeding profusely.
“Fire!” Potts screamed at FranAnne.
FranAnne began to fire her gun straight at the door. The beast screamed in pain as several of the bullets hit it in the chest. Smoke, even more than before, began to pour out of the wound. The creature stepped back from the door, the gap now almost large enough for it to walk through. The thing roared in pain, anger, and fury. Locklear, who was ducking down behind the security console, put his hands to his ears.
They heard the beast run away from the building, immediately followed by the sound of rooftop fire.
“That’s it, Hawkins, let the bastard have it!” Potts screamed, as he replaced his clip.
Potts moved back to the middle next to FranAnne.
“Do you think it’s gone, Colonel?” She asked.
“Hell no! It’s up to something. This bastard’s been doing this for a long time. This isn’t his first tour of duty.”
Potts looked almost excited at being able to fight such a capable foe. After a moment, the gunfire from the rooftop stopped.
“He’s out of range right now,” Potts said. “Either that or he’s hiding behind something and Hawkins doesn’t want to waste any ammo on an uncertain shot.
“What do you think it’s doing?” Locklear asked from the console.
“I don’t know, but we’re gonna find out soon,” Potts answered.
The gunfire from above started up again.
“Here he comes!” Potts shouted.
Something crashed into the door so hard that it gave way, one door flying inside the room as if it were now a hinged door that opened inward. The other door doubled over itself and moved inward. The force of impact knocked the desk and chairs backwards towards Potts and FranAnne, but both had learned their lesson from the werewolf’s first attempt at knocking the down doors, and were well away from the debris.
Potts and FranAnne had naturally flinched and turned away at the sound of the crash. They both looked back to find that the werewolf was standing there holding the old white iron bathtub that the hurricane had blown into the front yard area. It had held it up and used it as a battering ram against the doors, and was now holding it up lengthways in front of its body, shielding itself from Potts and FranAnne’s sudden burst of gunfire. The bullets were clanking off of the iron. If it held it too long, the bullets would eventually tear the tub into pieces, but they weren’t going to get a chance, because the werewolf threw the tub straight at Potts and FranAnne, who both jumped in opposite directions as the tub landed just behind them making a loud clanking sound as it hit the floor.
The werewolf was moving through the barricade at full throttle, throwing desks, chairs, and computer terminals left and right as it made its way for Potts and FranAnne who were trying to get to their feet. As he regained his balance, Potts began to shoot at the werewolf, but the monster was too quick for him and threw a chair at him, missing Potts’ head by inches. FranAnne began to shoot at the beast, one bullet hitting the thing in the shoulder, causing it to scream. FranAnne got a good look at the thing’s angry yellow eyes, which were both trained on her.
She tried to fire at the beast which was now almost completely though the pile of debris, but her gun misfired. Potts got off a few good shots, hitting the werewolf in the side, making it stumble but not fall. Potts continued to fire on it, but had to stop when the werewolf threw a computer terminal at him. FranAnne still couldn’t get her gun to fire. She had put her other rifle down next to her while they had been waiting for the creature to attack, and now it was buried somewhere under the debris.
“Take off!” Potts screamed, as he removed his vest that held his four hand grenades. Potts joined FranAnne in the middle of the room and held up the vest. The beast was only feet from making its way through the pile of debris.
“O’Hearley!” Potts screamed as he and FranAnne began to move backwards down the hall behind them. “Get out here! O’Hearley!”
Locklear stuck his head out from the console room. He was now behind the werewolf. He watched stupefied as he saw Potts pull a grenade from the vest and hold it into the air.
“What are you going to do?” Locklear screamed.
“What in Dick’s name does it look like I’m going to do?” Potts answered, pulling the pin from the single grenade. “Get outside!”
Locklear didn’t need to be told twice. He began to move the rubble aside in an attempt to get outside. The werewolf heard him and turned around. It roared as Locklear tripped over a turned over chair, his large body falling down hard across it. Seeing its chance, the werewolf began to move toward Locklear. As it did, Potts pulled out his pistol and began firing into its back and knocking it forward. Seeing this, FranAnne remembered her pistol, pulled it and began to fire at it, too.
The werewolf turned back toward Potts and FranAnne as they fired at its head, two of Potts’ shots nicking the side of its face and causing it to yelp and roar as the smoke poured out of it.
“Run!” Potts screamed at FranAnne as he placed the vest down on the ground and placed the single grenade on top of it. “Get out O’Hearley!” he sc
reamed as he and FranAnne began running down the hallway.
Just as they rounded the corner the four grenades went off, the blast knocking them off their feet. The debris hit the wall at the end of the hallway where they would’ve been if they hadn’t made it around the corner. The whole hallway shook from the force of impact. The sheet rock over their heads began to fall down around them.
“Good thing we made it around the corner!” Potts yelled, holding his ears, his already white hair and face, covered with sheetrock and cinder.
“I hope Professor O’Hearley made it out in time!” FranAnne responded somewhat accusingly. The colonel hadn’t given Locklear much time to get outside.
“O’Hearley!” Potts yelled down the corridor. “O’Hearley!”
All was still for a moment as the two listened for any sign of movement. Both of them were sitting down with their backs to the wall. After a moment, Potts peeked around the corner. The front of the building was dark and almost completely destroyed, the two iron doors nowhere to be seen. The werewolf and Locklear O’Hearley were also nowhere to be seen.
Potts stood up, then extended his hand down to FranAnne. She took his hand and pulled herself up. Potts stepped into the hallway, FranAnne at his side.
“Damnation, Colonel…” FranAnne said.
“Yep.”
With their ears still ringing from the blast, the two began walking down the hallway. The debris that had been piled next to the door was mostly littering the hall now. No desk, chair, or anything else that had been near the blast remained in tact. The two could hardly take a step without stepping on some part of the building. There was a new pile of debris where the old pile had been sitting, but this pile was made up of ceiling and wall and the security room equipment. From where they stood, they could see that the whole front of the doorway area was gone now, floor to ceiling. There was nothing left but darkness in front of them, the large, bright, full moon shone into the now darkened room.
“Boy, someone is gonna be some kind of pissed when they see this.” Potts told FranAnne, as they got closer to the debris.