*
The man, Ernie, looked like he wanted to ask what Dean meant, but he kept his mouth shut and obeyed Dean. He posted up to the left of the door, his rifle aiming outward. Dean was on the other side of the door, now completely naked.
“Get ready,” he said. Then he started to shift. The homeowner’s eyes went wide, but he must have realized what was happening, and instead of running or panicking, he held his ground. When Dean was completely shifted, the man looked at him and nodded.
“Here goes,” he said, aiming.
*
From the kitchen, Gina heard the gunshot go off, deafening her in the house. Already? That wasn’t good. She and the older woman were around the corner, the woman’s hands still as she held the rifle. She looked like she knew what she was doing.
Gina risked peeking her head around the corner. She heard screams from outside from a man that had been shot; obviously Ernie hadn’t killed him. And then there was a barrage of gunfire on the house. Gina heard the bullets impacting the walls, the windows shattering. One of the bowls of sugar in the kitchen was hit by a ricochet and was suddenlyed an explosion of white.
Still, Gina couldn’t look away. Dean was on the inside of the wall and he swiped at one of the men who came barreling in, unworried about his safety. Dean’s claws caught him squarely. The man screamed in pain, then his screams turned to gurgles as Dean tore into his throat.
“There’s one coming around back, honey!” the old man yelled. Just a moment later, the back door that led into the kitchen exploded inward, splinters of wood flying across the room. The old woman screamed and aimed her rifle, pulling the trigger as a man tried coming in. He fired, his bullet wildly flying through the air and hitting her in the leg. The woman went down, the rifle sliding across the floor towards Gina.
The man was coming in now, thinking that he had got his quarry. Gina jumped forward, grabbing the rifle, and aimed it up.
Could she do this? Kill a man? She would have to, or she would die. Dean would die. Petey would die. This old couple who had done nothing wrong would die.
The man aimed his rifle at the woman on the floor, who had her hands up pleading, and Gina pulled the trigger. He had never even seen her. The bullet took him in the side of his head. He was dead before he hit the ground.
The older woman looked at her with awe and relief. Gina dropped to her knees in front of the woman, tearing at her pants and checking her wound. It was just a slight graze.
“We have a medical kit in the bag outside,” she told the woman. “It was just a graze. We’ll get you patched up and you’ll be fine.”
The woman nodded, gasping in pain. Gina got up, careful of her ankle, and looked towards the living room. Dean was nowhere to be seen, but the old man was at the door, rifle aimed but not taking any shots.
“What’s going on?” Gina asked, limping up to him, hardly noticing the dead body at her feet.
“I can’t get a shot!” the man yelled. Gina looked past him and saw what he was talking about. Outside, Dean was in his bear form, standing on two legs, roaring. He was swiping at two men, who each held long knives in their hands. They were spinning around Dean, darting in and out, quicker than he could attack back. A third man lay in the yard, screaming in pain, his hands a red mess at his stomach.
One of the men darted in, scoring a good hit on Dean. He turned and swiped, scratching the man’s arm, but not disabling him. The man behind Dean launched, his knife outstretched, and Dean never saw him coming. Gina opened her mouth to scream a warning, but then she saw a brown blur at the man’s feet.
The man screamed at the same time Gina yelled, “Petey! No!”
But it was enough time for Dean to turn towards the man. He swiped a paw out, catching the man squarely in the chest. There was a spray of blood and the man was dead. The last man started to back up, trying to sprint away towards the truck, but it was pointless. Dean growled, and then Ernie aimed his rifle and put a round squarely through the runner’s back. Then he turned towards the wounded man on the ground, who was pleading, and shot him, too.
Gina watched as Dean shifted back, crouching down in the yard. She limped out, carrying his clothes with her.
“Dean! Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine,” he told her, giving her a tired smile. “Just worn out. They didn’t get me good.”
Gina ran her hands over Dean’s body. He was right. He was cut shallowly in a few places, but there was no serious damage done. This time. She handed Dean his clothes and he took them and started to dress.
Petey was at her feet, barking and wagging his tail. “Good job, Petey. But don’t do that again!”
Gina made her way back towards their duffel bag and grabbed the medical kit. She went inside, taking care to take it easy on her ankle, and then dropped down at the woman’s side. She cleaned the wound, stitched it up, and then bandaged it up as best she could. As she did, Dean came in and lifted the dead body, taking it outside.
“I’m sorry about all of this,” Gina told the woman. “We had no idea you were still inside. We were desperate.”
“It’s okay,” the woman said, wincing as she got to her feet.
Together, they limped towards the front yard, where Dean and the man were loading up the bodies into the back of the truck.
“We need to leave, soon,” Dean told her. Gina nodded.
“They’ll come looking for these guys when they don’t check back in,” the old man said. “You guys need to be long gone before they start looking.”
“How many men are there?” Dean asked.
The older man shrugged. “Don’t know. A lot. They’re like some sort of gang. They come roaring up and down this road at all hours of the day and night.”
“I’m sorry we brought them to you,” Gina said.
The man shrugged again. “It was only a matter of time. But if you get out of here soon, then we might have some more time.”
Dean nodded and they firmly shook hands. “Good luck.”
The man nodded back and handed him a rifle. Gina and Petey made their way towards the truck and climbed in. Dean grabbed the duffel bag and followed.
“What now?” Gina asked when Dean climbed in and started the truck. “We’re going to be a target in this truck.”
“I know,” Dean said, as they started driving away. “But we owe it to that couple to get the bodies and truck out of their neighborhood. We’ll stash it somewhere out of the way and make our way towards the center of town on foot. With any luck, we’ll stay hidden.”
“I hope you’re right,” Gina said. Dean sounded confident when he said that, but Gina didn’t feel the same confidence that he did. They had barely been in North Williamstown for 30 minutes before they’d had a gunfight with some despicable people.
That gang. She shuddered. All things considered, the fight had gone as well as it could have. But how long would their luck last? Gina didn’t think their next encounter with these men would go as smoothly as this one had.
They had one gun, no knives, no food, and no idea where they were really going. She was injured, though her ankle wasn’t giving her as many problems as it had. And now, they were driving a truck through a dangerous city, loaded down with the men who had tried to kill them, and who undoubtedly had friends who would start looking for them.
They drove for a couple of minutes through the neighborhood, making their way towards the town proper. Dean turned down a side street and came to a screeching halt. Gina felt herself flung forward in the seat and Petey yelped in surprise as he landed on the floor mat.
“Dean?” Gina asked, looking over at him. “What’s wrong?”
Then she turned and looked towards the front of the truck. Things had just gotten even worse.
“Gina, get down,” Dean growled. She didn’t obey. Looking in front of her, Gina saw a scene of carnage. Bodies were strewn across the street, four in all, and above them, stood two men and a woman.
“Hold on,” Dean ordered her.
“Wait!” the woman screamed. She sprinted towards the truck, arms up, tears streaming down her face. “Please, you have to help us!”
Dean started to inch forward, but Gina yelled, “Stop!”
Dean shot her a glare. “It’s a trap.”
“How do you know?” Gina asked. Dean shrugged. “Something could have happened to them.”
Dean wasn’t happy as he grabbed the rifle, getting out of the truck and aiming it at the woman who was approaching his driver’s side window. He rolled the window down with one hand, bracing the rifle on it. Gina could tell it was for two reasons: the first was to keep the woman back and give him some cover. The second was to keep her away from the back of the truck.
“Our friends,” the woman started, her breaths hitching in sobs. She could hardly talk, tears were still rolling down her cheeks and snot was pouring out of her nose. “Something happened to them. They just dropped a few hours ago. Please, help us!”
Dropped? Gina’s warning sirens immediately went off. Was this some kind of virus? She wouldn’t be surprised. This was the perfect time for new viruses to sprout up, born out of the death and dirt of the new world. A new virus could even be the reason the bombs went off in the first place. Containment.
“Here, Dean, put this on,” Gina said, pulling a mask out of their duffle bag. She donned the second one. They were the only two that had survived the fire, safe in their single medical kit. She grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and pulled those on, as well.
Dean eyed the mask, but took it and slipped it over his face, never taking his eyes off of the woman.
“We’re going to take a look. I’m a doctor,” Gina said, getting out of the truck. Dean gestured with the rifle and the woman backed off, going towards her friends. Gina approached, looking at them first. They were dirty, their jeans ripped, but they didn’t appear to be armed.
“Hands up,” Dean ordered. The men glared at him and didn’t comply.
“Why? So you can shoot us?” one spat.
“Hands up, or I kill you all and we leave now. I’ve survived too long out here to take any chances with people like you.”
Gina wanted to tell him to calm down, but what he was saying was perfectly reasonable. She looked over at him. The first man nodded and put his hands behind his head. The second followed suit, then the woman.
“If they make any move, any at all, shoot them,” Dean told her and handed her the rifle. Gina nodded. She knew she could do that now. Raising the rifle, she watched as Dean patted down the three. When he was satisfied, he took a step backwards and took the rifle back from Gina. “Okay, they’re clean. Check it out.”
Gina, feeling safe, went over to the bodies on the ground. Three were men and the last was a woman.
“Tell me what happened,” she said. Her knees screamed in protest, kneeling in the street, but at least she was off of her ankle.
“We were out looking for supplies,” the woman said, kneeling down beside her. “They hadn’t been feeling good lately. And then they all just collapsed. We tried helping them…but…”
She was crying again. Gina tuned her out for a few moments, checking one of the men first. She pulled up his shirt. There were no wounds that would indicate a bullet wound or stabbing. He was wearing some ratty athletic shorts, one of the reasons she had chosen this man, so checking his legs was easy. There was nothing there to indicate any foul play, either.
“Help me roll him over,” Gina said. The woman managed to help, even through her sobs.
His back was the same case as the front. There was nothing there to indicate he’d been murdered. She checked the back of his head and his skull. There was no sign of blunt force trauma.
Had this man really died of a virus? Was there a new plague? What was the transmission vector? Airborne? If so, were she and Dean already exposed? Was it transported in the water supply? Maybe some type of animal?
Or maybe it was just some rotten food harboring some bacteria. The possibilities could be endless, and without a proper lab and testing equipment, she wasn’t sure if she could reach a conclusion.
“Did they eat anything specific?” she asked.
One of the men spoke up behind her, “We’ve been eating from the same supply of canned vegetables.”
Gina considered it. It was technically possible that they had eaten some bad canned food, but extremely unlikely.
“Do you think that could be it? Are we safe?” the woman asked. Her tears had mostly stopped, but she still sniffled every other word.
“I don’t know,” Gina said. She moved towards the woman lying dead on the ground. She inspected her, too. It was the same case as the first man. She heard footsteps coming up behind her and glanced back, seeing Dean come close.
“Give us a second,” he ordered the woman. She heard the tone in his voice and didn’t argue, scrambling off to join her friends. “Something isn’t adding up.”
Gina looked down at the people on the ground: ratty and torn clothing, to be expected from people in this town. Malnourished bodies.
She shook her head. Something was nagging at her. Dean was right: something wasn’t adding up.
She turned to the others and looked them over. Their clothes were ratty, too. And dirty. Extremely dirty, like they’d been living under a bridge. She looked back at those on the ground.
How had she missed it before?
The four on the ground had torn up clothes, but they were far from dirty. For the most part, they were clean. They were a stark contrast to the other three. It didn’t look like they’d been together. They looked like two separate sets of people. Still, it didn’t prove anything.
For one, there were no murder weapons. It was possible someone had fled with the weapons, but what reason would they have for that? She doubted they were expecting a truck to roll up and catch them in the act.
Plus, that woman was torn up. Gina turned to her. She saw the woman flash one of the men a smile. Was it all an act?
“What killed them?” one of the men asked, coming close behind them. Dean turned and aimed the rifle in his general direction.
“I don’t know,” Gina said. It was true, she couldn’t figure it out. She felt around the woman’s throat, checking for inflamed nodes. Nothing. She trailed her finger down the woman’s neck, baffled, and then something came to her.
She turned back, leaning close and inspecting the neck, and there it was. Just the slightest hint of bruising, still forming. Had these people been strangled? She suspected in a short while, the bruises would be evident.
She crawled over to another man. There was some redness on his neck, and just by his Adam’s apple, more bruising. The next man had even more bruising, though unless you were trained for it, Gina didn’t think anyone would notice this early.
These four had been strangled. She was kneeling on the ground, and turned around, face level with the man’s hips. Holding up his baggy jeans was a thick, black belt. She looked past him, the other two had belts, as well. So they did have weapons, after all.
“I think I have an idea of what killed them,” Gina announced, getting up. The three instantly became agitated.
“What?” the closest asked. He took a few hesitant steps towards her, trying to play it off like he was inspecting the bodies.
“It looks like a severe strain of the flu,” she lied. It was a flimsy excuse at best, but she didn’t think these people would argue.
“Oh, okay,” the man said.
MUNDO (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 2) Page 69