Pestilence: The Calling Series

by Faulks, Kim

  His gaze hardened, voice turned cold. I knew that look—and I knew that tone.

  Better than I should.

  I shoved the thought to the side and followed him into the house. Stainless and black was the theme, sparkling as we followed the hallway toward the far end of the house. I glanced right to the expansive lounge and TV screen. The place was perfect, more than perfect—and it was all for show.

  The kitchen speared off to my left, soft lights shone over the sink. I lifted my head to the tiny red sensor lights. Once you stepped out of the hallway the overhead lights came on. But this kitchen wasn’t one we frequented…all this was nothing more than a smoke screen of opulence—a show for anyone who didn’t know the quiet and very reserved Artemas Roth.

  We cut through the rest of the house and turned left at the base of a stairwell. Alpha stilled long enough to enter a code, and sleek glass doors to the elevator opened wide. I followed him inside, Gunny brought up the rear, there was barely a heartbeat before the doors closed and we made our descent.

  Gunny’s midnight hair glinted against crisp overhead lights, but it was the markings under her skin that held me. Moving to the surface like the throb of her heart before disappearing once more. “Irwin. Have we heard anything?”

  “He’s safe, setting up command at the Dragons’. Whoever torched his house was good. Electronic switches, handmade accelerants—ones that left no trace behind. We’re talking high-grade shit here. Stuff we’ve never seen before. Enemies to the north, enemies to the south. Enemies everywhere. Killing, burning, shooting damn dogs and leaving them to die.”

  Her shoulders curled, head lowered as the elevator came to a shuddering halt. The doors slid open to the bright lights of the real house, equipped with its own security detail. Gunny stepped out, and I followed.

  “You want this close?” Alpha asked.

  Yeah, I wanted it close. I wanted it so damn close that the steel would warm from my body, that I’d never lose sight of salvation ever again. I gripped the straps and lifted the rifle bag from his shoulder.

  “Ace. It’s good to see you, son. How’s the shoulder?”

  The deep passionate voice echoed from the other end of the hallway. Artemas Roth stepped into the soft lights of the expansive room, and as always I felt a little underdressed, a little small, and very fucking insignificant by comparison.

  He closed the distance in long, powerful strides to grip my good hand. There was no grinding of bones, no testosterone-driven power play. There was kindness in his dark eyes and warmth in his voice as he leaned in. “I’ve called in Monica; she’ll be here any minute to take a look at that shoulder. I want you to know I’m here to do everything in my power to make sure you recover as fully as possible. Anything you need, you come to me and it’s yours.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate that, Senator, but I’ll be fine. I just want to understand what’s going on.”

  That spark of warmth seemed to dull in his eyes. He glanced to X and then to Alpha. “Alpha will fill you in on everything we know. Right now, we’re together and that’s all that matters. I’ve sent the rest of Alpha’s team with those who live in Soteria out to my compound in The Val Ornan River. They’ll be safe there, with enough supplies to last a good number of weeks. Besides it’s not shifters they’re after.”

  “Who the Hell are they after?”

  “Us,” Alpha snarled and hauled my pack onto a long table and turned to face me. “They’re after us.”

  “Alpha,”—Artemas moved closer—“have you heard from your father? I spoke to Clark this morning. He was supposed to meet my guy at Soteria to be picked up. I wanted him safe. I wanted him here.”

  Alpha shook his head and dragged the phone from his pocket. “I wouldn’t worry, not yet. He doesn’t exactly keep time these days. No one knows he’s alive.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “While no one does, he’s okay.”

  Pieces of the puzzle slipped into place as we waited for Clark to answer the phone, until Alpha shook his head and ended the call.

  That warning, that voice in my gut had been nagging since I woke in the hospital. “The sniper at the compound.”

  “Yeah, the sniper at the damn compound. Seems like he wasn’t just after us. He was there for Newman, and if the bastard hadn’t escaped he’d be dead, one way or another.”

  “First Sergeant Stokes?”

  Alpha nodded. “Yeah. Hell, the Huntress too for all we know. They’re a special task force sanctioned by the President himself, and calling themselves ‘The Shadow Government’ and it looks like they’re cleaning house.”

  “Jesus…Jesus…”

  Gunny cut through the room and headed for the hallway. I followed the movement, glanced at the open doorway to the kitchen, and then dragged my focus farther to a small medical suite that’d put a first class hospital to shame. We had everything down here. An armory, a command center—even a gym. All nestled within four walls made of concrete and steel.

  The entire bunker was equipped with overhead sprinklers, air intake monitors and state of the art infrared CCTV cameras, all fed back to the command center at the rear of the hallway where two highly trained guards watched the senator’s back twenty-four-seven.

  A blare cut through the speaker above. I wrenched my head upward as Artemas winced at the feedback through the two-way on Alpha’s hip and the one in his hand. “Senator, we’ve got an unidentified late-model Silver Camry on the monitor.”

  “That sounds like Monica.” He glanced at me and turned, speaking into the handset. “Monica Ire. Can you check the records?”

  Gunny started after him, striding out with an awkward gait as the two-way echoed. “Yes Sir, license plates match.”

  “Then let her in.”

  I followed Gunny along the hall to the infirmary, passing the Senator’s pride and joy: a small sunset-yellow picture of Botticelli’s Map of Hell.

  I glanced at the image, drawn to the cone shaped drawing, and the tiny figures captured inside Dante’s Inferno. The picture unnerved me—even the fine paper with its feathered and torn edges. The copy so perfect, Artemas hinted it was the real thing.

  Nine rings…led to nine levels…I’d heard Artemas talk about it once.

  I searched my memory trying to remember his exact words…something like it the picture was an almost accurate representation. Whatever the Hell that meant.

  Chatter slipped through the hallway as Artemas opened the door to the command room and stepped inside.

  The ex-swat officer, Mike, sat hunched over a desk and stared into the wall mounted screen. I knew the guy, trained with him on the range. He glanced at Artemas, then Gunny, and nodded at me. “Either she’s having engine trouble, or something’s not right.”

  I watched as the car lunged, then swung wide losing momentum, and careened off the driveway and ran over a small shrub. Artemas stepped forward. “Switch angles, can we get a better view of inside the car?”

  Mike punched the buttons, cutting from one camera to the other and then used the zoom. A woman hunched over the wheel and then yanked her head upward to push against the seat. The Senator grabbed his phone and scrolled his thumb across the screen.

  “There are no bullet holes in the windshield, or the right hand side. I can’t tell if she’s in distress, Sir, or if she’s intoxicated—it’s too dark to make out.”

  Artemas lifted the phone to his ear and shook his head. His brows furrowed as he waited for her to answer the call, and then shook his head again. “She’s a highly trained doctor and a damn professional who’s on top of her game. She’s not going to attend intoxicated—that’s just not her. Something’s wrong. Mike, send one of your team out there. I want them at that car before she pulls to a stop.”

  He gave a sharp nod and then punched a button.

  “I’m going out there.” Gunny stepped around the Senator and headed for the door.

  “Regan…” Artemas started, slowing Gunny’s steps.

  “I’m not going to sit here an
d risk another life. No one is going to bleed for me, Artemas. Never again.”

  She didn’t need to turn her head, didn’t need to meet my gaze.

  I’d never say the words, but that didn’t change the fact that Gunny knew the bullet I took had been for her.

  She left behind the heavy thud of her boots and headed down the hall. In that moment I couldn’t stand to see her alone, couldn’t stand the fact that even though the Senator’s men were highly skilled at what they did—they just weren’t me. “I’m going too.”

  I made for the doorway, catching Alpha as he gave the Senator a shrug, and then followed with his mate close behind. This was what a team was, where one went the other followed. No matter the threat—no matter the cost. I grabbed my rifle and my bag and headed for the elevator.

  Gunny was already there, punching the buttons and holding the door. I yanked the wrist pouch from my bag and slid it over my hand as Alpha pushed in front.

  “You good to go with that arm?”

  I gave a nod. “Don’t you worry about me, Gunny. I’ve got your back.”

  The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open. We moved like an extension of one seamless machine. Alpha held out a two-way as I moved past Gunny and made my way to the rear of the house. I pressed the earpiece into place and powered on, as I shoved through the rear door and stepped outside.

  My damn shoulder roared with agony as I gripped the steel ladder attached to the side of the house and heaved. I could hear the engine and the high-pitched whine that no CCTV camera could catch. Gunny’s voice filled my ears, but I focused on crouching low and moving into position.

  I eased the zipper open and grabbed the stock, drawing my rifle free. This was mine, my weapon, my life…my purpose. I crouched lower, moving closer to the front of the house. Moonlight glinted off the silver Camry as the car neared at a crawl.

  The butt nestled against my good shoulder as I settled and stared through the scope. Moonlight glinted off the windshield, giving me little to go on as the sedan crept toward the front door and pulled to a stop.

  There was no movement. No call for help. No exiting the vehicle—and the hairs on the back of my neck started to rise. I scanned the driveway, and then across the area to the road.

  “Anything, Ace?” Gunny’s call cut through.

  I pressed the button on my mic and murmured. “Nothing, but I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. Permission to take out her front tire.”

  There was a second before she answered. “Confirmed, front tire.”

  As the vehicle moved past, I pulled the focus back down to the side of the tire. One shot, nice and neat, put a hole right through the top of it. But it was the movement inside the vehicle I watched.

  There was nothing, no scream for help, no jerk of movement. I hit my mic. “Nothing. Either she’s dead, or she’s incapacitated.”

  Gunny’s response cut through. “I’m moving out.”

  I divided my focus, taking in the car and the surrounds. Above me the moon seemed to pulse like a heartbeat, making me sweat. I scanned the small shrubs as movement came from below.

  I knew Gunny could somehow feel the damn moon in her veins, and I knew what those black marks under her skin meant. She was no longer human…hadn’t been since that night we rescued the Dragon and lost Stitch.

  A spark. Just a flash, enough to make me swing the rifle. The glint was barely there, moving so slow anyone else would miss it. It was a black four by four moving up to the gate. “Hold on. I’ve got movement four hundred yards out. Black four by four, moving too close for my damn liking.”

  “Friend or foe, Ace?”

  I waited, taking long slow breaths and watched the damn thing come closer…closer…

  “Friend or foe?”

  My belly tightened, balls squeezed. Headlights illuminated the driveway as the black beast lunged, ramming the gate. The squeal of metal on metal filled my ears, even from here I could see them backing to ram once more as I touched my mic and yelled. “Foe…I repeat, foe!”

  10

  Ghost

  Trees moved differently now. Spreading out with inky fingers to claw my face. I ducked my head, spearing deeper into the belly of the forest, and kept on moving.

  Not far now.

  Not far to home.

  The snap of a twig behind me stilled my steps. I pressed my hand over my belly and surged faster. I could smell them, half urine, half kill. They bathed in the stench, masking their own, and hunted.

  You’re the weak now.

  You’re the meal.

  Spirit moved inside me, finding the claw, pushing it to the surface. I licked dry lips and tried to wet my mouth. Damp hair clung to my shoulders and strangled my neck as I moved. I wanted to lick, I wanted to heal. A shudder raced through my belly, the sun burned within.

  It hurt me…spreading into my chest.

  Keep moving. Home soon.

  We can make it. We can hide.

  The whisper of a growl slipped through the darkness as the pack closed in. The flash of pale fur followed as I skimmed my hand against the mossy log and shoved.

  Steps blurred in the darkness. I moved by feel and that knowing inside me…the knowing where my spirit lay. Scents invaded, some old—some new. Warning me to keep moving. Moonlight cut through the gaps in the trees…and up ahead, through the darkness, home waited.

  A cramp gripped my belly, twisting something deep inside. A whimper ripped free as my knee buckled. I slammed my hand out, hitting something cold and wet, and tried to stop the fall.

  Snarls moved in, faster now…soft paws thundering, lunging. I shoved up from the ground and spun, finding the flash of fangs in the dark. Spirit roared inside me, curling my lips, meeting the Wolf with a beast of my own.

  The claw pushed higher, stealing the air in my lungs as I stumbled backwards. Skin of my spirit slid lower, stealing the warmth from my body, and making its own. The rumble in my chest deepened, rippling through my chest and into my mouth.

  My knees buckled, driving me to the ground as the warm sheath covered me, stealing my flesh and my sight. A sickening crunch tore through my hip, body shifted, hunkering lower, turning two legs into four.

  My nails lengthened, fingers thickened, palms pushed forward through pine needles and into the dirt. Survival burned my throat as the growl slipped free…Stay away…don’t make me hurt you…don’t make me kill.

  The wolves flanked my sides as I stumbled, feet slipped, finding movement, finding rhythm. The growl turned to a whimper as I licked the air. The sweet scent of blood drew the wolves closer, white fangs gnashed in the dark.

  I stumbled, lunged. Heavy paws thundered as I moved faster through the crowded forest…

  Fangs grazed my thighs and nipped my heels. I spun, roaring with desperation. Get back!

  But the beasts hunted me… Muscles tightened, tendons pulled, making the wound in my side weep. Panting breaths filled the air with a sickening beat. I pushed harder, forcing momentum to take me as I carved a path through the darkness and out into the open.

  Faster, Spirit urged. They’ll come…try to take us down.

  The earth trembled under the pounding of my paws. I drove harder, finding a familiar thicket in the distance as the moon moved higher in the sky. Make it to the next point…just make it to that.

  The burn carved through my lungs and along my throat. Thunder of paws echoed around me, pain slashed my flank, heavy as the wolf bit down, dragging my hind leg under.

  I hit the ground, skidded, and spun. He was a beast in the night, big and black—savaging my hide. Claws carved the air, his pointed ears flattened as he ducked. Rage filled me, stifling the agony. I hunkered down and stumbled, heaving his body into the air, only to have him land on his feet.

  More came…circling me—moving closer on all sides. I slashed the air. Pointed nails found substance, skimming my silver fur to sink deep.

  The release was instant as the wolf dropped, rolled, and slowly climbed to his feet. His
front leg gave out, taking the beast to the ground. I heaved my body backwards, turned, and lunged. Survival pushed the pain aside, driving my paws harder into the earth.

  I ran harder until the only thunder that echoed was me.

  The moon drove higher in the sky, slipping overhead to fall on the other side as I left the pack behind. Forest turned to open land, and then a river—small, trickling. I slowed long enough to ease the burn in my chest—and then pushed on.

  Past the mountain, down into the gully…until the sky above lightened and a tiny shadow rose on the horizon. My steps stuttered, claws grazed dirt as the word resounded…

  Home.

  11

  Ace

  “Get down!” I screamed…but Gunny refused to obey, charging across the circular drive toward the silver Camry.

  Alpha sprinted after her, no more than ten steps behind, legs pumping, weapon pistoning. I swung the sight toward the gate as the hulking beast slammed into the steel once more.

  Hinges tore. The thick boxset buckled, driving the corner of the gate into the dirt as the vehicle ploughed through.

  “Get back inside Gunny,” I snarled, rested the stock on the edge of the building and took aim. Friend or foe…friend or fucking foe. If they weren’t on my side—then they were in our way.

  I exhaled, stilled, and then squeezed. The ping echoed, still the beast motored. I took aim again, and squeezed. The pop of a tire hissed and the front of the vehicle pulled to the side. The driver fought to keep the beast straight as I lined up the front grille. Two well-placed shots sent steam into the air.

  “I can’t get the damn door open!” Gunny yelled, dragged her weapon free and stepped to the side.

  The boom of her Sig filled the air, but the four by four was bearing down like a goddamn runaway locomotive.

  One shot…one kill…

  The sniper’s motto reverberated inside me. We were civilians now, and had been for some time…and the transition from war to being here had been tough. I settled my sights on the driver, gauging the motion of the car. In the corner of my eye Gunny was reaching through the window, unlocking the door and wrenching it open to fumble with the Doctor.