by Pat Cunningham, Savanna Kougar, Rebecca Gillan, Solara Gordon, Serena Shay
“We need an elephant gun,” Ewan said.
“What the hell for?”
Ewan pointed out the window. “For the elephant.”
That got the kid’s mind off his cell. He pressed his face to the window and gawped at the mutated mammoth wading through, or in most cases on top of, the slew of cars stalled out on the two-lane, while their drivers wisely fled on foot.
By now the police had arrived. The cop cars hung well back. There wasn’t much they could do against this sort of traffic hazard.
Meanwhile, Ewan and Deuce did a quick inventory of the gun racks. “Is this all you got?” Ewan called.
“Yeah. Where are the assault rifles?” Deuce demanded. “You’re a gun store in America. You’re supposed to have assault rifles. The right to bear arms and blow shit up and all that.”
The kid wrenched his gawp away from the window. “We don’t carry those. Just regular hunting gear. I mean, since when does Montana have elephants?”
Obviously the kid had never ventured into Talbot’s Peak itself. Ewan assessed and mentally discarded the array of rifles, compound bows, hunting knives and other sportsmen’s implements of mass game destruction. Nothing here would pack enough wallop to even put a dent in the former Freddie le Douche. What could they use that would stop him without putting Maureen at risk?
“I can’t let you have a gun anyway,” the kid continued. “There’s a waiting period. It’s the law.”
Deuce jabbed his finger at the window and the chaos beyond. “He’s not waiting.”
“He’s not trying to buy a gun. The best I can do is sell you a bow. The elf guy killed an elephant with a bow in that hobbit movie, right? That should work.”
Yeah, if you were a stunt man working with props and the elephant would be added later via CGI. Live, PO’d mutant werewolf/mammoth hybrids were trickier. Especially when they had your mate trapped on their back.
Ewan turned away from the gun racks. The kid did have a point. He’d seen “Lord of the Rings” several times, especially the last one with all the action sequences. A gun wasn’t going to cut it. If only he could get close enough to get Maureen out of harm’s way â�¦
Maybe, just maybe, he could. All he needed was a different movie.
He bolted for another section of the store. Yes. They had what he wanted. He yanked one out of its rack and waved it at the kid. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” the kid said warily. “We don’t get much call for those around here. I don’t see whatâ��”
“I’m taking it for a test drive. Bill me.” Ewan grabbed Deuce’s arm and charged out the door with his weapon of choice gripped tight in his other hand. This would work. It had to.
God, it was said, looked after little children and idiots. Chaos didn’t look after anybody. Coyotes quickly got used to handling disaster on their own. And they were damn good at it, too.
Ewan and Deuce piled into the car. The former Freddie had already left the strip behind and was moving at a rapid clip up the road. Ewan dodged Dante’s muscle car around abandoned RVs and soccer mom mobiles and took off in pursuit.
****
Abram Turkle’s daughter Sharon liked to listen to the police scanner while she did her chores. Now she called out to him. “Pa! Come listen to this. Something weird’s going on down at the exit.”
Turkle listened intently to the hysterical voice of the dispatcher and the disjointed reports from cops trying their mightiest to stay calm in the face of insanity. As he listened, his grin got wider and wider.
When he figured he had the full picture, Turkle went into the den, where his house guest was field-stripping and cleaningâ��with the proper care and reverence, Turkle was pleased to noteâ��the family’s collection of defensive weaponry. The man had a keen eye for quality hardware and healthy respect for a gun. Pity about his human parentage. He’d’ve made a damn fine turkey.
“Trouble down at the exit,” Turkle announced. “Sounds like a woolly mammoth’s running loose.”
Cochrane glanced up from his cleaning. His glance became a stare when he realized Turkle wasn’t kidding. Not that Turkle was much of a kidder to start with. “Woolly mammoth? Aren’t they extinct?”
“Guess this one didn’t get the memo. Y’wanna go kill something big?”
Cochrane got up. His grin matched Turkle’s for sheer ferocity. “Point me at it.”
Chapter Thirty-six:
On a Mission of Mercy While the Hellephant Rampages
By Savanna Kougar
The day before Mammoth-zilla…
About to lift the stein of ale, and enjoy a long draw of the premium brew, Dante paused, then asked, “Gorgio, what can I do for you?”
The goat shapeshifter approached, a nervous smile on his Greek-handsome face. Popular with the lady patrons at the pub, Dante had recently promoted Gorgio to a head server, a raise in pay included, of course.
“Sorry to disturb you, boss. I know you must be busier thanâ��”
“Yeah,” Dante interrupted, taking hold of the printed page Gorgio was about to crumple by handling it too much.
“My friends are in danger. Since you don’t allow cell phones here…” Gorgio bleated the explanation, even as Dante began reading the intriguing but disturbing news article.
‘Werewolf’ wreaks havoc on livestock in Central Philippine island
A series of livestock attacks, occurring during the full moon, has Manilla farmers on edge.
Manila: Bloodsucking creatures are devastating livestock herds in the island of Sibale.
Residents are at a loss over what vicious animal would leave only carcasses of its prey after feasting on them.
An article published recently by the Manila Standard Today said farmers are becoming increasingly fearful of the creature, which strikes when the moon is full, sucks the blood of its prey and tears off the limbs of livestock such as goats.
“It’s a continuing goat massacre happening at the onset of the full moon almost every year since 2012. So far, more than 200 goats had been massacred by this unknown killer,” Sibale Mayor Lemuel Cipriano was quoted as saying by the report.
Locals believe that the culprit was similar to the mythical werewolf, a creature that strikes during the evening and transforms into a four-legged creature. ~gulfnews.com/news/world/philippines/werewolf-wreaks-havoc-on-livestock-in-central-philippine-island-1.1359060~
****
“Nifty, effing nifty,” Dante growled in his about to shift into a werewolf voice. He scanned the panel instrumentation of Blade Runner’s disc-shaped space craft, then watched the ET rabbit shifter expertly control their descent into the Philippine jungle.
“Damn trippy ride through that dimensional rift…like surfing atop Jello,” White Fang gutturally commented, then elbowed Dante.
Dante’s super wolf buddyâ��technically another ET from a planet ruled by wolf shapeshiftersâ��pointed to the wide screen above the panel. “Looks like we’ve been discovered.”
An array of formidable, futuristic cannons emerged into view. Perched on a rugged, massive cliff above the towering treetops, the sci fi weapons raised into position, obviously targeting them.
“And a fun time was had by all,” Blade Runner drily smirked.
He dived the small craft directly toward the cannons. They picked up speed so fast, Dante could barely make out the approaching landscape with his superior vision.
As laser beams streaked and flashed, Blade Runner zigzagged them through the constant fire like a rabbit evading a predator. In this case though, instead of running, Blade Runner played dodge ball, or dodge-the-laser.
Dante resisted the urge to clutch his stomach. Blade Runner had warned him about the physical effects of flying and maneuvering at supersonic speed. At the same time, he grinned, his wolf fangs scraping the corners of his mouth. Wolf hunting howls, his blood rushed through his veins with the wild-thrill ride.
Quick enough, Blade Runner danced the craft past the long establ
ished black-ops base. Slowing, the warrior rabbit shifter dipped them beneath the umbrella of foliage, then sailed a path that would take them straight to the cave lair of the so-called werewolves.
Before boarding the craft, White Fang had flown Super Man style over the island of Sibale. He’d used his incredible powers on the reconnaissance mission, discovering the daytime lair of the five beast men, a race ancient to the Earth.
Problemâ��according to the psychic remote viewers in the Peak’s Witch Circleâ��the bestial predators were being programmed by mad scientists at the secret base. Also, their DNA, and even their seed, was being used to build a legion of monster soldiers.
Within minutes, Blade Runner hovered above the cavern, hidden by a blanketing layer of vines. On screen Dante watched the five, thickly furred bipedals with canine heads awaken, and leap to their feet.
“They’ve been warned about us,” White Fang stated in his warrior voice. “I attempted to mind contact them. It’s been blocked by their brain implants.”
“Magneto grid around them, too,” Blade Runner reported. “My limited weaponry can’t penetrate. You’re on your own, wolf boys. I’ll hold down the fort, as your human counterparts say. Or more precisely, I’ll keep the frequencies now targeting my ship from blowing it into ion particles.”
“No choice.” The words growled up from Dante’s gut. His wolf had sensed the killers unsatiated need for a bloody feeding could only be stopped by death.
With his fur sprouting fast, and his shift to full werewolf accelerating by the moment, Dante focused his altered gaze on the ramp Blade Runner now lowered. Beside him, Dante keenly felt White Fang morph to his wolf form, his force nearly overwhelming.
In sync, and on all fours, they both launched out of the craft. Side by side, he and White Fang raced toward the cavern’s small entrance.
As he ran, the bloodthirsty side of Dante exploded, then consumed his very being. He rarely entered this state, but when he did…
He sprang, his jaws snapping around the bipedal werewolf’s huge throat. Dante drove his fangs deeper and deeper as they savagely wrestled body to body, claw to slashing claw. All the while, the enormous fangs and claws of another bestial wolf man ripped at his hide.
After several quick rolls, Dante tore out his foe’s throat. In the great spray of blood soaking him, he whirled on the beast wolf ruthlessly attacking his flank.
Dante lunged for his enemy’s belly, shredding the tough-as-steel hide with ferocious zeal. Simultaneously, his own hide was being viciously raked off in hunks. He didn’t feel a thing, the high surge of adrenalin protecting him as he rapidly tossed large pieces of flesh, seeking access to the beating heart.
With a mighty crunch of his jaws, Dante chomped through bone, and snagged the swiftly pumping heart. He burst it with several quick penetrations of his fangs, then spun toward the remaining bipedal who had a muzzle full of Dante’s fur.
White Fang joined the battle, and between the two of them not much remained of the beast wolf’s body.
“Time to depart!” Blade Runner hollered from his craft. “Six bogeys bearing down on little ole rabbit me. And someone needs to clean up this mess. Can’t let those scientist idjits have any of your genetic material. Right, wolf boys.”
Once he and White Fang ran inside and collapsed, Blade Runner lifted off, even as the ramp closed behind them. Dante yielded to the excruciating pain caused by his rapidly healing body. But, howls yeah, it had been one hellishly good fight.
Chapter Thirty-seven:
Dante Takes a Stand
By Pat Cunningham
Dante managed to squeeze in a couple of hours’ sleep before the first frantic reports flooded in. There were calls from Deuce and Hoover on his personal phone, and dozens of others on the public “hot line” in the bar. The trouble with being Talbot’s Peak’s unofficial alpha wolf was that people tended to treat him like their personal 911 unit.
This time, that panic might be justified.
He only needed to listen to a handful of calls to get the gist of the peril. Still aching from the wounds he’d sustained in the Philippines, he nevertheless rolled out his motorcycle and roared it down the road toward what sounded like a major disaster.
“Ewan,” he muttered under his breath, “what the hell did you do?”
One look at the hybrid mammoth monster lumbering up Route 15 and Dante shifted blame to where it belonged, onto Dr. Morloxian’s shoulders. He got his bike fairly close to the beast before it tried to stomp him, but that was near enough to see the mutant werewolf perched on its skull and controlling its progress. A second rider saw him and tried to jump. The werewolf caught her in one brawny arm and crushed her struggling body against him.
Dante’s mouth thinned. Hostage. The seriousness of the situation rose another notch.
He swung his bike around and sped back up the road, scanning for the best place to mount a counterattack. The most defensible spotâ��if a defense could even be devised against something like that mutant pachydermâ��was the bridge spanning the unfortunately-named Schitt Creek. “They were an early settler family! It’s a legitimate name!” the town historians had sworn when Mayor Gil questioned them. Like the Mayor, Dante had his doubts on that score. However, he didn’t doubt that if the mammoth made it past the bridge, all of Talbot’s Peak would be up Schitt Creek in more ways than one.
Movement overhead caught his eye. Two winged beings swooped down from on high and landed before him. One was one of the golden eagle twinsâ��Rafe, by his scent. The other caused Dante’s brows to climb. He’d heard of Pegasus shifters, but had never seen one until now.
The winged horse shifted into a slender, lovely young woman with a waist-length mane of red hair. She introduced herself as Syprelli. “I’ve been following the monster since it broke out of the earth down by the interstate,” she said. “It’s definitely headed for the town. The creature directing it has a hostage. A young woman. I tried to get close enough to help her, but â�¦ ” She waved her arms. “It’s difficult. My other form has no hands, and this form has no wings.”
“Same for me,” Rafe, now in his human form, added. “Not to mention that trunk is a bugger. I made a dive at the werewolf on its back and Dumbo nearly nailed me. If you’re going to bring it down, it’ll have to be from a distance.”
“I have access to weapons that could stop it,” Dante said, “but I’d rather not use them until we get the girl off its back. Provided we can.” His mouth tightened. “She’s the mate of a friend of mine.”
Syprelli nodded. “I saw them. Two wolves. They’re following the monster in a car.”
“Then Ewan has a plan.” If he didn’t, he would when he got there. Coyotes were more seat-of-the-pants types. As long as it worked, Dante would back it.
The sound of a motor on the road from the Peak side made all three of them turn. A dusty camo-painted pickup truck trundled down the road and rolled to a halt before them. Dante recognized the driver as Abram Turkle. His passenger Dante only knew by his bad reputation: the human hunter, Cochrane.
“Heard you had some trouble brewing,” Turkle said. “We’re here to help.”
Dante glanced at Cochrane and let the “we” slide by. Any port in a storm. “Do you know what we’re up against? Did you bring sufficient weapons?”
Turkle snorted at the obvious. “We’ve got two elephant guns and a grenade launcher,” Cochrane said. “We just need to figure out how to get close enough.”
“If that doesn’t do the trick, I can run home for the cannon,” Turkle said. “The aim ain’t accurate, though. We only fire it on the Fourth of July.”
“There’s a hostage on the mammoth’s back.”
Cochrane looked at him. “And there’s a mammoth headed for your town. Let’s stay focused on the big picture here.”
Dante bit back a growl. He truly detested the hunter, but the man seemed honestly willing to help. “We think the mammoth may be a genetically-mutated human. One of yours, in
fact. Does the name Atcheson mean anything to you?”
Cochrane’s expression darkened to downright murderous. “It means I get the first shot. Ass-kissing psycho, that’s what he is. I should have punched his clock a long time back. I hope you aren’t planning on taking him alive. From what we heard on the police scanner, that doesn’t sound like an option.”
“First we rescue the hostage. I’ve got a man working on that.” He hoped. Dante turned back and peered down the highway. The beast had not yet become visible from the bridge, but its hate-filled bellows could be heard for miles. “Come on, Ewan,” he murmured. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”
Chapter Thirty-eight:
We Are Not Alone… Skyflash…
By Savanna Kougar
Blade Runner, the Peak’s own extraterrestrial rabbit shifter, carefully maneuvered his small UFO craft, staying close to the top of the mountain. Upon arrival, mere moments ago, he’d activated the sharp spire of granite with a resonance frequency that kept his disc craft hidden. Enemies lurked everywhere in the unfriendly skies, especially the so-called ‘visiting’ otherworld races.
With Pachyderm-wolfzilla quaking the ground toward Talbot’s Peak, Dante had contacted briefly, both of them aware of a galaxy-sized problem unknown to most. So, despite his earthquaking tryst with his fox-fairy lover that had him sleeping like a newborn rabbit, Blade Runner hopped out of bed. In a matter of minutes, he’d booted up his trusty, pie-pan craft, and soared to the best mountaintop vantage point he’d discovered.
“Skyflash,” he identified the incoming ET ship. The quick explosion of light faded as fast as it filled the western quadrant of the Montana sky. “Not good,” Blade Runner muttered in his lingo. Immediately, he put on his rabbit earsâ��the tech from his world that would give him listening access to the crewâ��auto-interpreting their language.
****
“Brother Qiy, the genetically modified mammoth has a most impressive profile. The Earth scientist must be a rogue.”