Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8

by Heath Stallcup

  Jim sighed. “Then it’s my own fault. I’ll make arrangements to chain myself up during the moon.”

  Laura groaned. “Dad, that may not be enough. What if you end up biting Crystal or scratching her or…one of the boys? Or one of your grandkids?”

  Jim paused, his eyes glossing over as he considered the possibilities. He shook his head. “I’ll be careful. I won’t let that happen.”

  Laura tried to hold back her emotions but a sob escaped her throat as she tried to swallow it down. “Daddy, please, let me call in help.”

  He spun on her, his finger jabbing toward her, “I told you I can handle this, and I will.”

  She watched him shove the rest of his belongings into the plastic bag and brush past her as he left the room. She collapsed into the chair and shook as the door shut behind him.

  *****

  Mark signaled McKenzie to advance just as someone walked outside the office. He watched as the man raised his hands, quieting the crowd. “We only need one of them alive to trade for Miss Jennifer. Choose the ones to die.”

  “Screw that. Deploy flash bangs.” Each of the four operators tossed their grenades then turned their eyes away from the area, covering their ears. Once the reports of the grenades sounded, each man turned back to the task at hand.

  Mark and Chad advanced, dropping targets closest to them, carefully picking those with weapons first. Lamb and Jacobs worked from the overhead dropping the armed targets at the rear of the group. Spalding and Little John didn’t allow the diversion to be wasted. They had heard the clang of the M84’s metal canister hit the concrete floor and dropped to the ground, eyes clenched shut, hands covering their ears. Both men recovered and came to their feet looking for weapons.

  Donovan and Tracy weren’t so lucky. Deafened by the hundred and eighty decibel blast, both men were disoriented. Knowing what had occurred, neither man panicked, but instead dropped to the ground to avoid being caught in crossfire.

  Little John sprang forward and caught Martinez in a chokehold, pulling him to the ground and twisting his neck until the vertebrae gave an audible crunch and the man twitched once before going limp. He pulled the sidearm from Martinez’ holster and slid it to Spalding who began taking headshots of the men closest to him.

  Little John knew that they had to act quickly. These wolves would recover quicker than your average human from the effects of the stun grenade. He snatched a rifle from the hands of a dead wolf and took aim at the closest man standing near him. He opened fire and watched as the man stumbled and fell, the simunition splattering the side of his head with colored paint balls. John’s eyes widened as he remembered that the wolves weren’t using live ammunition.

  He quickly turned the rifle around and beat the man upside the head with the stock, shattering the plastic and splitting his skull open. He stood holding the weapon like a club as the other four operators leveled the small army around him. He glanced around the falling bodies and saw Donovan and Tracy slowly coming to their feet, shaking their heads as they fought off the effects of the M84.

  “Clear!” McKenzie yelled.

  “Clear!” Tufo called.

  “Clear!” Lamb echoed.

  “Clear!” Jacobs repeated.

  Spalding pulled Gus Tracy to his feet while Little John helped Donnie up. “You hit?”

  “Negative, but I can’t hear for shit.” Donnie stuffed a finger into his ear and wiggled it around.

  Mark stepped forward and kicked over a body. “I need an ID on a Brit named Bigby.” He pulled a photo from his pocket and handed it to McKenzie. “Chief Thompson thinks he’s Apollo’s shooter.”

  Spalding stiffened and began walking from body to body, flipping them over to see the faces. It didn’t take long to check them all. “He’s not here.”

  Lamb asked the obvious question. “What are the odds he wasn’t the shooter?”

  Spalding ground his teeth and shook his head. “I suppose it’s possible.” He pointed to Martinez. “I’m pretty sure he was in charge.”

  Mark sighed as he stared at the carnage. “Maybe we should have left one of them alive.” He caught Spalding’s glare. “You know…for questioning.”

  “They can’t lie to us if they’re dead.”

  *****

  Bigby sat just outside the perimeter of the facility and lay low in the brush. He listened to the stun grenades then the whispered coughs of the rifles as the Yanks cleaned house. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook with rage as he imagined all of the soldiers being decimated. “Fuckin’ Yanks.”

  He snatched his duffle from the ground and turned, pushing through the brush and making his way out and away from the carnage.

  As he travelled on foot he debated the odds of Simmons sending him more men to do the deed. He still had the photos and the plans that his inside man had sent. He fought with himself as he considered the possibility of raising his own army.

  Bigby froze mid-step and stared back toward the warehouse. “Who needs an army?” he chuckled to himself as he turned back and continued on his path.

  An army was just more people to have to watch over. More people to have to feed. More people to have screw things up. But one man? One man could slip in and recon the squads. One man could find out for sure if they had really moved. If they did, so be it. Plan from there. If they didn’t…he could stick to his original idea. Poison gas in the air inlet. And with nobody from camp Simmons to stop him, he could act regardless of where the little prat was. What did he care about the old man’s little girl? He couldn’t give two shits about her, especially if she mated with the leader of the squads. Piss on her. She’s as much a traitor as her mate.

  Bigby chuckled to himself again as he began making his own plans. He didn’t need an army to do this. He only needed to be careful. And he still had some of Sheridan’s guns stuffed away in case of emergency. He could do this on his own. He didn’t need anybody else to tell him it was okay. He was his own man. He was a major now…and majors didn’t take orders from nobody.

  *****

  Kalen skipped the meal and went for the showers first. The others tried to convince him to come and eat with them, but he was simply too tired. And after his altercation with Brooke…and the talk with Loren, he wanted to wash away the grit and sleep away the failure.

  He slipped off his robe and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. Stepping under the steaming stream, his mind drifted back to Loren’s visit. She wanted to know why he had covered the viewing stone. He tried to claim that he hadn’t realized he had…but it was obvious. The rag he had tied to intentionally blind her was still in place. He explained that he felt like he was lying to everyone by giving her the ability to see their every action, but she didn’t agree. How could she help and direct their actions if she couldn’t see? She had cut the cloth from his wrist and ordered him not to replace it.

  His mind drifted further back to Brooke. Raven. She was so insistent that they couldn’t pursue their feelings and it made his chest hurt. He didn’t understand why. He understood that they were different, but were they really so different? He sighed heavily as he thought of her. The biggest part of him ached for her and he couldn’t explain why. She made him feel things that he had never felt before.

  Kalen slowly turned and leaned against the tile wall, the water beating against his pale skin, reddening it. He pushed off the wall and reached for the soap. His hand closed on nothing. He opened his eyes and saw that the soap wasn’t where he thought he had placed it. He hung his head and shook it slowly. He was so tired and distracted that he was losing his mind.

  He felt long slender hands wrap around his middle and begin to rub a bar of soap against his chest. He immediately stiffened and his eyes shot wide. He spun and faced Brooke standing behind him; her dark hair soaked by the hot water and her dark eyes staring upward, her arms still wrapped around him.

  Kalen swallowed hard as he stared at her wet, nude form. She slowly pulled her arms from around him and began to lather his
chest. “Why are you here?” He tried to control his voice, but it cracked as he spoke.

  “Don’t you want me here? With you?” Her face looked so innocent as she spoke but he could see the mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

  He swallowed hard and nodded slightly. “Yes. Now and forever.”

  She smiled and pulled closer, her lips barely brushing his as she leaned to his ear. “Forever.”

  He shivered even with the steaming water beating his bare skin and he felt his body reacting to her nearness. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, feeling her body pressed to his own. Her skin felt cold next to his, but it only served to excite him that much more. He lifted her chin and he kissed her, his tongue probing her mouth and he felt her fangs extend as her own excitement grew.

  His hands slid down her wet back and cupped her bottom, squeezing each cheek in his strong hands and lifting her from the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her press her breasts to him as she deepened their kiss.

  She released one hand and slipped it between them to grab his excitement and guide him. He could feel her trying to lower herself in his grip so he loosened his hold on her, lowering her gently onto him.

  He sucked in a stuttered breath as he lowered her further still, her velvety wetness gripping him tight. His arms clenched and his hands squeezed her bottom tighter as he raised her gently then lowered her again. She thrust against him harder and he quickened the pace, driving himself more forcefully with each thrust.

  Without breaking their kiss, she pierced his lip and sucked at his elven blood, tightening her grip around his neck and bucking against him wildly. Kalen spun and planted her to the tile wall, his legs tense and his arms shaking as he continued to raise her and lower her, meeting her thrust for thrust.

  She sucked at his tongue, her teeth scraping his flesh until she threw her head back and screamed, “Forever!”

  Kalen leaned forward and bit her neck just as his body released…but she wasn’t there.

  He staggered and fell against the tile wall, spinning and looking around the shower. Where had she gone? Where had she…was she… had it all been a dream? He looked to where he had placed the soap and it was still in the tray. He placed one hand against the tile wall and lowered his head, tears threatening to come. He reached up blindly and shut the water off.

  Without drying, he wrapped himself in his robe and half staggered to the door. He stepped into the hall and crossed to his room. He opened the door just as the door to the other shower opened and Brooke staggered out, her hair wet and her eyes glazed. She leaned against the wall and ran a finger lazily across her lips. She glanced down the hall drunkenly and their eyes met. Her face paled and her eyes widened suddenly. He couldn’t be sure, but he could almost swear that she blushed before she darted back into the shower.

  Kalen stepped toward the shower but caught himself. If she experienced the same thing he did, she definitely wouldn’t want to ‘talk about it’. He turned slowly and pushed open the door to his room. He pushed the door shut and ran the towel over his head quickly. He pulled it away and noticed…blood?

  Stepping to the mirror, he noted a smear of blood near his mouth. Kalen opened his mouth and inspected the area. A perfect piercing of his lower lip bled out onto his chin. He dabbed at it and noticed it wasn’t sore. He touched it with his tongue and flashes of memory shot through his mind.

  He sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. “We are destined to be, Brooke.”

  4

  Mitchell sagged in the command chair, playing with the controls to the screens, his eyes absently scanning the different views. Static suddenly filled the air from the overhead speakers and Delta One’s voice boomed, “OPCOM, Delta Actual. All clear. Jammer located and FUBAR’d. Standing by for cleanup crews.”

  Colonel Mitchell sat up and keyed the coms. “Casualties?”

  “Negative, sir.”

  Mitchell released the breath he had been holding and sagged in the chair again. He motioned to the logistics tech, “Notify the cleanup crews. Get ‘em onsite ASAP.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Mitchell keyed his coms again, “By chance is Major Tufo with you?”

  “That’s affirmative, sir.”

  “Put him on the line.” Mitchell spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Go for me.” Mark’s voice sounded a bit too flippant.

  “Major, switch to a private channel.” Mitchell switched the coms and waited for the green light. When Mark came back on he forced himself not to light into him right away. “Care to tell me why you entered a communications dead zone?”

  “Well…uh, they sort of had a gun to Spanky and Little John’s heads and were counting down. It was a ‘shit or get off the pot’ situation.”

  Mitchell dragged a hand over his face and pinched the brow of his nose while mentally counting to calm his blood pressure. He keyed the coms again, “Tell me you didn’t have to engage.”

  “Don’t make me lie to you, Matt. But you can rest easy, it was a by-the-book hostage situation. Two snipers high, to shooters low. Bad guys are all feasting in Valhalla.”

  “Oh, for the love of…” Mitchell bit off the epithet he was about to let loose. “You and I are going to have a long talk when you return.”

  “Copy that.” Mark pulled out his earpiece and turned off his radio.

  Mitchell noted the coms go dead and sighed. He wasn’t sure if his best friend was going to be problematic or if he just needed one last hurrah before riding the desk again. He sincerely prayed that this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

  *****

  Allister walked about the third level and eyed the empty space that Evan offered. “This should be adequate.” He turned and nodded to the vampire academic who escorted him through the maze to find the place.

  “There is a freight elevator that you and the larger members of the team should be able to use. It goes from here to topside. No other stops, otherwise we could have brought it down.” Evan lifted the gate and Allister poked his head inside.

  “This will hold our combined weight?”

  “It should. It’s a commercial freight elevator.” He pulled the door shut and turned back to the room. “We can have furnishings brought down here shortly. A conference table and chairs for those who can use them. Computers, couches, whatever you like.”

  Allister shook his head. “I defer to your expertise. I have not had to deal with human desires in a very long time.” He marched past the vampire and stared at the narrow doorways leading out to the hallway and stairs.

  “I will see to their needs then.” Evan watched the griffin carefully. “Are there any special needs that you will require?”

  Allister shook his head. “I ate a deer before I came here. I will be good for at least a few more weeks.”

  Evan swallowed hard and nodded. “Very well, I have a side project that I must address and then I will make arrangements to get furnishings provided. After that, you and I can start with your lessons.”

  Allister turned to him and nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. I look forward to it.”

  Evan waited for him to turn and follow him, but Allister simply sat in a corner and watched him. “Will you be staying here then?”

  “Until your return.”

  Evan gave a slight bow and exited. His mind instantly switched to Laura’s problem and he began trying to calculate the effects that an overdose of the serum would have. Would it do any good to follow up with the secondary serum? Even if she gave larger doses? His mind couldn’t wrap around the possibility as he hurried to his lab. He simply couldn’t find an analogy worthy of the situation.

  At 15CCs per dose, the subjects would be genetically altered to the point of being the equivalent to a natural born wolf. At 250CCs… he had no idea what a dose like that would do to a human body. Especially one battling a life-threatening illness.

  Evan pushed the smaller items from his desk and pulled his computer keyboard closer. He quick
ly filled out the requisition form for the furniture and hardware he thought Jack’s team might need, then hit send. He switched to a modeling program that he hadn’t used in nearly a decade. Shortly after they revamped the augmentation program he had developed the program to predict the outcomes of the new serum and its results were nearly spot on. It was what gave him the 15CC dosage levels that proved reliable in the test subjects.

  He started with new subject parameters, inputting a sick human, near death, cancer-ridden. He then allowed for a single dose of 250CC and watched the results calculate. His eyes widened as he saw the predictors range from rapid, near manic-depressive mood swings to uncontrollable shifts without triggers to possibly even having the ability to control other animals with nothing more than their mind. The worst case scenario was a total takeover by the wolf.

  “No, this won’t do.” He began changing the serum parameters. With a secondary dose of the primary, it only became worse. No matter the dosage levels, the subject would eventually lose their mind and shift into a wolf, never to regain their humanity.

  Evan fought back the panic rising within and switched to the secondary serum. He adjusted the different dosage levels and read the projected results. He felt his hands shaking as he read the projections. Without a full dose of the secondary, within twenty-four hours of the primary, the subject would be lost to the wolf. If she could get a full dose of the secondary serum into him in time…

  He snatched up the phone and dialed Laura. He tapped his nails against the stainless steel countertop as he listened to the phone ring. When she answered, he nearly shouted into the phone, “Tell me you still have the secondary serum!”

  “Uh…yeah. I still have it. Evan, what’s wrong?” Her voice switched to one of concern from the panic in his tone.