by Cheree Alsop
The rage broke, washing from Alex in a wave. He blinked quickly. “You won’t lose me. I’m strong enough to beat him.” He swallowed. “I’ve got to do this, Jaze. You heard what he said. I’m the only one who can stop him. If I can give those humans a chance to survive this, I’ve got to go.” His eyes held the dean’s. “You would do the same thing.”
Jaze was quiet for a moment before he said, “You won’t be going alone.”
On impulse, Alex threw his arms around the dean, giving him a tight hug. After his dad died, Jaze was the one who filled that place in his life, guiding him and helping him get past the times when he felt the world was collapsing in around him. Knowing Jaze cared so much filled him with strength.
“You’ve been the best father a son could ask for.”
“I had no idea what I was doing,” Jaze admitted. “I was barely old enough to go to college, let alone raise orphans.”
Cassie came up behind Jaze and gave him another hug. “You did great.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Please take care of Alex.”
“I will,” Jaze promised.
Chapter Twenty
“We have a problem,” Brock said over the jet’s intercom.
“What is it?” Alex asked. He glanced at Jaze.
“There are cops ringing the hospital. They’re calling for Alex’s arrest.”
“What if we land on the roof in a helicopter?” Jaze asked.
“No go,” Brock replied. “The drone shows men with guns up there. This one’s going to be tricky.”
Alex was puzzling it out when Jaze’s phone rang.
“It’s for you,” he told Alex. “Trent put the call through.”
When Alex answered, the crying on the other end of the line pierced his heart. “Mrs. Summers?” he asked.
“Yes, Alex,” she replied, her voice shaky. “You’ve got to do something.”
“What’s going on?”
“Cherish is in the hospital. She was doing volunteer hours for her major when Drogan took over.”
“I’ll get her out,” Alex promised. His thoughts raced. “I might need your help.”
“Anything,” Mrs. Summers said.
Twenty minutes later found them in Cherish’s apartment. Jaze watched from the couch as Alex addressed Lizzie Masters with Greyton News’ evening news team.
“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Mrs. Summers asked.
“It’s the only thing I can think of. If the cops will let me in, I can help Cherish and the others. If they arrest me on sight, nobody’s getting out of that hospital alive.”
Lizzie nodded. “Let’s do this.” She looked at Alex. “This is airing live, so anything you say will be raw and unedited. Make it count.”
At her motion, the light on the camera turned on.
“I am Lizzie Masters and I’m here with Greyton’s most wanted individual, the Demon of Greyton, Alex Davies.” She looked at him. “Alex, as you know, citizens at Greyton City Hospital are currently being held in a hostage situation by Drogan Carso, the Extremist wanted for murder of both werewolves and humans during the werewolf genocide. I understand that you are the one responsible for taking his father down.”
Alex hadn’t expected Lizzie to take the questioning in that direction. He steeled himself and nodded. “I am.”
When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else on the matter, Lizzie smiled. “Well, you did the world a service on that one. Now his son, Drogan, is calling for you to give yourself up in trade for the citizens he is holding hostage at the hospital.”
“I’ll do it gladly,” Alex told her. “Drogan is cruel and without mercy. He’ll kill people without a second thought. The sooner I can get in there, the better for all involved.”
“Which is why we’re here,” Lizzie continued, looking at the camera. “The hardworking police officers of Greyton are also calling for Alex’s arrest. His fear is that if they arrest him, Drogan will continue to kill those within the hospital. Alex has a solution he hopes will work with all parties. Alex?”
Alex turned his gaze to the camera. “Being what I am is illegal. I’m a werewolf, so just being born was a death sentence. But I have proven this last month in Greyton that werewolves don’t have to be the enemy. We lived in peace once before, and we can do so again.
“I am the Greyton City vigilante. I care about humans, and I would say that sets me apart from other werewolves, but it doesn’t. Where I come from, humans and werewolves co-exist. It used to happen in this nation before the genocide, and it happens even now. Your best friend, your neighbor,” he smiled, “Or your tattoo artist might be a werewolf and you don’t know it because they’ve chosen to live in peace. Werewolves want normal lives without having to hide what we are.”
He let out a breath. “I didn’t start this war with the Extremists, but Drogan is threatening people in this city, a city I care about very much. I have bled to protect these streets. All I’m asking for is a chance to step up and defend you one more time. I’m seventeen years old and I am willing to trade my life to free your loved ones. Drogan is crazy enough to kill every person in that hospital if you don’t let me through.
He kept his voice steady, his gaze on the camera. “Please give me a chance. I’ll be there in ten minutes. You can arrest me on the spot, or you can let me go into the hospital where I can fight to make a difference. Officers of Greyton, it’s in your hands.”
At Lizzie’s nod, the red light turned off.
“That’s a wrap,” the camera man said.
“Think that will work?” Mrs. Summers asked.
Lizzie lifted her skinny shoulders in a shrug. “I guess we’ll know in ten minutes.” She touched Alex’s arm. “You’re very brave.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Thanks to you, my niece is home safe.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Alex told her.
She hesitated a moment, then caught him up in a hug. “Thank goodness for werewolves,” she said.
She stepped back and smoothed the front of her black dress, straightening the gold belt around her waist. Her cellphone rang.
“The station is getting swamped with calls,” she told them.
“Is that a good thing?” Alex asked.
“My station is forwarding them on to the police station. There are a lot of citizens hoping to see their loved ones safe. Hopefully that will give us the edge we need.”
“Good,” Jaze said, rising from the couch.
He walked with Alex over to the window. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly so the humans didn’t overhear.
“Without a doubt.”
“Drogan will be out for blood,” the dean warned him.
“A family member wanting to kill me? That’s nothing new.” Alex forced a smile. “Besides, we have some business to catch up on.”
Jaze nodded. “Fine, but remember, we’ll be following the tracking chip Trent put in your sleeve.”
“Got it.”
“We’re going to break through the back doors and fight our way up. You won’t be alone with Drogan for long.”
Alex gave a true smile this time. “I got it, Jaze. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Alex knew the truth that lay behind the dean’s fears. “I’ll try to come back.”
“We won’t be far behind you.”
“I appreciate it,” Alex told him.
He walked to the door. Jaze, the camera crew, Lizzie Masters, and Mrs. Summers followed a short distance behind.
Alex walked two blocks and turned the corner. Police cars lined the road, barring the way for traffic to reach the hospital. People thronged the streets, anxious to find out what was happening inside the hospital. There were more people than Alex had ever seen on the road and sidewalks. It was mass chaos as the humans tried to get to their loved ones trapped inside.
The bristly forms of heavily armed officers made an intimidating wall between Alex and his destination. Alex glanced back at Jaze. The dean stood at the
corner with the humans, his expression calm. Alex took strength from the dean’s trust. He filled his chest, then let the air out slowly. His shoes crunched on the asphalt as he made his way along the road.
“It’s the werewolf,” someone called.
“It’s Alex!” others shouted.
The crowd fell to the sides, making a path for Alex.
The officers who had been watching the hospital turned their attention to the lone teenager walking down the middle of the road toward them.
His heart slowed as a hundred guns aimed at him.
“Let him through,” a voice called.
“Let the Demon through,” another yelled. Others took up the cry. Soon, hundreds of voices were chanting the same thing. Alex stood between the throng of humans and the rows of police officers. The officers looked uncertain as to what they should do. Alex didn’t know if he was about to be shot or arrested.
“Hold your fire.”
Alex recognized Officer Dune’s voice.
“Don’t hold your fire,” another voice demanded. “Take him down.”
“He’s unarmed,” Officer Dune pointed out.
“He’s a suspect. Get on the ground,” the chief replied.
Alex put all his attention on placing one foot in front of the other. When he reached the first row of officers, they fell back, clearing his path.
“This is ridiculous,” the chief exclaimed. “Tank, bring him down.”
The sound of a huge dog’s paws eating up the ground thundered behind Alex. Alex waited until the last possible moment. He turned and let the wolf show through his eyes for a split second. The huge Mastiff-Rottweiler mix pulled up short. His angry growl dropped to a confused whine. At Alex’s motion, the dog sat.
“That’s just great,” the chief muttered.
“We need to let him go,” Officer Dune said. “It’s for the good of the city.”
“You want the city’s fate resting in the hands of this werewolf?”
Officer Dune’s voice was persuading when he said, “If Alex is willing to trade his life for the hostages, why stand in the way? Drogan Carso releases the hostages and Alex’s fate is up to himself. If he makes it out, then I’ll arrest him myself.”
The chief was quiet for a moment, then said, “Fine.”
The rest of the police officers fell back from Alex, clearing his path to the hospital. Cheers rose from the waiting crowd.
“Good luck,” an officer said.
Alex realized it was Officer Smith.
“How’s your leg?”
“Getting better,” the officer replied. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
Alex felt the attention of the entire city as he crossed the final stretch between the last officers and the steps to the hospital. Men with guns stood at the doors ready to shoot down anyone who followed him.
“Let me in,” Alex said, his voice firm.
The man at the door pushed it open. Alex stepped inside. When the door shut, he could hear the hysteria that filled the hospital. Fear warred with the scent of antiseptics and blood as armed men with guns walked the halls. Alex glanced into the rooms they passed. Patients with worried expressions huddled on their beds. It was obvious Drogan hadn’t taken the hospital without demonstrations of force. Alex wondered how many had died to create the sense of control the Extremists held.
They entered an elevator and one of his armed escorts pushed the button for the fourth floor. As the elevator rose, Alex fought back the urge to take down both men. Killing Drogan’s guards before finding out the Extremist’s plan wouldn’t help anyone. The impartial side of him noted that the thought of killing was coming a bit too easily. He shoved the notion to the back of his mind with the conclusion that it wouldn’t help anyone if he developed a soft heart now.
The doors slid open.
“Brother,” Drogan said from the middle of the room.
Alex stepped cautiously out of the elevator into what appeared to be the hospital’s cafeteria. The Greyton City news team stood near the wall and several humans huddled beneath one wide window. Alex realized with a start that one of them was Cherish.
“Alex!” she said, her voice tight with fright.
Drogan looked from Cherish to Alex. “You know each other.”
Alex shook his head quickly, but it was too late.
“Let’s get things rolling,” Drogan continued with a humorless smile. “Jenkins, tell the boys to light it up.”
“Light what up?” Alex asked.
“The hospital,” Drogan said, his tone light. “I’ve no doubt that Jaze’s nosy pack refused to let you come here alone, so I figured I would give them something to occupy their time.”
“You’re going to burn down the hospital?” Alex replied. “You can’t do that!”
Drogan smiled. “Watch me.”
“Do it,” Jenkins, a huge bald man with a thick ring through one ear, said into his cellphone.
An explosion sounded below followed by screams.
Alex turned back to the elevator, intent on helping.
“You don’t have time to play the hero,” Drogan said, his voice deadly serious. “At least down there.”
Alex turned around slowly. “What do you mean?”
Drogan tipped his head. At the motion, Jenkins stalked to the group of humans huddled below the window. He grabbed a little girl from her mother’s arms. The girl was about five years old; she cried and struggled to get away from the man. Her mother tried to get her back, but another of Drogan’s men shoved her down.
“Fitting, isn’t it?” Drogan asked, his voice calm. “I killed your parents,” he winked. “Or at least who you thought were your parents, and you killed my father. Some would call it karma, others fate, and some just a mere coincidence.” He took a strand of the girl’s blonde hair between his fingers. “Do you know what I call it, Alex?”
Alex watched him silently, afraid that anything he said would cost the girl her life.
Drogan smirked as if he guessed Alex’s thoughts. His eyes narrowed. “I call it payback. You’ve had yours, now it’s my turn.” He looked at the cameraman. “Are you getting this?”
“Y-yes,” the cameraman replied, his free hand shaking as he aimed the camera at the Extremist leader.
“Good,” Drogan said. He shot the window above the humans’ heads. Several screamed as glass rained down on them. “My father was ambitious. One of his plans to show the animalistic nature of werewolves was the have the great Jaze Carso,” he said the name with a sneer, “Kill werewolves on national television, but Jaze refused, even at the cost of his mother’s life. Now, we’re giving you the same choice.”
Alex’s stomach twisted. “What choice?”
Drogan flicked the little girl’s hair out of his fingers. “We’re going to throw this child out the window.”
The girl’s mother began to cry. She tried to reach her daughter, but a guard pressed a gun to her head. She collapsed sobbing to the floor.
“Can you smell their fear, Alex?” Drogan asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation. He pointed a gun at Cherish’s head. “You have two choices. You know this girl. You can either stay here and I won’t kill...” His eyes narrowed and he looked at Cherish. “Your name?”
She refused to give it to him. At her silence, Drogan slapped her hard across the mouth. “Your name?” he repeated in the same deadly calm tone.
“Cherish,” she replied, tears in her eyes and a bright red mark growing on her cheek.
Drogan continued as if he hadn’t just assaulted her. “You can stay here and I won’t kill Cherish, or you can jump out the window in an attempt to save the child, in which case I might just shoot your friend. It’s really a lose-lose for someone so prone to heroics as you have shown to be.” He sighed. “I would recommend staying here to save the one you really can.”
“No,” Alex protested. “Don’t do it.” He inched toward the window, knowing Drogan wouldn’t listen to him no matter what he
said.
“Jenkins,” Drogan said.
The man threw the little girl out the window as easily as if he was tossing out a ball. Alex jumped out without hesitation.
Chapter Twenty-one
Alex grabbed the little girl and pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms. She screamed, her little voice whisked away by the air rushing past them. The ground sped toward the pair. Alex jerked his head back, forcing his body to follow so he could be feet first. He hit the ground a second later with a jarring thud.
“Alex!”
Hands touched his arms. Alex willed his legs to hold. He blinked to chase away the daze from the abrupt landing and recognized Officer Dune. The officer slipped his hands beneath Alex’s and took the little girl from him.
“What is going on?” Officer Dune demanded.
“Drogan’s a madman,” Alex replied. He turned to go back inside the hospital.
“Don’t go back in there,” Officer Dune said. “The whole place is on fire. We’ve taken out the men we can in order to rescue patients. The hospital is going to collapse.”
“I’ve got to go,” Alex replied. His eyes burned. “Drogan may have just shot one of my close friends.”
He ducked back through the hospital doors.
Flames were everywhere. A fireman rushed past with a boy in his arms. Several others were busy helping patients out the back door where the flames had less of a hold. Alex saw Jaze helping two officers pushing wheelchairs.
It was hard to run in the opposite direction. His instincts screamed for him to join Jaze in getting patients out of the hospital. Jaze was his pack mate, his father figure. To leave the Alpha and the rest of the pack felt completely against everything he had been raised to do.
But Cherish, if she was still alive, and other helpless humans were on the fourth floor with Drogan who was acting insane. Alex was the only one they would let back up. He had saved the child. Maybe he could do something else to rescue the others.
Alex took the stairs four at a time. The elevators were down, and he had to hold to the walls several times to avoid hindering the descent of patients, officers, doctors, and nurses. Firefighters hosed down the second floor from the street, but it was clear that Drogan had set the fire to do the most devastation possible. Officer Dune was right. The building would collapse.