Another howl, this time much closer, pierced the mountain night.
Nope, not much longer now. Hopefully Frank and the guys would have enough sense to let me finish this my way. The last thing I needed was one of them butting their nose in like Frank had earlier in the day, riling things up even further. I didn’t want a feud. I’d make a horrible Hatfield, and an even worse McCoy.
“What was that?” Sheila asked, glancing back towards the rowdy group of bikers she’d just escaped. “A coyote?”
“No,” I said flatly. “A wolf. Now get back there.”
She gave me a confused but scared look and just headed inside.
As she turned into the hallway, I shifted my focus back to the crowd outside.
“Ready for this, Murdoch?” Wyatt yelled. “Ready to get yo ass whooped all the way to kingdom come and back?”
I set my SPAS-12 aside, leaning it up against the wall next to the rifle. Stolidly, I walked out onto the porch, my heavy boots thudding with each step like the drums of war. I stepped onto the gravel and walked to Wyatt, who stood out and away from his group of men. “So you want a fair fight? Another one?” I asked.
He twisted his head to the side and spat a big wad. “Want you to know your place, that’s what I want.” Around him, his men cheered and jeered. I could almost guarantee that a more hateful crowd of ugly men hadn’t been assembled this close to Enchanted Rock since the days of the prospectors.
I rolled my shoulders, loosening them up, and raised my fists in front of my face. “Better men than you tried to teach me that, Wyatt. But, come on, let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Forty-three - Jessica
I pulled Sheila into my arms as soon as she came through the door. She broke down and sobbed into my shoulder as the shock wore off. I cradled her to me and held her face against as I stroked her hair. Behind us, Lacy had already gotten the screen off the rear window.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re safe now, Sheila. We’re going to get you out of here, take you into the woods with us.”
“B-b-b-but I made a mess of everything,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms tightly around me. “That guy’s sacrificing himself for me. They’re going to kill him, Jess! It’s all my fault!”
I shushed her. “He’s going to be fine,” I said. “He’s going to fight them, and that’ll be it.”
“No,” Sheila said as she pulled back and looked into my bleary eyes with her own bloodshot ones, “you don’t understand. They’re going to kill him no matter who wins.” She wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “And it’s all my fault!”
“Ladies,” Lacy said, ignoring Sheila’s tears, “we need to go. Richard said we needed to go as soon as she got in here.”
I looked back at Lacy. “She says they’re going to kill him no matter what! Don’t you care?”
Lacy got a weird look on her face, like she was trying to force herself to care.
That little bitch! “You don’t care?” I spat. “Do you? He’s your friend for fuck’s sake!”
She shook her head, saying, “No, it’s not like that. I told you, Richard’s going to be fine!”
“Well I’m not fucking going anywhere!” I yelled. “Not till I know Richard is safe!”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine!” she yelled back, clearly tired of the whole argument. “Can we just go out the back, at least? If we just suddenly come out the front, someone might start shooting. And, believe me, we won’t be fine if that happens.”
I nodded once. “Let’s go. Maybe we can come up with a way to…I don’t know!”
Lacy went out the window first, since she was the only one of us armed. She hit the ground and promptly plopped onto her butt in the short, yellowed grass, but scrambled back to her feet as she dusted her rump clean. She was back outside the window in no time, arms outstretched to catch Sheila, who was next. I came after, my arms flailing a little as I landed on the ground. Both women caught me securely.
“Still think we should listen to Richard,” Lacy mumbled as I went to grab from the stump the axe that Richard had been using earlier to chop wood.
“Well,” I snarled as I yanked the blade from the stump, surprising even myself, “I wish that had been your attitude earlier.” I turned back to her, axe in hand.
Lacy’s face was barely lit by the stars and the moon, but even in that poor light I could see the hurt I’d just caused her. Even Sheila looked horrified by what I’d said.
I immediately felt like I’d just drop-kicked a kitten down a mountain. “Lacy, I’m sorry,” I apologized, reaching out and grabbing her by the shoulder. “You didn’t know. You were just trying to help.”
Frowning in the moonlight, she touched my hand. “It’s okay. I know I fucked up. Big time. But if you’re really intent on saving Richard, we’d better get to it. Even though he doesn’t need our help.”
“He needs it,” I promised as we headed up the edge of the cabin’s rear wall and peered around the side. “Believe me.”
The dimly lit side of the cabin was clear of any bikers. Together, the three of us crept forward with me in the lead, Lacy behind me with her pistol drawn, and Sheila in the rear. We crept forward through the longer, knee-length yellowing grass, the pine trees with their long, needled branches reaching out to us from the forest like the bogeyman looking for his next victim.
Then, I heard the low howl of a wolf, closer than the calls I’d heard earlier. No, it had to have been a coyote. Wolves hadn’t been in the high country in decades. They’d wanted to reintroduce them, but hadn’t yet. I pushed the thought from my mind, though. There were more important things to worry about than whether or not packs had returned to Colorado.
Up ahead, the bikers began to cheer. I scrambled ahead, with Lacy grabbing and tugging at my shirt to hold me back, as sudden worry for Richard gripped me. I shrugged off the younger girl’s insistent hand, ran forward to the edge of the building, and poked my head around the corner.
Richard and Wyatt Axelrod, stripped to their bare chests, stood in a loose circle of bikers. Wyatt, with his big shoulders, flabby stomach, and prison tattoos, and Richard with his chiseled physique, rippling muscles, and defined abs and back, were ready to fight. Both men were unarmed.
“This how you want it to be, then?” Richard asked from the middle of the circle. “Bare-fisted, boxing it out like men?”
“Like men,” Wyatt sneered. “Just like in the good old days.”
“In my experience, even the old days were pretty shitty. I got your word the women go free, Wyatt? You leave here after?”
“My word, Murdoch,” Wyatt replied, turning his head and spitting into the grass without taking his eyes off of Richard.
“Good,” Richard said, bouncing up and down a little on the balls of his feet. “Let’s do this.”
I gasped as they began to circle each other. There was no way anything good could come out of this, and I knew it. How was I supposed to save Richard from a group of men like that? With just an axe in hand, and Lacy with her pistol? If what Sheila said was true, Richard would be dead no matter how this fight ended.
My shoulders slumped, and the axe suddenly felt very heavy and pointless in my hands. Lacy was right. There was nothing we could do.
We were powerless.
I was powerless.
Chapter Forty-four – Richard
I had no illusions about how this would end if I won.
Wyatt had said he’d let us go if I fought him, no matter what the outcome was, but I, the bikers, Sheila, Jessica, Lacy—we all knew that was pure USDA grade A bullshit. They had no intention of letting me walk if I beat Wyatt in a fair fight. This was just so he could try and regain some honor in front of his men. But, if I lost, maybe I’d have a chance. Maybe this wouldn’t devolve into the kind of bloodshed I was worried about. I really didn’t want a dozen men on my conscience, or even a chance at some kind of feud between myself and the Skull and Bones.
I’d had enough killing durin
g the war.
What I needed to do, though, was stall for time so the women could get away in the woods, in case I either accidentally won or he didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.
Wyatt and I circled each other, naked from the waist up, our eyes locked on one another for battle. “Just wanna be clear,” I called loudly enough that I was sure my pack would hear me where they crouched low and motionless on the fringes of the clearing, “if I win, you leave. You win, you still leave. You just want a fight, right? That’s all this is about.”
“That’s all,” Wyatt replied. “Just here to see who the better man really is, is all.”
“Then let’s do this,” I said, bringing my fists up in front of my face.
I gave Wyatt a clear opening in the hopes he’d swing first, and he delivered with a slow and clumsy opening right hook.
I fought my natural inclination to dodge or block it, and made sure he hit me right on the chin, even angling my face to fix his aim. Pain blossomed through my face, sending me staggering back. He might have been slow and inaccurate, but his fists still hit like a Mac truck, knocking the sense right out of my head and sending me into one of the Bonesmen surrounding us.
The bikers all cheered for their president, their rowdy voices making them sound like there were ten times their actual numbers. “Don’t quit now!” the biker yelled as he flung me back into the circle.
I stumbled forward, the coppery, metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as I exaggerated how much I was feeling the punch. I needed to make this look good, after all. He’d know if I made the fight too easy on him. I swung wildly, a haymaker that was clumsy and off balance.
He danced right underneath it and jabbed me twice in the stomach as he came around.
The wind was knocked right out of me, and I almost took a knee. Instead, I tightened my arms around my torso and blocked as he came on again like a devil, battering me with almost half a dozen more hits.
He danced back, lighter on his feet than I remembered, thumbing his nose at me. He came back at me with a right jab.
I easily knocked it aside with my forearm, and bullied my way back in. I delivered a set of jabs to his chest and gut, knocking the wind from him again. “See how that feels,” I yelled, backing away from him as he stumbled back into the arms of his buddies, a set of boos and murmurs coming from the assembled men.
The bikers around him helped him back up and righted him. Wyatt grinned wide, showing me his row of rotten teeth. “You in the game now?” he crowed. “Huh? You taking this seriously yet?”
I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. I held it back, just like I was holding back the urge to just shift and tear his throat out for even thinking to threaten my mate and Lacy. Instead, I flew into him, releasing my frustration in two quick jabs to his face.
He partially blocked both, but my fists still slipped through. His head snapped back with each blow, his eyes wide with shock as I bloodied his nose like earlier in the day, sending streams of crimson and gore down his face onto his chest. Wyatt stumbled back into the men, and they roared their disapproval as he shook his head and clamored back into his stance.
“Think you’re hot shit?” he asked in a nasally voice, circling around me. His nose was broken, I could tell, but it apparently wasn’t slowing him down this time around. “Think you’re real fucking hot shit, don’t you?”
“Shut up and fight,” I said.
He growled deep in his chest, a guttural noise like an animal, and came at me again, his fists a flurry. I blocked a couple of them, but let the rest slip through, his bare knuckles connecting with my nose and cheek bone, splitting my skin and snapping my head back.
My vision went dark for a second, punctuated only by white fireworks of surprise and pain as I stumbled back onto my ass. I tried to get back up, to buy the girls more time, but my body was weary. I could feel the toll the fight was taking on me, on my endurance, and I had to struggle to my feet. Who knew being a punching back was so exhausting?
“Had enough?” Wyatt asked in that same nasal tone.
I shook my head, trying to get my senses focused again.“Not yet,” I replied. “Gimme me a couple more shots.” I took a step towards him.
He laughed as I stumbled, my ankle twisting a little in the gravel of the drive. He slashed me with a left hook and followed it up with a right jab.
My headed rocketed back again, his bloodied knuckles leaving a trail over my bruised and broken skin. I grunted as his jab sent me back into the crowd again, my arms pinwheeling a little.
“How about now?” Wyatt asked, still fresh as a daisy.
I licked my split lip, tasting more blood. I wiped the back of a balled fist across the blood, smearing it over my chin and mouth. “One more,” I said as I lunged forward, jabbing him with a surprise left that I pulled at the last moment.
“Getting weak there, Murdoch,” he said as he recovered. Then, surprisingly, he lunged at me again, his fists flying at me faster than I thought he could muster.
I went to block them, intentionally being clumsy and weak, and let most of his punches through. It was time to end this, to let Wyatt have his way, no matter how much I hated having to give him even a fake victory. My body was like a mass of pain already, and the punches just seemed like more acute points of it spreading throughout my body, like when your hands are cold already and you decide to grip an ice cube. The world darkened for a brief moment, and I fell back to the ground, blinking. I stayed that way for a moment, hoping this would all just be over soon so Wyatt could crawl back beneath his rock and I’d be done with the whole charade. Around me the bikers cheered, hooting and hollering and slapping their boss on his naked, sweaty back. “Way to go, Wyatt!” one man called.
“Pull ‘em to his feet, boys,” Wyatt Axelrod called after a moment, “that way we can show him what happens to people who fuck with Skull and Bones.”
Just a little more, I figured as the bikers dragged me to my feet. Hopefully the girls were gone by now, into the woods like I’d told them to. I couldn’t smell any of them, not even Jessica, because of the hits my nose had taken. After this, they’d let me go. And, if they didn’t…well, the pack was here.
Wyatt, a big, lopsided, evil grin plastered to his lips and his eyes fixated on me, put his hand back over his shoulder. I watched through heavily lidded, swollen eyes as one of the bikers slapped that big chrome revolver back into his hand. “Gonna find out what happens when you fuck with Skull and Bones, Murdoch.”
Stupid Wyatt. I’d given him an out! A way to avoid what was coming, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I shook my head and coughed so hard my body wracked itself painfully. “So what?” I asked. “You going back out on our deal? Kill me anyways?”
He walked slowly up to me, closing the distance in twice the time it normally would have taken, each boot crunching in the gravel loudly as he crossed the circle. “We ain’t just gonna kill you, Murdoch. We’re gonna find your women-folk out in the trees, too, and we’re gonna have a little party in this cabin here. Don’t worry, though, we’ll put you in a shallow grave out back so the girls ain’t gotta smell you while we’re having our fun. Wouldn’t wanna ruin the mood and all.”
I growled and narrowed my eyes at him, struggling against the men holding me. “Fuck you, Axelrod. Fuck you and your stupid fucking gang. You’re all a bunch of fucking bitches.”
“Ain’t my fault you brought fists to a gunfight,” he said with a wicked grin, swinging the gun down in front of him and pressing the barrel to my forehead. “Bye bye, Mr. Murdoch. Been real shit knowing you.”
“No!” a woman’s voice screamed from beside the cabin. “Don’t you dare! Fuck you, you lying pussies!”
My heart dropped. “Jessica!” I shouted. “No! I told you to run! Stay back!”
Wyatt didn’t even flinch at her shouts, though. He just grinned more widely. “Bye bye, now.”
He did flinch, though, when I began to shift.
Chapter Forty-five – Jessica
; If either Sheila or Lacy had told me it was possible, I wouldn’t have believed it for a moment. If the New York Times ran a breaking news story, or CNN covered it all day, everyday, for a solid year, I still would have thought it was a hoax, a giant lie.
How could werewolves be real? How could a man become a wolf?
And here it was, right in front of my eyes, not more than fifty feet away, and I still didn’t believe it.
We all—me, Sheila, and the bikers—watched in horror as fur sprouted from Richard’s body, as his legs became somehow larger, more powerful, as his ears shifted positions on his head, as his nose and face lengthened into a snout. “Run!” he growled with still human vocal chords. “Run, Jessica!”
Sheila and I stumbled back, silently screaming in horror as the man I thought I loved turned into a giant sandy colored wolf, the bikers dropping him from their grip as he slid from his jeans, the waistline no longer tight enough to keep them on.
A gun fired, Wyatt’s revolver I thought, but I couldn’t tell for sure, and one of the bikers fell to the gravel, screaming he’d been hit.
“Jessica!” Lacy shouted as she grabbed my arm, tried to pull me back towards the woods. “Sheila, Jess, we gotta go! Richard’s fine, okay?”
I brought the axe up defensively, both hands gripping the shaft as I spun on her. “You knew! Didn’t you? You knew!”
“Of course I knew!” she shouted in my face. “How else would I know he was going to be safe? Why else wouldn’t I be so worried?”
Behind us, lupine snarls filled the clearing. The night became a cacophony: brush breaking, limbs snapping, men screaming. More wolves were pouring into the clearing, their pony-sized bodies slamming into the leather-clad bikers.
“Come on!” Lacy screamed, “You don’t want to see this! The guys will find us in the woods afterwards!”
It was like my whole world was crashing down around me. Everything I’d known, about biology, about life, about the animal kingdom, about magic not being real, about monsters not being real, all of it was bleeding away from my mind, a whole building of beliefs and knowledge coming apart brick by brick by brick. I shook my head fervently and backed away from her. “Sheila,” I said shakily, “we need to go. Do you have your keys?”
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