“No,” she said softly, catching the eyes of all four other group members. “Kayla and I found a shorter distance, less time in the woods to the site.”
Joule’s eyes flicked immediately to her brother as though to ask, is this okay?
He offered only the faintest of shrugs, but she couldn't imagine that Kayla had missed it. Were Kayla and Ivy right?
It was hard to tell. But there was no way to determine whether or not they should be trusted. There was only the logic that there was no specific reason not to.
The group headed down the street toward Kayla's supposedly shorter entry point.
“It's longer in general,” Ivy offered in a soft whisper, “but we’ll spend less time in the woods, and the woods seems to be the most dangerous place.
Speaking, too, was odd, and Joule felt it in her bones. She and Cage had gone out almost completely silently, but now there were whisper discussions.
It felt like too many people to coordinate—people who didn't trust each other enough to just stay quiet and follow along.
It was clear Kayla and Ivy knew each other well, as did Joule and Cage. But Steve did not have that connection with anyone else in the group. Even with two groups, they still had to communicate between themselves.
The five of them approached the woods, stepping into the yard of the third house on the right, when Joule heard the noise.
She whipped around. Though they had been checking behind them, they had still managed to miss this.
A pack of hunters had appeared in the street. And though it seemed to have not spotted the people yet, Joule knew they couldn’t just sneak away.
These hunters—the bigger, bolder hunters—seemed to have learned to stay out of the streetlights. That was something their predecessor pack had not known.
Joule was asking herself if the intelligence of the leader played into it, even as she let an arrow fly. Immediately, she reached back, plucked another and notched it.
She had arrows in two of the creatures and noticed Cage had shorter crossbow pieces embedded into two others. Each missile landed with a thunk, speed driving the shaft into muscle and flesh and eliciting a grunt or howl.
At first, the hunters milled in the street, growing irritated with the attack but unable to find their attackers. But as Joule sank another arrow, the hunters either spotted the group or were moving toward the arrows. They began to approach.
The pack, it seemed, did not care about its own wounded individuals, and that made them even more dangerous. Joule let another arrow fly before the canines got close enough to become a hand-to-hand threat.
Quickly, she glanced over to see if Steve was still breathing normally. At least he appeared to be.
It was Kayla who stepped up, and Joule could have heard sworn she heard an angry, muttered, “Fuckers ate my dogs.”
She remembered then that Kayla and Ivy had moved in with several pit bulls in tow. It was enough to make her wonder, at the time, if the two gentle-looking women had started a dog fighting ring on their street. Clearly, that was not the case. The pets had been beloved, and Kayla was now pissed.
She stepped forward as a huge canine jumped up at her, baring the shiny teeth in its massive jaws. Kayla began jabbing and slicing, generally fighting in a haphazard manner. She cut through air half the time, but still managed to lay deep wounds into the first attacker and then any of the hunters that got close enough to feel her blade. Her anger seemed enough of a fighting method to get her through.
Steve had moved behind Joule, closing the circle with Ivy as Kayla continued fighting the approaching hunters. Behind them, Steve and Cage were swearing blue streaks and guarding their backs.
Joule had turned to the side of the group and Cage stood directly behind her, facing the other way, the five of them forming a small circle ready to defend themselves the best they could. But Joule was pissed. They’d come out for Susan and wound up with a fight on their hands before they’d even found her.
Steve's voice was only attracting more hunters, she knew, but since the pack had already found them, she wondered if there was purpose in shutting him up. Still, she shushed him.
He nodded back at her, his fists still clenching two of his prized kitchen knives. Only Susan had carried a gun of any kind. None of them were well enough trained to hit a dog and not a person. They couldn’t kill a random onlooker by accident with a sword or knife.
Her eyes tracking movement just beyond the edge of the dim streetlight, Joule watched as one of the hunters came around to flank the group. She put an arrow in its side and notched another. Shooting a second into the same hunter finally began to slow it down.
They would not get encircled, she told herself
Steve, at least, had shut up.
“Water!” Kayla called out and Joule glanced to her left where Kayla and Ivy fought as the front line.
She watched as the two women deftly plucked the water bottles they’d brought from the bag each wore at her hip. Using a single finger, each flipped the lid on a bottle and aimed them at the hunter’s faces. Almost as one, they squirted the water at open, panting mouths.
Joule could only pray and wait. She pulled the bow tighter and swung to her right.
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Cage heard the scream, but he didn't know who or what had made it. When he heard it a second time, he paid closer attention. It did sound human.
It flitted through his mind that it was probably Susan. And if it was Susan, she had brought this on herself. She’d known not to go out on her own. But a second set of thoughts followed the first. What if it wasn't Susan? What if it was someone else who was caught outside? What if it was a kid?
Steve, who was turning his head frantically looking between Cage and his sister, finally settled on Cage. As Cage watched in horror, a hunter came up behind Steve. He was pointing at it to warn the man as Steve turned back to the canine that had gotten precariously close. Even as he swung at the hunter, Steve told him “Go! We've got this. You get her.”
Cage almost rebelled. Susan could take what she got. Don’t split up the group. But like Nate, Susan had already broken that cardinal rule, and saving her meant breaking it again. Besides, Joule was already running.
Two steps behind her, he realized that if they could find Susan, they too would have a group of three. Not that Susan would be much of an advantage. But at least they could form into two groups again, instead of three.
Joule still held her bow in her hand. But as he watched, she was slinging it over her shoulder, reaching to her hip and grabbing for her stilettos, coming up with one in each grip. She didn’t miss a step as she darted past him and into the woods.
He was right behind her, thinking that wasn’t a bad idea. He managed to sling the crossbow over one shoulder, knowing that it would bounce, but doing it anyway. It freed his hands to reach for his short sword and his dagger. If anything, a fight in the woods would be hand-to-hand.
The twins ran blindly into the trees, staying close, picking their feet up high and trying not to trip over roots and twigs on the unfamiliar path. More than once, Cage came down on a stick, and only by sheer force of will did he keep his ankle from rolling as he crashed through it.
Periodically, he turned and looked over his shoulder. He noticed his sister was checking, too. But they pushed through the underbrush, staying on the path and heading toward where they had heard the very human sound. He had no idea if they were going the right direction. But then he heard it again. Another scream, a swear, a human grunt.
Still not certain it was Susan, he had managed to figure out it was adult and female. Probably Susan, he thought—but he wouldn't know until he saw her.
Joule’s long legs ate up the ground. Though Cage was taller, her drive must have been stronger, and he fought to keep up.
He heard the noises again. Closer, and this time Joule must have felt it was worth the risk. “Susan!” she hollered out. “Susan!”
The woman yell back, “Over here!” quickly followe
d by, “Fucker!”
Clearly the last word was not aimed at the two of them.
Cage had already surmised before he could see it that the meat with the rat poison had not killed all of the night hunters in this pack. He'd hoped it would do a thorough job, but he’d not believed. Because, even after they had baited their own pack for some time, the hunters had not all been dead. Some had still been strong enough to put up a decent fight.
That was part of the reason Susan had been stupid to come in here.
He heard it then—the blast of a shotgun and a thump as she hit something hard. Cage pulled up short behind Joule, the two of them skidding to a stop as they watched Susan swing the shotgun like a bat, catching a hunter upside the head. It tipped off to the side, legs crossing, paw over paw, as it fought to stay upright.
Susan swore at the animal, words Cage would have guessed the old woman didn't even know and certainly would have scolded him for if he had said them.
“On your left!” Joule called, raising her arm and throwing one of the stilettos as though it were a knife. It thumped the hunter but fell to the ground. Maybe she had caused a good bruise, or hit something vital. Still, it was probably a mistake to lose her weapon, he thought.
The blow did seem to stall the hunter though, which gave him a moment to react. Joule used her now-empty hand to deftly pull the bow off of her shoulder and he realized her change of weapon was the better decision.
Grabbing for his own crossbow, and feeling the bruise on his back where it had bounced for the whole run, he clutched the straps and swung it around. Mounting an arrow, he aimed for the hunter to Susan's right.
The silver-haired woman was staring down one that must have been right in front of her. Cage couldn't see it, but the night hunter and Susan had spotted each other. He heard the blast as the shotgun went off again and watched as the elderly woman reloaded quickly and easily.
Cage sank crossbow arrows into the sides of hunters, who paid no attention to him. He didn’t know if they couldn’t spot him or if they just hated Susan more, but he shot again and again and watched as several of the canines wobbled off to the side.
That was when he saw Susan's leg—shredded.
Perhaps the scream had happened when one of the hunters had grabbed her. But another one of them was coming at her, and now still another one was diving for her leg again.
Joule had run up closer, almost too close to use her bow and arrows, but she’d managed to sink several more. At least the hunters toppled and fell as she hit them—maybe the poison was helping to make them easier to fight—and Cage tried to keep up, shooting any that he could get a clear line of sight on.
He then noticed the shovel Susan had abandoned. Slinging his crossbow over his shoulder once again, he leaned down and picked the tool up in a smooth motion. He had too much adrenaline to notice if it any of it hurt.
The shovel was heavy and firm in his hands. This one was not collapsible. And when he used the metal end to hit the nearest hunter, it offered a satisfying thunk.
He felt as though he had been fighting for some time when, at last, the three of them stopped. They stood breathing heavily, but they were the last ones standing.
Susan leaned over and put her hands on her knees. Cage understood the desire. He would have done it, too, but it wasn’t a safe position.
Quickly, Susan appeared to catch on and stood back up, though her breathing was still heavy. She stood now like the twins did, scanning the woods around them with the tip of her shotgun leading the way. There must have been another round left in her barrel.
Joule had changed positions, putting her back to Susan's. Standing with one foot in front of the other, still ready to fight. She had an arrow in place, should she see anything.
But the arrow stayed notched.
Cage stepped in and became the third side of the triangle, watching for anything coming from his side. But nothing moved. It was Susan who first declared them done.
“We got them. I dug them up and killed a bunch. There's three dead ones over there.” She pointed with the tip of the shotgun, and Cage tipped his head just quickly enough to catch the direction and see the turned earth she pointed at. “We got them all!”
He could hear the glee in her voice, even though she was still scanning the space with the tip of her shotgun, which showed that, although she’d declared it, she didn't quite believe it.
He heard his own breath soughing in and out of his lungs. His chest heaved and he thought, good. It's over.
But then he turned to his sister.
Joule’s face turned to his, but her expression was anything but triumphant.
“If this is the pack—the one we baited and fed the poison to—then who's out on the street fighting Kayla and Ivy and Steve?”
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Joule ran only a few feet before she realized that there was no way Susan could keep up. She probably couldn’t keep up on a good day, and certainly not now with the gash in her leg. Joule’s brain went through rapid iterations of the options.
Should she pull off one of her shirts? She had two on. The top shirt was long sleeved and would cover Susan’s wound well. But the undershirt was just that. Her arms and shoulders were not covered in the carbon black powder and she would shine like a beacon in the forest. Also, to get to it, she’d have to take off all of her weapons—which wasn’t safe, not out here.
But if she did it, she would have a shirt, and she could bind the old woman’s wound. Would it make Susan fast enough? She thought not. Would it cover the blood and maybe stop the hunters from coming after them? Joule didn’t know. The creatures didn’t have a good sense of smell, so maybe it wouldn’t change anything.
They hadn’t brought bandages. They had a kit in the car, but they hadn’t carried all the materials into the fray.
It was Susan who reached out. “Give me one of those water bottles. I’ll rinse it and then I’ll keep going.”
“No!” Cage protested suddenly and too loudly for the woods at night. He made it clear that she could not have these water bottles. “We need to tie it up,” he said, clearly having followed a similar train of thought to Joule’s.
It was Susan who looked back and forth between the two of them. The look on her face said she was clearly disappointed in their lack of pre-planning and failure to bring a first-aid kit for her.
Well, Joule thought, she was disappointed in most of Susan’s life choices right now. So Susan could stuff it.
After Joule just stared at her for a moment, as though to say she didn’t know what to do, Susan eventually pulled off her own long sleeved sweater. At least she had come out in black. Underneath it, she wore another three quarters-sleeved black shirt. To Joule, it looked far too nice to be out in the woods in, but apparently, Susan had not thought about the quality of her garments and the filthiness of the fight before her.
Though the shirt was black on black, sequins beaded the neckline and made a pattern of flowers and leaves down the front. It was a light catcher, that was for sure. But Susan was already wrapping the black sweater around her lower leg. It stretched as she pulled at it, making it go much further than it otherwise might have. When she ran out of sleeves and knotted it, her leg was bulked to the point where it probably hindered her walking.
“Go,” she said, motioning them back toward the street. “Who knows what I just tied into my leg, but go.”
Her older hand, slightly gnarled at the knuckles, waved them on. But Joule had no doubt that hand could deal out what it wished. She’d certainly shown she could wield a shotgun with skill.
Joule jogged now, no longer flat out running the way she had to get here. If she did, they would leave Susan in the dust. It was not okay to do that. The woman could not keep up and there was every possibility that there were more hunters in the woods behind them, or even in front of them.
Though Susan had declared the job done, Joule was not going to accept the answer the older woman doled out. She watched as her brother snuck around
to the back of the small group, putting Susan in the middle.
“I’m fine,” Susan protested.
“You’re injured,” Cage retorted, brooking no argument. The slower speed allowed him to walk mostly backward, thus guarding from anything coming up the trail behind them. He kept the crossbow lifted. Just in case.
Joule’s thoughts churned. With Susan’s leg covered, they made rapid—though not the fastest—time back toward where they had left the others. She couldn’t help but wonder, if these were the hunters they had baited, then who was in the street?
Another pack? She tried to remember if she recognized any of the individuals. But she’d been fighting, moving too quickly and paying attention to other things. Her adrenaline had been too high to make any of those kinds of analyses.
Had the pack split? She didn’t think so. On cursory glance—though again, she hadn’t been counting, and she tried to do her best from memory—it appeared that Susan had killed enough of them to account for the whole group they’d poisoned. It didn’t seem that the number they’d left behind was only half of what they’d been seeing… no, it wasn’t. She was sure of it.
Fuck, Joule thought. They believed they'd cleared out the territory and made way for another stronger pack to come in. But that hadn't been it at all. What they had done had been far, far worse. They had opened an arena for the strongest to come and test themselves.
As she emerged from the woods, Joule scanned the street up and down. Though Ivy, Kayla, and Steve, were fighting a good fight, there were still a sizeable number of the pack left. The animals appeared to be wounded and not attacking at full steam, but that didn’t stop them from coming in waves and wearing down the three humans that Joule and Cage had left behind.
Ivy and Kayla fought, moving backward and forward getting attacked and pushing against the oncoming dogs. But Steve had turned into some kind of madman. He was pushing into the center of the fight, almost as though he thought he was invincible.
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