by D V Wolfe
I hung up and immediately dialed Stacks, not giving myself time to think better of it. “Stacks, if you’re still with Rosetta and Tags, get them to fill you in. Basically, we rolled the dice and we got snake eyes. Not even snake eyes. The dice exploded in our face. You were right. Man, I’ve been saying that a lot today. This was a terrible idea. I probably won’t see you again. I’m sorry about your trailer. You’ve always been like a bratty, brainy, younger brother to me. We fight and pick at each other more than anyone I’ve ever known, but you’re always the first person I call when I need help. Keep on going. Other hunters benefit so much from all your research and experiments. I know you’ll figure out what’s happening in Messina. Take care of yourself.”
I hung up and listened to Vince and Mick in the kitchen. It sounded like they’d switched places and now it was Mick complaining while Vince stitched. Every hiss of pain and muttered cuss word was a stab in my gut. They’d taken those stab wounds because of me. They’d been shot because of me. No more.
I had one more phone call to make. I debated even trying. What was I going to say? Would it end up just hurting him more? There was a reason I’d kept him at arm’s length. But now it was the end. Would it matter? If it hurt, he could just delete the message. I dialed Gabe’s number and listened to the sound of him clearing his throat and then the beep sounded. I couldn’t say anything at first, the lump in my throat was too big, threatening to choke me. “I…” I closed my eyes and forced the lump aside. “I’m sorry,” I said, chickening out. “I should have listened to you. Things went badly in Sicily. I’m going to do my damndest to fix them, but I’ll probably never get the chance to tell you any of this, so I wanted to leave you a message.” Even to me, this sounded lame, but I pressed on. “I want you to know if things had been different...but you do know...Thank you for being around. And being with me...with us on this last hunt and looking into Salvation. I hope you’re safe.” The pain in my chest was making it hard to breathe now. “I wanted you to know…” I stopped, teetering on the cliff edge. I wasn’t going to feel it when I hit the bottom, so why be cautious?
“I...like you,” I whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut. Even now, I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.
“Did you even clean that needle before you started on me?” Mick whined from the kitchen. I snapped the phone closed and sniffed. Then my nose reminded me it was broken and the pain snapped me back into the moment. It took me two tries to get to my feet and I stood there in Hilda’s living room, without Hilda and the weight of what I had to do, suddenly didn’t feel so overwhelming. It was just what I had to do. I’d started down this road, ten years ago, hunting by myself, figuring it out as I went. It felt right, that’s how I was going to end it. I pushed the despair and the sadness into a corner in my head and turned towards the door. Time for the new plan’s stage two.
23
I made it to the front door. The storm outside had turned to just a downpour of rain with mild winds. I slipped outside and moved as quickly as I could to Lucy. I went to the passenger side and popped open the toolbox. I had no idea if I even had what I needed. It had been so long since I’d hunted any werewolves, my supply might be out. I dug around and felt the sharp point of a needle prick my finger. I tugged on the leather bag the needle was sticking out of and looked inside. Two doses left. Exactly what I needed. This actually unnerved me more than reassured me. It was a weird time for fate to be stepping in. I turned back to the house and I stopped in my tracks. There were the citizens of Ashley again, crowding the walkway and the front stoop into Hilda’s house. Burning and crying and looking at me to help them. I felt around my neck and noticed the dead bat was gone.
“I’m sorry I failed,” I whispered. “I’ll be seeing you soon, and you can take it out of my hide.”
I kept my head down, looking through the leather bag, doing an inventory. I pulled the blowgun tube out of the toolbox and moved around the truck to open the other side of the toolbox. Mr. McHenry and his pet rabbit, Rhone were standing by the driver’s door. He clutched the rabbit to him as they both were engulfed in flames. I dug around in the toolbox and came up with a plastic bag of clothes. What was left of my jeans were falling off. I pulled out my only other pair of jeans and another a-shirt with only a couple of rips in it and closed the toolbox.
“ ‘Scuse me, Mr. McHenry,” I said as I walked through the vision. “You can let Rhone eat me like a carrot when I get back downstairs.”
I slipped back inside the house, bringing the Ashley townsfolk with me. I changed in the living room and pulled the tranquilizer darts out of the bag. They were actually meant for large dogs but I used them to subdue the werewolves before I slit their throats with a silver knife. Werewolves, being supernatural and pretty damn strong, the darts usually only kept them down for about ten minutes. I was hoping with Vince and Mick, it might give me a half-hour head start, but they were technically supernaturals too. I loaded the blowgun with the first dart and I pulled a piece of paper off a side table. I grabbed a pen and scribbled a note to the two of them to read when they woke up from their involuntary nap.
Thanks for all the help. Go back and take care of your Angelics. I’m hoping I’ll be able to do enough damage to slow the cannibals down if nothing else. Thanks for coming when no one else would. Vince, I know you’ll understand why I have to try to get them back. I’m sorry for darting you. Mick, I’m sorry you might have tetanus. Not sorry for darting you, you broke my nose. Take care of yourselves.
I picked up the blowgun and moved around to be able to see the two of them in the kitchen, with their backs to me. Vince was standing over Mick, cutting the dental floss attached to a wound on Mick’s shoulder. “There, you big baby. That was the last one.” They both had their shirts off and I could see white floss stitches scattered across their shoulders and arms. “I gotta wake up Bane and get her in here next.” I shot the first dart into the back of Vince’s neck. Vince paused and then sat down hard on the chair behind him.
“Vince?” Mick asked, turning to look at him. I was already loading the second dart when Mick turned to look at me. “Bane?” I fired. Mick stared at the dart sticking out of his shoulder in horror. He reached for it but his other arm was heavy and he groaned as he pulled at his stitches, trying to reach it. He sagged forward onto the table, his eyes fighting to stay open. I picked up the note and dropped it onto the table between the two of them. I picked up the bag of frozen peas they’d left on my face and ran it under the sink to get the blood off before I threw it back in the freezer. I grabbed the black duffle bag off the living room floor along with one of the flamethrowers they’d tossed down the hall. I left my cell phone on the coffee table in the living room. I wouldn’t need it anymore.
24
The road back to Sicily felt much shorter than it had on the previous two trips. Maybe fate was just pushing me along to the credits. The road was lined in front of me and on the sides by the burning visions of the people of Ashley. I did my best to ignore them. Instead, I caught myself looking over at the empty passenger seat, out of habit. The first few days Noah had ridden with me, I’d caught myself looking to make sure he was actually there and not a figment of my imagination. I’d been hunting alone ever since Gary died and I had forgotten what it was like to have the same person to talk to every day. I tightened my hold on the steering wheel. If this was, and there was a good chance it would be, the last thing I did on this earth, I was going to get Noah, Hilda, and Joel out of this mess.
The road to the trailer park was busier than it had been on the previous trip. For one thing, there was a school bus parked across both lanes right at the entrance to the trailer park. I wasn’t going to be able to drive past it and park where Vince and Mick and I had. I wouldn’t have anyway. They probably had some cannibals hanging out in the weeds over there now, waiting for us to come back, so they could ambush us. A black Town Car was poking out from behind the warehouse Joel had parked his SUV behind, so that was out as well. I flipped a u-
turn and headed back down the road.
The last warehouse on the left side had a barbed wire-topped, chain link fence running around it. It met the road with a chain-link gate and a padlock. I pulled out my lockpicking set and tried to not think about Stacks and Noah making fun of me for my skills or lack thereof at this crucial moment. I bent down next to the padlock putting my face about an inch away from Mrs. Smithson’s burning petticoats. I tugged on the padlock and it popped open. I turned it over and saw that someone else had already drilled out the pins and most likely, the padlock was just for show now. I pushed the gates open and drove Lucy in. I parked at the back behind the warehouse, hoping she wouldn’t be visible from the road. If cannibals were patrolling the whole line of warehouses, hopefully, they were lazy and wouldn’t bother coming all the way to the end. I realized I was pinning a lot on hope, but it was about all I had to go on at the moment.
I got out and slid the machete back into its holster, reloaded and shoved Rosetta’s .45 into the back of my jeans, loaded the sawed-off from a random assortment of loose shells in the truck, and strapped on the flamethrower. I took a moment to thank fate for letting the fanny pack rip, causing the ammo to fall out before I’d fricasseed the cannibal laying on top of me.
I hugged the side of the warehouse as I moved back towards the gate, leading to the road. I’d pre-pumped the action on the sawed-off and I held the nozzle of the flamethrower in my other hand. I poked my head around the warehouse and squinted in the mid-morning sun looking for any movement. Besides the burning visions surrounding me, everything was still. There was a soft summer breeze blowing through a scraggly patch of weeds by the gate. I could smell the bonfire from here and there were shouts in the distance, but either their patrol had gone on a brunch break or they were lying in wait for me. I pulled the chain-link gate closed behind me and replaced the chain and padlock. Might as well keep up the appearance that it was locked. I thought about walking in the ditch. I knew it would be safer, but much slower than just walking down the road. It may already be too late to save them, but if even one minute would make the difference, I didn’t want to risk anything that would slow me down.
I strained my ears to listen as I got closer to the trailer park. If I could draw them out to the road and pick them off as they tried to get around all the vehicles and now the bus, I might be able to take a lot of them down. I looked closer at the bus as I approached. It was a yellow school bus. Even in the bright sunlight, I could see the blinkers still flashing, the red STOP sign extended. And even at this distance, I could see the blood smeared the length of the side. I couldn’t leave any of these fuckers alive. None. This had to end.
The sound of a car coming up the road behind me, made me pause. Is this the moment that Johnny Law would decide to show up, see me with several illegal weapons and haul me off to the pokey while Noah, Hilda, and Joel were turned on a spit over the fire? Or was this one of cannibal fleet Town Cars bearing down on me? The car was getting closer. If it was one of the tribe’s fleet, I might be able to shoot the driver from here. I holstered the sawed-off and pulled the .45 from the back of my jeans, squinting at the dust cloud announcing their approach, trying to make out what kind of car it was. It was more than one car. If these were reinforcements showing up to join the tribe and they caught me first...even with the flamethrower, multiple cars full of hostiles would be a tall order to subdue at one time.
They were getting close enough for me to see the sun reflect off the grille. It was definitely an old luxury car in the front. I couldn’t tell the color. I hesitated for a moment and then dove into the ditch to my left. I crouched down, unable to see the road, but fairly certain the oncoming cars wouldn’t be able to see me. I heard the cars slowing down as they approached and I closed my eyes. I was a moron. I should have walked the ditches to start with, then they would have just blown past me. I looked around. I was near the driveway to the next set of warehouses. These had a fence around them too, but the driveway went over the ditch, supported underneath by a short drainage tunnel to keep water flowing down the ditch in the rainy season. I got on my hands and knees and backed into the tunnel as far as I could. I set down the sawed-off and two-handed the .45. If I fired the sawed-off in the tunnel, the spray wouldn’t clear the end and I would have just given myself an additional challenge that I didn’t need. The cars had stopped now and I heard footsteps crunching on the loose gravel scattered across the cracked pavement. There were some muffled voices and then someone jumped down into the ditch right next to the drainage tunnel. I squeezed off a shot.
“Shit! She’s shooting at me!”
I had to be hallucinating. The burning people of Ashley were lining the ditch, staring into the tunnel at me, but I was still pretty sure I’d heard…
“You go down there Tags,” Stacks said. “I’m not in a hurry to get shot.”
“Bane!” Rosetta shouted down into the ditch. “You get your ass up here now. No more taking potshots at Stacks. I know it’s a fantasy for all of us but we’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
The shock and relief was so overwhelming that it took me a minute to get my brain to move my limbs. I clambered out of the tunnel and looked up at Rosetta, standing on the edge of the road, one hand on her hip, one holding her twelve-gauge, Big Joe. Beside her, Tags was wearing his ratty ball cap and toting an uzi. Hiding behind Tags, was Stacks. He was peeking out from behind Tags and glaring at me.
“You came,” I croaked.
Rosetta glared at me. “Of course we came. You shut your damn phone off for days and we kept trying to call you. Gabe was worried sick, so we just headed out here. We just tried calling it again and we got the two dog men.” There was more door slamming and I saw the yellow Jeep was parked behind Rosetta’s pink Cadillac. A very pissed looking Vince, followed by a very pissed looking Mick got out of the car and stomped over to me.
“You’re an asshole, Bane.” Vince barked. “Darting us?”
I grinned at him, the relief moving like an adrenaline shot to my heart, through every inch of me. “Sorry. It seems you recovered quickly.”
Mick shook his head. “That shit doesn’t work very long on us. I think we were out maybe five minutes.”
“Yeah,” Vince said. “And then your damn phone started ringing and Mick and I woke up and stumbled around for another ten minutes until we figured out the ringing wasn’t inside our heads and answered it.”
I really wanted to hug him, but I thought it might not be good to push my luck any further than I had already.
“Worst fucking hangovers,” Vince said. He dug something out of his pocket and dangled it from his hand, his grimace changing to half a smirk. “I knew you wouldn’t want to forget this.”
It was the mummified bat necklace. I scrambled up the embankment and grabbed it from him. I put it on and then turned to look around me. The visions were gone. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“What is that awful thing?” Rosetta asked, taking a step back away from me.
“Long story,” I said, a new surge of energy firing through me. There was the sound of another vehicle approaching behind us and we all swung around, weapons trained on the sound. It was higher pitched than a car engine. The dust cloud was smaller too. My chest tightened when I realized it was a motorcycle. Gabe pulled to a stop behind the Jeep and swung off his bike, pulling off his helmet and staring around at all of us, our weapons still trained on him.
“Hell of a welcome,” Gabe said. We all lowered our weapons and Gabe’s gaze found me. “Did I miss the party?” he asked. He squinted at me. “Geez Bane, you look like hell. Did someone break your nose?” I pointed at Mick, who raised his hand.
“That was me,” Mick said. “We had to knock her out to get her out of here the first time.”
“And what’s around your neck?” Gabe asked, squinting at my chest.
“Long story,” I said. “For another time.”
Rosetta was leaning forward now, staring at the .45 in my hand, “Is that my gun!
?”
“Long story,” I snapped. “For another time.” She looked ready to spit nails and I held up a hand. “Look, we’re about a quarter of a mile from somewhere around a hundred or more cannibals who will be completing a Red Moon Rite with Festus as the blood and body tonight if we don’t get him and the others out of there. We need to get a plan together, preferably not in the open and in full view of the assholes we’re about to ambush.” They were all silent so I pressed on. “I stashed Lucy down the road behind the last warehouse. Follow me down there. We can stash the rest of the vehicles and come up with a way to get the others out and not die in the process.” Again, I sounded more sure than I felt but looking around at the pissed and exasperated faces as they moved to get back in their vehicles, I’d never felt so sure of one thing. This was my family. Gabe hadn’t moved. He was still looking at me, his gaze fixed on my nose.