The Witch and the Werewolf Page 14
“It’s pretty good, huh?” he asked the kid.
“What is?”
“All this,” he said, motioning around the ship in a wide circle. “We just might make it.”
“I guess,” the boy said reluctantly. “If we survive the werewolves.”
“Keep that down,” Dutch ordered. “No reason to spook the natives just yet.”
“Okay,” the boy responded, taking a tray of food. Dutch was surprised at the number of blind in the ship. That any had first somehow survived the tsunami and then made their way to the ship was just as amazing luck as the priest’s on where the ship filled with supplies had settled. The boy was different than them, though. Dutch was also shocked no one had asked how he managed about so normally without any eyes.
“You like her, don’t you?” the boy finally asked as they took their trays to a table.
“Who?”
“You know who. Cassandra.”
“Sure,” Dutch replied. “She’s a pretty cool lady.”
“I don’t mean like that.”
“Then just how do you mean?” Dutch asked. The boy being uncomfortable asking the grown up questions tickled him.
“I mean like a girlfriend. You like her like that.”
He was attracted to girl for sure. She was beautiful and, when she wasn’t busy being a spoiled little girl, he found her funny and genuine. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that she was some sort of warrior witch queen with superhuman powers.
“I don’t know, kid. She’s way younger than me,” he said, though he knew the ten year difference wasn’t all that much, especially considering the apocalypse and werewolf wars. “And besides, even if I did, she’s not into me. Not like that. Hell, Jeremy, I don’t even think the girl likes me.”
“You’re wrong. She does. But he’s in her head.”
“The wolf?”
The boy shook his head in agreement as he shoveled a spoonful of chicken noodle soup into his mouth.
“And what’s he doing while he’s in there?”
“I don’t know for sure. I can’t see thoughts. But I can see her confusion and pain when she thinks about him. I think she might… I don’t know. She might want to kiss him or something.”
A child’s simplification of an adult relationship to the act of kissing was fascinating. The fact that the boy had picked up on the subtle shift in Cassandra’s attitude towards the wolf was worrisome, but he tried not to let it bother him. He’d watched her kill the wolves, admired her in battle. He didn’t think she was about to consort with the enemy.
“I wouldn’t worry about it kid. We’re going to have bigger things on our plates before long.” The werewolves were coming, he knew. He just wanted a meal and a nap before they got there.
“I want you to kiss her.”
“Huh?”
“If you kiss her she’ll forget about that werewolf and like you.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know how to explain adult relationships to you, kid. But it’s more complicated than just kissing her or passing her a note. And I’m telling you, that girl does not care for me one bit. I’m surprised she didn’t shoot me in the back on the way here. So moot point.”
“I wish you’d quit calling me kid.”
“I know, kid,” Dutch said with a smile.
“And you’re wrong about her not liking you.”
“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”
“She changes colors when she talks to you. I don’t think that green means hate.”
“Interesting,” Dutch said, but before he got a chance to ask more alarms began sounding throughout the ship. He stopped one of the people running through the ships hold.
“Hey, whats the alarm for?”
“Werewolves. Father O’Leary said they’d come for us. I didn’t believe him. Guess he was right.”
“Great,” Dutch said, staring at the bowl of chicken noodle soup that was about to be left uneaten.
“Okay kid, find a place to hide. Dinner bell is ringing.”
Cassandra took the steps leading out of the dark basement three at a time, pistol in one hand and one of her mother’s swords in the other. The area inside the unfinished wall was awash in men running with weapons towards the walls, weapons raised. Others fled up the ramp into the ship. She heard the wolves howl in the distance followed by the first rattle of automatic gunfire. The priest was atop the wall, rifle in hand.
“Do not fire until you see them. That silver is not easily replaceable!” the man ordered in his thick, Irish accent.
The rubble wall was covered in ice and sleet making her accent tough. She finally joined the priest at his side, scanning the darkness.
“I hope your powers will help us,” he whispered to her. There was an appraising look there much like someone examining cuts of meat at a butcher’s. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, and Jeremy’s warning about the man rang in her mind.
Men and women scrambled into prone positions along the wall as far as she could see, rifles pointed outward into the dark night. The wall stretched four city blocks, around two of the remains of buildings, the ship, and the old church’s foundation.
“We shouldn’t be fighting them at all,” Cassandra said evenly. She’d imagined all the wolves magically turning back into people. “They shouldn’t be here.”
“What do you mean, my dear?”
“I killed him. I killed the alpha.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The werewolf in your basement was the alpha wolf. The first. I’ve shared his memories and thoughts for days and when he finally told me, it all made sense. I shot him between the eyes. He’s dead. There shouldn’t be any more wolves, right?”
The priest looked shocked and not the least bit angry. “He told you he was the alpha?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve seen that, in his thoughts?”
She shrugged. There was no explaining the connection they’d shared over the last few days. When she killed him she felt like she’d killed a part of herself as well. And yet she’d had to do it for the good of all men.
“It can’t be. He cannot be the alpha. It is not possible. No, my dear,” the priest told her, his doubt resolved, “I fear you are incorrect. Yes, he was a very old and powerful wolf. Perhaps the most powerful I’ve ever had the misfortune of running across. But he was not the alpha. A simple silver bullet to the head would not have killed the alpha. It would take something… altogether different. He was not the one we seek. He lied to you, for whatever reason. Who knows the mind of a monster? The alpha is still out there and you will bring him to me.”
She felt the pack out in the wastes, darting through the shadows and avoiding the light. She wasn’t connected to them in the way she had been the alpha, but she could feel their raw hate as they sought entry into the Church’s compound. She could taste their bloodlust.
“You should not have killed him never the less,” O’Leary continued. “He was our only chance to find the alpha and end this.”
“He was the alpha,” she insisted. “I could feel it as truth the moment he said it.” She wished Jeremy had been in the room with her. The boy would have been able to tell if the beast was lying or not simply by looking at him.
“And if he was the alpha, and you had not shot him, maybe we wouldn’t be facing hundreds of angry werewolf bearing down on our little camp right now, would we?” he said, dismissing her.
“Or your myth is wrong,” she said angrily. It was always the same. No one would listen to her. Fine, she thought. I’ll just fight them on my own.
“Where are you going?”
“To kill wolves,” she said, leaping into the air much as her mother had and feeling the power course through her body. She’d have to deal with this on her own.
Had the guard remained in the cell after Cassandra had planted the bullet in the wolf’s head, he would have seen the most astonishing thing. The
corpse was unmoving and still, yet there was activity there. The silver bullet Cassandra had put into his head wormed its way out, plopping down on the stone floor. The hole closed behind it, healing. The wolf’s heart restarted with a jolt and he jerked his head up.
The blackness had been absolute and he was sure that this time was the time. He was sure he’d died then, and the black sleep would take him for eternity. It had been, on its face, a ridiculous idea. He’d been killed many times before and each of those times he’d come back. The girl killing him hadn’t been any different. He just hoped it would be.
You didn’t kill the first wolf easily.
He’d hoped this time would be different simply because the girl was different. Their connection had been sudden and surprising and it was not the least bit disconcerting to have another presence in his mind. It wasn’t something he’d seen in his long history and the situation’s uniqueness had given rise to the hope that the girl might be able to kill him once and for all. It wasn’t to be, though, and he chided himself for hoping.
He felt the feral pack as they swarmed around the church. They would destroy the place and either destroy the survivors or add to their numbers. Their new pack leader, a recent convert, had delusions of grandeur, visions of his pack stretched from one end of the world to the other.
Idiot, he thought. You’d destroy your food source, hunting man into extinction. And what of your new pack then?
There were too many individual minds in the pack to make out, but the vast majority were new. They had no inkling of man’s former dominance. They’d never spent their days hiding in the shadows hoping the villagers with the pitch forks would not find them. They were high on the blood lust, driven by their desire to consume. The pack would swarm over them like a fur covered virus.
He had no sympathy for the human survivors. Whether they knew it or not, their kind had hunted his to the edge of extinction. Guilt by association. They were cattle, nothing more.
But the girl was different. She was, somehow, innocent of the human’s crimes against his race. She’d been a part of his mind for the last few days and it had linked them. The connection was gone with his rebirth, but he wanted it back.
He wanted the girl.
Dutch ran down the ramp and heard his old friend, automatic gunfire, calling to him.
Unfortunately, he also heard the howls of the wolves as they stormed the slick, ice covered wall. He rushed forward, rifle at the ready, and wished he’d taken the time to visit the priest’s store of precious silver ammunition before he’d tried to find a meal.
Dumb Dutch, he thought. Dumb, dumb, dumb.
The even dumber act had been leaving the girl by herself. It had been stupid to let her go face the beast that haunted her thoughts alone. He stared down into the basement of the church, knowing she’d gone down there to confront the wolf.
“Crap,” he muttered, descending the stairs. What do I keep getting myself into?
The bunker was empty, the door to the cell wide open. Dutch pushed through the opening, rifle raised.
“Hello, mercenary,” he heard the familiar voice call in the gloom. “I’d say it was nice to see you again but I would be lying.”
“Where is she?” Dutch asked, surprised at the fear in his voice. He’d already fought the wolf once, but that was when he didn’t understand their species. And he’d gotten very lucky. The wolves in the pack, out in the ruins, were puppies compared to this one. Just the simple fact that he hadn’t died with multiple silver gunshots was enough to make Dutch wary. He didn’t know how he’d kill the beast and that bothered him.
“She left after killing me,” the beast said with a sad laugh. “Killing me… I thought she would be the one to do it. I thought I’d finally found the person who would end this life for me. I was wrong.”
“Where is she?” Dutch demanded again, anger rising and replacing the fear. “If you did something to her I’ll find a way to kill you.”
The wolf laughed. “I wish it were so that you could. Unfortunately, I do not think it is possible. Some part of me has always known that, I suppose, but one can always hope for death, can they not?”
Impatiently Dutch demanded again, “Stop talking gibberish and tell me where the girl is!”
He was infuriated but that fury balanced with the fear he felt. It was an awkward situation to be in.
“You feel for her, do you not? And more than just common concern for her safety. There is a spark there, a longing for the girl. It is the beginning of something.”
“What’s between Cass and I is none of your business,” Dutch replied, thinking back to his conversation with the boy. He also felt stupid for even having the conversation with the werewolf in the first place. This was ridiculous.
“She feels for you as well, mercenary. But she’s confused and… I’m afraid a lion’s share of the blame goes to me. But we are not connected now. The bullet to my forehead severed that, at least for the moment. She is, however, in great danger. And despite her vigor and willingness to fight, she cannot take on two hundred wolves on her own. You must free me so that I may help in the fight.”
“Bull,” Dutch spat. “You expect me to free you? So you can tear through these survivors and join your buddies out there?”
“Do not misunderstand, mercenary. I care not what happens to your race. I care not what happens to me, at this point. But I do…” the wolf paused and Dutch could tell he was uncomfortable not only with what he was about to say, but the implications it held for him. “I do care about the girl. She was in my mind. It is impossible for me not to care about her. Free me and I will help you fend off this pack. Afterwards, I do not know. But I give you my word, on my honor, that no harm will come to these people, this night, at my hand.”
“I have no reason to trust you,” Dutch said, but he wavered. He knew Cassandra would wade out into the fight and the wolf was right. She probably wouldn’t survive.
“And you trust the priest? What do you really know of him? I can tell you that he is not what he appears.”
“What is he then?” Jeremy had said the same exact thing. What was going on here?
“I do not know for sure. He is very old, however. I’ve seen him as far back as the Spanish Inquisition. But being immortal generally doesn’t equate to being human. Free me, mercenary. Time is wasting. The pack is attacking the walls of this compound as we speak.”
“You’re the alpha, aren’t you? You’re the one the priest spoke of. If you die, they all die,” he said, raising the rifle again.
“I am. But Cassandra has proven, once again, that I cannot die. You are welcome to try, once more. I relish an end to this madness. You will be, however, wasting both of our time. But promise me one thing if you squeeze that trigger.”
“What?”
“If come back in a few moments, free me so that we might save the girl.”
Dutch did squeeze the trigger, but he didn’t shoot the wolf. The lock on the silver jail cell flew apart in a shower of sparks.
“If you’re lying to me,” he growled, mustering as much courage as he could, “I will find a way to destroy you.”
“And, once more, I hope you can do just that.”
For the second time Dutch watched as the man turned into a wolf. He couldn’t look away from the transformation and stared, slack jawed. The wolf was massive and powerful, ripping the shackles and chains free and then bounding past Dutch, up the stairs and into the battle.
Battle of the Wolf
Flying through the air, after she’d leapt away from the wall in anger and disgust, was the most exhilarating thing she’d ever known. She jumped higher than her mother, higher than even the wolves in the battle on the bridge. She flew through the air like a bird, watching below as the wolves crept through the ruins. She hadn’t thought of landing, though, and when gravity took over and she began to plummet towards the ground, she panicked. She tried pushing out the force bubble, like she had during the tsunami, but nothing happened.
Through the pain she wondered if she’d ever be able to actually control her powers or if they would always be a simple reaction, based on her emotional state. Would she ever have the control her mother had?
“Damn it mom,” she whispered, coming up in a crouch. “I really need you.”
The wolves were everywhere, swarming over the ice covered ruins like ants. She turned just in time to see a large male rush at her from the darkness. It hit her hard, knocking her over and sending her sword and pistol skittering away. She rolled away just in time before it lunged down at her, jaws snapping and dripping saliva. Cassandra dodged the other way as the wolf snapped down again. Its claws dug down into her shoulders and she screamed as she fumbled with the second sword, still secured in its scabbard. The wolf howled, head up right, in an attempt to frighten her but the act gave her just enough time to pull the sword free and wedge it up between the creature’s limbs.
“Get off me, dog,” she screamed at the beast, shoving the blade in even further. The wolf convulsed and changed above her, its arms shrinking, fur receding. Once the thing finished its transformation it died, collapsing on her. She shoved the wolf off, getting to her feet.
“One down,” she whispered, sheathing the one sword and then recovering her other along with the pistol. “How many to go?”
Two males rounded the collapsed remains of a small building got two pulls of the trigger. The big gun jumped in her hands but she managed to nail one of them. The wolf’s momentum carried it further as it transformed, changing to a human, and sliding dead to her feet. The other leapt over its compatriot, and raked at her with massive claws as she darted right. She tripped over the outstretched hand of the dead wolf, however, and fell onto the ice covered ground.