The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) Page 24

  Jason thought, A riot?

  Then he saw the first werewolf, charging down the street, swiping at people. Victims, raked by its claws, stumbled away. And the dark object on the horizon came into full relief as panicked men and women fled through the streets.

  And from seemingly everywhere people burst from restaurants and bars and cars with werewolves lunging after them. Blood soaked torn suits and shredded evening dresses. Frighten mobs trampled the fallen wounded. Werewolves bit and clawed at any moving object.

  Jason stumbled onto the balcony. He clutched the cold metal railing. His breath dispersed into the night in white clouds, drifting up like the smoke filling the streets. “Oh, my dear Lord,” Jason breathed. The chaos, the screams resounded off the buildings. He darted back inside and slammed the door to muffle the cries.

  He looked toward the loft door leading to the interior hallway. Voices called in the hallway outside his door. He dug in his pocket for his cell phone and texted Ilene: Werewolves everywhere. Don’t come home. Please be safe. I love you.

  The noise in the hallway grew more distinct as footsteps ran past, and the hallway filled with shrieks and howls. Jason remembered images he had seen of Nazi’s raiding buildings. He fell to the couch, feeling he was witnessing the last night of the world.

  * * * *

  Carmen Salazar could not believe that she was spending another night off tailing Ilene Rune. She also couldn’t believe she convinced Lance to come along. The more she learned about the Runes, the more fear multiplied within her like a virus. She also felt that while they were not what they seemed, they were not necessarily the bad guys.

  She looked in the rearview mirror to check that her daughter Mona was still asleep in the backseat. She frowned, wondering if bringing her had been the best idea. But she also couldn’t leave her with a sitter after seeing Jared Kincaid rise from the dead. A paranoia was working its way through her mind, making her doubt everyone, everything. With Mona in the car, Carmen would do no more than trail Ilene from a distance. Ilene’s brake lights flared, and her car came to a stop at the side of the road. Carmen braked, and she could see, from a distance, that Ilene was picking someone up.

  “A hitchhiker?” Carmen wondered aloud.

  “Maybe,” Lance replied.

  Carmen let the car roll forward, when she realized that Ilene was turning around. Then, in the wash of the car’s headlights, Carmen thought she saw—something—a bear?

  The terror of the past year suddenly rose within her like a hot air balloon lifting, and the revelation of what she saw made her slam the brake, jolting the car. She watched, transfixed, as werewolves—and she knew without a doubt that’s what she saw—surrounded Ilene’s car.

  “Oh, Jesus!” Lance cried, jumping in his seat.

  Carmen looked again at Mona in the backseat. The child slept peacefully.

  With her lips trembling, she lowered her window. She pulled her gun from the holster, stuck her arm out the window, and punched the gas. “Get ready to shoot, Lance!”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe.” She began firing from a distance, scattering the werewolves. Two of her shots thudded into a werewolf’s chest.

  Lance rolled his window down, and his shots began to blast through the night. Carmen drove the car past Ilene’s and spun in a donut, her tires spraying gravel as she pulled up beside Ilene’s car.

  “Get in!” Carmen exclaimed.

  Gunshots rolled like thunder as Lance fired rapidly.

  Ilene and a boy Carmen did not recognize filed out of the Lexus and leaped into her car. Carmen saw two werewolves approaching and raised her gun. Lance fired off shots into their chests.

  “I shoot, you drive,” he ordered.

  He shot twice more. The werewolves staggered but continued forward.

  “Hold on to your asses,” Carmen said, hitting the gas. The car launched forward, leaving the werewolves glowing red in her tail lights.

  Mona was now awake in the backseat and crying. Ilene was trying to comfort her the hysterical four-year-old.

  “Werewolves,” the boy stammered. “Werewolves are real.”

  “Who are you?” Carmen demanded.

  “Collin.”

  “How do you know Ilene?”

  “I don’t. She just saved me.” Collin wiped his hands across his face, and the way it smeared the soot would have been comical under other circumstances. “They turned everybody into werewolves.”

  “Everybody who?” Lance shouted.

  “At the school. All the boys.” Collin shook. The soot began to wash off in trails with his sweat. “I hid.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do, so I hid.”

  “Oh, God.” Ilene assured him, “You did the right thing.”

  “Mom,” Mona wailed. Ilene clutched her to her chest to calm her.

  As Mona calmed, Ilene pulled her phone from her pocket. As she read the text, her face paled. She fought to control her voice. “My husband texted. They’re everywhere,” she whispered. “The werewolves. All over the city.” She buried her face in her hands, weeping.

  “What?” Carmen asked.

  “I heard them talking,” Collin explained, “that students were all over the city. That’s why. They turned them into monsters and let them loose.” Collin looked to the adults. “Where do we go?”

  Lance tried to keep from sounding angry as he asked, “What do you mean they turned them loose?”

  Collin shook his head. “When I was hiding, I overheard them say that the boys were in place. I don’t know what it means.”

  “Mona, sweetie, everything’s okay.” Carmen smiled at her daughter in the rearview mirror, and she quieted a little. Carmen’s smile faded. “We drive until morning.”

  Lance reloaded his gun quietly, his eyes scanning the edges of the road. “I have a cabin. It’s not too far, but far enough away from the city to be safer.”

  “What about supplies?” Carmen asked.

  “I’ve been stockpiling since the night her house burnt down.” Lance cut his eyes to Ilene.

  Ilene continued to stroke Mona’s hair to soothe her. “My family’s in the city.”

  “And my mom,” Collin choked.

  “Turn on the radio,” Ilene said. Lance scanned for news reports. A panicked voice burst from the speakers. “This is not a joke. Please, go home. Lock your doors and board your windows. We’re under attack. The city is under attack.” The announcer’s voice drifted from the microphone, but in the background he said, “Oh, God, another one?” The announcer returned. “Another bridge has been leveled. A freeway bridge.” His voice broke. “How is this happening?”

  “Bridges?” Collin cried. “Is this a terrorist attack?”

  Ilene shook as hysterical breaths burst from her mouth. “It’s so much bigger than we knew. This is what we were trying to stop all along.” She looked from face to face. “But we failed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lance said. “We can’t get back to the city. Not tonight.”

  Confrontation

  Both of their faces pale and mouths slightly parted, Nadia and Maxwell watched the door to Lucy’s room shake. Her screams had ended just moments before, and now snarling, bloodthirsty cries filled the air. Maxwell stood nervously and paced toward Alec’s cell. He leaned his head close to the door, listening.

  “Don’t do that,” Nadia snapped, making him jump. “Sorry,” she added with a wry smile. She hugged her arms to her chest. “Jared’s room is quiet too.”

  “I’m fine so far,” Jared announced from within the room. He raised his voice. “Alec?”

  “Good so far,” Alec called back. The sound of their voices sent the werewolf into a mania, slamming against the door.

  “Please don’t do that. The voices seem to make Lucy, um, well, they rile her up,” Maxwell ended diplomatically.

  “Let’s go outside,” Nadia suggested. They followed the short hall to the main hall and through the filthy lobby into the night. Nadia looked around at the woods.
“You’d never know we’re in downtown Detroit.”

  “I know.” Distant sirens made Maxwell smile. “Except for that.” He walked a few steps away, examining the empty cages, when a thought hit him. “How good are your ears?”

  “Good,” Nadia said.

  “Can you hear off the island, like in downtown?”

  Nadia stood still. “Let me see. Be silent.” She closed her eyes, and Maxwell could imagine her act in Las Vegas. She had a certain showmanship. She had the poise of a swami, her eyes closed. Maxwell watched her face tighten in concentration. He fought the urge to speak to break the uncomfortable silence. She finally spoke, “I hear screams.”

  “What?”

  “Shhh.” She cocked her head. “Oh, God, people are screaming everywhere.”

  Maxwell grabbed her arm—and an image flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning. He saw Haley in the alley. He saw her backing away from the werewolf. “Haley,” he whispered.

  “What is it?” Nadia demanded, shaking his hand off her wrist.

  “Haley’s in danger.”

  “What about my mother?”

  “I didn’t see her!” Maxwell trained his ear on the night; more sirens erupted throughout the city. “What are people saying?”

  “Monsters. Werewolves. Beasts. Bears.” She echoed people’s cries. She turned her gaze on Maxwell. “Werewolves are everywhere.” And then she let out a cry, as she noticed the green eyes peering through the mist and trees. “Maxwell?” She whispered.

  And he saw them too. “We need to go back inside.” He tugged her hand as he backed away from the eyes. A powerful warning shot through him, and he imagined it was what it felt like to be electrocuted. Maxwell turned to see a werewolf rushing toward them from behind. He knocked Nadia to the ground as the beast sailed over them. They scrambled to their feet, darting for the building. Maxwell slammed the door shut as they entered, but werewolves launched through the broken windows.

  Maxwell slipped on a clump of fetid leaves as he rushed back to Alec and Jared, just behind Nadia. He launched to his feet, and he could feel the werewolf’s snorting breath at his back as he ran. Nadia stood in the central hallway, poised to slam the metal door shut.

  “Run!” She urged him. In a burst of adrenaline, Maxwell pulled ahead of the werewolf and dived through the door. Nadia slammed it shut and slid the bolt lock into place.

  The short hall rang like the inside of a bell as one werewolf, followed by others, pounded on the metal door. The door shook with the pounding, and Maxwell could see the bolts of the lock twisting loose.

  “What’s going on?” Jared called from inside his room.

  “Werewolves are everywhere,” Maxwell shouted over the pounding and growling. The noise was maddening.

  “Let me out!” Jared yelled.

  Maxwell hesitated only a moment before opening Jared’s door. Jared rushed out, paused just a moment to look at the failing outside door. He hurried to Alec’s door. “Alec?”

  “Yeah? I hear. Let me out.” Jared unlocked Alec’s door, and Alec slid into his arms, planting a kiss on his mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He turned and pointed at Nadia and Maxwell. “We have to protect them.”

  “I know.”

  Jared looked back at the room he came from. “Get in there. We’ll lock you in.”

  “No, we can fight,” Maxwell said. The howling grew more distinct as the door bent inward.

  “There’s no time to argue,” Alec exclaimed over the clamor.

  Maxwell threw his arms around first Alec and then Jared. “Be safe.” He looked at Nadia waiting in the room, and before he entered, he snagged the lithium flashlight from the floor. “I hate the dark.”

  Alec slammed the door closed. And the lock clicked from the outside, echoing in the darkness. Maxwell took deep breaths, his thumb anxiously dancing on the flashlight switch. “Nadia, can you hear what’s going on?” She did not reply, but her breathing seemed labored. “Nadia?”

  Maxwell flipped the flashlight on. The beam cut across the small room. Maxwell angled the light into a back corner, illuminating Nadia’s discarded clothes. His hand shook as he focused the light on the next corner.

  In the wavering beam of his flashlight, Nadia stood naked. A smile parted her mouth, revealing dagger teeth.

  A small cry escaped his lips as she shifted in an instant to a werewolf.

  * * * *

  Mitch drove across the bridge toward Belle Isle, looking again at the stationary blip on his GPS. The tracking device he had placed in Lucy’s gym bag seemed to be paying off. Following the drive around the perimeter of the island, he zoomed in his map to see that he needed to drive a narrow road that cut deeper into the island. Mitch turned onto the road. He grew tense as the woods closed around him. His mind toyed with the idea that Lucy was on to him and that she had been set him up.

  Better safe than sorry, Mitch thought as he placed his Glock 17 on his lap. If anything rushed him, he’d be ready. His headlights cut a lonely swath through the woods, the trees glowing white as he passed them. Just outside the wash of his headlights, a figure sprinted across the road. Mitch hit his brake. He peered into the woods on either side of the car and then checked his rearview mirror. When he returned his eyes to the road before him, a werewolf stood erect, approaching slowly, with its mouth agape.

  Mitch scanned the road before opening the door. He fired two quick shots centered in the werewolf’s head. The shots echoed through the woods like cannon blasts. The werewolf jerked back with the force, and crumbled to the ground with a snarl. Mitch watched as the beast transformed, slowly, back to its human form, a young man, no older than 17. “Shit,” he muttered.

  He heard breathing behind him.

  Mitch spun and ducked as a paw ripped through the car window, spraying glass across the car seat. He fired two shots at close range into the werewolf’s head. The force tossed the werewolf back as blood and fur splattered on Mitch’s chest. The crumpled body twisted and bubbled as the werewolf transformed to a human. Mitch recoiled at the site of another dead teen, and his mind stumbled over the revelation that neither was from the group he had trained with Lucy.

  Growls in the distance drew his attention. Mitch grabbed his bag from his car and slung it over his shoulder. With his gun raised, he trudged through the woods toward the sounds. He stopped as he entered a clearing filled with abandoned zoo cages. A cinderblock building stood in the center. The growling was coming from inside.

  * * * *

  The door to the central hall buckled, and three werewolves tumbled in. Alec and Jared looked at each other bleakly and then turned to face the approaching beasts. With what seemed like a shiver, or a god casting off water, Jared shifted into a werewolf. He was surprised to find that his mind was still his own. He looked out of the corner of his eyes to see Alec change in a blink. Side-by-side, they faced the approaching werewolves.

  Two werewolves launched onto Jared, as the third charged Alec. Anger pumped through Alec as he swiped at the werewolf tackling him; he needed to help Jared who was under the other two. Alec snapped his jaw around the werewolf’s neck and pulled back viciously. The werewolf howled as blood poured from the wound, splattering on the floor and walls. The taste of the blood repulsed Alec, but he bit deeper, not noticing the claws tearing into his own flesh as the werewolf struggled. As Alec bit deeper, the struggling stop, and the werewolf fell limp to the floor. He tossed it aside and stood with a roar.

  * * * *

  His vision had come true.

  Maxwell was trapped in a small room with a werewolf. And the werewolf was Nadia.

  “Nadia?” Maxwell whispered into the darkness, matching the gaze of the beast snarling in the corner. “Nadia, you don’t have to do this.” He spoke evenly, hoping to conceal the fear he was sure she could smell.

  “How?” Maxwell whispered. He recoiled just a step as the door behind him shook from the battle waging outside.

  In less than a blink, th
e werewolf was Nadia again. “Haven’t you guessed?”

  Maxwell shook his head.

  “I’m the Alpha, you moron,” she sneered.

  “This was your plan, all along,” he quavered. “You were never on our side.” His tried to stall for time. “And Helena?”

  “Feasting on Haley’s flesh!” She cackled.

  Maxwell shuddered at the image. She took a step toward him, and Maxwell held his ground, keeping the light aimed at the ground. He twisted the knob on the light, dulling the beam. “But, I don’t, how are you...”

  “One experiment leads to another leads to—me,” she boasted. “Griffin and Vincent are just as expendable as the rest of you.” She smiled. “Nigel Rathborne is my father. And together we’ve overcome the one thing that might stop us.”

  “And that is?”

  Nadia laughed, the sound harsh and carefree. “Not you, little boy.”

  “So is this where I die?” His eyes trailed around the room. Cinderblock walls and a bolted metal door trapped him.

  “You could have joined us.” Nadia took a step toward him.

  “What’s been the point of this?” Maxwell stepped back, and noticed for the first time that the animal door to the outside door was open just a few inches. It looked like he could fit, but he knew he’d never get past Nadia and squeeze through in time. He needed a plan.

  “Genetic superiority.”

  “So I’m a failed experiment?”

  “Not at all. You have the human qualities we sought. We learned how to manipulate DNA and to isolate traits. You are a successful—yet terminated—experiment.” As she smiled, her teeth protruded from her mouth, and her transformation burgeoned like a time-lapse flower bloom. She lunged forward. Maxwell twisted the focus on the flashlight, heightening the beam, and directed it directly into the werewolf’s eyes. It closed its eyes, and shook its head, only momentarily stunned.

  Maxwell charged the werewolf and shoved the flashlight sideways into its mouth. As the werewolf bit down, the lithium battery exploded in its mouth in a cloud of smoke and fire. The beast howled, the angry cry reverberating off the walls, as it tried to spit the flaming flashlight from its mouth, but it was stuck to its canines. The werewolf shook its head in a maddened state.