03-Strength of the Mate (45 page)

Adam swore he heard a diesel engine. He froze, tuning all of his senses toward the outside world. If his kidnappers were coming to move him again, Adam was fucked. His heart raced. It felt like a hot stone settled in the pit of his stomach.

He bent to look through the opening he’d created. It looked like the mud wall that ran along the right side of this structure kept going another few hundred yards. Adam could see a gravel road running in front of the building and past the end of the mud wall. He thought he saw some sort of crop field on the other side of the road. Adam’s laugh had an edge of hysteria. Crops meant people, instead of endless stretches of barren desert.

The steady rattle of the diesel engine got louder. Shit. Even if the car just passed by, the werewolves were gonna come out to check the source of the noise. Adam was screwed. His skin prickled, his hands and feet tingled. He had to get the water bottles back inside and close the fucking door before he got caught.

The engine was louder. That was way more engine than a small car needed. This engine was large, powerful, and sounded like it was idling. Adam frowned when the engine’s timing slipped, but that wasn’t possible. No. No, there were two engines! The only reason multiple large, diesel engines rolled down Iraqi roads at a walking pace, was for troop patrols.

Adam had to get the fuck out of this room before the Marines passed him by, and the werewolves got between him and the patrol. He threw his weight into the door, prying it wider with the metal bar. He levered the door with the frame segment, pushing with his shoulder, widening it even more.

It had to be enough. Adam slid his arms out first, squirming across the dirt floor. He shimmied his shoulders again, pushing with his knees and toes. He struggled to fit himself through the opening. Maybe if he got his elbows underneath himself, he’d have more leverage.

The engines were close now. They sounded like they were about to appear from around the end of the mud brick wall. Adam’s forearms and elbows were scratched and bleeding, the wounds stung and burned. His sides were getting bruised on the unforgiving door and its frame. Shit.

Wriggling back inside the room, Adam rolled onto his side. Leading with his arms again, he pushed with his heels. If he could get his chest through, he was pretty sure he’d be home free.

A uniformed Marine carrying an M16 appeared around the end of the wall, just like Adam had predicted. He wanted to shout to get the Marine’s attention. That was useless, though. The Humvee engines were too loud.

Adam’s blood ran cold when the first wolf barked. If they didn’t know exactly what was up, they were at least aware something wasn’t right. They were inbound from behind the structure, at a distance. They were already barking aggressively.

With a mighty shove of his legs, Adam made it through the gap and into the outside world. His T-shirt tore. His back and chest were bruised and cut, but none of that mattered. Several Marines were in the road now, walking along beside a Humvee.

The wolves were close, now. There were several of them, all barking fiercely. Adam had to get close enough to the patrol for them to see he was American. He needed the Marines to stop the wolves before they brought him down. He was close. Adam was so fucking close, it couldn’t go wrong now.

Getting to his feet, Adam ran. He knew he didn’t look American, but he also didn’t exactly look like an Iraqi. His beard didn’t help.

“Help me! I’m American! I’m an American citizen taken prisoner! Help me!” Adam yelled in English, hoping for a small amount of luck.

He ran as fast as he legs would move. Adam waved his arms, keeping his fingers spread so the Marines could see he didn’t have any weapons. His T-shirt rode up to show there was nothing in his waistband. Adam heard the wolves behind him, getting closer. He shouted as loud as he could, “I’m American! American citizen! I need help! American citizen!”

He ran directly toward one of the Marines. There were wolves behind Adam, barking and snarling. They were still gaining on him. Even if only one wolf caught him, the others would be on him in seconds.

One of the Marines finally saw him. Adam wanted to jump for joy, and shout in triumph. But he wasn’t safe yet, he had to keep running. The Marine sighted down the barrel of his weapon, calling out to the others. Several more Marines rushed forward, weapons raised. One shouted orders at the rest of the patrol. His commands were accompanied by emphatic hand signals.

Adam saw a gun truck now. The vehicles all came to a stop, and Adam finally had hope he might make it out of this. But the barking wolves were right on his heels. They’d be on him in moments, and the Marines weren’t shooting them. If a wolf got a hold of him, Adam wasn’t going to make it. What were the Marines waiting for?

A giant wolf leapt from the rear of the gun truck. Two more wolves emerged immediately after. Each one hit the ground at a run, heading right for Adam. More and more wolves appeared from inside the truck, all heading right for him.

Something massive hit Adam square in the back. He flew several feet through the air, slamming into the ground, hard. The impact forced a pained grunt from his throat, along with all the air in his lungs. Adam tumbled a few times, finally landing sprawled out on his back.

The air was full of enraged wolf growls and snarls. Adam stared up at the bright sky. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t get any part of his body moving. Adam’s whole body ached. The sky spun dizzyingly, so he squeezed his eyes shut.

He thought he heard human voices yelling. He opened his eyes to see the sky suddenly obliterated by the giant head of a tan wolf. The sun behind him gave the animal a golden halo. The wolf straddled Adam, face contorted with an aggressive snarl.

Adam knew he was going to die.

A mass of dark colors passed across his vision. Hostile growls filled the air. Adam had a clear view of the sky again. He still couldn’t get any air into his lungs. His body still ached, but it seemed centered in his chest and back. Adam had to get away from the wolves. He had to reach the Marines’ Humvees, before they left.

He’d started to roll onto his side, when a large dark brindle wolf appeared above him. Reflexively, Adam reached up to push the animal off of him, and his hand encountered fabric. He was no match for this strong animal, but Adam was gonna go down fighting. The wolf crouched over him, snarling ferociously at something above Adam’s head.

The brutal sounds of wolves in combat surrounded him. A large tan wolf appeared beside them, growling fiercely. Adam expected the dark brindle wolf above him to attack, but instead, he crouched even lower.

A light brindle wolf wearing a black vest appeared from out of nowhere. It slammed hard into the side of the menacing tan wolf. The impact of their bodies carried over the sounds of fighting wolves. The tan wolf got knocked clear off his paws. He landed hard, several feet away, sending up a plume of dust. The wolf above him crouched low, like he was trying to block Adam from sight. He swung his head back and forth constantly, like he needed to keep all the other wolves in view.

The muscles in Adam’s chest finally relaxed just enough for him to drag in a small, desperate breath. Why didn’t the wolf above him join in the fights? He looked like he was big and strong. Adam got two more breaths into his lungs. Looking up, he saw the coarse black fabric of a wolf’s body armor. Adam inhaled a full breath, his chest relaxing a little bit more. Multi-hued, thick fur spilled out around the edges of the armored vest.

Movement from the corner of his eye captured Adam’s attention. He turned to see how close he was to getting caught up in a wolf fight. The light brindle wolf was a massive beast. His head dwarfed the tan wolf’s. His neck was thick, his chest unusually broad. His jaws were covered in blood. He looked like he was born and bred to be a fighter.

Adam had seen that wolf before. He knew that wolf. He should know that wolf’s name. Greedily sucking more air into his chest, Adam recognized Terrell Hubbard. He looked up at the wolf that was crouched above him. Adam buried his fingers in the thick fur of the side of the wolf’s neck. His heart slammed against his ribs as he recognized his fierce protector. Adam gripped the dark fur in his hand.

“Dawson,” he managed to croak from his dry throat. Adam threaded the fingers of both hands in the thick fur of Dawson’s muscular neck. “Oh Jesus, Dawson,” he whispered, joy and relief leaving him weak and teary-eyed.

They were surrounded by the sounds of a raging wolf battle. Vicious growls and snarls mixed with whines of distress and yelps of pain. They all kicked up dust and dirt. A cloud of dust swirled all around them. Adam coughed, blinking to clear grit from his eyes. Cautiously, he rolled onto his right side. Everywhere he looked, huge wolves wearing black vests relentlessly attacked smaller, sand-colored wolves. The larger Marine wolves were all spattered with blood. Some of the desert wolves tried to flee. None were allowed to get away.

Adam watched Hubbard pin a desert wolf on its back. Terrell bit down on the other wolf’s throat. He lifted the desert wolf off the ground, using the power in his enormous neck to shake it like a flimsy doll. Hubbard’s long teeth, set in his massive jaws, ripped into the desert wolf’s flesh. Blood was cast off the limp body of the wolf, splashing onto all of the combatants.

A desert wolf appeared from nowhere, attacking a gray-colored wolf from the side. The gray wolf was already engaged in a fight with one of the desert wolves. He stayed focused on the wolf in front of him, even when the desert wolf bit his shoulder. Terrell opened his mouth, and dropped the tan wolf’s limp body to the ground. He charged across the short distance that separated him from the gray wolf, slamming into the second desert wolf.

Hubbard impacted the smaller, tan wolf with a dull thud. The desert wolf landed several feet away. Before it could get to its feet, Terrell stood over it, snapping at its throat. Adam jumped when Dawson suddenly snarled viciously at a desert wolf stalking them from the left. The tan wolf gathered itself, ready to leap onto Dawson. Adam gasped in surprise when the desert wolf’s attack was stopped in mid-air. Hubbard’s chest connected with the desert wolf’s shoulder, sending him skidding across the sand.

A tan wolf attacked Hubbard’s flank. He spun around, snapping at the wolf’s neck. The desert wolf Terrell had sent rolling into the dirt charged toward the two. It reared onto its hind legs, trying to sink its teeth into Terrell’s shoulder. Hubbard turned his head and chased the second wolf back. He turned back to the first desert wolf, biting into its lower belly. He jerked his head upward, ripping his teeth through the tender flesh. Dismissing his dying opponent, Hubbard turned in time to catch the second wolf’s new attack. He bit into the desert wolf’s throat. Terrell stood up on his hind legs, shaking his head back and forth.

He opened his mouth, letting the dying wolf fall to the ground. Terrell left the desert wolf bleeding into the sand.

The heavy-bodied gray wolf was nearby, fighting off a desert wolf’s attempts to bite his throat. His muzzle and neck were bloody, but he didn’t look taxed by his fight. Adam recognized the dark saddle on the wolf’s back. It was Paul Mercer.

Dawson snarled like he’d gone rabid. Adam felt him tense, like he was ready to attack. A streak of red fur raced by them, on the right. Adam watched a tall, lean, red-colored wolf intercept a desert wolf that was only a few feet away. There were a lot of red wolves in the Marine Corps, but only one was this tall and gangly. It had to be Jason.

Adam thought he saw Borovec chasing down a small, sand-colored wolf. Dawson still stood guard over him, looking ready to either kill or die, whichever was necessary. A lot of desert wolves were lying on the ground, dead. The Marines had taken care of business. Adam was starting to feel safe again.

“Gunny Rivers,” someone called as he approached them from behind. “It’s me, Gunny. Comin’ up on your six.”

Sergeant Brandt appeared. He had his M16 ready as he knelt beside them. Dawson still hovered over Adam, but he didn’t show any aggression toward the Sergeant.

“Madison, is that you?” Brandt asked. He glanced at Adam briefly, but kept monitoring the carnage around them. “The way the Gunny’s acting, it’s gotta be you.”

“It’s me, Sergeant,” Adam shouted over the sounds of the raging wolf fights. He extended his hand from beneath Dawson, giving Brandt a thumbs up.

“We gotta get you to cover,” said Brandt. “I saw you runnin’, so I assume you can walk. I’m gonna get you back to the truck. Gunny Rivers, you watch our six.”

Dawson took several steps forward, giving Adam room to get to his feet. Brandt put his shoulder under Adam’s arm and helped him stand. The sergeant kept his M16 ready as he damn near dragged Adam toward the Humvees.

They reached a line of Marines who were firing in the direction of the structure behind them. Shit. They were in the middle of a gun battle, too. Adam was damn happy Dawson was at his back.

When they passed, the line of Marines collapsed, withdrawing to the vehicles along with them. They reached a second line of Marines at the edge of the road. Brandt steered Adam toward the gun truck.

Sergeant Brandt shoved Adam up and into the rear of the truck. Doc Marchesi grabbed Adam around the chest and hauled him in.

“It is quite a pleasure to see you, Mr. Madison,” Doc said with a wide grin. He helped Adam onto a makeshift bedroll.

“You have no idea how fucking fantastic it is to see you guys again,” he said with grateful enthusiasm. Adam sat down on the blankets, and looked around for Dawson.

Lieutenant Wilkins appeared at the rear of the truck. “Mr. Madison, there are a hell of a lot of people who are gonna piss themselves with excitement to see you again. Especially looking as good as you do.”

“I think it goes without saying that I couldn’t be happier to see you guys again.” Adam was aware that Doc was organizing his supplies and wanted to look him over. He wasn’t going to cooperate until he knew where Dawson had gone.

“We got some clean up to do here,” the lieutenant said. “We’ve got some bodies to collect—all bad guys—and we wanna document that structure you were held in. After that, we’ll get you back to Camp Fallujah.”