Werewolf Suspense (Book 1): Outage (11 page)

The SUV hummed over the roadway as it picked up speed.

Abby kept her eyes glued to the trees, her eyes skimming the dark, snow-laden branches. Town was only a few miles away. Soon they'd reach it, and soon they'd find help. There had to be other people out there, people who could assist them. As awful and unbelievable as the whole night had been, there had to be safety somewhere.

They'd only gone a half-mile when the windshield wipers stalled again.
 

"Dammit!" Tom swore, his voice cracked and broken.

He hit the lever, turning the wipers on and off again, and finally got them moving.

"That's better," he murmured.

He sighed and returned his hands to the steering wheel. The wipers cast the snow aside, clearing the pane. When the windshield came clean, all three of them froze.

Something was standing in the road in front of them.

Lorena began to scream.

Tom hit the brakes, and the vehicle swerved. The headlights glanced off the shape in the road, giving it a split second of illumination. Abby saw a host of familiar features: a protruding nose, jagged fingernails, and a mouth opened into a roar. In the middle of the creature's chest was a blood-encrusted wound.

A remnant from when she'd shot it.

She fished for her gun, bracing herself with one hand on the back of the driver's seat. The SUV had lost traction, and it spun soundlessly in the night, unable to find purchase. The headlights speared the landscape—illuminating trees, then road, then beast. When the car finally stopped, Abby's pulse spiked.
 

The creature was bounding toward them.
 

Tom let go of the steering wheel and lunged for his rifle. Before he could reach it, the thing landed on the hood and started pounding on the glass. One of the headlights went out, pitching the road into further darkness and obscuring the creature's form. The windshield spiderwebbed under furred hands.

Abby retrieved her gun. She tried pointing it over the headrest, but Tom was in the way, and he cried out as she bumped into him. Lorena was still screaming, and the sound filled the interior of the car. Something keened below them. It took Abby a moment to realize it was the sound of tires, spinning without traction.

She stared at the door next to her, unsure whether to stay inside or get out. Both decisions reeked of danger and death, and neither screamed out as the solution. Before she could act, she heard the click of a lock, and Lorena flung open her door and stumbled out into the night.

"No!" Abby screamed.

But she was too late. The woman was still shrieking, and she fled through the snow and out of sight. Wind whipped through the open door, catching Abby in its draft. In the front seat, Tom had recovered his rifle, and he aimed it at the creature on the windshield. He fired off a round, punching a hole in the glass, but not before the beast leapt from sight, climbing over the hood of the car and after Lorena.

"Lorena!" Tom screeched, his face a frightened mess.

Pieces of glass cascaded in from the windshield. The car was compromised.

The only thing left was to get out.

Tom ripped at the driver's side door handle, muttering words that Abby couldn't understand. She glanced behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lorena and the creature, but she could see little in the darkness. Rather than depart through the open door, she unlocked her own and pitched it open, stepping back out into the cold.

She aimed her gun in front of her, uncertain whether she had bullets, uncertain whether it would fire. Her luck had held out once, but she had little confidence that it would continue.
 

Tom exited behind her. He swung the rifle in front of him, frantic, staring past Abby. They surveyed the white landscape, but the road was empty. Somewhere off to their right, deep in the forest, they heard screams.

"I'm going after her!" Tom huffed, his breath white and visible.

"I'm coming, too!"

Despite Abby's weakened state, the prospect of leaving these people alone—especially after they'd helped her—didn't seem right. Tom didn't argue, and before she knew it, they were traipsing into the woods in the direction of the screams.
 

The snow in the forest was thicker than on the road. Whether it was the underbrush or the drifts, Abby wasn't sure, but the powder was well past her knees. She forged ahead, ignoring the bite in her legs and skin, knowing this might be her final journey. Even if she got out of this—even if she didn't die from frostbite or pneumonia or blood loss—her prospect of survival was slim.

If these things were everywhere, there'd be no escaping them.

She gritted her teeth and tried to focus.

"Lorena!" Tom shouted, the word echoing through the tree trunks.

Lorena continued to scream, but her words were indecipherable. In spite of that, it sounded like Tom and Abby were getting closer. Had the creature caught up with her? Abby could only imagine the beast had had no trouble narrowing the gap. From everything she'd seen, the thing was fast—the snow wouldn't have proved an issue.

Tom and Abby stumbled on, following the tracks in the snow through the somber light of the sky. She could hear the ragged breathing of the man next to her, but neither of them spoke. It was as if breath were their only commodity, and neither wanted to waste it.

She looked over her shoulder. Abby could still see the one working headlight of the car, shining into the woods without purpose or direction. Since they'd entered the forest, the landscape seemed to have grown darker. With each passing step, it felt like the tree limbs were reaching down to them, ready to pluck them from the ground.
 

Abby swiveled her attention to the foreground. It took her a moment to realize Lorena's cries had stopped.
 

"Lorena!" Tom yelled.
 

Tom stopped in the snow, scanning the trees in all directions, and Abby pointed her pistol at the shadows.

"Where the hell is she?" Tom screamed. He swiveled his head in panic. "Lorena! Answer me, dammit! Where are you?"

Abby felt a sense of helplessness creep over her. It was the same feeling she'd had earlier, when she'd found Rob's body ripped apart. It was as if the world around them had swooped in, tightening a noose around their necks, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.
 

All they could do was wait for the end.

A noise rang out from their left, and Abby and Tom spun, shifting their aim to a patch of trees. The forest creaked and swayed; several branches shed their snow. Abby watched as the white powder filtered to the ground. There was no sign of the beast. No sign of Lorena.
 

But the sound had to have come from somewhere.
 

She glanced over at Tom. The rifle bobbed up and down in his grasp.
 

"Lorena!" he screamed, his cries more desperate by the second.
 

He waved the rifle at the trees, as if demanding an answer. Abby's teeth chattered. The cold bit at her skin, working its way into every nook and orifice. Now that they'd stopped moving, she had one less thing to distract her, and the pain in her leg had intensified.

Her leg felt like it was burning.

She glanced down at her calf, but could only see the outline of the makeshift bandage Lorena had applied for her. Without treatment, the injury would get worse. But there was nothing she could do at the moment.

"Let's head that way," Tom said, beckoning to the trees where the noise had originated.

He took a step forward, and Abby followed. They'd only gone a few feet when something flew through the air.

The object landed with a
thud
about five feet in front of them, and Abby screamed.

Tom stumbled backward.

It took them only a second to determine what it was.

Lorena's mangled body lay in front of them in the snow. Her head hung like a dovetail joint, nearly twisted from her neck. Her chest cavity had been flayed open, and several ribs spilled from inside.

"No!" Tom fell to his knees beside her, his body wracked with sobs.
 

Abby's pulse climbed. She pointed the gun through the trees, waiting for the beast to emerge. Every shadow appeared to be moving, and her eyes flitted from one shape to the next, waiting for something to stick out.

The forest had taken on an eerie silence, as if the world had stopped breathing.

Suddenly a pair of glowing eyes appeared in front of them. She saw the creature gliding toward them, its oversized limbs crunching snow. She squeezed off a shot from her pistol, but the shot went wide. She fired again, but missed. The beast continued, unfazed.

Tom sprang to his feet and aimed his rifle.

She heard a grunt as he squeezed the trigger, then the explosion of the gunshot. This time the beast reeled backward. Tom had struck his mark, but the creature kept coming, shaking the wound off like a bee sting. It was only a hundred yards away. Closing fast.

Abby struggled to aim her pistol, but her grip faltered. Her head was starting to pound, and she felt dizzy and hot. Sweat leaked from her brow. The world around her was spiraling out of control, and she was caught in the tempest.

Was she in shock? Dying?

Her leg pulsed, radiating heat. She tried to cry out, but her tongue didn't seem to work. She heard several more gunshots from Tom's rifle.

Through the haze, she saw the beast sway. A few of the bullets connected, slowing it down, but it refused to stop. She tried to aim her pistol, but couldn't.

The gun slipped from Abby's hand. Her ears were ringing, and she clasped her hands over her head, trying to plug the noise.

The creature was only feet away from Tom. She saw him thrust the tip of the rifle at its head and fire another shot.
 

Pain rippled through her head like a migraine.
 

She fell to her knees and clutched her temples. Another gunshot. Another burst of pain. She called out for Tom, but he didn't answer. The world had gone black, and she couldn't see.

All at once, the forest was quiet.
 

The pain subsided. Abby could hear herself breathing again, her lungs gasping for air. She opened her eyes and unfurled her hands from her head. Tom was standing a few feet away, clutching the rifle. He was staring at her.

"Are you OK, Abby?"

"I-I think so." She nodded.

She followed his gaze to the beast, which had fallen to the ground in front of him. The creature looked smaller than it had before. She stared at the shadow for several seconds before determining the difference.

It wasn't the beast anymore, but a man. The man began to stir.

Tom circled around it, pointing the rifle.

"Stay the fuck down!" he ordered.
 

The man sat up, clenching his head in his hands. His clothing was almost nonexistent; his body was littered with wounds. When he removed his hands from his face, Abby let out a gasp.

"Rob?"

"Abby?"

Her husband pushed himself off the ground, staggering to his feet. Tom stepped back in the snow, still pointing the rifle.

"Who the hell is this?"

"My husband! Don't shoot!"

Abby regained her footing and took a step toward him, but her eyes stopped when she caught a glimpse of his face. The man standing before her was her husband, but his face was still wrong. Fur still clung in patches to his face, and his ears jutted off his head.
 

"Rob? I-I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I saw your body…"

Rob wavered from side to side. She saw a glimmer of jagged teeth in his mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was low and guttural.

"That wasn't me, Abs," he said.

The image of the body flashed in front of her. She pictured the mutilated remains in the Pierces' backyard—clothes gone, body ripped to pieces. At the time, she'd been certain it was her husband. But now she realized it couldn't have been.

"Who was it, then?" she whispered.

"Our new neighbor."

"From the end of the road?"

He nodded.

"But I thought something was wrong with him…he wasn't moving…he wouldn't wave…"

"He was in shock. He'd already seen one of us feeding."
 

That meant Rob had—

"Y-you killed him. You killed Leon and Adeline…"

Tom sprang from the shadows, jabbing his rifle at Rob's head.

"And you killed Lorena! You son of a bitch!"

Rob bowed his head, refusing to meet the man's gaze. Abby stared at her husband, still in shock. Was he sick? Diseased? Maybe this wasn't his fault. Maybe something had taken hold of him that he couldn't control, and he was as much a victim as anyone else. There had to be an explanation…
 

"What's going on, Rob? What happened?"

"This is the Great Storm, Abs. The one we've been waiting for."

"The one who's been waiting for?"

"Us. All of us."

He lifted his hands in the air. Something howled in the distance, and Abby's hands tightened on the pistol. She looked over at Tom just in time to see him squeeze the trigger of the rifle. Her heart crashed in her chest.

The gun clicked, empty.

"Goddamit!" Tom yelled. He backed away, losing his grip on the rifle.

"What the hell are you?" Abby whispered, tears streaking her face.

"I'm what I'm supposed to be. The same thing you'll be soon."

Rob's head cocked to the side, studying her. She followed his red eyes down to the wound on her leg. The wound he'd given her. He bared his teeth.
 

"I told you I'd always take care of you, Abs. And I meant it."

"No," she whispered.

"Why do you think we moved up north? We made it just in time."

She pictured the beast chasing her through the neighborhood. She'd always been one step ahead, one step from death. But only because he'd
allowed
it. He'd wanted her alive. He'd wanted to
change
her.