Wolfen (19 page)

A forest full of converts?

Desiree scoffed. A cakewalk compared to this.

Right. Easy-peasy. Just like that.

She huffed helplessly and turned onto her side, curling in
on herself. She knew how bad it was out there. When getting eaten alive by a
horde of savages was one of the pleasanter things that could happen to you, you
learned to appreciate the comforts of a well-fortified colony. Even if it was
more of a prison, and came part and parcel with an iron fist that liked to hit
all of your weak spots.

Experience had taught Desiree a thing or two about dreaming
too big.

First: Any plan of escape from this place required a
reliable partner in crime—someone who knew the lay of the land within and
without, and had enough experience with guns to make a proper go at it.

Second: Any such partners in crime could not be trusted,
unless you had considerable leverage—which she didn’t. Desiree was useless as
anything other than bait. Havenites knew she had nothing to offer; they’d
sooner leave her behind, than take her along.

Her mother had.

She sighed, and closed her eyes. So much for her grand plan
of escape.

Then again…there was that Wolfen they’d just acquired.

I’m staring at the asshole who has Sinna. He’s going to
die, that’s a given. As soon as I get free. But while I’m focused on him,
someone else is dragging Aiden away. I catch on too late.

When I do, I fade out.

I come to as I’m lunging at a gunman by the metal gate,
gagging on my own blood. The collar must have punctured something. I don’t feel
the damage. I go for his throat and have the satisfaction of seeing him piss
himself before everything fades again.

Next thing I know, I’m on the ground with six men on top
of me, and I wouldn’t give a shit, except I can’t see Sinna. She’s close,
though, and she’s calling for me. I’m supposed to keep her safe.

I roar, and fade out.

A blink later, I’m out in the open, the gate groaning
closed behind me. The collar is gone, but my wrists are still shackled behind
my back. I snap them easily, spit blood on the ground. Sinna’s there. Aiden
isn’t. I look for him, but the mowed-down clearing is empty. Nothing stirs,
until dust starts picking up around my feet. They’re shooting the ground to get
us moving. Sinna cries out and runs.

I fade.

I get back to my senses miles away, running full tilt
along the road to the broken bridge. The mule is there. The tree is still on
the truck bed, keeping my weapons safe. I have just enough mental acuity left
to plan that far ahead.
Get to the mule. Arm up. Fetch Aiden. Kill
everyone.

I hear Sinna calling, but her words have stopped making
sense. She’s lagging behind, and I know I should slow down, but I can’t. I
don’t want her around me when I’m like this; it’s too dangerous.

The tree isn’t just pinning the mule in place, its branches
are tangled up with other trees, and it’s not a quick extraction. The longer it
takes, the more pissed off I get, and the more I lose myself in the darkness…

Fade.

I don’t hear the tree fall aside. I feel the vibration
through my skin. I don’t see myself clawing the compartments for my weapons,
but I hear the scraping of my claws on metal.

Then I scent something off, and I slow down, come back to
myself enough to classify it. Human stench. I react without thinking, charge
the slimy brown fuck behind the tree.

Pop—pop—pop.

My chest burns. I look down to see blood pouring from my
body. Incensed beyond reason, I charge again.

A bullet to the head turns my lights out.

I come to in a haze. Before I’ve even opened my eyes, I
know something’s very wrong. I smell fear. I hear noises that turn into choked
cries…and then words.

“…big boss can suck it. Fuck him and fuck the rest of
them, too. Can’t have the female? Oh, you better believe I’m getting me a piece
of this…”

I turn. Sinna’s pinned on the ground, the slimy,
disgusting human between her legs. She’s fighting, but she’s no match for him.
I can smell his arousal. Her resistance excites him. He has her wrists bound, a
hand shoved against her mouth to keep her quiet, and he’s groping at his pants
to unzip.

I sit up and almost pass out again as the world spins out
of control. He doesn’t know I’m still alive. I can smell his rank breath all
the way over here, and it makes me sick. I have to wait while my head settles,
but I never take my eyes off of him.

Come on, get up! Get the fuck up right now and help her!

She’s ours—Aiden’s and mine. Pack. And she’s counting on
me. Can’t let her down.

Sinna thrashes under him, kicking out desperately. She
has no leverage.

But she can do
something.
She bites.

The human screams, and I smell blood. “You bitch!”

That’s my girl.
Despite the animosity which rises more
with each little bit of control I regain, I smile.

Then the human pulls back and slaps her as hard as he can
manage.

I fade out completely.

~

A soft, flying projectile slammed into Bryce, tethers
looping around his neck. His claws furled out to tear it off, when its scent
registered. He shook his head, and sucked in a deep breath to make sure. His
mind cleared in slow degrees, senses reconnecting to his brain one by one. It
was Sinna. Trembling against him. The ringing in his ears quieted enough for
him to make out her ranting babbles, and he moved to embrace her.

But the sight of blood coating his hands and arms stopped
him. Bryce blinked at them, looked around, then shuddered. Body parts and gore
littered the ground. Half of a man’s head was propped against a tree, and from
its warped shape, he could tell the other half had been smashed inward. A leg
hung by its knee joint from a nearby branch, entrails tied around the trunk. A
ribcage torn open like a hunting trap lay several feet away, emptied of all
organs.

Bryce squeezed his eyes shut.

What have I done?

“…they’ll come looking for him. We have to go…”

Bryce’s hands curled into fists. “Sinna.”

She quieted. After a moment, she pulled back a bit. Her
cheek and eye were bruising, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m fine,” she
said firmly. “Nothing happened.”

Nothing?

She huffed, then shook her head as if annoyed with herself.
Wiped her face, and cupped his cheek, searching his gaze. “Are you okay?” Hazel
eyes glowed with concern. For him? “Are you with me?”

Bryce nodded. He didn’t know what to say. Sinna was smeared
with blood, but none of it was hers. She’d come away unscathed.
How?

Sinna took his hand and stood, pulling him to his feet. “We
need to go. It’s getting late, and the silence is freaking me out.”

Bryce gauged the time from the sun’s position. They had
about two hours of light left. Evening creatures should have been coming out by
now. Birds returning to their nests, squirrels and woodpeckers in the trees,
insects flying around. There was nothing. Just dead silence.

“Is the mule fixable?”

Still somewhat out of it, Bryce focused on the mule and
tried to make his brain work faster. The paint job was shot to hell; they’d
need every second of sunlight to power up the batteries. Dents and scratches on
the truck bed were minor damages. What worried him more was the broken glass.
One less barrier between them and the outside world. All the weapons within
easy sight were gone. They’d need to make do with whatever had survived in the
compartments.

Bryce opened them, one by one. Some blades, a collapsible
bow, and one handgun. It wasn’t much. He armed up, and gave a couple of blades
and a gun to Sinna. This time, she hesitated for only a moment before she
strapped on the belt and weapons.

Satisfied she wouldn’t be putting them down like before,
Bryce nodded his approval and went around to check inside the cabin. It was a
mess. The back window had been broken; glass and leaves covered the floor and
seats. He had to clear it all out to see the damage. The humans had taken
anything that hadn’t been nailed down: weapons, food, water, containers, tools,
even the dashboard hula doll Aiden had hidden in the side compartment where
he’d thought Bryce wouldn’t find it.

Bryce combed through every inch of the mule, hoping they’d
overlooked something. He found a single, half-empty bag stuffed at the back of
a storage compartment. Inside was an old shirt, a water canteen, and three
protein bars reduced to crumbles in their packaging.

That was it. The full extent of their provisions.

“The tires look okay,” Sinna said. “Try turning on the
engine.”

Bryce sat behind the wheel. They’d scratched the dashboard to
shit trying to start the engine. Not for the first time, he was grateful for
the scientific paranoia that had led their tech guys to design this ignition
mechanism. Bryce cranked the handbrake while pumping the gas pedal five times
in rapid succession, then hit the center of the steering wheel. There was a
very specific rhythm to the routine, and he didn’t hit it on the first go.
Unwilling to be stranded in this place without conveyance, he tried again.
Brake. Pedal. Wheel.

The battery gauge lit up to half charged. “It’s alive.”

“Thank God.” Sinna got in on the passenger side. “If we
hurry, we can get a decent distance south before nightfall. We pretty much have
the path trekked out already, so it should be easy going—”

“We’re not going south,” Bryce said, carefully backing the
mule out of the ditch and onto the road. There, facing away from the human
compound, he stopped.

Sinna stared at him. “What do you mean? We have to go get
that girl to trade for Aiden.”

My turn now, brother. I’ve got this.

Damn you.
“We’re going north.” Aiden would expect
them to go home, get Sinna to safety, then come back with reinforcements and
bust his ass out. Raze Haven to the ground, if need be.

So that was the plan. They would go north.

“You can’t mean that!”

Bryce put the mule in gear.

“Bryce, he’s your brother, you can’t just leave him there.”

He said nothing.

“Look, how far is it back to Gilroy?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Humor me.”

He did some rapid calculations in his head. “About three
days’ hard driving to get there, give or take.”

“And how far to Montana?”

“About the same.”

“Then what difference will it make?”

“It’s what Aiden wants.”

“Bullshit,” Sinna snapped.

Bryce stopped the mule. “You want to go to Gilroy, kidnap
some girl who probably has no idea what’s going on, and drag her back to that
German psycho to be used as a guinea pig? Because that’s what will happen—”

“Who cares about her, if it gets Aiden back!”

“—and we might
never
get Aiden back!”

They stared each other down until Sinna’s eyes widened and
her mouth opened in a little O as she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean
that,” she whispered.

“Yes, you did.” And he was damned proud of her for it.

“No, I… I didn’t even think about it. I just—”

“You put your pack first.” He shrugged. It was a matter of
fact for him. But then, it had been part of his nature all of his life. Sinna
was still adapting to her changes, a process that necessitated the breakdown of
everything she’d ever known up to this point. But that would take
time—something they didn’t have right now.

Bryce turned back to get the mule going again, but Sinna
laid her hand over his on the steering wheel. “Is that what life is out here?
Us against them?” She looked so lost, so small and afraid.

“No,” he said. “It’s us against everything else.”

Her eyes dimmed with sadness for a moment, before she
rebounded. “But what if the Gilroy people are different?”

“
People
are all the same.”

“How can you know that? Have you met every single person on
Earth?”

Bryce huffed. This was getting them nowhere. He eased off
the brake, got the mule going again. The scent of blood kept him on a dangerous
edge, and he was in no shape to carry on a pointless argument over the merits
of the human race. He needed to wash up, get rid of the evidence, and clear his
head.

“We shouldn’t have separated,” Sinna said softly.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

“I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean it.”

Bryce grunted.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence after that. Bryce
took it easy on the way back west to spare the batteries. Much of what had
happened in Haven earlier was a blur, but he remembered mention of an awful lot
of converts hanging around these parts, ones who were attracted to Wolfen
pheromones, not repelled by them.
Good going, Klaus. You sick Nazi fuckhead.
They’d need to keep driving through the night, even if it was at a snail’s
pace. It’d be safer than stopping to make camp.

Sinna fiddled with her silver cuff, reminding Bryce his own
had been taken. He felt the silver’s absence like an exposed wound. It made him
raw, much too alert to every small rustle, every twitch of a branch in the
wind. The feeling only worsened when he found an intersection and turned north
onto a service road.

The front side windows were cracked, but had somehow managed
to survive the crash. Bryce cranked open the one on his side and stuck his head
out to scent the air. Forest, moist earth, and moss. Water nearby. If that
dried-out creek near Haven was a branch off of a bigger stream, they could be
nearing a possible bathing spot. He kept going, eyes and ears peeled.

If he’d kept the window closed, he would have missed it.

The scent was subtle; a soft undertone of unnatural rot and
decay. He stopped the truck and sniffed.

“What’s wrong?”

Bryce held his hand up to silence her. The blood messed with
his senses. He couldn’t get a bead on the source, but he sure as hell
recognized a convert hive when he smelled one. At that concentration, it should
have been visible already. That it wasn’t told Bryce the hive was a distance
away, but densely populated.

He straightened and closed the window, debating.

Could they risk it?

The mule could haul ass, but not through wooded terrain, and
certainly not on half power so close to nightfall. Darkness was convert hunting
time. Bryce and Sinna had no cover and not enough protection to hold off so
many. Fire would attract them—hell, the blood was probably attracting them
already.

“I don’t like this,” Sinna whispered.

He didn’t, either.

“Can we take another road?”

And turn back south for who knew how long? Maybe if they headed
east, off road, they could drive into the creek bed. It was almost empty,
anyway. Good as any road, and lower than the surrounding land, which would mean
more cover. It was a feasible option if—