Blood Moon (10 page)

Attacking them was also out of the question. The men were well trained and maintained a set distance of about three meters behind them, spread out in a loose semicircular formation. Daniel could probably close the distance and kill one of them before the rest opened fire. Michael
might
be able to, but she had no way of knowing how badly the drugs they’d been pumping into him had affected his reactions. The adrenaline would be wearing off now, and her brother had never been on the field teams. Despite being silver immune and possessing his lycanthropic gift, Michael was nowhere near as efficient a killer as Daniel or herself. She cursed Stephen Wilkinson again. Six weeks ago, she could have taken these soldiers out without breaking a sweat. Now, in her maimed, weakened,
human
, state, she’d be lucky to beat one of them in a fair fight. Not that fighting fair was ever high on her list of priorities.

As they drew closer to the row of buildings, she began to make out the details. Heavy steel roller-doors opened up to reveal the cavernous interior. The rumble of an idling engine and the smell of diesel fumes reached her. The building was the base’s motor transport section, and somehow she doubted that they’d simply be loaded aboard a standard troop carrier once they reached the garage. An armoured prisoner transport vehicle would be more likely. Once they were secured inside of that, the chances of escape reduced to pretty much nothing. She glanced at Daniel and he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. He understood what was about to happen, and knew that if they were going to act, they had to do it now. Marie tensed her muscles in preparation and visualised what she was going to do next. A feigned stumble, a roll beneath the firing arc of the weapons. Get in close and kill without hesitation or mercy. Her eyes flicked to Daniel one last time. The German’s nostrils flared and he slowly shook his head. His body language was clear. He’d caught a scent on the breeze. Something that had made him revise their attack strategy. Marie felt a momentary confusion as to what would make him change his mind. A second later, a long, mournful howl echoing out from the swirling fog answered her question. John.

The soldier’s reaction was instantaneous. Cries of “Stand to,” rang out, and while two of them kept their weapons trained on their prisoners, the remainder of the squad brought their weapons up to their shoulders and scanned the darkness for the new threat. Colonel Richards held a 9mm Browning semi-automatic pistol in a two handed grip, a sheen of sweat visible across his forehead and a look of barely contained panic on his face. He momentarily caught Marie’s eyes, and she took great pleasure in slowly curling her lips into a smile.

The Colonel grabbed her and pressed the barrel of his pistol against her temple. “How many more are out there? Tell me, or I’ll blow your brains all over the road.”

Marie didn’t flinch and kept right on smiling. “Enough. More than enough. You and your men were dead the second you set foot outside of that building.”

A dark shape darted between two trees. One of the soldiers screamed “Contact!” and opened up with his rifle, filling the empty air with 5.56mm rounds. Another one followed suit before their squad leader, an older man wearing sergeant’s stripes, yelled at them to hold their fire and check their targets.

Another howl rang out, reverberating between the buildings. Even without enhanced senses, Marie could almost smell the terror emanating from the soldiers. Colonel Richards removed the pistol from her head and cast quick, nervous glances around him. Marie looked across to Daniel and Michael and saw clouds of steam begin to rise from them as they brought their wolves close to the surface of their minds. Daniel’s eyes had already become flat, phosphorescent discs, and she could smell an unmistakable animal musk emanating from the two men.

The sergeant, to his credit, seemed to recognise the signs of rising panic in his men and took steps to take control of the situation. “Right, you lot. Form up and get ready to move. We are heading to the MT section as planned. Double time it. Weapons free, but for fucks sake, check your targets. Dobson, I’m talking to you. Now, move out.”

The soldiers closed ranks and took on a defensive formation before moving as one towards the open roller doors. Marie, Daniel and Michael were ushered forward at gunpoint, their captors so far failing to recognise the signs of Daniel and Michael’s imminent transformations. They’d made it almost halfway across the open expanse of tarmac when a scream rang out from the darkness. A body flew through the air, covering almost fifteen feet before it was cut down by a volley of automatic weapons fire and crashed to the floor in a tangle of bloody limbs. What remained of the corpse wore standard army fatigues and was still twitching as the last of its blood leaked out to form a dark mirror on the ground.

“Damn it, I told you to check your targets. Does that look like a bloody werewolf to you?”

They began to move forward again, more slowly this time, the men’s fear beginning to override their training. They were focusing their attention on the unseen threat in the mist, and seemed to have forgotten, just for a moment, about how dangerous their prisoners were.

A pair of glowing green eyes shone out from the dark shadows between the MT building and the adjacent hanger. A thick, guttural snarl filled the air. The soldiers swung to face it as one and, as their weapons trained on the lurking werewolf, Daniel, Marie and Michael made their move.

The vinyl ties around Daniel’s wrists snapped, and the big German stepped back, grabbing the stock of the nearest soldier’s SA-80 with one hand, while slamming the other into his throat. Michael kicked out at another man, shattering his kneecap. As the soldier cried out and fell to the ground, Michael grabbed his head with both hands, twisting it clean off before hurling it at Colonel Richards. It connected with the commanding officer’s skull with a sickening crack, and he collapsed, seemingly unconscious.

Panic spread through the troops. Several of them opened fire at the dark shape of John, who had burst from cover and ran directly towards the soldiers and their captives, seemingly oblivious to the bullets that buzzed through the air around him. Marie grabbed the rifle from the man Daniel had killed and swung it like a club at the head of the sergeant. The plastic stock of the weapon shattered in her hands, but the man fell forward and didn’t move. She grabbed Michael’s arm as he finished off another soldier. “Come on. We need to get to the truck.”

Her brother looked at her for a moment, his eyes shining with joyous bloodlust, before he snapped out of it. More soldiers were running from the subterranean complex, and bullets exploded into the tarmac at his feet. He nodded his agreement and they sprinted towards the open hanger doors, with Daniel following close behind them.

More bullets slammed into the concrete walls of the garage as Marie reached the comparative safety of the building. The air was filled with screams and the sound of automatic weapons fire. Daniel passed her and reached the idling prisoner transport vehicle, yanked open the driver’s door and hurled the startled soldier behind the wheel into the side of an adjacent truck. Marie pulled open the rear doors and threw herself inside just as another hail of bullets peppered the reinforced walls of the vehicle. Michael joined her less than a second later. She crouched behind the closed door and risked a glance outside. John had reached the squad that had been escorting them, and was hurling bodies away from him as if they were stuffed toys. His muscular form lashed out at anything in a uniform, but, she realised, without inflicting serious injuries. His attacks were restrained, avoiding fatal blows to the armed men, or even anything that would break the skin and transmit the curse. He was fighting like a man in a bar brawl instead of letting his animal side dictate the flow of the battle.

“John, get your fucking arse in here,” she screamed at him.

John dropped another unconscious soldier and looked in her direction. Then Colonel Richards staggered to his feet, almost ten feet from where John stood, raised his pistol and emptied it into John’s back.

Marie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She screamed John’s name as more soldiers poured from the complex and opened fire on him. Plumes of blood burst from John’s body as the troops emptied their magazines, reloaded and continued firing. His body began to twist. Bones shattered and reformed. Hair retreated into pores, and in a matter of seconds, John’s naked body lay face down on the tarmac.

“No! John!” she screamed, and tried to get out of the truck, but Michael grabbed her, holding her still.

“He’s gone, Marie. There’s nothing you can do for him.”

She fought against her brother’s grip. “No, that can’t be right. He can’t be dead.”

Michael pulled the rear door closed as more bullets slammed into the truck, then slapped his hand against the rear wall. “Daniel, get us the fuck out of here. John’s down.”

The truck began reversing at speed, the plink of bullets echoing around the interior. Michael put his arm around his sister, who sat on the floor with tears running down her face. “We have to stop, Michael. We have to go back for him.”

He held her close, running his hand through her hair. “Marie, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. John’s dead.”

Chapter 7

25th December 2008. Trecorras Cottage, Llangarron, Herefordshire. 02:15

The journey back to the cottage had been tense. They’d abandoned the prisoner transport vehicle in a small patch of woodland close to the English border and finished the journey in a stolen Ford Focus that Daniel had parked there earlier. Michael sat in the front passenger seat, while Daniel drove. Marie hadn’t said a word since they’d escaped the base, her grief poisoning the atmosphere in the vehicle until Michael hadn’t been able to take it anymore and turned the radio on to listen for news reports of their escape. The near constant stream of old Christmas songs had made things even more uncomfortable, and after a few minutes, he turned it off again. The rest of the journey had been undertaken in an uneasy silence.

Michael struggled to understand the severity of his sister’s reaction. She’d lost people before. Friends, family members, even lovers. However, he couldn’t remember seeing her like this since their older brother David’s death when they were children. This wasn’t like her. She was stronger than this. John’s death was a tragedy, but a lot more people were going to die before this ended. Michael shook his head. The way things had escalated, he struggled to even envision an ending to this. It was his worst nightmare. The thing he’d spent most of his adult life trying to prevent. They were staring extinction in the face, and the loss of one person was insignificant compared to that, even if that person had once been his best friend.

He glanced across to Daniel. The German’s eyes shone green as he drove along the dark country road. They couldn’t risk having headlights on. They’d heard the distant noise of a helicopter a few times now, and the risk of detection was too great. Instead, Daniel had used his enhanced senses to navigate the twisting, ice-covered road. Michael was loathed to distract him, but the oppressive silence was beginning to gnaw at his nerves. “How are things in Russia, Daniel?”

Daniel kept his eyes focused on the road. “Not good. The Russians have been raiding known organised crime gangs, armed with flamethrowers and silver. So far, they’ve only hit the Mafia, and the pack are staying on the move as much as they can. Still, it’s only a matter of time before they get lucky. Or unlucky, as the case may be. Krysztof and Lukas are busy consolidating their power base, but Steffan and a few others are managing to moderate their actions. There’s still support for you, even within the Moonborn members, but it’s only a matter of time before Krysztof declares you dead and calls for a council session to proclaim a new alpha.”

Michael sighed. He’d expected something like this to happen, but he’d hoped that things wouldn’t escalate this quickly. “I need to get back there as soon as possible. What are our transport options?”

“Limited. The airports and major ports are out of the question. They’ve installed countermeasures, and by now they’ll have put all of our descriptions out to the authorities. We might get lucky with a small fishing boat, assuming that they’ve not started blockading the waters. Other than that… well, there’s always the tunnel.”

Michael’s stomach lurched. “Let’s leave that as a last resort. The chances of surviving a tunnel run are pretty slim at the best of times.”

Daniel turned his head to face him, one eyebrow raised. “And yet, that was exactly what you ordered Connie to do. With respect, Michael, part of me is not surprised she went rogue, considering that you effectively sentenced her to death. What she did was inexcusable, but not entirely unexpected.”

Anger and guilt surged within him. Daniel was right. He’d fucked up. It was his orders that Connie had been following when she’d slaughtered that policewoman, even if she’d gone way over the top. And it was his order to abandon the hunt for Wilkinson and return via the Channel Tunnel that pushed her over the edge. He was as responsible for this situation as she was. Maybe more so. “I know. And obviously, with the benefit of hindsight, I can see that I made a grave error. All I want to do now is to try and salvage something from this mess. I know that I can’t fix it. Not completely. But I’m not ready to roll over and die just yet.”