Gauntlet Rite of Ascension (14 page)

I sat at the table eating an omelet. After breakfast I decided to go to school early and just check out the sights.

I got dressed and made sure my bracelets were on. I pulled on my backpack and quietly left the loft, making my way downstairs and outside.

The walk to school was invigorating. The early hour meant that the crispness of the night was still present. The day would soon turn hot as the summer weather clung on with grim determination. Soon, the seasons would change and fall would marshal its forces and lead a charge across the land that would end in deep winter. For now, I could look forward to a stifling hot afternoon that would cling to the day and well into the night.

I was bursting with energy from the excitement of a new school year. I always looked forward to the challenges of furthering my education. I strapped my backpack on a little tighter and began to jog towards school, gaining speed, I started sprinting and found the exercise liberating and rejuvenating.

Five miles later, I slowed my pace. I checked my watch and was astounded to see only fifteen minutes had passed. I barely felt winded.

I took the opportunity to walk around campus and see where my classes were. By the time I needed to be in my first class I knew where every class was and the best way to get to them.

I had three classes on Mondays and each one was uneventful. We went over the syllabus and class requirements. At the end of the day I was reluctant to leave.

I found being on a campus was energizing. It was a place that represented new ideas and exploring old ones, a place where opinions and radical thinking was protected. It was where students were expected to challenge themselves and their ideas, hopefully to either strengthen solid ones or reject weak flawed ones. Most of all it was a place of learning and growth, both things vital to a healthy state of being.

On the return trip back I didn’t sprint. I wasn’t all that eager to be filleted by Abaddon.

I was deep in my own thoughts when a scent that triggered my instincts hit me.

My heightened senses picked out four distinct odors, each one definitely a male. They had the deep musky odor that was strong and unique to men. That in and of itself wasn’t what triggered my defenses. There was something else intertwined with them, the same thing I detected in Katrina’s scent. It was the wild and powerful odor of the Beast.

I looked around, realizing I had walked into a manufacturing area of the city. I was surrounded on all sides by large industrial buildings and had blindly walked down an alley with only two avenues of escape.

Four men with the power of the Beast were near and for some reason I didn’t think they wanted to see how my day went.

I tossed my backpack to the side and settled into an easy stance Abaddon had taught me. I heard the sound of a bottle sliding off the pavement behind me and I turned around tracking the sound. My instincts screamed at me and acting on reflexes honed by Abaddons beatings I quickly dove to the side rolling away from where I stood.

It was a good thing I did.

I heard the sound of metal scraping concrete as I turned back to find a man standing ten feet from where I was. He held in his hand a small metal chain that gleamed with a silver sheen. It was long and extended nearly twenty feet and ended in a small silver mace.

His posture reminded me of a circus performer who uses a whip to pop balloons from his assistant’s mouth. He was leaning forward with his body weight on one foot and his arm extended after sending the mace towards the spot I had occupied a few seconds ago.

He quickly stood back up and with a quick snap brought the chain and mace back towards him. He twisted his wrist in another quick motion and the chain began to wrap itself around his forearm leaving it covered in metal with the mace dangling from his hand.

I quickly took stock of my situation. The man with the mace and chain was slightly shorter than me but was more solidly built. He wore a black sweatshirt with a hood that covered his head and hid his face in dark shadow. I could see a hint of his chin and it was covered in black stubble in need of a shave. Over the sweatshirt he wore a black leather coat and blue jeans.

Three other men were with him. One stood off to the mace man’s side and slightly behind him. The other two stood about twenty feet behind me. The one standing next the attacker was even shorter, his head also covered in a deep hood, a long red beard that ended near his chest shown from his hidden face. From the quick look I got from the other two they both were equally imposing.

“How was your first day at school honey?” The one with the mace said, acid dripped from each word.

“Who are you?” I asked.

Abaddon had been teaching me Pack law, but there was still so much to learn. Hopefully this guy could tell me something I could use to stop their attacks.

“Who am I? You mean Abaddon hasn’t told you about me? I’m shocked!” He said with over exaggerated motions, clearly mocking me.

“I am your executioner, dear boy. I am the last person you will ever see, die knowing nothing.” He said, all the while slowly stalking closer.

His eyes flashed a deep yellow from the darkness of his hood.

I backed up keeping the space between us consistent. He was pushing me back, closer to the other two men.

“You are not allowed to attack me. I have protection until after the Rite. This is Pack law.” I tried.

“Don’t quote Pack law to me you bastard whelp. I have lived under Pack law for decades. You are but a shit that will be wiped off my boot.”

“Besides, who is here to ensure the law is upheld? How will anyone know what happened here?” He said.

I was about to try reasoning with him some more but he swung his arm in a whipping motion and the mace came flying at my face.

I had only a fraction of a second to react. In the instant it took for his mace to cover the distance between us I brought my gauntlets up in a defensive posture and felt the impact of his mace on my forearms.

The blow pushed me back a step but I never faltered. The clear tone of metal ringing off metal echoed throughout the alley.

“Those are neat little gloves. They will make a nice addition to my collection.” He said in a sneer.

With a quick snap of his arm he brought the mace up and around in a wide swing that went over his head and behind him, he rolled his shoulder and again the mace came flying at me, only this time the angle was different and as it came he again flicked his wrist and the mace changed directions.

I knew I was outmatched. Maybe I could have taken him on by himself if I was in a more open area. This closed space made it hard for me to maneuver and dodge his attacks.

His friends made retreat impossible. They had set a nice trap and I had walked right into it. My best option would be to run and try to get as far away as fast as possible.

As the mace came in I remembered Abaddons words, “The best way to beat someone with more range than you is to get inside that range. Eliminate the advantage that range gives them.”

I brought my left arm up and again blocked the incoming mace. My arm went numb from the force of the impact but I never slowed down. He again brought the mace back towards him and it quickly wrapped around his arm leaving a small length of chain that allowed the mace to dangle near his hand.

He smiled slightly and I began to doubt if my plan was the right one.

No matter, I was committed now.

I got to within a few feet and drew on the Beasts power. I planted my left foot and leapt sideways.

I covered the ten feet towards the side of a building and planted my right foot springing off it over and behind the mace wielder.

I landed easily and kept running, a spark of hope kindled in my belly that I was going to get away when a deep, bone-chilling pain in my leg extinguished it.

I fell and landed in a jumble of arms and legs. The pain that radiated from my leg was mind numbing. I had a hard time thinking and even moving.

I looked down and saw the mace embedded in my calf. My attacker slowly walked towards me like a man who knows his prey is down and can do nothing to stop him.

If I could just get this thing out of me, I could try to get up and fight. I reached down and tried to pry the mace out of my leg only to be overwhelmed again with a fresh wave of agony. The pain was unbelievable and my vision started to get dark around the edges. I had to do something! I wasn’t going to die like this.

I turned over and tried to crawl away only to hear deep and hate fueled laughter.

There was a loud bang and I felt a concussion move the air as if someone had set off a large firecracker.

A stinging foul odor assaulted my senses. My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears. Disorientation made me panic as a yellow smoke filled the air and destroyed my sense of smell and vision. My lungs burnt from the noxious gas and my sinuses tried to eject all the fluid from them instantly. My body itched and with my heightened senses, the culmination of the gases effects was devastating.

I heard a loud police siren coming from the opening of the alley and relief washed over me as I realized someone had called the cops.

“C’mon man we have to get out of here. If we get caught he will skin us alive.” I heard one of the men say.

“The whelp is hurt; I only need a few seconds”.

“No time, the cops are at the alley.”

“His word is meaningless until after the Rite. There will be time for another attempt.”

A few seconds passed and another wave of pain flooded from my leg before it vanished.

I lay there as my disorientation from the gas made it hard for me to even get up. I didn’t care. Let the cops come. Hopefully they will have water.

I heard footsteps and saw a dark silhouette as someone approached. Their head seemed distorted as I realized they were wearing a gas mask.

As they got closer, the sounds of the police siren got louder as I noticed the person was holding a large megaphone that was emitting the blaring noise.

He looked around for a few moments before the wind finally started to blow the gas away. As the air cleared, the man turned off the megaphone and the silence was deafening. He took off his mask and reached down to help me up.

I was unable to do anything but stare as Max offered me his hand, a wide smile spread across his face. He looked a little older, but mischief still shone in his eyes.

“Are you just going to sit there like a douche or are you gonna get your lame us up?” He asked.

Chapter 15

“Max?” I asked.

“In the flesh.” He answered as he helped me get to my feet.

I stood up, shocked at his appearance. He looked pretty much the same as he did months ago. He had grown a few inches and put some weight on his bones. He stood there smiling at me.

“Surprised to see me?” He asked.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

“Saving your ass, apparently.” He said.

I gave him a look that clearly showed I was not amused.

“Okay, okay. You think I was just gonna sit around on my thumbs while my best friend turned into a werewolf?” He asked, daring me to argue.

“What are you…” I tried to say.

“Don’t give me any bullshit. I had my doubts, sure, but after watching you jump over that guy like you were hopping over a puddle I was pretty much sold.” He said.

We started walking out of the alley.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here, somewhere we can talk.” I said.

We hurried out of the ambush site and soon made our way towards the loft.

“I don’t know what you think you know or what you think is going on, but you have to get out of here. It’s real good seeing you, but it’s not safe.” I said, trying to convince him to leave.

“What I
think
I know?” He asked accusingly.

“Let’s just see how much I know. One, you were bitten by a wolf and at the full moon turned into a werewolf, killing Sara and a couple cops. Two, you managed to somehow control yourself and didn’t kill your family. Three, you ran away.”

“This is where things get interesting. You haven’t ran off into the woods to live a life of cyclic changes, turning into a werewolf and wondering the land. Not only that, but you have started going to school. That means you have found a way to stabilize your affliction. I don’t think you were able to do that on your own. I think you are part of some kind of pack or group of werewolves.” He said, challenging me.

“How the hell do you know about that?” I asked, amazed.

“Dude, I have spent my life obsessed about conspiracies of every kind, from alien abductions to government experiments to make super soldiers. You think I haven’t explored the “werewolves are among us” angle?”

I didn’t know what to say. I feared he had learned too much and was worried he would get himself into trouble. I hated lying to him and decided to see how much he actually knew.

“Here’s what my research has shown so far. There is a pack of werewolves. The foremost theories from people that claim to have seen them and associated with them say that they are made up of people who can control it. They have a secret society made up of werewolves and they have tentacles in many aspects of civilizations power structures.”