Mad Cow (2 page)

James looked and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Perched on the truck’s hood was the largest dog he’d ever seen. No, not a dog, a wolf. No … not a wolf … James’ mind struggled with the realization for a moment, but there was no other explanation or description for the massive, slavering, red-eye-glowing form on the truck’s hood.

“You said there was magic —
you never said there were werewolves!
”

Several things happened simultaneously.

Frank threw the truck in gear. James, against all rational thought and sanity, raised his head above the truck’s roof to get a better look at the creature perched on its hood. The creature, apparently hearing his shout, raised its own head to look at James.

James, seeing nothing but air between his head and the creature’s dripping jaws, discovered that he could, indeed, fit through the truck’s rear window rather quickly.

“Go!
Go!
Gowhyaren’tyougoing!
” he screamed.

Frank floored the accelerator.

James heard the
screech
of tortured metal and righted himself in truck’s cramped rear seat. At first he was happy to see the creature wasn’t on the truck’s hood anymore. The truck was moving backward rapidly and the creature was a rolling bundle of fur and flashing red eyes in the headlight beams. Then he saw the deep furrows in the metal of the truck’s hood.

That can’t be good,
he thought.
It can’t be good that they can scratch metal — metal’s harder than bodies. If they can scratch metal like that they can —

He forced himself to break off the babble of his thoughts. His head hit the back of the front seat as Frank slammed on the breaks, then threw the truck into drive before it completely stopped.

“Take the wheel!” Frank yelled.

James fought to keep himself level enough to see outside.

“What?”

“The wheel! Take the wheel!”

James slid over the seatback into the front, righting himself on the passenger seat just in time to look forward and get a good view of the werewolf who’d fallen off the hood. The creature was directly in front of them, pinned by the headlights and staggering to his feet. He looked up and shook his head as though dazed by the fall just as the truck reached him.

There was a loud
thump
, followed by Frank yelling something triumphant, and the truck bounced more than the rutted field could account for.

“Eat
that,
shifter!” Frank yelled.

James looked back. Past the glow of the truck’s taillights the limp form of the werewolf lay on the field barely visible in the cloud of dust from the truck’s passage.

“Did I get him?” Frank demanded. “Did I get him?”

“You got —” James paused.

The lump of fur behind them stirred, shivered, then rose. James could hear the subsequent howl over the roar of the truck’s engine. The werewolf was after them in an instant.

“You got him pissed off,” James said. The werewolf was running now and growing closer with every stride. “And he’s faster than us! Go!”

“Take the wheel! I can’t use magic while I drive!”

James remembered that was why he’d crawled into the front seat to begin with. Frank raised up off the driver’s seat and James slid under him, grabbing the wheel and trying to keep their legs from tangling as they switched out the pedals.

Once in place, James floored the accelerator as much as he dared, ignoring the truck’s bouncing across the rutted field.

“
Ow!
” Frank yelled as his head impacted the truck’s roof. “Watch it!”

“Bite me.”

James looked in the rear view mirror and saw the werewolf rapidly gaining. Frank flung himself into the back seat and began muttering under his breath, then waved his hands through the open rear window. Green light blossomed around the werewolf’s feet and the creature took a tumbling roll in the dust behind them.

“
Ha!
” Frank yelled.

A snarling, snapping muzzle crashed through the passenger side window. Pieces of glass flew throughout the cab. Claws scrabbled at the inside of the door.

“
Aaahh!
” Frank yelled.

The werewolf was almost too large to fit through the window, but it was gradually forcing its way in. Inch by inch it made its way through the opening. Frank rummaged on the rear floorboards.

“Do something!” James yelled.

“I am! There’s so much junk back here, there has to be — ha!”

The werewolf was halfway into the truck’s cab. James swung the wheel back and forth, trying to throw it from the truck, but that seemed to do almost as much bad as good.

There was a hissing sound and several clicks from the back seat. James glanced over to find an enraged, snarling, neon orange, werewolf muzzle just inches from his face.

“Dude! Spray paint isn’t going to —”

Whumpf!

The lighter in Frank’s other hand finally flared, igniting the stream of spray paint striking the werewolf’s head and singing James.

The creature howled, this time in pain, and reversed course, struggling backward. Frank kept the stream of flame on it, igniting more of its fur. The heat and scent of burning hair filled the cab, along with glow of small flames as parts of the truck’s interior were struck.

“Keep going!” Frank yelled, beating his hands on the ceiling where the headliner smouldered. The werewolf fell back through the window, bouncing along the side of the dirt road and adding smoke and flames to the dust cloud raised by the truck. “They won’t be able to keep up once we hit a highway!”

“How do you know?” James asked.

“Because they’re, like, dogs, right? We get on a real road and floor it, dogs can’t run that fast.”

James heard a growing rumble and checked the mirrors to find a single headlight close behind them. It accelerated quickly and drew up alongside the truck. His blood chilled at the sight of the figure riding it.

“Dogs can’t drive motorcycles either!” he yelled.

The half-man, half-wolf on the motorcycle drew closer. James could see it was gathering itself to leap into the truck’s bed.

“Do something!” Frank yelled.

“You’re magic guy!” James screamed. “You do something!”

“I’ve got nothing left, man. I can only do, like, memory and little tricks anyway!”

James screamed again in frustration. He jerked the steering wheel away from the motorcycle, almost driving into the brush on the other side of the road. The motorcycle followed, bouncing over ruts, but the creature maintained control and prepared to leap into the truck again.

He flung the wheel the other way, hitting the bike and driving it into the brush on the other side of the road. The creature grabbed the side of the truck bed, hanging on as the motorcycle was lost behind, bushes and branches whipping along the side of the truck to strike it.

James kept the truck there until there was a
screech
of tortured metal as he ran the truck along large tree. The fender crumpled, the side mirror was swept away, and the creature disappeared with a wet, meaty
thwunk
.

Moments later they were on a smooth, paved road and he discovered just how fast a pickup truck could go.

* * *

J
ames brought
the truck to a shuddering stop in front of Frank’s house. The big, two-story structure sat on six acres of heavy forest, isolated from neighbors and the nearest road.

He sat, hands on the wheel for a long moment, feeling the adrenaline rush he’d been on all night start to subside.

“We’re good,” Frank said, from the back seat. “We’re good, man.”

James turned the truck off, left the key in the ignition, then jerked open the door and stormed out. He took several steps away from the truck and looked up at the night sky, wondering if he’d ever be able to see the moon without pissing himself again – wondering if he’d ever be able to look at Frank without wanting to wring the bastard’s neck.

“This is not good, Frank — it’s nowhere even close to good. What if those … those
things
find us?”

“How’re they going to do that?”

“Dude, they saw us, saw the truck … maybe they took the tag number —”

Frank hopped out of the truck.

“These are not rocket scientists we’re dealing here, man.”

“No!” James yelled. He really wanted to punch Frank. Just punch him in the damn nose for getting him involved in this at all. Then kick him in the balls for being so blasé about, for hell’s sake,
werewolves!
“No, they’re not rocket scientists! They’re werewolves!
Biker
, drug-dealer, for real damned,
werewolves!
And we tried to rip them off!”

Frank laughed.

“Do you not think they might be
pissed off
about that?” James demanded.

Frank laughed louder.

“They’re yahoos — yeah, werewolves, but still yahoos. They probably don’t even remember what we look like, much less the —”

Frank broke off and frowned.

Then James heard it too … the sound of motorcycles.

Frank shook his head. “Nah …”

Headlights flashed in through the trees back along Frank’s long driveway and the night air was split by a long, rolling howl.

“Or they could have followed us,” James said.

* * *

“
C
ome on
!”

Frank led the way into his house, then down to the basement. The sound of engines and howls grew louder and louder behind them, followed by crashing glass and rending wood. James slammed the door to the basement stairs, muting some of the sound, but he didn’t think it would do much good other than that.

I’m going to die — they’re going to eat me!

He followed Frank across the basement to a larger, steel door set into a brick wall. This was the room in which Frank had first shown James his magic. His grandfather’s trove of magic and sorcery, discovered by Frank when the old man died and left it all to him.

“In!
In! In!
” Frank yelled.

James dashed inside and Frank slammed the heavy door, pulling the multiple bolts. The room had no other doors or windows, and its walls were lined with shelves. Dusty books, weird jars and bottles, rolls of what James always thought were parchments but was afraid to look at without Frank’s permission.

The
clang
of the door still echoed, but Frank laid his palms on the door and started mumbling. Odd sounds that seemed to roll past James’ ear without fully settling.

Frank pulled his hands away, shouting one more nonsense syllable, and the door suddenly blazed with light — bright, green lines of glowing light crisscrossed the door.

“Wards,” Frank said, stepping back with a smile. “No damned
way
they get through that, man!”

“Are you sure? Your little memory trick with the flour didn’t do so hot, dude.”

Frank scowled at him.

“That’s different — that was geared toward humans.” He waved at the door. “This is meant to stop
anything
.”

Thud.

Something impacted the door and, with it, one of the glowing lines exploded in a shower of sparks and disappeared.

* * *

T
he shower of sparks faded
. There was silence for moment, then another
thud
and the door shook again. A second glowing line flared, then erupted in new sparks arcing throughout the room.