Catnip (22 page)

Holding his weapon seemed to give Callaghan a
sense of reassurance. He flicked off the safety, gulped, and set
his stance. “If he wants in, then he’s gonna be toast.”

False bravado or not, Harry hoped the hunter
was as good as he claimed to be. A second later, a peal of thunder
echoed and the door burst open. Ivan stood in the doorway, a wicked
grin on his face. Callaghan’s jaw dropped and he almost dropped the
rifle as well. “Sweet Jesus,” he gasped.

“Get him!” Harry yelled.

Callaghan raised his rifle, and keeping it
firmly lodged against his shoulder, he fired five shots in rapid
succession. Each bullet caught the bear-man full in the chest. Ivan
roared, staggered briefly, and then lumbered forward and backhanded
the fat man, sending him flying across the room. He slammed into
the wall and sagged down. The bear-man twisted the rifle until it
snapped and tossed the pieces aside.

“Damn it!” Callaghan swore, and got
unsteadily to his feet. He staggered over to the alcove. “That was
a good rifle, damn it! Give me some time!”

Anastasia gave him the seconds he needed.
Hissing and spitting, she went after the creature and raked her
claws against his face and then jumped over his head to land on his
back. She continued the assault while Doug, who muttered, “Man’s
best friend” jumped in and bit into the monster’s leg, worrying it
like a dog would worry a rat.

Ivan snarled a hot, enraged cry of pain
coupled with pure animal rage. He rolled over on his side and
Anastasia jumped off just in time as Doug scurried away to a safe
distance.

“Get back!”

Harry heard the voice, moved aside, and
Callaghan stepped into view with an even longer-barreled and more
lethal-looking weapon. “This is my equalizer, the Predator. It
ain’t legal, but it’ll take him out.”

While Anastasia and Doug stood together
panting from the exertion, the hunter took center stage, sighted
and fired point blank. It sounded like a cannon going off. His
first two shots hit each of Ivan’s shoulders and the creature
actually staggered back against the wall. The next one hit him
right in the chest, and he sagged to his knees. Blood ran from his
mouth and he stayed in a bent over position, but didn’t die.

“What in the hell…?” Callaghan asked in
disbelief. “This is supposed to stop an elephant!”

It didn’t stop Ivan. In a flash he got up and
charged, grabbed Callaghan in a lethal embrace, and crushed him
along with his weapon. Harry heard the man’s spine and the rifle’s
steel spine crack. Blood spurted out of his mouth and ran down his
chin, turning his beard a deeper red. Ivan let him go and the
hunter sagged to ground, stone cold dead.

Ivan then turned his attention to the smaller
trio. Anastasia once again went on the offensive, slashing at the
immense beast’s face and neck area and spitting out her rage. The
monster’s cries reached nuclear proportions and with a lightning
fast move, he grabbed Anastasia who yowled and raked his face. He
hunched his shoulders and buried his chin between them, and even
though she tried to slash his throat open, she couldn’t quite reach
it. “Harry, do something!” she implored.

Fight back!
He grabbed the toolbox and
battered the creature’s head with it repeatedly, but it didn’t seem
to have any kind of effect. In desperation, he dropped the box and
set himself up in a fighting stance. His boxing skills came to life
and he rained shot after shot at the creature’s neck and jaw. He
tried to think of it as punching a heavy bag.

This heavy bag, though, hit back, and Ivan
took one of his hands off his female captive with one hand and
swatted Harry aside. The blow stunned him for a moment and he
sagged to his knees.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Doug
marching forward, stalwart and unafraid. He seemed resigned to his
fate and waved his paw as if to say no further help was needed.
“You’d better leave. See ya, bud,” he muttered, and went after the
monster’s other undamaged leg. With a loud growl, he bit
ferociously into the giant’s thigh as hard as possible.

Ivan roared again and tossed Anastasia
through the window. A shower of glass rained down on the floor, and
the monster reached down to grab his smaller prey. His paws went
around Doug’s neck and started to squeeze the life out of him. Doug
twisted his head and choked, “Get out now!”

Harry didn’t want to go, but he had no
choice. He ran to the door, only pausing long enough to see his
friend reach up to scratch the monster’s face with his own sharp
claws and then bite as hard as possible into his opponent’s beefy
arm. Then Anastasia came around from the side of the house still
shaking the glass off her body, grabbed his hand, and they ran into
the storm.

The rain pelted down, a crack of thunder
sounded, and a flash of lightning illuminated the cabin. An image
of Ivan slowly eviscerating Doug seared itself into Harry’s brain,
a horrifying picture of slow torture and death.

A clap of thunder sounded again and over it,
he heard a scream of agony and then a bellow of pure rage coupled
with the shouts of a fresh kill. Harry stopped momentarily, torn
between his girlfriend and the man—not dog—who’d sacrificed himself
for a nobler cause. Tears of frustration ran down his face. “We’ve
gotta go back!”

Anastasia pulled him close to her and shouted
over the storm, “We can’t do anything for him now!”

She was crying as well, but still had the
presence of mind to escape the situation. Ivan had the bloodlust in
him and wouldn’t be satisfied with just one victim. She yanked on
his arm and they lit out into the night, their tears mixing with
the rain.

As he ran, Harry reflected on the man who’d
given his life for them both. He hadn’t known Doug very long—only a
little over a day—but he’d seemed like a decent person and now…now
his friend was dead and he was running for his life and didn’t know
if he’d live to see the next day’s sunrise.

They ran through the storm and didn’t stop
for a second. With each passing step, Harry’s breath became more
ragged and he felt that his heart would give out. Occasionally
lightning split the night and illuminated the area and when it did,
every shadow looked like Ivan, gigantic and menacing and
unstoppable.

Finally, his muscles seized up and his lungs
could take no more air in. He fell, clutching his leg, and his
computer bag went flying over his head and landed on a pile of wet
grass and leaves. His girlfriend stopped beside him, her breath
coming out in faint pants. “What is it?”

“Can’t…go…any further,” he gasped, his chest
rising and falling sharply. His breath came in ragged pulls of air.
“Go. Hide.”

His girlfriend pulled him up. “No, we have to
keep going. I’m not leaving you, not now.”

For the first time in their ultra-brief
relationship, Harry got truly pissed off. He clutched at his leg,
trying to massage the fire out of his muscles and he wheezed out,
“Listen, you can run faster than I can. That thing wants me…and
it’s already killed Doug, so let it get me. At least you can get
away.”

She started to cry and grabbed his shoulders.
“Let him kill you? No, not happening. You’re the only link I’ve got
left, the only link I ever had. Who else is gonna make me normal
again?”

As they sat on the grass, water streaming
down their faces, Harry realized he didn’t want to be without her,
either. You had to show balls at least once in a relationship. Now
was the time, and with an effort he stood up. Anastasia put her arm
around his shoulder and hugged him. “I’m sorry about Doug, too. He
was a good guy, but we have to think of what to do
now.
” She
wiped her eyes and then sniffed the air, her whiskers and ears
twitching, and added, “I can’t smell Ivan. Let’s get going.”

“But…”

“We go together,” she said firmly. “I won’t
leave you. We go together or not at all. Besides, the rain will
cover our scent.”

She retrieved his bag and they continued
their journey. Harry stopped occasionally to massage his aching and
cramping muscles, and after two hours of slogging through the rain
they could go no further. “Where are we now?” he asked. It was
still pitch black, but Anastasia took his arm and guided him
through the forest.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, still stepping
quickly but carefully around fallen logs, tree stumps, and circular
piles of animal dung. He stepped where she did and soon they found
themselves on a small ridge. Below them was a creek. She suddenly
stiffened. “There are probably other inns and cabins down
there.”

Anastasia stopped and shook herself all over,
the movement sending glittering drops of water through the air.
“That was an implanted memory, wasn’t it?”

Harry peered through the darkness. “Maybe so,
but I can see a few lights still on. You were right about the
cabins being down there. Should we go?”

“Let me scout around first.”

He found refuge in a clump of bushes while
she dropped to all fours and tore off into the night. While waiting
and trying to get his breath back, he wondered if she was somehow
leading him into a trap. Nurmelev lived here…maybe. Was he the
scientist who’d experimented on them? Maybe…there was no way for
him to know.

He also thought about the changes going on.
How much longer would it take until…?

No, I’ll find a cure, I’ll help her, he
thought. I’ll help her and we’ll be…

“Harry?”

She’d come up quietly to his left and through
the rain. Her face peered at him, the fur matted down. “What is
it?”

“I found somewhere to stay. It’s not a cabin.
It’s some kind of storage place.”

She stood erect, took his hand, and carefully
led him down the hill. The grass was slippery and he fell more than
once, but finally they reached the bottom. A small shed made of
metal stood out from the night and the raindrops made faint pinging
sounds as they bounced off the roof. Anastasia wrenched the lock
open and once inside she shook the water off her body and instantly
started to groom herself. Harry looked around and let out a gasp.
“What kind of place
is
this?”

Hooks—large, nasty looking meat hooks—hung
from the ceiling, knives of all sorts lay on a table along with
spools of thread and…animal skins, the smell of which still
permeated the stale air. Anastasia suddenly stopped her grooming
chores and cast her eyes up to stare at the pelts. “You think this
was one of Callaghan’s side jobs?” she asked, her eyes shining with
a touch of fear in them.

“I hope not.”

As he looked at all the weaponry there—even
in the dim light the bloody streaks stood out clearly—Harry got a
very bad feeling and he definitely didn’t want to know who the
owner was. “We’ve gotta get dry.”

Now the cold started to get to him, and he
started to shake. Anastasia searched the shed and came up with two
musty blankets. Even though they smelled from age and mold, they
were better than nothing. He wrapped one of them around his body
and then around Anastasia. As he lay down on the cold ground, he
had a macabre thought. Even if Ivan didn’t kill him, he’d probably
catch pneumonia. Killed by a bug and not a bear—the thought made
him laugh.

Anastasia didn’t seem to find the situation
funny and her practicality surfaced. With a quick movement of her
shoulders, she shrugged off the blanket and pulled him up from the
floor. “You have to keep warm,” she said. “Get out of your
clothes.”

He stared at her and realized she was right.
Girlfriend or not, shyness overcame him, and he pivoted around and
stripped down. She deftly plucked his wet clothes from his hand,
wrung them out, and hung them from one of the hooks on the ceiling.
He got back under the covers, still shivering violently.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” she asked.

Without waiting for him to answer, she spun
around, slipped off her clothes, and hung them up as well. God, she
had a great body, he thought. Dim light or not, he saw the gentle
curve of her hips and lower back, the graceful way she moved, and
the utter lack of concern she had for him seeing her naked.

In a quick movement, she slipped under the
covers and lay next to him. Harry’s heart began to speed up into
the red zone, and although he didn’t sweat—a first for him—he also
didn’t know what to think…or do.

Still, the warmth of her body, the curves and
the almost-primal smell of her…he turned his head away. Anastasia
gently pulled his head around to face her. “Something wrong?” she
asked. “Is it because I’m…?”

He felt too embarrassed to answer. She
thought it was because of her animal genes and he shook his head.
Fumbling for words, he managed to get out, “No, it’s not that, just
that I, uh, I’ve never, you know…”

“You can hold me,” she said, her voice
gentle, and he knew she realized that he had no experience with
women. Could it be any more obvious? The fact shamed him and she
touched his face. Her fingers moved gently over the folds and
contours of his skin and he relaxed. “Harry, it’s okay. I also got
soaked by the storm, you know? I just want you to hold me. That’s
enough.”

Was it? He thought—perhaps the same thing
every young guy thought—his first time with a woman would be in a
quiet—or at least, dry—setting, the mood would be perfect, the
weather, warm…it was a romantic notion at best and it wasn’t going
to happen here.

Then another thought occurred to him. “We
could die right here and right now,” he said, his teeth chattering.
“Do you just want to hold me?”

Anastasia’s yellow eyes sized him up and she
smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t know if I’ve ever been
with anyone.” She shook her head. “I wish I could remember. Maybe I
knew some guys before or maybe not. But right now, all I want to do
is sleep with you. I mean, just sleep?” She arched her eyebrows to
underscore her point.