Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf (26 page)

Azile laughed merrily as I pulled away. Her face lit up as she did so, it was a side of her I had never seen. If I hadn’t known any better, I might have assumed she had an enchantment spell working. I felt something for her. The cynical side of me thought this was just a ploy on her part to keep me committed to her cause. The other part didn’t give a shit. If that look in her eyes wasn’t genuine, then she was an Oscar-worthy actress and I would do all in my power to find one of the now useless statuettes to give to her.

“Does this mean I have to buy you chocolates for Valentine’s
Day?” I asked.

She smi [="+neled and tenderly touched my face before getting up and walking back towards our impromptu encampment.

“I feel so used,” I told Oggie as I grabbed his face. He went for lick number two and I was able to pull back before he could make contact; he then sneezed abruptly. That, I could not escape as spittle peppered my face. I dipped my head into the stream and exhilarated at the feel of the cold water as it stung against my flesh.

I stayed down there a while longer, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened and what I actually felt about it. When I decided I couldn’t come to a conclusive answer, I grabbed my line that
not surprisingly had nothing on it and headed back up.

Azile was as aloof as ever, which, considering the dynamic of our merry little band, was probably for the better. I think Lana was pretty good with her knife, and I’d just as soon not have her try and open me up.

“Where to now, Azile?” Tommy asked.

“One more town, Wheatonville
, and then back to Talboton before the full moon.”

I almost wanted to tell her ‘why bother.’ Until it happened, it hadn’t…and that’s how these towns would see it. Also, I was quickly learning that the Red Witch was not widely loved. I was going to have to get that story, soon.

The trip to Wheatonville was fairly uneventful. Azile never once approached me and Lana wouldn’t stop. Bailey laughed at every one of the girl’s fumbling, inexperienced attempts.

“You sure do have a way with women, Michael,” Bailey said, flashing a wide smile.

“BT pretty much said those exact same words. He may have had one or more colorful phrases in there, and he certainly didn’t call me Michael, but other than that, pretty much the exact same,” I said as we both watched Lana stomp away, which was impressive considering she was on horseback. The girl really wanted nothing to do with me. I think it was that she didn’t want Bailey or Azile to win whatever game she thought we were all playing.

“My great-great-grandfather wrote a lot about you and your family and the events that had happened up to and into founding our town…but he spoke very little of himself.”

“Would you like to know?” I asked.

She nodded.

“He was a large man.” Bailey nodded. “No, I don’t think you’re getting the full picture. He was huge and not in a cutesy hippo kind of way but in a charging Rhino sort of way. Man scared the hell out of me for the first few weeks I’d known him; thought he was going to pull my head off like a spoiled child pulls a doll’s head off.” Bailey nodded in understanding. “I take it that still happens?”

“Mostly things younger brothers do to sisters, but
, yes, it happens.”

“So you can imagine how I felt.”

Bailey laughed.

“And he was no gentle giant. The man had no problem whatsoever using his genetic freak-dom to scare or intimidate people into doing what he wanted to do. Did he write that in his journals?”

“Not quite that eloquently,” Bailey ans [ writewered.

“On top of that, Bailey, I thanked God every night that
, that man was on my side. Once we got over our pissing contest—”

“Pissing contest?” she asked.

“Yeah, kind of a non-life threatening way of determining who’s in charge.”

“And what was the outcome of this ‘pissing’ contest?”

“Oh, I think BT let me win. I’m not entirely sure why, but the man had more confidence in what I could do than I did.”

“He said that you could get out of trouble with no more than a candle and a prayer.”

“Did he also tell you about my penchant for getting into trouble?” I asked.

“Yes, he did not leave that out.”

“That man sacrificed everything to stay by my side. I know he had family he was never sure made it through.”

“He considered you family after he lost his wife.”

“He was married? He always gave me so much crap about it, I figured he was a lifelong bachelor.”

“She died on that first night.”

“Oh my God, that explains a lot of his surliness. I always thought it was because his shoes were too small and they pinched his feet.”

Bailey looked up strangely at me.

“Sorry…random thought,” I told her. “The longer you hang around me the more sense they’ll begin to make. I loved that man,” I said with a faraway look. “I considered him family – as much a brother as Gary or Ron.” A pang chased through my heart thinking about Gambo singing a Survivor song or Ron giving me crap for finding his secret stash of firearms.

“He wrote that leaving you was singularly the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he could not watch as your affliction ravaged your soul. He said day by day it was taking a little more of you.”

It wasn’t so much the vampirism that was undermining me it was the slow degradation of those around me. I knew with crystal clarity what was going to happen, and I was powerless to stop it. It is difficult to watch a grandchild be born and know without a shadow of doubt in your heart that you will outlive it. I didn’t know how to respond. I was thinking back to that day. I wished him well even as anger bubbled in me that he was leaving.

I was saved from further reflection as Azile called out. “Watchers!” She brought her horse back around to be with Tommy, who was directly ahead of Bailey and me. Lana had stayed directly ahead of the cart when she realized her advancements weren’t making any headway.

“What the hell is a Watcher?” I asked, bringing my horse up. “Sounded like a different word for scout. Azile was pointing off somewhere to the left on the horizon. Tommy was straining to see what she saw.

“I’m sorry, Azile, I don’t see it,” he was telling her.

I thought I might have caught a ripple in the air – much like one would see heat rising from a roadway during the summer months – but there was significant chance that was exactly what I had seen.
[en.g fspan>

“There were a dozen of them heading roughly towards Wheatonville or perhaps Harbor’s Town,” Azile said, a look of deep concern was etched on her face.

“What the hell is a Watcher?” I asked. Lana and Bailey both seemed to be doing prayers, different in words but with the same context. Tommy was still struggling to see the unseen. Oggie, bless his heart, was asleep in the back of the cart.

“Watchers will usually gather before a great calamity. They play no part in it that I have been able to discover but, rather, are impartial observers”

“Sounds like news reporters,” I told her.

“The only difference is they show up
before
something happens.”

“That is different.” I said. “How big a calamity?”

“Many believe the Watchers are death’s tabulators. The more there are, the more death will be dealt,” Tommy said.

“Must have been a lot of OT during the zomb-apoc,” I answered callously. “Should we warn the towns?” I asked, trying to cover up my earlier words.

“The fools won’t listen,” Azile said. “They will just believe that I have ratcheted up my rhetoric.”

“Should we stand with a town?” Tommy asked.

“Which one?” Azile asked. “They are heading in a direction that could be any of half a dozen, and just because they are going this way doesn’t mean there aren’t more heading towards Talboton or a dozen other locations.”

“I must get home!” Bailey said, tightening her grip on her reins.

“The full moon is less than a week away, does this have anything to do with that?” I asked.

“I cannot be certain, but it would appear that way. The Watchers generally arrive a few days before an event
. They seem to thrive on the buildup, and then the subsequent destruction and carnage.”

“Fuck…they
are
reporters,” I said. “Maybe worse because they know and do nothing…but not by much. Is it possible to stop a Watcher?”

“Can one stop the rain?” Bailey asked.

“You can get out from under it,” I responded.

“Bailey’s right, we need to get back to Talboton,” Azile said.

I turned to look one more time where the Watchers had been. I wouldn’t swear it on a stack of Bibles, but I was fairly certain one had stopped and was looking in our direction. Chills had raced up and down my spine. Whatever I was seeing was entirely too far away to get any refinement from; it was like looking at smoke in gale-force winds and trying to pick out a discernible shape.

“Can’t it ever just be pissed off chipmunks or something like that?” I said as I turned my horse around.

We spotted nothing amiss when we got back to Bailey’s home. There were two days before the full moon and everything looked, as it should in a thriving, healthy community. We weren’t [We o Baiexactly welcomed back with open arms. Bailey had spent the majority of the day in with the elders giving her account of what had happened the last few weeks. I figured by the time she got to the Watchers we would hastily be escorted from the city gates.

Bailey came back a few hours later. “They said you could stay through the full moon and then must leave.”

“Convenient,” I said sarcastically. “They make sure we’re here just in case and then, once the ‘all clear’ is sounded, we have to get out of Dodge.”

“Would you rather be out there, or in here if something happens?” Azile asked.

“You should probably remember who you’re asking that question of. The answer would have been the same even when I somewhat liked people,” I said.

“When was that?” Tommy asked.

“See?
That’s
comedy. Let’s go in, and the only reason I’m staying is because they have beer.”

I don’t care what any of them said, the beer was still affecting me
. Maybe it was just a remembered response, but I thoroughly enjoyed the numbness it afforded me. Word of what we had sighted had spread through the town like wildfire, and there was an expectancy that hung in the air. Part hope, part despair. Not many folks were going to sleep tonight. Me? I was going to be at the bar.

That thought lasted until Azile found me that afternoon. “You coming?” she asked.

“I’d rather not,” I told her in all honesty.

She kept looking at me.

“Fine.” I quickly downed my beer. Noon had long passed, shadows w
ere growing longer. A coolness hung in the air that belied the date. If I wanted to wax poetic, I might have gone with “the cold finger of death was present” but that seemed a little much. Azile and I climbed up into a small turret, crowding in with two archers. It was normally a one-man job, but the council felt it wise to double up on at least this night.

“If one of you starts farting I’m tossing you out.” I told the two guards, neither seemed overly amused with my light-hearted threat. Then I began to wonder how I’d feel if the threat of mass-extinction was hanging over my head. I really had the social grace of an ox. The only plus
side to this whole evening was how close I got to be to Azile; she smelled like an earthy blend of sage and lemongrass.