Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf (9 page)
Read Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf Online
Authors: Mark Tufo
“Azile, this has gone on far enough,” Tommy said, taking a step forward.
“Do not break your Moon word,” the animal snarled.
Of
all the effed up things going on right now, hearing Bigfoot talk was one of the weirdest.
“No, Tommy, this is the destiny Michael has chosen for himself. He wants to die, how many times does he need to tell you that before you believe it? Pity he won’t see his family again,” she said as she walked away and back towards the roadway.
The animal picked me up by the neck as I weakly tried to keep this from happening. He redoubled his efforts when he realized his pardon was not going to be recanted.
Use his size to your advantage
, entered into my mind. I’d like to think I thought of it, but I was in too much of a panic. Wanting to die and actually having it thrust into your face are two vastly different things. How was I going to use his size to my advantage? That was like saying use the speed of the bullet heading in your direction to your favor. How does one go about that?
“Tommy, come!” Azile beckoned.
Oggie was howling as Tommy dragged him away. It was that mournful cry more than anything that spurned me on. I was thankful the monster hadn’t lifted me off the ground as I hooked my right leg behind his. I was able to push his muzzle far enough away to swing my shoulders and get some thrust as I tripped him up over my leg. We went down, with me landing on his chest. He momentarily ‘oomphed’ as my weight knocked the wind out of him. My blood was dripping on his face as I wrapped my hands around his neck. I tried to press my hands into his flesh, but it was like trying to puncture wood. He was yelling as I dug in deeper, small welts of blood began to well up around my fingers. This wasn’t going to work; he was kicking around and would eventually be able to turn his head enough to chomp right through my forearm.
His left hand shot out and rocked me hard. I began to see stars – and not of the celestial type. My moments on this plane were numbered. I released his neck with both of my hands and pushed up on the bottom of his chin,
and with all the speed my condition afforded, I leaned down and ripped out his vulnerable Adam’s apple. Even as the animal gurgled and drowned in its own blood, it flung me a good ten feet in the air. I landed hard on my side, breaking a rib against a small rock outcropping.
He stood much faster than I was able to
. His right paw went to his neck and then he pulled the claw up to his face to see the thick coating of blood. He raised his mouth and tried to howl, what came out was more of a wet wailing. He fell to his knees as blood began to pool in front of him. He never stopped glaring at me as the collection of liquid grew in size. His gaze never wavering until he fell, face forward, I knew he was dead. Pretty sure Lycans didn’t know the word ‘quit.’ I stayed long after his heart ceased beating his life-fluid onto the soil. Long after the blood soaked into the ground, long after the moon made its journey across the sky, I stood over its body, vaguely wondering if it would revert to the form of the old man. It never did.
The sun was
, once again, making its dispassionate race across the sky when I heard the approach of feet or rather paws. Oggie had finally been released and had come to find me. He alternated between whining and growling as he approached. I was still, my back to him. My rib had mostly healed, but I was still in a great deal of pain from the beating I had taken.
“It’s alright, Oggie,” I managed to get out as I turned. The pain of just that maneuver was almost a little more than I could bear. Oggie came over and sniffed at the dead Lycan, whined once, and then nuzzled his head into my leg where I gladly pet it in spite of the pain it caused me to move.
“What do you want to do, boy?” I asked, getting down on one knee so I could be face-to-face with him. Oggie placed his head on my shoulder and growled softly. “You want to fight? I’m not convinced, pup. I couldn’t imagine anything happening to you,” I told him.
He pulled back and licked at the blood, in hopes to clean me up, much like a mother will do to a child before they meet company. “Can you help me
back up?” I asked him. He stood still as I placed my hand on his shoulder and stood with a grunt. I felt more like the old man in the cage than myself.
And now, how did I deal with the betrayal – because that’s what it felt like. Azile had quite literally left me to the wolves and without so much as a warning. I was beyond pissed off, ancient witch or not, I was going to give her a piece of my mind. I would have stomped through the woods but anything more than soft steps hurt. When I came back out onto the path, they were gone. They must have left during the night. Oggie had been tied to a tree with a rope thick enough to tow a truck. It must have taken him this long to chew through it as I picked up the frayed end. My bag of money
plus my axe was sitting by the base of the tree. The latter would have been nice to have last night, didn’t think I was going to need it surrounded by friends. Lesson learned.
“That’s just wonderful,” I said as I looked at the path.
Fifty percent of me wanted to go home – if that’s what I could even call it. Another fifty percent of me wanted to know what was on the other side of this quest. Then just the minutest part, probably the weight of a
fly shit tipped the scales, I wanted to confront Azile with what she had done. With that happy thought, I slowly followed Tommy’s wagon wheels westward.
As the day progressed, I felt better and worse. Better because my numerous injuries were healing and worse because of the toll it was taking on me. I needed to feed and I needed to do it quickly. Oggie picked up on my distress as my steps began to falter and I was zigging and zagging more than I was making forward progress. He went into the woods to find us some food.
I finally found a log with my name on it and sat down hard, nearly missing it completely. I would have lain
wherever I had landed. My head was hanging low, my elbows on my knees. It was from this angle I could tell that my clothes had taken a serious beating, a good seamstress with a bolt of cloth wouldn’t be able to put them back together.
“Least of your problems, buddy,” I said aloud.
“You can say that again,” a man said as he approached. He was smiling, his top two teeth had vacated his head years ago, and by the looks of his brown-stained smile, they were the smart ones.
“What can I do you for, friend?” I asked trying to keep my head upturned.
“You can give me everything you’ve got for starters.” He pointed his half-sword at me. Half-sword because the other half had broken off at some point. The jagged, broken edge still looked mean enough to do some damage, though. The eighteen inches of blade which probably couldn’t cut butter could still be used as an effective bludgeoning tool.
“Look at me. How much do you think I have?” I asked.
“Well, less now that I’ve come around I guess.”
“Man, I thought my time sucked. This new world is no fucking bargain.” I stood slowly gripping a nearby tree for support.
“You don’t really look like you’re up for a fight,” the man said, placing his piece of steel between him and me.
“
Maybe not me, but my friend there may have a thing or two to say.” Oggie came out of the woods on the other side of the man, he dropped the rabbit he had been carrying, a low, deep grumble formed in his chest and issued forth from his menacing mouth. “Oggie, meet Waylayer. Waylayer, meet Oggie.”
“The lady
said I could take what I want from you, said you wouldn’t be any trouble at all.” The man nervously licked his lips.
“The lady said?” I asked. “That’s fantastic. I really must have pissed her off
. This is twice in less than twenty-four hours she’s tried to kill me. We’re not even dating,” I told the man, as if this would explain her anger at me.
“I could just leave,” the man
suggested; bullies, pirates, thieves, muggers…all of the lower vermin only strike when odds are in their favor, like the cowards that they are. The chances for a successful outcome had been altered, and now he wanted nothing to do with it.
“Drop your sword thing first,” I told him.
“It’s all I’ve got to defend myself. There are a lot of bad people in these woods,” he told me.
“I’m sure there are, and now I’m going to need it to defend
foufend
my
self. Drop it. The last time Oggie, over there, bit a man…took his whole hamstring with him. It was horrible, guy was screaming for his mommy. I think they took his leg off with a saw, don’t really know, we didn’t stick around long enough to find out.” The steel clattered to the ground.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said his hands upraised.
“Yet you came looking for it. Strange. Get the fuck out of here, I’m done with you.”
The guy began to slowly reach down, at first I couldn’t figure out why…and then I heard it. Back up was coming; the odds were once again shifting. Vegas was going to get whiplash trying to keep up with this betting scheme.
“Deal’s off then, I suppose?” I asked, as he stood back up sword in hand.
“What can I say, I’m one of the bad ones, my word doesn’t mean much. Sold my last wife for this sword. I couldn’t just leave it behind.
”
“You are not making a case that men are worthy of saving,” I told him.
“Did not know I was an emissary for mankind, my lord,” he said mocking me.
He did not approach, but kept his sword leveled in Oggie’s direction, I’m sure the way I looked he did not consider me a threat, and for the most part he was right.
“You could still live through this day,” I told him.
“Oh
, I fully intend to.”
“Listen, I’ve been through a war in the desert, and a zombie invasion. I even lived through
dealing with the most evil vampire that has ever roamed the world who was hell bent on my destruction. I survived an alternate reality that involved Night Runners, scary business that was. I’ve killed all manner of men, some just rednecks others trained military killers and just last night I killed a Lycan. What do you think the odds are that I’m going to be done in by a common highway man?”
Most of what I was saying made absolutely no sense to him, but it was pissing him off for good or bad.
“Common? Fuck you, twat.”
“Twat made it and not the middle finger. Weird time…weird time indeed.”
“I think you’ve got the dumbs.”
“Been accused of that before. It sure would explain a lot.”
“Gregor, you there?” one of the men called out from the woods. They were close.
“Gonna look pretty pathetic
, that you, big, strong, strapping Gregor, had to wait for his men as he was held at bay by an unarmed man on his last legs and a puppy. Yeah, they’ll sing songs about you for years. You piece of shit.” A racking cough came out as I spat those last words; a phlegm clot of blood dangled from my lip and fell to the ground.
The cough probably saved my life as Gregor saw the weakness he needed to make his move. He charged the sword out in front of him. He came without a war cry as he meant to impale me with the blade. I turned, but not enough, he was just fast enough or I was more hampeem"s more red than I thought. The barbed edge of the blade pierced my side; I involuntarily let out a cry.
“Bet that fucking hurts,” he said as he drove it in and through. His face was inches from my own.
