The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) (32 page)

BOOK: The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy)
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Her
foot kicked something.

At
first, she thought it was just a discarded shoe, until, she realized, it was
Helena’s. “Helena?” She said again, her voice vibrating with fear. “Are you in
here?”

More
sirens filled the night, and suddenly, she realized, sirens seemed to be
blaring from every direction. The night song cried out like a perfectly
practiced choir: the soprano of police cars and ambulances; the alto of car and
house alarms; the tenor of fire trucks.

In a
far, dark corner of the alley, she saw movement. Even as she croaked, “Helena,”
she knew that the shadow was far too large to be her.

Green
eyes blazing, the beast moved forward, crawling out of the shadow. Haley took a
step backward, not sure where to run. She stumbled over Helena’s shoe again as
she walked backward. The werewolf crept closer, deliberately pacing its
encroach. Haley’s breath came out in short, sharp stabs,

Her
voice shook with her cries. She tried to make her mind focus. She cut her eyes
to the door Mitch had exited. If she tried it, and it was locked, she was dead.
She considered the car, about half a block away, and she doubted she would ever
make it to the car in time.

Breath
hissed from the werewolf’s mouth like steam from a broken radiator. It
scratched at the asphalt twice, and then suddenly it lunged.

Haley
screamed.

*
         
*
         
*
         
*

Collin
could no longer wait. He looked at his watch. It had to be dark. Collin looked
up the chute leading toward the outside of the building and began to army crawl
upward. At the top, he worked his hands forward and pressed against the door
sealing him in. He knew the door could be bolted, but most he had seen on old
houses were just caulked shut. He banged his palms against the cold metal door,
and it seemed to move incrementally.

With another
hard shove, he felt one corner on the hatch budge, and he knew—gloriously!—that
the door was caulked shut. He pressed both hands into the corner, and with a
sound like slicing, the door worked free from the caulk and flipped open. The
night breathed cold air across his cheeks. Collin slid from the chute. He
looked down at the soot covering his clothes.
Camouflage!
Collin rubbed his hands inside the chute and spread the
soot across his face and arms. He pushed the door shut and ducked down within
the evergreen bushes surrounding the foundation.

Collin
turned his attention toward the river. The reflection of the full moon
shimmered on the water. He began to stand when a howl pierced the night. Collin
pressed against the building, turning his head upward. The howl was coming from
above him, from a room.

Another
howl joined the first. And another. Dozens of howls filled the night, and fear
galvanized Collin into a full sprint away from the buildings. He slipped on the
frosty grass, and turned to look back at the school. Backlit in the windows,
werewolves moved in the buildings. He heard shattering glass, realizing the
werewolves were leaping free.

“Fuck,”
he muttered as he darted for the street. He no longer cared to hide; he just
wanted to flee. Hot tears of panic stung his cheeks, and his breath seared in
his chest as his feet pounded on the pavement. In the distance, car headlights
shimmered, coming toward him. He considered that it could be someone from the
school, but the more immediate fear of what he had seen compelled him. He ran
toward the lights, and as the car approached, he waved his hands in an attempt
to stop the car.

The
Lexus slid to a stop at the berm of the road. A woman rolled down the window alongside
him. “Do you need help?” She asked.

“Please,”
Collin begged. “They’re after me?”

“Are
you from the school?” She inquired, unlocking the door.

“Yes,
but—”

“Get
in!” She hastened.

Collin
slammed the door shut, and before he fastened his belt, she was turning the car
around. “Am I too late?” She asked.

“Yes,”
he sobbed.

“Then
you’ve seen the—werewolves?”

A great
sob burst from his mouth, and he almost unintelligibly uttered, “Yes.”

A
silhouette moved along the edge of her headlights as she completed her turn. The
woman screamed, and then something struck the side of the car. The side window
shattered and the car slid off the edge of the road. She gunned the engine, but
the tires slid in the muddy bank.

“Oh,
no,” she whispered as a group of werewolves closed in on the car.

*
         
*
         
*
         
*

Jason
flipped a few pages in his magazine and then angrily sent it sailing across the
loft to land by the window. He tossed his reading glasses off, and they landed
quietly on the sofa. His anger was less directed at Ilene and the others. They had
sought to protect—no shield—him. He was angry with himself.
What about me is so recalcitrant
, he
wondered,
that they thought I couldn’t
handle reality?
He snorted, when he considered how absurd the reality was:
werewolves exist, but not only do they
exist, but they have targeted my family
. He thought of
Teen Wolf
and shook his head.

He
glanced at the magazine sprawled on the floor, and he stood to fetch it.
Kneeling down by the window, he noticed a sudden shift in the tone of the city.
The activity no longer moved at a steady hum; it had taken on the staccato of a
phone signal fading in and out. Jason gazed out the window: people walked
hand-in-hand, cars whizzed by, lights gleamed. But something inspired fear,
like a dark object on the horizon he could not quite name.

Suddenly,
people running, shouting zipped past the couples walking hand-in-hand.

Jason
thought,
A riot?

Then he
saw the first werewolf, charging down the street, swiping at people. Victims,
raked by its claws, stumbled away. And the dark object on the horizon came into
full relief as panicked men and women fled through the streets.

And
from seemingly everywhere people burst from restaurants and bars and cars with
werewolves lunging after them. Blood soaked torn suits and shredded evening
dresses. Frighten mobs trampled the fallen wounded. Werewolves bit and clawed
at any moving object.

Jason
stumbled onto the balcony. He clutched the cold metal railing. His breath
dispersed into the night in white clouds, drifting up like the smoke filling
the streets. “Oh, my dear Lord,” Jason breathed. The chaos, the screams
resounded off the buildings. He darted back inside and slammed the door to
muffle the cries.

He
looked toward the loft door leading to the interior hallway. Voices called in
the hallway outside his door. He dug in his pocket for his cell phone and texted
Ilene: Werewolves everywhere. Don’t come home. Please be safe. I love you.

The
noise in the hallway grew more distinct as footsteps ran past, and the hallway
filled with shrieks and howls. Jason remembered images he had seen of Nazi’s
raiding buildings. He fell to the couch, feeling he was witnessing the last
night of the world.

*
         
*
         
*
         
*

Carmen
Salazar could not believe that she was spending another night off tailing Ilene
Rune. She also couldn’t believe she convinced Lance to come along. The more she
learned about the Runes, the more fear multiplied within her like a virus. She
also felt that while they were not what they seemed, they were not necessarily
the bad guys.

She
looked in the rearview mirror to check that her daughter Mona was still asleep
in the backseat. She frowned, wondering if bringing her had been the best idea.
But she also couldn’t leave her with a sitter after seeing Jared Kincaid rise
from the dead. A paranoia was working its way through her mind, making her
doubt everyone, everything. With Mona in the car, Carmen would do no more than
trail Ilene from a distance. Ilene’s brake lights flared, and her car came to a
stop at the side of the road. Carmen braked, and she could see, from a
distance, that Ilene was picking someone up.

“A
hitchhiker?” Carmen wondered aloud.

“Maybe,”
Lance replied.

Carmen
let the car roll forward, when she realized that Ilene was turning around.
Then, in the wash of the car’s headlights, Carmen thought she saw—something—a
bear?

The
terror of the past year suddenly rose within her like a hot air balloon
lifting, and the revelation of what she saw made her slam the brake, jolting
the car. She watched, transfixed, as werewolves—and she knew without a doubt
that’s what she saw—surrounded Ilene’s car.

“Oh,
Jesus!” Lance cried, jumping in his seat.

Carmen
looked again at Mona in the backseat. The child slept peacefully.

With
her lips trembling, she lowered her window. She pulled her gun from the
holster, stuck her arm out the window, and punched the gas. “Get ready to
shoot, Lance!”

“Are
you crazy?”

“Maybe.”
She began firing from a distance, scattering the werewolves. Two of her shots
thudded into a werewolf’s chest.

Lance
rolled his window down, and his shots began to blast through the night. Carmen
drove the car past Ilene’s and spun in a donut, her tires spraying gravel as
she pulled up beside Ilene’s car.

“Get
in!” Carmen exclaimed.

Gunshots
rolled like thunder as Lance fired rapidly.

Ilene
and a boy Carmen did not recognize filed out of the Lexus and leaped into her
car. Carmen saw two werewolves approaching and raised her gun. Lance fired off
shots into their chests.

“I shoot,
you drive,” he ordered.

He shot
twice more. The werewolves staggered but continued forward.

“Hold
on to your asses,” Carmen said, hitting the gas. The car launched forward,
leaving the werewolves glowing red in her tail lights.

Mona
was now awake in the backseat and crying. Ilene was trying to comfort her the
hysterical four-year-old.

“Werewolves,”
the boy stammered. “Werewolves are real.”

“Who
are you?” Carmen demanded.

“Collin.”

“How do
you know Ilene?”

“I
don’t. She just saved me.” Collin wiped his hands across his face, and the way
it smeared the soot would have been comical under other circumstances. “They
turned everybody into werewolves.”

“Everybody
who?” Lance shouted.

“At the
school. All the boys.” Collin shook. The soot began to wash off in trails with
his sweat. “I hid.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do, so I hid.”

“Oh,
God.” Ilene assured him, “You did the right thing.”

“Mom,”
Mona wailed. Ilene clutched her to her chest to calm her.

As Mona
calmed, Ilene pulled her phone from her pocket. As she read the text, her face
paled. She fought to control her voice. “My husband texted. They’re
everywhere,” she whispered. “The werewolves. All over the city.” She buried her
face in her hands, weeping.

“What?”
Carmen asked.

“I heard
them talking,” Collin explained, “that students were all over the city. That’s
why. They turned them into monsters and let them loose.” Collin looked to the
adults. “Where do we go?”

Lance
tried to keep from sounding angry as he asked, “What do you mean they turned
them loose?”

Collin
shook his head. “When I was hiding, I overheard them say that the boys were in
place. I don’t know what it means.”

“Mona,
sweetie, everything’s okay.” Carmen smiled at her daughter in the rearview
mirror, and she quieted a little. Carmen’s smile faded. “We drive until
morning.”

Lance
reloaded his gun quietly, his eyes scanning the edges of the road. “I have a
cabin. It’s not too far, but far enough away from the city to be safer.”

“What
about supplies?” Carmen asked.

“I’ve
been stockpiling since the night her house burnt down.” Lance cut his eyes to
Ilene.

Ilene
continued to stroke Mona’s hair to soothe her. “My family’s in the city.”

“And my
mom,” Collin choked.

“Turn
on the radio,” Ilene said. Lance scanned for news reports. A panicked voice
burst from the speakers. “This is not a joke. Please, go home. Lock your doors
and board your windows. We’re under attack. The city is under attack.” The
announcer’s voice drifted from the microphone, but in the background he said,
“Oh, God, another one?” The announcer returned. “Another bridge has been
leveled. A freeway bridge.” His voice broke. “How is this happening?”

“Bridges?”
Collin cried. “Is this a terrorist attack?”

Ilene
shook as hysterical breaths burst from her mouth. “It’s so much bigger than we
knew. This is what we were trying to stop all along.” She looked from face to
face. “But we failed.”

“I’m
sorry,” Lance said. “We can’t get back to the city. Not tonight.”

BOOK: The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy)
11.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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