Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) (10 page)

Having made the decision, he edged toward the door. Katherine and Silas stayed by the window as the others removed the barricade. Tom sucked in a breath and opened the door. Soon he was crossing the threshold. He gave one last glance over his shoulder, meeting Kelsey's eyes. He winced as the door clicked shut behind him.

The hallway was eerily calm. The dull beeps of machinery drifted from rooms, a reminder of the people who'd once occupied the wing. The linoleum was a slippery mess of blood and remains. Most of the lights had gone dark, smashed by the beasts. Doors hung on hinges, broken by various struggles. He navigated the hallway, reached the end, and turned the corner. The beast he'd beheaded still lay by the elevator.

The fact that they still had power was a miracle. Tom clutched the axe as if a single swing of the weapon might protect him.
 

He recalled coming to consciousness several hours ago, confused and wondering where he was.
If only that had been the start of a dream
, he thought.
 

He was far past the point of believing that.

Tom eyed the path to the elevator, measuring his steps as he walked. He wasn't sure what he was going to do yet. He'd figure out where the man was, and then proceed from there. Gunshots emanated from the bowels of the hospital. The gun blasts were jarring, but each one was a signal that the man was alive. Tom crept down the hallway, waiting for a beast to spring from a dark doorway or dart down a blood-ridden corridor.

None did.

The snarls from the building's lower floors grew louder, and for a second, Tom was certain he was mistaken, and that the things were on the floor with him. It took every bit of restraint he had to keep from running back to the room.

A loud gunshot terminated in silence. Tom froze.

The routine hums and beeps continued, but the snarls from downstairs had stopped. Had the man fallen victim to the beasts? An icy numbness worked its way through Tom's body as he mourned the loss of a person he might never know.
 

The distinctive whir of the elevator made him jump.
Holy shit.
The man wasn't dead. He was coming upstairs.
 

Tom froze as the car crept up the shaft, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm. What if the man was a lunatic? What if he'd lost his mind? Tom jerked his head at the elevator, suddenly wishing he'd listened to his friends' warnings. The elevator emitted a distinctive ding. The doors were about to open.

He instinctively stepped back, raising his axe, scrambling to get in an offensive position. Recalling Abraham's warning, Tom announced himself.

"Hello?"

He received no answer. He gritted his teeth as the doors revealed the elevator's interior.

A lone person stood in the middle of the elevator car, shaking, holding a rifle and a handgun. A gray winter coat obscured most of the person's face. It wasn't until the man titled his head that Tom realized it wasn't a man at all.

It was Rosemary.

"Rosemary?"

Disbelieving, Tom kept his axe in the air. He stared incredulously at the woman he'd thought dead, positive he was hallucinating. He'd seen her remains outside the Knights of Columbus. Hadn't he?
Was this a ghost? A hallucination? He fumbled for words, but couldn't formulate a sentence.

"Tom?"

Rosemary's face was ashen, as if the snow and cold had taken root in her bones. Flecks of blood marred her high cheekbones. Her hair was invisible inside the hood of the jacket—a jacket he didn't recognize. She lowered her guns. It wasn't until she spoke again that Tom lowered his axe.

"I can't believe you're alive." Rosemary tried to smile, but the trauma was evident beneath her expression. He could only imagine what she'd survived, considering when he'd last seen her. Tom pictured the bodies he'd seen at the Knights of Columbus. At the time, he hadn't been sure to whom they belonged. There'd been so many of them, and so torn apart…
 

He glanced behind him.
 

"We need to get out of the hallway," he said.

Rosemary nodded vigorously.

"How many of the things are down there?" he asked.

"The place is infested."

"Let's go. Follow me. There are others."

Tom helped Rosemary off the elevator. The cold bled off her garments, reminding Tom of the bitter chill outside. Her face was flushed; her breath came in winded gasps. Her coat was speckled with creatures' remains. She clutched the pistol and rifle as if someone might take them away from her. He tried to piece together how the woman he'd thought dead was still alive as they raced down the hall, heading back to the others.

Soon they reached the door. Abraham let them in, and Kelsey, Tabatha, Sally, and the children appraised the newcomer from a distance, wary.

"Were you bitten?" Tom asked.

Rosemary shook her head. Tom studied her clothing for puncture marks, but didn't see any. Turning to the others, Tom explained that he knew Rosemary from the day before. They relaxed slightly.
 

Rosemary brushed off her coat. It appeared she was in shock. After giving her a moment to compose herself, Tom chose one of many questions.

"How'd you find us?"
 

Rosemary sucked in a winded breath before explaining. "I was in that school bus you saw outside. There were twenty of us. A few of us saw people in the window."

"I knew it," Abraham said, nodding furiously. "It was my wife and I. We were trying to warn you."

"Unfortunately, the officer didn't see you. He got out of the vehicle. And those things came out and killed him."
 

Tom swallowed. "What happened after that?"

"The bus driver took off. We were halfway down South Road when two of the people on the bus turned. It was chaos. The driver careened off the road and into a tree. The things went through the bus, tearing everyone apart…" Rosemary trailed off. She covered her face with her hands, crying.

Tom stared at her in disbelief.
 

"You were the only one that survived?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes," she whispered, pulling herself together.

"But how?" Glancing at the pistol in her hand, he surmised, "With the gun?"

"I didn't get this until after. It was holstered to the driver's body. He never even got the chance to use it."

"Is that his jacket?"

She nodded, swallowing. "Yes. Mine was torn by some of the other survivors during the frantic scuffle to get away. It was mayhem. I found this behind his seat."

"That's why I didn't recognize you," Tom said, putting the facts together. "So how did you fight them off? I still don't understand…"

"I didn't," Rosemary said, swallowing. "They let me live."
 

She stared at the people around her, hesitant to explain.

"There's something else I haven't told you," she said. "My sons, Jason and Jeffrey, were the beasts on that bus."

Tom stared at Rosemary in disbelief. He tightened his grip on the axe. "I don't understand. Were they bitten?"

"No. They've been this way for a while."

Tom's blood raged as understanding crept in. He stared at Rosemary as if she'd made a mistake, but she remained silent, neither taking back nor refuting what she said. "You led me to believe they were dead! I grieved alongside you at the Knights of Columbus! You knew what your sons were, and you didn't tell me?" He stepped toward her, murderous intent in his eyes, temporarily forgetting about the weapons in her hands.

Rosemary watched him guiltily. "I lied to you, Tom. I did it so you'd help me find them. I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong. But I had to get to them."

Tom's hands shook with anger at her betrayal. What else did this woman know?

Was she really here to help them?

"Where did you find them?" Tom demanded.

"In the woods outside of the Knights of Columbus."

"They were probably there the whole time. They killed all those people!"

"I… Yes, they did. Them and some others."

"You knew what they did, and you said nothing?" Tom took another step toward her. "You tricked me into helping you!" he spat. "You lured me out of Colton's house."

"Would you have helped me otherwise?" Rosemary asked, plaintively.
 

"Of course not!" Tom glanced at the door, as if a horde of beasts might come crashing through it. "Why should I believe a word you're telling me now? You're probably lying, so you can lure them in here!"

"I'm not." Rosemary's face was grave. "I'm in as much danger as you are."

"I don't believe that."

"Didn't you hear the gunshots downstairs? I had to fight my way up here. I saw survivors, and I wanted to help." Rosemary sighed. "A lot of what I told you was true, Tom. I wanted to find and protect my children. I did what any good mother would do. "

Tom stared at her, outraged. "A good mother? It's your fault those people on the bus are dead!" Tom restrained himself from screaming. "You never should've taken your kids on there! What were you thinking?"
 

Rosemary wiped her face, inadvertently—or perhaps intentionally—flashing the pistol. Sally gasped and stepped back, clinging to the children. Tom eyed the guns, trying to determine if he could overpower Rosemary. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abraham take a tentative step back.

Rosemary bowed her head, blinking away tears. She lowered the gun. "When I first found out what Jason and Jeffrey were, I thought I could control them. I thought I could keep their secret. It was easier before I'd seen what they did firsthand. But now, after seeing them change…after seeing them kill on that bus…"

"How long have you known about this?"

"A year." Rosemary lowered her head. "My husband, Ron, was one of them."

"He was?"

"What I told you before about Ron—that wasn't a lie. My husband was really sick. He really had cancer, and he died a few months ago. When he was first diagnosed, he didn't tell anyone, not even me. I'd known what he was for a year, but I had no idea he was going to transform Jason and Jeffrey. He wanted to pass on his legacy. If I'd known that, I never would've allowed it to happen."

Tom kept his eyes locked on her weapons. "But you already knew what he was doing, and you said nothing. You're sick. You're responsible for the death of all those people on that bus. And who can guess how many others." He threw up his hands.

Rosemary looked up at Tom, but she didn't try to defend herself. Her tears seemed real. He'd never trust her. Never again. It took all his willpower to resist making a move for the weapons. The only thing stopping him was the fear of endangering the others.

Sensing his intentions, Kelsey grabbed his arm. "Listen, Tom, Rosemary made it all the way up here. Maybe she can help us."

"I don't see how. We can't trust a word she says."

Rosemary shifted uncomfortably. Her gaze wandered to the others and back to Tom. "Those things will be coming up here soon. I don't expect any of you to trust me, but the least I can do is tell you my story."

"I don't see how that will help," Tom said.

"Maybe we'll learn something," Kelsey suggested. "Maybe she knows something we can use to survive."

Tom curbed his anger as he looked at the door, listening for the beasts. The hallway was silent, but for how long? They had to do something. Kelsey was right.

"If you want to talk, you'd better hurry."

"I'll tell you everything I know," Rosemary said, lowering her head. "Starting with how I found out about my husband."

"For years, Ron worked a rotating shift at a steel company in town. His hours were always different, and he worked a lot of overtime. I didn't always keep track of his schedule." Rosemary paused. "But then I started noticing things: periods of time where he was missing, or times when he came home early or late. It always seemed to happen around the same time each month. I started tracking him more closely. For a while, I suspected he was cheating, and I grew angry. Rather than confronting him, I decided to figure out what was happening. So one day, I followed him."

"What happened?" Tom asked, still withholding his anger.

"He went to People's Forest," Rosemary said, chewing her lip nervously. "He's always been a hiker and a camper, so I thought maybe he was sneaking in some time to himself. But it didn't make sense. It was nighttime. He wasn't using a flashlight. So I followed him into the woods."
 

After speaking these words, Rosemary fell silent. Tom saw the seed of something dark in her eyes, something she'd rather not recount.
 

"What happened when you followed him?" he asked.

"I didn't see all of what Ron did in those woods, but I saw enough. The moon was full that night, and it pierced through the trees, allowing me to follow him. He went down one of the main trails and veered off. I was afraid he'd catch me." Rosemary swallowed. "We kept going until we were deep in the woods. I heard voices. We came upon a pair of hikers trying to start a fire. They were messing with kindling and a lighter. They were only about twenty years old. I watched Ron get close. Instead of going near them, he stopped and watched them from the trees. It was creepy. The kids were laughing and joking about a movie they'd seen. They'd just started the fire when Ron changed. One second he was standing there, and the next he was twisting and contorting, becoming one of
them
. He tore out from behind the tree and attacked them. They had no idea what was happening. They didn't even fight back. I can still hear their screams…"