Hunted - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Moving slowly, Hunter slid up the next set of boulders. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Holland frozen at the bottom of the rocks, waiting for him to finish his climb before starting her own. She had done a pretty good job staying with him and not being overly noisy. The sounds being made by the others as they crashed through the woods more than covered what few errors she had made.

Pulling himself on top of the last large rock, Hunter turned and signaled Holland to start up. Seeing only the outline of her shape in the built-in enhancing film of his hood, he watched as she placed her foot in the same spot he had when he started. He was impressed that she paid so much attention to detail. Turning to look off into the distance, he could see a large group of hunters just off the edge of the road below him and off to the right. Just ahead of them, he could see the shapes of three wolves as they kept ahead of the group.

He wished he had some way to warn them but the suits were not wired for sound. An ill-timed transmission could give away an ambush and a radio was thought not to be a very good idea in a hunter suit. Looking back at Holland, he was just in time to see two large black wolves appear from the brush below her. A second of tenseness gripped his body before he reacted.

The first one sank its claws into her ankle and began to drag her from the rocks. Her fingers clawing for purchase, she tried to keep from being pulled back down but she had very little chance. Hunter began to move as Holland’s shrill cry reached him. Taking two steps down the ledge, He launched himself over the edge and fell thirty feet, landing on top of the back-most wolf.

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Billy Wright had just tucked his daughters in for the night when he heard the noise from outside. Kissing them both good-night, he pulled their bedroom door shut and walked into the living room.

“What was that noise?” he asked his wife.

“Sounded like something was in the pen with the pig,” she answered him nervously.

Reaching over the fireplace, Billy took down the 12-guage his father had given him and opened the two barrels. Placing one red shell and one white shell in the receiving end, he snapped the breach closed. Looking over at his wife, he said, “Just in case it’s not a regular wolf.”

Billy had taken what little silver they had and melted it down when the rumors of werewolves became so prevalent. He had placed the shot in a special white shell casing he had and that shell was always kept close to the shotgun.

His wife reached out and touched his arm as he headed for the door. “Be careful,” she said as she looked into his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he brushed his lips across her cheek. He reached for the front door and pulled it open.

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Sitting in the cramped quarters of the M1 Abrams Battle Tank, Lt. Barton looked down at the head of the gunner below him. He had already completed a sweep of his periscopes and had grown tired of the empty road in front and behind him. Sitting here guarding the spot where the hills squeezed up against the road leading into Tripoli had gotten a little better since the sun went down. Switching over to his CITV, he could see anything approaching his tank that gave off a heat signature. He felt sure he had nothing to worry about.

“Is Larry back in, yet?”

“Not yet, LT. That must have been some dump he had to take,” the gunner grinned up at him.

Larry Parker was the driver of the tank. He was also known for having to take a dump just as soon as they buttoned up for the night. If Barton had not let him go, he would have passed such intense gas for the next couple of hours that even the air scrubbers couldn’t handle it.

“Well, keep an eye on those viewers. Don’t need a pack sneaking up on him while he’s taking care of business.”

“I don’t know where he chose to go but he’s got pretty good cover. I haven’t seen anything for the last few minutes.”

Barton glanced up and checked his viewers. Checking all the way around, he had to admit he couldn’t see Parker’s heat signature either.

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Billy stepped outside and made sure the door closed firmly behind him. He wasn't always so careful before, but these days, he always made the extra effort. The last of the sunlight was just tipping the mountains to the east, which threw the foothills where he lived into murky darkness. He could see the roof line of the barn against the orange sky. Stepping off of the porch, he headed in that direction.

Walking beside the pig pen, he could hear the sow moving around in the mud. Billy stopped short when he realized the noises coming from the pen were nothing like he had ever heard the pig make. Leaning close to the side of the split rail fence, he looked hard into the darkness. A large dark shape was hunched over near the other side of the fence. Billy felt the hairs on his neck raise. Suddenly, the dark shape moved. Turning its head, the wolf looked directly at Billy and growled.

Billy could seethe two yellow orbs of the wolf things eyes floating over huge fangs dripping with the blood of the slaughtered sow. His eyes widened as the thing stood on two legs and took a step towards him. Shaking off his surprise, Billy raised the shotgun and aimed at the wolf-man's head. When the wolf dropped down, preparing to spring, Billy pulled both triggers. The deafening roar of two 12-gauge shells erupting echoed up the hills and down into the valley, shattering the silence of the sunset.

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Lt. Barton turned around and checked all of his screens again. He stopped when he spotted an indistinct shape crawling up the rocks just off the road to his tanks left.

"Owens, check over here to the left," he said to his gunner. Barton could hear the gun-sight reset.

"There he is!" Owens called. "Why is he climbing up there in the dark?"

Barton watched for another few seconds. Realization set in quickly. "TARGET! 174!"

"Lieutenant! That's Parker!"

"Owens, I said target! Parker would show up a lot more clearly. Remember the briefing? The wolves fur masks them a little from IR. Now, TARGET!"

Owens swung the tank's turret in a quick rotation to the left, bringing the machine guns to bear. He heard the sound of someone climbing back into the driver's seat just ahead of him. "'Bout time, Parker. Button up. We're fix'n to rock and roll!"

He had just attained a good target when he felt a really strong tug on his left leg. Taking his eye off the reticule he looked down, ready to give Parker hell for screwing around when they had a target. His words died in his throat when he saw that the lower half of his leg was gone. Owens looked up and choked. The huge brown werewolf dropped his still dripping leg and pushed away the headless body of his loader, Thompson. He could feel the scream building as the nightmare reached for his chest.

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Hunter let the wolf absorb most of the energy of his leap and all 16 inches of the sword he shoved into the notch of its throat. Rolling as they both hit the ground, he ripped his blade free and turned to face the thing that had grabbed Holland. The wolf turned, dragging her by the shattered and pierced ankle. She screamed as her ruined ankle separated from her leg bones. Looking into its face, Hunter was sure it was enjoying the pain it was inflicting.

Extending its arm, it held Holland up to him; her head two feet from the ground. Huffing its breath, RavenWing laughed at the almost invisible human in front of him. The leap it had taken from the top of the rocks impressed him, even though it had cost ShadowFang her life. Now that RisingMoon had explained what the coverings they wore looked like, RavenWing could keep the wolf-slayer in sight.

Hunter breathed, using every trick he had been taught to keep the anger at the sadistic wolf from clouding his mind. Thankfully, Holland had passed out from the pain andwas quiet for now. It was difficult not to look at her limp body suspended from that massive arm. Now that her hood had been torn away, her bloody hair just brushed the ground beneath her. Ducking and lunging to the left, Hunter just avoided having his head taken off by the claws that swung by.

Another wolf had snuck up behind Hunter while he was distracted. Now, swinging his outstretched leg in a circle, he cut the legs out from under the one behind him. As he continued to turn, he caught a glimpse of the bigger one drop Holland and take a step towards him. Bringing his sword around, he sliced the one he tripped along its outer thigh. As its scream echoed in the trees around them, Hunter stood to face the other.

RavenWing was amazed at how fluid and swift the humans movements were. He truly moved with the flow of the river. Just as BloodClaw had always tried to teach his best warriors, they must flow through battles, not fight. To see a human move like this made him pause. One second too long.

Hunter dropped forward and rolled over his shoulder, coming up low directly in front of the large black werewolf. Extending his arm, he drove his blade up and deep into the creature’s stomach and chest. RavenWing never made a sound as the power left his legs and he dropped to the ground.

Feeling another presence behind him, Hunter turned to face the new threat. Kneeling next to the wolf Hunter had tripped and sliced was another Slayer. He pulled his sword from the fallen wolf's chest and chuckled, "Hunter, it's always a pleasure to clean up after you."

Recognizing the voice, Hunter said, "Warlock! Holland's hurt. Help me get her back to the trucks."

Warlock whipped his blade to clean off the blood and sheathed it, "We have to move from here. There are wolves everywhere. It's like they know right where we are going."

"That's why you need to help me get her out of here!"

Suddenly, the loud echo of a gun echoed through the trees. Both slayers looked in the direction the blast seemed to come from.

Warlock looked down at Hunter and shook his head, "Well, we won't have to worry about running into any wolves for a while. Whoever that idiot was just called down every wolf within hearing distance."

Hunter nodded as he looked down at Holland's pale face. Every slayer knew that the reason none of them carried guns was because if you fired one, every wolf that heard it would come running to tear the unlucky bastard to shreds. Guns were rarely used by the military against wolves for this very reason. The only time it was ever considered was when you had a lot of guns...and ammunition...and bombs....and maybe some flame throwers...and even a few missiles. Otherwise, it's always better to keep it as quiet as possible.

"You helping or not?"

Warlock reached down and helped Hunter get her positioned over his shoulder. As they started hiking down to the road, Warlock said, "You know, I'm not one to give out compliments, but I just have to say...you did pretty good back there. I especially liked the leap from the rocks."

Hunter stopped and faced him, "You saw that?! Why didn't you step in earlier?"

"Looked like you had it under control."

Hunter turned back towards the road, shaking his head. He and Warlock had never been really close. This wasn't going to help.

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Billy pushed against the bloody fur with his toe. The shotgun had really done a number on the things head. Turning to look around, Billy wondered if maybe he should cover the carcass up for the night and bury it in the morning before the girls woke up.

The sun had finally set and the moon was rising, giving off its soft silver light. Looking back at the house, he could see Elizabeth peeking out the front window. He waved. His hand froze as he watched a large dark shapebound past the glow from the window, heading directly for him. Bringing the shotgun up, he aimed at the thing that was almost on top of him. He realized, just as he pulled the triggers, that he had not reloaded the gun. He actually had nothing to reload the gun with.

A huge paw reached out and slapped the gun out of his hands. The other paw drug its claws across his face and neck. Spinning around, Billy crashed to the ground hard. He couldn't redraw the breath that had rushed from him because the wolf had planted both of its feet in his back.

He felt claws dig into his scalp and force his head up. He was looking directly at his front door as a huge wolf crashed through, with three others following close behind the first. The sound of his wife's screams were drowned out by the ripping sound of his head being torn from his shoulders.