Werewolf Apocalypse: Rise of the Lycans

The Crimson Crossfire

SPANG-SPANG-SPANG!

Silver-jacketed rounds sparked violently off the rusted iron pipe inches from my knuckles as I clamped my left hand around it, the rushing current yanking at my waist like a freight train.

I wished Clara was strong enough to move completely on her, our escape would have been smoother, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. My shoulder screamed as my full weight plus Clara’s, snapped tight against the wet metal. Hanging right over the roaring black lip of the underground waterfall, I twisted my body sideways, pressing Clara flat against the slick limestone recess beneath the catwalk’s overhang.

"Keep your head down!" I roared over the deafening thunder of the falls and the rapid thwip-thwip-thwip of silenced gunfire and Clara ducked weakly.

Above us on the rusted steel catwalk spanning the chasm, four chalk-pale Crimson Synod operatives in matte-black tactical gear leaned over the railing, their crimson laser sights sweeping through the mist to lock onto my chest.

"Target pinned at the ledge," the squad leader’s synthesized voice crackled through his helmet speaker. "Switch to tranquilizer rounds. Lord Cassian wants the Priestly vessel alive."

With nowhere to go, I could see the look of grim satisfaction on their faces lit by the greenlight of the masks they had on. Behind us was a fifty-foot drop into pitch-black abyssal water and above us were four armed vampires ready to turn me into a pincushion.

Then, from the dark aqueduct tunnel behind us, came a sound that made the hair on my neck stand straight up.

GRRRR-RAAAAH!

Three massive subterranean wolves burst out of the rushing water like black missiles. Blinded by bloodlust and hunting my scent, they didn't even slow down at the waterfall’s edge, they just launched themselves straight upward onto the steel catwalk with a giant CRASH!

I didn't even know whether I should be thankful for their arrival or even more terrified at being faced by two opposing forces.

Steel groaned and buckled under a thousand pounds of predatory muscle. One of the vampires barely got a shot off before a pair of bone-crushing jaws clamped down on his armored shoulder, tearing him off the railing and sending both beast and vampire plummeting into the black chasm below.

"Hostiles on the span! Alpha pack!" a vampire screamed, switching to full-auto silver fire.

Muzzle flashes strobed violently through the mist as claws tore through tactical armor and silver bullets shredded dark fur. Blood from both the thick black vampire ichor and steaming crimson wolf blood, rained down from the catwalk into the rushing water beside us.

Now was time!

While they tore each other apart overhead, I swung my legs sideways through the waist-deep current, dragging Clara along the slick stone wall toward a narrow, three-foot-wide maintenance crawlspace set behind a broken concrete sluice gate.

BANG!

A stray silver round ricocheted off the stone arch just as I shoved Clara inside, tearing a hot, agonizing furrow straight across my left shoulder.

I bit down on my tongue to swallow a scream, painfully hauling myself into the cramped, pitch-dark concrete tunnel and pulling the rusted sluice grate shut behind us just as a wolf’s heavy carcass slammed down onto the ledge outside.

For five seconds, the only sound inside the tight space was our ragged, echoing breathing and the muffled chaos of the firefight roaring beyond the grate.

"Leo..." Clara’s voice trembled in the dark. Warm, shaking hands reached out, finding my wet chest and sliding up to my bleeding left shoulder. She gasped when her fingers came away slick and hot. "You're hit. You're bleeding!"

"It's just a graze," I wheezed, leaning my forehead against the damp concrete wall, my right palm still throbbing with a dull, fading heat. "Stay quiet. Don't move."

I expected her to panic, curl up and shake like she had in the altar room, to my thankful surprise, I saw quite the opposite. I heard the sharp rip of wet fabric in the dark.

Before I could protest, Clara shifted closer on her knees and wrapped a torn strip of her shirt tightly around my bleeding shoulder and pulling the knot firm with steady, determined hands. Her breathing was still fast, and terrified, but the helpless, dazed fog in her voice was completely gone.

"I'm not letting you carry me through the dark anymore, Leo," she whispered fiercely, her fingers gripping my good arm. "Tell me where we're going, and I'll walk."

Relief hit me so hard, I could feel my throat tightened in thanks. I reached out in the dark, cupping the side of her face with my uninjured hand. "We find a way up to the surface streets, get clear of the historic district, and—"

Clara suddenly went rigid against my palm.

A sharp, strangled gasp tore out of her throat and her hands flew up to the side of her neck, right over the pale, crescent-shaped scar where the First Altar had burned away the bite.

"Clara?" I whispered urgently, leaning in close. "What is it? Is the fever coming back?"

"No... it's cold," she breathed, her voice shaking with sudden, sheer terror as her eyes widened in the gloom. "The scar... it's freezing cold, Leo. Like ice."

She grabbed my face with both hands, her fingernails digging into my cheeks as she stared past me into the solid concrete wall as if she were looking straight through the stone.

"I can see them," Clara whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm not in my own head, Leo. I'm looking through his eyes... the giant black wolf from the shaft."

My blood turned to ice. "Vane? What is he doing?"

"He just dropped into the aqueduct behind the vampire squad," she gasped, trembling violently as she forced the words out. "He's tearing them apart... and he's sniffing the water. Leo, the mark on my neck is acting like a beacon. He knows we're inside the wall."

"Will we ever have a break?!" I asked in painful exasperation.