send the vampire on to the next place. He had a barrel of hot
lead to help him on his way. However, the vampire looked on with nothing but
bemusement. Deciding he would deal with the vampire once he had Alice out,
Squirrel stepped over to the main entrance. He took a breath, pulled open the
door and then stepped outside. The door slammed shut behind him. A metallic
scrape signalled a deadbolt slide home.
“Be careful,” Alice called
to him.
Followed by, “No wolf - no
back inside!”
He took a cautious step away
from the jailhouse. The town had gone quiet. He could see the vague outlines of
empty buildings, and the streets were deserted apart from a few rusty husks.
These forgotten vehicles had been abandoned almost a million years ago - or so
it seemed.
Immediately to Squirrel’s
left lay the slain beast. Even though the wind blew in the opposite direction,
the mechanic could still smell its rank odour, and something even more
repulsive: the stench of blood and guts.
He understood it would be
only be a matter of minutes before the smell became too intoxicating for the
hidden horde. Quickly, he crossed the open ground and reached the top of the
steps. He dropped to one knee, his eyes fixed ahead. He reached out and took
the bunch of keys. Holding them to his chest, he climbed quickly to his feet.
He heard a deep rumble come from the right. “Oh … Shit,” he breathed.
Shapes bounded past each
other, as more and more wolves took position around the mechanic. Squirrel
jammed the keys into his pocket. He aimed the shotgun towards the bloodthirsty
pack. One was about to spring. He pulled the trigger and sent it flying
backwards, scattering its brethren. More movement came from behind. He
chambered another shell, spun around, and sent another beast into perpetual
darkness. Momentarily scared by the gunshot, the fearsome creatures
disappeared. They dissolved into the night like shadows painted onto a dark
canvas.
Now, he turned his attention
to the next task at hand - the fallen wolf. He spun full circle and found two
bloodied and torn carcasses. He stood spoilt for choice for a second. Realising
it would be easier to manoeuvre the wolf underneath the window; he crossed the
short distance and dropped to his knees. He slung the weapon over his shoulder,
forced his hands under the beast’s body, and tried to lift it. The wolf was as
heavy as a diesel engine, and only slightly more pliable. At first he struggled
to get his hands between the bloodied torso and the hard ground underneath.
With his back arched he attempted to heave the beast up.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he snapped.
The thing refused to budge. He sucked in a huge lungful of air, then readied
himself and tried again. This time the wolf was downright stubborn. It didn’t
move an inch!
“Shit! Fuckin’ piece of
shit!” he cursed.
His back ached with pain and
effort. He collapsed onto the beast and lay there, breathless, like a spent
lover. He remained trapped by the beast’s affection until he’d caught his
breath, and then readied himself for a third time. This time, he concentrated
his efforts on lifting just one end of the wolf. He heaved with all his might
and managed to raise the rear half of the body. One knee quickly positioned
itself underneath to stop the body from flopping back to the ground. With
difficulty, he placed the beast’s back paws so they draped loosely over his
shoulder, then he heaved the balance of its weight up, and then, with a
tremendous effort, he pushed himself up. Using the wall as leverage he climbed
to his feet. He turned away from the wall with the wolf balanced precariously.
Suddenly, he found himself
faced with a silent audience.
Chapter
Sixteen
The party of four crossed an invisible border, leaving
the deserted highway behind them. They travelled in silence, working their way
deeper into the town. As they marched through the dark streets, they scanned
the empty shells on either side, looking for anything
lead to help him on his way. However, the vampire looked on with nothing but
bemusement. Deciding he would deal with the vampire once he had Alice out,
Squirrel stepped over to the main entrance. He took a breath, pulled open the
door and then stepped outside. The door slammed shut behind him. A metallic
scrape signalled a deadbolt slide home.
“Be careful,” Alice called
to him.
Followed by, “No wolf - no
back inside!”
He took a cautious step away
from the jailhouse. The town had gone quiet. He could see the vague outlines of
empty buildings, and the streets were deserted apart from a few rusty husks.
These forgotten vehicles had been abandoned almost a million years ago - or so
it seemed.
Immediately to Squirrel’s
left lay the slain beast. Even though the wind blew in the opposite direction,
the mechanic could still smell its rank odour, and something even more
repulsive: the stench of blood and guts.
He understood it would be
only be a matter of minutes before the smell became too intoxicating for the
hidden horde. Quickly, he crossed the open ground and reached the top of the
steps. He dropped to one knee, his eyes fixed ahead. He reached out and took
the bunch of keys. Holding them to his chest, he climbed quickly to his feet.
He heard a deep rumble come from the right. “Oh … Shit,” he breathed.
Shapes bounded past each
other, as more and more wolves took position around the mechanic. Squirrel
jammed the keys into his pocket. He aimed the shotgun towards the bloodthirsty
pack. One was about to spring. He pulled the trigger and sent it flying
backwards, scattering its brethren. More movement came from behind. He
chambered another shell, spun around, and sent another beast into perpetual
darkness. Momentarily scared by the gunshot, the fearsome creatures
disappeared. They dissolved into the night like shadows painted onto a dark
canvas.
Now, he turned his attention
to the next task at hand - the fallen wolf. He spun full circle and found two
bloodied and torn carcasses. He stood spoilt for choice for a second. Realising
it would be easier to manoeuvre the wolf underneath the window; he crossed the
short distance and dropped to his knees. He slung the weapon over his shoulder,
forced his hands under the beast’s body, and tried to lift it. The wolf was as
heavy as a diesel engine, and only slightly more pliable. At first he struggled
to get his hands between the bloodied torso and the hard ground underneath.
With his back arched he attempted to heave the beast up.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he snapped.
The thing refused to budge. He sucked in a huge lungful of air, then readied
himself and tried again. This time the wolf was downright stubborn. It didn’t
move an inch!
“Shit! Fuckin’ piece of
shit!” he cursed.
His back ached with pain and
effort. He collapsed onto the beast and lay there, breathless, like a spent
lover. He remained trapped by the beast’s affection until he’d caught his
breath, and then readied himself for a third time. This time, he concentrated
his efforts on lifting just one end of the wolf. He heaved with all his might
and managed to raise the rear half of the body. One knee quickly positioned
itself underneath to stop the body from flopping back to the ground. With
difficulty, he placed the beast’s back paws so they draped loosely over his
shoulder, then he heaved the balance of its weight up, and then, with a
tremendous effort, he pushed himself up. Using the wall as leverage he climbed
to his feet. He turned away from the wall with the wolf balanced precariously.
Suddenly, he found himself
faced with a silent audience.
Chapter
Sixteen
The party of four crossed an invisible border, leaving
the deserted highway behind them. They travelled in silence, working their way
deeper into the town. As they marched through the dark streets, they scanned
the empty shells on either side, looking for anything
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