Wolf's Blood

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Batchelor, Louisiana

“What’s going on?” Terrell’s brother, Tyson, questioned coming in on the middle of the conversation. He sat on a chair near the kitchen table, “I don’t understand.”

Hunter told him the Cliff Notes version walking him through the improbable events again. The sirens and strobe lights keeping them safe in the house, “the car battery won’t last very much longer.”

Hunter rummaged through his backpack emerging with a handful of portable powerful lights, “newer, weaker lycanthropes will be discouraged and be feeling pain from the bright intense lights we will be safe until we are rested a moment, then shore up our defenses. Who is going out there?”

Susan’s vengeful eyes were cutting holes into her husband. She very well knew Capt. Rogers handed off the job of rescuing her and Hannah to Detective Jenkins because he had to search for his ex-girlfriend. Detective Jenkins tried to distract and defuse the situation. Neither one were paying attention to Hunter.

She was too jittery from thinking about Hannah’s safety she paced about the room. Tasha’s protective nature over Hannah took over, “I will do it.”

“You will?” Hunter questioned more rhetorical in nature as he was taken by Tasha’s bravery.

“Yes…” Tasha meekly responded.

“I will give you instructions for placing them and I will protect you, but you should be fine with the sirens keeping them at bay,” Hunter handed off the lights and pumped his shotgun.

Tasha headed out the door and down the steps. She looked around for hidden predators, not finding anything she got on with the work at hand. She stuck in the lights, with Hunter’s precise instructions. She wired up the last of the floodlights to the house then stepped back to survey her work. Six lights crisscrossed the front and back of the house, four lights were on the sides. She patted the sweat from her forehead the rest of the job was up to those inside wiring the lights to the main electrical system.

“Okay, it’s done, it’s all on your end in the house,” Tasha yelled, the loud sirens were driving her nuts.

The darkening sky held no stars to speak of from the gathering low, heavy black clouds on the horizon the wind whipping up in the air. She awoke from a daze with a start from the sound of footfalls approaching cautiously; Tasha peered through the gathering darkness to find what she perceived as a dog... It was no dog, however! A large blonde hybrid Wolf with a large burn on its cheek, its muzzle twitching as it sniffed the air, approached, disregarding the pain in its ears from the sirens. It snarled as she scrambled away in fear towards the house screaming.

She was half way between the blonde wolf and the back door. She backed up as the wolf clambered towards her. The wolf came closer and closer still…enough so she could smell its putrid breath and feel the heat that it exuded. She could feel its soft fur brush against her body. This is it; she cursed herself for letting her guard down. She closed her eyes expecting to be mauled any second, she wondered if it would hurt or would she go numb before she died. Please be merciful to me! She thought in her head.

Hunter glanced out the door after directing Jacobs to his job to find a horrible sight. Tasha and a monstrous blonde wolf were practically intertwined with one another. He drew up his shotgun and tried to get a bead on the wolf. He cursed in frustration; he couldn’t get a good shot without a chance of wounding the girl. He pointed his shotgun to the sky and fired a warning shot. She protected her ears as the report that rang off made her ears ring, but it was loud enough to spook the blonde wolf who jumped away from Tasha and ran toward the alleyway.

“Get in here!” Hunter hoarsely yelled, ordering her to the house by waving his hands frantically.

“Come inside!” The second figure this time Tyson yelled, though he was clutching Hunter’s waist for protection.

She got up on her knees from the grass running toward the back door. They wrenched the screen door open and before she went in she turned her head to see the blonde wolf pacing back and forth in the alleyway.

“We’ve got a problem here!” Susan yelled, staring out another window.

She peeked through the curtains to see three bipedal lupine creatures at the end of the street staring directly at the patrol car. Their long pointed ears visibly hurting from the shrill siren sounds. They were communicating orders in rumbles, snarls, growls and yaps to another shirtless lunatic, human in feature save for his glowing eyes, fangs and talon-like claws.

The shirtless lunatic lurched forward leaping on all four limbs and running across the street. He tore the rack of revolving lights off the car. The lights fell onto the windshield cracking the glass, bolts and washers falling on the grass. He growled in satisfaction heading toward the hood ripping through the flimsy sheet metal like a can opener.

“He is trying to destroy the sirens!” Someone in the house warned Hunter.

The lunatic was successful and the sound of the sirens stopped suddenly as he cut the wires to the battery. He shook off the painful dizziness in his head a big sigh of relief came from the lunatic his ears needing a rest from the loud whining. He leaped onto the porch and beat on the front door with his fists.

“Once the sirens are out he is going to get in here!” Hannah yelled. Her arms wrapped tight around Terrell in fear.

The relentless loud knocking had stopped but a form appeared in the bay window cast in shadow by the draperies. A loud crash startled the group as jagged glass fell to the floor. The curtains whipped wildly back and forth in the wind. Kids screamed and Hannah began sobbing.

The lunatic burst inside the house. The balls of his feet were firmly planted on the shag carpet; they were enlarging, filthy and barefoot. The lunatic snarled as he lunged grabbing for the small girl dressed in a red riding hood outfit first. Hunter knew from the lunatic’s eyes that he didn’t have to waste a silver bolt to put him down. Hunter lowered his shotgun cursing because now Hannah was blocking his shot.

“He is still partially human! He could be stopped with regular bullets! Anyone with a clear shot, take it!” Hunter yelled advancing.

Capt. Rogers and Detective Jenkins both fired their guns; one bullet hit him in the chest and one in the head. For a moment the lunatic still stood upright and both were prepared to shoot the lunatic again until he staggered and fell to the ground. Susan had scooped up Hannah who cowered in a ball.

“The new ones can be killed with ordinary bullets,” Hunter said to no one in particular more for the information purposes, “modern embalming practices are a good way to stop any regeneration that may occur.”

Hunter went into action. He cut his head off with a survival knife then sprinkled white phosphorus all over his body. The white phosphorus looked like it exploded blazing up in the living room.

Hunter turned to the group and said, “Of course, cutting their heads off and burning the hell out of them works too, better safe than sorry!”

The Wolf-things could smell the burning flesh of their pack mate. With the bay window broken and the sirens turned off the hairy beasts cautiously entered Tasha’s yard. Their skin had stretched thin to accommodate the growth in skeletal and cartilage tissue in their mouth and cheeks; they had enlarged nostrils and flattened noses. Their skin had become almost transparent revealing engorged muscles the jaw swollen becoming slack-jawed, tight skin curled up even further revealing bleeding gums that accommodated a mouth full of fangs when they snarled.

The Wolf-things were stopped at the threshold of the house, as a corpse consumed in fire was tossed into the yard, the only thing keeping them out was the flames but it was all but a skeleton now and it was smoldering.

“I almost got it!” Dr. Jacobs’ excitedly exclaimed from the utility room at the end of the hallway. Per Hunter’s instructions he had just one more wire to connect and he was done.

The world brightened as floodlights and mirrors positioned so they magnified the light 5000 lumen came to life, enough light that with her eyes still closed Tasha could still see it. The motley crew heard a pitiful yelp from the Wolf-things. They shook their lupine-human heads in unison and closed their eyes while backing off of the house from the intense lights.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe my eyes! The crazy old tales of Halloween are true!” Tasha exclaimed.

“No, no the date, this is just coincidental… though the beings are supernatural straight out of myth and folklore.” Hunter had Tasha’s undivided attention, “…They are the lycanthropes; werewolves are coming out of the shadows and blatantly attacking humanity.”

Tasha’s head swam from all the unbelievable information in her head, cottonmouth setting in she needed a drink. A sickening feeling came over her and unbelievable as it seemed now she worried something awful had befallen her brother. She imagined her brother getting mauled by a monster. Was he attacked by these creatures too? Tasha thought as she turned on the kitchen faucet for a drink.

“What the…?” from the corner of her eye Tasha thought she saw out the window the blonde Wolf staring at her from the alleyway.

The blonde Wolf visibly hurt by the sudden and powerful light rubbed its eyes with its paws, a human like reaction Tasha thought, then bolted behind the garage casting protective shadows for the Wolf whose cunning familiar eyes squinted at the dazzling house with an almost humanlike contemplation, as if thinking what to do next.

Latoya, Tyson’s girlfriend had her back against the wall. Her eyes were wide and she clutched her useless cell phone in her sweaty hands. Terrell peeked out the back door, his arm still around Hannah for comfort. The blonde Wolf was still there looking intently up at the electric pole.

Tyson popped his head out for a look, “That fucker! It’s looking at the line that comes into the house.” Tyson had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s like he’s thinking!”

Tyson motioned for the Tasha to look out the window as he dug around in the pockets of his baggy pants to retrieve something. Tasha pulled the curtains back even further to get a closer view of the scene in the brilliant circle of absolute light that protected the house.

“Tyson, what are you doing?” Latoya cried.

Tasha was horrified when she realized Tyson pulled out a silver automatic handgun. He slid the magazine out of the 9 mm assured it had a full clip then he slid the magazine back in again with a snap.

The gun looked menacing, weighing heavily in his hand. In truth he hadn’t shot a gun in his life the gun felt foreign to him. He just felt at ease having it on him when he was managing a show, or during a crisis, for protection.

“There’s something in its eyes, something’s just not right! It’s thinking… I know it, it’s up to something, and I know it’s crazy but I feel it!” Tyson shouted. With the bright lights protecting Tyson he headed out the back storm door with the gun in hand, pushing past his little brother.

The howls of the blonde wolf began; an eerie symphony of higher then deep octaves, an unnerving sound, and a sound of foreboding. Stopping and then starting again like an animal version of Morse code, until his howls were answered. Three wolves were talking now in a language foreign to man.

Bobby and Terry mindlessly came running; two burn-out high school drop outs, now lunatics as the parasite transforming them almost completely into two hybrid wolf-things. Long bipedal forms with shredded clothing, long pointed ears, full of fur head to paws, and they had heard the blonde wolf’s calls. Though the two wolf-things were bigger Kevin exuded eccentric pheromones that the wolf-things’ absorbed in their olfactory system mimicking strength and leadership that the weaker willed have to obey. The blonde wolf pushed at the electrical pole, it didn’t budge. The blonde wolf hung his head down seemingly in defeat. Then the blonde wolf barked out orders to the others.

Bobby, a wolf-thing with vacant eyes, and Terry’s wolf-thing with its slobbering fangs, and the original blonde wolf, all dug feverishly at the ground next to the electric pole. Blonde fur turned brown as they dug into the Earth. A dirt cloud dusted over the relentless hybrid-wolves. It took just five minutes to reveal the moist dark brown underbelly of the submerged pole. A few minutes more and the electric pole quivered, unsteady now with no support from the earth.

Tyson could hear the conversational yelps and growls from the three wolves in the relative safety of the lighted backyard but curiosity got the better of him and with an unsteady hand he closed in on the wolves.

“What are you doing?” Tasha yelled at him from the safety of the kitchen. She was losing her mind.

Tasha laughed hysterically, only hours ago all she had to worry about was the freshness of the coffee and now she had to keep Hannah and her friends safe from supernatural rabid wolves! She then crouched down by the table, hidden beside the kitchen island that acted as a shield between her and the world outside. She tried desperately not to hyperventilate as her helplessness over whelmed her.

Tyson put a finger to his lips as he looked back at everybody in the house watching, the universal sign to be quiet, then looked on in horror as the blonde wolf stopped digging, turned from the pole pacing as if measuring the distance then turned to face the pole again. Tyson glanced at the pole, the house wires, and then the pole again. He cursed because he knew; it’s cutting off the power from the house!

The red and brown wolves stood back as the blonde wolf dug in its paws and sprinted toward the now precariously perched electrical pole. The wolf ran at the pole going full speed. The wolf didn’t stop until its shoulder impacted in the low center with a Wham! The Wolf shook his head dazed from the impact and then ran toward the pole again, Wham! Now the pole was at a 60° angle and the electrical wires to the house now taunt connections groaned as if any minute they would snap.

“They’re trying to cut off the lights to the house! Everybody try all the phones again, landline and cell phone!” His voice was audibly quivering.

“If the power goes out we have to leave or we are sitting ducks.” Hunter said.

Both Detective Jenkins and Capt. Rogers agreed.

“I think I know a place.” Hunter said matter-of-factly.

“We have to get everyone ready in case we need to move quickly!”

Tasha hesitantly got up from her hiding place and realizing Latoya was not in the room sprinted toward the hallway looking for her. She turned in to her brother’s bedroom to her right but she was nowhere to be found. She then preceded left to her room all the while the thumbs working frantically on the buttons on her cell phone, but it was empty as well.

“Dammit Latoya, where are you?” Her voice was a mixture of trepidation and frustration with two doors left, her parent’s bedroom and the bathroom, she headed toward the open bathroom door where she saw Latoya clutching the toilet, the stress and excitement had gotten the better of her. She prayed to the porcelain god, about to pass out on her knees, dry heaves wracking her body.

The blonde wolf, Kevin, was pleased by the progress he and Bobby and Terry, the Wolf-things, had made with the electrical pole. The utility pole now leaned down just enough that he could walk on it with four legs. The wires stretched to the breaking point so that if he stressed the pole just a little bit more something will have to give way. Breaking the circuits and with that the accursed circle of blinding light so he can get into the house. A little further and sparks began to light up the night sky.

Ear splitting crackle and crash could be heard in the house that sounded like lightning striking a huge Oak tree as it fell hitting the forest floor so violently it scared the wildlife miles away. The power went out.

Now they were blind, forced into sudden darkness.

“You fuckers!” Tyson cursed blindly taking potshots at the Wolfthings until one of them howled out in pain, “Ha-ha I got one!”

Terry the Wolf thing had been wounded gravely in the chest and abdomen. He spontaneously and involuntarily began transforming into a pale and bloody adolescent again, then immediately collapsed. Bobby gingerly scooped his wounded friend up and belted out a sorrowful howl as he left in the cover of darkness, leaving Kevin alone.

More glowing animalistic eyes had materialized in the darkness. Some figures were on all fours, figures that lurched, hunchbacked, knuckles dragging to the ground and figures looking like men but their glowing eyes gave them away. Those who had tails wagged them in anticipation. Tyson immediately retreated back inside. It seemed like eerie howls of victory could be heard from those that circled the house effectively trapping them in. Hunter could see several glowing eyes slowly lumbering closer to the house. Think quickly, he told himself, or all would be lost. The Devils would overrun the house. Then suddenly a light bulb went on in his head.

“I have a helicopter at False River airport if we can make it over there,” Hunter explained shooing them all into the claustrophobic hallway toward the garage door.

They heard the back door shatter and scuttling large paws in the kitchen, the Wolf-things almost upon them. The group consisting of Tasha, Terrell, Tyson, Latoya, Hannah, who was in the protective arms of her mother Susan, Detective Jenkins, Capt. Rogers and Dr. Jacobs all funneled into the hallway ahead of Hunter. They could see several glowing yellow, green and red eyes in the murky darkness as Hunter turned around to face the horde as Tasha turned on the light to her useless cell phone and hurriedly opened the garage door.

Hunter searched through a burlap sack and took out a fist full of copper coins flinging them in the air in an arc. Their time to flee started to count down when the coins hit the ground. The Wolf-men were forced to stop their twisted lupine heads turning away from the group and down to the shiny coins where they sniffed and counted them one by one.

Hunter turned around to see Tyson staring at him, he shrugged and said, “Yeah don’t waste the shots or silver bullets on the young changelings, if you throw out copper coins they will feel a compelling force to acknowledge and count each and every one of them.”

With shaking hands, she searched using her smart phone for a flashlight for the keys to the minivan in her purse while she opened the adjoining garage door. She had never been so relieved to see the trusted minivan in the garage.

“I think I can make it out!” Tasha exclaimed as she peeked outside from the garage door window.

The torn up vehicle in the driveway and the torn up patrol car in the grass did not give Tasha much room to maneuver out to the street, but she was confident that she could make it. Everybody piled into the van and it was a tight fit but everybody made it. Tasha turned around one last time to see if everybody made it in.

“Hold on everyone!” Tasha warned as she dropped it into gear and stepped on the gas.

Tasha didn’t even bother to wait for the garage door to finish going up, the van busted out the garage door, bending the aluminum frame and splintering the siding in its wake as the van headlights pierced the night sky. She barely missed scraping the front left fender of Susan’s car then cut the wheel almost hitting the squad car head on before she maneuvered safely onto the street with a bump and a screech of tires.

The wind started blowing and the rains fell down gently at first, then an onslaught as rain like pebbles fell down onto the pavement and bouncing up again as if it looked like the rain came from in both directions at once.

“Oh shit!” Tyson cursed, He couldn’t be sure because of the sudden downpour but he thought he saw glowing eyes following them.

The group heard a loud rumbling sound like a freight train coming straight for them and a violent shaking forced Tasha to press on the brakes, she asked quivering, “Was that an earthquake?”

“Why yes, yes, it was! In fact I think we’re experiencing aftershocks!” Hunter immediately turned on the radio but was rewarded with static, “Damn! Something is messing up the radio signal!”

Static then a chorus of howling, “St. Louis…” Incessant howling again, then, “New Madrid fault line…” Another bout of static then rhythmic howling, “The National Guard has been alerted but they are slow to deploy due to the unexpected hurricane in the Gulf Coast region… Meteorological phenomenon that has the community…” Then static again as Hunter turned the knobs trying to get a better signal.

“I think I see it!” Hannah blurted out loudly pointing past the perimeter fence to the tower in the distance.

“Thank God,” Susan prayed, “we can get out of here!”

Tasha smiled relief her hand reached over to Susan’s hand to comfort her. Her color had drained from her face and her nervous smile was frozen on her face. Tasha could barely see the road with the power outage and onslaught of rain she didn’t see the padlocked chain link gate until it was too late.

“Shit, look out!” Tasha warned as she stomped on the gas.

The chain link fence gave way with only a little resistance. Detective Jenkins patted her on the back and complemented her, “way to go, that’s some impressive driving!”

“I have a chopper in Hangar three; it is just a little ways past the tower. We can get out of here.” Hunter offered, trying to see through the fog.

The group collectively sighed in relief; turning onto a street called “Tower Road” and on to the hangars where the helicopter had been stowed away.

They headed toward False River Airport, a small airport with only three hangars that housed around twenty aircrafts, most of which were Cessna’s and other private mid-sized to small crafts. With the storm moving in there would be minimal personnel let alone with the chaos going on to deal with the headache of explaining the unbelievable situation they found themselves in needing to flee.

An aftershock had the van veering off the road as fissures appeared in the asphalt. The front left tire exploded as it dropped into the sudden open crack leaving only the rim.

“Shit!” Tasha cursed; she stepped on the gas, a lurch from the van but no forward movement.

“That’s okay, the hangars are just the length of a football field or so away and we can walk from here as long as you all don’t mind the rain!” Latoya pointed out.

“She’s right.” Susan and Tasha answered in unison to each other.

One by one they all filed out of the van and out into the torrent. Dr. Jacobs stopped legs halfway between the asphalt and the van to look out at the horizon. He could smell the pack quickly advancing toward them. What was worse is he felt a stirring in his gut. He almost passed out from the increasing pressure in his jaw. The terrible hunger threatened to twist his body in knots, an urge he couldn’t explain.

“Hey, uh Hunter, isn’t it? I don’t think we can make it all the way to the chopper!” Detective Jenkins pointed toward Hangar three.

Hunter peered out into the rain to see murky shadows of an extremely large Wolf pack guarding the hangar. He reached to retrieve a pair of binoculars from his inside jacket pocket. He adjusted the binoculars until he could see the wolves clearly. One particularly large wolf with a large deep gash in the front limbs where he had escaped from the barbed wire fence had stood up. The Wolf, an alpha by the other wolves’ actions watched them in earnest.

“Quick, we have to do something, the loup-garoux, I smell them and they are really close!” Dr. Jacobs warned Hunter.

Hunter pressed Dr. Jacobs’ cheeks with his callused hands. He forced Jacobs’ head around to get a good look at his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and dilated; Hunter proceeded to inspect his teeth. Dr. Jacobs’ gums were profusely bleeding, down to his hands where his fingernails were thicker, growing and bleeding too.

“You’re infected…” Hunter looked into the doctors eyes, shocked.

“I know…” The Dr. acknowledged quietly, clenching his jaw.

“Well, that is rather impressive. You have to be struggling to hide the infection. You have a strong mind but you’ll eventually be hungry as the parasite progresses through you and needs sustenance,” Hunter matter-of-factly explained, “you need to eat or the hunger is going to overtake you… that’s why the lycanthropes attack man, it’s the easy prey, they are plentiful and unsuspecting and ignorant… When the hunger comes upon you, your rational, logical mind is hazy.” he reached into his pocket for what looked like an energy bar.

“Listen, I can tell from your eyes, you’re not an evil person, this will help with the hunger so you can think straight,” Hunter unwrapped and offered the energy bar to Dr. Jacobs knowing it was loaded with protein and iron, “and for the time being this will keep the beast satisfied.” Hunter adjusted his binoculars to physically count the wolves guarding his hangar.

“With the Wolf pack guarding the hangar I’m afraid we’re not getting to the chopper any time soon. We have to get to the tower before the werewolves are upon us,” Hunter shook his head in frustration.

Dr. Jacobs could see clearly through the rain with his new sight. There were more werewolves coming and he could smell the leader of it all, he was close, “I’m afraid I might be losing the battle for sanity, I can help you before…in case I change, stall some of the werewolves so the group can make it to the tower and maybe kill the alpha that’s responsible for all of this before I lose my fight for my soul.”

Hunter protested until he thought about his situation in life. He had been bitten and the curse or blessing however you may perceive it had turned his life around. From a little-known farmer he had become the fevered Hunter, the slayer of the children of the night.

“You then,” Hunter stuck a knife, gun, and finally two grenades into the palms of his hands. “Make them bleed! The grenades are white phosphorus so use them as a last resort if you get close to the alpha. I will be protecting the group and getting them to safety.”

The doctor nodded, accepted the gifts, and then ran off to intercept the oncoming beasts before they caught the group. Running as a tight group they made it safely to the tower. Capt. Rogers got there first but found it locked. An electronic lock pick in well-trained hands Capt. Rogers unlocked the door in record time. Several drenched rats that escaped from the rising waters of the underground sewer system just to become trapped in the tower fled at the first sign of light. Glowing red eyes could be seen their bodies twitching the bloody rain saturating their fur as they disappeared into the tall grass.

Tasha, Susan, Hannah and Latoya stopped before they got to the stairwell as if the darkness blocked them from progressing any further.

“The power is out in the tower as well!” Terrell shrieked.

“Don’t worry little brother; I saw a generator just outside. We will have power in no time.” Tyson said with a nervous smile.

“There is still nothing coming, I think we are safe for the time being,” Detective Jenkins said, but the ghost of his son shook his head glancing in and out.

“Okay, okay,” Hunter comforted the group, “head upstairs, all of us stay together, I’ll lead us to higher ground. Maybe we will be able to assess the situation better.”

Tyson walked back outside and pressed the binoculars that he borrowed from Hunter up to his eyes. He saw two nude gravely injured forms just on the other side from the chain link fence.

“Will shit, I think the Doc actually got the fuckers!” It was the Doc against several beasts, but it looked as though he killed them, he thought.

There wasn’t any more interest from the wolves at Hangar three, either. He put his hands on the wall as if the tower was a lifeboat and he’d be lost at sea without it, and circled the tower until he found the generator.

Tyson dropped to one knee and pulled the drawstring to the 10,000 Watt, 4-Cycle gas powered portable Generator. It started and then sputtered out. He pulled the drawstring again. It sputtered then steadily roared to life. He looked up at the dark windows and still silent sound sirens.

“Dammit! The lights still don’t work, must be the breakers somewhere in the basement!” Tyson cursed turning around.

He heard a roar then suddenly was thrown off his feet and onto the ground the wind knocked from his lungs. A man-beast had broken off from the struggle with Dr. Jacobs and the others and ran off when he caught the smell of Tyson, an easy meal.

Tyson could have seen the human features in its face but he was too busy staring at his enormous fangs. After he caught his breath he struggled to pull up his knees against his chest and pushed with all his might.

“Get off me!” With an audible oomph the beast was hoisted up off the ground with his feet. He pulled out his gun and began to fire blindly while he scrambled a retreat back to the tower.

He stopped shooting when the beast fell he held his breath for several moments intently watching the fallen beast. Tyson swore to himself if the beast even flinched, he would unload the whole clip until it was on its ass! Several moments went by, however, without a movement building up his confidence enough to let his eyes off of the monster and walk back to the tower’s doors.

He trolled around the basement in search of an electrical box until he came upon a door with a sign saying “Maintenance”. Tyson swung his fist in the air, his other hand still clutching his warm 9 mm, “That’s more like it!”

Searching for what felt like an eternity in the dark Tyson finally found the electrical box, putting his gun in his jeans and opened it.

“Shit!” His hopes were dashed for an easy fix. When he realized that instead of circuit breakers which he could have easily tripped the airport still used fuses, “You gotta be kidding me! I thought it was a violation of some kind of code to have these ancient things still in there.”

Tyson would not be deterred though, searching for fuses in drawer after drawer feeling his way around. Boxes of washers, screws and nails hit the floor as Tyson rummaged through to find fuses, like looking for a needle in the proverbial haystack, Tyson scoffed. He had an idea hit him and stopped rummaging through the boxes and ran outside into the rain. He had fired three or four shots at the monster before it went down. Brass casings are conductors and he could use the casings to connect broken fuses!

Tyson groaned as he bent down to pick up the shells his mind racing with a plan. The floor had a familiar balance to it with many years of maintenance in his belt he knew that there was an ergonomic rubber mat. The mat could be used as a natural resistor in electrical flow. Confident with his well-thought-out plan he stood up when a cold chill ran through him. Tyson’s head whipped around back and forth in search for a body that apparently had got up and walked away.

“Oh fuck!” Instantly he was filled with worry and stress for his little brother’s safety. He had to stick the fuses in and get up to the top of the tower to protect him in case the monster was to return.

He ran for the safety of the tower every inch feeling like an eternity and flung open the door running back downstairs to the maintenance room. He flipped open his pocket knife and cut a 4 x 4 piece of rubber, just big enough to protect his hand while trying to put the shells into the fuse box. He positioned the rubber slice with three brass casings still holding the pocket knife and opened the box.

The wounded beast burst through the basement maintenance door, leaving only splinters in its wake. It startled Tyson, prompting him to drop the knife from his hand. It still had monstrous features, but he recognized the torn clothing and two bullet holes yet to heal oozing blackened blood. It no longer had a humanoid face. It no longer had a human head at all as the infection rapidly progressed in the body. It looked like an amalgamated Wolf form with an extended muzzle, exaggerated fangs, and with a long thick neck and true lupine head.

“No! That’s impossible. I shot you, you bastard!” And with that he fired on the beast several more times.

The wounded Wolf-thing howled in pain, but it did not stop it from tackling Tyson to the ground. It looked down at its wounded body in surprise, but the beast did not stop from swiping Tyson’s thigh with its enormous claws severing important nerves to his legs.


The rubber strip and casings slipped from Tyson’s bloody hand but he managed to pick up two of the shell casings on the ground in the darkness, “I beat you before, I will beat you again! You are not gonna get your filthy claws on my little brother!”

Tyson managed to drag himself to the fuse box despite his paralyzed leg just as fangs bore down on his exposed neck. He stuck the brass casings into the empty hole like they were a square peg in a round hole, forcing in to the fuse box with his sweaty palm. Broken circuits connecting the lights began to flicker at first, and then a steady hum as the lights brightened all over the tower.

The last sound Tyson heard was the emergency sirens start up and he could smell burnt fur and cooking flesh. He smiled as his heart went into arrest. At least his brother would be safe. The sirens blared from the airport tower keeping the beasts at bay for a while longer. It began to rain down blood. The blood was the color of crimson. In stained the cars, houses, trailers, and shacks of Louisiana.

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