Knife in one hand, Thompson in the other, Earl kept on fighting as the tractor’s cab was covered in bodies and reaching claws. He moved from window to window, continuously shooting or reloading, on a violent reactionary autopilot. Their course had been set, Aino had aimed them right for the entrance, and now with his hands free he took up Heather’s shotgun and opened fire. They were a raft floating in a sea of undead monsters. The tommy gun was smoking hot as Earl dropped his final drum and switched to stick mags. The cab floor was filled with spent brass.
Antifreeze and oil were spilling from punctures along the engine cover. Claws ripped through their tires. A particularly agile vulkodlak grabbed the rotating tread and rode the tire up to the cab’s level. It had been a girl, once. She latched on to the driver’s seat and pulled herself inside. A split second before she reached Aino, Earl drove his knife through her head, grabbed a handful of ponytail, and hurled the vulkodlak back out the window.
They crashed into the main crowd with an incomprehensible ripping sound. Earl looked up just in time to see the blades impact the packed-in mass of the vulkodlak pressed against the gymnasium entryway. A sea of white eyes and snapping teeth was fed into the tearing blades, but with walls on both sides, there was nowhere for the vulkodlak to escape. The scoop barely fit between the brick walls. Hundreds of the monsters were trapped.
It was disturbing, even by professional Monster Hunter standards. Earl couldn’t look away. The vulkodlak were simply consumed, like wheat in front of a combine. Some made it over the top of the steel scoop, usually missing their legs, only to flip over to end up under the tires.
The tractor lurched and groaned as the scoop was packed with vulkodlak. “Gotta put her in low.” Aino dropped the shotgun and got back into the driver’s seat. The snow-cutter engine groaned as gallons of red material and rags were pumped out the spout and sprayed against the gym walls. It came splashing through the broken windows.
“That is…amazing,” Earl said as his safety glasses were hit with spatter. A claw slashed wildly through the bottom of the door, forcing Earl to turn his attention back to keeping them alive. He stomped it with his boot until he was positive that every bone was broken.
It was a painful, gradual approach as the tractor inched forward. The vulkodlak ahead of them scrambled, pushing themselves up the walls to escape, only to be sucked back down as the creatures below them turned into hamburger and were belched out the spout. The ones in the front tried to break through the barricades with renewed frenzy, but they were ineffectual under the crush of bodies behind them.
At the rear of the tractor, the remaining creatures were gathering, slashing at the already shredded tires and scrambling up the bumper. Earl wasted a dozen rounds on one before he realized it was wearing MCB armor and switched to carving its head apart. The dead MCB agent went over the side, but there were too many others at the rear to drop with small-arms fire alone. “Fire in the hole!” Earl shouted as he threw a pair of grenades out the back window. The twin explosions shredded many of the remaining creatures.
The vulkodlak were as savage as any undead Earl had ever encountered, but they weren’t stupid. They knew when to regroup. The crowd behind the tractor broke and fled.
At the front, the last of the trapped vulkodlak was sucked into the blades. The barricade was clear. Aino stood up for a better view over the scoop. “That’s all of ’em.” And not a second too soon, because their engine was spitting and hissing, and several warning lights were flashing on the dash.
The cab was entirely filled with cold, wet, gore. The air tasted like blood, and Earl coughed as he tried to breathe against the haze. “Throw her in reverse,” he ordered.
They backed over the crunchy remains behind them. Earl scanned for threats but couldn’t spot anything that seemed worth shooting. Aino put the clutch in, and they rolled to a wet stop, engine rumbling, blades slowing and coming to a stop. The only movement came from the continued twitching of the many severed limbs. Blood dripped from the cab’s ceiling, covered every surface, and formed shell-casing filled puddles on the floor. The brick corridor leading to the front door was greased with a substance that could best be described as mush. Everything in a large circle around them had been painted a sloppy red, and the snow was a discolored pink for another hundred feet past that.
Earl tried to find some part of his body that was not covered in blood to wipe the safety glasses on but finally gave up and tossed the glasses out the window. Aino shut off the engine, and the tractor gurgled its last. After the mechanical noise and the gunfire, the night seemed abnormally quiet. The only sound was the hissing of air escaping from their punctured tires. Even the snow had stopped falling.
“You know, I’ve been doing this kind of thing a long time.…” Earl pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Thankfully, at least it wasn’t red. “I’ve got to say that this is the single nastiest thing I’ve ever seen. And trust me, brother, I’ve seen some crazy shit in my day. Smoke?”
“Yup.” Aino surveyed the carnage. Earl was impressed that the old man didn’t need to puke. They built them tough up here in the frozen north. “So, this is what saving the day feels like, eh?”
“Something like that. Welcome to the exciting world of professional monster hunting. Usually not quite so…messy. Well, it’s always messy, but we’ve reached a whole ’nother level on this one.”
* * *
It would be dawn soon. The storm was wearing off. The energy used to disrupt local communications was weakening. It was only a matter of time before the MCB found out what they’d done here, and there would be hell to pay. It had been nearly twenty years since this level of supernatural carnage had been inflicted on American soil. The MCB would surely react with overwhelming force.
Yet, the Alpha wasn’t even slightly worried.
Lucinda Hood had mustered her courage and descended into Shaft Six. The Alpha had been surprised to see her come down into the dark. The witch stank with fear, and it wasn’t the nervous anxiety of earlier: it was actual terror, and it was because of him. “Somehow they’ve killed most of your bloody vulkodlak. It’s stupid to stick around,” she shouted. “This is madness!”
“Fulfilling a destiny isn’t madness,” the Alpha corrected. There was no way he could be upset with her. Her pathetic senses couldn’t see what his could. Even her new god was less than what he was becoming. “We’ll leave in plenty of time, but there’s one last thing to do. He’s coming for me.”
“Who?” Lucinda asked, confused. “Who’s coming for you?”
The amulet had whispered that there was one last challenge to be faced before he was complete. It had become more aware as he’d fed it souls, until it had begun to communicate freely. The spirit of the forerunner was restless, but after being kept dormant by Koshei for so long, it had to know that he was worthy of all its gifts. “I don’t know,” he said simply. “But he’ll be here soon. I’ll prove myself worthy. Then we’ll go.”
“Worthy? Harbinger killed Petrov. You killed Harbinger. Who else is there? There are only a handful of other werewolves of their caliber, and none anywhere near here.”
“Petrov is alive. I can smell him. Maybe he’s the one, maybe not.” Despite the fact that his senses were ridiculously acute, the clues were more confusing about Harbinger. He would surely know if there was another Alpha out there, and he’d seen Harbinger die, the spirit ripped right out of his body, and used to feed the amulet.…Yet there was a strangeness in the air, almost like a shadow of Harbinger was lingering.
There was only one other werewolf in range that didn’t belong to the pack, but created by one of his line just this very night, an anomaly caused by the mad fluctuations of the amulet. A woman, and she had the blood of the thieving Finn, but also something else, something odd about her scent. Could it be her? The idea was absurd; she was too inexperienced to be a threat.
At this very moment the female was watching this place from the shelter of the forest, thinking that her presence was unknown. The Alpha had assumed that she had been driven by instinct to come begging for a place in the pack, but instead she’d just stayed there, observing. Perhaps she was frightened to come down. Maybe she understood how he’d fed on his own pack earlier, but he was satisfied now. With the bloodlust past, she would have been safe enough. He was feeling merciful. Yet, though there was a hint of fear on the mystery woman, there was far more resolve.
Lucinda continued to plead with him, but the witch could never hope to comprehend what the amulet wanted. Since putting it on, his understanding had continually increased. He knew now for sure that this was the item used to create the very first of his kind. It was not alive, it was not intelligent, but it had been programmed to search for someone worthy. Now it was telling him all that remained was to confirm he was truly the one. That meant facing one last unknown challenger.
The Alpha had learned about the amulet from intel gathered by the original Operation Unicorn during the Second World War. It had been far before his time, but he had read the OSS reports detailing the mysterious Koschei and his mysterious abilities. It wasn’t until archeologists had uncovered the bones of the forerunner that he’d come to understand his mission in life. The MCB had seized the forerunner’s remains, but not before word had spread to his own organization. The first time he’d touched the bones, he’d known. The spirit of the forerunner had filled his mind with images. The dreams had begun shortly after, and finding the lost amulet had become his sole purpose in life.
Of course it was fate. He was a werewolf, but he’d also started as so much more than a human. It was obvious why the forerunner had chosen him. It was still far beyond his comprehension how or why the amulet had been fashioned through human alchemy and the Old Ones’ lore, and then used to rip the spirit from the fiercest of all monsters to be bonded to a man, but he knew with all his heart that he was the one they had built it for. He was the true Alpha, the one who would prepare the way.
As the Alpha listened to the witch’s protests, the unknown female werewolf left the tree line and loped back toward town. Running her down would have been easy, but the amulet told him to let her go. Apparently, it thought she had some part to play.