Full Wolf Moon-Part Ten

 Cassandra opened her eyes, then bolted upright, covered in hay.  Where was she?  It took her a minute to remember all that had happened;  the bar, giving the message to Pryor, returning to the camp, Nolan raping her, leaving with Glover.  Where was Glover?  She peered through a crack in the wall; a light snow covered the ground.  She checked her watch.  She'd been asleep for almost six hours.  How would she find Glover?  She checked her weapons and slid quietly out of the loft.  The sky was begining to darken, the streets were starting to empty.  She began to walk, not sure which
 way to go.  She took a moment to remember the way to the Limber Nymph, then began her search.

Cassandra wandered around, trying to get her bearings.  She started down one street but it turned into a dead end. It was still early; would the bar even be open at this hour?  She came to an alley that looked familiar and began to enter it,  then stopped as she realized it was another dead end.  She back tracked and returned to an open square.  Now which way?  She stood still and listened for a moment.  A howling sounded in the distance.  Wolves?  Here within the city limits?  How could that be?  She listened again; yes, it was definately a wolf pack.  Her curiosity got the better of her.  Glover could wait.

She followed the sound down dark, foreboding streets.  It was a strange howl, one filled with pain.  She began to move quicker, running blindly down streets.  The noise grew louder as she came upon an old building.  She ran towards it, then fell over something in the alley.  She cursed as she crashed into the pavement.  She started to get up, rubbing her elbow as she looked around to see what had tripped her up.  A man was leaning against the side of the alley, his face a carved mass of flesh.  She bent forward to get a better look, then cried out as she recognized him. It was Glover!

Cassandra knelt next to him, gazing at his cheek.  He had heated his knife in an attempt to cauterize the bleeding. The smell of burnt flesh still lingered in the air .  She reached into her sack to look for some sort of bandage.  She found her canteen and offered it to him.

"What happened?"

Glover took a swig of water and then spit it out.

"I followed a group of soldiers to that building at the end of the alley.  Someone didn't like me nosing around.  I told him I was looking for the Limber Nymph.  He decided to give me directions."

She looked at his left eye, the lid sunk deeply into the empty socket.  Was there any way to save it?  She made a quick sweep of the ground around them, looking for the missing orb.  Glover grimaced.

"Don't bother to look for it.  He tried to make a meal of it.  There's not much left of it. Or him."

Cassandra looked over to where Glover waved his hand; a dead rat with his head shot off  lay on the other side of the alley, Glover's eye still clenched between his teeth.  Cassandra swallowed hard to keep from throwing up.  She took a deep breath and was about to speak when the howling erupted again.  The two of them looked towards the building.

"What the hell is that?"

Glover struggled to his feet, slowly moving down the alley, Cassandra following close behind.  The noise grew louder; what ever was in there was in an enormous amount of pain.  The two of them stood at the end of the alley, gazing at the structure.  A strange glow emanated from a skylight, while the entire building seemed to be bathed in a strange light.  Glover looked up towards the sky at the moon.  Cassandra followed his gaze, her voice low and soft.

"They led me here.  It's how I found you. That's a full wolf moon. They howl because they're hungry."

Glover turned his eye back to the building.  What ever was inside wasn't happy.  He pulled his hood back over his head and started to walk forward when the door to the building flew open.  A wave of pain erupted onto the street; Glover and Cassandra melted back into the alley, seeping into the shadows.  Two figures appeared in silhouette against the bright light, one small and frightened, the other large and angry.  The larger of the two paced back and forth in frustration.

"You said he'd turn!  You said Pryor would be turned by now!"

Glover and Cassandra stiffened at the sound of their comrade's name and at the sound of the man's voice.  The man she'd stabbed, the man who'd carved up his face.  They held their breath as the man continued to vent his anger, the smaller man cowering before him.

"I said I wasn't sure.  I tripled the drip, I can't guarantee it will work."

Edwards turned and punched the wall.  The old man was a fraud, he'd been lying all along.  Edwards needed this to work.  His head was swimming from lack of sleep, he could feel his knees start to buckle.  He dropped to the ground, trying to stay awake.  The little man moved quickly; he pulled out a syringe and plunged it into Edwards' shoulder.  Edwards howled and tried to grab his attacker.  The man jumped nimbly out of reach and waited; moments later Edwards collapsed on the ground, unconscious.  The little man approached in a servile manner, then boldly kicked Edwards in the ribs.

"Stupid man.  I should leave you here in the street.  But that will attract too much attention. Where are those stupid soldiers when you need them?"

The little man looked up and down the deserted street.  Glover grabbed Cassandra's arm and pulled her towards the building.  He motioned for her to shoulder her weapon as he concealed his inside his hoodie.  He held up both hands as he approached.

"Need some help, friend?"

The little man jumped at the sound of the voice, afraid one of Edwards' men had discovered what he'd done.  He peered at the two figures; they weren't soldiers.  There was no way he'd be able to pull Edwards' cumbersome body back inside by himself.  He'd use these two for his own use and then dispatch them quickly.  He motioned towards Glover and Cassandra, a sick, morbid smile appearing on his face.

"Yes, yes, come help.  My friend is ill, he needs to rest.  Help me bring him inside."

Glover moved towards the prone body, vengence rising like bile in his mouth. Cassandra held back;   the smell of death wafted out the door. Glover glanced back and motioned for her to take his legs.  She bent down and grabbed his ankles as Glover and the little man lifted his arms over the threshold.  The three of them dragged the body inside;  Cassandra dropped her end as she saw the rampage of bodies, writhing and convulsing on their slabs, muscles straining against restriants.  Glover and the little man managed to place Edwards' body on a slab.  Glover stepped back and began to scan the room, doing his best to recognize Pryor.  Towards the back of the room he stoppped; Pryor was hooked up to some sort of machine, his body contorting in pain.  He turned back to the little man, who had begun to attach wires and tubes to Edwards' body, a manical look twisting his face.  He was muttering to himself.

"Now who's the big man?  Now who's the alpha male?"

Glover moved back towards Cassandra and drew his weapon.  How to get to Pryor?  The man looked up and smirked at him.

"You think you can stop me?  Think you can keep me from victory?  Pryor said he'd lead my army."

Glover held his aim.

"Pryor needs to come with us, friend.  He has unfinished business to attend to.  Unhook him and let us leave."

The little man smirked at Glover.

"What business can a dead man attend to?"

The two of them stared at him.  Cassandra looked over towards Pryor's body, his body still straining against his restraints.

"How can he be dead when he's moving?"

The little man spat contemptously at Cassandra as he continuned to work on Edwards' body.

"Stupid girl!  He's dead but not dead.  He'll be reanimated when the moon is full.  They all will."

Full Wolf Moon-Part Nine.

Glover moved silently, keeping his head down, his eyes and ears searching.  He wandered towards the center of town.  Which way to the bar?  He leaned against a wall, trying to get his bearings when a group of soldiers appeared around the corner.  They were quaralling amongst themselves. He let them move down the street, then began to follow, making sure to keep them in sight.

He followed them around the town, down narrow, dismal streets.  After about ten minutes he saw them stop in front of what looked like an abandoned building.  The one who appeared to be the leader knocked at a door; it opened, but Glover couldn't see who or what was inside.  Two of the soldiers went directly in, but one hesistated.  The leader reappeared in the threshold and began to rip the other man a new ass.  The man outside the door continued to waffle; he turned away for a brief moment, looking behind him down the street. The leader lost his patience, drew his revolver and shot the man in the back of the head.  He dropped to the ground.  The leader returned into the warehouse;  Glover could hear voices from within.  Two figures materialized at the door, grabbed the corpse by the ankles and pulled the body inside.

Glover waited, trying to decide if it was worth his time to investigate further.  He looked around; the alley was still empty.  He started to move closer to the building when he felt something behind him. The barrel of a gun pressed firmly against his temple.

"Going somewhere, friend?"

Glover held his ground.  He slowly put his hands up, turning his head to see who had got the drop on him. He smiled.

"I'm new to this town and I seem to have gotten myself lost.  An old buddy of mine told me to check out a club called The Limber Nymph.  He said the women there were luscious and more than willing to be friendly for the right price."

Edwards pressed the gun harder into this stranger's head.  What sort of bullshit was this?  The Limber Nymph wouldn't be opened for another six hours.  He brushed the man's hood back with the nozzle of his gun to get a better look at his face.  The man returned his gaze without breaking a sweat.
 
Glover shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, trying to assess the situation.  What had he stumbled upon?  What ever was inside that building must be pretty important. Is that where he'd  find Pryor?  He smiled harder.

"Look pal, I'm just trying to get laid.  I know how to mind my own business.  Just point me towards the club and I'll be on my way."

Edwards hadn't slept in two days; he was having a hard time thinking straight.  He was running out of time; the moon would be full tomorrow night and he still had to deal with Pryor.  He considered his options and lowered his weapon.  He holstered it and pulled out his knife, holding it in front of Glover's face.

"No problem friend.  The Limber Nymph's not too far from here. Let me give you directions so you'll never forget."

Edwards pushed Glover back, bracing his body against the wall.  Edwards spoke slowly and deliberately, using his knife to carve the directions onto Glover's face.

"You go down this street three blocks, then make a left when you get to Madame Marie's.  She's a fortune teller; they say she has a third eye.  Maybe you should give her this."

Edwards dug his knife into Glover's left eye, carving out the orbit.  Glover screamed and dropped to his knees, the freshly carved spherical body rolling lazily at his feet.

Full Wolf Moon-Part Eight

Cassandra made her way back to her bunk and packed quickly.  Her meager belongings barely filled a knapsack.  She pulled a cap down over her eyes and made her way towards the armoury.  She kept her head down and moved swiftly, taking advantage of the commotion of the  bug out to remain  unseen.  The room was empty, the weapons still in place.  She grabbed two hand guns, a shot gun and enough ammunition to take out a whole squad.  She thought about taking something larger, but didn't want to be hampered by too much weight.  She peeked out and found the coast was clear.  Her peripheral vision caught sight of something; grenades and explosives.  Impulsively she grabbed a handful, shoving them into her pack, making sure to include enough blasting caps.  Explosives were useless if you couldn't detonate them.  She checked her exit again,then walked purposely towards the door.  She was almost there when a voice called out from behind her.

"Halt!  Where do you think you're going?"

Cassandra fought the instinct to bolt.  She turned slowly, keeping her eyes down, her cap low over her face.  She kept her answers short.

"Orders are to bug out, Sir!"

She glanced up as Glover came towards her.  She tried to remain calm.  He looked her over, regarded the fire power she was carrying. He'd heard Pryor still hadn't returned, knew she was being blamed for it.  He also knew her future with the unit was dim .  Better for her to die on her feet than to live on her knees.

"Come with me."

Cassandra froze.  Her flight response flared, she felt her muscles begin to tense.  Glover grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

"I said move."

Cassandra steeled herself for the assault that was certain to come.  Jeffries wouldn't wait for them to reestablish their new base; he'd slit her throat here and now.  She blindly followed Glover, only coming to her senses when she realized they were back in the armoury.  He pulled the shot gun off  her back and replaced it with a higher caliber weapon.  He inspected her knapsack, then looked up at her.

"There's no food. How far do you expect to get without provisions?"

Cassandra shook her head. Was this a trap?   Her gut  told her it wasn't.

"I only need to get back to town.  I figured I'd go back to the bar where I last saw Pryor and try to pick up his trail from there."

Glover nodded.

"Good enough place to start.  Then what?"

"If he's alive, help him finish the mission.  If  he's dead, finish it myself."

"Do you know the objective?"

"Disengage."

"Disengage what?"

Cassandra started to answer, then realized she didn't know what for sure.  Glover looked pissed.

"You can't complete a mission if you don't know what it is."

He thought a moment.  Was there still a chance this cluster fuck could be saved?  He looked at the girl; what she lacked in intelligence she more than made up for in determination.  He cursed under his breath.

"Fuck it!  We're losing our window of opportunity.  Wait here until I come back.  Don't get caught.  I won't be able to save you.

Cassandra hid behind a locker of explosives and waited.  Glover returned, armed himself, and then motioned for her to follow him.  They made their way slowly across the camp, their journey tedious in their attempt to not draw attention to themselves in the midst of all the activity.  They reached the perimeter of the camp, picking up their pace in order to increase the distance between them and the camp.  The two of them moved at a fast march for several miles, reaching the edge of town within 45 minutes.  Glover motioned for them to ease up; it was almost Zero Nine Hundred, and the town was bustling.  Cassandra leaned against a wall, trying to stay upright.   Her initial burst of adrenaline had worn off, the fatigue she'd been fighting during her interrogation began to pull her down into an undertow of exhaustion.  She put her other arm out to brace herself against the wall, crashing instead into Glover's back.  He turned and grabbed her,  cursing as he steadied her, placing her down on the ground.

"When's the last time you slept?"

Cassandra bit her lip until she tasted blood in an attempt to revive herself.  She shook her head and took a deep breath.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Glover looked around for a place for them to hide.  He spied a small stable across the street; goats and chickens wandered around in front.  Above the stable was a small loft filled with hay and straw.  He pulled Cassandra to her feet, and steered her forward. He walked to the back of the stable, looking for an entrance to the loft.  There was a hole in the ceiling.  He pulled himself up, making sure they were alone.  He leaned back down and motioned for Cassandra to raise her arms above her head.  He pulled her up, and motioned to a pile of hay in the corner of the loft.

"Crawl in there and get some sleep.  I'm going to see what I can find out around town.  Where was the last place you saw Pryor?"

Cassandra struggled to remember where the bar was.  She felt dizzy and nauseous.

"A bar on Baker Street called the Limber Nymph.  A real slime hole.  I don't remember any nymphs, though."

Glover shook his head and pushed her into the hay, burying her deep within.  Minutes later she was fast asleep.  Glover sat and considered his next move. How were they going to find Pryor?    He concealed his weapon and pulled his hood up over his head.  He checked the stable, dropping to the floor. A goat bleated his disapproval at the intrusion.  Glover laughed, stroking the goat's head.

"Watch your tone, son.  People get mighty hungry at the end of the day."

He patted the goat's side, looked around, and slowly made his way into town.

Full Wolf Moon-Part Seven

"And then?"

Cassandra tried to keep her eyes open.  She'd been up all night, answering the same questions over and over again.  Yes, she gave him the message.  They'd been interrupted by an officer.  No, she didn't know if he'd been captured or had been able to carry out his orders. She'd been running too fast to escape the bar.  All she knew was she needed sleep.

The two men turned away and walked towards the window.  It was almost dawn.  She had returned a little after midnight; if Pryor had been successful in his mission he should have rendezvoused with them at O-four hundred. He was two hours late.

"Now what?"

Jeffries shrugged and lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke towards the window.  The first rays of sunlight were streaking across the horizon.  He held the pack out to Nolan; Nolan took one and let it hang out of the corner of his mouth.  Pryor knew that being captured wasn't an option; a cyanide capsule was.  It was more dangerous if he'd been compromised and unable to return to his barracks and complete the mission.  Jeffries took another drag off his cigarette, then walked back to the girl.  She was sitting in her chair, eyes closed, her breath rhythmic.   He stood behind her and stubbed out his cigarette on the back of her neck.  She jumped out of her seat, slapping her hand to her neck and wheeling around at her tormentor.  Jefferies regarded her impassively.

"I didn't give you permission to sleep Cassandra."

Cassandra stood her ground.  She was tired of being treated as a party favor passed around by
the senior members of the organization.  She glared at Jeffries, her hands balled up into fists.  Nolan laughed softly as he sauntered over.  Jeffies grabbed her by the hair, pulling her off her feet, until they were eye to eye.

"We may have been compromised.  Our whole organization may be in imminent danger of being wiped out, all because you were unable to deliver a simple message."

Cassandra grabbed at his hands above her head, her feet kicking the air.  She took a deep breath to keep her voice steady.

"I delivered the message.  Pryor said he needed more time.  He said you needed to be patient.  You needed to trust him."

Jeffries dropped her to the floor.  She was only good for one thing.  And there wasn't time for that now.  He looked over towards Nolan.

"Move out.  It's too dangerous to stay here.  We need to go deeper under ground until we find out exactly what's going on.  Get a team together and see what you can find out. And as for you . . ."

He bent down and pulled Cassandra to her knees, pressing her face hard against his crotch with one hand while the other held a large knife to her throat.  Cassandra fought the urge to bite him.

"You have only one purpose for this unit.  Don't ever forget it.  And don't ever think that will change.  You had your chance to be useful.  You blew it.  Get your rest; once we resettle, I throw you to the rest of the team.  For their enjoyment, and my amusement."

He threw her to the floor and left the room, his foot steps echoing down the hall.  Nolan knelt down next to her, drawing her close to him.

"Don't worry Cassandra.  I'll take care of you."

Nolan stuck his tongue in her mouth, his hands groping her breasts and between her legs.  He pushed her onto her stomach and pulled at her pants; she grimaced as he raped her, struggling not to cry out.  She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.  He finished (he was known as "Quick Shot" for reasons other than his marksmanship ), got dressed, then kicked her naked ass with his boot.  Cassandra lay there, trying to catch her breath and compose herself.  Nolan walked towards the door, calling over his shoulder.

"Thanks.  I hate to wait for  sloppy seconds."

Cassandra waited, listening to the sounds of the unit being mobilized.  She had to leave, now, while there was so much activity going on.  She wouldn't be missed; she'd strike out on her own, and track down Pryor by herself.  It would be a hardship, but it wouldn't be any worse than how she was surviving now.

She'd find Pryor, she'd make sure of it, if only to kick his ass for putting her in this predicament.

Full Wolf Moon-Part Six

"Why can't you just accept the facts?  They're right in front of you."

Right in front of you.

Right in front.

In front of you.

He was floating.  He was falling.  He was weightless, then solid as a rock. There was silence, then a wave of sound. Death had come in a matter of minutes, but for reasons he couldn't understand, Pryor still had some sense of consciousness.

His veins burned as fluid was pumped into them.  Why was he still able to feel?  Why couldn't he get her voice out of his head?  Her voice?  But she was dead.  So was he.

She was there.  She wasn't.  He thought he felt her hands on his body, her voice in his ear. The scent of a lavish meal wafted up his nostrils;  was he in Valhalla?  He followed the scent like a dog tracking prey, began to recognize voices and sounds as he stumbled towards a huge wooden door.  A gate?  He leaned his body against the massive oak and pushed; slowly the door gave way.  He found himself in a room of long tables covered in food and drink.  Venison, chicken, duck, steer; flagons of wine and beer and mead flowed like the tears of a betrayed woman.  She stood against the wall, a goblet encased in her hands.  He began to stumble towards her when a hand flashed in his face, baring his path.  Pryor looked to his left to see who dared to refuse him entrance. Heimdallr!

Pryor held his gaze.  He would not be denied tribute for battles bravely fought.  At last he could rest, at last they could be reunited.

Heimdallr stood impassively, his icy blue eyes judging Pryor and finding him wanting.  He spoke very softly, yet it seemed as if thunder filled the air.

"You do not belong here.  Your death was not achieved in battle.  You followed the path of the coward, taking your own life.  You have brought shame to your claim of warrior."

Pryor struggled to find his voice.  He would not be denied.

"I have fought many battles!  I have led men to victory!  I have earned my right to rest in this mighty hall and wait for my turn to battle in Ragnarok!"

"No.  Not yet.  You have not died a warrior's death.  Perhaps you never will."

Pryor's eyes widened; for the first time in his life, he felt fear.

Heimdallr's gaze drifted above Pryor's head, seeing into the future.

"You cannot die, Pryor.  You will be undead for all eternity."

Pryor began to scream as he was pulled  away from the doorway, away from her and honor and glory.  Again he felt the sensations of falling and flying, his arms and legs powerless.  He tossed and turned until he felt he was being twisted inside out.   Finally he felt a hard surface beneath him; his body recognized it as the slab he had been laying on in the charnal house.  He could make out the vague outline of wires and tubes as they dangled above him, and he began to recognize an abnormal thirst within his throat.

An abnormal thirst for blood.  Human blood.

Full Wolf Moon-Part Five

 

 

Edwards clenched his fist as the medic stitched up the wound in his thigh.  That bastard Pryor!  Edwards had his suspicions about him.  Now there was no doubt in his mind that Pryor was involved with the Resistance movement.  Where was he now?  Would he try to return to the base?  Edwards was lost in thought when he realized the medic had finished and was giving him instructions.

"Try to stay off it for a few days."

Edwards snorted and pulled his pants back up, testing his weight on the leg. It stung, but he'd live.  He shouldered his weapon and walked out of the infirmary looking for his men.  He found them across the street in a tight circle.  Cries of fear and pain emanated from within.  He walked up and pushed his way towards the middle.  Edwards cursed as he saw what was giving his men so much entertainment.  What the hell was he doing out of his lair?

It was the little man, crouched in a small ball to protect himself.  Edwards kicked him; the little man yelped and pulled himself tighter.

"Stand up," Edwards snarled. "What the hell do you want?

The little man began to shake; he looked like a terrified armadillo.  Slowly he stretched out his arm, his other hand still wrapped around his head.  He began to whine.  Something shiny dangled from his clenched fist. Edwards grabbed it, turning it over in his hands.  His eyes widened as he saw the name on the dog tags:  PRYOR.

"Where did you get this?"

The little man muttered into his chest.  Edwards kicked him hard across the road; the little
man screamed and cried as he crashed into a wall.

"I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!"

"He was brought in about an hour ago.  Cyanide pill.  He was dead on arrival."

Edwards walked over and placed his boot upon the man's chest.  He started to press down.

"And why did you bring this to me?"

The little man began to struggle, tried to lift the boot off.  His eyes started to roll back into his head; Edwards released the pressure so he wouldn't faint. The little man lay still and silent.  Edwards started to prod him with his foot, then sighed,  and crouched down next to him.  He opened his canteen, took a swig of water, then spit it into the little man's face to revive him.  The little man sputtered and coughed.  Edwards began to speak again, this time slowly and quietly.

"Come on now friend.  We've known each other a long time now.  We have no secrets between us.  Why did you bring these tags to me?"

The little man sat up and started to rock back and forth.  He eyed Edwards cautiously;  telling the truth might get him killed.  Lying and then being found out would most definitely .  He leaned towards Edwards.

"Pryor told me to bring them to you.  He wants me to turn him.  He wants to be the alpha male, and lead the army."

"Does he now?  And where is the good lieutenant at this moment?"

The little man wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"He's back at the lab."

Edwards nodded his head.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes.  He took a cyanide capsule.  I have him hooked up to the serum now."

Edwards sat back on his heels and let his gaze wander to the moon.  Almost full.  He held up the dog tags, letting the moon light bounce off of them. 

"Will he be ready by the full moon?"

"I'm not sure, he hasn't been receiving the serum as long as the others.  I had to double the drip on him."

Edwards rubbed his chin.Too little and he wouldn't turn.  Too much and he might be an even bigger liability.  Edwards looked down at the little man and smiled.

"Triple the drip."

The little man sprung to his feet.

"Triple the drip?  Are you mad?  He'll be a monster!  Who'll be able to control such a beast?"

Edwards held the tags up once again and let them glimmer in the moonlight.  His voice was almost wistful.

"I don't know old friend.  Maybe it would be best to put a poor beast like that out of his misery."

Because

I wear your deodorant,

close my eyes,

        and

convince myself,

You're here

       because

I can still smell

        you.