The rough path was a familiar sight for us after that long day. A familiar and boring sight. I ducked a low branch and tiptoed around a spiny bush before I looked at Chris’ nice behind. “You ever get the feeling we’re half feral already?”
He drew a branch out of his face and frowned. “Or part plant.”
I swept my eyes over the trees. “If only we could make an army out of these things. The Claws would have their hands full of bark worse than their bite.”
Chris sighed. “Unfortunately, we have an army of four, and one of them is injured and another limps.”
I snorted. “And then there’s us. Two sort-of-werewolves who look like a pair of dried drowned rats after we mucked our way through a pine-needle infested bog.”
“Could be worse.”
I arched an eyebrow. “How?”
He turned his head to one side and flashed me a grin. “Could be raining.”
A soft rumble in the distance made me glare at him. “You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?”
Chris shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“Well, I want my money back.”
“Do you have a receipt?”
“I left it in my other bog pants. And speaking of bog.” I tried to fling the mud from his hair off my fingers, but the gunk stuck. “What is this stuff made out of? Gum mixed with tar with a dash of boogers just to really gross me out?”
“Something like that,” Chris mused as he tried to wipe some of the gunk from his own pants. He had the same success as me: none.
As I looked ahead at my handsome companion and the trail set out before us, I couldn’t help but be struck by a stark realization. “Listen, Chris, if things get kind of thorny wherever we’re headed-”
He stiffened and spun around to face me. “Don’t say it.”
I frowned up at him. “You and I both know this isn’t exactly the smartest thing we’ve ever done in our lives. Like Greylock said, this isn’t a game. We’re up against werewolves who have already attacked-”
“You don’t think I know that?” His sharp voice cut through mine and made me wince a little. Chris pursed his lips and sighed. “Listen, we’ll take this slow and make up a plan when we get there. No rushing head-long into the fray, got it?”
I straightened and gave him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”
He clapped a hand over my mouth and whipped his head to face the path ahead of us. “Quiet.”
I blinked up at him. “Woof ew ew heh?”
It was his turn to blink at me. “Come again?”
I pulled his hand from my face but kept my voice to a minimum. “I said ‘what do you hear?’”
Chris returned his attention to the lower path. The trail slowly declined, and some thirty feet off it curved around a bend and out of sight. “Voices.”
I couldn’t help but tense. This was it. We were really going to go into battle. Well, sort of. I felt completely unprepared. That is, not wolfy at all.
I instinctively stepped closer to Chris and looked into his face. “You feel anything yet?”
He shook his head. “No, but we’d better hurry. I hear a car coming.”
Chris took my hand and we rushed down the path. The trail meandered its way through the trees and brush for another fifty yards before boulders started to pop up. I looked to our right and up, and watched the trees be replaced by a craggy cliff face with shards of stones and boulders, broken off over thousands of years from the face. Here then was Shatter Rock.
The path led us along the foot of the small mountain until it dropped out of sight. Literally. We rounded a boulder and Chris came to a quick stop. I crashed into him, and he flailed about before his hand caught on the treacherous boulder.
I looked around. “Why’d you stop-oh.”
The reason was the path which took a steep nosedive into a little rocky den some twenty feet below us. A couple of flat slabs of rock leaned against one another and covered most of the hollow. I glimpsed an opening in the trees some fifty yards off and guessed that was the road, especially when headlights appeared in the distance.
Shadowy figures paced to and fro underneath the natural shelter, but one sat on the ground with their back against the rock wall. Their ankles were bound by a lighter color of rope than their clothes, and I guessed their hands behind their back were in much the same position. I didn’t need another guess to know it was Duncan.
Our acquaintance was surrounded by his half dozen captors. Judging by their builds four of them were men and the other two were women. One of the women leaned her back against the stone close to where Duncan sat with her arms folded over her chest. A cigarette burned in her mouth and its soft glow allowed me to see that her eyes were closed.
One of the men walked up to her. “They’re coming.”
She opened her eyes and glared at him. “I can hear that, you dolt. Just remain here with this idiot-”
“I resemble that remark.” The voice was weak, but the quip was unmistakably Duncan.
The woman sneered down at him and gave his side a sharp kick. He let out a hiss, but hardly flinched. The woman flicked her cigarette away and pushed off from the wall. “And will someone please shut this guy up?”
One of the men stepped up and cracked his knuckles one after the other. “Gladly.”
The woman grabbed her subordinate by the front of his collar and yanked him against her, so their faces almost touched. His feet nearly dangled off the ground. “Don’t kill him. The last thing we need is the stupid Council breathing down our necks about a dead werewolf and how we got this deed.” She pushed him away and strode toward the road where the headlights had stopped moving. “Three of you, with me.”
Three of the others scampered to obey, though the bully remained along with the other woman. His shadow fell over Duncan as a low, deep chuckle came from him. “I’ve been itching to do this ever since we caught ya. It’s payback for that bite.”
Duncan managed a weak grin. “Sorry about that. I was peckish and thought you were a chicken or a pig, but now I see that you’re both.”
A rumbling growl echoed out of his captor. “Why, you little-” He slammed his fist into Duncan’s cheek. Duncan’s head cracked to one side and a few blood drops splattered the ground. “How do you like the taste of that, eh?”
Duncan righted himself and slipped his tongue over his cut lip. “Could use some salt.”
The man snapped his jaws and drew his arm back for another blow. Not again. I lunged down the slope and landed sideways on both feet. Somehow, I kept my balance as I slid skate-board style down the ridge to the bottom. My landing was a little rough, though, as my front foot hit a rock and I tumbled forward. Fortunately, the woman cushioned my landing as I crashed into her, and both of us were sent sprawling onto the ground.
As I lay there in a daze, a rough, thick hand grabbed the back of my collar and yanked me off the other woman. I was turned around to face the ugly mug of Duncan’s abuser. He curled his lips back and showed off a fine set of yellow teeth. The steak stuck between the chompers was a nice touch.
I gave him a sheepish grin. “You really should learn to floss.”
“And use some breath mints,” Duncan quipped.
“Who the hell are you?” he snapped.
“Who cares who they are?” the woman countered as she climbed to her feet. “It means those Wolf Mountain guys aren’t alone. I’ll call the boss and-”
Chris slid into sight as I had and slammed his fist into the side of the woman’s face. She staggered for a few feet until she dropped onto her knees on the ground. The woman grabbed her jaw and whipped her head around. Her eyes glowed with an unearthly yellow light as she curled her lips back in a snarl.
“Werewolves!” she snapped as she climbed to her feet. “The pack got bigger!” She spun around to face the road and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Boss! We’ve got-”
Chris didn’t let her finish before he slammed his fist into the back of her head. She crumpled to the ground and lay still. That was one down, five more to go.