“Shit!” Delilah cried out. “We’re pinned down.”
Luke looked at his comrades. Over the first few fights, each of them had taken various small wounds. Too many vampires. Too many armed vampires. They’d initially driven back the vampires after they’d forced most of them to abandon their cars after blocking the parking lot’s two main access roads, but once enough vampires showed up and regrouped, Luke and his team were pushed back, scrambling toward Timberline Lodge itself.
Luke crept up the dirty snowbank they were hiding behind—the last of the season’s snow gathered into one dirty pile—and peeked his head over the top. Unmoving vampire bodies littered the parking lot, but too few of them. They had to buy time, time for the pack to get here, but time was a luxury they didn’t have.
Luke ducked as a puff of snow splattered his face, a shot missing his head as it plowed into the top of the snowbank. He slid back to the ground into the huddled mass of six werewolves and Delilah.
“We’ve got to come up with something, or we’re fucked,” Archie said.
Luke scanned around, hoping he’d see something he could use. The long barrel of the sniper rifle strapped to Jung-sook’s back interrupted his view.
“Jung-sook, if we can get you some cover, can you get up there?” Luke pointed to the stone ledge curving around the front of Timberline Lodge.
She looked at the obstacles and obstructions, calculating the speed she’d need and the height she’d have to jump. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good. Aim for the chest or the head, if you can. Head will knock them out of the fight, chest might as well, or at least slow them down to molasses.”
Jung-sook nodded.
“OK. We need to give Jung-sook cover and time to get in position. I want to get over to that line of cars. We’ll be able to protect Jung-sook, then fall back into the stone entryway as a last stand if we need to.”
Everyone nodded solemnly.
Luke handed his Winchester M12 to Delilah to hold while he pulled the AK-47 around, then handed it to Sam. He took the shotgun back and made sure it was fully loaded. He wished they could take time for an ammo check, but that would spend valuable minutes they didn’t have.
“OK. I’m going to step out first and lay some cover fire. Then I want everyone else to sweep out in fire teams of two. Take turns firing and reloading. Jung-sook, when the first team hits those line of cars, I want you to hightail it to that ledge.” Luke slung his M12 shotgun over his shoulder and took the AK-47 back from Sam, pulling the AK-47’s charging handle back and loading a round into the chamber.
He crouch-walked to the end of the drift and flicked the safety from off to fully automatic. Placing the stock into his shoulder, he took a deep breath and stepped out. He let movement guide his aim as he squeezed the trigger to spray a few rounds to his left before releasing it and spraying some to his right. He alternated, more concerned about causing bodies to dive to the ground than hitting much.
“Go!” someone behind him shouted.
Soon, the blast of shotguns joined the distinctive crack of the AK-47as the first team worked their way across the parking lot, taking turns firing. When Luke’s gun clicked empty, he grabbed the magazine, his thumb hitting the release on the way by and flipped it, rocking the other side of the mag back into the magwell. He racked the bolt and kept firing.
With each jolt of the AK-47, Luke became angrier and angrier, and with his anger, his focus tightened. Each fanged face pulled visions of the innocents that had been drawn into the crossfire—the car they’d t-boned, the victims they’d rescued, even the glamoured cops. All wars have innocent victims, but Luke couldn’t help hating the vampires even more for dragging so many into the fray.
Every motion slowed as he swung the barrel to hit anything coming toward him, dropping their bodies to the pavement. Soon, any vampire within a couple hundred yards, sneaking their way up the hill, had a fair chance of Luke putting a 7.62mm bullet into them.
He changed the selector lever to semi-auto and started picking his shots. A vampire collapsed as a bullet ripped through its knee. Another fell backwards as a bullet hit it in the face, sending a dark mist from the back of its head. A vamp fell over clutching their abdomen from a gut shot. As he turned to the next, one that had gotten closer than he liked, it exploded into a pile of spraying goo as a one of his comrades blasted it with an anti-vamp shotgun shell.
Click. He knocked the double magazine out, letting it fall to the ground and shoved the next one in and loaded the first round with the charging lever.
Based on the number of shots he was hearing, all three of his two-person teams were working their way to their next spot. That meant Jung-sook would be on the move. He flipped to fully automatic and laid down bursts again, starting to sidestep after his team. Asphalt exploded in front of him, spraying his legs with a few small bits as a shot missed him.
The vampires, now taking heavy fire, were trying to organize their counterattack after they’d grown overconfident when pushing Luke and his friends back behind the snowdrift. So far, it was only small arms fire—police issued pistols. Luke had just flipped the magazine when the scream of a woman rocked his ear. Delilah. A crumpled heap covered in a dark red leather trench told him Delilah had been shot.
“NO!” Luke ran toward where she’d gone down, firing off bursts toward the fangers. Now at nearly full speed, he slid next to her. He dropped to his knee and kept firing. “Pablo!” Luke knocked the magazine out of the mag well and shoved another in. “Pablo!”
He heard growling along with the sound of large feet padding toward him. Someone had gone wolf. He couldn’t look, or take time to check on Delilah, not with the vampires rallying. Firing and killing his enemy needed to be his priority if he wanted to help save Delilah. He had to keep the blood sucking demons from getting to her. The pounding of boots and more shotguns blasts approaching signaled his team rallying around them. The wolf yipped. Luke risked a quick glance as the wolf heaved Delilah into his arms and sprinted off toward the line of cars. Ahmed and Archie fired off their shotguns toward the onrushing vampires. Some went down, only taking lead while some dusted or splattered after taking silver and wood.
A vampire broke from behind a car and ran toward them, firing rounds from a police shotgun. Asphalt chipped away next to Luke as he swung his barrel to take it out. Air whooshed from Luke's lungs as he fell backwards. His helmet bounced on the asphalt, jolting his vision. He gasped for air, pain radiating out from his chest.
“No, Archie!” Ahmed screamed.
Another blast of a shotgun and the unmistakable sound of double-aught buckshot tearing into human flesh kicked his brain into survival mode. Luke dragged his hand over his chest, holding it up in front of his face. Nothing. No blood. He struggled to his knees, fighting to get air. He still had the AK-47 in his hand. He unloaded the rest of the magazine into the vampire, gaining a bit of vengeful energy from each twitch of the fanger’s body as a bullet tore into its vampire flesh.
Ahmed pulled Archie toward the line of cars that was to be their refuge. Archie clasped his hands over his stomach, blood seeping from between his fingers. Struggling to his feet, Luke managed to get some air into his lungs, but his armor felt weirdly loose and floppy in the front. With no time to think about it, Luke knocked the empty magazine out and loaded another.
He had no shortage of targets as the vampires sent a small swarm to take advantage of the worsening situation. Luke poured round after round into the approaching vampires. When one went down, it seemed two took its place. Luke was about to drop the AK and pull his swords when a loud crack rent the night and a head exploded, spraying its compatriots with its vampire gore. Another crack, and another vampire downed. Jung-sook was in place and getting to work with the Steyr SSG 69 they’d picked up on the freighter. Now wasn’t the time for last stands or fouling Jung-sook’s shooting lanes.
Luke was glad he’d ordered the double capacity ten round magazines for the Austrian sniper rifle. Jung-sook made good use of it, only missing once. Taking advantage of the chaos Jung-sook’s entrance into the fight caused, Luke shoved his last double magazine into the magwell and yanked the hammer back. He poured its thirty rounds into the crowd now trying to find cover. He flipped the magazine, set the selector to safety, and threw it over his shoulder, pulling around the Winchester M12 shotgun. He restarted his movement toward their refuge, firing off a mixed load of standard buckshot and his anti-vamp shells.
Pain exploded in his leg, forcing him back to the ground, as hot lead ripped into the flesh of his thigh. He tried to put all his weight on the good leg while he fired off his shotgun. Jung-sook’s rifle was silent. He hoped she was just shoving another magazine in. He emptied his shotgun and held it in his left hand while he yanked his sawed-off from the holster on his right hip. One barrel, then two, then he shoved it back into its holster.
A couple yips alerted him to Pablo sprinting toward him. Ahmed had popped out and was firing off his shotgun. As soon as Ahmed emptied his M12, he pulled another around and fired it off. Pablo blocked Luke’s body as he scooped an arm under Luke’s arms, lifting Luke to his feet. Pablo helped him hobble toward the line of cars. Luke tried putting some weight on his shot leg. It could handle a little. He reached across his body and pulled the other sawed-off from the holster on his left leg.
“Fuck!” The motion had bumped the holster into his wound.
Luke breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the sniper rifle. They were almost to the cars. Seeing movement toward them, Luke fired off both his barrels across Pablo, who yelped in surprise. He’d have to apologize later if they survived.
When they reached the relative safety of the line of cars, Pablo set down Luke next to Delilah. Pablo waved Sam and Rhonda over. Together, the three werewolves picked up the rear of the nearest car and shoved the front end into the front of the car next to it, forming a wedge while Ahmed kept up his suppressing fire. They quickly moved down the line, closing the gaps as best they could, all while accompanied by the loud crack of the Steyr.
“Delilah?”
“Yeah?” Delilah replied, her breathing shallow and labored.
“Where were you hit?”
“My left arm. It hurts. Real bad.”
Luke reached out and patted her knee. “Yeah. It does.”
Finished with the cars, Sam and Rhonda returned to firing their shotguns.
Luke raised his voice. “Archie?”
“Still hanging in there, mate,” came the weak reply.
Sam caught Luke’s eye. The grim look on her face suggested Archie’s words might be performative. Luke shrugged the empty M12 off his shoulder and set it in his lap, the urge to keep busy overwhelming him. He reached down to grab a shell from his bandolier when his fingers slipped through his ripped hoodie, hitting metal below. He felt around but couldn’t feel the leather thong he used to close his armor. Without it, there was a gap between sides that would do little to protect him from a shot to the center of his chest. Forgetting about the shotgun for a moment, he ripped the hoodie open and found the loose ends of the thong. He pulled out the two pieces that used to be one.
“Huh. Looks like he shot my leather.” He worked one piece through the loops at the top but was unable to get it through one. The shotgun blast had smashed it nearly closed. Luke made do, and tied it tight, working the other piece around a few of the bottom loops. “I guess that’ll have to do.”
Looking down at his bleeding leg, he sighed. He pulled his gladius out and used it to slice his sleeves so he could remove his hoodie. He ripped away the blasted portions as best as he could and cut a long, wide strip. Then, he folded it in half on the long edge and wrapped it around this thigh over his wound. He hissed and winced when he pulled it tight, knotting it in place.
“You keep wincing. What’s going on?” Delilah asked.
Luke grimaced. “Oh, probably more cracked ribs. Hurts every time I move. How’s your wing?”
Delilah shifted her arm, a grimace spreading across her face. “I can move it, but it hurts like sin.”
He fed six shells into this shotgun, then reloaded both sawed-offs. Delilah, with her good hand, handed him her shotgun. He emptied his bandolier into it and grabbed a few from her bandolier, all while the sound of the Steyr and M12s blasted away.
“We’ve got to be getting low.” Everyone seemed to be slowing down their rate of fire. Luke looked over to Sam. “Sam, what’s the situation? Why are you slowing down?”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but they’re backing off some.” She reloaded her shotgun and set it aside for Ahmed if he needed it, then walked over and squatted by Luke. “They’re keeping people in place to fire off some potshots at us, probably to encourage us not to move. We’re getting kind of low on ammo up there. What do we have left?”
“Well, I’m out on spare shotgun shells. In the guns, I’ve got thirty in the mag on the AK, six in my M12 and six in Delilah’s, two each in the two sawed-offs. Delilah’s got a few on her bandolier.”
“I probably got a few in my backpack.” Delilah leaned forward.
Sam unzipped it and pulled out a couple boxes, then reached her arm in and moved it around, fishing around for more. “Shit. That’s it.” She pushed the button on her radio. “What’s your ammo count, sniper?”
“Two mags and a partial.” Another Steyr shot barked into the night.
“So twenty something,” Luke said. He clicked his radio on, speaking loud enough the nearby werewolves could hear him. “Everyone, save your shots unless you have a clear shot or they’re starting to gather. I’ll call out a shot randomly so we can keep them honest.”
When he got confirmations, he raised his arm and braced on his good leg. Sam grabbed him by the forearm and helped him up, lending an arm so he could hobble up to the cab of the truck they were hiding behind.
“How good is your vision?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know, comparatively. I’ve never done a test with a wolf. But I have great night vision. One of the upgrades I got.”
“Yeah, I guess that would be useful,” she replied.
Luke engaged the radio. “Sniper, can you see me?” Off radio, he looked at Sam. “We need to get Jung-sook a good CB handle.”
Sam chuckled and smiled. “Annie Oakley.”
Jung-sook replied, “Guy in the shiny t-shirt and hat combo? Yeah.”
“How far can you see with that scope?”
“Pretty far with a decent field of view.”
“Alright, scan around and keep us apprised if you see something going on. If you have a shot, take it. I want them worried about who’s next.”
“Roger.” A shot cracked into the night. “Got ‘em.”
“What’s going on, Luke?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know. Why aren’t they rushing us? We’ve got three injured—” He hated talking about the situation, but their odds were steeply declining.
“Four, Pablo took some buckshot in the side helping you back.”
Luke grimaced. “Fuck, I didn’t notice. He OK?”
“He’s staying wolf. It’ll heal, although someone might have to dig some buckshot out of him later.”
Luke looked around, then leaned in close to Sam. “How’s Archie…really?”
Sam sighed. “It’s not good. He took a belly full buckshot at close range. I’ve got him wrapped up as best I could, but he’s losing blood. I think it hit some organs. Maybe the liver. Could be leaking stomach acid.”
“Can’t he shift?”
“It’s…not a good idea. He could, but it’ll shift things around and he might tear up more, maybe an artery. If he survives long enough, he might heal, but then everything will have to be cut out. It’s honestly, probably fifty-fifty. We need rescue.”
“Any word on that front?”
“Only that Holly put the word out, and she’s got the pack gathering and on its way. All we can do is hold out.”
Luke nodded solemnly. “What I wouldn’t give for a vampire to drain. I need to be mobile.”
Jung-sook’s sniper rifle barked again. “Got ‘em,” came the confirmation through the radio.
Sam looked at Luke, a bit of a smile on her face. “I have an idea.”