As they went deeper into the trees and farther from the river or any overgrown path, he could sense other predators around him. He felt them watching, waiting for him to slip or land too close to the wrong set of hungry jaws. Spiders clung to his fur. Primate voices screeched at him as he passed. Creatures that had never been detected by human eyes waited within hidden dens, plotting escape and attack routes should either possibility arise. But what caught his attention most were the serpents.
Snakes of all shapes and colors reclined on branches or dangled from trees that were low enough to grant them access to slow-moving prey. Colorful scales twitched as the werewolf’s paws thumped nearby. Long, muscular bodies wrapped around his ankles in an attempt to drag him down. Full Blood or not, Randolph was a stranger in those trees. That made him vulnerable to any number of carefully orchestrated attacks or well-timed bites. All those possibilities gave him a rush of excitement that had been absent after so many years of dancing with the same hunters across the same patches of land.
Eventually, Jaden slowed down. Randolph caught up to her right away and tightened his grip on the next tree he could wrap his arms around. Sinking his claws into the aged bark, he looked down at her as one of the snakes slid across his knuckles.
“Here is where we wait,” she announced.
The clearing was small and could very well disappear or be reshaped by a storm. She remained on all fours, keeping her head low either out of deference to the being that approached or to watch for whatever threats might be lurking beneath the thick carpeting of fallen leaves and topsoil. Randolph felt the urge to climb even higher just to survey his surroundings but didn’t want to ruin what might be a singular chance to meet Icanchu. There would be time for sightseeing later. For now, there was business to discuss.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Shreveport, Louisiana
The sirens wailed throughout the city. Whoever didn’t heed the warning they provided were either directed into shelter by passing soldiers or cut down by the increasing number of Half Breeds that swarmed through every alley, neighborhood, and suburb. Whenever Esteban raised his voice to howl above the din of the sirens, more locals dropped to their knees, clawed at their faces and screamed as they were cruelly introduced to the Breaking.
Adderson cringed every time he heard the Full Blood. On the occasions when the agonized cries were too far away to affect him or his men, he felt shame for being relieved that he hadn’t lost anyone to the random slaughter inflicted by the whims of a monster. He didn’t know why some were broken and others weren’t. He didn’t know why he hadn’t even felt a twitch of pain during any of those howls. As a soldier, however, he was all too familiar with the terrible randomness that struck some down and left others standing to view the carnage.
After taking silent stock of the soldiers in the Humvee with him, Adderson ordered the vehicle to stop. The driver was a tall kid who’d just turned twenty after being transferred to the IRD from an infantry post in the Army. Myles may have been young, but he’d proven himself under pressure in Afghanistan and a few times already when cleaning up various cities after the wolves started showing up.
“Take a look up top, Warren,” Adderson said to a Marine on her second tour of duty in a war zone. “And be careful. There may be some following close enough to the Humvee that we can’t see them through the windows.”
Jennifer Warren had put twice as much time into her career as the young driver and carried herself like a true warrior. “Yes sir,” she said. “Just like in Memphis.” In Memphis some of the Half Breeds had gotten smart enough to slink alongside IRD vehicles and wait for soldiers to stick their heads out so they could be pulled to the street and devoured. Even though she still had nightmares about those deaths, she stood up through the hatch in the roof that put her behind a mounted .50 caliber machine gun. “Looks like there’s some activity down this alley, sir,” she reported.
Keying his radio, Adderson said, “Turning down the alley. Be ready.”
The drivers of the two Humvees behind him acknowledged, and gunners emerged from their roofs.
After getting the nod from Adderson, Myles hit the gas and turned down the alley. Almost immediately four Half Breeds exploded from behind a row of trash cans to attack the convoy. Warren opened fire with the .50 cal, and the Humvee behind her followed suit. The third gunner waited until two of the Half Breeds circled around before opening up on them.
The first pair of Half Breeds caught Warren’s barrage in the face and chest. She knew well enough to aim low and lead the werewolves rather than wasting ammo trying to hit a target that was too fast to be pinned down with normal fire. Even after their front paws were knocked out from beneath them, they kept coming. The first time she’d seen creatures get up and continue to function after being hit by .50 caliber rounds, Warren had been stupefied. That was just enough time for two of the men in her unit to be taken down and another to be turned. Ever since then, she just fired at them until they stopped moving.
When the driver started to get anxious, Adderson told him, “Steady. We’ll get our chance.”
That didn’t seem to calm the kid’s nerves as machine guns kept blazing and chunks of pavement were blasted apart on either side of his vehicle. For a few jarring seconds all three of the .50 cals were firing in unison. Adderson’s brain rattled in his skull, but he focused on the alley from which the Half Breeds had emerged. There was more movement down there and what looked to be someone on all fours crawling out from the shadows. That figure, along with a few others, still seemed human.
One Half Breed propped itself up to scratch its claws against Myles’s window. A few rounds from the second Humvee knocked it to the ground, where several more holes were blasted through its body. Once that one stopped moving, the gunfire fell silent.
“That does it for that pack, sir,” one of the other gunners said through Adderson’s radio. “Moving on?”
“Negative,” Adderson replied. “I need a recon unit to accompany me into that alley. Looks like there may be casualties.”
“Yes sir.”
One of the weapons issued to Adderson and the rest of the IRD troops had been an HK-G36. The lightweight assault rifles were modified to carry extended magazines as well as grenade launchers under the barrel. Not long after the IRD’s first mission, incendiary rounds were also issued, but it turned out that the only thing worse than a rampaging pack of werewolves was a rampaging pack of werewolves on fire. For now, hollow points intermixed with standard rounds were the flavor of the week. Enough of that mixture on full auto usually put down a Half Breed. Of course, a good amount of prayer didn’t hurt.
A few comforting verses drifted through Adderson’s mind as he led the way down that alley. Snarls came from all sides. Some came from above. He kept his focus on the path directly ahead and pointed toward the rooftops so the Marines behind him could keep watch on that area. Someone was crying. He couldn’t tell whether it was a man or woman, child or adult. When someone was in that much pain and terrified, they were all brought down to the same level.
“Wolves up top,” was all one of the Marines said before he and another soldier opened fire.
Adderson barely flinched at the chattering gunshots. He was close enough to an alcove to see a woman and a boy who looked to be around ten years old huddled against a building’s side door that remained shut no matter how hard they pushed against it. She was missing an arm and he was lying on his side along with her severed limb. They were both covered in blood.