“Almost first thing they targeted was Masterton’s pet project as if it affronted them; I watched on CCTV as they tore the pup to pieces then started in on Masterton when he tried to intervene. I believe I shall hear his screams until the day I die. Then they turned their attention to the rest of us. When they forced their way into the lab, I knew it was time to get the fuck out of there.”
“And how did you manage that?”
“I made for the Skidoo garage and high-tailed it out of there with the buggers snapping at my arse.”
He went quiet again. I could read between the lines though; there was still plenty he wasn’t telling us but Wilko arrived with hot coffee at that point and I took mine over to the machine to have a word with the cap about what I’d just heard.
The sheriff listened in as I told the man’s story.
“Do you think he fled and just left everybody behind?”
“I think that’s exactly what he did,” I said. “And there’s more he’s not telling us. Who knows what we’ll find up there?”
“We really need to get to yon station and see for ourselves,” the cap said.
“And I’ll be coming along for the ride,” the sheriff added.
“You’ll have your own people to look after.”
“Once they’re all on your choppers I think they’ll be okay. But I won’t be leaving with them. I’m coming with you.”
“We’ll see about that,” the cap replied.
“Yes, we will.”
And again I reminded myself never to play her at cards; she was fierce. I was about to playfully tease her on that very matter when Davies called out from near the main door.
“They’re back and I think they’re up to something,” he called out.
We all went to investigate.
Have you ever heard a dog trying to get to a rabbit that’s hidden itself under a garden shed? There’s the sound of frantic scratching and digging, huffs of frustration, and, if the wood is good and strong, the unmistakable screech of teeth and nails being tested. That’s what this was like. It sounded like there were three, maybe four of them at it.
And we were the rabbits in this scenario.
“They’re trying to get under us,” Jennings said.
“No shit, Sherlock?” I replied and turned to the sheriff.
“Can they do that?”
She shook her head and stamped her feet.
“Concrete, six inches deep. I was here when it was poured. We built this place to survive just about anything.”
“But is there anything below that?”
“There’s a basement, sure. But the door into it is outside at the back. There’s no way for them to get up to us. Trust me.”
It made having to listen to the noise a bit easier, but not much. The bastards appeared to be determined in their efforts. The locals were getting skittish, some of the younger ones clearly unsettled by this new attack.
“Can’t you do something, Sheriff?” one of the men asked. “It feels like we’re rats in a trap here.”
Sheriff Sue turned to the cap.
“That’s how I feel too. I’d like to take the fight to these bastards, but I’ll need your firepower. Are you game?”
“Ready when you are, Sheriff. Just give the word.”
She thought about it for a few seconds.
“Three of us should be enough to get the job done. Any more and we’ll just get in each other’s way. We go out the back door and if it’s all clear, round the side. Then the plan’s simple—we take down as many of them as we can and if they manage to mount an attack, we beat a fighting retreat back in here to safety.”
“A commando raid. I like it,” I said and got the thin smile again.
“I don’t. But if we can thin the pack now there’ll be fewer to have to deal with later if we’re forced out into the open.”
“You up for it, Sergeant?” the cap said. “If not, just say and I’ll go, but you look like a bit of action wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Oh, I’m definitely up for it, Cap,” I replied. “I’ll take Wilko. Get some fresh coffee on, we’ll be right back.”
Jennings looked like he’d taken being excluded as a personal affront but I couldn’t help that; Wilko was a known quantity, Jennings wasn’t yet, it was as simple a decision as that. I just didn’t have time to spare to explain it to him. I turned to the sheriff.
“Lead on, Sheriff Sue. We’ve got your back.”
Wilko was by my side as we followed her to the rear of the fire station.
- 6 -
The wind was against us. As soon as she opened the door, we got hit in the face by biting snow and a gale that wanted to strip skin off our cheeks. I pulled my jacket hood tight around my ears, got the goggles down and leaned into the storm.
We stepped out into darkness. There was a small single light above the door but it barely penetrated into the night. I turned in time to see the cap and Davies close the door at our backs then we were alone with the elements and whatever beasties were prowling in them.
I switched on the sight light on my rifle; it proved to be good for lighting up the ground at my feet and not much else. If the beasties were watching us at this point there was no way we were going to see them coming. I felt vulnerable and exposed, neither of which were much fun.
The sheriff appeared to be feeling the same way. She moved quickly away from under the doorway light, hugging the wall and going right towards the corner that would, hopefully, give us a view of our targets. She moved easily and carefully, like a soldier in fact. I was almost certain she’d been military at some point in the past, she had that feel radiating from her. I hoped to get a chance to ask her later, but for now all our concentration was on reaching the corner without anything taking note of us.
It was a long thirty seconds, expecting an attack out of the whiteout at any second. But none came. The sheriff stopped us by putting up a hand inches in front of my face so I couldn’t fail to see it. She leaned forward and peered round the corner, then raised her hand again, three fingers… three targets. Without speaking she indicated that she’d take the middle, I was to take the right and Wilko the left. I was now in no doubt; she’d definitely been military… and used to being in charge.
We stepped out into the open in unison as if we’d trained together for it.
The wind came from my back now and it swirled around the side of the station such that it created a clear view all along that length of wall. Wolves felt like too small a word for the three things we saw digging at the ground some twenty feet ahead of us; they were bigger than most horses, shaggy around the shoulders and silver gray at the flanks with long bushy tails and snouts full of far too many teeth. If the sheriff was impressed by their sheer animal magnetism, she gave no sign. She raised her weapon and Wilko and I followed suit.
I don’t know what gave her pause; I didn’t have her down as the sentimental sort, but she hesitated when I expected her to shoot and she surprised me by shouting out, as if addressing a stray dog.
“Hey, you, get away from there.”
The wolves turned as one to stare at us. I had a sudden glimpse of rage-filled red eyes, then the nearer of the beasts leapt, from a standing start into the jump that had it coming right at us.
Luckily for me young Wilko was on the ball. He put three rounds into its head. It barely slowed the thing’s momentum, but at least it was dead when it reached us and I was able to step sharply aside and let it fall into a heap at my feet. When I looked along the wall again it was to notice that the other two had taken the chance to slink off into the storm; there was nothing for me to shoot at.
Wilko kicked at the dead beast with the toe of his boot.
“Hey, Sarge, cop a look at this shite.”