Chapter Twenty Four
Duane stopped at the road to stare in wonder. He put his foot on the road. It was so hard, and it went off into the horizon for such a long distance. He sniffed at the air. Roads smelled funny, and he could smell other funny things, like weird kinds of smoke he’d never smelled before.
The baby in his arms moved and made a faint noise.
He turned and began walking north at a fast pace, then broke into a trot. That was where the town was. He didn’t know how he’d find a doctor; he’d figure it out when he got there.
He hadn’t walked far before he heard a car coming, and his heart began to beat faster. Would the people in the car know he was a wolf? Would they shoot him? He looked all human, he was pretty sure.
The car pulled up alongside him…and his heart sank. It was Mr. Tompkins and his sons and Bruce, all crammed into the front seat. One of his sons was holding a gun to Bruce’s head.
They stopped the car and climbed out, with Clem dragging Bruce by the arm. Duane felt rage flow through him, and fur sprang from his flesh.
Bruce was crying hard.
“Let him go,” he snapped at Clem. “He’s just a kid.”
“Get in the car, you ungrateful bastard,” Mr. Tompkins snarled at Duane.
“Don’t do it!” Bruce yelled at him. “He’ll just kill us all anyway! Run with the baby! Run, Duane, do it now!”
“Shut up!” Mr. Tompkins screamed at Bruce.
Clem rapped Bruce on the head with the butt of his gun, hard, and Bruce cried out, and Duane yelled in fury.
Then Bruce partially shifted, turned, and bit Clem’s hand so hard that Clem dropped the gun, screaming. Blood gushed out of Clem’s wrist.
“Run! Save the baby!” Bruce screamed.
We’re all going to die.
Duane closed his eyes and turned and ran blindly down the road. He heard shots, four or five of them, and he kept running, wondering when he’d feel the pain of gunshots blooming in his body, and he prayed they’d at least let the baby live.
* * * * *
The leader of the Enforcers looked down at Earvin’s body, then looked at his men. Then he directed his gaze at Jarrod.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said to Jarrod. “I regret that we need to kill you. You fought well. But if we let you live, then our lives are forfeit.”
Fear rushed through Mary. There were too many of them. Too many for Jarrod and Craig to defeat. And they were too deep in the woods to call out for help. Nobody would hear them.
“That is what you deserve,” Jarrod growled at him.
“What he did was right. He weeded out the weak, and he made our pack stronger,” the man said. “He brought honor to our pack.”
“He never understood what real strength is,” said Jarrod. “And nor do you.”
“I hope I at least get to make them bleed before I go down,” Angela said. Her voice shook. She was scared, but her eyes were resolute.
“Get behind me,” Briony said, her eyes glittering with tears. “Run if you can. I hoped to meet my real son, but at least I’ll die in a way that honors him.”
Jarrod didn’t look back at them, but he didn’t waver. “You see who I have behind me?” he said.
“Where the hell is Constance?” Angela demanded suddenly. “She was right by those bushes before…where is she now?”
As if in answer, a chorus of howls ripped through the air, and suddenly the clearing was full of wolves. Female wolves.
Very, very pissed-off female wolves. At least a dozen of them.
