Marcus Pelegrimas - The Breaking

“Let the soldiers deal with that thing!” Jessup said while squaring off with the rear door of the truck. “Your friends are in here. You want ’em out? Help me get this goddamn door open!”

Cole hurried to the other Skinner’s side while Rico laid down a steady barrage of cover fire. Since Ben and a few other Mongrels had convinced Cecile to move away from the IRD, the dwindling number of soldiers shifted their fire to Esteban. In a matter of seconds the Full Blood shouted Randolph’s name and the two werewolves locked horns with even more force than when they’d met in Colorado.

“Fucking useless grunts!” Jessup snarled. “No wonder they’re getting hacked to pieces.”

“Take it easy! They’re doing their best.”

When Jessup swung, it was with full force. His fist thumped against Cole’s chest and sent a shock wave through the upper part of his body. Although it forced him back a step, the impact wasn’t nearly enough to put him down.

“Get to the driver!” Jessup said. There was a tremor in his voice that let Cole know he was struggling just as hard to keep the stabbing pains from overtaking him.

Cole ran to the front end of the truck and heard the all-too-familiar sound of flesh being torn from bone. Two Half Breeds feasted on the bodies of two dead soldiers, shredding their flesh as if it was made from wet cardboard. Cole fired his assault rifle until every last round had been spent. He didn’t know how much damage he’d done before swinging the rifle like a club to smash a Half Breed in the face. Letting the rifle slide through his fingers, he pulled his spear out from behind his back and drove the metallic end into another creature’s chest.

No matter how much his body hurt, he couldn’t stop fighting until both of the Half Breeds were down. He didn’t black out. Something simply took over to complete the task. Cole wasn’t just in the zone, he was happier than he’d been in a long time. The rush didn’t end until two howls filled the air. Randolph and Esteban tore at each other with a vengeance, giving the soldiers a chance to regroup at another one of the trucks.

Since his truck was on its side, Cole was able to reach in through a hole that had been ripped through the roof. The driver lay with her arms entangled in the steering wheel and her throat slashed open. After taking the keys from the ignition, he searched her pockets and found another set of keys in her jacket.

Racing around to the back of the truck, he handed the keys to Jessup. “Are these what you needed?”

The older man tried the ones on the ring that had been hanging from the steering column and quickly dismissed them in favor of the next set. The second one on that ring fit inside the lock of the door, and when he turned the handle, there was a satisfying clank and the doors swung apart. Jessup hopped back before the lower one knocked against his shins.

Inside, two narrow benches were bolted to the floor. Frank sat on what was supposed to be the side wall of the compartment. His wrists and legs were shackled and a chain ran through both sets of restraints, securing them to a metal ring embedded in the bench. Lambert was shackled in a similar manner, but because he was chained to the bench on the wall that was now a ceiling, he hung down like a tattooed and very pissed off chandelier. The scowl on his face instantly turned into a sloppy grin when he looked at who stood in the doorway.

“Cole! We been looking all over for you!”

Frank tried to stand up but was immediately brought down by his restraints. “Get me out of these fucking chains and put a weapon in my hand,” he said.

Going to the Squam first, Cole said, “I know just how you feel. Jessup, toss me the keys for these shackles.”

“Here,” snapped the older Skinner. “Find ’em yourself.” After he tossed both rings at him, Cole ran toward the closest group of Half Breeds.

Narrowing his search down to keys small enough to fit the locks on the shackles, he quickly found the one he needed.

“What?” Lambert whined. “Lizard Boy gets out before me?”

“Just shut up and try to keep your head down,” Cole told him. “You’ll probably just want to stay in here anyway.”

“Keep him chained,” Frank said.

Lambert waggled his head back and forth so much that his body swung from the iron ring. “See? That’s the thanks I get for swinging by to pick him up at that lake and then getting him past those cops at the state line! You crocodile-looking, pus-colored motherfucker!”

“The scent of Half Breed is coming from him,” Frank whispered.

“Was he bitten?” Cole asked.

“No, but he’s still turning.”

Even though Frank’s eyes were yellow and lidless, the sincerity in them was easy to read. Cole looked over to Lambert and approached him with spear in hand. When Lambert tried to explain himself or spit insults at either of them, Cole didn’t listen. When the skinny inmate winced at the sound of a crunching bone inside him, Cole knew that Frank had been right.

Tearing at Lambert’s clothes and turning him like a slab of beef on a hook, Cole said, “I don’t see any wounds big enough to infect him as a Half Breed. There’s barely any scratches on him! I just don’t see how they’re doing this!”

“We weren’t attacked by Half Breeds until we got here,” Frank insisted. “They swarmed us and tipped the truck, but none got in here. I’ve never seen someone turn without being wounded. Usually, they’re hurt so badly they can’t even move.”

Every inch of Lambert’s body trembled, and he clenched his teeth with so much force that bubbles of spit were forced out between his lips. “The Full Blood’s doing it! I can hear him sending that shit to me!”

“What shit?”

“Whatever is doing this! Just distract him! He needs to concentrate. Hurry !”

Outside, the howling of the Half Breeds grew to a wailing crescendo. Something about it was different than the sounds that filled the air before. Their voices had more substance than any sound that had ripped across that battlefield so far. Automatic fire erupted from several different sources, but not even an artillery strike could have prevented Cole from stepping out of the overturned truck to get a look at what was happening.

Although there were considerably fewer soldiers on their feet, every one of them had weapons to their shoulders and was unleashing a steady stream of gunfire at the remaining Half Breeds in their sights. Those creatures had become the easiest targets since they’d set their paws firmly against the ground and craned their necks to point their heads at the sky. As the clouds continued to sail to the east, moonlight filtered through to rain down upon the furry backs of all the shapeshifters singing up to them. Away from the soldiers, Cecile was in her four-legged form, rearing up like a frightened horse and churning her front paws in the air while Ben and another Mongrel attempted to herd her away from the others.

Randolph gripped the dark gray Full Blood by the neck and roared directly into his face. Suddenly, his head snapped upward, but not to gaze at the moon. As Esteban stood, he brought Randolph with him, lifting the other Full Blood by the claws that he’d sunk into his belly. Randolph squirmed but was quickly stilled when Esteban clamped a hand around his throat. Pulling him closer, Esteban growled, “Picked the wrong side, Burkis.” Maintaining a firm grasp beneath Randolph’s chin, he pulled his other hand out to open the Full Blood’s stomach. He dropped Randolph like so much garbage, raised his face to the moon and howled.

Lambert’s screaming became louder. Without wasting another moment, Cole slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and charged.

“Focus on the smaller ones!” Jessup shouted to the remaining soldiers. “We’ve got the big ones!”