Hannah Pole - Song Of The Wolf

‘Will’, the man in question, stepped out from behind the large rack of shelving. He was smaller than the blond with messy hair and baggy trousers.

“What?”

“Where did that submarine get shipped from?”

“Uh, there’s a little dock in town, it’s tiny, big enough for maybe one car to tow one boat. Probably there.” He grunted, nodding at Leyth. “Mate, you are huge.”

“Thanks.” Leyth nodded back. “And thanks for your help, boys.”

As the two of them left, the beasty man stalked back to the kettle and continued with the tea he was making. Dax could have sworn he was singing Whitney Houston as he did so. What a sight that made.

Dax made quick work of texting Tam to let her know what was doing, and she hit him back instantly, letting them know they were reviewing CCTV footage, and to ping her the address when they found it.

With that they went on a small harbour hunt. Google maps showed only one likely option; it was quite literally a gap between buildings that led to the river running through Chatham. It was tiny on the map yet when they arrived at the spot there was nothing but shops and houses.

“Are you sure this is it?”

“Yup. Our GPS dot is literally on top of it.”

“Well, crap. Looks like it lied,” Leyth snorted, eyeing the building in front of them. It was fairly nondescript, brick walls and a wooden door. The windows had heavy curtains behind them and that was it. The walls were covered in the soot and grime of age and they looked as though they had stood there for decades.

Dax swore in frustration leaning against the building, cursing again as his shoulder came away covered in black.

The wall had smudged where his shoulder had been, the dirt coming away easily. The brick underneath was bright red.

“Now why would a building be covered in oil?” Leyth said, running a finger across the cement holding the bricks in place. That too was clean as a whistle once the oil came off.

“To give the impression of age?” Dax grinned, eyeing the door.

“Why would anyone want a house to look old and grimy?”

“Only if they didn’t want anyone to notice it.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Leyth glanced over at Dax, who eyed the street they were on. There were no CCTV cameras, it was a fairly old street, and most of the buildings looked deserted, the shops empty.

“Do it,” Dax barked. Leyth didn’t wait a heartbeat and in one swift movement sent a heavy kick at the wooden door, smashing the lock and sending the thing splintering open.

Only then did all hell break loose.

The two of them thundered through the door, slamming the rickety wood shut behind them. Leyth barked out a curse, falling into a defensive crouch and sliding his nine-millimetre pistol out. Dax hit the floor, blood welling steadily from a gunshot wound on his shoulder.

Whoever was here had been waiting for them, silencer and all. They hadn’t even heard the shot, it was only when something small and hard hit him in the shoulder that he knew something was off. Way off.

“Fuck,” Dax screamed, snapping his Glock free and training it on the interior of the room, all from his position on the floor.

It was one hell of a building. There were no rooms or floors, just the shell of a house, cement floor and brick walls. It was completely empty but for an enormous boat dominating the middle of the room. Dax’s eyes slowly began to adjust to the gloom of the building. Picking out a small table and chairs on which stood bottles of beer and what looked like a half played game of poker. At the end of the room stood two huge wooden doors, big enough to fit a boat through no doubt, and he would put money on the fact that those doors led out to the water. There was no one else in sight, but there had to be someone here. That damn bullet hadn’t come from nowhere. Unless they had run out through those massive doors, they had to be on the boat. There was nowhere else to hide.

The thing itself was absolutely huge, and had been painted black, recently if the stench of paint was anything to go by. It was stood on top of a large metal trailer, with a large cabin and a rail running the entire way around the deck. There were two ladders stood next to the boat on both sides, and no doubt a set of steps at the back.

Dax glanced briefly at Leyth, who signalled them forward. They kept to the underside of the boat, the girth of the thing allowing them shelter from the shooter above. When they came to the ladders, Dax ran out so his back was against the brick wall, pointing the muzzle of his Glock up at the cabin. He awkwardly waved a hand at Leyth, letting him know it was clear for the moment. Gritting his teeth and biting back a curse, he held his injured arm tightly against him. It would heal in no time, but damn that shit hurt!

Being the injured party, he was better shooting from the ground rather than being caught on a ladder, so he was smart enough not to argue the point as Leyth quickly climbed the metal steps. Dax held his breath, waiting for any sign of the enemy. Utter silence. Unnatural silence.

Leyth scanned the top of the boat with the muzzle of his gun. When nothing happened, he carefully stepped onto the surface of the boat, the thing rocking slightly and creaking with the motion. It took several seconds for him to check the deck and cabin. And another few painstakingly quiet seconds for him to check the belly of the boat. When he reappeared, he walked casually over to the side and leaned down.

“Nothing,” he barked, lowering his gun. “The boat’s empty, and I can see the entire room from up here.”

“Well, crap.”

“You don’t think they went out of those –” The rest of the sentence was cut off as something huge and black fell from the ceiling all but covering Leyth. Dax barked out a curse as another huge black beast dropped on top of him at the same time. Hand-shaped talons scraped at his wounded shoulder as a beak the size of his thigh snapped dangerously close to his jugular.

Dropping his gun as he fell to the floor, Dax swore. Rolling out of the way as those huge talons grabbed at him again.

“What the HELL?!” He bit out as the black thing flew off, circling the roof of the building and aiming itself at him once again. Should have checked the damn ceiling! he thought, reaching for the knives strapped to his chest.

He knew he wouldn’t have time to get to his Glock; the weapon had clattered well out of reach. The huge black bird screeched, the noise all but bursting his eardrums as it flew at him. It was an ugly bastard, human shaped from head to foot, with black-feathered bits of flapping skin that might pass for wings stretched from the man-bird’s arms down to its legs. Those ugly wings seemed to flap awkwardly, unnaturally. The crow’s deformed face still looked human but had a large beak in place of its mouth and sharp claw on its still human looking hands and feet.

Dax rolled onto his back, not daring to stand. He needed to be a small target not a tall one. The crow flew directly at him, picking up speed. As it came within range, Dax could smell death and rot. Definitely a tomb, and yup, there they were, huge completely black eyes. Bastards.

Shifters that had joined the Circle and become tombs could only shift-shape if the Magi running the band of rebels willed it. And the fact that the tomb’s eyes were black meant that the Magi was still possessing the tomb’s body. The soulless black pits acted as mirrors, so they could see what was happening through the tomb’s eyes from whatever corner of the Earth they were hiding in.

The bird hit him with great force, raking its claw-like feet over his body. Thankfully his Kevlar-reinforced combats took most of the bite out of it. But it didn’t stop those deadly talons ripping their way through some of the material and sinking deeply into his flesh. He hissed as warm blood ran across his leg.