Chapter 34
Dean
"Doug, don't move," I was saying, thinking hard about how to get out of this fuckfest of a situation. This wasn't the plan. Why couldn't anything ever go according to plan?
The lone werewolf growled, his head low and angry as he leapt for Doug. He tackled him to the ground, pinning him down with his jaws around his neck. Turning and facing me, the wolf seemed to smile, toying with me. "Get the fuck off of him," I said quietly, glancing around the room. Doug had an affinity for nicer things, hence his collection of vintage cars. Under the glow of the fluorescent lights, I saw a glint of something metal on his desk. There was a moment's hesitation as I jumped up onto the desk. If I was wrong, I ran the risk of getting bitten myself.
I took the chance.
Grabbing the shining silver letter opener from Doug's desk, I leapt off of the mahogany and drove it between the shoulder blades of the werewolf as it stood over Doug. It yelped and cried as I pushed it as far as it would go into its' spine and let go, heaving the wolf off of Doug and throwing him across the room. "Doug, talk to me man," I gasped, throwing the desk chair out of the way as well. "Did it bite you? Did it draw blood?"
Doug was gasping for air, his face red with exertion. The almost-seventy-year-old leaned on his elbows as I knelt beside him, supporting his shoulders and head. I couldn't see any blood, but that didn't always mean we were in the clear. I flashed to Grace getting shot in the woods, so many years ago, and remembered that she didn't bleed right away, either.
"Doug, you've gotta say something," I said changing positions on the ground. "Doug?"
"Dean," he said, supporting his own weight, finally. "What the hell was that?"
"That was a little snapshot into my past," I said, helping him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
He inspected himself, staring down at his suit, and moving his fingers. "I think so. It clamped down hard on my throat, but it's like it was waiting for you."
"Yeah, I got the same feeling," I said, backing away. "Look, Doug, I'll explain everything later, but I've gotta go, man."
Nodding slightly, he answered vaguely. "Yeah, sure."
I bolted out the door to his office, jumping over the dead werewolf, and pulled out my phone, dialing Grace. "Pick up, baby. Pick up," I whispered, running at full tilt. I ripped open the door to my car and started her up, peeling rubber as I pulled out of the parking lot. Grace's phone rang over and over, and finally, getting her voicemail, I hung up and dialed Sam.
"Hey," he said, answering on the second ring. "Thought you would be on the way to pick up Serra."
"They attacked today," I yelled, breathless into the speaker. "A werewolf just attacked me at the shop. No one attacked you?"
"Holy shit," Sam yelled back. "No! I haven't seen anything!"
"There was only one with me," I said, shaking my head and pushing the Impala to her limits. "That means the rest of the pack went after the girls." I glanced at the odometer as I passed a cop headed the other way on the highway. Watching him in the mirror, I let go of the gas pedal long enough to decide if he was going to follow me or not. He continued in his direction, so I floored it once again. "You're easily ten minutes closer to the Big House. Go to Grace. I'll go for Serra."
Nodding, Sam said, "Got it," and whipped the wheel of his El Camino around, headed for his sister-in-law.
…
I whipped into the parking lot of the hospital and left my car in the first handicap spot I pulled into and ran the steps, three at a time to get to the fourth floor. When I slammed the door open, I got angry stares from offended people that I would cause such a ruckus on the neo-natal floor. I trotted passed the informational desk and glanced around, hesitating on pulling my gun and having the cops called on me. Maybe they're not here yet? I thought to myself as I jogged down the hall. I rounded the familiar corner to the NICU and had flashes of memories shoot through my head from Liberty's stay right after she was born.
The windows of the nursery were dark and as I approached, I could see there was a hole in the reinforced safety glass. The nursery had been attacked. I turned slowly, surveying the damage. There were glass shards on the ground and blood drips, but that may have been from the werewolves breaking through the window. "Dean!" I heard my name echo through the hall and whipped around, expecting to see Serra, but Dr. Alana ran to greet me, her mascara smeared with tears.
"Alana," I greeted, "where's Serra?"
She was shaking her head as I turned to look at the movement through the window. Dr. Lindsey and a woman I recognized from Lib's stay in the NICU were on the other side of the glass, in the nursery, staring back at me.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her ever so slightly. "Alana, focus. Where is Serra?"
"Those things—they attacked us and then Serra pulled out two guns!" She was pretty close to hysterical. "They tried to come through the glass and Serra…she told us to stay in the nursery with the babies and she took off!"
"Where?" I insisted.
"Through the NICU. There's a security door at the end that she led them towards."
I took off at a run, yelling back at Alana. "How many?"
"Two!"
"Get back in the nursery!" I shouted, "Stay put until we come back to get you!"
…
I rounded the corner and stopped short, seeing blood everywhere. Pulling my Colt out of the back of my pants, I kicked off the safety and slowed down, trying to control my breathing and listening hard for movement. The blood pattern was telling…a scuffle and shots fired…a tackle through the blood splatter and a roll. I paused at the security door that led to the NICU. It was sealed shut with no blood on it, so whatever happened, happened after Serra slammed the door again. I glanced up and saw the body of a werewolf, stuck in it's shifted form. From where I stood, Serra had gotten it three times, twice in the chest and once in the neck as it tried to turn tail and run.
Following the blood trail, I came to the end of the hall, where there was an emergency exit with stairs that I knew was never used. It didn't even have an alarm. I had used the stairwell countless times when Grace was in the hospital after Lib was born because it was the fastest route to the parking garage. As I approached, I saw one of Serra's guns, the suppressor still attached, up against the edge of the door. I bent to pick it up, checking the clip.
Empty.
I tucked her gun into the back of my pants and pushing the door open gently, I listened for echoes with my own gun at the ready.
I could hear the growls and grunts from both Serra and the werewolf she fought a floor or two below me. I took the steps three at a time on my way down to help my sister.
One of the largest werewolves I had ever seen was thrown against the railing, blood pouring from a wound on its neck. As it fell against the bars, I unloaded three rounds, hoping to at least graze it as it leaned. I missed completely, but at least I drew its attention away from Serendipity for the moment.
"Serra!" I shouted, "Are you okay?"
There was a growl loud enough to drown out her response, if she had one. I took the next two flights quickly, trying to catch up to her. The sound of a door crashing open and shut again told me they had made it into the parking structure.
Diving through the exit, I watched as Serra held the angel blade that Grace had given her and defend herself in a way I had never seen. She moved with lightning speed and agility, bouncing around so fast that it was hard to follow her. The werewolf was wounded countless times and dripped blood as he attempted again and again to bite or scratch her. She was always too quick, dodging out of the way at the last second.
The wolf must have smelled me. He turned slowly, breathing heavily and seemed to smile, thinking I was a new and easy target. I pulled my Colt and at the same time, tossed Grace's tiny .38 special high into the air. "Serra, catch," I yelled as I raised my own gun. She caught it easily out of the air and aimed. I only had one other round left in my .45, but Serra was, once again, considered armed and dangerous.
We fired at the same time; my Colt unleashed a hit to the werewolf's shoulder, twisting it on impact, bringing him to the ground in slow motion. From twenty yards away, Serendipity unloaded the .38, all six shots dug deep into its head. With a final thump, it hit the ground, warped and broken.
I finally looked up at Serra and sighed, happy to see her in one piece. She smiled, exhausted, and walked towards me, limping slightly as she approached. "Are you okay? Did it bite you?"
She shook her head, reaching for my shoulder for support. "No, no, I'm clean. Fucker took me down the steps, hard the first two floors and bent my fucking knee back weird. Pretty sure I tore a ligament or two."
I stared down at her, checking her for other damage. She was bleeding pretty profusely from her scalp and had a few bruises beginning to show across her face through the dirt and sweat, but other than that, she was smiling.
"Come on, sister. We ain't done yet," I said, leading her back through the parking garage towards the Impala.
She glanced up at me and hobbled to the passenger side. "Is Grace okay?"
"I don't know," I said, "I haven't been able to get a hold of her. I sent Sam."
"I'm surprised you didn't go to her first," she said, reaching under the seat for more ammo. She loaded the .38 with the hollow points that were under the seat.
Shaking my head, I pushed my car to her limits again. Her engine roared as we flew down the highway, back towards the Big House. "Didn't have the time. Sam was closer."
"How many came for you?" she asked, taking her gun out of my pants without a thought and taking off the suppressor.
"One," I answered, glancing at her.
She made a face, terror gripping her in much the same way it had me. "Two for me."
"Three for Grace," I finished, setting my jaw.