Entwined Realms Volume One(2)

The fucker was heavier than any bat he’d ever swung. One creature ran to mow him down, and at the last moment Jack went down to his knees, swinging the sword at the creature’s thigh.

The sword sliced clean through, severing leg from body. The creature fell forward and hit the ground with a hard thud. Before it could move, Jack drove the sword straight down into the creature’s chest where a human’s heart would be.

It worked. The creature exhaled in a death gasp. Jack pulled the sword out and again faced the fray.

“Detective, here!” called a voice, a shotgun thrust into Jack’s hands the moment he turned toward it. The gun settled against him in familiar comfort.

With several officers now firing shotguns and automatics the monsters were taking damage at a good rate. As their body count rose the largest of the monsters – who stayed toward the rear during the attack – threw his head back and released a high-pitched primal scream. The monsters turned from the station and retreated deeper into the city.

Retreated toward the hospital.

Oh God…

The bark of the captain’s voice overwhelmed the confusion. He took charge and centered the group of cops, breaking them into large teams to start search and rescue.

Jack stormed to the older man’s side. “Captain, my wife’s at the hospital, I’ve got to get to her.”

The older man shook his head, dismissing Jack without even bothering to look at him. “Not happening. In case you failed to notice, we are in a state of emergency. We have a disaster plan to follow, and we’re sticking to it.”

Jack’s hands curled into fists. Fear and anger and worry urged him to strike out against anything that stood between him and Lauren. This man was an obstacle to be eliminated. “My wife needs me.”

As if he could sense the younger man’s thoughts, the captain took a protective step back. “Those things ran into the city, straight in the direction of the hospital. It is unsafe to go there when we have no idea what the hell we are facing.” Turning toward other officers, the captain continued, “We need to start canvassing the surrounding areas, get survivors out and to safety. Miller, I want you to take your men and scour zone D. Direct everyone back to the safe haven.”

A firm hand on his shoulder prevented Jack from damaging both the captain and his career, a hand that belonged to his partner Hector Torres. Jack nodded at Hector’s unspoken command, saying nothing as the plans were finalized. Weapons were distributed, boundaries were gone over, and one by one the groups went.

After his group had cleared the precinct, Jack turned to Hector. “Torres-” he began, but the older Hispanic man shook his head, stopping the words.

“I know, Miller, you’re heading to the hospital. I’m surprised you lasted this long. Ana called me, she has the boys and they’re heading to safety now. Lauren asked her to come get them before she went to the hospital. You worry about your wife.”

“Thanks, man.”

Hector shrugged, black humor that spoke of long years on the force coming out as he responded, “Hope you make it back alive.”

“Just take care of my boys.” And Jack left to face the nightmares between him and Lauren.

The bite of autumn air froze his lungs as Jack continued his jog, shotgun at his side. Several monsters appeared, searching the area.

Damn, they heard that last gunshot.

One monster spotted him, pointing in his direction and leading the other creatures toward him.

Jack started shooting. He was hitting his targets with the accuracy born out of long hours at the gun range, but too soon the last round was fired.

Dropping the useless shotgun to the ground, he pulled out the large bowie knife from his waistband.

A howl rolled through the darkening night – deeper and fiercer than any howl he’d ever encountered on the ranch growing up. Jack should have been pissing his pants in terror, but right now was only numbness, too much seen and felt and dealt with today.

Bursting from the ruined buildings came the biggest wolves he had ever seen, big as shit. Except they weren’t wolves, they looked like wolves mixed with human. Some ran on two legs, some on all four. Broad barrel chests and long arms and legs thick with muscle, fur stuck out in stiff tufts, ears pointed and alert atop their skulls, short snouts that gleamed white, sharp teeth.

Werewolves? Are these werewolves?

They ran at the grey-skinned monsters, jumping from great distances to snap at the monsters faces and throats, claws leaving deep gouges and drawing out more green blood and viscous matter.

Creatures that only should exist in big-budget horror films fought each other. Even as blood and bodies marked the streets, he could only look on with a detached fascination.