No Such Thing As Werewolves (52 page)

“We don’t have time for this,” he said, stabbing a finger at the pyramid. “Blair and Liz are down there. They’re going to need whatever help we can provide. Both of you furry types should get your asses down there and help. I promise Sheila will be safe. She looks like death, and she probably needs to get to lower elevation, or she might get pulmonary edema. I’ll get her back to the car where she can rest. Is everyone happy with that?”

The silver nodded grudgingly. Cyntia looked like she might argue, but when the silver bounded over the cliff and down the ridge, she trailed after. That left him with Sheila.

“So I’m guessing you know all about our impending zombie friends?” he asked, relaxing enough to turn back to the camp. He didn’t trust her yet, but if she couldn’t breathe, she wasn’t much of a threat. Besides, if she was on the level, Blair might need her help deciphering everything in the pyramid. Assuming they’d live.

“Zombies?” she asked, obviously confused.

“I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and helping her down the path back to the car.
 

Chapter 75- Casualties

Liz draped the shadows around her, prowling the darkness as she loped down the corridor and into what could only be the central chamber. She paused at the entryway, surveying the room before her. Several chrome stand lamps provided a modicum of illumination. She assumed they must run on some sort of batteries, because they’d apparently survived Blair cutting the power.

The lights revealed five obelisks, one in each corner and a larger one in the center. They’d clearly been constructed by the same culture that had built this place, and they clashed sharply with the more recent additions. A pair of bulky black turrets atop tripods sat on opposite sides of the room. Each had a wicked-looking barrel and a small red dot that ceaselessly scanned the darkness for targets. They passed right over her seemingly without notice.

The hall opposite the doorway she stood in had the most obvious modifications. A wide semicircle of concrete had been erected, with a narrow steel door set in the center. Four slits had been left in the stonework, probably to allow people to fire out at targets without exposing themselves.

On either side of the stonework stood a guard in the same armor she’d fought in San Diego. They too watched the darkness for targets, the faceless masks they wore probably allowing them to see in darkness, somehow. Their vigilance was hardly surprising. Dousing the lights had no doubt alerted them.

Liz considered the situation. Blair had to survive to reach the Mother, no matter the cost. Then, if they were very lucky, the Mother would help them deal with Mohn. If not, all of this would be for nothing. The pyramid only had one exit, so everything Mohn could bring to bear was about to come down on them like an avalanche.

They had to get inside before reinforcements arrived. They’d have to deal with the turrets, kill the armored guards, and then break down that steel door. It was a tall order whether they were werewolves or not.

Liz, can you hear me?
Blair’s voice echoed in her mind.

“I can hear you,” she whispered, almost soundlessly. “Can you see what I’m seeing?”

I can.
Blair’s disembodied voice said.
Let me deal with the turrets. When the guards come for me, you and Elmira deal with the guards and get that door down.

“Got it,” she murmured, moving silently down the ramp into the chamber. She circled to the far side, maybe twenty feet from the armored guard on the right. She could be on him in a heartbeat as soon as Blair had the man’s attention.

Liz held her breath as she realized she needed to pee. That almost drew a hysterical laugh. It was just so incongruous to the situation. But she gritted her teeth and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.

Blair’s silver form appeared in the doorway for just an instant before he blurred to the middle of the room, near the central obelisk. He was directly between the pair of turrets. She wanted to drag him into the shadows but resisted the urge as both turrets swiveled in his direction. They moved more quickly than the guards, though each armored form had begun to react as well.

Her heart leapt into her throat as the turrets began to chatter. A stream of brass shells ejected from the top of each as bright gouts of flame erupted from each muzzle. The rounds streaked toward Blair faster than the eye could follow. He moved even more quickly, blurring away in a roll that carried him to the far side of the obelisk. That would shelter him from the guards, at least.

What he’d set in motion took a moment to register. Blair had been directly between the turrets. Once he’d moved, the rounds they had fired continued forward and into the turret on the opposite side of the room. Both boxy contraptions exploded into sparks as they were knocked onto their sides, severely damaged from the friendly fire.

She turned her attention back to the guards, who’d already begun a flanking maneuver to get a line of sight to Blair’s hiding place. Liz had a perfect view of the closest guard’s back, and she used it to devastating effect. She leapt forward, tackling the armor to the ground with a screech of metal. She slammed the helmet against the marble floor as hard as she could once, twice, and then a third time. The faceplate cracked but didn’t shatter. Damn, these things were tough.

Before she could do more, her opponent reacted, twisting his body to get an arm free. He extended his metal claws, scything them through the tendon of her right leg as he bucked his entire body. The move sent her toppling to the floor and allowed him to roll away. He came to his feet, pausing for a split second to eye the rifle he’d dropped when she tackled him. She knew he’d never make it, and he seemed to reach the same conclusion, cracked faceplate swiveling back to her.

She rose to her feet, baring her fangs and willing the injury to heal as she rested her weight on her good leg. The soldier didn’t give her time, launching himself at her with both sets of claws. She caught his arms, but he came down on her with all his weight. Her bad leg gave way, and they fell to the marble, both straining for the upper hand.

Liz twisted suddenly, rolling on top of her opponent. She brought her face down in a vicious head butt, finally shattering the faceplate. The man within was in his early thirties. He had a thick black goatee and silver sunglasses. It was the same man she’d fought in San Diego. He snarled up at her. “Is time to die, little wolf.”

She had just enough time to think he was overconfident before she realized her mistake. With her body atop his, she made a perfect target for the slits set into the man-made bunker Mohn had constructed. Automatic weapons’ fire thundered through the room as pain blossomed all over her body. Liz scrambled off her opponent with a shriek, rolling back into the shadows in desperate flight.

Be calm, Ka-Dun. These wounds will heal, though more slowly than you might wish. Had you not injected yourself with poisonous silver, it would happen more quickly, but we cannot change the past.

Great, an ‘I told you so’ from a voice in her head. Liz gritted her teeth and limped to the base of an obelisk as she sized up the room. Elmira was wrestling with the other armored soldier. One of her arms hung limply at her side, but she used the other to grab her opponent’s armored arm and hurl his body into the door. The impact made a sizable dent, but the door had clearly been made to withstand worse.
 

Elmira leapt on the soldier, pinning him to the ground with her good arm as she savaged the armor around his neck with her fangs. It was an intelligent move because it put her in a blind spot the weapon slits couldn’t reach. Unfortunately Elmira didn’t seem to have taken Liz’s opponent into account. The man with the goatee rolled to his feet. His armor rocked backward as four missiles streaked from the boxy launcher atop his shoulder.

They corkscrewed into Elmira’s back, all four detonating in a wave of light and sound that blinded Liz as it launched her backward. Her ears rang painfully as she shook her head and tried to get back to her feet. The explosion filled the room with smoke and debris, but she could still make out the destruction.

Two of the obelisks were nothing but rubble now, and Mohn’s bunker was scored and battered, though the door still held. There wasn’t enough left of Elmira to identify her, and Liz realized with cold certainty that Elmira was dead. The blast had also caught her opponent, who was struggling weakly near one of the intact obelisks.

Rage overcame Liz. She ignored her wounds, charging across the room and toward the downed guard with the Russian accent. She planted her wounded leg atop his back, ignoring the pain as she ground his chest against the floor. Then she seized his leg with both hands and ripped. It came off with a metallic pop and a spray of blood.

The man gave an agonized shriek and started thrashing wildly, but Liz leaned heavily atop him. She kept him pinned as she prepared to deliver the killing blow.

Chapter 76- Waking the Mother

Blair came to his feet behind one of the obelisks, surveying the room in horror. This place was of incalculable worth, with both historical and practical value. Mohn had just destroyed it with automatic weapons’ fire and frigging missiles. Much of the room had been reduced to rubble, yet the bunker the soldiers had erected was still a barrier.

Elmira was gone. Of that, he was sure. Even if he hadn’t seen the explosion, he could no longer feel his link to her mind. Liz was still there, a ball of rage as she leapt atop the sole surviving guard and ripped off the poor man’s leg. That instant, Blair recognized Yuri. He felt a twinge of pity, but it was only a twinge. The werewolves hadn’t chosen this war. Mohn had.
 

He turned his focus back to the bunker. How the hell was he going to get inside? A pair of gray-green eyes peered out through one of the gun slits, falling on Liz. Blair blurred, accelerating both body and mind. In an instant those eyes could be replaced by a gun, so he had to strike now.

A spike of pure will shot across the intervening space, glowing with faint blue light as it struck the owner of the gray-green eyes. Then Blair
was
that woman, Corporal Yasmin a twenty-six year old who’d joined Mohn for the money after a stint in the Marines.
 

With her eyes, Blair surveyed the inside of the bunker, taking in the other three soldiers. All three bore familiar-looking rifles, each barrel inches away from the slits cut into the stone. None of them said anything as Blair stepped behind them. He calmly pressed the barrel of Yasmin’s rifle to the skull of the nearest soldier and fired.

The man went down in a spray of blood, and before either surviving soldier could react, she fired again. This time she sent a hail of bullets, which lanced into both targets. The second was knocked from his feet, and Blair continued firing until both stop moving. Then he walked Yasmin to the dented bunker door and threw back the metal bar holding it closed.
 

He pushed it open and dropped his rifle, stepping into the central chamber. He felt a dim surge of fear from Yasmin’s trapped consciousness as she saw Liz’s bloodied form just a few feet away. Liz-wolf’s fangs flashed, and the auburn wolf was on Yasmin. Blair fled her mind and returned to his own.

Blair lumbered into a run, shaking away the vertigo from so rapidly changing his perspective. He sprinted past Liz, trying not to watch as she tore Yasmin apart. He sprinted through the doorway and into the bunker, not bothering to close the door after him. He had no idea if it would serve as any kind of barrier when Mohn’s reinforcements arrived, and there were only a precious few seconds left.
 

He lurched to a halt as he entered the sarcophagus chamber, gasping as he had his first real view of the room’s majesty. He’d been dying when he last saw it, unable to fully appreciate the marvel of it all. Seven clear sarcophagi radiated from the center of the room like spokes on a wheel. They were covered in an array of gemstones, rubies and emeralds and diamonds. Pulses of light flowed between each at irregular intervals, flowing from gem to gem on invisible pathways.

The walls were a pristine white, covered in a sea of flowing silver glyphs that rearranged as he watched. The substance was something like marble but with its own inner light. It provided soft illumination that pulsed in time to a heartbeat. The heartbeat of the Mother, he’d be willing to bet.
 

He crossed the room to stand next to the only occupied sarcophagus. The room was beautiful, but it all paled in comparison to the woman within.

The woman was slender and petite, perhaps five feet tall. She looked tiny in the massive sarcophagus, which probably could have held a full-sized female werewolf. She lay on a bed of her own silver hair, waist long and lustrous despite millennia of stasis. She had delicate features that made her appear childlike, though she might very well have been the oldest living person in the world.

Her clothing was exquisite, like nothing he’d ever seen. She wore a clean white wrap around her breasts and a matching skirt that fell to her thighs, each embroidered with silver runes. Her neck, wrists, and ankles were all adorned with a variety of jewelry. Each piece was made of gold, most containing rubies or diamonds, though there were a few emeralds as well. Were those gems significant? The colors matched the sarcophagus. Any one would make a man rich.

“Moment of truth,” he muttered, wondering exactly how to wake her. He should have asked Ahiga when he’d had the chance. Surely the old man would have said something unless the method was blindingly obvious.