Chapter 5

  The first werewolf slammed into the cabin wall. Claws scraped across the logs. Elias dropped to one knee behind the gun port he'd cut into the east wall.

  Through the gap, he saw figures moving between the trees. They'd surrounded the cabin, blocking every way out.

  A second impact shook the north wall. Scratching sounds came from above.

  "They're probing," Elias said, tracking movement through his gun port. "Looking for the best way in. When they attack for real, it'll be fast and coordinated."

  A low howl rose from the forest, answered immediately by others from different directions.

  Elias lined up his sights on a shadow that had moved too far from cover. "Get ready, Marshal. Here they come again."

  Three werewolves hit simultaneously, two charging the front wall, one dropping from the roof. Heavy footsteps circled toward the rear wall.

  The roof creature landed hard. Elias fired through his gun port. Bullet punched through its chest. The werewolf dropped and didn't move.

  Elias levered another round into the chamber.

  The frontal assault hit the cabin wall. Claws scraped against logs. One werewolf found the gun port Silas was using and thrust a clawed hand through the opening.

  Silas jerked back, then fired point-blank into the creature's arm. The silver bullet tore through fur and flesh. The werewolf screamed and pulled back, clutching the ruined limb.

  Silas stared at his rifle, then at the retreating creature.

  "Aim for center mass!" Elias shouted, levering another round into his chamber. "Silver bullets will drop them fast!"

  A werewolf appeared at Elias's gun port. Massive head, yellow eyes, fangs. Elias fired. Silver bullet through the brain. The creature collapsed against the wall.

  More were coming. They spread out wider this time, staying farther from the gun ports. Elias could hear them on the roof again, testing the stone chimney.

  Silas was firing steadily from his position, his shots finding their marks. One werewolf took a bullet to the chest and went down immediately, convulsing as the metal burned through its system.

  "Got one!" Silas called.

  Boy's staying calm.

  Elias shifted to the west wall where heavy impacts suggested another coordinated attack. Through his gun port, he saw two werewolves working together, one boosting the other toward the roof while the first provided cover.

  He put a bullet through the lower werewolf's spine, dropping it instantly. The second creature fell with it, landing hard in the dirt beside the cabin.

  The attacks came faster now, quick strikes at different points. A werewolf hit the rear wall, claws tearing at the heavy timber. Elias spun around and fired through the wood, blind-shooting based on sound. A yelp of pain.

  Silas had switched to his pistol, the rifle empty. His shots hit vital spots now. One werewolf took a bullet through the eye and dropped immediately.

  Werewolves charged, tested the defenses, took casualties, and fell back. Then charged again from a different angle. Each assault hit a new weak point.

  Something's not right.

  The howls outside changed. Sharper now, angry. The attacks became frantic, werewolves charging without cover, striking wildly at the walls.

  They're losing. Pack's taking too many casualties.

  Dawn broke over the mountains. Light came through the gun ports.

  Time's on our side now.

  A final assault came as the sun cleared the peaks. Three werewolves charged simultaneously. Elias dropped two while Silas took down the third with a shot to the heart.

  Then silence.

  Elias waited five full minutes before moving away from his gun port. Outside, bodies lay scattered around the cabin. Blood trails led into the forest where two had dragged themselves away.

  Nine total. Lost two, but they won't survive long with silver in their systems.

  "Is it over?" Silas asked. His hands shook as he reloaded his weapons.

  "For now." Elias checked the cabin's defenses. Claw marks gouged deep into the logs. One gun port had been partially widened by claws. "They'll be back, though. With more numbers."

  Elias shifted uncomfortably. We work well together.

  "You did good, Marshal," he said. "Most men would've panicked after the first charge."

  Elias's shoulders straightened slightly. Fighting alongside someone competent, it reminded him of something he'd lost when he chose isolation.

  Don't mean nothing. One battle don't make a partnership.

  Outside, the sun was fully up. Claw marks covered the cabin's exterior walls. Blood stained the ground where the first werewolf had fallen. Even the stone chimney showed scratches where claws had tested for weaknesses.

  "They found me," Elias said. "Took them six years, but they found me."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Means this place is finished." Elias began gathering weapons from their racks, checking each one for damage. "Pack knows where I am now. They'll be back with more numbers, better tactics."

  "So what do we do?" Silas asked.

  "We don't do anything. I find new ground. You ride back to town and report that the situation's beyond your jurisdiction."

  "I told you, I can't abandon those people."

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  "Then you'll die with them." Elias slung his rifle across his shoulder and headed for the door. "Your choice."

  But as he stepped outside, he could hear Silas following. The young marshal wasn't giving up.

  Elias mounted his horse and rode away from the cabin without looking back. Behind him, he could hear Silas saddling his own mount. The marshal was going to follow, no matter what orders he'd been given.

  Should lose him in the rocks. Send him back to town where he belongs.

  But Elias found himself taking the easier trails, the ones Silas could follow without too much difficulty. The trail led north, through country that grew more familiar with each mile. Country Elias hadn't seen in six years.

  Blood Moon Ranch. Where it all started.

  As they climbed higher into the mountains, Elias's hands tightened on the reins. Caroline's laugh echoing through the pines. Emma practicing with her wooden rifle in the yard. Lily chasing butterflies through the meadow.

  All dead. All because I wasn't there when they needed me.

  By afternoon, they reached the ridge overlooking the valley where Blood Moon Ranch had once stood. Elias reined his horse to a stop, staring down at the ruins below.

  The main house was gone, blackened foundation and scattered stones. The barn had collapsed into itself, charred timbers jutting upward. Even the well house had been destroyed, though the stone-lined well itself remained intact.

  Home... Was home…

  Elias's breath caught. Every burned timber held a memory. Every scattered stone represented something he'd built with his own hands.

  Everything I built. Everything I loved. Gone.

  Silas had stopped his horse beside Elias and remained quiet.

  Boy knows when to keep his mouth shut. That's rare.

  They rode down into the valley in silence. The meadow where Caroline had planted wildflowers was overgrown now. But the flowers were still there, descendants of the ones she'd chosen, growing wild and free.

  She'd like that. Always said flowers should choose their own ground.

  Elias dismounted at the edge of what had been the front yard. The porch where he'd sat with Caroline on summer evenings was nothing but ash and broken stone. The kitchen window where she'd waved goodbye on that last morning was gone entirely.

  October fifteenth. Last time I saw her alive.

  He walked through the ruins slowly, his boots crunching on charred wood and broken glass.

  "This is where it happened," he said finally. "Blood Moon Ranch. What the newspaper called an 'animal attack of unknown origin.'"

  Silas said nothing, but Elias could feel him listening intently.

  "I was in town getting supplies for winter. Left them alone because I thought they'd be safe." Elias kicked at a piece of burned timber.

  He pointed to where the kitchen had stood. "It was just past sunset when they came. Blood moon rising over the mountains."

  The memories came flooding back, clearer than they'd been in years. What he'd found when he rode home that night.

  "I could see the smoke from the ridge. Buildings burning." Elias's voice went flat. "But I kept hoping..."

  "I found Caroline first," Elias continued. "In the yard, between the house and the barn. She'd made a stand there, trying to protect the girls. Had her rifle in her hands, empty cartridges scattered around her."

  He walked to the spot where his wife had fallen, now just another patch of weedy ground.

  "Six empty shells. She fought hard." Elias's jaw tightened. "Regular bullets… Did about as much good as throwing rocks."

  "Emma was behind her mother. Still had Caroline's spare rifle in her hands." Elias's voice cracked slightly. "Lily was behind the water barrel. Six years old, clutching that wooden horse she carried everywhere."

  He walked toward the back of the property, where three wooden crosses stood beneath an old oak tree. The family gravesite, the only part of the ranch he'd built after the attack.

  The only part that mattered.

  The crosses were weathered now, the names he'd carved barely visible. But Elias could read them without looking: Caroline Granger, beloved wife and mother. Emma Granger, age twelve. Lily Granger, age six.

  My girls. My beautiful girls.

  "I buried them the next morning," Elias said, standing before the graves. "Worked alone in ground still soft from autumn rain. No words spoken at the burial. What words could encompass such loss?"

  He knelt and touched Caroline's cross with trembling fingers.

  Silas stared at Elias. "That's why you won't give up it's personal."

  "Was personal. Now it's just what I do." Elias turned away from the graves. "All I know how to do anymore."

  As he stood there, another voice joined the phantom sounds on the wind. Clearer than the others, more real than memory.

  Caroline's voice, soft but unmistakable: "You couldn't save us, Eli. But you can save him."

  Elias spun around, half-expecting to see his wife standing behind him. But there was only Silas, watching with careful eyes that held no judgment.

  Not real. Just guilt and loneliness playing tricks.

  But Caroline's voice continued, stronger now: "Don't let him die alone, Eli. Like we did."

  His hands clenched into fists. His family had died alone while he was in town. Now another good man was walking toward the same fate, and Elias was planning to let it happen.

  Can't save everyone. Learned that the hard way.

  "You're not being asked to save everyone," Caroline's voice replied. "Just him. Just this once, don't let fear make you cruel."

  Elias closed his eyes. The cabin, the endless hunts, the careful distance from everything that might matter. All of it suddenly seemed like elaborate cowardice.

  What if I fail again? What if he dies because I tried to help?

  "What if he dies because you didn't?"

  Behind him, Silas cleared his throat quietly. "Mr. Granger? We should probably head back before dark."

  Elias opened his eyes and turned to face the young marshal. In Silas's expression, he could see determination mixed with hope. The same look Caroline used to get.

  Boy's gonna get himself killed with or without my help. Question is whether I let him die alone.

  Caroline's voice whispered one more time: "The children would want you to help. They always loved your stories about helping people."

  The memory came unbidden. Emma and Lily gathered around the fireplace, begging for stories about his days as a lawman. They'd loved the tales of justice served and wrongs made right. In their eyes, their father had been a hero.

  What would they think of what I've become?

  The answer came without hesitation. They'd be disappointed. Ashamed. Caroline had married a man who stood up for others, not one who hid in the mountains while good people died.

  Caroline's right. Can't let the boy face this alone.

  "Alright, Marshal," Elias cleared his throat. "I'll show you what I know."

  Silas's face lit up with relief and gratitude. "Thank you—"

  "One week," Elias continued, cutting him off. "If you can't handle what I teach you, or if you get yourself nearly killed again, I'm done."

  Already regretting this. Caroline's voice or not, this is probably a mistake.

  "You follow my lead, ask questions when you don't understand, and do exactly what I tell you when the shooting starts."

  "Agreed."

  "And if I say run, you run. Don't try to be a hero. Dead heroes don't save anybody."

  "Understood."

  Elias looked one more time at the three wooden crosses beneath the oak tree. Forgive me if I get him killed. One week. That's all I'm promising.

  "We'll start with the basics," he said, turning back toward their horses. "See if you can survive that before we worry about the town."

  "What basics?"

  Elias mounted his horse and looked back at the ruins of everything he'd once loved. "How to hunt werewolves. And how to kill them before they kill you."

  As they rode away from Blood Moon Ranch, Elias could swear he heard Caroline's voice one last time, carried on the wind through the pines: "Thank you, Eli. Thank you for choosing to care again."

  The sun was setting as they made camp in the foothills. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new dangers, new opportunities to fail the people counting on him.

  But tonight, he wasn't alone.

  And that, Caroline would have said, was how the healing began.