Chapter 8

  Elias hit the ground outside the chapel and ran. Screams echoed from Main Street. Orange light flickered against the buildings. Smoke thick in the air.

  The town was burning.

  He moved toward the nearest fire. Flames climbing the wooden walls. Two figures stood in front of it. Werewolves. One held a torch.

  They hadn't seen him yet.

  Elias raised his revolver and fired twice. Both creatures went down before they could turn.

  A woman's scream cut through the night. Behind the burning building.

  He reloaded as he ran. Rounded the corner.

  Three werewolves circled a family pressed against a fence. Man, woman, and two children. The man held a pitchfork, his hands shook.

  The nearest werewolf lunged.

  Elias shot it through the head. It dropped mid-leap.

  The other two spun toward him. Yellow eyes reflecting firelight.

  Come on then.

  They charged. The first one closed fast. Elias sidestepped and put two rounds in its chest. It fell hard.

  The slower werewolf hesitated.

  Elias shot it twice. It staggered, tried to stay up. The third shot dropped it.

  The family stood frozen against the fence. The man still gripping his pitchfork.

  "Find Deputy Ellis," Elias said. "Move."

  The man nodded. Grabbed his wife and children and ran.

  Elias turned back toward Main Street. More screams. More fires.

  Not done yet.

  He scanned the ground near the chapel. Claw marks in the dirt. Deep gouges heading east. Merrick's trail.

  Elias followed it down the side street. Past some empty shops. Windows shattered, door hanging open.

  The tracks led toward the residential area. Smaller houses.

  A man ran past, carrying a child. Didn't even look at Elias. Behind him, an old woman struggled to close her door, fumbling with the lock.

  The claw marks turned north. Toward the edge of town. Then the trail got harder to follow. Other tracks crossing it. People running. Debris scattered across the street.

  Elias crouched, studying the ground. There. Deeper gouges. Fresh. Merrick was moving fast but not careful.

  A howl cut through the night. West of his position.

  The tracks continued north, but that howl meant another werewolf. Meant more people dying.

  Elias ran west.

  Two streets over, he found them. A werewolf had cornered a group against the side of a house. Five people. Men and women clutching whatever they'd grabbed when they ran. A frying pan. A chair leg.

  The werewolf stalked forward.

  Elias shot it twice in the back. It spun, snarling. He put the third round through its eye.

  "Move!" he shouted at the group.

  They scattered. Elias didn't wait to see where they went.

  Back to the trail. He retraced his steps, found where Merrick's tracks turned north. Followed them past the last row of houses.

  Fresh blood on the ground now. Merrick had killed someone here.

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  Elias moved carefully around the building. Checked the corners. Empty. But the blood trail continued past it, heading for the creek that ran along the town's edge.

  Movement ahead. Two shapes near the water. Werewolves crouched over something. Bodies.

  Too late for these.

  One werewolf looked up. Saw him and howled.

  They both charged.

  Elias fired. Caught the first one in the chest. It stumbled but kept coming. He fired again. It went down five feet from him.

  The second one was almost on him. Elias dropped low. Claws whistled over his head. He brought the revolver up and fired. The werewolf's head snapped back. It dropped.

  Merrick's trail crossed the creek. Elias followed it into the scrub brush on the far side. The tracks were clear here. Still heading north. Away from town.

  He’s Running.

  The brush thinned. Elias emerged onto a dirt road that ran along the northern edge of town. A few scattered homes were spread out.

  Three figures stood in the middle of the street. The one in the center held a torch. Merrick.

  They turned as Elias approached.

  Merrick's lips pulled back. A snarl that showed too many teeth.

  The two with him spread out.

  Merrick threw the torch on to the nearby house and ran. The other two charged at Elias.

  Elias fired at the one on the left. Its head snapped back as it hit the ground.

  The right one closed the distance and slammed into him. Elias landed on his back, gun knocked from his hands. The werewolf leaped at him. He rolled, climbing to his feet.

  Where’s my gun?

  He scanned the area. There. The gun shined in the firelight. He dove for it as the werewolf landed beside him. Its foot slammed down on his side.

  Elias gasped. Pain shot through his ribs.

  The werewolf raised its foot again. Elias rolled firing. Three bullets punched into its chest. It dropped.

  Elias stood slowly. Got to get after Merrick.

  That is when he heard it. A child crying. Coming from inside the burning house. Elias looked towards where Merrick had gone. Then back at the house.

  No time for playing hero.

  The crying got louder. Elias shook his head and ran toward the flames.

  The front door hung open, revealing a smoke-filled interior. Heat rolled out in waves. Elias could see the stairs leading to the living quarters above.

  "Hello!" he called. "Anyone in there?"

  The crying stopped. Then started again.

  Elias pulled his bandana up over his nose and mouth and ran into the smoke-filled building. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he squinted through the smoke.

  The main floor was already lost. Flames licked up the walls, feeding on furniture and wooden fixtures. The smell of burning wood mixed with something else.

  Near the kitchen, he could see bodies. Adults, caught by the pack before the fire started.

  He found the stairs and climbed quickly, the steps creaking under his weight. Each breath was harder than the last, the smoke burning his lungs.

  The upstairs hallway was a tunnel of smoke. The temperature was rising fast. Through the haze, he could see a doorway at the far end. Orange light flickered beyond it. Firelight, growing brighter by the second.

  "Where are you?" he called, his voice muffled by the cloth.

  The crying came from the end of the hall.

  He followed the noise, feeling his way along the wall when the smoke grew too thick to see. His hand found a doorframe, and he pushed inside.

  The bedroom was partially clear. A window had broken, letting some of the smoke escape. But flames were already creeping up the far wall, and the floor was hot.

  There, in the corner behind an overturned table, he found her.

  A little girl, maybe eight years old, huddled as small as she could make herself. Dark hair matted with soot, brown eyes wide. Tears cut clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks. Her dress was torn, and small burns marked her arms. She clutched something to her chest. A wooden toy carved into the shape of a horse.

  When she saw Elias, she pressed herself deeper into the corner. Not speaking, just watching him.

  Elias froze, staring at her toy. Lily. He shook his head. No time for that.

  "It's okay," Elias said, kneeling beside her and pulling down his bandana so she could see his face. "I'm here to help."

  She didn't answer. Just stared at him.

  The flames grew higher. Elias could feel the heat intensifying, pressing against his back.

  "Can you walk?" he asked.

  She nodded once, still clutching her wooden horse.

  "Hold my hand tight," he said, extending it toward her. "Don't let go, no matter what."

  She hesitated, then reached out with one small hand while keeping the horse pressed against her chest with the other. Small burns marked her palms.

  They moved toward the door. The hallway was worse now. Flames climbing the walls, and the smoke so thick he could barely see his own feet. The wooden floor was getting soft under the heat.

  This way is no good.

  Elias looked at the broken window. Glass shards clung to the frame, but most had fallen away. He moved to it and looked down.

  About ten feet to the ground. Manageable.

  "We're going out the window," he told the girl.

  She nodded.

  He cleared the remaining glass from the frame with his pistol handle, then scooped the girl up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the wooden horse pressed between them.

  Elias climbed through the window, hung from the sill for a moment, then dropped. He landed hard in the dirt below, bending his knees to absorb the impact.

  The girl's small hand gripped his coat.

  Elias kept running until they were well clear, then stopped to check on her. She was still breathing, still conscious, but her eyes had that glassy look of shock.

  Behind them, the roof collapsed with a roar that shook the ground.

  "You're safe now," he said.

  She looked down at the wooden horse in her hands. One of the legs hung by a splinter where she'd gripped it too tightly.

  Everything's broken tonight.

  She didn't speak, just stared at the broken toy.

  “I’m sorry. We can fix that later.” Elias looked back to town. He could see the smoke and fire still.

  Need to get back to Silas and Jane.

  He held out his hand. “Come on, I'll keep you safe.” She took his hand and they started the walk back to town.

  Merrick was gone. But these people were still here. Still needed help.