Superheroes Kill Werewolves Read online

  The desk sergeant looked hopeful for a brief moment, then wilted when he figured out that the detective was being sarcastic.

  Even though Jeff and Detective Costner discussed silver bullets when they had to deal with the Vampire Lavinia, neither of them honestly expected to fight werewolves. The idea bothered Jeff. For some reason, ridiculous mythical circumstances were now becoming commonplace in his life. Even if he survived this, what else was waiting for him?

  The banging against the screens got louder, then suddenly stopped.

  “We don’t have silver,” Costner stated. “But there are a couple .50 calibers in the weapons locker. And a few magnums. I think there might be a bazooka in evidence.”

  Jeff huffed a joyless laugh.

  “The things people bring into this town,” the Detective muttered.

  “That might be enough,” Jeff told him. “In the meantime, we need to find some way to block the doors. They have to be heading to them next.”

  Some banging had already started against the main exits.

  Jeff turned and watched as the door closest to him was being visibly punched in by repeated blows. The one who called himself Stalker was nearly as strong as he was. If the others were just as strong, then those doors weren’t going to last long.

  “Move the vending machines over there,” Costner ordered. “I have an idea that might slow them down and give us a chance.” He made sure the heavy machines were staggered, so the moment any of the creatures got through, they’d be sitting ducks for heavy fire.

  Jeff didn’t think that would hold the werewolves off for long, but it would at least delay the creatures and keep them in one spot for the .50 calibers. The trouble was that there were five exits and only three high powered rifles. The bazooka, unfortunately, hadn’t been picked up with any ammo.

  After the vending machines had been moved and the officers had been armed, Jeff took a few seconds to take care of Nicki, who still cowered in the same spot he was in before.

  “Come on,” Jeff said, helping Nicki to his feet. “We’ve got to get you to someplace safer.”

  He handed him off to one of the on night duty officers, a red-headed woman named Lula Moore.

  “What’s the safest place you can put him in?” Jeff asked.

  “The holding cells,” she replied. “They are pretty damn solid. The criminals are safer than were are, really.” She glanced back nervously as the banging on the doors grew louder.

  “Okay,” he said. “Take him to one of them, then. Make sure he’s locked tight.”

  Officer Moore nodded and led the kid away.

  Nicki looked back worriedly.

  Jeff nodded to the kid to try to offer him some assurance, and then turned back to help prepare for the werewolf assault on Precinct 35.

  Chapter 9

  Derek “Creeper” Matheson could tell that something was going on outside his cell, something really weird. He’d always been able to assess the movements of people around him, even though he couldn’t control them like he could control animals. Humans had too many conflicting and complicated drives. Small animals and insects were much simpler. Food. Reproduction. Fear. Rage. That was pretty much it for them and he was suddenly feeling a whole lot of rage in the vicinity. It made his skin crawl.

  He sighed.

  Force was still in the building somewhere. He could sense the self-righteous punk.

  A seed of an idea formed in his mind. Maybe, once he got out of this cell, he would follow Force to his off-duty location and get a look at his face and the faces of his loved ones. That would be worth a decent amount of money to the right buyer.

  His thoughts were interrupted when the steel door to the holding area opened up with a hollow creek.

  A female cop ushered a young boy down the row of cells.

  Derek could tell instantly that the kid was something different, familiar yet new. And as luck would have it, the scrawny boy was locked tightly into the cell right beside him. Derek could feel the kid’s fear radiate from him in a wave. The feeling was far stronger than with any human being he had ever known and the boy was clearly not a fellow UQ. Did this boy have something to do with what the detective had been asking him about earlier?

  Suddenly, muffled shouting rose from behind the cell bock door, followed by heavy gunfire and howls of rage.

  A real riot was going on out there and Derek had somebody he could talk to about it.

  “Hey kid,” Derek said, loud enough so he was sure he was being heard. “Can you hear me?”

  Chapter 10

  Derek got up from the cot and slipped over to the cinderblock wall separating the cells so the boy could hear him better.

  “Hey kid,” he started again. “I can tell you’re scared. Don’t worry. This place is locked up tighter than a drum. No one’s getting to you in here. Don’t worry, you’re safe.”

  “Really?” he heard the boy nervously ask.

  “Sure,” he continued smoothly. “That’s why I’m here, too. Witness protection and all. They want to make sure we’re all safe. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if it wasn’t. What you in here for? You seem a bit young for police detention.”

  More heavy fire and animal howls distracted Derek for a moment. Animal howls? What the hell was going on out there?

  Derek collected his thoughts and continued probing for answers. “It’s okay kid, you can tell me,” he offered. “What’s your name?”

  “Nicki,” the boy replied.

  “I’m Derek. Is all that noise about you?”

  “They’re coming for me,” the kid breathed.

  “Why? What did you do?”

  “They tried to save me, and—”

  “Who tried to save you?” Derek asked. “The cops?”

  “My parents,” the boy whimpered. “They did everything they could. Gave me a magic locket, kept me safe during the full moon and away from the pack. And then I-” He started sobbing again, so loudly that Derek could hear it through the wall.

  “Hey, take it easy,” Derek replied. “It wasn’t your fault.” He sent calming signals outward and the boy’s sobbing quieted. This kid was clearly more susceptible to his influence than any regular human being. Between that and the howls he heard beyond the door, Derek started to put things together.

  Given the potency of what he felt, from outside, from the cell beside him, maybe this kid and his pursuers were something completely different. Not exactly human. Not quite Unique. Just different somehow.

  Shame and guilt radiated from the kid.

  “You don’t know,” Nicki breathed.

  “I know what animals are like,” Derek told him. “It’s instinct. It’s about hunger. Survival. That’s all. You don’t have to be afraid of it. Not here. We’re all just animals, you know, every one of us.”

  There were more bursts of muffled gunfire. More howls.

  Whatever those things were outside, they were trying to take this kid back with them. If that was the case, maybe he was one of them. That kind of strength could be his chance to get out of here. All the kid needed was a little push.

  And so Derek “Creeper” Matheson reached out with his thoughts into the ducts and pipes for whatever creepy crawly he could find and told them to swarm the kid.

  He listened as the bugs surrounded the kid, tearing his clothes away. Something metal fell to the stone floor. Whimpered cries turned into feral growls, followed by the scraping and ripping of skin.

  This would be exciting, Derek thought. The power of a real monster would be at his disposal. Granted, he could have gotten himself out, but that would have taken time and a lot of bugs. This creature could rip its way out of a cell like this no problem.

  Yeah, Derek was looking forward to the fun they were going to have. The cops would have to start calling him “The Wolf Master” or something equally awesome now.

  “That’s right,” he commanded. “Throw that door off its hinges. You need to be free.”

  The sound of rending metal filled him
with glee. He was in control a freaking werewolf. How cool was that?

  Chapter 11

  Jeff slammed the husky werewolf against a concrete column, feeling the monster shudder as its back snapped from the impact. It gasped out a ragged growl and fell limply to the floor.

  Damnit, where were their help from Central?

  He had killed three of the creatures on his own, but they still kept coming. All the firepower they had used just slowed them down, even the .50 calibers were practically useless. Cops were being slaughtered and all he could do was take these things out one at a time by hand!

  Down the hall, a woman screamed.

  Jeff ran full tilt around the corner, only to get tackled by another one of the silver-furred creatures slavering for his blood.

  Out of ammo for most of his weaponry, Jeff desperately shoved his gauntlet into the beast’s wide open mouth and fired off his tear gas canister.

  The thing choked and coughed, giving Jeff enough time to kick it up against the ceiling and use a retractable blade in his gauntlet to spike its neck as it fell back down. The heavy mass collapsed on top of him in a heap.

  Jeff threw it to the side, glancing around.

  A shotgun blast echoed from down the corridor.

  Jeff scrambled to his feet and ran after the sound.

  A hulking creature tore at a mass of flesh beneath it.

  Jeff leapt, knocking the beast away from the officer.

  The two of them tumbled down the hall, smashing through a doorway into an empty office.

  The werewolf swiped the furniture away and raked at him with its claws.

  Jeff blocked and kicked, then gripped the creature’s thick neck with both arms and squeezed with everything he had.

  Bones and cartilage popped. The beast grew heavy in his arms, then fell to the cold floor, twitching.

  Jeff ran back over and checked on the downed female cop. It was Officer Moore, but he was too late. Her ribcage had been torn open. Blood coated the floor.

  The staccato blast of a shotgun drew his attention up from the dead cop. He would have to mourn her later, along with the others who died today.

  Jeff looked up as Detective Costner stepped toward him, smoking assault weapon in his hand an splattered blood on his face.

  “Force, behind you!” he shouted.

  Jeff turned, finding himself face-to-face with Stalker, the werewolf he fought in the parking lot. The eight-foot monster towered over him.

  “You fool,” it growled. “I’ll rip you into shreds. You’ll-”

  Jeff didn’t wait for the creature to finish talking. He swung a pounding haymaker right in its slavering jaw.

  The werewolf’s head snapped back, but returned with a strike of its massive clawed hand.

  The blow knocked Jeff clear through a wall and into the precinct’s evidence locker. He slammed against one of the shelving units, causing it to topple over, dumping baskets and boxes around the floor.

  Jeff blacked out, only for a moment or so he thought. It could have been for longer. He couldn’t tell.

  By the time his head was clear enough for him to look up, Jeff saw the massive creature climb through the hole in the wall.

  It stood there, surrounded by a halo of drywall dust.

  Jeff scrambled to his feet, unsheathed the blade in his gauntlet, and swiped at the monster.

  Stalker lunged at him and blocked the attack with an arm. The werewolf howled in pain as the blade bit into its flesh. With its other clawed hand, it tore the gauntlet off of Jeff’s wrist and threw it at him, hitting him in the chest and knocking him through another set of shelves.

  Suddenly, three shotgun blasts made the beast shudder and twist its head around to look back at the source.

  Costner stood in the hole now, shotgun leveled at the beast, and continued firing.

  The creature roared and turned.

  Jeff’s hand slid along a set of fancy forks and butter knives on the floor beside a busted wooden box. His wrist was broken, but he managed to grab a few and get to his feet, leaning on the unloaded bazooka barrel.

  With his good hand, he threw the silverware in rapid-fire at the werewolf’s back and chest where they stuck like darts.

  Blood spurted.

  Stalker looked down, stunned that the small pieces of metal hadn’t bounced off of him.

  “You can’t stop us,” it growled, as it ripped the blades from its chest. “Nicki is one with the pack. The pack will not be denied. It will not be controlled. It will not be stopped!”

  Jeff leapt forward with the bazooka in his grip and pounded the barrel into the monster’s blood spurting chest.

  “There is no pack!” he yelled. The force of his blow pinned Stalker to the wall. It howled in agony as Jeff twisted the barrel deeper, feeling the bones snap as he used all of his remaining strength to cave in the werewolf’s chest. “You’ve all been put down!”

  Chapter 12

  Jeff huffed a breath as he stood over the dead monster. From behind him he heard a scrabbling sound, something coming at him from the rubble. He turned, ready to fight with what little he had left.

  Detective Costner pushed aside some drywall and grimaced.

  Jeff felt like he had been fighting for an hour, but it had to have only been ten or fifteen minutes at the most.

  Costner turned his eyes to the bazooka embedded in the lead werewolf’s chest. “Looks like you’ve gotten stronger.”

  Jeff bent down to pick up one of the forks that he’d thrown at the creature. It had a design on it that told him that it wasn’t a regular kitchen set after all. He turned and showed the blade to the detective.

  “Looks like we got lucky,” the detective said. “That looks like real silverware. Expensive stuff. Remind me to thank whoever we caught knocking over houses in the Old Corner section of town.”

  Just then, a muffled wolf howl came from the other side of the building.

  Jeff grabbed the knives from the rubble at his feet.

  The two of them followed the screams, eventually finding their way into the block where they discovered a pair of open cell doors and a werewolf crouching over the body of Creeper as it growled and chewed on his flesh.

  “We missed one!” Costner swore and fired a shotgun blast into the creature’s back.

  The monster looked up, wounded by the blast. It wasn’t quite as large as the others they’d fought.

  Jeff readied his silverware, then spotted something glinting at the creature’s feet.

  Nicki’s locket glinted on its silver chain.

  Jeff glanced at the open doors. One had been smashed open from the inside. His heart sank.

  “Stalker wasn’t lying,” he told Costner. “That isn’t one of the pack. Its Nicki.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Costner replied.

  The beast that used to be a scared kid turned around, blood and human flesh dripping from his gaping jaws.

  “Just wait,” Jeff said. “I’ll try to talk him down. He doesn’t want this. He’s not one of them.”

  “Talking to him is probably what got Creeper killed,” Costner advised, cocking his gun. “These things can’t be reasoned with, Force. They’re animals.”

  “Come on, Nicki,” Jeff started, ignoring the detective’s words. “It’s me, Force. You know I’m here to help. Just help me get the locket back on you and you’ll be back to normal. Safe. The pack is dead.”

  The werewolf stared at him, curled into a low crouch.

  Jeff knew what was coming, but hesitated, not wanting to admit the inevitable.

  The werewolf pounced.

  Jeff threw the small blades as hard as he could while Costner pumped blasts that knocked the creature back against the far side of the cell.

  It slumped down, leaving a bloody smear on the cinder block wall as it collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter 13

  The crowds that turned out to the funerals of the six policemen and women were massive.

  No one came to Nicki’s buri
al other than Jeff and Detective Costner. They just watched the kid’s casket get lowered into the ground and covered over. The boy’s headstone lay between his parents’, something Jeff learned Costner had personally requested.

  Jeff stared at it, as depressed as he’d ever felt in his life. The funerals for the cops were bad enough. The guilt he felt for each of their deaths weighed heavily on him. He couldn’t help think that his mentor would have handled it all without a life being lost, not even Nicki’s.

  Costner patted him on the shoulder gently.

  “It’s best this way,” the detective said. “I think you’ll agree.”

  Jeff nodded.

  The official report on Nicki’s death read that he died in the crossfire by accident. The lie didn’t wash away the blood on his hands. Still, he agreed that he belonged with his parents, not in some cold autopsy room for study. The didn’t want to be what he became. He fought against it tooth and nail. He loved his parents and they loved him, for all the good that did for any of them.

  “This is just so… nuts,” Jeff finally spat out. “Erica trained me to fight criminals, UQ’s, not… vampires and werewolves. Nicki, all those policemen and women… Even that greasy thief, Creeper.”

  “It’s not your fault, kid, and it’s not hers,” Costner told him. “Who knew these things even existed? They weren’t in the database. You did the best you could, we all did.”

  Jeff waved his hands at the headstones.

  “They knew,” Jeff insisted bitterly. “Others have to know as well. I didn’t do enough. The database isn’t enough. There’s more of these things out there, I know it. I’m going to find these monsters, these evil ugly things, and I’m going to drag them all out into the light. And then I’m going to end them. All of them.”