Werewolf Chronicles Chapter 8

Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 8

         Elisa stood nervously in front of the massive freezer door, tensely clutching a combat knife and a sharp looking silver spike.  A thick patch of leather had been wrapped around the spike to provide a makeshift handle on it.  Accepting a ski-mask from one of the guards, she pulled it down over her head and pushed the door open.  Hanging from a steel I-beam in the middle of the old meat locker was a massive werewolf; the hair on the back of his head was streaked in silver, while more red fur ran down his arms and to his hands.  Lisa had captured the werewolf several days ago, apparently slaughtering its way through a group of campers.
         “He’s all yours,” Lisa said, taking her two guards and closing the freezer door.
         She approached the werewolf, driving the spike deeply into his side; he growled angrily at her, trying to fight against the tight collar.  Stabbing him again, she yelled angrily.  “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!”
         As she twisted the spike around the wound, he roared so loud that her ears began to ring painfully.  She lunged forward, attacking again, but the werewolf twisted to the side and she overshot, losing her balance.  The werewolf pulled his legs up, snapping the chains and throwing his knees into her chin.  Stars flashed through her vision and she fell back onto the cold concrete, swearing angrily.  Still dazed, she watched as the werewolf pressed his legs against the beam and snapped the restraints away.  Regaining her senses, she lunged forward, the knife missing the werewolf and bouncing painfully off the concrete; the impact knocked the weapon form her grasp, clattering across the ground.
         The werewolf drove his knees into her face, knocking her onto her back and he lunged forward.  Before she could react, he had pinned her against the ground with his knees, slamming his fists into her forehead.  “Get the fuck off me asshole!” she yelled, trying to toss the heavy wolf away, but not succeeding.
         The creature reached down, pulling the hood away.  “Oh fuck me.”
- - - -
         One Month Earlier

         Elisa grunted in effort, lifting the heavy footlocker up and loading it onto the back of the truck.  Her and several other hunters were loading supplies into the back of a cargo truck; they had everything from more ammunition to canned beef loaded up.  She accepted a bottle of water from one of the other workers, sitting on the back of the truck and lighting a cigarette.  Even though they had given her more freedom in the camp, she was still limited in where and when she could travel, and it was never alone.  The only time she had to herself was at night, when they closed her in the RV’s bedroom.  The door wasn’t locked anymore, but she knew they had a guard that stayed near the truck’s door whenever she was inside.
         Her breath came out in large puffs of air and she tightened the jacket around her body, trying to keep the warmth inside.  The group was somewhere in Missourri, chasing after a large group of lycanthropes.  Apparently Lisa had a personal grudge against this group, but even after her five months here, none of the hunters who knew would tell her anything about it.  They wouldn’t even let her talk to anyone outside their group; when they were in town, like now, she had to remain with at least two of the other hunters.  Even with the bad treatment by most of the hunters, she tried to keep the hope that James was still alive.
         “How are you doing?” Michael asked, walking around to the back of the truck.
         “Just thinking,” she responded, stubbing out her cigarette.
         “About?”
         “James, I miss him.”
         “It’s hard losing someone to the lycanthropes, especially when they’re infected.”
         Asshole.  “Yeah . . . so where are we going next?”
         Michael smiled at her.  “You know I can’t tell you that.”
         Fuck.
- - - -
         Elisa loaded her rifle slowly, concentrating intently on the magazine and the rounds as she loaded it.  Her hands slipped forward, sharp pain running up her thumb and she dropped the round onto the ground.  At first she thought she had cut her finger open, but when she looked down, there wasn’t anything but a small red welt on her thumb.  “What the fuck?” she mumbled, bending over and picking up the fallen round.  Elisa rolled the bullet over in her hand, looking at it closely for anything that could have cut her, but the round looked smooth.  “What happened?” she wondered, tossing the round up into the air and catching it in her palm.  Burning pain shot through her hand again and she dropped it hastily onto the ground.
         She stared at the round for a long time, bending over and picking it up carefully with two of her fingers.  Starting at the bottom of the round, she began running her finger up the side, trying to figure out how she had hurt herself twice on the same bullet.  Nothing happened until her finger left the casing and ran across the silver bullet, more pain burning up her fingertip.  “What the hell?”
         There was one knock at the door and Lisa marched inside.  “Are you ready?”
         “Shooting practice?” she mumbled, carefully loading the fallen round into the magazine.
         “Yes, now get up and get ready,” she said, storming out of the room.
         Elisa grabbed her jacket, a half filled combat vest and a rifle.  Lisa had given her the rifle after the last lycanthrope pack they had encountered; it was a Benelli R1 hunting rifle, with a high powered scope.  She was still getting used to it, firearms had never been her thing, but it had an aggressive appeal she liked.
         The hunters had set up a small shooting range at one end of their makeshift camp, using logs and four by fours to staple paper targets onto.  Lisa was already there, sitting at a picnic table and adjusting the sights on her own hunting rifle.  “It took you long enough.”
         “Sorry.”  Bitch, she thought, sitting down on the table beside the other woman.  She slowly sat down, adjusting her position until she was comfortable enough to aim down at the black and white targets.
         “I don’t want you to miss any shots,” Lisa said coldly.
         “Okay . . .” she muttered, slowly lining her crosshairs on the target.
         “Now, I’m going to ask you some questions, see how much you’ve picked up.”
         “Why?”  Both women fired, Lisa’s round smacking the center of the paper, while Elisa’s barely struck the edge of the black.
         “I want to know,” they fired again, Elisa getting closer to the center of the target.  “What can hurt Werewolves and Vampires?”
         “Anything can hurt them,” she muttered, “But only silver or fire can kill a werewolf; stakes and fire for vampires.”
         “When’s the best time to hunt?”  More shots rang out, chipping wood off the trees behind the targets.
         “Late in the evening, during the new moon,” Elisa fired almost without thinking as she talked.  “It gives the vampires a false sense of security and the werewolves are at their weakest.”
         “Good,” Lisa dropped her spent magazine, reloading the rifle.  “Now, most important, how can you become infected?”
         Why is she doing this? she thought, firing another round.  “Easy, being bitten.”
         “Yes and no,” Lisa said, making an adjustment on her scope.  “Any kind of fluid transfer can infect a person.”
         “What!?” Elisa asked, turning to face the other woman.
         The hunter set her weapon down, looking coldly as Elisa.  “Clawing, biting, blood transfusions, organ implants, even sex.”
         Shit, she thought.  “It’s that easy?  Isn’t anyone immune?”
         “I don’t take that chance, if you might be infected, then you mine as well be.  It’s easier to kill someone before they turn.”
         “That’s cold.”
         “It’s our life as hunters.  So,” she stood up, turning away, “did you and James have sex?”
         “Yeah, he was my husband.”
         “I meant after he was infected.”
         “N-no, he was always too tired.”
         “Okay,” she smirked, walking away.
         “Oh hell.”
- - - -
         Lisa pushed her tent flap open, setting her weapon in a small rack and dropping heavily into the padded chair inside.  Michael was in there, hooking her computer into the satellite receiver.  “You love tormenting that woman, don’t you?”
         “It passes the time.  Did we get the report back on her blood?” Lisa asked.
         He handed her a thick padded envelope.  “All very discrete and in depth, the eggheads at Redjack were very interested in that sample.”
         “Well?” she asked, waving her hand impatiently.
         “Elisa is definitely infected, but it doesn’t seem to be showing at all.  She’s been with us long enough, that if she was going turn then she would.”
         “But she’s still infected,” she looked down, chewing on her knuckle as she thought over the problem.
         “So, what do we do?”
         “Use her against Maxwell, and James if he survived; if she lives through that, we turn her over to Redjack or kill her.  Now give me some privacy.”
         “No problem,” Michael said, leaving the tent hurriedly.
         Lisa pressed her thumb against the reader, the laptop quickly encrypting the communication and connecting to the satellite.  The General appeared quickly on the screen, his hands joined in front of him.  “Well, what is there to report?”
         “I believe we are closing in on Maxwell’s pack, I know that he is based somewhere in this state.  Elisa may be our way to find out where they are located.”
         “Be careful Kopek, Ross isn’t a normal lycanthrope.  He has already set project Redjack back several months.”
         “He won’t hurt his wife sir, but I think I can convince her to kill him.”
         “I have seen Guzman’s report, Elisa Ross is infected.”
         “But she’s not showing sir, I thought Redjack could use her.”
         The Generals thought for a long moment.  “St. Louis, my team will find you there.  James and Elisa both, no arguments,” he said, ending the connection.
         “Damn I hate that.”
         Elisa cursed under her breath, ducking away from the tent and moving behind one of the hunters’ vans.  Desperately trying to keep her anger in check, she ran at a near sprint away from Lisa’s tent.  She couldn’t believe that James was really alive, but at the same time she had known he wasn’t dead.  He’s alive!, was all she could think, ducking behind the back of the RV and crawling through the maintenance hatch.  So far she had been lucky and the hunters hadn’t found her escape route, but even she knew that it couldn’t last forever.
“But what if he’s with Maxwell?” she asked herself, pacing back and forth across the room.
“I might be able to reach them, or find James before then,” she said, answering her question.
         “What if Katlyn finds me before then?  It could turn out very badly.”
         “You’re losing your mind, talking to yourself,” Elisa muttered, dropping tiredly onto the camper’s bed.  “How am I infected, I’ve never even changed?”  Nervously, she picked through her jean’s pockets, fishing out one of the silver rounds she had been using earlier.  Careful to hold the round by its case, she slowly eased it down towards her palm; she stopped when it was barely a hair’s space away.  This is might hurt, Elisa thought, lightly touching the round against her skin.  Pain erupted up her arm and she yelped loudly, dropping the round onto the padded carpet.
         “I’ve touched silver before, right?”  She covered her eyes with her arm, thinking slowly back, all the way to the first time she thought James’ had changed.  “But,” she muttered, “we didn’t have sex until Maxwell’s.”  It had been a short dry spell for them, ever since he had been bitten by that crazy woman at work.  Since then, she hadn’t touched any silver; she didn’t own anything silver, and there definitely hadn’t been any silver in Maxwell’s camp.  “Maybe I am infected?”
- - - -
         “Check this out,” one of the hunters shouted at Michael as he entered the small tent they used as a headquarters.
         Michal accepted a small stack of photographs, flipping slowly through them.  The photographs were from an infrared satellite, showing the mountain range with a heavy heat signature in the center of them.  Scanning the pictures, he could see a small sized town, surrounded by a tall concrete wall.  There were trucks and people visible in all the photographs, as well as several of what looked like loading trucks.  “What is this showing?”
         “I think its Maxwell’s pack,” he responded.  The technician, Vince Clark, was a young man, barely eighteen years old, but looked like he was just passing through puberty.  He wore broken thick glasses and a pale complexion, but held a magnum revolver under his arm.
         “Why do you say that?”
         Vince pulled out a whole stack of photos, laying them out on the tent’s small table.  “I started looking through some of the older archived satellite imagery, tracking Maxwell since he was in Lousianna.  I was able to track this large group of vehicles up through Arkansas and into Missourri.  It’s not certain, but it’s definitely a large group of lycanthropes.”
         “Hmph,” Michael grunted, “I’ll let Lisa know, good job.”
         “Thanks.”
         Michael shoved the photos into his jacket, walking hurriedly across the campground towards Lisa’s tent.  He arrived at it as Lisa stormed outside, looking like she was ready to punch someone.  “Are you okay?”
         “Damn I hate the General,” she fumed at him, grabbing reflexively at her sidearm.
         “He’s an asshole, kind of creepy in person,” Michael responded.
         “You met him?”
         “When he introduced me to Redjack, after my wife died.”
         “I’ve never had the pleasure.”
         Michael chuckled.  “You’re not missing anything.”
         “Did you come here for something?”
         “Vince put this stuff together,” he said, handing their leader the stack of photographs.  “He thinks Maxwell is there.”
         “Really?  What do you think?”
         “It’s worth checking out, maybe rent a building near there.  Everyone could use a break, maybe a somewhat warm bed.”
         “Start scouting around, see what you can find.  I’ll get everyone together and brief them.”
- - - -
         Elisa leaned tiredly against the truck’s passenger window, tapping irritably on the dashboard and wishing she had a cigarette.  Michael was driving, and he didn’t like anyone smoking while he drove.  Lisa was spread across the truck’s backseat, listening to her headphones and tapping rapidly on her laptop.  No one had told here where they were going, and she had been too afraid to sneak out of her tent more than once a night.  They had been driving for almost four hours, and it was late in the afternoon.
         Sighing loudly, she turned towards Michael.  “Can we stop for a break?  I’m really jonesing for a cigarette.”
         In response, Michael turned towards Lisa, tapping her foot.  The hunter took off her headphones, “What?”
         “Do you want to stop?” he asked.
         “No, we’re almost there,” Lisa said, putting her headphones on.
         “Can you at least tell me anything about where we’re going this time?” Elisa asked, “I need something to keep my mind off smoking.”
         Michael grunted irritably.  “I rented an old meat processing warehouse, near where we think Maxwell’s pack is staying at.”
         “You found his pack?  When are attacking them?” she asked hurriedly.
         “This is the largest pack we’ve ever found, we need to take it slowly and plan it out.  First, we need capture several of them, interrogate them, and find out what they know.”
         “Torture you mean,” she grunted.
         “You’re part of this now, accept the reality,” Lisa snapped from the backseat.
         “We plan it out,” Michael continued, “start by infiltrating their compound and planting explosives.  Then we start by attacking their outer perimeter, and working inward.”
         Lisa sat up, pointing across Michael’s shoulder.  “Turn there.”
         Michael turned off the interstate, the rest of the hunter’s column following the truck off the highway.  After a few miles he turned down a wide gravel road, thick trees occupying each side of the road.  As they got farther and farther away, the road narrowed so much that the trees started to scrape against the side of the body.  Elisa could only imagine how the large RVs and other trucks were handling the narrowness of the road.  She thought that the truck was going to drive off the road as it burst into a narrow clearing, a large building looming into view.
         The building looked like it hadn’t been used for several years.  Most of its windows were cracked or shattered, foliage covered its ceiling and trees had fallen across its outer fence.  It had been surrounded by a tall fence, danger signs were pasted at regular intervals along its length.  Michael slowed the truck as he drove it through the narrow gate, stopping in front of a loading dock door.
         “Open it,” Michael ordered, stopping the truck roughly.
         “Asshole,” she muttered, pushing the door open and walking slowly up to the large garage door.  At first she wasn’t sure how to open it, until finding the small pedestrian door set into the wall beside it.  Elisa pushed the door open, tripping through the dark warehouse until she found the garage door.  Hanging against the wall was a loop of old, rusted chain, which lead up to the door’s opening mechanism.  She began pulling on the chain, it refused to budge at first but when she leaned her weight against it, the gears popped loose and the door began to open slowly.  Her arms were already burning with fatigue when it was only halfway open, but that was high enough for Michael to drive through.
         Once he had parked the vehicle he stepped out, walking up to Elisa.  “Welcome to your new home.”
- - - -
         “They’re well organized, never leaving the compound in groups less than four, and they’re well armed too,” Michael reported.  Lisa, Vince, himself and several of the senior members of the hunter group were situated around a damaged table.  They had turned one of the old break rooms in the warehouse into their war room; it was now strewn with maps, diagrams and satellite pictures of Maxwell’s compound.
         “Is there any chance we can capture one of them?  Maybe when they’re by themselves?” Lisa asked, scanning over a stack of paperwork in front of her.
         “No, they watch each other pretty well.  I think most of his pack are raised like this from birth.”
         “T-their town is pretty self contained,” Vince stuttered out, reading from his laptop.  “They only get shipments in once a month, during the full moon, when they’re at their strongest.”
         “There’s a reason this pack has lasted so long,” Michael commented.
         “Damn it,” Lisa shouted, pounding her fists on the table, “I want Maxwell, need him to finish this.  Get out of here, and find me a weakness.”  The hunters cleared out of the room quietly, none of them wanting to meet Lisa’s angry gaze.
         “Maybe we could use Elisa?” Michael suggested, leaning back against the wall.
         “No, I still don’t trust her.  I think she’d be useful in an all out fight, but not as a spy.”
         “Yeah, so what are we going to do?”
         Lisa shrugged at him.  “Wait until one of them gets lazy and go out alone.”
         Elisa leaned back in her hiding place; she was crouched behind one of the crumbling walls around the break room, watching them through a hole in the wall.  Even though the group had moved, they still preferred to keep her in the RV, assuming it had worked so far.  She wasn’t sure whether to be glad or disappointed that they hadn’t found a way into Maxwell’s compound yet.  On one hand she wanted to get into the compound and possibly see James, but on the other, she didn’t want to see anymore lycanthropes die because of Lisa’s murderous rage.
         “What am I going to do?” she muttered to herself.
- - - -
         One Week Later

         “I can’t believe we finally caught one,” Michael commented as the black form was dragged into the old building’s freezer.
         “Hopefully he’ll have some good information,” Lisa said as the unconscious beast was tied against the room’s massive I-beam and then secured to the floor.  “He looks familiar.”
         “They all look the same to me.”
         Ignoring the man, she walked up to the unconscious werewolf, carefully looking him up and down.  “His name’s James Ross.”
         “Elisa’s husband?”
         “Yes, but I hope she won’t recognize him.”
         “Why?”
         Lisa smiled at him.  “Just go get her.”
- - - -
         Elisa stared at the werewolf on the closed circuit television, trying to see through the grainy signal.  “You caught one?”
         “The dumb mutt had engine trouble, and he was by himself.  He almost drove right into our base, it was too easy,” Lisa smiled, looking at the screen.  “We need to interrogate him, find out what he knows about Maxwell’s pack.”
         “Okay . . .”
         The hunter opened her small backpack, handing Elisa a small leather bound bundle.  “You’re going to do it.”
         “What!?  I can’t torture someone,” she muttered.
         “It’s a thing, not someone.  Just remember that he’s a monster, nothing more than a beast.”
         Fuck, she thought, opening the small bundle.  Inside was a razor sharp combat knife, and a pointed silver spike.  “What am I supposed to do with this?”
         “Get the information,” Lisa smirked, turning and walking out of the room.  “Come on, we’re holding him in the old freezer.”
         Elisa followed the hunter out of the makeshift office and up several flights of stairs.  The warehouse’s old freezer was located on the third floor, near the back of the loading dock they had entered through.  The freezer’s door had been reinforced on the outside with thick steel bars, and there were two guards on either side; each wearing black ski masks.
         “What’s with the masks?” Elisa asked, nervously holding the weapons; she had wrapped the leather carrying bag around the spike to allow her to hold it, the knife she held nervously in her other hand.
         “Just in case he escaped, we don’t want him to know us.  It was a hard lesson for us to learn,” Lisa said, trailing off into silence.
         “Oh . . .”
         “Remember, that’s a monster.  A few days ago he killed a group of campers, it was a completely unprovoked slaughter.  He’s not human anymore, if he ever was.  Just get the information from him and finish it.”
         “I’ll try.”
         “He’s all yours.”
- - - -
         “Fuck me,” James muttered, leaning back on his heels and looking down at his wife.
         Elisa took advantage of the distraction, throwing her knees up and tossing James away.  She held onto his arm, rolling on top of him and pressing the silver spike against his throat, but stopped as his eyes looked up at her.  “James?”
         “Yeah, now let me up,” he tried to lift her up, but she pushed down the spike and knocked his arm away.
         “I can’t know you here, they’ll kill us.”
         “Fuck,” he thought for a moment, grinding his teeth at her, trying to look mad.  “When I throw you, run to the camera.”
         “Huh?”
         “Just do it,” he growled, grabbing her arm and tossing her across the room.
         Elisa landed with a hard thud on the concrete floor, popping up to her feet, looking up in time to see James charging at her.  She ducked down, rolling to the side and barely avoiding the attack as he struck out with his claw.  Her roll finished as she stopped against the freezer door, standing slowly and holding the silver spike out in front of her for defense.  James roared loudly, launching himself at Elisa; she dropped onto the ground, James slamming loudly into the freezer door.
         “Got it,” James grinned, holding up the crushed remains of the security camera in his claw.
         “You’re insane,” Elisa screamed, smacking him across the jaw.  Smiling, she rushed forward and embraced him in a tough hug.  “I knew you weren’t dead!”
         “I thought you were.  They blew up the truck, with someone inside.”
         “Oh . . . look James, they’ll be in here soon; Lisa doesn’t really trust me.”
         “Then we’ll need to get out of here, won’t we?”
         “There’s hunters everywhere James!”  As if to add to her comment, there was a loud pounding on the door, combined with angry shouts from the guards outside.  “You can’t fight all of them.”
         “We don’t have to babe, just have to kill enough to get away, alright?”
         Elisa shook her head, crossing her arms nervously.  “You’re insane, we can’t get out of here.”
         The freezer door started to open, and James dug his claws into the padded door, pulling it back shut.  “What happened to that bitch I married, huh?”
         She stared angrily at him for a long moment before her face broke into a smile.  “Do you have a plan, or are you just going to wing it?”
         “I’d like to kill them all . . .” he shrugged, his arm starting to strain against the pull of holding it shut.
         Elisa picked up the fallen combat knife.  “Why don’t you start with those two outside?”
         Grinning, James released his grip, turning and driving his foot into the door.  The force of the attack threw it open, knocking the two guards outside onto their backs.  Before they could react, James shot forward, driving both of his claws into their chests, lifting them up and tossing them back into the freezer.  Bending over, Elisa withdrew the guards’ pistols, checking that they were loaded and shoving them into her own waistband.
         James was stopped halfway down the hallway, his head cocked to the side as if he were listening to something.  She ran after him, stopping beside the tall wolf and resting one hand on his back.  “What is it?”
         “Large trucks downstairs, and sirens in the distance.  Probably humvees, or something downstairs,” he muttered, turning back to face her.
         “So what now?”
         “Fuck if I know.”
- - - -
         “You’re not fucking taking them,” Lisa screamed at the soldier in front of her.
         Several military hummers were parked in front of the hunters’ building, all of them armed with large machine guns.  Each truck had held four soldiers, all of them now spread around the compound and aiming their weapons at the hunters.  The soldier in front of Lisa had no name tag, rank or unit patch.  “I have my orders and so do you, we’re both soldiers Kopek.”
         “He’s my link to Maxwell damn it, I’m not giving the General my only lead!” she yelled at the other soldier.
         “Yes you are Kopek.”
         “Lisa!” Michael yelled, running through the group of soldiers and hunters that had gathered around the arguing pair.
         “Can it wait?” she snapped at him.
         “No,” Michael said, stepping between the two arguing people.  “They’ve destroyed the camera and escaped.”
         “They can’t have left the compound, find them!” she ordered, turning towards the soldier.  “Help me find Ross, and you can have one of them when I’m done, deal?”
         The soldier gripped his weapon angrily.  “Let’s find them first.”
- - - -
         Elisa fired the last three rounds from her pistol, the bullets cutting into one of the hunters; she dropped the spent weapon, turning towards her husband.  Blood covered his claws and teeth, soaking into his coarse fur and dripping into puddles on the concrete floor.  With a fierce growl, he kicked one of the bodies out of the way, walking towards her.
         “We need a way out,” he grunted, wiping his jaw with one arm.  “Any ideas?”
         “The hunters have these armored trucks, one of those might work.”
         “Lead on babe,” he said, gesturing with his bloody hand.
         Bullets ricocheted off the floor, throwing sharp concrete bits onto Elisa’s exposed skin.  She dove behind a pillar as more bullets slammed into it, one of them driving into James’ arm in a spray of blood.  Six hunters were using a corner of the hallway as cover, firing their assault rifles at the pair; one of the attackers was talking rapidly into a handheld radio.  Roaring, James sprinted forward, diving to the side to avoid another volley of gunfire; the bullets crashing harmlessly into the wall.  James tore into the attackers, knocking three of them down and biting into another’s face.  The hunter screamed, grabbing his face and dropping to the floor as James crushed another one against the wall.
         Two of the hunters had managed to slide down the hall towards Elisa and aiming their weapons at James.  Leaning out from behind her cover, Elisa sent two rounds through the nearest hunter’s back, her third round drilling through the other’s shoulder.  He dropped to the ground, firing wildly at Elisa; his rounds hit everything but his target, throwing concrete chips into her hair.  James drove his foot down through one of the remaining hunters, back handing one of them who had managed to stand up, crushing his skull against the wall.
         Elisa ducked behind the pillar as more rounds bounced off her cover, echoing loudly in her ears.  Without looking, she poked the handgun around the pillar, firing at her attacker.  There was a deafening roar and the floor shook with James’ impact.  She looked around the corner in time to see him lift the hunter up by the throat, grabbing the arm that held the weapon and ripping it completely away, including most of his upper arm and shoulder.  He leaned over, biting into the man’s throat with a sickly crunch, shaking the limp body back and forth several times before dropping him to the floor.
         Elisa couldn’t take her eyes off the sight in front of her, staring at the raging monster that stood in front of her.  Is he really a monster? she thought as he flicked droplets of blood from his claws.  How can he be my husband and act like this?
         “Babe?  Elisa, are you alright?” he asked, waving his claw at her.
         She blinked several times, staring up at the monster speaking to her.  “Yeah, we need to get out of here.”
         “Where’s the truck?”
- - - -
         Lisa scanned the building with her hunting rifle, spotting Elisa and James through one of the outside windows.  Breathing slowly, she fired at the pair; the first round went high, shattering glass around them.  Her next round found its target, cutting into Elisa’s side and dropping her to the ground.  She was re-aiming for another shot when deafening sirens filled her ear.  Behind her, state patrol cars were grinding to a stop at the warehouse’s front.  Following the state patrol, were a group of black sedans and SUV’s, each with blue sirens on their dashboards.
         State patrolmen and FBI agents burst out of their vehicles, using the doors for cover and aiming their assault rifles at the hunters.  “This is the FBI, put your weapons down!” one of the agents yelled through a bullhorn.
         “Fuck!” Lisa swore, twisting on the balls of her feet and sending a round through the bullhorn owner’s door.  She keyed her radio as the FBI opened fire on the group of hunters.  “Michael, cops are here.  Get us mobilized and get us out of here!”
         “On it,” Michael responded, gunshots audible over his radio.
         The soldier’s leader was behind another of the hunter’s truck, a few feet away from Lisa.  “Get some of your friends down here!” she yelled at him.
         “Can’t,” he yelled back, “you know the rules!”
         “Fuck!” she screamed.
         The loading dock’s doors exploded open as her only remaining armored truck drove through them, plowing aside the hunter’s other vehicles.  James was in the driver’s seat, his eyes locking on Lisa as he accelerated through the group of hunters and soldiers.  Lisa dove out of the way as her cover was flipped onto its side by the truck.  The armored truck continued through the FBI and police vehicles, easily shoving them aside and speeding up the narrow road.
         “Damn it!”