Werewolf Chronicles Chapter 7

Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 7

         The clearing was small, barely large enough for the tents that occupied it; six tents were situated in a half circle, with one large canvas enclosure at the far end.  Vehicles, mostly trucks, were parked in the middle of the loop, their occupants kneeling behind them for cover.  At the entrance to the clearing were two heavily modified trucks, more vehicles situated behind them.  Fire had engulfed several of the tents, already spreading onto the back of one of the trucks and working up its body quickly.  Werewolves were crouching behind the damaged vehicles, armed with an assortment of weapons and firing at the attacking group of hunters.  Bullets slammed into the modified trucks, their armor easily absorbing their impacts with dull pings.
         One of the werewolves emerged from behind their cover, aiming a massive rocket launcher at the attacking group.  The rocket zoomed out of the launcher as its firer was riddled by bullets and knocked to the ground.  The projectile slammed into the lead truck, its warhead driving through the armor and detonating its explosive core.  The truck turned into a massive ball of flame, bits of armor flipping high up into the air.  Elisa was thrown onto the ground by the explosion; bullets crashed into the mud around her, throwing splashes of dirt onto her face and into her eyes.
         She pushed herself onto her hands as more rounds tore into the space around her.  One round tore into her calve, another into her arm and she was thrown onto her back.  “Damn it, fuck!”
- - - -
         Three Months Earlier

         The Dodge truck was parked in the back corner of the gas station parking lot, engine off and the windows rolled all the way down.  Elisa drummed her fingers nervously on the truck’s window sill, smoking the last cigarette in her package.  “Where are you James?”  She had already been waiting most of the night, and the sun was rising brightly over the horizon.  Before long, she would have to leave the parking lot to avoid anyone noticing the bright red vehicle and find a safe place to hide for the day.  In two days she would have to drive to Texas by herself, and hope that James had managed to make his way there.  Tossing her finished cigarette out the window, she popped the door open, stepping out; there was another complete carton in the truck’s bed.
         “He’s dead.”
         Elisa spun around, reaching for the handgun hidden in her belt, but she fumbled and it dropped loudly onto the parking lot.  Behind her was a tall, blue haired woman, holding a large revolver loosely at her side.  Farther out in the parking lot Elisa could make out several more armed people, but she couldn’t see any of their faces clearly.  “Who the hell are you?”
         “Lisa,” she said, bending over and picking up the dropped handgun.  “Your husband is as good as dead.”
         “He told me about you.  Aren’t you trying to kill him?” Elisa asked, edging slowly towards the back of the truck.
         “But not you!” Lisa pleaded, walking slowly towards her.  “You still have a chance to redeem yourself, help us track down his pack and kill them.”
         “No, bitch.”  Elisa dove towards the back of the truck, a rifle butt appeared out of nowhere, cracking across the bridge of her nose.  Stars flashed across her eyes and she dropped to the ground.
- - - -
         “Why don’t we just kill her?”
         Elisa was barely conscious, ache pulsing rapidly through the front of her head.
         “Because, I want to keep her.”
         A hood was draped over her head, and tough rope was wrapped around her wrists and ankles.
         “Why damn it?  What if her husband comes after her?  You saw what he did to those Aperture Science guys!”
         “But imagine how pissed Elisa will be when she finds out her husband is dead.  All we have to do is point her anger at someone.”
         “Like James’ pack?”
         “Use her to destroy those bastards.”
- - - -
         Cold water splashed across Elisa’s face, jolting her awake; she coughed roughly, trying to clear the icy liquid from her throat and mouth.  She was in a small tent, laying on a ragged and stained mattress. Her hand felt wrong, and she looked down finding out why: her wedding ring was missing, only a tan line showing that she had worn it remained behind.  Elisa groaned, sitting up and pushing wet hair out of her face.  Standing above her was Lisa, along with a large man standing behind her.  “Get up.”
         “Bitch, what the hell is your problem!?” Elisa shouted, jumping to her feet.
         Lisa threw her left fist out, the brass knuckles connecting with Elisa’s temples and dropping her to the ground.  “Ready to start?”
         “Start what?” she asked, rubbing her temples and trying not to tear up.
         “Get up and follow me.  Now.”
         “Why?”
         “We’re either going to train you, or kill you.”
         Elisa followed the tall woman, the guard staying several feet behind them.  They were in what appeared to be a small, rundown campground; vehicles and tents were scattered at random intervals around them.  “Where are we?”
         “North.”
         Bitch.  “So, why am I here?”
         “I want you to kill your husband’s pack.”
         “Fuck you, I don’t do have to do what you tell me.  I’m not part of your little fuckin’ band here.”
         “They killed James, they turned him into that monster, made him into a murderer!”
         “I’m not going to help you.”
         “Fine, don’t.  Take what I’m willing to give you, and use it how you want, but when I’m done, you’ll want to kill them as badly as I do.”
         “Like hell.”
         Lisa called one of her guards over, whispering quietly into her ear and taking his sidearm from its holster.  The guard disappeared, reappearing several minutes later with a stapler and a stack of paper; on each piece of paper was a shooting target, small numbers increasing as they approached the center.  Lisa handed the weapon to Elisa.  “Shoot the target.”
         “What?  I’ve never done that, fired a gun before.”
         “Well, learn quickly.”  She pushed the handgun into her palms, forcing Elisa’s fingers into a proper shooting stance.  “Breath slowly and fire the gun.”
         “No.”
         Lisa un-holstered her revolver, cocking the hammer back and shoving the barrel roughly into Elisa’s lower back.  “You fire or I do, I don’t have any patience for cowards.”
         “Fine.”  Elisa pulled the trigger in rapid succession, the rounds going in every direction, striking against parked trucks and tearing through canvas tents.  Hunters dove out of the way, seeking cover behind trucks, trees, anything that could protect them from the stray bullets.  “That’s kind of fun!”
         “Hold the weapon steady, watch your damn breathing,” Lisa asked, grinding her teeth together.  Angry shouts echoed across the small camp, several hunters flipping he the bird and gesturing at their own weapons.
         Elisa held the weapon nervously, firing the last two rounds; one round went high, ricocheting off the base of the tree, while the other round smacked against the edge of the target.  “At least I hit the paper.”
         The werewolf hunter groaned, rubbing her temples.  “Hold your breath as you fire, and don’t yank the trigger!”
         “What am I supposed to do then?” she demanded, dropping the spent magazine.  “You didn’t really give me a choice!”
         “Do what you did fighting that werewolf!”
         Elisa stopped, turning to look at the hunter behind her.  “How did you know about that?”
         “I am not a bumbling renegade, even though your husband may have thought I was.  Now, calm down, breath and shoot that target.”
         Reloading the handgun slowly, she brought the weapon up, aligning the sights with the target.  She could remember James talking about shooting ranges in the army, always talking about his sighting and breathing.  He had always thought she wasn’t paying attention, or didn’t care what he said, but it found a way into her mind now.  Calm down, breath, focus on the target, not the gun, she thought, staring at the black circle.  She slowly began squeezing the trigger, preparing herself for the large bang, trying to jerk away again.  The handgun exploded in her hand, surprising her as the round flew through the air, he eyes reflexively squeezing shut.
         “Well, you did better this time.”
         Opening her eyes slowly, she looked down at the target; there was a hole drilled just off the center of the target.  “Yay, I did it!”
         “Now, do it again.”
         Elisa spun around, knocking Lisa’s revolver out of her hand and aiming the Glock at the center of the hunter’s forehead.  “Now, you’re going to give me a truck, and tell me where my husband is!”  The handgun was shaking violently in her hand and she was having trouble keeping the barrel aimed at Lisa’s face.
         Lisa waved calmly at her guards as they approached the pair, their weapons aimed at Elisa’s back.  “Ever shot anyone before?”
         “N-no,” she stuttered, her palms starting to sweat and make the handgun slippery.
         “Its hard the first time, especially when it’s a human being,” Lisa walked towards Elisa, only stopping once the barrel was pressing against her chest.
         “You don’t know me bitch, I’ll shoot you!”
         “No you won’t.”  The hunter pushed the weapon to the side as Elisa fired, the round slamming harmlessly into the ground.  Elisa kicked her knee up into Lisa’s stomach, pulling the handgun back and re-aiming it at her chest.  Lisa stepped forward, grabbing the handgun again and twisting it painfully back.  She swore as her thumb was bent backwards, pain shooting up her arm and forcing her to release the handgun.  Lisa punched her several times in rapid succession, locking one leg behind the woman and tossing her backwards onto the ground.  The hunter charged the handgun, aiming it down at her.
         “Fuck you!” Elisa said through a mouthful of blood.
         “That’s the fight I’m talking about.  All that anger and rage!”  The watching guards approached the pair once the fight had finished, pulling Elisa roughly to her feet.  “If you use that against Maxwell’s pack, it would be an amazing sight.”
         “Bitch.”
         “Take her to the RV, give her a first-aid kit.”
- - - -
         Elisa dropped down onto the bed, stuffing her face into the cheap pillows and crying loudly.  It had been two months since she had arrived at the hunter’s camp, and every day had been more brutal than the last.  They had started working her almost constantly with every kind of physical labor they could find or make up.  Added into that had been firearms training and unarmed combat; it had been brutal, her body was covered in more bruises than she could keep track of.  Her skin had tanned to a deep golden color, and she had lost several pounds; she felt great, except for the captivity and loss of James.  The hunters never seemed to stay in any one place for more than a few weeks, and she had no idea where they were currently at.  She couldn’t figure out what Lisa really wanted with her, why the woman was putting her through all of this.
“James can’t be dead,” she mumbled into the pillow; she was in the RV’s master bedroom, complete with her own shower and toilet.
         There was several rapid knocks on the thin door and Lisa stepped slowly inside.  “How are you doing?”
         “What do you care?” she snapped, sitting up and wiping her eyes with the sheet.
         Lisa sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor.  “My parents are dead, killed by lycanthropes.”
         “So?”
         “When I was about fourteen or so, we were camping in Mississippi, when a werewolf attacked us.  I was in the shitter when it happened, so by the time I got back, all that was left was a bloody mess.  And you know what?”
         “Huh?”
         “All he wanted was our money and the car, but instead of just scaring them, he ripped them apart, tore them to pieces.”
         Elisa kept her mouth shut, unsure how to respond.
         “Do you know the things he’s done?”
         “I know he saved me, that’s what matters.  Those assholes hurt me and he kicked their asses!”
         Lisa stood up, turning on the bedroom’s television and inserting a DVD into the player.  “A month ago he attacked a government facility; it was an unprovoked and a brutal attack,” she said, hitting play on the television.
         A black and white security feed appeared on the small television, a time stamp rolling slowly along in the bottom corner.  James was standing in what looked like a police interrogation room, a damaged steel table shoved against its entrance door.  He kicked the man in front of him in the chest, sending him flying through the air and crashing through the observation window.  James leapt forward and the camera changed angles, showing the observation room and its occupants, fighting to escape the ravaging beast.  Elisa had to cover her eyes as he began pounding two of the men into the wall, not stopping until his claws were covered in bits of blood and brain matter.  The screen changed again, this time he was attacking several white coated men; cracking his fist against one, grabbing the other one and smashing him against the wall with savage strength.  The camera changed angle as commandos rushed into the room, firing electrodes into his fur.  He began tearing into the men, blood and limbs spraying out across the ground.
         Lisa paused the DVD.  “The next part might be rough.”
         Elisa crossed her arms, scowling at the hunter.
         When she un-paused the recording, the view changed, now it was looking down on a stainless steel morgue table.  On it was a dead werewolf, bullet holes riddling its body and nearly half of one arm had been torn away.  She recognized the clothing that James had been wearing the night he left, she bite her knuckle, trying not to cry, but it was useless.  Fresh tears began to flow down her cheek, and she fought the muffled sobs that escaped her throat.  Lisa reached out to comfort her, but Elisa shot to her feet and whirled around.
         “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” Elisa screamed.
         “I didn’t kill him, he got himself killed,” Lisa yelled in response, “He was a raging, murderous, lunatic and got killed while trying to kill innocent people.”
         “They didn’t look innocent!”
         “Your husband was a monster, created by monsters and he was raging lunatic when they killed him,” she yelled, jumping to her feet and charging out of the RV.
         “Bitch.”
- - - -
         “I don’t want to be disturbed,” Lisa said, pushing into her tent.  Inside was a small desk, on which was a laptop connected to a complicated looking satellite receiver.  She pressed her finger against the small biometric reader, the laptop opening an encrypted video connection with the rest of the network.
         A neatly groomed elderly man, dressed in a military uniform was on the screen; it had been cleaned of any identifying marks.  “Kopek.”
         “General,” she said, barely resisting the urge to salute the officer.
         “Give me a status report.”
         “Sir, we are closing in on a local pack, but I may need more time.  Maxwell’s pack is still my main target, I believe they have a much larger pack than we initially though, but I don’t want to scare them away.”
         “Continue trailing them, but do not lose them.  Understand?”
         “Yes sir.”
         “What about that woman you captured, her name was?” he said, gesturing with an impatient hand gesture.
         “Elisa Ross sir.  I’m not sure if she’s broken, but I think she finally believes her husband is dead.”
         “Kopek, I understand your desire to use her, but don’t let your personal feelings cloud your judgment.”
         “Sir?”
         “If you can’t use her against Maxwell, dispose of her.  Redjack is your main focus, understood?”
         “Yes . . .” the connection died before she could finish, “ . . . sir.”
- - - -
         Elisa continued to cry as Lisa stormed out of the room, rubbing the light indentation where her wedding band had rested.  Don’t act like this, she thought, you’re not some helpless ditz.  Get out of here and find out what’s going on.  She paced slowly around the room, scanning the windows and doors; nothing had changed in her months of captivity, it still looked impossible to escape from.  Elisa dropped down onto the floor with a hollow pop, resting her forehead against her hands, trying not to cry again.  “Wait a sec,” she mumbled to herself, turning over and running her palms over where she had dropped down.  Just beneath the bed she found a torn piece of the carpet; grasping at it with her nails, she was able to tear it up and roll the carpet aside.  Set in the floor was a small maintenance panel, stainless steel pull rings set into each corner.  Elisa pulled the panel open, wedging it against the door and leaning her head out.  The panel opened just between the RV’s waste tank and the fuel tank; it was small, but Elisa was sure that she could force through if she tried.
         “Here goes.”  She pushed her legs through first, her bare toes squishing into the muddy ground.  The grass tickled her arms as she pushed her entire body under the vehicle, flattening it and pushing herself up to the back bumper.  Elisa watched Lisa talk to several guards and enter her personal tent.  It seemed like an eternity as she waited for the guards to move away from the truck; she pushed her body up, running across the campground.  She stopped behind the nearest tent, easing her way around and sprinting over to Lisa’s tent.  Elisa eyed the tent guard carefully, waiting until he lit cigarette, before moving up to the edge.  There were two voices inside, one she recognized as Lisa’s, but the other was a strong male voice.
“Elisa Ross sir.  I’m not sure if she’s broken, but I think she finally believes her husband is dead.”
         “Kopek, I understand your desire to use her, but don’t let your personal feelings cloud your judgment.”
         “Sir?”
         “If you can’t use her against Maxwell, dispose of her.  Redjack is your main focus, understood?”
         “Yes . . . sir.”  Lisa shut the laptop roughly, storming angrily out of her tent and up to the guard.  “Get Elisa, she’s coming on the raid with us.”
         “Shit,” Elisa mumbled, darting away from the tent and dropping down beneath a large four-wheel drive truck.  She crawled beneath the large suspension, kneeling behind the fat tire so she could watch the guard.  He was halfway on his way to the RV, stopping to talk with another guard.  Elisa couldn’t hear what they were saying, and didn’t care, right now she had to get back to her prison before anyone realized she was missing.  She moved at a slow jog, her arms swinging easily at her side and, air puffing out of her lungs in large white clouds.  This isn’t so bad, she thought, sliding to a stop behind the RV.  The front door banged open as the guard stepped loudly inside.  “Shit,” Elisa grunted, crawling beneath the rear of the truck.  It seemed to be a tighter fit than on the way out, her sides catching on the tanks as she pushed open the panel and crawled inside.
         There was a loud pounding on the door, shaking the cheap material in its frame.  “Get up, and get dressed.”
         Elisa started towards the door, stopping to check herself over in the mirror.  “Crap,” she muttered.  Mud was coating her feet, knees and palms from where she had crawled beneath the RV.  Rushing through the room, she ripped a towel off the dresser, frantically wiping at her hands and legs.  It took her several long moments before she was satisfied with the cleaning job; it wasn’t perfect, but she was hoping that it would blend in with her skin.
         The guard pushed inside, leading with his shotgun.  “What’s taking so long, hurry up!”
         Elisa pulled a pair of ragged boots on, standing up to face the guard.  “Relax, asshole.”
- - - -
         “I count at least a dozen,” Michael Guzman reported.  He was in his late thirties, with gray speckled black hair and a rough looking body.  Michael was scanning the small parking lot ahead of them with a pair of binoculars.  In the parking lot were several vans, along with a single truck pulling a large camper trailer.  The people were walking around the vehicles, waiting as several of their members hurried inside the store to buy supplies.  Most of them were talking and joking loudly, but a few of the older ones were scanning their surroundings with nervous eyes.
         “Thirteen,” Lisa said from the passenger seat of the truck, she was scanning with the scope of a high powered hunting rifle.  “Is everyone in position?”
         “What are you going to do?” Elisa asked, leaning forward from the back seat.
         “Get rid of those monsters,” she responded coldly.
         “Everyone’s set, just waiting on you,” Michael reported, holding out a small handheld radio to her.
         Lisa took the offered radio.  “Do it.”
         Two massive trucks exploded into the parking lot, crashing aside several of the parked cars.  Wrap around brush guards had been welded to the front of the vehicles, as well as steel plates over the front windshield and side windows; a narrow cut had been made in each window, allowing a slim area of visibility.  More armor plating had been built into the hood, fenders and front grille to reflect any potential damage.  More gunfire erupted from around the parking lot, rounds tearing into the guards, large caliber silver bullets exploding through their bodies in a red mist.  Several of the women grabbed the children and hurried them into the trailer as more weapons appeared from the defending werewolves.
         Bullets ricocheted off the armored trucks as the hunters moved carefully into position.  They moved with trained precision, one team sending covering fire at the lycanthropes while the other bounded forward; each team continued like that, tearing into the werewolves who were fast enough to defend themselves.  Bullets tore through their unarmored vehicles, driving into their occupants with little resistance.
         Elisa covered her mouth, suppressing a cry of shock as a child was cut down in a hail of bullets, his body dropping to the pavement.  “You can’t do this!” she screamed, pushing on the seat in front of her.
         Lisa elbowed her hard in the face, releasing her rifle and drawing the revolver in one smooth motion.  She pressed the cold barrel against the other woman’s throat.  “Just sit and watch.  They’re monsters, getting what they deserve.”
         The hunters moved systematically through the damaged vehicles, firing through the cabins at the few that still held occupants.  Their screams and pleas for help echoed across the parking lot, drilling into Elisa’s ears.  All of the hunter teams met at the front of the trailer, their assault rifles aimed steadily at the doors and windows.  A single lycanthrope female stood in front of the door, shielding it with her body.  She tried to plead with the hunters, but her cries fell on deaf ears.  All of the hunters fired at once, rounds cutting through her and into the slim aluminum walls of the trailer.  They continued to fire into the trailer, reloading their weapons and firing several more magazines before stopping.  To finish the job, two of the hunters stuck explosives beneath the trailer and sprinted hurriedly away.
         “Pull back, pull the truck back,” Lisa ordered.
         Michael dropped the transmission into reverse, pushing the accelerator hard.  The truck skidded out of the way, making room for the armored trucks to pull away from the trailer.  Banging the door open, several of the werewolves tried to escape, as the explosive satchels were triggered.  The explosion tore through the center of the trailer, throwing the two halves flipping into the air.  They came crashing down on the store front and onto the already damaged vehicles, igniting them instantly in a shower of burning fuel.
         Elisa screamed, pushing against the revolver.  “What is wrong with you!?”
         “They were monsters,” Lisa grunted.  “We just protected the rest of the human race.”
- - - -
         Elisa paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching her fists.  It had been two months since the massacre at the parking lot and she still couldn’t get the images out of her mind.  She dropped back onto the bed, sighing tiredly; her training and work load in the hunters’ camp had increased, and she was fighting to get fours of sleep.  It was exhausting, and she was having more and more trouble getting up each morning, but the cold buckets of water being splashed on her did help with that part.  She was still sneaking out at night, or whenever the group of hunters stopped long enough to set up camp.  The hunter camp was somewhere in Arkansas, but she couldn’t figure out exactly where they were in the state.
         This morning, she had woken up before the guard came with the bucket of cold water, and to her surprise there wasn’t any training for today.  Apparently the hunters had found another group of werewolves and were preparing to attack them.  None of the guards were willing to tell her anything, but she had been able to overhear enough fireside chatter to piece together their plan.  The hunters had found a pack at an old, closed down, state camping ground; it was larger than the last pack, its numbers close to a hundred.
         There were two short knocks at her door and Lisa pushed it open, tossing a pistol belt onto the bed.  “Get ready, you’re coming with us again.”
         “Why?” she snapped.
         “You will learn to fight these creatures, and see them for what they really are.  Just because a few didn’t kill you outright doesn’t make them all good.”
         “It doesn’t make them all bad either!”
         “You’ll see, every lycanthrope has a rage, and they’ll kill anyone that gets in their way.  They’re nothing but blood thirsty monsters.”
         “James wasn’t like that, he never hurt me.”
         “He would have.”
         Elisa cursed under her breath, crossing her arms.
“Enough of this,” Lisa said, grabbing the pistol belt and forcibly wrapping it around Elisa’s waist.  “Come on.”  She wanted to argue more, but she decided to remain quiet, checking the Glock as she followed the hunter out to the waiting vehicles.  Nearly all of the hunters’ vehicles were waiting in the small camping area, everyone checking their weapons and equipment.
         Lisa pushed her towards one of the armored trucks.  “Get in there.”
         “What!?”
         “Just get in, I want you to have a good idea what those wolves are capable of.”
- - - -
         The pair of armored trucks sat quietly at the edge of the clearing, their engines off and their occupants quiet.  Other vehicles and teams of hunters were scattered around the perimeter, each of them awaiting Lisa’s cue to begin the attack.  The clearing was barely large enough for the seven tents inside it; six smaller ones arranged in front of one large canvas tent.  Mostly trucks were parked among the tents, though she could see a few cars and vans as well.  Campfires were dotted around the campground, providing the only illumination in the small clearing.  Dotted around the fires were both werewolves and normal people; they were cooking food and marshmallows, joking loudly.
         Elisa sat in the truck’s passenger seat, her hands wrapped nervously together.  She didn’t want to kill anyone, but she wasn’t sure how long she could stay in the hunters’ group without doing it.  I have to convince them, she thought, need the time to find James.  If he’s still alive.
         Lisa shouted over the radio, and everything seemed to happen at once.  The modified trucks roared angrily to life, bursting out of the tree line and driving towards the front of the parked vehicles.  Both sides of the clearing exploded in gunfire, the hidden teams firing their assault rifles into the surprised werewolves.  Molotov cocktails lofted over the attacking hunters, exploding against the thin tents and instantly igniting them.  The modified trucks slammed into the lead vehicles, tossing them to the side as they plowed nearly halfway through the campground.  Their transmissions ground as the drivers shifted the trucks into reverse, pulling the trucks back to the edge of the campground.
         The werewolves were more organized than the previous group, withdrawing weapons quickly out of their vehicles and tents.  Before Elisa could react, bullets began pinging loudly against the armored trucks, but the driver didn’t seem to care.  He shifted back into drive, pressing angrily at the gas pedal; the engine roared loudly, but the tires spun useless behind them.  Elisa looked in the side mirror, a large fountain of mud was being sprayed high into the air.
         “We’re stuck,” the driver said.
         “No shit,” Elisa snapped.
         “Get out and push.”
         “Hell no.”
         “Do it, or we’re dead!”
         “Shit,” Elisa swore, pushing the door open and diving out.  Before she hit the ground, bullets were flying at her; they pinged loudly against the truck’s armor, and dove into muddy dirt around her feet.  She reached the back of the truck, leaning tiredly against it; her heart pounding so hard if felt as if it were trying to escape her chest.  It was the same sensation she had experienced when fighting Katalyn, everything seemed to be slowing down around her.  Elisa turned towards the truck, readying herself to push it as one of the werewolves rolled out from behind cover, a rocket launcher shoved against his shoulder.  Not good.  She watched the rocket leave the tube, its orange gout of flame shoving it towards the truck as the werewolf was cut nearly in half by gunfire.
         The warhead slammed into the truck, driving through the armor and detonating its explosive contents.  The explosion of the truck threw her several feet along the ground, landing painfully against the cold ground.  Bullets rained down around her, digging through the mud and throwing dirt onto her face.  She pushed herself as two of the rounds struck her; one tore into her calve, the other ripping through her arm and tossing her to the ground.  “Damn it, fuck!”
         Lisa held one arm up to shield her face against the fireball that had been one of her armored trucks, swearing loudly.  She watched bullets tear into several of her hunters; determined, she leaned against her scope and sighted over one of the werewolves, and pulled the trigger.  Not waiting for the body to drop, she turned towards the next target, firing, then moving onto the next, continuing her attack.  She fired the last round out of her magazine, ejecting it and slamming a fresh one into the well and continuing her attack.
         Elisa cursed, rolling across the mud and behind one of the hunters’ trucks, bullets following her retreat.  The roar echoed through her ears, as a massive gray furred werewolf leaped over her cover, landing onto one of the other hunters; the hunter collapsed under the impact, the werewolf turning towards Elisa.  She could see the blood coated thickly on his mouth and claws, smell the sickly sweet aroma of freshly spilled blood coming from him.  Elisa rolled to the side as the werewolf attacked, his claws driving into the thin metal of the truck’s body.  Reacting faster than she thought possible, Elisa drew the Glock, firing several rounds at the raging werewolf.  Most of the rounds missed, though two of them found a target in his thighs and dropped him to one knee.  Still roaring, he lashed out with another claw; Elisa rolled backwards, the deadly claw barely missing her stomach.  Bracing herself with her foot, she fired the remainder of the clip as fast as she could manage.  The silver rounds tore through the werewolf’s chest and face, ripping off his jaw in a bloody mess.
         Elisa rolled to the side as the massive werewolf body fell loudly onto the ground, reloading her handgun and standing up.  More of the werewolves burst forward, their powerful claws ripping large furrows through the hunters’ flesh.  The humans screamed out in pain, clutching at disemboweled stomachs and missing limbs.  Elisa dodged a female werewolf as she lunged forward, barely avoiding the lethal claws.  She rolled to the side, firing twice quickly at the werewolf, the bullets digging furrows through her arm.  Growling, the werewolf leapt forward; Elisa caught the creature with her legs, its jaws snapping shut inches from her nose.  Shoving the pistol into the werewolf’s mouth, she fired off two quick rounds; the back of the werewolf’s head exploded in a rain of blood and bone.
         She rolled the werewolf away, laying against the ground and breathing deeply.  All around her gunshots echoed across the campground, occasionally mixed with a strangled roar or growl.  The armored truck popped and crackled as the flames continued to burn through the vehicle; several hunters had managed to keep the fire from reaching the fuel tank, but the vehicle looked like a complete loss to her.  Trying to stand up, pain shot through her leg and she fell back to the ground; more pain shot through her as she tried to catch herself with her injured arm.
“Damn it,” she muttered, smacking the ground angrily.
         “Good job,” Lisa said, standing over her with the hunting rifle.
         “Yeah . . .”
         “Let’s get you to the medic.”
- - - -
         Elisa limped tiredly through the RV’s cabin, bracing herself against the wall as the truck changed lanes.  Lisa sat at the dining table, cleaning her rifle from the night before, looking up as the other woman limped inside.  “Feeling better?”
         “A little,” she mumbled.
         “You impressed me last night; an amateur killing two werewolves, and with only a handgun.”
         She dropped with a thud onto the couch, wincing at the pain shooting through her thigh.  “I was just defending myself.”
         “Regardless, you survived while some of my more veteran hunters died.  More of our hunters had to be put down . . . they were infected.”
         “That’s cold . . .”
         “A person has to be in this line of work.  So, do you understand why we have to kill them all?”
         No.  “Yeah . . . but the killing still bothers me.”
         “You’ll get over it, it’s just a matter of realizing that they’re not really people, just raging animals.  Raging animals that need to be put down.”