Apocalyptic Moon (After the Bane) (4 page)

She had to escape and find her brother and niece. Were they even alive? She memorized the code to her door but where would she run to next? Who knew how far underground she was. While absconded to the experimental lab, she’d gathered as much detail as possible. Fully armed soldiers patrolled every inch of the facility. They donned all black uniforms. On their left shoulder sleeve was a circular insignia of the international symbol for biological hazard in yellow but with a red skull in its center. Were they even part of the United States Forces, or maybe a global organization? Was escape possible? If she did get to the surface, would it be Alaska or the Nevada desert? Against severe elements, she wouldn’t last wearing thin cotton drawstring pants, a tank top and slipper socks. Her biggest problem would be confronting a world of ravenous flesh eating zombies.

The elevator door opened. Dr. Mansfield stepped in with three black uniformed soldiers. Her heart skipped a beat. Loneliness had set in. Even the sight of her tormentor brought her sick comfort. He wore a lab coat over his black uniform. Not her type. He had a gray buzz cut, was medium built and stout, perhaps around age forty-five. Normally his face lacked emotion, but today he had a fierce scowl. Directed at her. Why? If anybody had the right to feel put upon, it was her, not him. He punched the numbers in the keypad and walked in. She stepped back. “Hey, what’s up?”

He snorted hatred, gripped her arms and shook her. “Bitch!” He threw her against the bed. His manner had always been rough and non-caring, but never angry.

She straightened and rubbed her bruised arms. “What’s wrong? Lost your funding?”

“Your fuckin’ blood serum didn’t work!”

“This virus is different. It might take years to create the proper vaccine.”

He leaned against the wall, a fist to his head. “I tried it on my daughter.”

Daughter?
Dora lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to reach out and comfort him. How was she supposed to know he had a child? That made him less of a monster. She tempered her usually sarcastic tone. “How long was she infected?”

“A few days before your arrival. My ex-wife bit her. When Taylor turned, I tried everything. I fed her monkey meat to keep her satisfied and then…damn it, human flesh.” He sighed in despair. “You were my last hope.” After weeks of abuse, which included being bitten by two zombies to determine if she was still immune, she pitied him.

“Look. I believe someone bioengineered Z-phage to destroy humankind and included some sort of tweaking that in the event of immunity would prevent us from creating a cure. An engineered self-programming virus.”

He scoffed. “I’ve worked in beyond top-secret black operations my entire career. If some lab was working on this bioweapon, I would’ve known about it.”

“Well apparently this one snuck by you. Hell, the ET theory is growing on me.”

He exhaled a deep breath and his gaze grew distant. “On me, too.”

“Since I’m useless, please let me go. I need to find my family.”

He narrowed his eyes. Back to the cold Nazi doctor demeanor. “Go where? Few have survived. Martial law failed. There’s nowhere to run from the rampaging zombies. The few humans that have survived are gangs of thugs out to steal, rape and pillage. Only the…” He pressed his lips tight. “At least here you’re safe for now.”

He held something back. But what? “I don’t care. I’ll take my chances. At least I’m immune.”

He whirled around and stared at her. “Precisely, you’re a child-bearing age woman immune to Z-phage. You might be humankind’s only chance of survival. The new Eve.”

Used as a broodmare.
Ooh, gross
. The thought of cold Mansfield thinking of himself as Adam on top of her caused her stomach to twist in disgust.

****

Dirk slowed his bike and parked beneath the shadow of Mt. Shasta in California where his pack kept a secret compound. Twenty minutes late. Shit. With no time to freshen up, he entered the meeting hall and approached the alpha table. At least he’d been careful about blood splatter and looked presentable enough. His uncle gave him a pointed glare and his sister flashed him a smile. The betas rose and bowed as he swaggered to his seat. The alphas remained seated. “Sorry, Fang had to take a piss.” He directed a hard stare at any daring to poke fun of his pet.

Talon, alpha of the Fenrir Arbor pack, stood and presented the two other wolf groups, the devoutly religious Benandanti or Hounds of God and the human hating Vircolac. Talon first addressed Pater Valeray, alpha of the Benandanti. Then he introduced Cezar the Black, alpha of the Vircolac. Three enemy packs, together. “This is my alpha nephew, Dirk Gunderson, son of my beta brother Darius.”

The visiting alpha leaders growled long and hard to ensure he’d seen their fierce fangs. Dirk growled back. He didn’t tone down his sarcasm and offered his hand to empty air. Their kind never shook hands. “Well what will it be wolves? Fight to the death or drinks?”

Valeray sniffed in distain and yet jibed in admiration, “The hunter of the hunters.”

Dirk didn’t like his scent either. He grinned, displaying his razor-sharp fangs. “An honor, Pater.” He shifted his glare to Valeray’s two alpha men. They wore ridiculous-looking Templar-like knight attire of a long white hooded tunic plastered with a blood red cross above a dark wolf paw.
Hate you, too
.
Why the hell did the Fenrir Arbor packs want to merge with these close-minded religious fanatics? And worse, the man-killing Vircolac pack?

Valeray pointed to the man on his right. “This is General Theo, hunter of the Melandanti.” The hunter of witches, they called the Melandanti, nodded with a steely glare. Valery gestured to a tall blond blue-eyed alpha, the only alpha of Dirk’s height, six foot five. The alpha and he locked eyes.
Now that would be a brawl to end all brawls.
“This is Captain Maddox, like you a hunter of hunters.”

Dirk bowed to Maddox in respect. “I have that in common with you.” He turned and growled at General Theo. “I’m not fond of lady killers.”

Theo spat, “Witches are whores of the devil.” He placed his hand over his heart and stared with religious fervor at Dirk. “Beware of the Melandanti, her spell will bind you.”

Dirk snorted. “We call them wise women of the forest.” His uncle didn’t say a word, though he too agreed. The Benandanti believed the mixing of shifter types, especially mixing with humans, a sin. They despised all other non-wolf shifters, and deemed them in league with the devil. A personal insult to his uncle Talon whose wife, Phoenix, was a hawk shifter. Their son, Falco, turned out to be both a hawk and beta wolf shifter and considered a hybrid bastard by the Benandanti. Was working with these assholes worth it?

Pater Valeray interrupted what could become a non-ending argument that would lead to an all out fur flying brawl. “Nonetheless, since the Bane, we have focused our energies toward stopping the zombie pestilence and have momentarily suspended our campaign against the Melandanti.” He scowled at Dirk. “However, our treaty will be broken if you think of harboring witches.”

Cezar the Vircolac grinned. “Soon the world will return to us.” The alpha of the human hating pack would no doubt vote to let the Bane take its course. The Vircolac had been decimated to a few packs in both America and Europe by the once powerful Consortium of Werewolf Hunters, the Kindred. Not a big surprise since the Vircolac fondness for killing humans put them in the limelight. The only problem was the hunters killed all werewolves indiscriminately.

Talon gestured them to sit. “God knows how long our packs have been enemies, but we must come together to stop the zombie infestation.”

“Agreed,” said Valeray. “God released the zombie Bane to punish sinners and it’s our religious duty to find and save the worthy and fateful.”

Sierra shook her head. “We must save all of humanity.”

Dirk smiled at his sister. She’d surprised everyone after she decided to take a human as a mate. Ethan had found her riddled with silver bullets. After nursing her back to health, he brought her home. Dirk couldn’t blame her for loving a weak human. They were not all bad. Besides, what had that family he saved on the road done to hurt anyone? He only hated the Kindred hunters. Eventually they too would succumb to the zombie virus.

The stench of tension permeated the air like thick cheap cologne.

Talon scanned the conference table. His eyes narrowed briefly on each alpha. “We have always remained in the shadows, while humans evolved, conquered, and created not only technology but works of art and music. I for one will not turn my back on humans who seek refuge in my territory.”

Valeray smiled and rested his brawny fist over the cross on his tunic. “Fair enough. The Benandanti shall gather the faithful.”

Cezar the Vircolac sneered. “Any human we take in will be our slave and serve us.”

Sierra glared at him. “You mean, you’ll serve them for dinner.”

Cezar laughed. “Daughter of Fenrir, surely you don’t believe the rumors that we eat humans? Too gamey. Humans are useful. Myself, I’ll miss hockey and football.” Many laughed. Sports of endurance and strength with the possibility of blood and broken bones, was human entertainment werewolves enjoyed. “We’ll take in any human willing to rebuild our fallen society. However, know this: They’ll learn to obey their new master.”

Dirk sensed his fraternal sister’s heartbeats accelerate and held her tightening fist. Any moment she might pounce on Cezar. Physically, he and Sierra looked unrelated. He had red hair and brawny build, and she, blonde hair and petite, but they shared their fiery temper.

Valeray glared at the Vircolac, and spat, “Go back to the old world, servants of Satan.”

Cezar glowered back. “Come and smite me, religious freak!”

Talon pounded his fist on the oak table and snarled. “Enough. Our packs must work together to save the United States.”

“There is no
United States
,” scoffed Valeray.

Talon’s fangs extended, and he stood. Though Dirk now towered over his uncle, Talon’s dominant presence still made him want to piss himself. “The purpose of the meeting is to end the Bane. I need not remind you that our betas and omegas are vulnerable to zombie attack while in their human forms.” He paced, his brow wrinkled in worry.

The werewolves growled in agreement. The only time the lower ranked werewolves could shift was during the full moon. Zombie swarms had already decimated many packs.

“We must therefore seek help from other members of the Mythos Consortium.” Talon nodded at a young beta at the door.

The door opened and the beta announced, “The others have arrived and wait in the hall.”

Valeray raised a brow. “What others?”

Talon smiled. “I invited members of the Mythos Consortium, but only the Ravens came.”

Dirk raised an eyebrow.
Now this is going to be fun
. The raven shifters hated the Benandanti almost as much as his pack did.

Valeray’s beta priest, Obadiah, protested. “They are Satan’s kin.”

Talon shot the priest a hard stare and then addressed his beta, “Tell them to come in.”

The door swung open. King Corax of the North American Raven Murder and Queen Morgan waltzed in, dressed in black silk robes adorned with raven feathers. They’d also brought along Princess Ravenna, the raven page-haired beauty with purple eyes. Rave, as she preferred to be called, wore a black corset and a flowing black skirt. Her gothic makeup made her look like a sex-starved vampire. The Benandanti wolves stiffened but were polite enough not to growl. Maddox seemed transfixed by Rave and she smiled at him. He furrowed his brow, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He huffed at her insolence and obvious distaste for her silver tongue stud. He turned away and stared at the far wall. His face flushed scarlet red.

Interesting
. The scent of his lust must be embarrassing for Captain Maddox. Rave had the reputation of seducing many a man and shifter. However, her parents planned to marry the royal princess off to a raven prince.

Behind them, raven guards dressed in black leather, dark boots and cloaks followed. Introductions were made, and meat-laden hors d'oeuvres and beverages served.

Dirk scanned his pack. He leaned over to his sister. “Where’s Ethan?”

She gave him a pointed look. “No humans allowed.” She growled in the direction of Cezar. “Come on. Let’s get some fresh air before I bite off someone’s nose.” They walked outside beneath the crescent moon’s shadow.

Dirk scratched at his new beard’s growth. “Now I’m offended and not just for you sis, I kind of like Ethan.” He’d grown fond of the human who’d saved his sister’s life. He always thought she would marry a strong alpha. Ethan bore Sierra’s fierce bite on his right shoulder, marking him as hers. No other werewolf could harm him, at least not without causing a pack war.

“Nice to know. Besides, you can’t categorize all humans with werewolf hunters.”

“True. Though after we’re done here, I plan to find Jaeger and add his scalp to my werewolf hunter collection.”

“I wouldn’t bother, he might already be infected.”

“This is Vince Jaeger we’re talking about. The guy with three hundred wolf pelts. He’s not going to let it go that I killed his daddy.” He was the son of Justin Jaeger, the hunter who killed his immediate family and almost killed Sierra four years ago. Dirk killed Justin Jaeger in justified revenge, but the act placed Dirk on Jaeger Jr.’s top wanted werewolf list.

She sighed. “Oh Dirk, can’t you let it go? Help us find humans who can help us build back society. Besides, Jaeger has probably given up hunting us to kill zombies.”

Had marriage to a human made her soft? He frowned. “Last I heard he recruited thirty new ex-military hunters.”

“My point exactly. Let Maddox hunt them. That is, if the zombies haven’t already had Jaeger for dinner.”

“Please, what about my ego? You really don’t want the pussy Hound of God to beat my record.” Maddox came a close second as the most successful hunter of the Kindred. He’d just moved from England to the United States and if not for his religious fanaticism, he and Dirk would’ve made an excellent hunting team.