“She’s very good at hiding her scent, I’ll give her that.” Amoc was saying as Sadie escorted a human girl into the clearing.
The hunt had been put on hold following Simon’s revelation about what Silverclaw had been doing when he had been killed by the dragon. Burgh swore up and down that he hadn’t known, and seemed to be telling the truth. Burgh did know about the hunts, and though it didn’t rule out willful ignorance about their choice of bait, it seemed more and more that Burgh and the three other surviving Fenris Garou didn’t entirely share Silverclaw’s vision.
“Too good.” Sadie confirmed. “Katie is the best snoop I’ve ever known. Always going places and hearing things she shouldn’t. And the more dangerous the better. How long have you been out there?”
Katie, Amoc had learned, had been the first to discover the secret of Mt. Weather’s Garou. She was young, early teens, maybe. According to Sadie, the revelation had come with no fear, just the joy of being proven right. In another life, a human like Katie would have been at very high risk of becoming a Hunter’s target.
It’s a good thing that life belongs to a world that no longer exists.
“Only a few minutes.” Katie replied, quietly.
“I’m not even going to bother asking why you’re out here, because I already know the answer to that question.” Sadie began the scolding. “So I’m going to ask why you think we’re out here. I’ll give you a hint: it’s got a lot to do with why coming out here alone is dangerous.”
Katie looked beyond Sadie, and her eyes went wide seeing Sam and Ben, both of whom were currently shifted into their war forms. Ben especially stood out; Amoc had never seen a Garou with a war form his size. Katie’s eyes darted around the Fenris Garou, all of them still in human form, before going to the very noticeable figures of Draki and Ari. Simon waved to Katie, from the cluster of himself, Maggie, and Marcus. Everyone not in war form was standing off to one side of Sam and Ben.
All activity had stopped and all eyes were now on Katie. Sam and Ben were both breathing hard from that activity, but Katie wasn’t afraid, just nervous. The realization impressed Amoc, and held true to what Sadie had said about her.
“Fighting?” Katie asked, not entirely sure of her response.
“Partial credit.” Sadie replied. “Learning to fight. Amoc here is teaching us how to kill Garou.”
That got a hint of fear from Katie, as Sadie emphasized the point.
“And why might he be doing that right now?” Sadie continued the scolding interrogation.
“Because something killed eight Garou and we don’t know where they are.” Katie correctly answered.
“Bingo.” Sadie’s tone was ice. “And there’s the reason why being out in the woods alone is extremely dangerous right now.”
Amoc had gone to the sites of both attacks after they had called off the hunt. No evidence of the bodies of any of the Garou or humans had been found, a fact that made Amoc exceptionally anxious. Gabriel had said they had burned, but Amoc had seen undead survive fire before. If they had turned, hopefully whatever effect the dragon had on undead had pushed them away.
But I’m not taking any chances. Greg wasn’t exactly thrilled when I told him I wanted to take all our Garou out for training, but it’s not like we’re far away, and we still seem to be undead-free. He was even less thrilled about the possibility of needing to defend against undead Garou. Any human death that doesn’t get accounted for is dangerous enough, never mind a Garou.
They were, in fact, only about a quarter mile from the fenceline of Mt. Weather, and Marcus was handling the regular radio check-ins that Greg had insisted on. Though wild animals and non-undead were still a threat, Amoc figured the short distance held little risk for Katie, but Sadie was definitely right on principle.
“I guess I’ll have to stay here with you.” Katie finally replied.
“You little…” Sadie began angrily, then realized Katie’s plot and changed course. “I should walk you back to Mt. Weather right now.”
“There’s no harm in it.” Amoc interjected. “She might even learn something. Plus, where’s Katie going to be more safe than with us?”
Sadie glared at Amoc. She took Katie’s wellbeing very seriously, that was obvious. She also didn’t want to give in to Katie’s very obvious tactic, which Amoc was conceding to. Sadie’s expression softened, and she turned back to Katie.
“You do not leave my sight for an instant.” Sadie ordered. “You’re lucky Amoc here has a soft spot for lost humans.”
My old life really is that far behind me.
Katie enthusiastically agreed to Sadie’s terms.
“Well… where were we?” Amoc said, turning to Ben and Sam.
“Ben’s still holding back.” Sam replied, in the war form’s gravelly voice.
“Right, let’s see what we can do about that.” Amoc mused.
As Amoc spared a glance, he could see Katie’s attention was now fixed on the two Garou in war form inside the makeshift fighting ring. Sadie was no doubt going to have words for Amoc later, but for now Katie was going to get a look into the Garou world that few non-Garou had ever seen.
They were wrong.
The thought echoed through Amoc’s head as he rushed through the woods in war form. It was only yesterday that he had called for a pause on the hunt for the dragon, and the undead had come crashing down on them. The alert had gone out not long after sunrise, and they had been caught with their guard down. Everyone was scattered. The Fenris Garou were out hunting to the west. Sam and Sadie were at the Fenris compound providing a guard for the teams gathering up supplies and equipment. Mt. Weather had exactly two Garou with any chance of intercepting the horde in time: Amoc and Ben.
And the dragon is still out there. I’d know if it had left.
But the dragon had nothing to do with repelling the undead. There had never been an anti-undead field outside of Albany. The horde of a hundred thousand corpses now bearing down on Mt. Weather proved that beyond any doubt. They had all been so focused on the dragon, and so relaxed from not having the pressure of dealing with the undead that they all hoped Simon’s theory was true. No one was kicking themselves more for that hope than Simon, who was now busy getting people into Mt. Weather’s bunker.
Amoc tried to focus on the plan as he ran at full speed. The undead were coming from the direction of Route 7, a state highway that led back to what used to be the most heavily populated area of the Mid-Atlantic.
Still populated by the undead. This is probably a splinter group that got pushed out.
The undead simply hadn’t been in this area for a couple of weeks. They were almost like the weather, coming and going as they pleased. It had just been a dry spell. None of this helped to think about right now, of course.
What would help is our dragon, but I can’t count on something I’ve never even seen. Ben is with me now, is a Garou, and is fighting for his home and his people. That’s something I can count on.
Ben would be getting a trial by fire. Amoc had been focusing on training with the young Garou at Mt. Weather when the alert sounded, and that training was about to get applied in a very real situation. Amoc had instructed Ben to lead the horde. That would be the safest place for him, as he would have the most options for maneuvering. Amoc would have the more difficult task of trying to pull the horde from the flank, away from Mt. Weather. His options for escape would be in only one direction, to the North.
And once we get the horde turned, then what? We’ll run out of land in about thirty, forty miles when we hit the Potomac. I’m not comfortable stopping a horde this size that close to Mt. Weather.
A realization came to Amoc, and he scolded himself for not remembering he’d been in exactly this situation before. The solution was obvious.
“Stop!” Amoc shouted to Ben.
Ben came to a stop and turned to face Amoc.
“We take them all the way to the Potomac.” Amoc explained. “And we don’t stop once we reach it. Straight in, full speed. Do you understand?”
Ben’s eyes said all Amoc needed to know. Undead didn’t tire. Garou did. Even for them it was going to be one hell of a run, but Ben understood the necessity. If they could get the horde spread out in the more open land to the north, they could send most of them straight into the rocky rapids of the Potomac.
While trying not to get smashed on the rocks ourselves.
“Yes.” Ben simply replied.
Amoc nodded and set off again. They had to hope the two of them would be enough to turn the horde. If any groups split off, well… hopefully Sam and Sadie would be back at Mt. Weather by then to handle it.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, Amoc finally caught the scent of the horde. They were close now, and it was time to execute their plan. Amoc slowed and Ben fell in next to him.
“You know what to do.” Amoc began. “You know where to go. You can do this.”
“What about you?” Ben asked.
How the hell did a Garou like Ben ever happen? He’s probably scared shitless right now, and he’s asking how I’m going to manage. What could we have been if we didn’t outcast Garou like him?
“I’ll be fine.” Amoc replied. “You stay focused on what you need to do.”
Ben nodded and resumed running in the direction of the horde. Amoc took off at a ninety degree angle to Ben’s path and started counting. Too close to Ben and they wouldn’t notice him. This was all about timing. Amoc came to a stop at what he judged to be the right distance, and laid down on the forest floor. Reaching over his back, he pulled out the sword that represented one of the last vestiges of the old world, and his former life. What Amoc hadn't told Ben was the actual reason he had taken the flank; he was going to have to stand and fight for a short time to really get the horde’s attention.
There was no shield and no jumpsuit for this fight, the former was too cumbersome for moving fast, and the suit was still too slow to put on in an emergency. Draki was also not overhead to provide him with guidance on the horde’s movements. The Gargoyle’s whereabouts were frustratingly unknown. Amoc and Ben were very much on their own for this.
Not far into the count, Amoc heard Ben’s howl as he met the leading edge of the horde. Not long after, The sound of tens of thousands of undead running through the undergrowth increased. The horde was now directly to Amoc’s south. As the count reached its conclusion, Amoc readied himself.
The last number went through his head, and Amoc leapt up into a sprint.
He reached the horde in seconds, and plowed headlong into it, sending corpses in every direction. Turning to begin moving north, Amoc swept his sword in a wide arc, separating heads from bodies, and causing havoc inside the stream of bodies flowing past him. He turned again to face the horde and was met by a mass of undead that had peeled off towards him. They were bringing a steady stream of others with them. Amoc backed away and kept cleaving undead into pieces as more and more bodies turned towards him. The beast was now rising to meet them.
Don’t get greedy. You just need to spread the horde out, not split them in half.
Seconds seemed like minutes as Amoc gathered undead around him in a fighting retreat. Amoc kept the sword moving in a circle, focusing on maintaining a space around him as best he could. It wasn’t long before the undead were getting through his guard, biting and clawing, and the smell of his own blood enraged the beast. The time had come.
Amoc turned north and bowled his way through the mass of undead that had begun to crush him, resuming the chase. The pain of wounds closing hit him in that moment, but Amoc pushed through it. Sparing a glance back, he had managed to pull a significant mass of bodies with him, but the rest were going in Ben’s direction.
This is going to work.
Undead didn’t tire, but they also weren’t as fast as a Garou at full sprint. Amoc carefully measured his pace to not get too far ahead, much as he had done for Maggie in New York City. He could feel Ben’s presence to the west, slowly turning north. That turn was slower than Amoc would have liked; he was opening a lot of distance between them, but he was turning them.
This will work.
Time became hard to figure after that. Every minute felt like an hour. At a steady run, Amoc guessed he could make it to the Potomac in an hour, maybe less. Measuring his pace to match the horde was going to make it longer, but it would be easier to sustain. Ben’s presence continued to turn north until Amoc was certain they were both going the same direction.
The forest gave way to open fields and farmland. Turning his head for another look behind, Amoc saw a wall of undead stretched out in either direction. Ben was somewhere to his right, though the small hills made it impossible to spot him. Those hills reminded Amoc that there was a significant elevation drop leading up to the river, and that it was heavily wooded.
Which works in our favor. The undead won’t see the water coming, and its own mass will keep them hurtling down that hill. The crush will push them into the river.
As the minutes continued to go by, Amoc felt Ben close the gap to a constant distance. He was doing exactly what Amoc had taught him. The horde was spread out wide behind them. Some streams and creeks went by, but they only temporarily slowed the horde. The only thing left to do was maintain the pace, and hope they both had judged their distances and timings correctly.
Or at least good enough. This isn’t exactly precision work.
Time continued to pass, and Amoc found himself noting the landscape as he ran, the fields overgrown, long dead crops having become compost for wild grasses and flowers. The houses too were being reclaimed by nature. The realization stirred a feeling deep inside him, something primal. The feeling said: this is how it should be. The march of humanity brought to a halt so the world could recover. The beast relished the feeling, and Amoc found he had a hard time tempering it.
Was that it? Was that what began all of this? Some reaction to the decline we found ourselves on? There were definitely those among us that believed we never should have changed the old ways, when the role of Hunter was one of rampage and not precision. They never could have wanted this, though. They never could have wanted us all facing extinction. Could they?
The thoughts on why the apocalypse happened came to a halt as Amoc realized he was entering a forested area again. More time had passed than it seemed, and the descent into the river was only moments away. Ben was still maintaining pace and distance, and the horde was still at their backs. Amoc focused on avoiding trees, and slightly picked up his pace in the hope the horde would also pick up speed down the descent.
The ground began to slope down, and the horde did indeed gain speed. Ben had either felt Amoc’s increased pace or had also made the same decision, and was also picking up speed. In either case, the undead were moving faster. Amoc could hear some crashing sounds behind him as some likely fell or hit trees. It was unavoidable at the speed they were going, and Amoc was having to focus quite hard on not doing the same.
The rushing water of rapids could now be heard, and Amoc was mildly relieved that his sense of direction hadn’t betrayed him. He paused for just a moment to let the horde close in. Amoc let out a howl, and went into a full sprint hoping Ben would take the cue to do the same.
Reaching the water’s edge, Amoc exploded out of the trees, putting as much strength as he could into a jump.
Amoc came down in an angry river. The Potmac was running high, and as he surfaced he couldn’t see the rocks. The current was also very strong. Amoc also couldn’t see where Ben had gone in, and it was impossible to hear anything over the sound of raging water. He began swimming upstream as hard as he could.
This was the part Amoc feared the most. A Garou’s healing ability held no sway over drowning, and there were few places less wise to go for a swim in than a raging river with hidden rocks. Amoc’s lungs burned as he fought the current. It was hard to tell if he was making any progress, but anything would be better than the undead would manage. He just had to keep it up for a minute or two before turning towards land.
Amoc turned back towards the shore at what felt like the right time, though he wouldn’t have been able to keep it up much longer anyway. By some small miracle he managed to avoid any rocks; that or the river was so high that he was above them.
Amoc found the shore, and scrambled up a small, tree-lined embankment. Momentarily looking to either side, he saw no undead. It was all he could manage before collapsing on the undergrowth as a soggy, heaving mess. Amoc absently reached over his shoulder to find the sword still present on his back.
I’m going to have to remember to thank Simon for this scabbard.
After a few moments to regain his breath, Amoc stood up and reached out to sense where Ben had wound up. He found the Garou’s impression after a few moments, the feeling flooding him with relief, though Ben was much further up river than he had expected.
Ben’s a hell of a lot of Garou, so I guess that’s not too shocking.
The thought had barely entered his head when Amoc found himself being flung forward. A massive weight had struck him from behind, and there was a tearing sensation in his shoulder. Movement came without thought, and Amoc rolled with the hit. His attacker was thrown clear, and the tearing sensation went away. Amoc found the sword in his hand, and the massive figure of an undead Garou directly in front of him. And three others behind it. All were badly burned.
The slain Fenris Garou.
It was the only thought Amoc permitted himself before he flung himself at the nearest one. There was no running from them, and there could be no hesitation in what he now had to do.
The first undead Garou lunged forward to meet him, and Amoc sidestepped it while bringing the sword up for a strike at neck level. The head separated cleanly from the shoulders as it went by. Amoc spun with the movement, and ran his sword through the chest of the second undead Garou making a lunge at him. He had been trying for a higher strike, but it had been on him before he could bring the blade up high. Even without landing it where he had intended, such a strike would have disabled a living Garou, but it did little to slow this one as it bit and clawed at Amoc, leaving bright red lacerations on his arms.
Amoc barely caught the movement coming from his right in time, and pulled the sword out of the second undead Garou, spinning to dodge the third animated corpse just in time. He continued the movement and again brought the sword up to neck level on the second corpse, again separating head from body.
They’re attacking me like animals. Like a pack of wolves.
There was barely time for the thought as he was slammed in the back by what had to be the fourth undead Garou. He crashed to the ground with the corpse’s claws tearing chunks out of his side, and its maw clamped hard around his shoulder, dangerously close to his neck. Sprawled out, it was impossible to bring the sword around in any effective attack, so Amoc released his grip on it and reached for the jaws of the corpse pinning him down. He hooked his thumbs under the upper jaw, digging claws into the roof of its mouth, and began pushing up.
Fuck this is going to hurt.
With all the force he could muster, he pushed up, the undead Garou’s lower jaw hitting its limit on the bones of his shoulder. Amoc’s flesh tore as he continued to push upwards, the corpse’s jaws giving way with a loud crack as he split its skull in two. The weight fell limp on his back. Amoc got to his knees, throwing the corpse off and making a move for where the sword lay on the ground. The scent of his own blood was strong, and the pain was getting hard to ignore. He needed to kill the last one now.
He never had a chance. The third Garou slammed into his side, biting and clawing as they tumbled over the forest floor. As they came to a stop, Amoc made an attempt at forcing them upright.
That’s when the other four slain Fenris Garou pounced on him.
They dragged him back to the ground. The biting and clawing were constant. One got a hold of his neck in its mouth. Amoc could feel himself losing consciousness as his airway was closed off. He couldn’t move, every limb being held by claws or teeth.
This is where I die.
Amoc suddenly gasped a ragged, bloody breath as the corpse holding his throat was violently removed from its grasp. Amoc couldn’t see what had happened, his vision was covered in blood and dirt, but a crashing sound signaled the undead Garou had been flung away with great force.
Ben! Fuck! They’ll kill him if I don’t do something.
Amoc took advantage of the hesitation in the other corpses to free an arm, and dug his claws into the skull of one of the undead Garou. With a strength he didn’t think he still had left, Amoc found his claws driving into its skull like drills. It went limp as bone gave way. He again tried to force his way up
One of the three remaining undead Garou suddenly yanked at his other arm, and any ground Amoc had gained on moving to a standing position was lost as he was thrown off balance, finding himself back on the forest floor. Amoc’s only remaining hope was that he had given Ben enough of a fighting chance, and he accepted that Death had finally earned him.
But Death didn’t come.
Another crash was heard, and the sound of tearing flesh. It happened twice more, and then the forest was quiet, the weight on his body gone.
Amoc rolled to his side and coughed up the blood that had been gathering in his throat. His breath was ragged, and his limbs failed him when he tried to stand. Organized thought was difficult, and he struggled to focus. Pain was now making itself impossible to ignore.
No further attacks came. Amoc blinked several times in an attempt to clear his vision. He realized he was suddenly feeling Ben’s presence fast approaching.
“Amoc!” Ben yelled, more distant than he had expected.
That distance didn’t make sense. Amoc tried to respond, but all he could manage was a weak croak. His throat was too damaged, but Ben had to be able to feel his distress.
Amoc then realized that Ben was not the closest impression he could feel. There was another, and he had felt it before. Turning his head, Amoc saw the imposing form of a golden-scaled dragon, its yellow slitted eyes not unlike Draki’s as it regarded him. A ridiculous thought was the first to enter Amoc’s mind: it was not as big as he had expected. Then something more rational came to him:
It was the dragon that pulled the undead off me!
The realization crashed through Amoc’s head as the dragon’s head suddenly turned to look into the forest, a crashing sound signaling Ben’s arrival. Ben came to an abrupt halt on seeing the massive serpent, and his eyes darted over to Amoc and the Garou corpses. The dragon took a step back, away from Amoc.
Amoc tried to say ‘wait’, but again it came out as a croak. With the one arm he could move, he held up a clawed hand.
Healing sure was taking its sweet time.
Belatedly, Amoc realized Ben was changing forms back to a human. He stood there naked, holding his hands up in front of the dragon.
“I don’t mean any harm.” Ben began, and pointed to Amoc. “I don’t know what happened before, but he’s my friend. We’re not like the others. I think you know that.”
The dragon took another step back. It seemed to understand. Ben took that as his cue and rushed over to Amoc.
Amoc suddenly took in a sharp breath as his body began regenerating damaged flesh. A fresh fountain of blood came out of his throat as he turned to cough.
“Shit you’re a mess.” Ben observed, eyes darting between him and the dragon. “It was them, right? The Fenris Garou it killed?”
Amoc managed a nod through the intense pain.
“I was running as hard as I could, but I got turned around in the river, came out a lot further down than I thought.” Ben rambled.
“It’s okay.” Amoc finally managed to get some words out.
Ben looked again at the dragon. It remained where it was, intently watching their interaction unfold. Like Ari had watched Amoc and Simon.
“If it hadn’t been here…” Ben began, but Amoc cut him off.
“Ben, it’s okay.” Amoc repeated.
Ben’s taking my current state a bit hard, but it’s not his fault.
“I’m going to need a minute.” Amoc croaked out.
“You’re going to need more than a minute.” Ben said, looking Amoc over. “You’re missing half the muscle on your right arm, your legs too.”
Well that explains why I can’t move.
Ben turned to look at the dragon again.
“I don’t know if you can understand me, but my friend here needs time to heal. He says you saved him. Thank you for that.”
The dragon was even more difficult to read than Draki. It was hard to tell what it understood and what it didn’t.
One of the undead Garou suddenly moved and began to prop itself up.
“Shit!” Ben exclaimed.
The dragon moved faster than Amoc thought should be possible for something its size. It came down on the undead Garou with force, crushing it into the ground.
“Remove the head!” Ben shouted to the dragon, while making a slashing gesture across his own throat.
The dragon looked at Ben, and then back to the undead Garou under its foot. Giving it some room to move, the dragon opened its maw and bit down on the corpse’s head. The corpse fell limp. The dragon removed its foot from the corpse, and Amoc swore he could see the realization happen. Ben had just taught it how to kill undead. The dragon immediately confirmed this as it methodically went to the other corpses, making sure all of their skulls were crushed.
“I think it gets it.” Amoc observed, his voice finally starting to come back.
It was impossible to say what the dragon’s reasons for saving him were, but it had understood Ben. It was smart, it was probably sentient, and it had saved him. It was also impossible to say what had driven it to kill these Garou the first time, but Amoc cautiously hoped it had also understood Ben when he had asserted they were different.
“Yeah.” Ben replied, obviously in awe of what had just happened.
“What about the horde?” Amoc asked Ben.
“I don’t know.” Ben replied. “I couldn’t see, I was too far upriver.”
“Give me a bit and we’ll check.” Amoc stated.
“You’re going to be completely drained when you’ve healed from this.” Ben shot back. “And I’m not leaving you. The others can check once I get you back to Mt. Weather. Whatever happened to the horde, they won’t be back before us.”
Ben really does care more about people than fighting. How did we blind ourselves so badly to those like him?
“Very well.” Amoc conceded.
The dragon had finished its rounds and was looking at them again.
“Think you can get it to come with us?” Amoc asked.
Ben looked at the dragon, and back to Amoc.
“I’ll give it a try.”
The approaching LAV was a welcome sight. Ben had shifted back to war form and had helped Amoc get to the nearest road while his body continued healing. Ben was correct that Amoc was fast running out of energy. He didn’t want to risk a change back to human form until he was sure they could make it back to Mt. Weather, because he wasn’t sure he was going to be capable of another change any time soon. The LAV was a reassurance that they would, in fact, make it back.
As the armored vehicle came to a stop, Amoc had already identified its occupants. Simon, of course, was the first out the rear hatch. He was a mess of emotions in the Veil, and Amoc had an idea why.
“You asshole!” Simon exclaimed as he walked over to stand in front of Amoc, craning his head up to look him in the eyes. “I felt you give up! And then you went too quiet for me to read. I thought you died!”
Simon attempted to reinforce his point by punching Amoc in the stomach. A choice he immediately regretted, pulling his fist back and shaking it and grimacing. Simon then surprised him by wrapping his arms around Amoc’s waist in an attempt at a bear hug. Simon’s head didn’t even reach Amoc’s chest in war form.
“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again!” Simon’s muffled exclamation came from Amoc’s midsection, the raw emotion in his voice.
Amoc had never seen Simon like this before. It had been clear for some time that Simon cared for him, but Amoc wondered if he had misread how deep that affection went.
And Simon can sense the Veil now. Plus he’s right; you surrendered yourself to Death for a moment. The impression someone on that precipice leaves in the Veil… it’s something you never forget. Especially if it’s someone you care about. If it had been Simon in my place, and me on the other end… No. I don’t even want to think about that.
Amoc gently returned the hug, and they stood there without words for a few moments.
“Fuck…” Simon swore again as he backed away, quickly wiping at his eyes. “We need to get moving. How did you…”
Simon’s words trailed off as Amoc felt and heard the presence emerging from the trees behind him.
“Holy…” Simon exclaimed as he saw what it was.
“Simon, meet the dragon.” Amoc began. “It saved me. And Ben has an understanding with it.”
The dragon stepped out into the late morning light, and all eyes were on it. Amoc could see Marcus and Maggie in the LAV’s upper hatches, eyes wide.
The moment didn’t last very long. The crew of the LAV all put hands up to their headsets simultaneously; apparently something was coming in. Simon looked back up at Amoc after a moment.
“Some of the horde broke off and are heading to Mt. Weather.” Simon explained, looking back over to the dragon, obviously torn on what to do next. “Fucking undead, always ruining the moment.”
One more round with the undead. I’ve got that left in me, right?
“Oh no you don’t.” Simon had obviously sensed Amoc’s shift in mood. “You are in no condition to fight based on what I’m getting off you. Ben’s no better. You want to help? You two change back into human form, put on the clothes I brought in the LAV, and then man the LMG’s.”
Ben looked at Amoc. Amoc shrugged.
“He’s right.” Amoc conceded.
“You can tell me about what happened on the way.” Simon continued, then looked back to the dragon again. “Think you can get it to help?”
“It knows how to kill undead now, thanks to Ben.” Amoc offered.
“An undead-slaying dragon is exactly the kind of metal fantasy come to life we need right now.” Simon concluded.
Amoc imagined it was the kind of thing someone would have painted on the side of a van. It didn’t get much more metal than this.
“Sam and Trole got cut up pretty badly, but they’ll survive.” Sadie began the after action report. “The fenceline I’m not so sure about. And then there’s corpses absolutely everywhere. What a shitshow. Would have been a lot worse if your new friend hadn’t come in when it did. I guess now we know the undead really hate fire, even if it doesn’t kill them right away.”
“That about sums it up, yeah.” Greg added.
The compound was a disaster. Sadie wasn’t joking about the fenceline. Amoc wondered if there was even any point to repairing it. The undead had crashed through it after only a minute or two, even with their recent reinforcements. Amoc had arrived in the LAV, but their new ally in the dragon had gone ahead when it had become apparent the compound was already under attack.
“That was like something out of a fantasy story, when it came swooping down breathing out a line of fire.” John retold the moment. “Not going to forget that as long as I live.”
They had gotten through the attack without casualties. But Amoc knew it was still a pyrrhic victory.
“We can’t do this again.” Amoc began. “Even with our new ally.”
“I’m with Amoc on this one, we need a new plan, but I don’t know what that is yet.” Greg admitted.
They all stood there for a moment, realizing their situation was just as precarious as it had been yesterday.
“Has anyone seen Draki?” Amoc asked, realizing the Gargoyle still wasn’t anywhere to be found.
“Watch commander said a camera picked him up taking off to the north.” Greg informed Amoc. “Didn’t say anything to anyone that we know of. Just left. Was hoping you might know.”
What the hell? What is Draki doing?
“No idea.” Amoc shook his head. “I hope he’s got a good reason. I could have used his help this morning.”
“What happened up there anyway?” Greg asked. “Ben said you nearly died.”
“I found the Fenris Garou the dragon killed.” Amoc stated. “Or more accurately, they found me.”
“Shit fire!” John exclaimed. “I know not finding them wasn’t sitting right with you. Guess we know, now. You got them all?”
“Killed three before they dragged him down.” Ben spoke up. “Got a fourth after the dragon gave him some room, and it got the rest. I couldn’t get there in time, I just… if it hadn’t been there for Amoc…”
“Ben.” Amoc interjected. “It was not your fault. You did exactly what I told you to, how I told you to do it. Neither of us knew. Better they found me than you.”
“Yeah…” Ben conceded.
“Amoc’s right, Ben.” Sadie added. “You did good. You bought us the time we needed to get back here and defend Mt. Weather.”
“Thanks.” Ben accepted the compliment.
“We saved a lot of people today.” Amoc offered. “How many Garou can say that?”
“Not many.” Sadie quickly responded. “And half of them are in this room.”
“I’m glad to have all of you.” John added. “We wouldn’t be here without you. I’m grateful, and hope we can keep this going.”
“Speaking of, we’ve got a hell of a lot of cleanup to do.” Greg brought everyone back to the tasks at hand, then pointed at Amoc and Ben. “You two are off duty. Get some food in your systems, build those reserves back up.”
“Yes, sir.” Ben replied as Amoc simply nodded.
They had worked a miracle today, and had saved a lot of lives, but Greg was right. They were in a very vulnerable state right now, and needed to be ready for whatever came next.
“Draki’s been spotted!” Simon said as he burst into Amoc’s room. “He’s on foot, and he’s got someone with him. Coming up the hill from the north.”
Amoc closed his eyes and focused his attention to the north. The impression was there. In fact, there were two impressions. Whoever was with Draki was also not human.
“What are you getting?” Simon asked, guessing at what Amoc was doing.
“Not human, the someone with him.” Amoc replied.
“Well that’s unexpected.”
“This come from Greg?” Amoc asked.
“Yeah, said this was ours to handle, Draki being one of us.”
“Then we better get moving.”
“Right behind you.” Simon fell in as Amoc moved to exit his room.
Entering the hallway of the housing unit, it was now quite a lot busier than it had been. All the housing units were full now. This one was largely occupied by Mt. Weather’s original inhabitants, as John had suggested it was probably not the best idea to house the Fenris humans with them. They moved at a brisk pace out the front door, a few eyes taking note of their rush, and then went up the steps to the main entrance.
The compound had been cleaned up over the past day, but it was still a mess. The fenceline had been assessed as repairable, but it was never going to be able to stop another large horde. The bunker was now their last and only line of defense, and they just had to hope no hordes came along any time soon. Any horde that was large enough to overwhelm the eight Garou and one dragon that were responsible for eliminating them would probably be their last.
Their new dragon ally proved to be intelligent and willing to help, but it was clearly as ‘young’ and inexperienced as Ari. The Fenris Garou were still wary of it, and rightfully so, given it had killed eight of their own and seemed no worse off for it. That kind of power and inexperience were a dangerous combination.
Not unlike a Garou after their first change, really. Something Sam’s quite familiar with, so he’s taken it on as a new neophyte. I wish him luck.
“Shotgun.” Simon stated as they approached one of the Humvees parked near the entrance.
Amoc shrugged and took the driver’s seat while Simon got in on the passenger side. Flipping the ignition toggle over to ‘start’, Amoc cranked the engine over and the Humvee clattered to life. He put the vehicle into gear, and headed for the gate, stopping only for a moment to let the watch know they were on their way to intercept Draki.
Amoc could feel both Draki and the other person more clearly now, being away from the mass of people in Mt. Weather. They were on the main road to Mt. Weather.
Which means they’re probably getting a good look at the mess we left on the north side right now.
Amoc slowed as they got closer, and after cresting a hill, the distinctive form of Draki came into view, accompanied by another figure. Amoc noticed Simon leaning forward in the passenger seat.
“Martine?” Simon asked, and Amoc remembered the name.
“That Martine from your traveling?” Amoc asked in return.
“Yeah… yeah I’m pretty sure that’s Martine.” Simon confirmed.
Amoc checked his senses again. The impression reaffirmed Simon’s recognition: this person was a Witch.
Maybe that miracle we need is going to be possible after all.
Amoc came to a stop in front of Draki and shut the Humvee off. He stepped out with Simon, and closed the distance to the waiting pair.
“You could have told me.” Amoc began. “We’ve been a little busy, as you can see.”
Amoc pointed over to an obviously burned section of forest.
“The dragon?” Draki asked.
Draki doesn’t know.
“Yes, but… well, it’s a bit more complicated than that.” Amoc explained.
“I’m truly sorry.” Draki apologized. “But this was too important. This is…”
“Matine.” Simon cut Draki off.
“You have me at a loss, I’m afraid.” Martine stated. “Draki I know quite well, but I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting his friends before now.”
“That’s… also complicated.” Amoc realized he had a lot of explaining ahead of him.
“Indeed.” Martine replied. “Miriam told me there’s a Traveler involved in all of this. She’ll be here tomorrow. She told me Simon was the Traveler's name, and he calls a Garou named Amoc his friend. This is all immensely fascinating. I sense a Garou in this handsome figure in front of me, would I be correct in assuming you are Amoc?”
“I am.” Amoc confirmed. “And this is Simon.”
“I was told Simon was human, but that’s not what I’m sensing.”
“I was, but… well that’s also…” Simon was cut off by Martine.
“Complicated.” Martine finished Simon’s sentence. “I’m definitely sensing a pattern here. Hopefully one I may be able to help you sort out. With the help of my sisters. Miriam will be here tomorrow, and while we haven’t been able to reach Meredith directly, we have a plan to find her.”
This is really happening. We’re going to be able to protect Mt. Weather after all!
“That’s amazing!” Amoc exclaimed, before turning to Draki. “Just, next time… never mind. Let’s get back to Mt. Weather so we can figure all of this out.”
I was going to say ‘just ask’, but if I had gone with Draki to escort Martine, what would have happened at Mt. Weather? These things happen for a reason.
“Lead on.” Martine stated.
They all piled into the Humvee and Amoc took them back to the compound.
As promised, Miriam showed up the next day. It took quite a while to bring Martine up to speed on everything that had happened both before and after what they were now calling ‘the great rebalancing’. The name was going to need some work, but it was the best description they had of what happened when Simon came back from the other world. A surge of living energy had come into their world, and had begun pushing back against death.
“I can’t say it entirely lines up with my theories, but that’s why they’re theories.” Martine was saying. “The truth rarely has the courtesy to perfectly match up with what you wish to be true.”
“But you did think it possible to send such energy to another world, using that very same power to do so.” Miriam added.
“Yes, but the cost to do so was always too great.” Martine replied. “Both in the lives it would cost, and the chaos it would cause for the balance. Possible, but far too dangerous for all involved. Unless… unless a very specific set of circumstances were to align.”
“And we are now living in a world that found itself aligned to those circumstances.” Miriam finished Martine’s thought.
This had been a theme of the conversation so far. Amoc had never seen a coven work before, but had heard stories of how the sisters tended to share a mind on all things. Finishing each other’s sentences, thoughts, and plans was part of what made them so dangerous and powerful. It was a bit terrifying, but Amoc reminded himself the Virginia Coven was planning this to help them.
Well, two of its members were, at least.
“Indeed.” Martine conceded. “And so we have no choice but to act. For the balance. For our very lives. For everyone’s lives. As Amoc says, we must defend all the living in this world, or there will soon be no living in this world.”
It was also rather terrifying to hear a Witch agreeing with him. Again.
“So are you ready to call her?” Miriam asked.
“She’s not going to like it.” Martine replied. “But after all I’ve heard and seen here, I agree it needs to be done.”
“Sorry, what’s happening now?” Simon asked, confused. “Why can’t you just… project yourselves, like you did to Amoc.”
“Meredith doesn’t wish to be contacted.” Miriam explained. “We can guess why.”
“Very likely the same reason we had been reluctant to help until now.” Martine added. “Meredith was always the most… recalcitrant, of the three of us.”
“That’s one word for it.” Miriam followed, in their usual way of continuing each other’s thoughts. “But once she sees what we’ve seen, and what’s at stake, she’ll come around.”
“So you can do this?” Simon asked. “You can create another version of the Albany bubble.”
“Oh yes.” Martine confirmed. “Miriam told me about what she discovered, and what went wrong. We have the benefit of that knowledge to guide the ritual this time.”
“They were rushed.” Miriam continued. “As I first suspected. What they didn’t realize is that such a feat would require stepping beyond the Veil. Doing so is quite obviously extremely dangerous, and should never be attempted without ample planning.”
“Which we have the benefit of this time.” Martine finished the thought again. “It will work this time. The Veil will not be left so close as it was in Albany.”
“So when can we get started?” Simon asked the question of the hour.
“Today.” Miriam replied. “With the calling of our reluctant sister. Once she is here, we start planning the protection ritual immediately.”
This is really going to happen.
“We should tell them the rest of it now.” Martine cryptically said to Miriam.
All eyes went to Miriam.
“The coven of New York misjudged their ritual, and while I never found them, I know they are not gone.” Miriam began. “They are lost in the Veil. When we complete the ritual by going beyond the Veil… we will not come back. Not immediately… or possibly any time soon. Time inside the Veil does not adhere to the rules of this reality. We don’t know how much time will pass on this side while we attempt to find them and bring them back.”
“So this may be a one way trip for you.” Amoc said what Martine and Miriam were dancing around.
“Yes.” Martine confirmed. “But we will not go until we are sure the ritual will be successful. You have our word on that. The protection of the living is more important now than finding our lost sisters… but if we succeed, then we must try. I know you understand.”
“I do.” Amoc most certainly understood. “Thank you. For everything.”
Amoc remembered his first conversation with Miriam back in Albany. The ritual of trade. Amoc turned to look at Miriam.
“I think this will settle our balance for good.” Amoc added.
Miriam’s somber expression changed to a smile of genuine joy. She stood up from where she had been sitting and bowed before Amoc in the gesture concluding a balanced trade. In all his dealings with Witches, Amoc had never been on the receiving end of that gesture; he had only ever been the one giving it. Amoc almost forgot to give the reciprocal gesture.
“Thank you, Amoc.” Miriam concluded. “For reminding me… reminding us how to live again. And for giving the living a fighting chance.”