ONE AGAINST THE PACK

CHAPTER FOUR : The Chase

‘There’s another of them,’ Damian said but his voice came out a little louder than intended.

Leo pressed Damian’s shoulders softly, trying to make him understand that he needn’t say anything, because he, Leo, understood. Damian hadn’t discovered the just- occurring mindreading connection between them. If they would survive any potential attack, they needed to communicate quickly, even before their foes noticed. Leo turned his eyes to the unending forest behind them. Which direction was safest to flee to? And how fast could their legs carry them in contrast to the swift beasts?

Leo was yellow with fear when it dawned on him how bleak their plight was.

The new wolf was grunting at the others as though angry and, after a while, one of the first three (the biggest of them) seemed to confront the new angry wolf, standing nose to nose to him. They appeared to be communicating in some grunting sort of way which the boys couldn’t decode. Then as the new wolf turned away from the rest and set eyes on the tree behind which they hid, a spidery wave of terror crawled up the skins of the boys: the wolf was coming towards their tree. It had picked up their scent.

‘Leo?’ Damian whispered.

Stay quiet, Damian!

* * *

‘Do you smell anything, Elon?’ Parco asked, forcing his ears not to twitch up in the excitement. The possibility that the kids were hiding in the bush was getting realer. His own sense of smell, however, was still clogged up with Stella’s blood. So, once again, he—they all—depended on Elon for the next kill. If there were witnesses, they must not be alive.

Elon ignored his question and took another step towards the tree. The scent got stronger. He dived behind the tree and was met with nothingness. No one was there, but the scent of a human—two humans—became nearer still. Then his eyes caught movement. He saw them—two boys—leaping running down a steep hill. Elon went after them, followed hotly by the other werewolves.

Elon’s ears were erect with hunger and nearness to food. Saliva flew from his open mouth as he saw the tanned skin of the boys’ neck as they ran deeper into the forest in the evening light. The boys were surprisingly fast but would be no match for them. Elon made sure none of the wolves could reach them before he did. And when Slick, who was the swiftest of them all, tried to overtake him, he growled and gave him a vicious nudge. Slick staggered, picked himself up and came back on track.

The boys ran on, barefooted, flying over dead logs and thorny bushes, docking and sliding beneath overhanging trees that were uprooted by the wind or lightning. They skipped over the pebbles and stones that flanked the little river bodies.

The wolves, quicker in their running, and in getting back to their feet if they stumbled, were catching up with them. The sounds of their panting and growling and howling were the soundtrack of that horrid evening. Leo turned, and to his surprise, more wolves were emerging from the nearby bushes. He had no idea where they came from.

Damian stumbled over a slippery slope and Leo picked him up by the arm, lugging him onwards. But this narrowed the distance a great deal. One of wolves dived and Leo, with a strange quick reflex, swung his left arm at it. His fist caught the animal on the jaw. It yelped in surprise and slowed a little. The other wolves made excited sounds, firing on.

Leo’s hand was anchored under his brother’s arm. Go, go, go, Damian!

Infuriated by the counterattack, the wolf lunged again. His claws caught Damian by the shoulder and drew four long lines down his back, shredding his clothes. The boy howled into the evening and almost fell from Leo’s grip. Damian kept screaming and crying, ‘My back.’ Leo did not let him go. Once, one of the wolves came dangerously closer and Leo dealt it a powerful uppercut that sent a tooth flying out of its jaws. His strength was new and incredible. The werewolves marvelled at this. All, except one of them, their leader. He knew why the boy was so strong. But strength didn’t mean invincibility.

And soon, the boys started to falter and fall apart. Their speed was no more than a normal athletic schoolboy’s. The road split into two and Damian broke away from his brother and took a different direction. The wolves went after Damian. All the wolves, expect Parco, who ran headlong after the older boy, the heir. Leo was so accelerated that he had run about fifty metres before he could stop and register horror at the separation.

Stopping was a mistake, he realized, but it was too late. In the air, limbs extended and claws ready was the alpha male and the strongest of the pack. Leo’s quick reflex couldn’t save him now. He stood very still as he watched his death come up on him. But at the moment of impact, there was a quick surge of strength from Leo’s muscles. He struck and knocked the wolf down. The beast’s head hit a tree trunk and it lay there, panting its amazement. Parco staggered back up and sized Leo up. Leo looked straight into the beast’s dark eyes and thought he saw a glimpse of familiarity in them. It growled at him, baring finger- long fangs. Was it trying to tell him something?

Leo clenched his fists. In the distance, behind a fallen log he saw Damian on the ground, arms sprawled and surrounded by about ten of the new and old werewolves. Their eyes met and Leo heard Damian think to him: Leave me, save yourself. Leo saw the eyes of their dead mother in Damain’s, saw the last look and plea to run and save himself.

Leo was torn between keeping an eye on the sly wolf that now circled him. If he was swift enough, he could escape this one. But he couldn’t leave his brother. So he braced his feet and poised his undeveloped teenage arms.

I fight.

More of the beasts began now to appear from nowhere and surrounded him. Where were these demons coming from? he wondered. He struggled to keep his courage intact, to look the animals in the eye and not waver. They seemed to be taking their time, or were waiting for a signal from their leader. The signal came.

Leo took in a sharp breath when one of them lunged at him. He grabbed it by the ears and sunk his thumbs into its eyes. Leo let go of it. The unsuspecting werewolf howled and staggered back. Dark blood trickled down his eyes. Leo’s fingers and palms were full of it. The other new wolves were hesitant for a while before another dived. Leo sidestepped and jumped on its back, going again for the ears and eyes.

He wasn’t lucky this time.

Two other werewolves jumped onto his back and knocked him off to the ground. His head hit a tree and a feeling of déjà vu rather than pain engulfed him and made him dizzy. His shirt was torn in pieces now and his sides bled. The beasts approached and besieged him. He began to shuffle backwards on his seats. It was a painful move for his buttocks were red from bruises and slashes. His eyes fell on his brother but he couldn’t see him anymore. The leaves, the approaching darkness and the wolves veiled him.

If only I can save him this last time, he thought.

And as though, triggered by that thought, a grey fog of whooshed past the wolves’ eyes faces and knocked them all to the ground. The others staggered back in fright but the leader remained unmoved. Apparently, he knew who the intruder was.

Wasting no time, the fog (which only appeared like a fog to Leo because of its Godspeed) grabbed Leo and sprinted off. In the next moment, they were at the top of a low hill, some distance away from the wolves which now approached them in a slow and sly advance.

The fog materialized into a human with overflowing cloak and a long sheathed sword. He turned and gave Leo a knowing look. Uncle Marcus! The only other relative he knew. How did he know they were in danger, and the fog...?

‘I must get you out of here, Leonard,’ he said, holding his shoulders.

Leo frowned. ‘My brother is still down there.’

Marcus’s eyes grew sad under the narrow-brimmed hat. ‘They have him, Leo. There’s nothing we can do about it now.’

‘But he is alive!’

The middle- aged wolf hunter cast a doleful glance down the hill at the pack of ravenous beasts and turned back to Leo, shaking his head.

‘He is not.’

‘I feel it, we have to save him!’

Marcus grabbed his shoulders again, looking earnestly into his animated eyes. ‘Leonard, listen to me. There is no time for this; if they attack us now, they’re too many for me—‘

The werewolves, who appeared to just be downhill, waiting silently, were really not waiting. Parco, being a very tricky warrior, kept eye contact with the two humans uphill, giving the impression of waiting. But as Marcus argued with the dogged teenager, Parco gave signals and two of the sneakiest werewolves crept up behind Marcus and Leo. They lurked behind a tree and a large stone. But they didn’t strike immediately; each of them knew Marcus and his keen ability to be so insanely swift and deadly. So they waited for the perfect distraction.

And it came: there was a loud cry from Damian. Marcus and Leo turned sharply towards the direction. Taking this opportunity, the lurking werewolves leapt. Marcus was struck down and the wolf upon him. He was able to draw a dagger from his boots and buried it between its legs. The wolf howled and rolled off the hill, bleeding profusely. Leo was not as lucky. His scream filled Marcus with terror and when he found him being dragged by the leg by the wolf down the other side of the hill, he drew his sword. It was a double edged sword made of pure silver, the only element that could kill werewolves. He ran after Leo and the wolf dragging him on.

The lupine was caught unawares. There appeared a sudden gash on the back of his head and he fell in death, dropping Leo. This triggered the rest of the pack and, like soldier ants towards an anthill, over a score of these vicious creatures throng up the hill and lunged at Marcus.

Marcus struck, ducked and punched, all the while shielding the wounded Leo. He moved among the pack with an incredible speed, so that the ‘slower’ wolves were caught unawares by the silver blade. But the quicker ones succeeded in giving Marcus cuts and bites that left him staggered.

The number of these quicker ones seemed to increase by the seconds. His defence of Leo was becoming more porous. His courage was fluctuating, too.

Then he saw the reason behind their sudden strength and speed: perched on the evening sky, a pale full moon was surfacing. He realized he had no chances any longer; the wolves would get incredibly powerful.

He shifted closer to Leo’s side and drew a pistol. He fired silver bullets and killed more of them. This startled the rest and they retreated a little, only to return, this time joined by Parco, their alpha male and Marcus’ greatest primal enemy.

Marcus was too weakened—and duty bound to get Leo out of there—to face Parco. So, pulling Leo by the arm he fled among the bushes towards a cliff nearby. Without looking back he leaped, down into the dark water, beside a waiting boat.