Chapter 9: Teeth at the Door

  Elias dropped through the window into the night.

  Silas turned back to the chapel. Most of the congregation had fled. A few stragglers remained. An old woman clutched a Bible. A man stared at the dead body near the altar.

  Jane stood by the broken window, staring at her revolver. Her hands shook.

  "That was..." She looked up at Silas. "That was really a—"

  "Werewolf. Yes."

  She looked back at her gun. "I shot it. Hit it. Didn't even slow down."

  The first scream cut through the night.

  Jane's head snapped toward the sound. Then another scream. Different direction. Then more, coming from all across town.

  "Jane." Silas moved to the shattered window. Orange light flickered against buildings down the street. Fires. Multiple fires.

  "Jesus Christ," Jane whispered.

  People ran past the church. A woman stumbled, clutching a child. A man limped behind her, blood streaming down his leg.

  A howl rose from the direction of Main Street. Another answered from the south. Then a third from near the edge of town.

  "Pack's here," Silas said.

  Through the smoke and firelight, he could see shapes moving between buildings. Large. Moving on four legs, then rising to two.

  Jane's breathing was getting faster. Her eyes were too wide.

  "Jane." Silas put a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me."

  She met his eyes.

  "People are dying out there," he said. "We can help them. But I need you with me. Are you with me?"

  She took a breath. Nodded. Her hands steadied.

  "Good." Silas pulled out the silver rounds Elias had given him earlier. Split them between his hands. "Load these. They'll work."

  She took half the rounds, started loading her revolver. Her fingers were steady now.

  Another building erupted in flames. The screaming intensified. Men shouting. Women crying for help. Children wailing in terror.

  "We need a rally point," Silas said. "Somewhere defensible."

  "The church?" Jane suggested.

  Silas looked at the wooden walls, the broken window, the single door. "No. Too exposed."

  "Tom's blacksmith shop," Jane said. "Stone forge. Heavy doors."

  "That'll work." Silas finished loading his rifle. "We get people there. As many as we can."

  "How do we—"

  A crash came from somewhere nearby. Then gunshots. A man's voice shouted before cutting off abruptly.

  Jane's face went pale. "Jake Morrison. That was Jake's voice."

  They moved toward the chapel door. Outside, the chaos was worse than it had appeared from the window. Flames were spreading building to building. Smoke filled the street. Bodies lay scattered in the dirt.

  "We split up," Silas said. "Cover more ground. Anyone we find, we send to Tom's shop."

  "What if—"

  "No time." Silas checked his rifle one more time. "You go south. I'll take the north side."

  Jane nodded. Her hand was steadier now. "Stay alive, Marshal."

  "You too, Deputy."

  They stepped out into the burning town.

  The heat hit Silas first. Waves of it rolling off the burning buildings. Then the smell. Smoke and blood. The screaming was constant now, coming from all directions.

  Bodies lay scattered in the street. Some clearly dead, others crawling toward whatever shelter they could find. An old man Silas didn't recognize sat propped against a hitching post, clutching a belly wound and staring at nothing.

  Near the general store, a family huddled behind an overturned wagon. The father held a pitchfork with shaking hands while his wife shielded two small children.

  A werewolf bounded around the corner of the blacksmith shop, running on all fours. It saw the family and changed course, loping toward them.

  The father stepped forward with his pitchfork.

  Silas' rifle barked once, and the creature dropped like a stone, blood spreading beneath it. "Get to Tom's shop!" he shouted to the family.

  They ran without looking back.

  The boarding house was burning. Widow Chen stood in the street, weeping.

  "Mrs. Chen!" Silas called. "Are you hurt?"

  "They came through the windows," she sobbed. "Like devils. Mr. Patterson tried to fight them, but..."

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  She pointed to where a man's body lay crumpled against the porch railing. His throat was torn open.

  "How many guests were inside?" Silas asked.

  "Three. All upstairs when it started." Widow Chen looked up at the burning building. "I don't think... I don't think they got out."

  A crash came from inside the building as part of the roof collapsed.

  "Come on," Silas said, taking the old woman's arm. "We need to get you somewhere safe."

  "Where's safe?" she asked. "They're everywhere."

  A howl rose from the direction of the blacksmith shop. It was answered by two others. One from the chapel, one from near the stable.

  "Go to Tom's shop," Silas told Widow Chen. "Find Deputy Ellis. Tell her I'm looking for more people."

  Widow Chen nodded and hurried toward the blacksmith shop.

  Silas turned back toward the chaos. More screams came from the direction of the stable.

  He ran toward it. The stable doors hung open, firelight flickering inside. Jake Morrison gripped a pitchfork.

  Three werewolves circled him.

  Silas fired. The nearest werewolf dropped. The other two spun toward him.

  "Get out of there!" Silas shouted.

  Jake scrambled past him. The werewolves charged.

  Silas shot the first one twice. It went down hard. The second one closed the distance before he could chamber another round.

  Silas swung his rifle like a club. The stock connected with the creature's skull. It staggered. He brought the rifle back up and fired. The werewolf collapsed.

  "Tom's shop," Silas told Jake. "Go. Now."

  Jake looked at him. “Bobby tried to help me but a few of them chased him off. He went east. Help him please.” He turned and ran without looking back.

  Silas ran east, searching for Bobby. Tracks in the dirt. He followed them around a corner.

  Bobby pressed against the side of a building. Two werewolves faced him. He held a broken bottle. His hands shook.

  One of the werewolves launched at Bobby. He brought his arm up. It bit down and he screamed.

  Silas ran forward, shooting the one latched onto Bobby in the leg. It released Bobby and howled.

  "Run Bobby! Get to Tom's!" Silas yelled.

  He levered another round and shot the other wolf in the chest. It dropped.

  Bobby ran. The werewolf near him lunged for him but stumbled on its injured leg.

  Silas stopped, taking aim. Wait for it. Once Bobby was clear, he shot the werewolf in the head. It fell, blood pooling beneath it.

  He stood, breathing hard. Need to circle back to the blacksmith shop. Find anyone else who needs help.

  He made it to the blacksmith shop without further incident. Jane was there, organizing the survivors around Tom's forge. People huddled near the forge. Mostly women and children, a few wounded men.

  "Thank God," Jane said when she saw him. "I was worried."

  "How many made it?" Silas asked.

  "This is it. Everyone I could find. A few other folks barricaded themselves in their own buildings, but the rest..."

  The town was burning. At least half the buildings were on fire, and the screaming had mostly stopped.

  "Where is Elias?" Jane asked.

  "Haven’t seen him." Silas checked his ammunition. Four silver bullets left. "We need to—"

  Two werewolves charged out of the smoke. The survivors screamed and scrambled back toward the blacksmith shop.

  "Get behind me!" Jane shouted, drawing her gun.

  Silas stepped forward, rifle ready. The werewolves spread out.

  The first werewolf lunged at Jane. She fired, her bullet punching through its shoulder and spinning it around. The creature screamed and staggered back.

  But it didn't go down.

  The second creature focused on Silas. It moved slowly.

  Silas fired, his bullet taking it center mass. The werewolf stumbled but kept coming. He levered another round and fired again. This shot dropped it.

  The first werewolf had shaken off Jane's shot and was advancing on the terrified civilians. Dark blood streamed from its shoulder.

  Jane fired again, this time catching it in the chest. The bullet punched deep, and the creature convulsed.

  It toppled forward, hitting the ground.

  "Everyone all right?" Silas asked.

  The survivors nodded.

  "Let's get inside," Silas said. Through the smoke, he could see shapes moving in the firelight. More werewolves, gathering for another assault.

  They hurried through the doors, barring them behind the last of the survivors.

  A howl rose from the direction of the saloon.

  Then the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood.

  Through the small windows, Silas could see movement in the street. Dark shapes had stopped their prowling and were turning toward this new disturbance.

  The howling changed. Now there were two distinct voices.

  "What's that?" Jane asked.

  Silas moved to the window, peering through the gap between wooden shutters.

  Two massive forms circled each other in the flickering firelight. One was dark like the other werewolves they'd seen. Huge, powerful, covered in coarse black fur.

  But the other...

  The other was white.

  Pure white. Smaller than the dark creature.

  It struck the dark creature across the flank, claws raking deep furrows. Dark blood sprayed across the dirt street.

  "Dear God," Tom breathed, joining Silas at the window. "What is that thing?"

  But Silas was watching more carefully than the others. The white werewolf wasn't just fighting. It was protecting. As the battle raged, he could see wounded civilians cowering behind overturned wagons and scattered barrels. The white creature kept positioning itself between them and the larger predator.

  It's defending them.

  More dark werewolves began converging on the fight.

  One of the pack members, smaller than the others with gray fur, slowed as it neared a group of terrified children who'd taken shelter behind a water trough. The white werewolf had been fighting the larger black creature but the white werewolf bounded toward the children, placing itself directly between them and the gray one.

  For a heartbeat, the two creatures faced each other. The gray werewolf whimpered. Its yellow eyes flicked between the children and the larger pack members.

  It doesn't want to hurt them.

  A massive creature with reddish fur, larger than the others, snarled at the hesitating werewolf. Its jaws snapped.

  The gray werewolf took a reluctant step toward the cowering children.

  The white one gently nudged the children toward the blacksmith shop with its muzzle. Never taking its eyes off the gray werewolf.

  The gray werewolf backed away.

  The reddish creature lunged at the retreating gray werewolf, massive jaws snapping inches from its throat. The smaller werewolf yelped and scrambled backward, then turned and fled between buildings.

  The white werewolf charged. It hit the red one. Claws tore through its throat. The creature gurgled and dropped, blood pooling beneath it.

  The remaining pack members froze.

  The white werewolf raised its head and howled.

  The remaining werewolves began to retreat toward the forest.

  The white werewolf bounded away into the shadows. In the firelight, Silas caught a glimpse of it changing. Fur receding, form shifting into a woman with dark hair.

  Seraphine?

  "We need to find Elias," Silas said. "And we need to find Seraphine."

  "Which one first?" Jane asked.

  "Elias first," he said.

  Outside, Dry Gulch burned. But they were alive.

  The real war was just beginning.