Page 69 of Shifting Years
I marched forward, not unlike a soldier. With every step, I dropped dashes of pepper, garlic, and other assorted spices.
If not for the thought of a giant armored worm, and the stench of rotting flesh, the campground might have seemed peaceful. It was late dusk, but shifter sight showed colors with subtle shades in the shadows. Behind the two log cabins was a large lake and lots of trees. Water and forest critters could sustain a worm for years.
My power is to know what people need, but not where to go. A shifter wouldn't win against a monster, but once a man did. "Henry!" I shouted. "I want you to know my real Alpha's back. Todd's here and he'll defend what's his. You don't own me. He does!"
Lies don't work around shifters. But Henry? He wasn't a wolf anymore.
"I'm coming to take my daughter away from you!"
I can hear hummingbirds in the distance, or squirrels dropping acorns on soft ground. With his weight and school bus length, I should have heard something as he approached. I flewto the side as if a VW Bug slammed into me. My inner beast screamed for me to change but he might not recognize my Other.
If I hadn't seen him transform weeks earlier, I wouldn't have recognized the twenty-foot-long 'thing' with metallic armor and clicking mandibles. They weren't random clicks and had a language pattern I couldn't understand.
"I'm here to take her away!"
Henry's circular mouth opened, his curved teeth spinning like a fan of razors. The hurricane-force wind drew me toward him. Man or wolf wouldn't survive. I'd join Doctor King and Bobby Kennedy, not because I did anything great, but because I'd die like them.
Or will I?
Tina and Dawn said I'd hear people's stories and the eighties weren't here yet.
That means I live!
I leapt low and forward, missing most of Henry's wind, while my fingers dug into grooves along his segmented, metallic back. In Venice Beach, there were musclemen so defined they couldn't scratch their backs, and it was the same here. Circular teeth bit air as his tail stopped several feet from my back as if the metal wouldn't let him curve further.
In the nighttime air, red, brown, blond, white, and black-furred wolves flew. Just as fast, they bounced back from their armored prey with a yelp or worse, no sound.
I held on for a distraction while fewer shifters returned, grabbing spots with their teeth. Henry thrashed back and forth, smashing furry flesh to the ground. He shook like a dog after abath and threw me back against a cabin with splintered wood tearing into my flesh. On the ground where humans died earlier, shifters lay and Henry's circular mouth full of teeth munched away. A few were aware of the experience. The lucky ones passed away earlier.
Something sharp and electric poked at my organs as I fought to stand. Changing into my wolf wouldn't cure the damage and I was the weakest here.Todd beat him without most of his powers. What would he do?
I couldn't wish after what happened, but I sure imagined. If anyone thought about what could be, it was me. A hell of a lot of visualization and desperation popped Todd into mental existence. He appeared in an army uniform which turned into green fatigues as he surveyed the battle. His dark green eyes were haunted somehow.
He wasn't here, just the hope of someone who wanted to save others and see his lover again. His flat palm went out in a salute, and he stood at attention. Defined chest muscles pushed out against his camo. "Your men aredying,soldier! Are you going to lay there, Private? Assess the battlefield! Shifter tacticsdo notwork, nor does overwhelming force. We have an enemy who fights a different kind of war."
Men and wolves lay on the ground while others were nothing more than chewed flesh. None had a handlebar mustache. Either our sheriff was outside my vision or already eaten.
The bayou ladies said Wyatt would have heartbreak and I hoped I didn't kill someone's father. Yet, there were dead shifters, and several would cry today for Alphas they'd never see again.
With a body-convulsing shake, I stood and spat several times on my shirt. Then I dusted it with spices. In the dark lay a baseball-sized rock. A twist-tie later created a sling with a stone inside. "I'm going after my daughter!" Off the rock with my shirt and scent flew toward the dock. Henry slithered backward, the metallic scrape of his armored body echoed through the trees. Then he inhaled, searching for me.
It bought a moment, and I breathed in fresh copper scents, along with the sickly-sweet death smell. Male faces I recognized stared back from the ground with empty eyes.
"Focus, soldier. Use your resources!" screamed Todd.
I spun and in the distance was the handlebar mustache sheriff. His arm was broken, and a white and red bone stabbed through.
For a second, I paused hearing no other wolves except for Henry sniffing with an airplane engine-level noise at the dock.
The sheriff spoke with a bloody mouthful. "G-go."
"A soldier never leaves his men!" said Todd.
"I never said I would! Give me a second, okay?" Even an imagined Todd was argumentative.
Quickly but gently, I picked up the only other survivor and ran to the truck. I could drive back and be a hero. The town would see an Omega who saved one of their own. Nobody would blame me. Hell, it was the smart thing. A group of shifters died against Henry. What could I do?
"Soldier!" screamed Todd. "Will you dosomething?"
