Apocalyptic Moon (After the Bane) (37 page)

Dora grabbed a few leaves from the oak tree. Matter to matter. She was strong, but was she strong enough? She opened her palm and helmet-shaped yellow flowers appeared. Wolfsbane. In her other hand a stick turned to flint. She struck the flint to the wolfsbane and it glowed. Yes!

Willow’s voice shouted,
“Throw it, thus!”

Marla’s shout carried across the thundering engine and battle sounds. “I’ll teach you to take my mate!”

“Bring it on, bitch!” Dora threw the glowing yellow flint. Like a bolt of lightning, it struck Marla in the heart. The others inside scrambled as yellow smoke filled the cabin. The werewolves collapsed and the pilot slumped. The helicopter spun and then whirled, crashing on a sea of zombies and bursting into flames.

She stared at her hands. They buzzed with electricity. Her hair levitated like Steven King’s
Carrie
in the final prom scene.

The helicopter that carried their alpha Valeray made a pass over the burning helicopter and immediately veered toward the east.

Dora stared at the retreating Benandanti. “Cowards!” The yelp of another beta focused her attention back to her friends. Torn arms, guts and legs were grabbed by the hungry zombies.

The gut wrenching howls of the werewolves scorched her soul.

She floated to a lower branch and the zombies excitedly reached toward her as if in awed worship. That is, if you worship a scrumptious cupcake.

Lashing heads off zombies, Dirk roared and thundered toward her.

She glowered at the horde of zombies and imagined the grass turning into vines around them. From the earth, slender vines emerged and tangled around the zombie’s legs. They didn’t complain, but stumbled and fell like lassoed calves. “Yee Haw!”

They dug their hands into the dirt, dragging their rotting bodies toward her even as the creeping plants grew, wrapping them like mummies. Trembling with charged electricity, she imagined thorns emanating from the top of the suffocating vines. The thorns as sharp as a scalpel stabbed through the brain of each cocooned zombie. Dead. Hundreds. She was no longer Doctor Adler, the healer, she’d become more like Kali, the Hindu Goddess of Destruction.

She recalled her humanities professor’s words:
“The gods could not kill the demon Raktabija. Every drop of his blood that touched the ground transformed itself into another demon. The entire battlefield covered with millions of demon clones. Only Kali could defeat them.”

But these were not demons, rather once people with aspirations and goals. Farmers, soldiers, parents, clergymen, and people she might have passed on the street or cared for their ills. Trapped as zombies. She wanted to weep with the waste of their lives.

Suddenly, ethereal spirits of light floated from the decaying bodies, straight up to the heavens. Liberation. Hundreds of voices pummeled inside her head, shouting words of gratitude. It was too much to process.

A hammering headache threatened to break open her skull. Grimacing, she hugged her branch. Her vision blurred and her grip loosened. Dirk leapt to her branch, grabbed her and ran away from the horrific scene.

“Dora, hang on. Our helicopters are on the way.”

A few zombies followed but with their numbers so greatly diminished, the werewolves made mincemeat out of them. Dirk dashed toward a ridge overlooking the carnage. He set her down. Pain continued to stab her head. Waves of nausea coursed through her. She dropped to her knees and vomited. Each time she heaved, her volatile headache throbbed like a hot air balloon, ready to pop. Was that tortured wail coming from her? Her stomach empty, she pressed her hands against her head. The pulsing attack subsided.

Dirk had returned to his human form and gently placed a hand on her back. “Babe, are you all right?”

She winced from his soft touch and groaned. “Just a zombie killing hangover.”

“After what you did, I can see why.”

She let him lift her and she wobbled. “Looks like I am a weapon of mass destruction.”

He held her and met her eyes. “We lost five but you saved the rest of us.”

In the distance, she heard the familiar helicopter drone. Rescue was here at last.

Epilogue

Five Months Later

Dora ran the Yosemite Medical Clinic not too far from the Arbor Wolves’ temporary home, the famous Anwahee Hotel. She treated mostly humans. They now numbered thirty-two. A good thing to keep her busy, since shifters rarely got sick. The once famous park accommodated the few humans as well as other shifters. The bear shifters lived nearby in the Bass Lake area in their own territory. Bear shifters tended to be on the grumpy side, while wolves loved nothing better than teasing the hell out of them. However, for the most part the majority of the shifters lived within the park. The band of unusual survivors totaled two hundred and thirty-six.

Sierra and her human husband, Ethan, would soon arrive for her OBGYN checkup. Dora glanced at her watch. In fact, they would be here any second. Fang, her constant companion, was snug under his warm doggie down comforter. The little Chihuahua always knew when Dirk would be arriving. He looked up at her with a worried tilt and sighed with a whimper. Maybe something had gone terribly wrong? She fretted and drew the window curtains to look out. The clinic van was buried in snow. How was he going to dredge through the freezing cold?

Duh, she reminded herself. He’s a wolf.

Dirk and a few members of his pack often ventured outside the park to nearby towns to bring back more provisions. There was plenty of food and the generators were working well, but the pack was always concerned with having a surplus in case nature worked against them and sent a blizzard, making the roads impassable.

His current duty was to lead the shifter guards to kill as many frozen zombies as possible before the winter melt. This had been going on since the first snow. In the hundred and thirty mile circumference around the park, the once inhabited towns were now free of zombies. Soon the entire Sierra Nevada area would be free, at least until spring. How many more zombies would attempt to return?

The bird shifters reported the swarms had started slowly vacating the cities in search of food. In flight, they spotted human survivors living in small bands throughout rural areas across the states. The radio broadcast of a man named Barry brought hope to listeners by helping survivors find one another. The Consortium was anxious to contact him, but of late, there had been no broadcast. Their immediate concern was for the innocent survivors. If found by roving human thugs that lived like predators, their lives would be no better than slaves. These barbarous gangs set up little chiefdoms where their members had no rights.

What if these survivors joined up with werewolf hunters? Dirk and his pack might have been ambushed. All this time they had not communicated telepathically. The distance had been too great. She closed her eyes.
“Dirk, is everything okay?”

“Hang in there, babe. I’m closer than you think. Got to go.”

Dora sighed, stepped away from the window and returned to her desk. Before her patient arrived, she reviewed the chart.

The ultrasound showed the baby’s growth was normal. Her heart rate was strong and her mother, Sierra, was under no duress. The baby’s head had dropped, and Dora hoped it would be a natural birth. Yet she had reservations, not knowing what to expect from a werewolf/human hybrid offspring. Someday, Dora wanted to have a child with Dirk so she watched their pregnancy very carefully. Would she even be able to conceive and would the child really be a witch or dragon wizard? A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Fang sprang up, happily wagging his tail.

“Hi, sorry we’re late,” apologized Sierra while Ethan petted the squirming little dog’s belly.

“That’s okay. I was catching up on some work.”

Sierra waddled over and sat on the patient bed. “Let’s make this quick before I have to go to the bathroom again. She’s leaning on my bladder and I need to go every ten minutes. I wish I could have remained in werewolf form.”

Dora pressed the chart to her heart. “That’s possible?”

“Fortunately, not.” Ethan laughed. “If it was, she would have bitten my head off.”

Sierra gave him a pointed glare. “Ha, ha. If I did, who would have brought me blueberries and chew bones at all hours?” She returned her gaze to Dora. “Don’t worry. You do know shifters remain human until their pre-teens?”

“So, I’ve heard.” Dora had never considered carrying a non-human fetus. Because of the danger from zombie attack, many in the pack had chosen not to bear young and she couldn’t blame them.

Dora checked Sierra’s vitals and checked on the baby’s position. “Should be any day now, maybe even right on the New Year.” The baby was due between December 31 and January 2. She didn’t want to remind Sierra of the daunting possibility the baby could take another ten days.

Ethan smiled. “Any time is fine.” He helped Sierra up.

Sierra stretched. “Actually, now would be even better.” She raised her brow at Dora. “Don’t worry about my brother. He and his team were just arriving before we left.”

She snorted. “That obvious?” Werewolves were notorious for reading faces, even when masked with a cheery facade. Not to mention their sensitivity to human pulse rates and subtle scents.

“Very obvious. My pregnancy has heightened my senses. Trust me, if Dirk was in trouble, I would know.”

Dora sighed in relief. “Good.”

Sierra sniffed. “In fact, he just entered the clinic.” Fang was already at the door, jumping, yelping and wagging his tail in utter happiness.

Dirk walked in and Dora flung her arms around him. Her heart was complete again. “I was so worried. It has been twelve days.” They kissed passionately, ignoring the couple and the yappy little dog, leaning its front paws on Dirk’s pants leg, waiting to be picked up.

Ethan laughed. “I think this is our cue to leave.”

Dirk and Dora pulled away and both spoke at once. “No, don’t.”

Sierra smiled. “We’ll see you at the Consortium meeting. I heard Talon has interesting news.”

Dirk smiled. “Actually, I’m leading the meeting.”

Dora gave Dirk a sidelong glance. “About the Protean?”

“Afraid not. The damn creature hides well.”

Sierra folded protective arms over her baby. “I’m sure its mission of destroying most of humanity is over. It probably slunk back into its hole.”

Dora sighed. “Someday we’ll regain the planet from the roving swarms of zombies. And possibly even create a vaccination.”

Ethan held Sierra’s hand. “Don’t worry, honey.”

Dirk knelt and spoke to her belly. “How’s my little niece?”

“Doing well,” said Sierra. “But we need to get going, I’m starved and Ethan promised me ice cream.”

Dirk picked up Fang as they left.

Dora took off her lab coat. “You said you would be back in two days.”

“Sorry, Falco has been obsessed with finding Brumby. After hearing a raven say she was somewhere in the foothills, he flew off.”

“Did he see her?” His nephew, while flying over what was once Nevada, had spotted the young woman with her herd of twenty horses. She was maybe sixteen from witness descriptions. Like the Pony Express, she rode far and wide, delivering mail to survivors. She rode a stallion, but often switched mounts to let them rest. Yet, she was evasive, perhaps to avoid road raiders and kept far from zombie swarms.

“As a matter of fact, he did. The boy is love struck. He described her as a vision with long flowing amber hair and with a lovely figure.”

“Did he land and talk to her?”

“He landed in his hawk form and watched her groom her black stallion. She even turned and told him that if he got any closer, she might capture him and teach him to hunt for her.”

“And?”

“The boy panicked and flew back to ask for my advice. I told him to go back, transform and invite her to join us but to be quick about it. When he flew back, she was gone. Vanished. How she hides so many horses is beyond us. I told him we didn’t have the time to search for her.” Dirk chuckled. “The boy forgets we can’t fly. Now he wants to find her when the moon is full and he becomes a wolf. He says he has her scent imprinted on his brain.”

“Hmm. It looks like we are bound to see more mixing between humans and shifters.”

He swept her into his arms. “About time.”

“So what news do you have for the Consortium?”

“We will discuss the Benandanti and Vircolac werewolves.”

She had never met a member of the Vircolac pack. The werewolf pack, originally from Eastern Europe hated humans. Their lust for blood had inspired the Hollywood werewolf. “Is Rave back from spying on the Benandanti?”

“Yep. She nearly got caught but managed to fly away, minus a few primary feathers. If the king and queen ever found out, they would lock her in a cage until her wedding day.”

Like that would do any good. Even her impending marriage to Bram, who lived with Josh, hadn’t curtailed her adventurous spirit. The wedding plans between Rave and Bram ended since Bram marked Josh as his mate. They only had to tell her parents. “Hmm. So what did she find out?”

He shrugged. “The usual. The Benandanti forbids the Arbor pack from entering the Great Lakes area. I don’t know how they’ve done it, but Rave discovered Valeray was building a society of religious humans. I have yet to see how that will work.”

“People need protection and order in this apocalyptic world. Joining a cult will give them assurance of a better life.”

Dirk nodded. “Apparently, the pack’s numbers have dwindled to no more than two dozen werewolves. Jaeger and his monster killing militia attacked his pack in a battle. The Benandanti wiped out most of the Kindred. After the combat, without their numbers the pack continued to lose lower rank werewolves to zombie attacks.”

“So Jaeger is still out there.”

“Unfortunately. Remember Maddox, the Benandanti alpha, hunter of the Kindred, I told you about?”