White Fangs (21 page)

"Sabine, go!" Jack said in an urgent whisper.

Lamp firmly in hand, she stepped over the vampire. It lolled its head back and inhaled deeply, catching her scent even though it was not fully conscious. Then it opened its eyes, grinning horribly, its mouth was impossibly large.

Callie bent low and shot the leech point blank in the temple with a silver bullet, blowing blood and black, ossified chunks of brain out the other side of its skull. The shot was loud in the cave, echoing off of the walls, and Jack knew that if a kick from Ghost had woken this one, the gunshot might well wake the others.

"Run!" he snapped.

Showing his inhuman strength, Ghost rose to his feet as if Lesya were no burden at all and bolted along the cave, his footfalls loud. But noise no longer mattered. Callie and Sabine followed as quickly as they could without stumbling, and Jack raced after them, glancing over his shoulder, ready at any moment to turn and fire his silver buckshot into anything that might already be pursuing.

The light ahead brightened sooner than expected, and Jack narrowed his eyes against the dimming sunlight. He heard Ghost snapping at the Reverend and Louis, and then Sabine adding to the chorus. He saw Callie spilling out of the cave mouth ahead of him, saw her turning to aim both guns back inside, right at him. Behind him came shuffling, and then a roar that grew into a furious cacophony as the vampires they had woken barreled up the cave's throat.

Jack burst from the cave, turning sharply to stand beside Callie, expecting at any moment the glimmer of white fur from within. He glanced to his right at Louis.

"Light it, damn it!" Jack shouted.

"It's lit!" the Reverend called, and only then did Jack see him off to the left of the cave mouth, beyond Callie, a flaming brand still in his hand.

Sabine grabbed his wrist and tugged him after her, and then they were all running. The lamp crashed to the stony ground behind them and shattered, forgotten as they fled down the cliff-side trail in search of cover. Just ahead was the corner they'd come around when they'd first spotted the limestone cave, but as they ran, Sabine faltered, the weakness of the past days finally catching up with her. Jack bent, lifted her over his shoulder, and kept running. With him carrying Sabine and Ghost carrying Lesya, it was Callie who reached the corner first and turned to shout at them to hurry.

Jack heard a roar behind him. It rose into the air with such strength that he knew the vampires must be at the cave mouth. He turned and saw one of them there, the polar bear's huge form silhouetted in the shadows inside the limestone cave. But it did not emerge. The cave mouth was still bathed in the fading daylight and the monster could not venture out. It began to shrink, transforming before his eyes into a thing of evil, like a man but not a man. Its red eyes glared from the darkness, pale skin ghostly.

It looks so hungry,
Jack thought.

The dynamite exploded, knocking Jack backward. He slammed to the ground and Sabine spilled from his shoulder, sprawling on the stony trail. The next roar came not from the vampires but from the cliff itself, as countless tons of limestone gave way and the cave collapsed in upon itself. The ground shook, dust boiled through the air and caught the setting sun, and boulders bounced over the cliff edge and down toward the stream. The sound was muffled in Jack's ringing ears as they scrambled to their feet and stood there, swaying, with Sabine leaning her head against his shoulder.

Callie began to whoop in celebration. Jack stared at her for a moment, then began to laugh. He turned toward the others to share their victory, but behind the settling rocks and the explosion's echoes was another sound.

Another roar.

"Son of a . . ." the Reverend began.

They all stepped out from behind the outcropping and looked up above the sealed cave entrance. Forty feet up the cliff face was another dark slit in the limestone. The roar turned into a cry that was half caw and half screech, and then the largest hawk Jack had ever seen swept out into the air, curving around and drifting straight for them. A second hawk followed, both of them uttering that shrieking, furious cry.

Jack had seen the blood-inked cave paintings of the Tlingit vampires. He knew what these were. There was another way out of their lair. He swore loudly, raised the shotgun, and took aim, even as Callie did the same with her pistols, waiting for the right shot.

Then he saw the flames.

"Callie," he said, "wait."

The hawks were on fire, their feathers igniting in the sunlight. In seconds they were crashing to the stone path, turning from birds to undead men even as their bones blackened and their flesh turned to ash.

"We've got maybe an hour and a half before the sun goes down," he said urgently, still looking at the smoldering ruins. "We have to get Lesya back to her forest. They caught her far from home, where her magic couldn't protect her. We get her back there, maybe she can keep us alive."

"There were dozens of 'em in there!" Callie said. "Once the sun goes down, out in the open, we're dead."

"Jack's right," Sabine said. "If we can get her to her place of power, she can protect us. And I can help."

"It took us three times that long to get here," the Reverend said.

Ghost laughed, his voice rough as gravel. "Well, at least we got a head start. Let's make the best of it."

They ran, knowing that in order to survive they must outrun the night.

They ran for their lives. Down from the cliff face, across the ridge, splashing through the stream, stomping across marshy ground they ran, aware with every step that the dying of the light would bring down death upon them.

The Reverend and Louis took the lead, scouting ahead for any dangers that might hamper their escape. Callie brought up the rear. She had waved them all on ahead, and with a glance Jack knew what she planned — she would be the first to face the monsters. She had come all this way, spent so long hunting and killing them, and in a way she had been waiting for this for years.

Ghost carried Lesya, Jack and Sabine following behind. "We have to survive," Sabine said.

"We will."

"We
have
to!"

Jack glanced sidelong at his love, but she was looking ahead at Ghost and Lesya. There was a longing in her eyes that Jack was not sure he had ever seen before, and it took him a few moments to realize why. Sabine's eyes looked so
old
. Her beauty was a constant, but the look in her eyes as she gazed upon someone who might be a sister to her carried the weight of every unknown decade she had existed. Ghost bore someone who could shed light on Sabine's past, and explain so much to her that she had never been able to understand.

Jack understood. But even though it was everything he had wanted for Sabine since the moment they set sail for the north, it scared him.

What will she find out?
he wondered.
What will it all mean to me?
There was a note of selfishness there, perhaps, but he felt at ease being selfish about his love. They had come so far together.

Lesya had barely stirred since they had left the cave. Ghost strode on, seemingly immune to tiredness, his strong legs eating up the land even though he carried her weight across his arms. Jack sometimes drew close enough to see her open eyes, but they seemed to be staring skyward, lids lazy and eyes weak and watery. He feared that the vampires had drained her so much that she might never recover, and that her powers would be so weakened that she might never speak again.

He also feared that other, unimaginable thing — that she might turn. Back in Dawson, Callie had executed her friend's wife, certain in the knowledge that doing so would save the poor woman from eternal damnation. Here they were now, running with a woman — a creature — who had been fed upon by the vampires for an unknown period of days, even weeks.

Perhaps she's turned already
, Jack thought,
and her strange powers protect her from the touch of sunlight, or her bark skin, or that unnatural affinity she has with Nature . . .
. The vampires they had met before were monstrous and incredibly strong. How much worse would Lesya be in vampiric form?

But before starting on their flight back toward Lesya's forest, Callie had given the unconscious woman a cursory examination, then shaken her head. She had seemed unconcerned, and for now Jack would accept that.

For now.

But he would keep watch.

"You seem stronger than ever," Jack said to Sabine.

"I don't think I've ever felt so strong," she agreed. "Being so close to her . . . perhaps it's my own excitement, knowing how much I might soon discover. But it's as if our strength complements each other."

"She doesn't seem very strong right now."

"Don't let appearances deceive," Sabine said. "I think . . ."

"What?" Jack prompted as she trailed off.

"I think perhaps there's more life to her than she's showing."

They were running through a forest, following a rough path worn by wildlife, or perhaps trodden by generations of Tlingit Indians as they trapped and hunted, living their lives in concert with the wild.

"She likes being carried," Jack said slowly.

"She likes being carried by Ghost."

Jack spied Louis some way ahead, atop a small rise and looking back to gauge their progress. When he saw that they were all running their best he waved them on, then dipped down the other side of the rise. This landscape was covered with hidden places — trees and wrinkles in the skin of the land; twisting rivers and sudden ravines — and when the time came, Jack supposed they might be able to hide away from the vampires. Put up a fight. Make a last stand.

But even if Lesya was more awake than she portrayed, they were still far from her forest. Against the many vampires he suspected would come after them, in a multitude of forms, none of them would last very long out in the open.

"We will survive, Sabine," Jack said. "Because I love you, and I want you to have what you've missed for so long."

"My history," she said, almost breathless.

"I want to share in it," Jack said.

"Of course," Sabine said.

They ran on, cutting through the forest and making good progress. Jack was thirsty, but they did not stop for a drink. Food would have given them energy, but it would also take time to halt and eat. Every minute counted and went some way toward ensuring their survival. And every one of them was determined to survive.

Lesya trailed parts of herself that seemed eager to merge with the forest. Her hair was countless creeper tendrils, and her limbs sprouted leaves that, when they had fled the cave, had appeared almost autumnal. Now they were greener and carried a shine.
The luster of life
, Jack thought. He remembered his time with Lesya, and the strange affection that had hung between them — hers for a man who understood the wild in a way most men never would, and his for something extraordinary and beautiful. Her madness that had come between them had been stronger and more final, but for a time there had been . . .

Love?
Not compared to what he felt for Sabine. But perhaps something strong and intense. To think of it now was almost a betrayal, but in Sabine's eyes he saw the same entrancement. Even carried in the arms of a man-beast, Lesya was the center of their group.

As Jack watched, one of Lesya's arms swept up and she traced a stick-finger across the underside of Ghost's bristly jaw. He looked down at her and
smiled
. It was pure and honest and open, not the confident grin Jack had seen on his face before. This was the true smile of Ghost, and Lesya might have been the first person to ever witness it.

"Sabine . . ." Jack said.

"I know," she muttered. "It can only help us. They're both strong, in their own ways." She reached out and grasped Jack's hand, and awkward though it was, they held hands for a few steps.

"Come on!" the Reverend shouted from ahead, paused halfway up a steep slope. He seemed troubled, and Jack looked back to see Callie closing on them.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Run," Callie said.

"Is it them?" Sabine asked.

"It will be." She drew closer and they ran together, bounding up the slope toward where the Reverend and Louis waited. Ghost reached them first and turned, looking back over the treetops the way they had come. His face grew grim. He looked at Jack, then Sabine. Something about him had changed, and it took a moment for Jack to see what.

Ghost's constant humor at the folly of those around him had melted away. Now,
he
had found something to survive for, too.

Jack and Sabine turned, and Sabine let out a small groan of frustration, and fear.

"Sunset," Jack said. The sun kissed the western horizon, bleeding across hilltops. "Callie?"

"They'll try to come right now," she said. "It'll burn 'em, maybe kill some of 'em. But dusky sun is filtered, and weaker. Whatever . . ." She shrugged, as if resigned. "Quarter of an hour, they'll all be out."

"And we have a ways to go," Jack said softly.

"They'll never let us go," a voice said. Jack's heart jumped at the pure fury in Sabine's voice, but when he glanced at her, she was looking back at Ghost.

Jack looked as well. Lesya had raised her head and was staring into the weakening sun.

"They've stolen enough of me," the tree spirit said. "If they draw close again, there's something I request of you." Lesya caught Jack's eye. "Kill me, my Jack London."

"I don't know if I can," he said.

"I'll tell you how."

"That's not what I meant." He was shaking. Sabine grabbed his hand, and that meant the world.

Lesya looked up at Ghost again, who was staring down at her in some kind of wonder. "Then, my wild man, I'll tell you instead."

Jack's wolf ran with them. He could sense it somewhere just out of sight, and perhaps that was where it had always been. Even when he was out at sea with Ghost and the sea wolves, maybe the wolf had been out of sight somewhere inside, guiding and advising as much as it could so far from its spiritual home in the north.

Ghost glanced aside twice, and both times Jack knew why. He sensed the wolf as well.

Jack probed out with his senses as they ran, but touching on the wolf did not comfort him as much as it should have. The beast was as scared as all of them. The wild was no longer king out here, because evil ruled the land.

Just as Lesya raised her head and looked forward expectantly, and Jack sensed the barren expanse of her forest somewhere ahead of them, a gunshot rang out.

Jack and Sabine skidded to a halt and turned back. Callie stood in a shooting stance. Falling toward her, leaving a trail of sparks and wispy smoke, was a huge hawk. It struck the ground ten steps from Callie and thrashed its wings, feathers blending to skin, beak fracturing and melting into a sharp face. The man stilled, and Callie turned and ran.

"The flyers," she said. "They're quickest. There'll be more.
Run.
Run, Jack! Run, Sabine! I'll hold back and —" She said no more, interrupted by the cries of terrible, unnatural birds from back the way they had come.

Jack and Sabine ran. Ahead of them Ghost was bounding across the plain, heading for the stream that would lead them to Lesya's forest. The Reverend and Louis waited for them, and as Ghost approached they both broadened, flickering with fur as they allowed the change that would aid them in the fight to come.

"Go on!" Jack said, waving to them. The shotgun felt heavy in his other hand, eager to be fired. Even with only two cartridges, the weapon was precious.

The werewolves ignored his plea and came toward him and Sabine, loping on all fours and then leaping past them to stand with Callie. They were guarding the retreat.

"How far?" Sabine asked.

"Close," Jack said. "Three miles?" They moved on in silence, and it was Sabine who stated what they both knew.

"Not close enough."

Another gunshot. Jack glanced back to see a flaming shape falling earthward trailing burning feathers. Callie was a fine shot, but even if each of her ten remaining bullets found its mark, there would be many more monsters flying and bounding past their dead, smoking brethren.

The Reverend and Louis reached Callie, guarding her flanks as she backed across the plain. Dusk was truly settled now, the sun little more than the horizon's memory. In the distance Jack could hear the vampires' evil roaring.

"I won't let them take you, Sabine," he said as they ran together. "Not like they took Lesya."

"I don't think it's their intention to take any of us," she replied. "Listen to those sounds. It's murder on their minds."

"But you're special," he said. They splashed across a narrow stream, and he heard Sabine's sigh as water splashed across her feet.

"Jack,
everyone
is special," she replied. "And you more than most. I'm different, that's all. More than human, or perhaps a little less than. But you . . . you're remarkable. If you don't see that . . . if the truth of it eludes you . . . then tell me . . . I'm wrong."

She sounded so earnest that Jack could not respond. He absorbed her words, and grinned back at her. There was no ego in his acknowledgement, simply an understanding. Everyone
was
unique and different — Ghost, the Reverend, Louis, Callie . . . . Those whom he had seen die, as well as the things he had killed himself. The world was filled with wonders, and that was why he strove to seek them out. Since he was a child he had sought to live, not simply to exist, and every single step had led here.

With Sabine, running through the wilds with evil on their tail.

Jack did not want to die, because there was a world of adventures still awaiting him. But if he did die now, at least he would go knowing he had already lived a good, full life.

Three more gunshots. Jack and Sabine paused and turned back, and Sabine exhaled heavily when she saw what was coming for them.

Surging from the woods, splashing and leaping across the stream they had crossed only minutes before, came the vampires. The dusky light was good enough to see them clearly, and Jack wished it was not. Several polar bears thundered through the water, and hawks drifted above them, barely flapping their wings. There was also a wolf, though one far more bedraggled than Jack's. Two mountain lions crouched down in the stream, several foxes darted, and other creatures came with them, vampires in animal form, larger and more savage than the animals whose shape they mimicked. Perhaps behind them were vampires still presenting themselves as human, but their bodies were not built for such speed. Jack feared the battle would be over before those monsters arrived.

"Oh, Sabine," Jack breathed. Behind them Ghost was still running, and he was muttering something under his breath, promises punctuated by every footfall.
You shall not die, you shall not die
. . . . In the face of such horror, Jack found the brutal captain's words to the wood witch unbearably moving.

Callie shot one of the mountain lions from forty feet. The creature flipped in the air and splashed down in the stream, growing pale, shrinking as death took it back to its shriveled, pathetic form. She fired at a charging polar bear, but the bullet only nicked the creature's ear, sending it into a raving frenzy that only made it more dangerous.

Louis took it from the left, and the Reverend from the right. One held it down, the other opened its throat and snapped its neck. It was already shrinking as they turned away, and Jack had never seen them so majestic.