Chapter 125 - The Hunt

Alex's army marched north through the darkened city streets, their footsteps echoing off abandoned buildings. They had over sixty fighters, most of them armored in riot gear or improvised plate, and all of them armed and ready for war. They moved in a tight formation, disciplined and quiet, weapons held ready.

Alex flew above them, his eyes constantly scanning the darkness for threats and targets. For the monsters that had taken Marion from him.

They'd stopped briefly at MIT to share intelligence with Lloyd and his people. The meeting had been as brief as Alex could make it. He had no patience for long conversations just then, not with Marion’s murderer still loose. Alex told them about the werewolf threat, giving Lloyd details in particular about Cerberus and his infectious bite. Lloyd had thanked him and promised to fortify MIT's defenses.

Then Alex's squad from Harvard had caught up. He was reunited with Johnson, Anderson, Briggs, and the others who'd fought at the Yard. They looked exhausted but determined. They'd marched double-time to rejoin the main force.

Now, hours later, they were deep in what Alex assumed was werewolf territory. Or at least, territory where werewolves had been spotted. The question was: where were they now?

Alex climbed higher, using his Flight to gain altitude. From up there, he could see farther and spot movement that would be invisible from the ground. But the city was vast, filled with shadows and hiding places. Finding a pack of werewolves in all this darkness was like finding needles in a haystack.

Unless they moved. That was his main hope. If he could catch even the briefest glimpse of werewolves moving about, he could track them. But so far, all he’d seen were a few small bands of goblins and ratkin.

Alex flew in wide circles, scanning every street, alley, and rooftop as he soared silently by. Minutes passed, then an hour. His people below kept marching, following his lead, trusting him to find their quarry.

Then, he saw it! Movement, about two miles northeast. A handful of dark shapes raced down a street, moving with inhuman speed and grace. Alex counted quickly. There were six of them, all moving together in a tight pack.

He’d found werewolves at last.

Alex didn't dive toward them. Much as he wanted to attack, that wasn’t the smart play. He wanted to get them all, not just this group. Instead, he followed from a distance, high enough that they wouldn't notice him. He wanted to see where they were going. With luck this group would lead him straight back to their lair, wherever Cerberus had gathered his pack.

The six werewolves ran through the city streets like they owned them, not even bothering to hide or take cover. Why would they? They were the apex predators now. What did they have to fear?

Me, Alex thought to himself. They should fear me.

They turned one corner, then another. Alex followed, keeping pace. They were heading toward a massive brick building, three stories tall. He spotted a sign. This had been a school, in the time before. It had probably housed hundreds of students before the Event. Now it looked abandoned, its windows dark, its doors shut.

The werewolves approached the building's main entrance and disappeared inside. Alex circled overhead, waiting to see if they'd come back out. They didn't. After five minutes of watching, he descended toward the building, landing silently on the roof. The school had several skylights. Alex moved from one to another, peering down into the darkened interior.

At first, he didn’t see anything useful. The skylights looked down on empty hallways and a cafeteria with overturned tables.

Then he reached the skylight above the gymnasium, and there they were.

Werewolves. Dozens of them. It looked like the entire pack was gathered in the gym like it was some kind of meeting hall. They moved around the space, some sitting in groups while others paced restlessly. Alex counted quickly, getting a rough estimate. Forty? Fifty? More kept arriving through doors at the far end of the gym.

And there, in the center of it all, standing on what had probably been a basketball court, was Cerberus.

The pack leader was unmistakable. He was eight feet tall with golden fur, radiating authority and power. The other werewolves gave him space, treating him with obvious deference. He was speaking to a group of them, gesturing with those massive clawed hands, though Alex couldn't hear the words through the skylight.

Then Alex saw her. Marion.

She was standing near Cerberus, still in her werewolf form. Her fur was the same brown her hair had been. Like the others, she was locked in bipedal wolf form, but it was unmistakably her. Alex would have recognized her anywhere, even transformed. It was little things like the way she moved or the tilt of her head. There was something in her posture that was still Marion, even trapped in that monstrous body.

She was alive. But was there anything of Marion left inside that creature, or was she lost forever?

Alex's hands clenched into fists, purple energy crackling around them involuntarily. Half of him wanted to crash through the skylight right now, to dive into that mass of werewolves and fight his way to her. To kill Cerberus. To end this nightmare with lightning and fury and rage.

But he wasn't that stupid or reckless, no matter how much he wanted to be. Even at tier eight, one man rushing in against fifty werewolves was suicide. If he did somehow manage to kill Cerberus, the pack would tear him apart. And then who would save Marion? Who would stop the plague?

No. He needed his army, his people. This strike required strategy, not just raw power. Alex took one last look at the gym, memorizing the layout, the positions of the werewolves, the exits and entrances. Then he launched himself back into the air and flew toward where he'd left his troops.

He found them exactly where they should be, maintaining formation, weapons ready. Johnson saw him coming and raised a hand in greeting.

“Any luck?” Johnson asked as Alex landed.

"I found them," Alex said, his voice tight with controlled fury. "All of them. They're holed up in a school about half a mile northeast of here. At least fifty werewolves, maybe more. Cerberus is there. And...Marion's there, too."

A murmur ran through the assembled fighters. Some looked hopeful, perhaps thinking that maybe they could save her. Others looked grim, understanding that wasn't really an option.

"What's the plan, boss?" Anderson asked.

"We trap them," Alex said. "The school has multiple exits. There’s a main entrance, side doors, and emergency exits. We're going to seal all but one. Chain them, lock them, barricade them. I want those monsters to have exactly one way out, and then we’re going to attack through that last entrance.”

"And if they bust their way out the windows?” Briggs asked.

"Then we chase. We hunt them down and kill them all,” Alex said coldly. "One way or another, this ends tonight."

They marched the remaining distance in silence, weapons held ready. Dawn was maybe an hour away now, the sky just starting to lighten in the east. Perfect. Alex wanted to see his enemies when he killed them.

The school loomed ahead, dark and silent. Alex held up a hand and the army stopped, spreading out to surround the building. He'd already briefed them on the plan during the march. Everyone knew their role. He flew up first, checking through the skylights, and saw that most of the werewolves had drifted off to sleep. They still had guards, but they were few. It was the perfect time to strike. He returned to his force and set the plan in motion.

Teams moved to each exit, working quickly and quietly. Heavy chains were wrapped around door handles. Padlocks clicked shut. Wooden boards were nailed across doorframes. They left only the main entrance unsealed—one set of double doors leading into the school's front hallway.

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when they finished. Alex stood before the main entrance, his army arrayed behind him in formation. Shields in front, spears ready, the armored fighters in the lead.

"Remember," Alex said quietly, his voice carrying to everyone. "These things are infectious. Avoid being bitten at all costs. If someone goes down, you leave them. We can't afford to stop. Stay in formation. Kill every werewolf you see. Show no mercy. Give no quarter. They took our people. They took Marion. Now we take everything from them."

He raised his hand, purple energy crackling around it. Behind him, his fighters tensed, ready.

"For Marion!" Alex hissed.

"For Marion!" the army echoed.

Alex blasted the doors off their hinges with a Lightning Bolt. The explosion echoed through the building. Wood and metal flew inward in a shower of debris.

And then they charged.

The entrance hallway was dark, lit only by the dawn light filtering through broken windows. Two werewolves had been guarding the doors. The explosion knocked them backward, stunned.

They didn't get a chance to recover. Johnson's sword took the first one's head off cleanly, while Anderson's spear punched through the second one's chest. The werewolves went down without even managing to howl a warning.

But they didn't need to. The sound of the explosion had done that for them. From deeper in the school, Alex heard answering howls. Dozens of them. The pack was awake now, and they sounded pissed off. That was good. They’d be in disarray, all waking so suddenly. He needed to take advantage of their confusion before they could organize.

"Forward!" Alex commanded, moving down the hallway. His army advanced behind him, shields locked, weapons ready. Alex was at the front, where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be. His hands crackled with purple energy as he prepared to cast again.

More werewolves appeared ahead, racing down the hallway toward them. A whole wave of fur and fangs and claws launched itself down the corridor, howling their rage.

Alex didn't hesitate. He raised both hands and unleashed Lightning Bolt after Lightning Bolt into their ranks. Purple energy crackled through the hallway, striking werewolves one after another. They convulsed and fell, bodies smoking. But more kept coming, leaping over their fallen pack mates, driven by rage and pack instinct. Alex took to the air, gliding up and back. Now, the werewolves were rushing headlong toward a line of shields and spears.

"Brace!" Johnson shouted.

The werewolf wave hit the shield wall with tremendous force. The impact drove Alex's front line back a step, but they held. Spears thrust out between shields, finding flesh. Werewolves screamed and fell. But they kept coming, kept pushing, trying to break through.

Alex cast again, his Lightning striking the werewolves trying to flank the formation. They fell back, smoking. The hallway was filling with bodies now, both human and wolf. The fighting was brutal, close-quarters work, and casualties started stacking up on both sides as the battle progressed.

One way or another, Alex was determined to end this threat tonight.