Bad Moon on the Rise

Page 25

“I can help, too,” Tucker said. “I’d like to put on some jeans or something, though. I’ll go find my clothes and be back in a minute.”
Nicky waved him away, and Tucker started back down the moonlit path to the lodge. What had seemed like such a short distance when they first left the lodge in the twilight looked somehow more sinister and a lot farther away in the dark. Tucker looked around uneasily. Without the larger than life presence of the wolves, the place seemed almost deserted, though there were plenty of people still coming and going from the lodge. There was absolutely no threat to be seen anywhere, yet Tucker had a strange feeling of being observed. He hurried to the door of the lodge and looked back behind him on the path, but it was completely deserted. It was then that he heard a soft cry, not from outside, but sounding like it came from behind him, inside the lodge in the big common room.
He ran toward the sound and saw a small figure crumpled on the floor near the front door. Standing over him was a man he didn’t recognize, but who looked vaguely familiar. Trained as a detectiveto notice and remember people’s appearances, Tucker focused for a moment on the fact that the man was tall, about thirty-five or so, with dark hair and regular features. Nothing was remarkable about him at all, except for the fact that he looked just as surprised to see the boy there as Tucker was. Tucker rushed over to the young boy and began checking him for injuries. “What happened?” he asked sharply.
“I-I don’t know. I heard a cry and found him lying here just as you came in.”
Tucker glanced up at him and noticed he was carrying what looked like a small doctor’s bag. “Are you a doctor?”
Before he could answer, Tucker heard a shout behind him. It was Nicky, and he came rushing over. “Oh my God! What’s happened?”
“Calm yourself, Nicky, dear. I was just getting ready to examine him,” the man said, bending down beside him and opening his bag. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
Nicky, who had fallen down beside the boy, taking his head in his lap looked up at the tall man. “Thank you, Jeremy!” He glanced over at Tucker. “This is Dr. Jeremy Tate. His sister is the mate of one of the gammas. Oh Tucker, could you go find Rory? This boy is his little brother, Adam.”
Dr. Tate stood up again, still holding his bag in one hand. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
Nicky looked confused. “But…Rory needs to know what’s happened—Marco too.”
“Oh they’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, I have to insist that you stay right where you are, Tucker.” Tucker took a step backward as the doctor pulled a small black oblong from his bag. Tucker recognized the object in his hand right away. That was the smell then that he’d been trying to recognize since he first came on the scene, the slight burning smell. Tate had used a Taser on the boy and was now about to use it on him. His mind registered the fact almost objectively, as if it were happening to someone else.
“Jeremy, what are you doing?” Nicky yelled and tried to jump up in front of him. Tate pushed him aside, like batting away a troublesome fly. He pointed the Taserat Tucker’s chest. “Say goodnight, Tucker.” There wasn’t even a chance to run as he hit him with it. Tucker had been hit by a Taser once before as part of his training on the police force in Florida, and it was an experience he’d vowed never to repeat. The second the Taser hit him it felt like a four by four struck him in the chest and kept hitting him over and over. He couldn’t drag in a breath and his body tensed like one big cramp as he fell helplessly to the floor, unable to break his own fall. His head bounced on the wooden floor, stunning him even more, and his whole body went into spasms as Tate followed up the Taser with a fist to his head, and the darkness crashed down heavily on top of him.
Chapter Nine
Tucker woke up to darkness so complete that it almost had substance. Disoriented, feeling around frantically, he touched a wall behind him, and quickly scooted up so that his back was against it, and it helped to ground him. He wasn’t tied, but he was naked, the cement icy and damp under his ass. His heart was pounding, beating much faster than normal, whether from his predicament or some other cause he didn’t yet know. His head felt thick and muzzy, and his chest hurt. He knew from experience that the ache in his chest most likely came from the Taser, as did the pain and fuzziness in his head. He felt for a knot on his head and found it quickly near the base of his skull. It was sticky with blood, and he wondered how long he’d been knocked out.
As his eyes gradually adjusted to the gloom, he saw that there actually was one small dirty window, wide, but only about eight or ten inches in height, up on the opposite wall. Outside the window, he could just make out the roots of some type of bush. He was in a basement then, but where? He got shakily to his feet and began to walk the perimeter of the room, holding one hand on the wall to figure out how large a space he was in. He ran into a set of stairs halfway around the space. He crawled carefully to the top and found they led up to a steel door, from the feel of it, locked, of course and with no light seeping around the edges. Making his way back down, he continued around the space until he came back to approximately where he’d started, judging from its position across from the small window. Even though the space wasn’t large, maybe fifteen paces long and fifteen wide, he’d had to stop three times on his way around the room to rest, and his body ached all over like he had a bad case of flu. He hadn’t run into anything—or anyone—on his circuit around the room, so he assumed it was mostly empty. He slid back down the wall to rest for a few moments and try to formulate some kind of plan, but right now he was coming up empty.
A strip of light appearing at the bottom of the steel door startled him, and he thought briefly of trying to hide behind the steps to ambush whoever was coming, but he quickly discarded the idea. He was much too weak to try any such thing. Better to bide his time and see what he was up against. Maybe a chance to escape would present itself.
The door opened and the man Nicky had called Jeremy Tate stood framed in the doorway. He came slowly down the steps, and Tucker was horrified to see that he wasn’t alone. Nicky followed him, naked, head down and lolling forward on his shoulders, he was obviously stoned on something. Tate held tightly to his arm, helping him down the steps and pulled Nicky across the room to stand in front of Tucker. Tucker glanced up first at Nicky, who seemed to be almost out on his feet. He was startled to see a huge erection bobbing in front of Nicky, throbbing and red. He was rubbing it now with his free hand, up and down, up and down, slowly, though it didn’t seem to bring him any relief. With his head down and his hair over his forehead, it was hard to see any expression on his beautiful face. Tate held his arm possessively, pulling his body close to his side.
“You’re awake! I thought it might be an hour or more yet. You creatures really do have the most amazing metabolisms.” Absently he caressed the side of Nicky’s face. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes more after all, sweetheart, for me to take care of you. Just long enough for me to give your friend, Tucker, here, another dose.”
“Dose of what?” Tucker asked quietly.
“A special cocktail I made up myself. I’ve been experimenting with some of the other so- called pets of the wolves, and I think I’ve finally got it right. Tommy was almost perfect, but your big bad wolf killed him too fast. I didn’t have time to see what effects my drugs might have had long term. I hope to have more luck with you, and possibly I can do some fine-tuning.”
“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean, luck? What are you trying to do?” Not that he gave a shit what the maniac was trying to do, but he wanted to keep him talking if he could on the off chance he’d come up with an idea.
Tate smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you? I saw you once at that bar you liked to go to in Florida. I tipped my glass to you, and I thought for a moment you might come over to speak to me. It would have made things so much easier. But you only had eyes for that damned wolf.”
Tucker shook his head, his memory fuzzy. He had a vague memory of the man the night Tucker had come in with his gammas. He remembered the sight of Tate had given him a slight chill. “Why did you bring us here? What the fuck are you doing?”
“Why, I’m building an army, an army of pets under my control. Not the humans, of course, like Nicky here. They’re just victims of the monsters. No, I need creatures like you. The Hunter scientists went wrong by experimenting on the wolves. Wolves are too difficult to manage, too strong, and way too arrogant. The pets, however, are genetically predisposed to be docile creatures. They have the added bonus of being very special to the wolves, so they hesitate to hurt them. By turning them into killing machines, I can eventually wipe out the wolves and then I can simply destroy the pets under my control.”
“Tommy was killing innocent humans, you prick! Thewolves aren’t the murderers—you are!”
Tate shook his head, a nasty little smirk on his lips. “Now, now, I can’t expect you to understand. You’re one of them, after all. One of the half-breed abominations. The deaths of the humans in Florida were unfortunate, yes. Some of that fine-tuning I was talking about. You see, Tommy was sent there after you, Tucker. He just got a little mixed up. Poor Tommy. Not the brightest bulb in the box, was he? I hope to have more luck with you.”
That gotTucker’s attention. “With me? What the hell are you even saying? And why would he come after me? I didn’t have anything to do with the wolves before a few weeks ago.”
“Yes, but your mother did. Your mother was married before she met your father, Tucker. To Elias Winters.”
Elias Winters? Why did that name ring a bell? Tucker searched his memory for a moment, then mentally shrugged.“Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never knew my mother, and my grandparents never mentioned that to me.”
Tate gave a short bark of laughter. “No, I would think not. Too ashamed of their little whore, I would think. Elias Winters was the founder and leader of the Hunters, Tucker. They fought the wolves for over thirty years until the wolves attacked them and wiped them out to the last man.”