“Stop! It might be a trap!” she shouted.
Both men could hear the fury in her voice, and it might have given them pause if they’d had time to think about it. Having just fought their way through a swarm of bees only to see Hollister turn around and head back into the hive had put her on edge.
As Hollister ran, he had to give Billy credit. The little bastard was quick. He must have gotten some kind of head start on the Archaics, but they were making up ground fast. He’s going to get me killed, Hollister thought, but damn, the kid can run.
Jonas was fast himself. At the Point he’d often challenge his classmates to footraces and in four years he’d only lost once, to a plebe from New Hampshire. He couldn’t remember the cadet’s name now. Simpkins? Simpson? Funny the things you thought of when you were racing toward your doom.
The trouble was, Hollister hadn’t run much, if at all, in years. Not since before he was thrown in Leavenworth. There had been no place to run there, and besides, running inmates tended to make the guards trigger happy.
As soon as he started running he knew he wasn’t going to reach the kid in time. He hadn’t used those muscles in forever, and everything felt stiff and unlimber. He should have sent Chee after him. With all the sergeant’s face kicking and leaping around in the air, he would have been a better choice.
He could hear Shaniah calling after him, but her voice was drowned out in the noise of Chee laying down a spray of gunfire and trying to slow the Archaics’ advance.
Thirty yards to go, his legs churning, the kid coming at him like a little gray blur. He pushed harder, his boots digging into the dirt.
Something flashed past him on his right, there so suddenly he flinched and almost pulled his pistol to shoot it. It was Shaniah. She was moving even faster than she had on the roof.
She blew past him and Billy a few yards later and skidded to a stop, the Archaics nearly on top of her. Her long knife was in her hand as she threw back her head and shouted in a long, loud cry unlike anything Hollister had ever heard. A strange mixture of animal, human, and something else pierced the night like a blade.
The Archaics stopped in their tracks.
Billy kept running toward the jail.
Chapter Forty-six
The fool! Shaniah cursed as she ran. Chee stayed behind her firing his bewitched rifle and she sprinted down the street in Hollister’s wake. He was fast for a human, but not fast enough. It was a surprise to find the human boy still alive. Convincing Hollister to abandon his search had not been easy. She looked foolish now, and had no choice but to attempt to rescue the child.
She rushed past Hollister and put herself between the Archaics and the two humans. This group rushing down the street was made up of initiates, and they might not have known it yet, but she was their queen. It was time for them to learn she would not be disobeyed. The alpha takes the prey first.
The change came over her, eyes burning red, fangs descending, and her jaw pushing forward. Throwing back her head, she gave a great bellowing cry, full of anger, rage, and challenge.
It worked. The Archaics stopped, confused. Crazy and wild-eyed with hunger, they eyed her warily, unsure what she was, but sensing her power.
Shaniah pitied them. When one is first turned, for days and sometimes weeks, the need for an initiate to feed is nearly all encompassing. The stress and metamorphosis the human body undertakes requires a nearly constant source of food.
But they were also a pack culture and there was an instinct toward hierarchy now imprinted on their newly Archaic brains. Shaniah was about to establish the pecking order.
There were thirteen of them standing. A few more staggered in the streets farther back, still fighting the effects of the man-witch’s elemental bullets.
“Hollister,” she said, knowing he stood a few yards behind her. “Run.”
He couldn’t see her face and she was sure he had no idea how she was holding the creatures in check, but for once he did something smart. Billy had already run past him like his tail was on fire, and Hollister spun and ran after him.
A few seconds later, Billy reached the jail and Chee hollered for them to let the boy back in. But he stayed in the street waiting until Hollister skidded to a halt next to him.
Chapter Forty-seven
Stopping next to Chee, Hollister realized the last few minutes had taken a toll on him. His ankles and knees ached from his jump off the roof, he was winded, and his leg muscles were cramping up. He hoped they could get inside the jail and hole up until daylight, when they might have a chance to get out of this mess.
Yet, he had already decided he wasn’t leaving Shaniah out here alone. There were too many Archaics here, even for her, and if he was ever going to find the one who’d killed his men, he was going to need her.
“How do you suppose she is doing that?” Chee asked.
“Haven’t the foggiest,” Hollister said.
“Should I shoot?”
“Not yet,” Hollister said, drawing his pistols as he did. “Let’s see what happens.”
The Archaics from the rooftops had disappeared. One lay in the street about twenty yards away, apparently dead or severely injured and Hollister wondered if the silver or wooden bullets had found a way to kill it-something that was previously unknown to Van Helsing or the other members of the Order of Saint Ignatius who had studied these creatures. But Hollister knew there were more Archaics in this town than the dozen or so Shaniah somehow held in check.
In fact he was sure they were being watched. It was the same feeling he’d had in the army. He could remember riding the plains with the army, chasing Sioux or Cheyenne and knowing they were out there but never seeing them. It was unsettling.
He took his eyes off the drama up the street and studied the buildings, the alleys, the hiding spots, but he saw nothing.
“Chee?” he said.
“Yes, Major, I feel it too. She has done something to capture their attention and though we can’t see them, I have a feeling we are surrounded.”
“Well, shit, Chee, that ain’t comforting at all. How many rounds you got left?”
“Forty-seven,” he replied.
“Forty-seven. You’re sure. Not fifty-two or forty-three? Forty-seven on the dot?” Hollister asked, unsure if the younger man was pulling his leg.
“I like to keep track of my ammo, sir,” he said. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Hollister just shook his head, checking the loads in both of his pistols. He made a vow to himself that if he survived this, if he ever faced these creatures again, he would arm himself with far more than two Colts and a knife. Perhaps a pistol in each boot, a rifle and shotgun for his back. A sword. And maybe a cannon, if he could figure out a way to carry it.
“Well, Sergeant, I can tell you I have considerably less than forty-seven rounds, but I don’t know exactly. And I thought I left the train with plenty of ammunition. I guess from now on, we need to make every shot count.”
“Yes, sir,” Chee said.
Their attention went back to the street. Something was happening.
S haniah stood her ground. She could not back up, shift her feet, or move in a way that showed any weakness. The Archaics were getting restless. She wasn’t sure where the attack would come from, but a big burly man stood out from the rest. He wore a leather apron, what was left of it, torn and covered in blood, and Shaniah guessed he might have been a blacksmith. Where the others had begun to fidget and prance back and forth, wild
