Adderson drew a breath and held it as he thought about the last time he’d seen the commanding officer of Hunter Four. Mark Jones had bought a round of drinks and charged it to the federal account under Essential Provisions. Adderson had promised to buy the next round. “We can’t pull back, sir,” he said. “These Class Ones are smart and they’re getting braver. This one’s staying in Shreveport just because it can.”
“Come again?”
“We’ve tracked its heat signature and it hasn’t been searching any particular part of town, chasing any specific scouting unit, or even tearing into a specific batch of civvies. It’s just pacing, sir.”
After a pause, the voice on the other end of the radio asked, “Pacing? What the hell does that even mean?”
“Just like I said. It’s circling the city, keeping out of our range, turning us at random intervals and engaging whenever it feels like it. Some of this is a judgment call on my part, but I’ve engaged enough of these things to know when they’re trying to wipe us out or hit a particular target. This one’s just staying here because it knows it can. I think it’s trying to turn the entire city to add more wolves to the outbreak.”
“Jesus Christ. Have you taken losses?”
“Some of my men were turned by the last howl, but it’s still random. The Class Twos that were made will attack more targets who will either be killed or turned.” Steeling himself, Adderson said, “It’s only a matter of time before it gets every human being in Shreveport.”
“That’s what our analysts say. This problem is spreading exponentially across the globe, which is why I’m recalling you, Major. I can’t afford to lose another Hunter platoon. Especially not yours.”
“Have the tech crews come up with anything better to fight these things?”
“The specialists left us some of those Snapper rounds, but they’re a bitch to manufacture on a large scale. We’ve already allocated all of those Silver Bullet rounds to the Hunter platoons, and whatever that stuff is that’s attached to those rounds, the specialists either don’t have any more or aren’t willing to share.”
“So that’s a negative on new equipment,” Adderson stated.
“For now. Do you have an ETA on when those specialists will be returning?” When Adderson didn’t respond right away, the next question was, “Are the specialists returning?”
“With or without them, we can’t afford to retreat now,” Adderson said.
“You have your orders, Major. This isn’t a discussion.”
“This Class One isn’t just an animal, sir. It’s watching, and we have to assume that it’ll tell the other Class Ones what it sees here today. If I pull my men out of here, we not only lose Shreveport and take more civilian casualties, but we add to the number of wolves out there. On top of all that, we’re sending a very dangerous message to everyone watching.”
“That’s what the press is for. They can spin it however we need them to.”
“The press doesn’t see how many homes my men and I have found that are filled with families who’ve committed mass suicide to get out of this godforsaken hell. Or how many have gotten themselves killed because they went out to fight a pack of Class Twos with nothing but shotguns or fucking .22s. Or how many are dropped from friendly fire because they’re caught outside after the damn sirens have been going for hours on end!” With every word that came out of his mouth, Adderson gripped his radio tighter. “People need to see that we’re fighting so they don’t give up. They need to see we’re pulling our weight so they keep their heads down and let us do our jobs. They need to know we’re doing everything possible to win this without the reports being some DC-spun bullshit.
“The last intelligence reports I saw showed a three hundred percent spike in shifter activity worldwide,” he continued. “The least we can do is provide an example of how to fight these things instead of showing CNN a good picture of us retreating every time a Class One decides to step up to us. But the most important thing we need to do is show those Full Bloods that they fucked up by sticking their noses out of the forests in the first place.”
Notably more weary than it had been a moment ago, the voice on the radio said, “We can’t afford to lose you or your team. You’ve been out there the longest, so you’ve got to know how important it is for the IRD to establish an upper hierarchy among its own ranks.”
“I have been out here since the jump, which is how I know we’re losing this fight and will take even heavier losses once these things smell weakness. They already think they can grind us into the dirt. They’ve been doing it. The only way to slow the bleeding is to let them know we won’t just hand over our cities to the bastards that roar the loudest. Maybe we don’t take Shreveport back, but committing to a fight here and now will at least make the Class Ones take a moment to think before going after the next city. We might even buy enough time for the tech division or our specialists to put together something that’ll make a difference. Bottom line is that retreating from here will only increase the Class Two population, and we can’t afford that.”
As the man at the other end of the connection chewed on those words, Adderson motioned for his surviving soldiers to load into the Humvees. Finally, the man asked, “You’re not even waiting for me to agree, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ll want full status reports every step of the way.”
“Will do.”
“And Major . . .”
Adderson stopped what he was doing and listened carefully even though he had a pretty good idea what was coming. “Yes sir?”
“Look forward to a court-martial in your future. You’re not the only one that needs to discourage certain behaviors in the field.”
“I understand, sir. Any chance I can expect reinforcements?”
“Everything I can spare and then some. Duck Blind out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
They’d driven north using whatever roads they could find after leaving Hungary. Judging by the ease at which the Amriany made the crossing, the guards who’d checked their paperwork were accustomed to letting them pass no matter what they were carrying or who was with them. Paige and Cole weren’t surprised by that, since Skinners knew plenty of officials at various U.S. borders who were sympathetic to the cause after a near miss involving some supernatural creature or another.
Almost immediately after driving into Slovakia, the weather felt colder. Other motorists were more difficult to find and signs of life in the buildings they passed was hit and miss. Cole hadn’t seen many Half Breeds in the fields or gargoyles in the skies, but the fear he felt in the few people they did find as well as the strange statues he spotted along the side of the road were evidence that it hadn’t been long since they were visited by either of those creatures.
After covering over fifty miles of nondescript highway, the view from Cole’s window shifted to a wall of dead browns and dirty whites. There was just enough snow on the ground for it to have fallen anywhere from a day to a month ago. The trees were tall and close together, giving the area a stark, lonely quality. After another fifty miles or so, the trees formed walls on either side of the road, and the few buildings they passed were either dark or completely boarded up. “What’s the deal with this place?” he asked. “Does anyone live here?”
“This village was abandoned a year ago,” Nadya replied. “Werewolf attacks.”
“A year ago? Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
“They’ve been saying it for generations. Nobody listens. Now, their complaints don’t matter. Once the gargoyles were stirred up, it’s become difficult for anyone to live here.”
“I saw a few lights on back there,” Paige said. “Must be some people sticking it out.”
“Cheap rent,” Nadya said with a shrug. “Times are hard.”
They continued driving. Eventually the road became a dirt path and then a set of shallow ruts. By then all traces of civilization were far behind them. In those surroundings, it seemed strange to Cole that Nadya was on a cell phone. The sight of her speaking to the little device appeared as out of place as a television set in an Old West
