Gail retched a couple more times and then had dry heaves for a minute. Finally, she straightened. She pinched one side of her nostril and blew blood and junk onto the floor. She switched sides and repeated the movement before wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. I released her hair and took out my handkerchief. She stood still while I wiped around her mouth, then switched to a clean side and wiped around her eyes and nostrils.
“Thanks, Jesse. I appreciate it.”
I eyed the handkerchief and then tossed it onto the floor. “What are partners for?”
“Do you still have that flask?” she asked.
I knelt beside my backpack and unzipped a side pocket. I slid out the stainless steel flask and shook it. It was at least half-full. Standing, I unscrewed the top and passed it to Gail. She took a swig, swirled it around in her mouth, and then spit it against the wall, leaving a red stain that slowly ran down the wall. She took another swig, deeper this time, and swallowed.
Passing the flask back to me, Gail said, “Thanks again, Hoss.”
“De nada.” I licked my lips and tasted my own puke. I brought the flask to my lips and swallowed what remained. I stored the flask in a pocket. Then I slung my backpack and picked up Gail’s and hung it from my left shoulder again. Finally, I retrieved the shotguns. Gail sat on the floor and slipped on her socks and boots. They were the only clean things on her, but when she stood, more blood dripped from her tattered pants onto the boot’s leather.
I passed her the double barrel and then leaned close and kissed her. She responded passionately and I knew everything was going to work out, one way or the other.
She took some more shells from my pocket and replaced the five rounds in the stock shotshell holder. She dropped the five steel and salt rounds into her backpack and then met my gaze.
“All set?” I asked. She nodded. “Come on, there are stairs on the other side of the elevator.”
“Sure, right behind you, Hoss.”
I trotted down the hallway, avoiding the bodies and pools of blood, and fed a few more rounds of silver buckshot into the shotgun. We passed the elevator and about twenty feet later came to an open stairway. I paused at the bottom and listened. Gail nudged me onwards. Right, werewolf hearing.
I took the steps one at a time, but at a run. There were nine risers and then a landing, nine more risers, and the stairs stopped in front of a door. I halted at the door and gave Gail a chance to indicate it was clear. She did and I pushed through the door.
We came out in the back hallway, as I remembered the blueprints, the hallways met in the back of the house, near the elevator. I looked right and saw a turn in the hallway.
“Which way?” Gail whispered.
“The library is that way. Our pistols were in there and I’d like mine back,” I said.
“Me too, lead the way.”
I eased down the hardwood floor, trying to be quiet, but knowing it wouldn’t do much good if the others had turned furry. I figured they’d easily hear me coming and also that their sense of smell was probably better than their hearing.
I took a quick peak around the corner. The front hallway was empty and the library door stood open. With the shotgun at the ready, I jogged forward. We stopped again at the open door, and a quick look inside showed there was no one there, at least not living.
Two bodies lay in front of the bar. I didn’t have to get closer to know that Nichols and Robbins had had their throats ripped out. Hell, nothing was working out the way it was supposed to. We were the good guys. We were supposed to save the innocents from these damn werewolves.
Our guns were still on the mantel. I motioned for Gail to watch the door while I quickly retrieved them. I returned and gave Gail her Colt. It was easy to tell hers from mine. She and her father had given the Colt a well-used patina while mine was fresh out of the box.
Leaning the pump shotgun against the wall, I ejected the round in the magazine, just to make sure it was loaded. Gail handed me the double barrel and then did the same before holstering her pistol. I gave her the shotgun back, holstered my Colt, and picked up the guard’s pump action shotgun.
“Now what?” I asked. “We didn’t manage to save either one of the professors.”
Gail holstered her Colt and frowned evilly. “Now we find that bastard Montgomery and whatever is left of his pack and make sure they don’t kill anyone else.”
Behind Gail, the air shimmered, going foggy in an area the size of a man, and the specter appeared in the corridor a few yards behind her.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
Gail turned and saw the specter. “Hell, we have more important things to take care of.”
The specter watched for a couple of seconds and then it beckoned toward us. Without waiting, it turned and drifted around the corner.
I looked at Gail. “Is this normal?”
“For specters?” she shrugged. “Sometimes, but not often.”
“So, should we ignore it or follow?” I asked.
“Seeing as how it showed you something useful the last time it appeared, I’d say follow it.”
“Okay.” I hurried down the hallway, rounded the corner, and saw the specter standing in front of a door at the opposite end of the hall. With Gail at my heels, I quick-timed to the specter. It waited until I arrived, pointed at the door, and then walked through it.
I tried the door; it was unlocked. Gail readied her shotgun and I pulled
