As we moved through the forest I cycled my vision Augment's modes, trying to catch a glimpse of wolves tracking us. Nothing.
A faint yipping bark echoed through the trees, seeming to come from all directions. Several howls rose from the north, ahead of us. I couldn't tell if they were close or not.
"Shit," Marty said.
Marty pulled off his heavy glove and stuck his right hand into the pocket with the pistol in it. With his gloved left hand, he awkwardly chambered a round.
"If I see one I'm going to fire a warning shot. Maybe it will scare them off," he said.
Being stalked by wolves was more frightening than it should have been. I'd spent the last couple of weeks killing alien monsters in a derelict space station, after all. There was just something about their howls, the knowledge that they were out there. Something primal in my brain responded and urged me to get into shelter and light a fire to ward them off.
That wasn't an option right at the moment, so instead I unstuck my GN-75 and checked that it was ready to go. I didn't much like the idea of using the needler on a bunch of wolves just following their natures, but I'd rather it was them than me.
"Let's keep moving," I said.
We continued on and broke through the scrub into another large clearing, another lake. It was maybe twice the size of our first one, a long stretch of blank white snow before the treeline. I thought I saw movement in those trees, but cycling my vision modes, nothing stood out.
It must be my imagination.
Marty had paused when I did, looking around nervously with the pistol still gripped in his right hand. I gestured that we should continue and we jogged out onto the frozen lake.
I was constantly scanning around me the entire time, keeping my head on the metaphorical swivel. That's how I saw them when they came out of the trees.
We were nearly on the other side of the lake about twenty yards from the treeline when they emerged from the woods on our backtrail. Their natural grey-and-white coloration caused them to blend into the background of trees and snow quite well. It was only thanks to the unnatural sharpness of my Augmented vision that I picked them out. There were seven of them, of varying sizes. The one in the lead was the biggest, the alpha. Those golden eyes glinted in the setting sun as he contemplated us, his prey. I'd never thought that wolves would be scary. They were just dogs, after all, and I'd wrestled with lots of dogs. Seeing them like this, stalking me, I was no longer convinced the old me could have outwrestled one.
"Marty, it's time for that warning shot," I said.
I turned to face the oncoming pack and released the safety on the GN-75. If this didn't work and they charged us, I'd be forced to mulch them.
Marty turned too rapidly and yelped in pain as his cracked ribs made themselves known. The wolves reacted to that noise, focusing on him. Picking out the weak one in the herd.
"Jesus, they're so big!" Marty said, and raised the pistol for a warning shot.
Before Marty could fire, what felt like two hundred pounds of wolf slammed into my back. I flew forwards and fell heavily onto the snow-covered ice. Excalibur dug into my stomach as I fell on it.
Behind me Marty screamed and I heard two quick gunshots.
Powerful jaws scrabbled at the back of my neck, the impenetrable fabric of my parka's hood keeping the wolf's teeth from my flesh.
I rolled to my left, reaching up to grip the wolf by its neck and fling it across the ice. It yipped in surprise as it tumbled through the air and landed with a solid thud. I continued the roll and smoothly came up to a firing position on one knee.
Marty was screaming as a pair of wolves tried to get to his neck through the thick material of his parka and his shielding arms. One had his right wrist in its jaws and was shaking him. Blood spackled the snow nearby, and the Glock was nowhere to be seen.
I raised the GN-75 and fired, the first flight of needles tearing into the rear of the wolf trying for Marty's throat. A fine mist of blood coated the snow and ice behind it, and it sagged as nearly every organ in its torso was destroyed simultaneously. The needles were barely slowed by the wolf's flesh and dug deeply into the ice behind it.
The rest of the pack hit me like a hammer before I could kill the second wolf. They bowled me over in a wave of fur, a jaw clamping onto my right wrist while another latched onto my ankles. My shot went wide, missing the wolf still worrying Marty's wrist, impacting the ice nearby with a crackle.
The wolves' teeth were unable to penetrate my clothing, but they were doing their best to kill me even if they couldn't draw blood.
My left hand was free and I smashed my fist into the wolf hanging from my right wrist. The wolf's ribcage collapsed like a bridge made of toothpicks with a disturbing crunch. My fist left a deep indentation in its chest. The wolf yelped but hung on even as it died.
I steadied my aim with the wolf hanging off my arm through shear strength and put another flight of needles into the wolf on Marty. It slumped, the needles crackling into the ice behind it.
With a growl of anger, I threw the nearly dead wolf across the ice and kicked the other off my ankle. It yelped at my
