Even as Bill reached into the bag at his side, his flesh rippled, the fur pushed through from below, and his bones stretched. It happened in three seconds.
In that time, he'd pulled the pins on two more grenades and tossed them into the open corridor of the police station.
“Ah, Jesus, the whole building - " Tackett began.
The explosion cut him off, a double-thump that shattered walls and cut the number of Prowlers down further.
“Now!" Jack shouted, throat dry, blood pumping hard. His whole body felt hot, as though the sun burned him.
But it was the darkest of nights.
Bill Cantwell let loose the animal in his soul. This was what he was. What he was always meant to be. Peace was what he wanted, but he would bathe in the blood of his enemies if they would not leave him to that peace.
With a howl that made him shiver with pleasure, Bill led the way into the ruined station house. He leaped over the rubble, with Tackett close behind him. The sheriff was shouting something, but Bill was not listening. He snarled a challenge in the oldest language on earth, a guttural, primeval voice that came up from deep within him.
The first of the Prowlers to attack him was a simple thing, already injured. Bill broke his neck with a quick twist. Others appeared in the hall. Tackett fired a burst from the assault rifle and three of them did a death dance and tumbled to the floor, bleeding out. Bill tried to figure how many were left.
Ten?
Fewer?
From a side corridor, one of them lunged at him, got a claw across his ribcage, and Bill hissed with the pain of it. He slammed the beast into the wall hard enough to shake plaster loose, but the Prowler came back at him immediately. He was strong.
Behind him, another went for Tackett. The sheriff tried to shoot at him, but the clip jammed in the assault rifle. Tackett jammed the weapon into the beast's face and the thing lashed out at him. Claws raked the side of the sheriff 's head, drawing blood, and Tackett staggered back against the wall.
Bill tore open the chest of his attacker, then went to Tackett's aid. He got there just in time, got his claws under the creature's jaw and tore his head right off his body with a grinding of bone and a thick, wet, tearing sound of tendons and muscles and skin being rent.
He glanced back at Tackett. The sheriff held a hand to one side of his skull, blood seeping between his fingers.
“Can you keep up?" Bill asked.
“I'll have to," Tackett replied.
“Stick with me then."
Jack ran up behind Bill and fired at several more approaching figures. He saw Tackett's bloody scalp and cursed loudly.
Molly pumped the shotgun and waited.
The figures disappeared back up the hall.
“Follow them. We're going to end this!" Jack roared.
Bill careened down the corridor ahead of them, toward the sheriff 's office where it had all begun. Tackett followed, hand still clapped to his head. As he and Molly followed, weapons at the ready, Jack reminded himself that scalp wounds were supposed to bleed a lot, but he was concerned for Tackett regardless.
Bill was much faster than they were, and he reached the office first. When he came even with the door and turned to go in, the Alpha was waiting for him.
Henry Lemoine, lord of this Prowler pack, surged from the open doorway with his claws slashing down, and ripped bleeding furrows in Bill's chest.
Bill cried out in pain, voice sounding almost human. Tackett staggered back and away from them, swearing angrily at his own uselessness.
Tackett was out of the way, leaning on the wall, but the Alpha was too close to Bill for Jack to get a clear shot at him.
“Watch it!" Molly shouted.
Jack looked up even as she pulled the trigger. It stopped one Prowler cold but before she could even begin to pump the shotgun again, five of them were rushing from the room.
Bill and the Alpha continued to snarl and slash at each other, in a tussle on the floor. Molly tried to pump the shotgun and one of the Prowlers lunged at her.
Tackett grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the way. The monster slammed hard into the wall on the other side of the corridor. Then Jack was with them, propelling Tackett and Molly along, the soles of their shoes slapping loudly on the floor as they ran down the hall toward the rear of the station, where the cells were. Tackett's blood was dripping, leaving a trail behind them.
“We can't leave Bill behind!" Molly shrieked.
With a backward glance, Jack saw that all the others were following them. They had left Bill to the Alpha, confident in their leader's strength. He only prayed that they were wrong.
“No choice!" he told her. “Tackett, tell me you've got your keys!"
The sheriff glanced at him, one side of his head matted with blood. Understanding dawned on his face, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.
Jack snatched them out of his hand.
“Molly, help him!"
Jack ran on, just ahead of them. At the end of the hall, he skidded on the linoleum as he raced around the corner, and saw the long line of jail cells. Even in those desperate seconds, his mind had been scrambling for a plan, a way to get out of this alive. The cells were their last chance.
He worked the keys in the lock of the first cell. When he hit the third key, Molly and Tackett stumbled up. The sheriff looked pale and shaky. The fourth key turned in the lock and Jack hauled the cell door open.
“In there!"
The Prowlers roared and loped along the hall toward them. Jack fired one shot
