“Look!” I said, pointing at a sign on the lit up building.
“‘Experimental Technologies,’” Paul read. “I wonder what that means?”
“There’s something moving inside that building,” I said, staring toward the lighted windows, feeling my flesh crawl. The strange movements were horribly familiar. Suddenly I wanted to get Paul away from there.
But Paul was already running along the fence, trying to get a better view into the low, narrow windows.
I caught up with him and we crouched on the ground, straining to see inside. The light flickered as large ugly shapes stretched and turned in front of it.
“AAAAAEEEEEEEEEE!”
“AAAAAAAOOOOOOOO!”
“EEEEEEEIIIIIII!”
Paul and I clutched at each other as a chorus of howls filled the night. We jumped at a sudden noise in a tree behind us. But it was only a bird, terrified out of its nest. It flew away, squawking.
The horrible howling went on, eating into our brains and numbing our ears. “It’s them, isn’t it?” whispered Paul, his voice quaking. “The werewolves.”
I could only nod in the dark. The savage, gleeful howling called to something deep inside me. It was a cry for blood. My stomach churned.
And then suddenly the chorus of howls changed. I jumped to my feet.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
It was so loud and high-pitched my eardrums throbbed in pain. I had to shout to be heard over the howling. “Come on!” I yelled. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
But Paul didn’t move. I grabbed his shoulder and it was like grasping wood. He was paralyzed.
“Paul!” I screamed.
A door in the building opened. A pack of snarling werewolves boiled into the night. Searching for darkness—and for us.
“They’ve sensed us, Paul,” I shouted, tugging at him. “They know we’re here and they’re coming to get us. Paul!”
Chapter 17
With strength I didn’t know I had, I jerked Paul to his feet and began to drag him after me.
Glancing back I saw a mob of snarling werewolves leaping after us, eyes burning like hot coals, fangs glistening in the night. Puffs of vile steam rose into the air where their slobber dripped onto the ground.
Paul moaned in horrified fear. But he got his feet working under him. We raced for the wooded hillside below, hoping to lose the monsters in the trees. But I knew they could sniff us out. They could outrun us, too.
“They’re gaining,” Paul panted. “We’ll never make it!”
Over my shoulder I saw what seemed like thousands of glowing red eyes, hot with the joy of the hunt. Getting closer, closer.
“We’ll get you now, Gruff,” rasped a voice inside my head. “You and your little friend, too.” The monster let out a burst of evil laughter that seemed to split my skull. Paul couldn’t hear any of that—only another werewolf can understand a werewolf thought-message.
We reached the trees. “Maybe—if we—climbed a—tree,” panted Paul, his voice ragged from lack of breath.
“No good,” I said grimly, my lungs burning. “Werewolves can jump higher than we can climb. Keep running. Our only hope is to reach town!”
Paul didn’t question how I came to know so much about monsters. He just ran. But it was hopeless. Behind us the werewolves had fanned out and were coming at us from several directions at once. We were exhausted. Twigs whipped at our faces and brambles snagged our clothes.
I knew the werewolves could see us and smell us. They could have had us by now but they were toying with us, making a game out of it.
At that moment, I wished it was a full moon night. If I had my werewolf powers I could carry Paul right out of here. I was a match for any of them, when the moon was full.
But tonight I was just a puny human.
Suddenly I had a thought. Words from the werewolf book appeared in my mind clear as day. I didn’t know if it would work but running wasn’t any use. I had to try my new knowledge—or die trying.
Chapter 18
“Go this way, Paul,” I cried, my chest heaving with effort. “We’ve got to get to the pond! It’s our only hope!”
“Huh?” But Paul knew better than to wait for an explanation. We raced through the trees, stumbling over roots and dodging werewolves who howled with evil glee, playing with their prey.
My legs felt like rubber and my lungs were on fire. I began to be afraid we wouldn’t make it as far as the pond. Werewolf laughter screamed inside my head.
“Your time has come, Gruff!” The familiar monster voice slithered inside my brain. I recognized it. It was Ripper, the leader of the werewolves, the one who had been our old principal in his human form, Mr. Clawson. The townspeople—the human townspeople—thought he had died in the woods. But he was still alive—and as evil as ever. “You should have joined us when you had the chance. Hahahaha!”
But suddenly the gloating tone of his laughter changed. The werewolf leader had realized where Paul and I were headed.
“Get them!” he screamed piercingly. “Get them NOW!”
His shriek ripped through me like a barbed spike. I stumbled and almost fell from the pain. “Faster, Paul,” I yelled. “Faster!”
All around us werewolves were howling. Closing in on us. Their feet thundered and we felt the ground shake under us. They howled for blood—our blood.
Paul whimpered. He had never heard anything more terrifying.
We had almost reached the pond. I could see the water lapping at the edge of the bank and even make out the skeleton structure of the dock. But the werewolves were gaining. Crashing through the bushes, branches breaking and torn leaves thick as rain in the air, they were right on our heels.
I put on another burst of speed although it seemed impossible. I could no longer feel my legs and the sound of my breath drowned out everything but the spine-tingling howls of the werewolves.
Then we raced out of the trees, onto the shoreline. Sand crunched under my feet. I jumped and landed on the
