Running with Rogues

I didn't slow as I approached the cabin. Not until I was skidding on the paving stones. The wolves out front were already occupied, and not one of them noticed me. They were gathered around a single rogue. Whoever it was ... they were giving as good as they were getting, even outnumbered ten to one. The flockies looked like they were being cautious.

Whoever it was? I knew who it was. Bryn was the only person at the cabin who stood any chance of defending himself against trained fighters. He would have to manage for a few minutes longer.

I passed Sam, who was a bloody mess on the floor. Someone had ripped into his neck and shoulder. He hadn't even got a chance to shift. The cabin door was wide open behind him, and I went straight through it, because that was where the kids would be.

The inside was gloomy. I didn't have the luxury of waiting for my eyes to adjust, and one of them was still obscured by blood, but I could see that there were several wolves inside tearing each other apart.

There wasn't time to tell friend from foe, but given that the closest wolf had clamped his jaws around a pup, I reckoned it was safe to say that he was a flockie. I ripped him backwards with all of my strength and then latched my teeth around his spine, biting down until I felt vertebrae cracking beneath my jaws.

He went still. Or still enough, anyway. I didn't have time to wait for him to die properly because there was a second flockie in the room, and he had my little brother backed up into a corner.

I snapped at his tail, knowing it was the fastest way to make him turn. He dropped Ellis in a heartbeat in favour of the newer, bigger opponent. Children could be killed at leisure. I, on the other hand, was a threat.

Being short could sometimes have its advantages in wolf form. I lunged as he turned towards me, and my jaws were the same height as his throat, so it wasn't difficult to latch hold of it. It wasn't as clean as it could have been. I had his trachea, not any of the major blood vessels. But he was choking before long, and I felt safe enough to drop him on the floor.

Ellis rolled onto his feet - more indignant than injured. I licked at his muzzle and then turned to check that there were no more flockies. We were safe. For now. But I couldn't stay here and look after them. Not while my family were dying outside.

A quick scan of the room showed me that the flockies had not been idle. Matty lay across the threshold, his breaths coming in wet gasps. He couldn't control his shift yet, so he had faced them in human form, and he had paid for it dearly. There was too much blood soaking his shirt.

Ahmed's tiny wolf was panting and extracting himself from under the first flockie I'd killed. Injured but not dying. Jess was standing with a kitchen knife clutched in her tiny little hand, watching me with big, hazel eyes. She was fine.

But Poppy lay sprawled out beside the table. Utterly still. I couldn't even see her chest rising and falling, and it opened up a gaping chasm of fear in my stomach.

No time to check on her. No time to do anything. Bryn was outside.

"Latch the door behind me," I told them all through the link, "and don't open it for anyone."

Ellis nodded at me. The pack wolves were all shifted, which was a blessing, because none of them would have hands to open the door. I checked that the flockies were properly incapacitated - and sure enough, neither of them was moving much - and then I went back outside.

And was greeted by the sound of gunshots.

It was bright. I felt like I was walking blind into a mosh-pit of certain death, and ... well, that was exactly what I was doing. Before I'd gone three feet, I slammed into one of the wolves surrounding Bryn and entered into a grappling contest which would end with one of us dead.