snapping jaws. Three of the five Half Breeds veered off to chase her, while the others charged at the truck. Once they got a healthier whiff of the bait Paige had applied to the pickup, they became so anxious to chase it that their paws slid against the gritty street in their haste to circle around it.
By the time they made it to South Kentucky Avenue, Al had quite the following. Half Breeds relentlessly pursued the pickup, sideswiping telephone poles and streetlights in their haste to try and keep up with his erratic driving. More werewolves joined them as the main group fanned out and put some real steam into their strides in an effort to catch up.
“I think maybe you didn’t think this through,” Milosh said.
Paige held her Beretta in one hand and one of Bill’s .45s in the other. “Then why did you follow me?”
“At this point,” he said while waving his stump at her, “there’s not much else to lose.”
She waved her scarred and nearly petrified right arm at him and said, “I know how you feel. Since you seem to be doing just fine, stop your bitching and start shooting some of these things.” Leading by example, she turned to point both pistols over the side of the truck and pulled the triggers.
Milosh’s left stump had been cleaned and redressed by one of the Mongrels. There was always a medic in their packs, along with other vital members of a traveling community, including trackers and diggers. The only reason he was up and conscious was because of the Amriany healing serums that had been pumped into him. Paige knew he was going to crash and crash hard when the initial buzz wore off. If they were alive for that moment, she would be more than happy to crash along with him. For now, Milosh gripped one of Al’s hunting rifles and used his stump to steady the barrel. The Covid Accura .50 caliber fit snugly against his shoulder and made a satisfying crack as it went off. Even more satisfying was the sight of a Half Breed stumbling and rolling into the werewolf beside it as the round caught it low in its chest.
“Feeling better now?” Paige asked while pressing her side against the truck bed in order to fire three quick shots from the Beretta.
The Amriany nodded and showed her a wide, toothy grin. “This is the perfect cure. A little hair of the dog that bit me, no?”
“And then some. Watch your right.”
Milosh shifted his aim in that direction to find another group of Half Breeds charging down Sixth Street and skidding around the corner to fall into step with some of the others. His rifle sent a few carefully placed .50 caliber rounds into the front of the group. Between thundering shots he shouted, “I like this gun!”
Paige chuckled at his enthusiasm and took a few shots of her own. When the Beretta ran dry, she placed it under her foot and switched the .45 into her right hand. Half Breeds were closing in, despite the gunfire being thrown at them. They were only prevented from overtaking the truck by the sharp turns Al took and their own tendency to get in each other’s way in their haste to follow the malodorous bait. Once the Half Breeds had the scent in their nostrils, they would keep coming at them even if they lost a limb or two.
When her .45 ran dry, Paige reloaded both guns using spare magazines she’d prepared and tucked into her pockets back at the paint store. On many occasions, she and Cole had argued about gripping a pistol in each hand and firing away. He called it dual-wielding. She called it a great way to waste a lot of ammo without hitting much of anything. His defense boiled down to how cool it looked. Paige had to admit, when she fired both pistols at the werewolves that were now close enough to scrape their tusks against the side of the truck, she did feel pretty cool.
The guns bucked against her burning palms, spitting point-blank fire at the werewolves. When one Half Breed took a round in the face, it fell behind so another could charge forward and take its place. The motion of the truck and the constantly changing field of targets made it difficult to hit her mark every time, but even the misses did some damage as they ricocheted off the street and into another warm body.