Dead Flesh (31 page)

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Authors: Tim O'Rourke

Tags: #young adult, #vampires, #diaries, #werewolf, #horror, #potter, #vampire, #romance, #fantasy, #werewolves, #tim orourke, #kiera hudson

BOOK: Dead Flesh
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The young girl
stood rooted to the spot and watched as Potter sunk his fangs into
what was left of the wolf’s giant head. Then, as if in the early
stages of throwing a fit, the girl began to shake all over in
fright. Her mouth dropped open and she began to scream. Potter
snapped his head up and looked at the girl. With blood smeared
around his mouth and stringy pieces of flesh hanging from his
fangs, he said to the girl, “If I were you, sweetheart, I’d get out
of here before this turns nasty.”

How much
nastier Potter intended this rescue to become, I dared not imagine,
but heeding his warning, the girl turned on her heels, and
screaming, she fled the chapel. With her cries fading into the
distance, Potter stood and wiped the blood from his mouth with his
forearm.

Catching me
staring at him, he looked at me and said, “What?”

“Nothing,” I
said back and turned to look at Isidor, who was now firing wave
after wave of stakes into the flashing darkness. The sound of
howling nearly drowned out the song
The
Time
by The Black Eyed Peas, which was now thundering
throughout the chapel. Then, from within the darkness, I saw a
series of bright yellow lights begin to flash. It took me a moment
to realise that it wasn’t part of the strobe lighting that I could
see, but the burning eyes of the wolves as they came towards
us.

“I’m going to
get Kayla,” Isidor shouted over the pumping music and the snarling
that was now coming from the approaching wolves.

Before I had a
chance to say anything, Isidor was leaping and spinning over the
heads of the wolves and releasing a volley of stakes into them. The
wolves raised their colossal heads and gnashed their foaming jaws
at him. But Isidor was too quick for them, and their jaws crunched
down on nothing more than air. Some turned to go after him, but the
main pack fixed their crazy yellow eyes on Potter and me and
charged us.

“Ready,
sweetcheeks?” Potter grinned at me, and just like the words in The
Black Eyed Peas song that was playing, he looked as if he was
having the time of his life. Then he was gone, launching himself
through the air at the wolves. His arms moved so fast that they
were nothing more than a blur of movement. Fur and chunks of wolf
flesh spattered the walls, ceiling, and floor of the chapel.

I watched
several of the wolves bound towards Potter, knocking him off his
feet and sending him skidding on his back across the dance floor.
And in the strobe lights that continued to pulse and flash all
around us, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I watched as
Potter disappeared beneath a mountain of fur and muscle, and I shot
through the air, fangs and claws gleaming.

My razor-sharp
fingernails sliced in the flanks of a wolf, and as I felt it spasm
beneath me, it snapped its giant head around to see who or what was
on it. With its teeth just inches from my face, it gnashed at me.
Jerking my head backwards, I buried my free claw into one of its
massive eyeballs. Something close to puss burst from its eye socket
and splashed me. It felt warm and sticky against my face. I ripped
my other claw from its belly, dragging my nails in a zigzag motion
so the wound could never be closed. The wolf shrieked and convulsed
as its entrails spilled from the ragged hole that I had cut in it.
Within seconds the wolf lay motionless, its giant pink tongue
lolling from between its jaws. I stood up,then was swiped sideways
across the chapel. I crashed into the far wall, splinters of wood
showering through the air. I rolled onto my back as a huge black
wolf leapt on me. Pinning me down with his giant paws, it looked
into my face with its seething eyes.

“Who are you?”
the wolf roared over the music, the sounds of ripping, tearing, and
howling now seemed louder than the music. “What sort of creature
are you?”

I tried
wriggling free of him, but he was so heavy that I found it
difficult to breathe, let alone move.

“How dare you
interrupt my ceremony!” he howled into my face, his breath so hot,
that it felt as if I were staring into a furnace.

“You call
stealing the souls of children a ceremony?” I spat.

“Do you not
know who I am?” he roared. “I’m McCain, the Match Maker.”

Realising who
it was beneath the fur and remembering how he had ripped Emily
Clarke to pieces, I knew that I was in trouble. I could fight back,
but I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted McCain alive, but I doubted
he felt the same way about me.

“You’re nothing
but a murderer, McCain, and I’m gonna prove it,” I screamed at him.
“I’m gonna bring your whole world down around you. I’m going to
make sure that you never hurt another child again!”

“And how are
you going to do that when you’re dead?” he woofed, then licked the
length of my face.

With his
whiskered snout so close to my face, I lifted my head off the dance
floor and whispered in his ear. “I’m dead already.”

Then, I sunk my
fangs into him.

 

Chapter Forty-Three

 

Kayla

 

It was like I
was coming awake after an operation. The wolf had been staring into
my eyes one minute, then she was gone, howling and flying back
across the chapel. The wolf, Lola, seemed to be in my head as she
had stared into my eyes. I could hear her breathing and a sound
that I hadn’t heard inside me for a long time – the sound of a
beating heart. Lola had been matching with me. But something had
stopped her before the process had been complete. I looked up, and
through the flashing lights I could see someone or something
spinning through the air towards me. At first I thought it was a
wolf, but the figure coming towards me was too agile. They moved
with lighting speed as they fired...fired their crossbow.

“Isidor!” I
screamed, feeling as if I was going to explode with happiness. I
watched him spin through the air like some freaky trapeze artist as
he rained down stakes on the wolves that leapt into the air after
him. The wolves he hit flew backwards, their claws scraping against
the wooden dance floor.

“Kayla!”
someone shouted, and I spun round to see Sam being pinned to the
floor by a silver-haired wolf. Its face was just inches from Sam’s,
and a glistening line of drool swung from its foaming jaws and
spattered against his face. “Kayla!” Sam screamed again, and then
fell silent.

I raced across
the dance floor, my claws out. But as I made my way towards Sam, I
watched as the wolf’s eyes began to light up like two burning pits.
Sam’s face glowed yellow beneath their stare. My friend stared back
into the eyes of the wolf and then something strange started to
happen. I had seen a lot of things in my young life, but nothing so
freaking weird as what I was now witnessing. Sam’s face seemed to
be stretching upwards, like it was made of putty. It was like the
wolf was pulling his face off with his eyes. I watched as Sam’s
face almost seemed to wrap around the wolf’s head like a mask. With
my blood turning ice cold inside of me, I knew that the wolf had
started to match with Sam.

“No!” I
screamed, leaping into the air. My wings shot from my back, as I
rocketed down on top of the wolf. I sank my claws into its meaty
neck and yanked backwards. Looking down, I could see Sam’s face
stretching like a latex mask.

“You won’t take
my friend,” I screeched into the wolf’s pointed ear. “Release
him.”

With all my
strength, I wrenched backwards again. Then, flapping my wings
furiously, I lifted the wolf off the floor. But Sam came with him,
swinging by his face from beneath the wolf. Their faces were now
joined together and I feared that it was too late to stop them
matching.

Isidor swept
past me and I screamed at him. “Isidor, help me. The wolf has got
Sam!”

With crossbow
in hand, Isidor flipped backwards, releasing two stakes which
buried themselves into the eyes of the wolf. The beast shuddered
beneath me, then, let out an agonising howl. Its eyes ran like
liquid from their sockets and it looked like custard. For a moment,
I thought I was gonna puke as the smell was disgusting - like
rotten eggs. With its eyes dribbling across its snout, the spell
that it had cast over Sam was broken and he fell to the floor. I
released the wolf. It staggered onto all fours, its giant tail
swishing to and fro in a frenzy. Blind, the wolf didn’t know which
way to go. It howled, then dropped to the floor, a wooden stake
sticking out from the back of its skull.

I dropped to
the floor and knelt beside Sam. He didn’t move. “Sam!” I shouted,
and shook his shoulders. In the sparks of light that still flashed
on and off around us, I looked at Sam’s face. It was swollen like a
bruised melon. It was so puffy that I could barely see his face.
His eyes were swollen shut and his lips were purple.

“Is he dead?”
Isidor shouted over the music.

“No, I can hear
his heartbeat,” I told him, taking one of Sam’s hands in my
claw.

“He should be
safe now,” Isidor said. “I think Potter is making light work of
the...”

“Potter’s with
you?” I gasped, looking up at him. “Where’s Kiera?”

“Under that
wolf,” Isidor said, pointing across the dance floor.

“Go and help
her and I’ll get Sam out of here,” I said, lifting him into my
arms.

“You can’t
bring him with us, Kayla,” Isidor warned me. “He’s human.”

“I’m not
leaving him here,” I said. “Sam is my friend.”

“Potter isn’t
going to like it,” Isidor smiled, then winked at me.

“That should
make you happy then,” I smiled back at him, as I carried Sam in my
arms across the dance floor.

 

Chapter Forty-Four

 

Kiera

 

McCain roared
in pain as I sunk my fangs into his shoulder like a set of knives.
He twisted above me as he tried to shake me off, but I clamped my
jaws down hard. He swiped at me with his paws and missed. This
seemed to heighten his anger and he bellowed in rage. I didn’t know
for how much longer I could keep hold of him. I knew that as soon
as I released him, he would rip my head off and that would really
kill me. I doubted that the Elders would give me another chance –
and if I were honest with myself – I wouldn’t have wanted one. The
next time I died, I wanted to stay dead – just not yet.

With the
muscles in my jaw beginning to ache, I knew that it would only be
moments before I lost my hold on him. Then, from the corner of my
eye I saw Isidor sweeping across the hall, his crossbow trained on
McCain. If he fired, I knew that McCain would be dead and I didn’t
want that. So, removing my fangs from McCain’s shoulder, I
screamed, “No, Isidor. Don’t kill him!”

McCain seized
his chance and lunged at my face, his teeth like spikes. I shut my
eyes and waited for the pain, but it never came. Suddenly, I felt
weightless as I was dragged out from beneath the wolf and thrown
backwards through the air. Without having to even think about it,
my wings sprung open, those little black claws opening and closing,
as if glad to be free again. Hovering in the air, I looked down to
see that it was Potter who had yanked me from beneath McCain. In
the flashes of light, Potter seemed to flit to and fro around
McCain. I could see that his chest looked like it had been almost
ripped to pieces. He was soaked in blood and his wings looked as if
Edward Scissorhands had been at him. But still he didn’t stop
fighting with the last remaining wolves. His arms worked like
pistons as he punched, swiped, and stabbed at the wolves that
lunged for him.

From above, I
watched as one of the wolves, that just moments ago looked as if it
was dead, scrambled back to its feet and raced across the chapel
towards Potter. With my wings pointed behind me, I dropped through
the air like a stone. When I was within reaching distance, I raked
my claws down the length of the wolf’s back, removing a ragged flap
of fur-covered flesh. I spun away, and glancing back over my
shoulder, I could see the wolf’s spine and ribcage glistening wetly
up at me. Then, the wolf collapsed, as if its legs had just been
kicked from beneath it.

Spinning around
amongst the wood beams that held the ceiling together, I looked
down to see McCain roll over onto his paws. He spotted Isidor and
bounded towards him. Isidor instinctively raised his crossbow.
Then, as if remembering that I’d told him not to kill McCain, he
lowered it again. In that moment of hesitation, McCain was on him.
With one mighty swipe, McCain knocked him from his feet and sent
Isidor smashing into the chapel wall. The whole building shook,
sending dirt and dust showering down from the beams above me.
Stunned, Isidor slid down the wall and onto the floor as McCain
smothered him. I shot down and arrived on the floor just as Potter
saw the trouble Isidor was in. Within an instant, he was on McCain,
who had opened a hole in Isidor’s chest with one of his giant
claws. Isidor cried out and dropped to the floor, blood pumping
from him.

Potter looked
down at Isidor as he lay bleeding. Looking at McCain, Potter shook
his head, and said, “Big mistake. The kid’s my friend.” Then, he
went berserk.

As a wolf,
McCain was a giant, as big as a bear. His head sat between two
colossal shoulders that rippled with muscle. His eyes seared like
two burning moons in his skull. His gaping jaws hung open,
revealing his blood-stained teeth. Potter launched himself at
McCain with such ferocity that the wolf flew backwards through the
air. Before McCain had even landed, Potter was racing towards him
with his tattered wings. He grabbed hold of McCain in mid-air and
spun around. The wolf’s long, bushy tail whisked upwards as if
trying to knock Potter free of him. He rolled his head back, his
ferocious teeth gnashing just inches from Potter’s face.

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