The Lycan Rebirth (The Flux Age Book 3) (6 page)

“What now?” Florence asked Emmaline urgently. Beyond the pair, Florence’s trainees had germed and were now pacing up and down furiously. How would they handle this live situation? Hopefully some of her training had sunk in, but the reality was they were nowhere near ready. Their only real chance was escape. In theory they would have an advantage against the aquila if the jungle canopy concealed them.

Florence made eye contact with Emmaline, who nodded and continued up the hillside. Florence and Julian took rear positions, herding the trainees and keeping a close eye on the descending aquilans. Florence saw the death squad wheel gracefully through the air, changing direction to follow them south. She unleashed a string of invective.

“Damn good eyes,” she said through gritted teeth.

“One of our strengths,” Julian agreed. The aquilan seemed horrified to be drawn into yet another conflict with his own kind. After what happened at the masquerade ball in New York, Florence had no doubt as to his loyalty. Julian had demonstrated time and again that he was wholly devoted to her. Florence had a sinking feeling his choice might grow to haunt him over the course of his life.

Risking a searching look over her shoulder, Florence yelled in alarm as several aquilans soared low over the trees behind them, guns poised.

“Emmaline!” she screamed up the hill.

The diviner made a hard right, drawing the trainees into a shadowy copse of trees. Florence and Julian followed behind as bullets rang out through the jungle. The dirt at their heels was thrown into the air but they made the cover of the overgrown jungle growth just in time.

Florence was vaguely aware of hundreds of monkeys chittering excitedly far above her as she clawed her way through the thick green undergrowth. Thinking ahead, Julian had brought a machete and began hacking a path for them to follow. They had all but lost Emmaline’s trail.

Before long the shrubby growth gave way to lush woodland. The pair could see the blue Caribbean sky through gaps in the canopy. Emmaline and the trainees were sprinting over flatter terrain to the southwest. For the moment there was no sign of aquilan attack from above.

Florence and Julian rejoined the diviner at a huge, fallen log. They all clambered over together, assisting Emmaline where they could. The diviner was surprisingly fit but of course didn’t have the same physical prowess as the lycans or Julian.

Emmaline led everyone further southwest, where a thick veil of jungle suggested a reasonable sanctuary.

Julian hacked his way through the verdant curtain and stumbled forward. Her heart sinking, Florence followed him through and was greeted by warm sunlight. A square of jungle a mile in diameter had been completely flattened.

“It’s a trap!” Florence exclaimed, hauling Julian into the safety of the jungle. Before she could consider their next move, one of the younger trainees yelped in pain and crashed to the ground. A neat bullet hole had punctured his temple. Numb with shock, Florence felt for a pulse. The trainee was dead.

“They’re coming from the north!” Julian shouted. Florence saw a line of aquilans walking calmly through the undergrowth toward them. She gauged her chances of making it to them alive. They were slim. The open woodland provided scant cover.

The only other option was the flattened jungle square. Deep rainforest beckoned on the other side. But for at least a minute they’d be vulnerable to air attack, which was the aquilan speciality.

There was no other choice. Get mown down right there, or sprint for safety.

Florence’s blood had gone cold. The aquilans’ planning had been nothing short of elite. They’d guessed correctly that the lycans would head south from the St Claire property and from there could be herded towards the cleared area. A zone that would now be filled with lycan blood.

“Run!” she shouted above the din of gunfire. “Now!”

Florence didn’t wait to see if her trainees were obedient - the only way to do this was lead by example. She burst into the open and loped along the uneven ground. The felled trees slowed her progress considerably. The aquilans’ plan couldn’t have been more perfect in every facet.

Despite the slow going Florence was glad to hear the sound of several werewolves at her heels. She hoped that Julian was somewhere back there too.

Florence began to sweat as she negotiated log after log. A cry resounded from the skies, an aquilan call of war. The bullets began to fly, peppering the ground all around her. She risked a look over her shoulder and saw seven or eight aquilans swooping in from the south. All of them had machine guns.

An alarmed grunt told her that one of her comrades had fallen. She turned to see a trainee being peppered with lethal silver bullets as she tried to crawl under a fallen log.

Her anger rising, Florence forced herself to focus on the task at hand - survival. A very large trunk had been felled some thirty yards from her position. She made a beeline for it and slid into a semi-protected gully underneath the huge trunk. From there she waved and shouted at her friends, cajoling them to join her if they could.

Julian appeared through the chaos carrying an injured lycan. He joined Florence in the gully and laid the body down. The trainee died before their eyes, its beautiful lycan eyes losing their lustre like a light being switched off.

Four trainees, including Wilson, Richie, Miss Garvey and a short, young man known as Mouse all made it to the hollow. Emmaline followed not long after, breathless and terrified.

There didn’t seem much point waiting for the others - Florence knew they were all dead.

“Along the hollow,” Florence ordered, passing under the fallen trunk and heading east along the gully. Above them bullets rained on the trunk, shredding the soft wood into pulp. The thunderous sound filled Florence with such anxiety that she was trembling when she reached the gully’s eastern end.

“We’ll have to run that last stretch,” Florence said, working incredibly hard to mask her fear. “Let’s do it in twos to disrupt their line of fire. Julian and I will go first.”

No one dared argue and Florence realized she must have looked fearsome. Looking out from the hollow, Florence estimated there was around twenty yards to jungle cover. She burst from the hollow like a panicked rabbit and loped powerfully over the last few logs. Bullets cascaded around her and she was was certain she would get pounded. But then she skidded in the cool darkness of forest cover on the other side, glad to see Julian tumble through the bracken unharmed.

Wilson and Miss Garvey thundered through the undergrowth uninjured. Emmaline appeared a little to the south, exhausted but safe.

“Mouse?” Florence demanded. “Richie?” Wilson shook his head. Any attempted rescue would be suicide.

Florence hung her head, her face a rictus of pain.

“Those were
my
lycans,” she said quietly, barely able to process what she was feeling. “I’m responsible for all of this.”

Julian held her by the shoulders. “I’m sorry, Florence, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Thousands, maybe millions of Flux creatures will die for what they believe is right.”

The aquilan was right. Florence was only looking to enpower her people and bring lycans back to a position of strength. It wasn’t her fault that there were bloodthirsty factions out there who saw killing as a legitimate means of exerting power.

“We got company,” Wilson warned. The trainee’s eyes were good - several aquila approached from the south, their brown leather almost indistinguishable from the musky vegetation.

Florence felt her anger rise to dangerous levels. “Now it’s our turn to hunt,” she snarled. “Those fuckers aren’t used to the jungle. They prefer to snipe at their prey like cowards. They need space and air. All a good lycan needs is opportunity.”

Her trainees nodded vigorously, picking up on her battle pheromones.

“Julian,” Florence breathed. “Ensure that Emmaline stays alive. This could get messy.”

The aquilan nodded and moved to the diviner’s side.

Florence crouched low and scanned the terrain. The jungle between the lycans and their quarry was reasonably thick, with plenty of ambush possibilities.

“Roam,” Florence spat venomously. “Flank these bastards. Let them know what lycans can do. The only rule is make sure you win.”

Florence watched as her trainees made their own way into the thick undergrowth. She had no choice but to set them free and see what they could do. Hopefully they were filled with the righteous force of anger.
That
emotion could be a great ally to lycans in battle.

It was time to move. Florence ducked under the sea of bracken and crawled low and hard along the scratchy jungle floor. The sights, sounds and smells of the jungle flooded her consciousness. Her mind pulsing with lycan battle chemicals, Florence absorbed everything there was to know about this particular terrain. As she moved silently under the eaves of an enormous silk cotton tree she was confronted with a tangle of fibrous creeper vines. On instinct she climbed a vine that disappeared high up in the canopy ceiling. The plant was as tough as a bull whip and easily supported her weight. Within seconds Florence was climbing high over the middle and lower storeys of the rainforest. She could see the quietly moving aquilan assassins in the bracken far below. They were good, very good, but no match for a lycan using guerrilla tactics.

Florence waited until the majority of aquilans had passed underneath her and targeted the rearmost enemy.

Holding her breath, she climbed rapidly and noiselessly down the vine. Her pace quickened as she neared the tall aquilan. With a crunch she met him feet first, sending him sprawling into the bracken. Landing lightly, two steps was all it took to assume a lethal position over the enemy’s shoulders. She yanked on the man’s folded wings until they both came free.

Ignoring the dying aquilan’s shrill scream, Florence scanned the tangled undergrowth for her next target. An aquilan to her right had spotted her and was about to bring his machine gun to bear. He was only able to peel off a couple of rounds before Wilson careened into him, snapping a wing off as they fell to the ground.

Florence turned her attention to the aquilan approaching through a bank of tall seed ferns. Exploiting the man’s lack of space, Florence hurled herself forward, connecting with a weak front kick to the man’s hardened leather chestplate. Thought the blow was light, Florence’s aim was true. Winded, the aquilan took a moment to suck down some air. It was his last decision. Florence planted a brutal foot in his throat and took the man’s wings as he fell to his final resting place.

Breathing hard, Florence scanned the field of battle. There were sounds of desperate melee on the other side of the tree ferns. She picked her way through the plants and found Miss Garvey finishing off an aquilan assassin.

“How many more?” Florence asked as Garvey recovered her breath.

“I think Wilson got two,” Garvey replied. “Julian got two as well.”

“Emmaline…”

Florence found Julian and Emmaline safe and sound. The aquilan had successfully fought off two of his kin. Emmaline looked shaken but determined.

“Can you find a way to safety?” Florence asked her. She nodded. Wilson and Miss Garvey joined them as they began a light jog to the south. It seemed as though they’d taken care of all the aquilans on foot. There were still plenty in the air to worry about. Fortunately the further west they traveled, the more impenetrable the canopy became. The aquila might still be tracking them, but there was little chance they could mount a successful attack unless they received major reinforcement. Florence hoped that was a matter of hours, not minutes.

The party passed through a thick, hot valley at around noon. Florence couldn’t quite believe that only half a day had passed since their ordeal began at dawn.

Deeper and deeper into the jungle they marched. Florence didn’t allow herself to germ back into human form, and probably wouldn’t until the danger had well and truly receded.

The valley, choked with stifling heat and cloying vegetation, eventually spilled into a steep-sided gorge. Florence hurried her charges through this section as they were partially exposed to aerial attack.

Beyond the gorge more jungle beckoned, only this time it was quite swampy. Flies and other biting insects tormented Florence as she followed Emmaline’s footsteps through the mud. She almost bumped into the diviner when she stopped suddenly.

At first Florence couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There were muddy tufts of grass, a thick grove of reeds, several pools of brackish water. Then she saw the long black shapes in the reeds. Spiders legs. As she watched, slightly horrified, five large spiders squeezed themselves from the reeds. Three of them were jet black with shiny abdomens. The other two were brown and shaggy with hair. Florence resisted a strong urge to vomit.

“You see, we have already fooled your eyes,” the nearest black spider said, its speech punctuated by an odd clicking noise. “Do not doubt that there are more of us waiting to strike, if necessary.”

Florence noted this one’s sheer size - it more than doubled the next largest. Could this be Gustav Almasy, leader of the arachne? She’d glimpsed him from afar at Yasmin Silver’s masquerade ball but never got a chance to speak with him.

“I recognize your domain, spider, and mean you no harm,” Florence said formally. She wasn’t sure how to address this creature, and still wasn’t certain whether they’d made the right decision in coming here. One thing she
did
know - they were now at the mercy of the arachne nest of New Providence.