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ing a great weight on their backs. Andthey were heading straight for Kyna and him. |
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"It's trouble. Here, hold these." Cyrus peeled off his leather jacket and tossed it to Kyna. Then he kicked off his shoes and began to unbuckle his belt. Spurred by the moonlight, his body had already started to change. His Jockey shorts didn't make it. |
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Dropping down on all fours, he raised his nose to the wind. Now that he had changed, he could smell them and wished he couldn't; the things smelled like the reception committee from the charnel house welcome wagon. It was obvious that these creatures were nothing like the thing he had faced in Calgary. They were slow and smelled like they would fall apart any second. |
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This won't take long, he thought. |
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He slipped into the dark like he was slipping into a favorite suit. As he closed the gap, he could sense waves of inhuman hunger coming from the creatures and reminded himself not to get cocky. They were still coming right at him, a point man and three others fanned out in a wedge to either side. His first impulse was to hit the creatures head-on, just blow right through them in a flurry of teeth and claws. But then a funny thing happened: The wolf's onboard attack computer took over. He abruptly increased his speed and changed direction, sweeping silently around to the right to come up on his opponents from behind. He penetrated the tall grass like a knife, weaving between the stalks instead of mowing them down, and making no more noise than the wind. The moment he cleared the brush, he saw his first target highlighted against the backdrop of pearly-white sand. The remains were human, but just barely. A man who looked to have been about sixty when he died stumbling through the sand in the suit he had been buried in. |
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No time for Marquis of Queensberry, Cyrus thought. |
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He smashed into the zombie's back at full speed and the creature literally exploded. Caked flesh and greenish teeth flew in every direction, and the skull, minus the lower jaw, hit the |
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