James Axler – Way of the Wolf

“Not much time,” the albino whispered. “This happen quick.”

“What?”

“Take them,” Jak said. “Chill them fast. Then find out why not try chill us fast, too.”

The fact that the five men hadn’t been trying to blast through the brush had bothered Dean some. The only time they had been fired upon had been back at the stable. With the silenced weapons, the coldhearts could have tried to blast them back at the gaudy house, maybe chilled them, too. But they hadn’t.

“Say when,” Dean agreed.

“Stay here,” Jak whispered. “Wait for signal.”

“What signal?” he asked hoarsely, as Jak melted into the shadows.

“Know when see it,” Jak’s voice drifted back.

Dean sidled up to the tree, took up a two-handed grip on the Browning Hi-Power and aimed at the riders. He braced his arm against the tree trunk.

A horse nickered tiredly, blowing fog out its nostrils in the chill air that had settled over the countryside with the coming of night. The coldhearts talked among themselves, obviously waiting for their quarries to break cover at some point.

Less than fifty yards away, Dean got a better look at the long blasters two of them carried. They weren’t regular weapons, like his father’s Steyr. The two blasters they had looked more like long, cylindrical tubes mounted on gun stocks. J.B. probably would have recognized the make and model, but Dean thought it was enough that he recognized they were compressed-air guns. More questions assailed his mind, but then time for thinking was well past.

A pale shadow drifted along behind the horses, cutting through the brush with an unnatural speed. A spark flared, then a flaming object slammed against the man in the center of the five, drenching him with dark liquid. The flames quickly spread across the dark liquid, though, licking eagerly at the man and the horse.

The animal panicked first, its hindquarters on fire. It broke into a sudden run, hindquarters buckling as it tried to drag its rear onto the ground. The sudden movement threw the man from the saddle. He hit the ground hard, rolling and screaming as he tried to slap out the flames wreathing him.

Revealed in the light given off by the burning man and the burning horse, Jak sprinted up behind the man on the outside, out of Dean’s field of fire. The albino slapped his hands against the horse’s rear and vaulted aboard. The animal whinnied in fear and reared. Jak reached around the rider and seized the reins and the pommel, holding himself and the rider on. His other hand wrapped up under the man’s chin. Moonlight glinted on metal.

The rider didn’t try to struggle, letting his arms go limp at his sides. The burning man’s cries continued to shrill over the trail. “Chill him, Dean!” Jak ordered.

Dean swiveled his sights over the man closest to him. The other men jockeyed to control their horses and bring their blasters to bear on Jak. One of them ripped off three shots that missed.

Curling his finger over the Hi-Power’s trigger, Dean squeezed off two shots that crunched through the man’s chest, blowing out his heart. The body tumbled from the saddle, and the frightened horse thundered through the forest.

Realization that they were caught between their prey gripped the remaining two riders at once. Both put spurs to their mounts. One rode for Jak, while the other crashed through the brush where Dean stood.

Dean kept his position, standing his ground. He brought up his blaster and breathed out through his mouth to relax his arms. He centered the sights over his target’s chest as the man raced toward him.

The attacker fired four shots that ripped bark from the tree beside Dean and the branches above. The man yelled loudly, hoping to rattle the youth.

Instead, the youngster fired coolly, placing two shots within a heartbeat of each other. The horse chose that moment to raise its head, and both 9 mm hollowpoint rounds struck the animal’s skull, exploding its head.

Dean tried to realign his sights as the dead horse fell to the ground in a tumbling heap, but the uncertainty of the shot and Jak being behind the target stayed his finger. Before he could draw another breath, the man leaped from the saddle and dived into the brush, vanishing before Dean could take aim.