Werewolf of Marines: Patria Lycanus by Jonathan P. Brazee

Author:Jonathan P. Brazee [Brazee, Jonathan P.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Semper Fi Press
Published: 2015-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Lomri Baridman Gorbat Wafa Khan, who the Americans referred to as “Lieutenant Wafa Khan,” oversaw the loading of his men’s bodies onto the beat-up truck that would take them down the mountain.

He cared for his men, and he mourned their passing, yet he was filled with exultation. He was not just an Army officer. He came from a long line of shkaarzan, of hunters. Some knew them as lewan-shkaarzan, but it wasn’t the animal lewan—wolves—they hunted, but darker creatures. As his people were dragged into the 21st Century, many of the old traditions died as the young wanted cell phones, motorcycles, and televisions. But here in the mountains, far from the cities, some still held to the old ways. Some believed in the Shaytan spawn that tried to destroy men and hasten the end of days.

Gorbat’s father had been a shkaarzan, and his father before him, and yet his father before him, and so on reaching far back into their past. Gorbat had clung to his training, his beliefs, despite never encountering a ghuul, as the creatures were known in the old Arabic texts, or wargalewa in his own native Pashto. He knew they were out there, biding their time to bring about the end of times. He’d served in the Army, first under the warlords fighting the Soviet invaders, now with the new invaders. It didn’t really make much difference to him who he fought. He tried to keep his men alive while watching for the wargalewa. He was born to protect his people, the Pashtun, and that was what drove him.

Then today, in this small mountain village, the spawn had come forth. When they hit the police station, he immediately recognized what they were. He’d never heard one before, he’d never seen one, but that didn’t matter. Without hesitation, he charged, his silver pesh-kabz[43] drawn and ready for battle. Confronting Shaytan’s minion filled him with elation. He didn’t believe in the promise to martyrs of 72 virgins in heaven, but he imagined that this was how those men felt as they pulled the pin on their suicide vests. He was filled with a holy presence as he fought for Allah.

The creature he faced was taller than him, and from what he’d witnessed, ungodly strong, but it recognized the presence of a warrior of Allah. It hesitated, wary of his holy pesh-kabz. Despite his fervor, though, Gorbat was a practical man, and the Americans had weapons, too. The soldier on the .50 caliber gun had sent one of the minions back to hell already, so in his somewhat broken English, Gorbat ordered him to open fire on the devil facing him. The soldier didn’t hesitate, and Gorbat felt the big rounds blast over his head, a shock wave caused by the rounds’ passing. One hit the wargalewa high on the forehead, taking it off the top of its vile head in an explosion of blood, brains, and bone.

Gorbat knew that the creatures were tough and hard to kill. He wasn’t sure if losing half of its head was enough, however.

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