Wolves of Bad Chapel (The Peace Keeper Chronicles, #1) by Dakota Mason & Manning Lord Marcus

Author:Dakota, Mason & Manning, Lord Marcus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Steam punk, monster hunter
Publisher: Mason Dakota
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

August

“Move!” roared Reggie.

The need for silence was over, all that mattered now was escaping alive. We scrambled for the tunnel just as the pack of werewolves, too many to count, rushed into their tunnels below, looking to cut us off. Nelly and I took up the rear as Sabien led the way out.

There is nothing silent or easy about trying to scramble down a tunnel with a full pack on your back and a ceiling so low, you had to squat or crawl on your belly. It slowed us down considerably, regardless of how Reggie shouted at us to go faster.

Ahead of me, Reggie squeezed through the low-ceiling tunnel entrance into a larger cavern and reached back to pull each of us out, one by one. He snagged my arm and yanked me forward, scrapping my knees on the ground but getting me out faster.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Reggie shouted, waving his hand toward the cave mouth.

The howls and snarls echoed in the tunnels behind us. My blood turned into ice. My heartbeat roared in my ears. It was a mad dash to the exit and the dark forest beyond.

But we were never going to make it. We were racing against a horde of werewolves, creatures faster and stronger than any human, with plenty of sprinting space and a soulless desire to devour us. We were scrambling, coming out of a tunnel we had to crawl on our bellies downhill out.

The barking around the corner was paces away.

“Run!” Sabien cried out behind me, and we ran, knowing full well we would never make it to freedom. It was a long sprint to the mouth of the cave, and an even longer sprint through the woods at night to get back to Bad Chapel. We were dead, caught like fish in the barrel, and we all knew it.

Koda didn’t accept it.

When the first werewolf was coming around the corner, Koda reached into his pack and threw a small cylinder-shaped object—a grenade of his own design. It bounced once and then twice, rolling to a stop at the foot of the first werewolf that led the charge when it detonated.

My eardrums popped as the grenade exploded in a bloom of red and orange. Dust filled the air, sparked to life by the coal mixing with the fire. Tongues of flame lashed at our fleeing backs. The whole tunnel shook and rattled, and a loud crash roared behind us.

None of us dared look back. A dark cloud of dust clung to our shoulders, and heat burned the back of my neck. My lungs screamed, but I kept running, forcing my legs to drive me forward faster than I had ever run before. I locked my eyes forward, praying to God as I ran that none of the falling pieces of stone would hit us as we made for the exit and the dark woods beyond.

Something supernatural hangs in the air in the woods at night. The eyes of invisible predators, both imaginary and real, bore into your back from the shadows.

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