The Devil's Hound

Chapter 23 - Wednesday 8th of August continued

There was a flash of light from the mill accompanied by a loud bang. The long-limbed gangly werewolves collapsed to the dusty ground. The other werewolves paused momentarily taken by surprise. Now was Nigel's chance. He had to take his shot while the monsters below were distracted. Nigel aimed the rifle at the largest muscular werewolf. It looked down at his dead pack mate as if confused. Nigel took a deep breath, steadied his aim and...

He couldn't pull the trigger. It was an unmovable object. His apprehension about killing a man had turned the simple squeeze of a trigger into pulling a train.

The werewolves snarled. Realising where the gunshot had come from the alpha pair turned towards the mill. The pack's distraction had lasted a matter of seconds, enough time for Renée to reload, but short enough for the pack to become aware of the threat. The alpha male let out a series of short barks as if it was bellowing orders.

The muzzle flashed and the alpha male collapsed to the ground. The remaining werewolves reacted by dropping down on to all four as Renée fired for a third time. The shot struck the largest werewolf in the side. It fell to the ground yelping. The alpha female reacted by running off in the direction the man had fled in. Renée fired again. Her shot missed punching hole in the side of the barn. Before she could fire again the werewolf had disappeared out of sight. The remaining werewolf raced across the yard to the mill. It tore at the door trying to break in. The porch concealed it from Renée's sight protecting it from a gunshot from above.

Everything had happened so fast. It had been less than thirty seconds since the first werewolf had smelt him. Yet two werewolves were injured, another was dead in the dust, the alpha female had fled and, the final werewolf was tearing at the door beneath Renée. And during all of that time Nigel had been frozen, unable to take the necessary action. Well he couldn't stand back any longer. His inaction had allowed one of them to escape. Nigel aimed at the werewolf tearing at the mill door. It had already ripped a huge hole in the wood. Grimacing he pulled the trigger.

There was a loud bang and the rifle jolted in his hands. He looked at the mill door expecting to see a dead werewolf crumpled beneath it. The werewolf continued to tear at the door, its body nearly through a gaping hole it had torn into the wood. He had missed. He took aim for a second time. He was about to pull the trigger when there was a loud crash from below. Nigel glanced away from his target. A dead werewolf with a gaping hole in his chest, lay in the yard. The alpha male werewolf was dragging itself towards the mills on its stomach. Its back legs sprawled out behind it. There was only two of them. He couldn't see the giant of a werewolf. Something snarled from the floor below. The werewolf was in the barn.

With leaden feet Nigel approached the hole in the floor around the ladder. The silver light of the moon only illuminated the area around the window. Even with his eyes adjusted to the gloom the rest of the barn was little more than a collection of shadows merged into one. He pointed the rifle down into the hole in the floor around the ladder. Nothing but darkness. It was like staring into a bottomless well.

Yet he must have seen something or some long lost instinct caused his to draw back from the hole. It wasn't a conscious thought. But it certainly saved his life. At that moment the werewolf leapt up through the hole its jaws open wide. If he had not moved back the jaws would have found his throat. Instead they clamped shut over the barrel of the rifle. The rifle was torn from his grasp as the werewolf disappeared back down the hole. Pulled off balance Nigel teetered at the edge of the hole on the brink of falling into the darkness. He desperately wind milled his arms and managed to steady himself.

The ladder rungs creaked. Something heavy was climbing the ladder.

Nigel had lost the rifle, his only defence against the creature. He thought about trying to find somewhere to hide, but the werewolf would only sniff him out and find him crouched down with hands over his head helpless. It would tear him to pieces. He had to flee. The only exit was the window.