Blood Trail

obvious. "Put the safety on and toss your revolver to the ground." He gestured with the rifle. "Over there, away from everyone."

    Teeth gritted, Celluci did as he was told. He couldn't see as he had an option. The snap of steel jaws closing as the gun hit the floor startled everyone about equally.

    "Traps," Stuart said, pointing. "There and there." The dirt floor just beyond his bare foot had been disturbed. "And here."

    Mark smiled. "Pity you don't take longer strides."

    "Now move over there," Carl commanded, "by the others so I can get a ..." As they picked their way between the traps and into the lamplight, he recognized Stuart and his eyes narrowed. All day he had prayed for an answer to his doubts and now the Lord delivered the leader of the ungodly into his hands. Then he saw Cloud, still crouched behind Henry, ignoring everything but the body on the table.

    Then he saw Storm.

    He lowered the rifle from his shoulder to his hip, holding it balanced by the pistol grip, finger still resting on the trigger. Keeping the muzzle carefully pointed toward the group of intruders now clustered together at one side of the barn, he moved to stand beside the table. "What," he repeated, "is going on here? How did this creature die?"

    "He's not dead!" Rose threw herself into Stuart's arms. "He's not dead, Uncle Stuart! He's not."

    "I know, Rose. And we'll save him." He stroked her hair, glaring at the younger human who stared at her as though he'd never seen skin before. She needed comfort but, if they were to save themselves and Storm, too, better she have the use of tooth and claw. Silently he cursed the clothing that held him to human form. "Change now," he told her. "Watch. Be ready."

    "Stop that!" The rifle swung from Stuart to Cloud and back again. "You will do no more devil's tricks!"

    Cloud whined but Stuart buried his hand in the thick fur behind her head and said quietly,
    "Wait."

    Carl swallowed hard. The pain in the creature's eyes as it, no, she, gazed up at him added itself to the cry of the creature he had wounded and the weight of doubt settled heavier around his heart. The work of the Lord should not bring pain. He turned and gazed down at Storm with horrified fascination. "I asked you a question, nephew."

    Mark put a little more distance between himself and Henry before he answered -
    coincidentally moving himself closer to the door, just in case - fighting the silent command that called him to look at me. "I assume," he said with a forced grin, "that as we've been assured my guest isn't dead you want to know, how did you put it, 'What the hell is going on here?' It's simple, really. I decided to combine your policy of holy extermination with a profit-making plan of my own."

    "You do not find profit in doing the Lord's work!" Suddenly unsure of so many other things, this belief, at least, Carl held to firmly.

    "Bullshit! You reap your rewards in heaven, I want mine ... Hold it right there!" He gestured with the shotgun and Henry froze. "I don't know what you are, but I'm pretty damned sure both barrels at this range will blow you to hell and gone and I'd be more than willing to prove it." White showed all around his eyes and he was breathing heavily, sweat burning in the scratches on his back.

    Celluci glanced at Henry's profile and wondered what the other man could see that had him so terrified. He wondered, but he really didn't want to know. In his opinion their best chance lay with Carl Biehn, who looked confused and somehow, in spite of his unquestionable ability with the rifle, fragile and old. "This has gone too far," he said calmly, making his voice the voice of reason, laying it over the tension like a balm. "Whatever you thought when you started this, things have changed. It's up to you to end it."

    "Shut up!" Mark snapped. "We don't need your two cents worth."

    Carl lifted his hand from where it lay almost in benediction on Storm's head and took a firmer grip on the rifle. "And what do you plan to do now?" he asked pointedly, desperation tinting his voice, the question echoing prayers that had remained unanswered.

    "You said yourself the devil's creatures must die. That one," Mark nodded at Storm, "has been taken care of. This one," Cloud whined again and pressed close to Stuart's legs, "I could use as well. Pity we can't get the big one to change before he dies."

    Stuart snarled and tensed to spring.

    "No!" Henry's command snapped Stuart back on his heels, furious and impotent.