The group of Werecoyotes gathered in the center of the stage area. The Weird Feeling was kicking me in the back of the head in angry, icy thumps. The pack had their noses in the air and were looking in our general direction. They couldn’t get an exact fix on us because the zen garden thingy was still hiding us from sight, but it wouldn’t take them long. As a group, they started to move toward us, with Vanessa in the lead.

Agent Ruthersford did not hesitate. He tapped something into his phone and stood shouldering his MP7 in a compact, forward-leaning stance. I heard him flick off the safety. “Grab the Hidden Garden,” he told me. And then the shooting started.

Refined Gentleman or not, Teddy had experience firing automatic weapons. He squeezed out several extended bursts from the submachine gun, letting off only when he lost control of the grouping. BRRRRR. BRRRRR. BRRRRR. The Hechler and Koch MP7 fires a scorching nine hundred and fifty rounds per minute. At that speed, it's hard to pick out the individual bangs. Shell casings went everywhere as I scrambled to collect the Zen Garden and place it in my bag. I smelled burnt cordite and brass as Teddy dropped his first magazine and quickly replaced it with another from his sweater pocket.

I willed my crampy legs to work and staggered to my feet. My partner continued to pour fire down into the stage area of the amphitheater. I shouldered my satchel and pulled up my shotgun. I already wished I had brought the Henry rifle. Maybe Teddy could take out the entire pack with his initial volley.

We had no such luck. Teddy aimed his first few bursts at Vanessa. She went down quickly, but I saw her roll to her side and quickly scrabble out of the kill zone with the cooler. She must be wearing heavy armor plates in her carrier. Grey Daddy reacted immediately upon hearing the first suppressed shots and leaped up the tiered seating into the wood line. I knew he would come for us. The rest of the pack was neither so quick nor lucky. Teddy fired one burst at Grey Daddy as he fled but quickly gave up on him as a target as he was quickly out of sight. He turned the MP7 back to the center stage area and continued to fire. His fifth burst landed three or four hits on the monster closest to us. His head and neck exploded with blood and gore. Teddy fired again and the leftmost Werecoyote took several rounds to his center mass. The effect was not as graphic, but he grasped his chest with a hairy paw and fell to one knee. I saw him keel over as the other four rushed up the hill toward us. Teddy was on his second magazine now and was having a much harder time landing a kill shot. The remaining weres could now see us and were bobbing and weaving up the steps. Teddy managed to tag one in the leg and it momentarily slowed. But a moment was all he needed as he adjusted his aim and drilled several more rounds into the beast’s chest and head, stopping it dead. BRRRR. Still, the others came on, running on all fours, leaping and lurching. Right into Shotgun Town.

I shouldered my double-barrelled scattergun and squeezed the first stage of the trigger without even thinking. A full ounce of sterling silver erupted from the end of my gun and struck the lead Were square in the chest. The effects were devastating. His entire chest caved in and blood and viscera sprayed against concrete seating and the other Black Mesa Coyotes. I quickly adjusted my point of aim and squeezed the second stage of the trigger. The second barrel went off, and this time my silver slug found the head of another charging monster. His brain vault exploded like an overripe melon as about three thousand foot/pounds of kinetic energy found a new home in his noggin.

But now I was dry, and Teddy was fumbling for another magazine. The last member of the pack came charging up at us at a frightening speed. He was undeterred by the slaying of the others, and it looked like we were out of options.

“Split up!” Teddy shouted, and he bolted away to the north. He gave me a shove in the opposite direction. I took a few stumbling steps. There was no way that we were going to outrun this guy. I quickly realized that we didn’t need to outrun him, only make him choose a target. Teddy and I moved in opposite directions, forcing our pursuer to decide. The speeding were changed the angle of his sprint to intercept Teddy, which as a life decision, was probably a poor one.

Time seemed to slow, and my awareness focused. I watched Teddy slowly bring the MP7 to his chest and duck his left shoulder. He moved as if swimming through molasses. His head followed his shoulder, and his entire body moved down and forward as he went into a roll. A giant paw with wicked claws swept through the air where Teddy’s torso had just been. The were seemed to move at normal speed, while Teddy rolled up to his feet slowly. So slowly. My hand was on the grip of my Ruger before I thought about drawing the pistol. Three rounds went off and sounded like a single continuous thunderclap that echoed through the brisk fall air. I extended my gun toward the were and watched him fall. He was lazily drifting the same as my partner now. I saw Teddy’s face, clearly illuminated by the bright moon. I expected to see relief or gratitude in my partner’s expression, but instead, I saw terror.

“Loooo,” he said. That was a weird thing to say after I saved his life. Loooo? Well, ‘loooo’ you too, buddy. Then time snapped again and reality caught up with itself.

“Look out Cash!”

I heard his words and was just comprehending them as a massive paw slammed into my hand, knocking the New Vaquero from my grip. Before my pistol had even hit the ground, another strike hit me on the back of the head and shoulders, and I went to the ground in a heap. Grey Daddy had caught up with us. And he looked pissed. He went to all fours in his hybrid form and bounded toward Teddy, clearing the distance in a single leap. My partner jammed another magazine home just as the monster reached him. Grey Daddy seized the submachine gun in a single paw and ripped it away from him. Agent Ruthersford lost his balance as the MP7 tore free from the sling securing the gun to him and Grey Daddy backhanded him, sending him tumbling to the ground near me.

The were turned toward us and let out a horrific noise. Part howl, part scream, part traffic collision. My hair stood on end as Grey Daddy took the MP7 in both hands and flexed his massive arms. The barrel and frame of the gun bent and pieces of the polymer broke away. He tossed the now useless hunk of metal and plastic to the ground, having barely exerted himself.

Grey Daddy stalked toward us, slowly now. “I am going to make you suffer.” He growled out the last word extending the "R" out. He charged a step and stopped. Teddy and I both crab-walked backward away from him, helplessly moving only a few feet. Then he laughed a deep, bone-rattling noise. “No, your end will not be so quick. One will watch me kill the other and before the end, you will both beg for your deaths.”

He was closing within striking range now. My heart pounded in my chest. I clawed at the dirt and leaves beneath my hands. I couldn’t think, the Weird Feeling pounding icily into my skull and spine. I had no options. My shotgun was empty, and I didn’t have time to reload it. I had no idea where my pistol was. Teddy had his Rhino, but there was no way he could draw and fire before Grey Daddy ripped him to pieces. I had Ben’s knife in my boot, but even if I could get to it I wasn’t sure it would even cause lasting damage to the hulking monster in front of us. I started reaching for it, anyway. At least I could make him kill me faster if I attacked him. No way was I going to let this asshole torture us.

I glanced at my watch to make sure it was actually past midnight. I assured myself that I had made it at least until my third full day as an agent before I punched the clock a final time. I imagined Director Barnum telling me it wasn’t an agency record. I was a disappointment, even in death. My hand reached for my knife and I prepared for my last dance.

I felt it before I heard it. It was like the rumble you feel in the ground and in your bones when a horse gallops near you. Then, I heard it. Like four rapid-fire drum beats, so close together you can hardly tell them apart. Then a moment of silence. Grey Daddy loomed over us, smiling, hot saliva dripping from his massive fangs. Killing us was going to be the best part of his week. His expression changed a split second before the impact. Just a glimpse of his surprise was enough to make my heart sing.

A giant chestnut-colored blur slammed into Grey Daddy from the side with the force of a freight train. They tumbled together for a moment and then slid in the soft soil, leaving a shallow furrow in the leaf litter. They stopped and the two shapes leaped apart. I got my first look at our savior. It was a hulking weremonster. It was bigger and heavier than Grey Daddy and its snout was shorter and thicker. It was a deep reddish-brown color with highlights of black and grey. It had to be Alicia the Werewolf.

The two weres faced off and circled each other, but the posturing session was short. It looked like a no-contest to me. As big and terrifying as Grey Daddy was, Alicia was at least a foot taller and had at least two hundred pounds on him. Where Grey Daddy was lean and lanky, Alicia was broad and heavily muscled. She was absolutely massive. She snarled at him and moved to attack. But Grey Daddy hadn’t lived as long as he had by being dumb. He feinted as if to meet her charge, but then gracefully pivoted and streaked by her. The maneuver completely fooled Alicia. She scrabbled at the soft, leafy earth, trying desperately to turn around. Her weight advantage over the werecoyote now worked against her as he was more nimble.

Unfortunately for Yours Truly, Grey Daddy had no intention of tangling with the massive she-wolf. He headed directly toward Teddy and me. I could see the murderous rage in his eyes. He would not win the day, but he was going to take one of us out. He planned on extracting his pound of flesh before he fled, recompense for his fallen pack mates. The grey werecoyote was gathering himself to pounce, and I looked down at my hands. My double barrel was there, broken open, and I had a single shotgun shell in my left hand. Grey Daddy was streaking through the air toward me. I jammed the shell in, snapped it closed, and pulled the trigger all in one smooth motion. I saw Grey Daddy's eyes go wide as the gun came up and he tried to rotate in the air to get away from it. The booming report of the shotgun startled all of us. Grey Daddy had only just managed to get his left arm up in front of his face.

Eight pieces of silver erupted from the muzzle of my double barrel. Each fragment was the size of a 9 mm bullet, but with about half the mass. Grey Daddy had just taken a round of double 00 buckshot at point-blank range. Most of the pellets ripped into his left hand and forearm, but the rest missed anything vital. The werecoyote landed in a heap, but quickly rolled to three feet and loped away. His left arm dangled as he fled, swinging limp and useless. After a few pounding paces, a large piece of his forelimb fell away. I had blown his arm off. Fucking sick.

Alicia finally gathered herself and turned to go after him, but Teddy stopped her. “No Alicia. There’s bound to be more of the pack in the park. We need to get out of here.” The immense beast stopped and raised her head to sniff the air. She seemed to agree as she looked at both of us with her intelligent human eyes. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. She was enormous, terrifying, and strangely beautiful. Her coat and bearing were magnificent, and I now realized how mangey the Coyotes were in comparison.

Teddy pulled me by the arm. ‘Come on Cash, we’ve got to go.’

“What about the bodies?” I protested.

“The pack will collect them. Now come on!” He pulled me in the direction that our cars lay.

I looked back at Alicia. She had a half-smile on her wolfish face and gave me a wink before throwing her head back and letting loose a tooth rattling howl. Then she tore off in a different direction, bounding gracefully through the moonlight.

I sprinted after Teddy, stooping to grab my Ruger. After a few hundred feet of running together, we split to go back to our respective cars. “Meet back at the Walmart.” Teddy hissed to me as we separated.

I bolted through the park, certain another monster was going to jump out of the next dark bush. I reloaded my shotgun as I ran, and I returned to my car without encountering anyone. I jumped in and slammed the car in drive, hopping a curb and tearing back toward the entrance. I relaxed a little, figuring that taking down a two thousand pound speeding hunk of metal was a tall order even for a pack of weres. Occasional howls and yelps in the distance told me that the pack probably had their hands full right now with Alicia at the moment. I crossed the bridge off of the island and made it back to the main road.

I stopped at a traffic light and signaled to turn right, waiting for the sparse traffic to clear. The turn signal binked and bonked hypnotically, and sudden fatigue hit me. Fighting for your life was hella tiring. I didn’t turn at the first opportunity and just sat there for a moment, breathing. The light flashed on and off, on and off. My turn signal was reflecting off of a bus stop bench with a reflective advertisement on it. Fucking Binny, telling me not to mix my paper and plastic recyclables. On and off, light and dark. I saw a gun barrel flash in the light reflecting off the bench a moment before I felt the cold steel pressed to the back of my neck.

“Ciao, Cash. So nice to see you again.”

How do you say fuck in Italian?