Red Rider's Hood

16 Silver city

Hardly a cloud dared to touch the sky on this terrible night.

The full moon shining over the city gave every surface an eerie silver sheen. There's an old-fashioned kind of photograph Grandma had once told me about. It's called a daguerreotype. She had a couple of them hanging on her walls. Instead of the photo being printed on paper, it was printed onto the surface of a mirror, so instead of black and white it was all black and silver. The whole city was a daguerreotype tonight.

My bike was still propped up behind the antique shop, and I rode it at breakneck speed through the silver city, skidding around corners, crisscrossing through alleys that I knew would shave a few seconds off my ride. My hands and feet were numb from fear being pumped through my veins, as deadly as nitro­glycerine. My whole body felt like a bomb ticking down to detonation.

You can't imagine what it's like to be torn between darkness and light―to be a traitor no matter what move you make. If my grandmother and Marissa died tonight, it would be because I had stayed in the darkness too long, flirting with the idea of being Cedric's consigliere. If that happened, I could never live with myself―but if Cedric gave me the bite as he planned, I would be forced to live with it forever. That was the worst hell I could imagine.

I knew where the Wolves were and the not-so-secret drainage-tunnel exit they'd be trying to slip out of by the river, just above the waterline. They expected to double back to Troll Bridge Hollow and surprise the two dozen hunters they thought were waiting for them. Little did they know that it was just Grandma and Marissa, waiting in ambush as they came out of the drainage tunnel. I had no idea what I would do when I got there, only that I had to go.

I was about two blocks from Troll Bridge Hollow when I heard gunshots and the Wolves going crazy. Howling, yipping, screaming in frenzy.

I pedaled harder, pushing my bike to the max, and covered the last blocks in seconds. I turned the corner, misjudged, and took it too fast. The bike skidded out from under me, and I scraped across the pavement on my back and shoulders.

I rolled over into a low crouch and paused there, catching my breath and taking a good look around at my surroundings.

I was down by the edge of the river, just a dozen yards away from the drainage tunnel, but the Wolves were nowhere to be seen. No―that wasn't entirely true. There were three furry masses lying motionless on the rocks near the tunnel. It looked like the ambush had worked, but not as well as Grandma and Marissa had intended. It made me feel both frightened and relieved, and the two feelings battled inside me. I hurried back up Troll Street, listening for the sound of howls, or shots.

The buildings facing the bridge were dark. I trotted toward a doorway, planning to crouch there until I caught my breath, but I had only made it halfway when I heard a wolf howl some­where unseen, a block or so away. The howl was followed by a gunshot, then a yip of pain, followed by more howling and growling from others.

I took a deep breath and ran for the corner, staying low. One more wolf down. How many bullets had Grandma already used up? How many did she have left? And who'd been taken out already? I immediately hoped it wasn't A/C, or Klutz . . . or Cedric.

No! I told myself, pressing my knuckles to my forehead until it hurt. I can't let myself think that way. They're not people. Not now. They're wolves. Yet every single death cry tore into me like a wolf claw. I reached the side street and turned the corner. There was the downed wolf, lying in the street. I could see it was writhing in pain, then it breathed its last.

Pressing close to the buildings, I passed the dead wolf's position. I looked a moment too long, because I recognized something in the set of its muzzle. It was Warhead.

I could hear howls starting up again, halfway down the block. I stepped away from the building toward the center of the sidewalk so I could see farther down the street.

Three wolves were chasing after someone. It was too small to be Grandma. It was Marissa―and she had my crossbow. She was running from the wolves, but they were gaining on her. She spun around and fired an arrow at them, but it went wide. Then I saw her reaching for something in her backpack.

She flung a small round object at the wolves on her heels.

A water balloon.

The balloon exploded on the lead wolf's nose. The animal screamed and flopped over, rubbing its face against the street, trying to wipe whatever it was off. The other two wolves stopped and looked fearfully at the dying wolf, then at each other, as Marissa kept running.

A gunshot came from above, and another one of the wolves went down. That must have come from Grandma, I thought.

The third wolf took off in my direction, barking like mad. I couldn't tell if it was warning the others away or calling them to battle.

As it ran toward me, I stepped back into a doorway. It ran past without seeing me, and I prayed it didn't smell me.

After the wolf passed, I ran after Marissa. I had to warn her about her brother.

I passed by the dead wolves lying in the street. From the one that Marissa had hit with the balloon I recognized a familiar smell from Grandma's darkroom. It was silver bromide―the kind they coat photographic paper with. The same chemical that killed Grandpa. Marissa had filled water balloons with a silver-bromide solution.

I got to the intersection at the end of the block, but I didn't see Marissa, and I had no idea in which direction she had run.

Then I heard a scream.

I ran toward the sound, legs pumping hard, breath coming out in spurts.

As I turned the corner, I saw Marissa in the middle of the street, running back toward me. Two werewolves were coming up behind her. Then two more sprang from the alleyway, directly in her path, and she stopped short. Now she was sur­rounded by four wolves.

She struggled with the crossbow, trying to load an arrow, but in her panic she dropped the whole bow. It was still clat­tering on the street as she reached into her pack and pulled out two water balloons, holding them, circling warily. I kept on running toward them, but I was still too far away to do any­thing.

Now the Wolves were barking at her, snarling and snapping their jaws, but none of them were willing to be the first to attack―the first to get the lethal liquid thrown in their faces. It was a standoff, and something had to give soon.

Three more wolves joined the circle. It wouldn't be long now before one of them made a move. They kept circling Marissa and barking at her, daring to take a step closer each time.

Then I realized that there was something I could do. I had told Cedric and the others that the hunters had laser sights on their rifles. At the time it had just been a detail I made up to make the story about the hunters seem real. I had no idea how important that little detail would become. I reached down to my key chain and grabbed my laser pointer. Then I ducked into the shadows of a doorway, aimed the laser pointer at the wolf pack, and pushed the button.

A tiny red circle suddenly appeared on the side of one of the wolves, and the wolf next to him barked out a warning and leaped out of the way. The wolf marked with the red spot of light froze, then crouched and rolled, yipping in fear.

The others, sensing a problem in their ranks, looked away from Marissa for just a second―and that was all the time she needed. She threw the balloons at the two closest wolves and then leaped over them and out of the center of the circle.

I aimed my laser pointer again and again. Each time the red spot landed on a wolf, the wolf would run in circles, scared to death.

Then a gunshot rang out. It must have been Grandma, firing from her position. One of the wolves fell, and that was all it took to confirm to the rest that the red laser was attached to a rifle scope.

The pack scattered, and I ran for the crossbow Marissa had dropped in the street. As I dove for it, a motorcycle roared to life and came screaming out of the alley on its rear tire. The biker leaned forward, dropping the front tire to the road, and spun around next to me. The headlight was blinding, and I had to put my hand over my eyes to shield them from the glare.

It was Grandma! She looked bigger than life, like an action-movie hero, steering with one hand, holding her pistol in the other at arm's length.

She had the gun aimed directly at a wolf that was baring its fangs at her, snarling. I couldn't be sure, but something about its expression made me think it was A/C.

She took aim, unaware that directly behind her another wolf was getting ready to pounce. It opened its mouth wide, and I saw a glint of gold. It was Marvin!

"Grandma!" I screamed as Marvin started his leap. "No!"

I reached her first and pulled her down off her bike. Her gun fired wild, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the build­ing behind A/C. Marvin leaped over our heads, his slathering mouth right where Grandma's neck would have been if I hadn't grabbed her. I don't think she ever saw him―all she knew was that I had ruined her clean shot.

As Grandma and I were rolling on the street, Marvin scram­bled to a stop, and A/C prepared to leap on us, but I spun around. From behind Grandma's back, I aimed my laser pointer at them, first at Marvin, then at A/C.

"Marvin! A/C!" I shouted from where I lay hidden. "Hunters!"

A/C and Marvin backpedaled, looking around wildly. They turned tail and ran the other way.

"Red!?" Grandma shouted at me when she finally caught her breath. "Are you trying to get me killed? Get out of my way!"

I had no time to explain what had really happened. I scram­bled to my feet and ran in Marissa's direction. She was all by herself, and I was afraid she'd need help.

Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, I saw Marissa facing off with one of the wolves.

It was the biggest, meanest wolf yet. And I knew at once it was Cedric. It didn't matter that he was in wolf form, his pro­file was unmistakable, the sneer on his lips, the scorn in his eye.

I ran toward them, trying to aim the crossbow as I ran.

As Marissa raised her arm to throw a balloon at Cedric, and Cedric poised to leap on her, I screamed, "NO!"

I stopped running, took aim at a point between Cedric's eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The arrow flew straight and true, until it veered toward Marissa at the last second. Time seemed to slow down. I watched in horror and disbelief as the arrow came close to her, then whisked past her and out of sight, narrowly missing her forehead.

Marissa stumbled back a step, dropping the balloon. It seemed to float in midair for a second before plummeting to the pavement, where it burst, the chemical droplets splashing harmlessly on the ground.

Cedric turned and looked in my direction, his menacing snarl twisting into a cruel grin. He looked directly in my eyes and howled.

He knew at last whose side I was on, and it wasn't his!

Cedric turned back to face Marissa, ready to finish her off, but before he could move, another wolf leaped from the shad­ows, reaching toward Marissa with its gigantic jaws. Again I saw a glint of gold coming from the wolf's open mouth.

Marvin? Was Marvin going to devour his own sister!?

I had no more arrows, but I started running toward him anyway.

Marvin caught Marissa in his jaws, his huge mouth grabbing her by the waist, and he raced away with her. He ran down the street, carrying his sister, with Cedric right behind.

I chased them as far as I could, for about three blocks, but they were much too fast for me. I lost them.

Then I heard a gunning motorcycle directly behind me.

I turned around as Grandma caught up to me, looking at me with disbelief and fury.

"You tried to get me killed, Red. You're not even a Wolf yet, and you're serving me up to them!"

"That's not what happened, Grandma!"

"You're a traitor to your family!" She spat out the words. "I don't know you anymore. And I don't want to."

Grandma gunned her motorcycle and took off down the street, leaving me alone.

As soon as she was gone, I heard the sound of heavy paws running toward me down the street. I turned to face the were­wolf. I had nothing to protect myself with, but I wasn't going to die without seeing my attacker.

The wolf ran at full speed in my direction. I looked around for anything to defend myself with, but had nothing. Then I remembered the arrow I had fired, the one that had narrowly missed Marissa. It was behind me in the street.

I turned and ran for it, sliding into the gutter as I grabbed the arrow.

I turned to face the wolf, holding up the crossbow and fum­bling with the arrow as the wolf was nearly upon me, but I wasn't fast enough.

It leaped toward me―I braced for impact―but the wolf never came down.

Of all the crazy things I had seen that night, this was by far the craziest. . .

... because in midleap the werewolf began to change shape. It seemed to shrink in size, its wolf body collapsing to the size of a fox. Its front legs stretched, becoming flaps of skin, which turned into wings. Its rear legs and tail shrank to next to nothing.

The furry thing flapped its wings and sailed over my head. I craned my neck back to see where it was going. It flew crazily, as if it were just getting used to the feeling of flight, and then veered and took off to the north. I watched it until it flew out of sight behind a building.

I put my head back on the pavement and breathed out. I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath. I didn't want to think about what I had just seen, or what it meant. I just wanted to breathe in, and breathe out, assuring myself that I had made it through the battle, and that somehow I was still alive.