Enemy Within (Moira Ashe Book 1)

After spending the majority of the day resting, Moira and Lincoln were now waiting to ambush the beast near the east entrance to tunnels under the town.

The plan was simple—wait until the werewolf emerged from the tunnels, and then Moira would blow it away with her blunderbuss. But in case the plan failed, Lincoln knew what to do. Before they both settled into their ambushing position, Moira showed him a small alcove not far from their location, and Lincoln had committed the way to the alcove to his memory. It didn’t build his confidence in her or in the plan, but he could defend himself if it came to it.

While the time dragged on as they waited, Lincoln shifted his sitting position, but he didn’t dare make a sound or take his hand off his weapon.

Unlike him, Moira was focused on the tunnel entrance. She never broke eye contact with the opening or took her finger off the trigger of her weapon. Lincoln even dozed off for a few minutes before he was shaken awake. Before he could ask what was wrong, Moira held her left hand over his mouth and pointed to her ear then to the tunnel. Lincoln said nothing and turned his head to listen while Moira shifted her attention back to the tunnel.

Lincoln couldn’t hear it at first, but after a while of waiting, the sound grew louder. The flow of the tunnel became weaker as a soft sloshing noise became stronger.

Lincoln’s pulse quickened as the sound got louder. This was the moment he had been waiting for! His quest would be over after tonight. His body stiffened as he saw his first glimpse of the beast. The creature was slow to emerge at first, poking out its snout into the scant moonlight. Its nostrils flared, waving from side to side as Lincoln held his breath. It strode forward into the night, revealing a pair of massive shoulders only hinting at the beast’s true size.

Flashbacks appeared in his mind as he watched the lycanthrope. It was large in stature, even in its hunched position. Thick reddish fur covered most of its body, and where it didn’t, muscle could be seen bulging under the skin. But Lincoln knew that the creature could run much faster than its large frame let on.

The beast pulled itself onto the riverbed and scanned its surroundings. Rising to stand with its clawed hands bent towards its chest, the creature’s wolfish head sniffed and searched as it stalked forwards, still dripping with water. It turned to where Moira and Lincoln were hidden. The creature’s eyes burned in the night as it approached them, still seemingly unaware of their presence.

Lincoln’s hands became sweaty, and his breathing turned into rapid gasps as the lycanthrope got closer and closer to their position. It took all of his willpower to control his breathing. Moira, on the other hand, was completely calm as she waited for the perfect time. Unfortunately, that time never came. The creature stopped and snarled at their position. Its ears flattened as it bore a massive set of pointed teeth. Moira pulled the trigger as the beast turned away.

The sound of thunder tore through the night as the weapon discharged, sending a dozen small balls speeding towards the beast. But instead of colliding head-on, most punched into the creature while the rest missed completely, tattering the beast’s shoulder.

The werewolf was thrown sideways but was back on its feet in an instant. It glared at the two of them as blood streamed from its shoulder.

Moira threw her blunderbuss over her shoulder as she said one word. “Run.”

Lincoln turned and bolted towards the small alcove as the creature growled and rushed them.

Lincoln didn’t look behind him as he ran through the forest, dodging the thick brush and low-hanging branches, praying that he did not lose his footing. He kept running even after hearing the sound of three gunshots fired behind him. It was only when he reached the alcove that he checked to see how Moira was doing.

She was running for the alcove with the werewolf close behind her. Unlike Moira and Lincoln, the beast wasn’t trying to avoid anything as it barrelled its way through whatever lay in front of it. The natural barriers helped slow the lycanthrope down, allowing Moira to stay ahead of the beast.

Lincoln quickly squeezed his way into the hiding place as Moira rushed towards him. He shuffled into the back of the hole as Moira reached the alcove. Unlike Lincoln, Moira didn’t stop at the entrance. She slid full force into Lincoln, slamming him into the back wall of the hole.

Moira turned to fend off the beast. Reaching the alcove a few seconds after Moira, it too slammed at full speed against the alcove. It twisted sideways, attempting in vain to pull itself into the small space. Abandoning its efforts, the creature glared at the pair and stalked around the entrance.

Lincoln caught his breath as Moira pulled a number of paper pouches out of her coat. She turned to face him.

“Reload the guns. Pistols first—they’re faster.”

Lincoln accepted the pouches and began reloading Moira’s pistols as she unslung her blunderbuss from her shoulder. It was hard reloading the weapons in such tight quarters and with barely any light, but Lincoln managed to slowly complete his task.

The beast stalked near the alcove as Moira and Lincoln worked. Knowing that they would not leave and that it was unable to get at them, the beast left.

“Ah, damn it,” Moira muttered to herself.

“What’s happening?” Lincoln asked as he finished loading one of her pistols.

Moira turned to him. “We have to keep the beast here.”

Lincoln didn’t like the sound of that. “What are you doing?”

“Wait here.” Moira traded him the blunderbuss for her pistol and grabbed the pistol from his belt. “I’ll be back in a second—trust me.” Moira held the pistol up in both hands as she hurried to catch up with the werewolf.

Lincoln watched her exit the alcove and stayed where he was, instead focusing on loading Moira’s weapons. Lincoln heard the twin snaps of the two pistols discharge, which was followed by a vicious snarl. It didn’t take long for Moira to return, and she re-entered the alcove. She squeezed against Lincoln as the beast reached in after her.

Moira passed the two empty guns back to Lincoln as she stood just out of the beast’s reach.

“There.” Moira smiled as she caught her breath. “We’re back in business.”

Huge claws raked the walls of the hole as the enraged creature snarled and barked at them. Moira pulled out her large silver knife and slashed at the beast’s hands. The blade cut the back of the creature’s hand. The lycanthrope withdrew its hand as it let out a pained snarl.

The beast changed tactics. Using its powerful front limbs, the creature frantically pulled away large handfuls of dirt, widening the entrance of their hiding place.

Moira held her hand out behind her, never taking her eye off the opening. “Hand me the pistols!”

Lincoln passed the loaded pistols to her as she shot the beast one after another.

Despite being shot point-blank, the beast was only slowed down; its determination willed it to continue digging.

Smoke began filling the space.

Moira pressed closer to Lincoln as the beast shortened the distance between them. “Blunderbuss, now!”

Lincoln passed her the blunderbuss.

Moira didn’t bother aiming and fired the weapon from the hip. After hearing Moira shout for the weapon, the werewolf attempted to move out of the entrance to the hole, but it was only able to avoid some of the shots as rounds punctured it.

Lincoln was temporarily deafened by the sound of the gun firing in such a closed space and blinded by the amount of dirt that exploded around the east side as rounds punched into the walls of the alcove. Moira passed him back the weapon as even more smoke filled the alcove. Lincoln didn’t both reloading the pistol; he focused solely on reloading the blunderbuss as fast as he could.

Slamming into the alcove, the lycanthrope reached back into the hole. This time, however, there wasn’t enough distance to protect Moira.

Moira let out a pained growl through her teeth as the beast’s claws tore through the shoulder pads of her coat and into her right shoulder. Moira slipped as the beast pulled her towards it. She struggled out of the creature’s grasp as she crawled towards Lincoln.

The beast snatched her left leg and retreated behind the outside of the alcove in an attempt to shield itself from harm.

Fortunately, this stopped the beast from using its full strength, allowing Moira to brace herself against the tunnel walls.

Lincoln was horrified, but he never stopped loading the weapon, even as Moira struggled against the beast’s power and her blood soaked the ground beneath her.

As soon as the weapon was loaded, Lincoln shouldered the blunderbuss. He only caught glimpses of the creature’s arm through the smoke as it jerked back and forth. With Moira in such close proximity to his target, Lincoln fired high into the entryway.

Bullets buried themselves into the walls, sending explosions of debris throughout the refuge, while others found their mark. The creature roared as rounds rendered flesh, forcing it to release its grip and withdraw its arm.

Freed from the beast, Moira scrambled to her feet as Lincoln loaded the weapon with the last of the gunpowder and bullets.

“Are you all right?” Lincoln asked Moira as he continued to load the weapon.

“I’m used to it,” Moira replied, clenching her teeth, as she wrapped the cloth over the tattered shoulder of her coat.

Both of them froze as heavy steps above them heralded in a cascade of dust, creating a choking concoction with the smoke. They looked at each other and then to the ceiling. Moira drew her knife while Lincoln quickened his pace. The rain of dirt continued as the lycanthrope dug above them.

Lincoln pointed the barrel of the weapon to the ceiling, waiting for the beast to get close enough to fire the weapon. But the beast’s labours ceased at the sound of gunfire and shouting. Rushed footstep took off towards the town as a stampede of smaller ones followed.

Moira and Lincoln remained inside the alcove as bullets buried themselves into the ground above. They didn’t emerge until the pursuing guards had passed over them. Once outside, Moira and Lincoln took quick, shallow breaths of fresh air as smoke bellowed into the night behind them. Moira removed her hat, brushing off the dirt and debris before returning it to her head, while Lincoln was bent over, running his hand repeatedly through his short brown hair.

Flynn ran out of the darkness to meet them, as the night fell silent again.

Sweat shined upon Flynn’s crinkled brow. “We lost it underneath the town. I don’t even think we hit the damn thing.” He inhaled sharply when he spotted Moira clutching her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He reached out to inspect her, but Moira waved him off. “I can handle it.”

Lincoln moved to examine her. “You should let me look at that.”

Moira shrugged him off too as she growled at him. “I’ve handled this kind of thing before. I don’t need your help. I just need to get back to my room!”

Lincoln withdrew from her as he went to retrieve the empty pistols from the alcove.

Moira did not speak another word as she replaced her pistols, slung her blunderbuss over her good shoulder, and made for home.

Lying in bed later, Lincoln couldn’t get to sleep.

Between the excitement of the failed hunt and the injury Moira sustained from it, his concern for her safety forbid him from his rest.

He could hear her faint cries, accompanied by the slight scent of singed flesh.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the suffering of his neighbour. It was no use. Lying on his bed, Lincoln counted the seconds as his mind wandered. Tonight hadn’t gone exactly as he had hoped, but he couldn’t fault Moira’s bravery. Putting herself between him and the beast had been no small feat. Maybe it didn’t change the lies, but he wouldn’t repay such an act with abandonment. He contemplated going to help her, but she had refused his help before, and he didn’t dare disturb her during such a delicate procedure.

Her muffled sobs ceased several minutes later, but it was only when the scent dispelled hours later, that Lincoln finally fell asleep.