The parking garage looked like something that had been built on a whim and then left to be used for graffiti practice. It was three levels of weathered concrete, covered with more than enough spray paint to keep anyone from thinking they’d ever get their car back after being stupid enough to park it there.
Poorly lit and closed in by metal grates over the main entrance, it was situated in the middle of Palmer Park, which was about 150 yards from the tree Walter had picked for his perch. During the warmer months, it would have been next to impossible to watch the garage from that spot. But since the branches were bare and the moon was full, Walter had a pretty good view once he climbed into a tree. There was nobody else in that section of the park at the moment, lending credence to the theory that the locals were following their natural instinct to give the predators some room. Cole knew that instinct was very real, because it currently screamed inside his head like a maladjusted car alarm.
“I don’t like Paige going in alone like this,” he said as he paced back and forth beneath Walter’s tree. “I should be with her. I’m her partner.”
Walter sat no more than six feet off the ground, which was more than high enough since there were only dead branches to obstruct his view of the garage. Most of his weight was supported by a thick branch, and he sat with one leg dangling against the trunk. “She knows what she’s doing,” he said as he peered through the scope of the Brown Precision Tactical Rifle.
“I know she does, but I should still be there to help.”
“You are helping.” Walter kept glancing over his scope and through it again so he could make minor adjustments to the lenses and the angle of the sights. “By covering me, I don’t need to look away from this scope, which means I’ll be able to cover her. I’m sure she’d rather have it this way than needing to worry about you.”
The whole town seemed to be asleep. When he looked around the park, Cole saw nothing but frosted grass, bare branches, a few benches, and a locked public restroom.
Staring through the scope, Walter asked, “Do you see Paige yet?”
Cole focused his attention on the road leading up to the parking structure. Although he’d seen her heading that way a while ago, there was no trace of her now. He told Walter as much and continued pacing around the tree.
“Just let me know the minute she shows. I’ll keep an eye on the garage. It doesn’t look like there’s much of anything going on there either. I count at least four Nymar inside. Possibly five. There’s more than that sneaking around, though.”
“What are they doing?” Cole asked. “Is it some kind of meeting?”
Walter shook his head without moving it more than a centimeter in either direction. “I just track ’em and point you guys in the right direction.”
“Why even do that much?” Cole asked.
This time Walter did look away from his scope, to fix his eyes on Cole. “Excuse me?”
“I kind of got pulled into this, but nobody forced me to stay. If you don’t want any part of it, why don’t you just leave?”
Slowly, Walter shifted his eyes back to the scope. “I spent a good amount of time in law enforcement, so maybe I’m no stranger to seeing hopeless situations. A man’s gotta do what he can.”
“So why not be a Skinner?” Cole asked.
Walter shifted against his branch. “I’ve also seen plenty of men think they could save the world and only wind up getting chewed up and spit out by it. If a man gets lucky a few times and survives a few bad calls, he gets cocky. Once he gets cocky, he gets killed. Think whatever you want about me, but you Skinners must be awfully cocky to keep going against these creatures. Learning about them is one thing. Pissing them off on purpose is another.”
“Yeah? Well…” Cole tried to put together a good comeback but could only grumble, “That actually makes sense.”
After a few quiet seconds, Walter asked, “What about you? From what I’ve heard, you were there to see what happened to Gerald and Brad. If it was a Full Blood, it couldn’t have been a pretty sight.”
“It wasn’t, but I survived because of them. Gerald asked me to do him a favor and I wasn’t about to refuse. After that…I don’t know. Things just sort of fell into place.”
Walter smirked and nestled his cheek against the side of his rifle. “See what I mean? I’ve seen it with Skinners just as much as I’ve seen it with cops. They luck out of a few bad situations and they think they’re untouchable.”
“Lucky?” Cole asked. “If I was lucky, I’d be back home, playing my games, secure in the knowledge that werewolves and vampires were just cool characters in them. I’ve already seen enough to blow that to hell, so now I’ve got to do something about it.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah,” Cole said reflexively. He took a moment to think it over and then nodded again. “I do. If I left now, I’d only feel guilty every time I heard about some wild animal attack or bizarre murder on the news. I’d wonder if it was one of those creatures that did it, and then I’d wonder if I could’ve kept it from happening.”
“You won’t be able to prevent all the killing, you know.”
“Sure, but I can try.”
Shifting to get more comfortable in his spot, Walter said, “I suppose we all just gotta do what we can. Right now you gotta keep your eyes open because one of the Nymar is talking to a few others inside that garage.”
“Is it Misonyk?” Cole asked anxiously.
“Big bald guy with black marks running up to the top of his head?”
“Yeah,” Walter said. “And it looks like he’s about to step outside.”
“Shit,” Cole snapped. “I can see a bunch of them walking toward the front of the garage. Paige is approaching from the other side of the building.”
Already shifting his aim to the wide entrance of the parking structure, Walter nestled the rifle’s stock against his shoulder and adjusted his cheek in its spot beside the scope. “I see them.”
“What should I do?”
“You know what to do! Paige can take care of herself. Just keep your eyes open for anyone coming at us and I’ll let you know when I hear from her.”
Although he wasn’t the one who got to use the sniper rifle, Cole wasn’t completely overlooked in the firearms department. The revolver he’d been given was a .44 loaded with rounds that had dark streaks running through them, making them strangely similar to their intended targets. He checked again to make sure the revolver was loaded, then dropped the .44 back into the holster under his arm. He then picked up his wooden weapon, which had been leaning against a tree, and held it like a spear. There was nobody close enough to be of much concern to him or Walter, so he held the spear with his fingers around the barbs. There would be plenty of time to bleed later.
Paige walked up to the parking structure and immediately spotted the reception committee that was headed toward the front entrance. From within the garage, several men and a few women pushed on the metal grate so they could slip through a gap where it had fallen off the track built into the cement doorway.
The men and women who swarmed toward the garage were extremely pale, which meant they were hungry. Their markings were gray, skinny threads stretching beneath their flesh and extending all the way to their hands and up to their chins. The Nymar were definitely fresh kills. Their spores had settled in, but were still stretching out to probe theirs new hosts.
“Here they come,” Paige said just loud enough for her voice to be picked up by her earpiece. “They’re freshly infected. Looks like Misonyk has been expecting trouble.”
“I got ’em,” he replied. “Just try to draw them out into the open so I can get a clear shot.”
The shotgun in her hands was a pump action that could hold half a dozen specially packed shells. She pumped the first round into the chamber, put the shotgun to her shoulder and aimed at the closest target.