Free Werewolf Suspense (Book 2): Outage 2 (The Awakening) by T.W. Piperbrook

wouldn't last. He looked over at Mark.
    "The bullets work," he said.
    "Yes. But we're going to run out of ammunition soon," Mark warned. His face was pale in the moonlight. "Save what you have."
    As if on cue, a series of bangs erupted from the rear of the building. A pit formed in Tom's stomach. Despite his hope, they hadn't scared the things off—they'd merely redirected them. He and Mark ducked back into the building.  
    "How stable are the doors downstairs?" Tom asked.
    "I barricaded them as best as I could. But I don't think it'll stop them for long. Not after what we've seen."
    Crashes echoed around the neighborhood, bouncing off the adjacent walls. With the neighborhood silent, each thud took on a life of its own, reverberating off walls and alleys. The noise was as terrifying as the beasts—it signified they were closing in.
    Tom glanced across the street, searching for the woman they'd seen earlier. In the hysteria of the moment, he'd forgotten her. The parking lot was empty. The door had closed.  
    But in the distance, he heard screaming. He surveyed the building. It took him a second to determine the windows had been smashed.
    No. Not her, too.
    Movement drew his attention. More beasts emerged on the horizon. Creatures appeared from alleyways and corners, speckling the landscape black. Their snarls carried with the wind. They converged on the building as if it were a single entity, a fresh carcass fit for consumption.  
    Tom gritted his teeth and repositioned at the window. The moon's pale glow seeped into the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Billy holding his tire iron into the air, threatening the shadows around them. Ashley clung to him for support.  
    "We'll never last in here," she whispered.
    The realization hit Tom like a punch to the stomach. Even though they'd killed several of the beasts—as encouraging as that was—there was no way they could take them all. Sooner or later the things would get inside. He clenched the rifle in his hand, envisioning the four remaining bullets inside. Mark had six, by his count.
    How far would the bullets go?
    He felt trapped. Caged. It was the way he'd felt back at his house, knowing that reprieve was only temporary. He glanced down, surveying the fifty-foot drop to the ground—much too high to consider jumping without serious injury.  
    That was a last resort.
    A crash emanated from somewhere downstairs. Tom heard the sound of glass shattering, objects being trampled. The beasts were inside.
    "Over by the entrance!" Mark yelled, pulling Tom's arm. "We need to get a clear shot once they get to the door! We need to hold them back!"
    "What about us?" Billy asked frantically, holding up his tire iron.
    "Stay put."
    "I want to help!" Billy arched his back. He wielded the tire iron with bravado, even though Tom could tell he was afraid.
    "You should hunker down," Tom said. "Protect Ashley."
    The girl was clutching her boyfriend's arm, her body wracked with fear.
    "Why don't you go in there?" Mark shouted, pointed at the storage room.
    "No way. We're not going in there with that thing," Billy said. "No offense."
    Tom swallowed. The banging downstairs had grown to a crescendo. Ashley pulled Billy's arm, her face contorted with fright.
    "Let's go, Billy! We have to hide."
    "But what if that thing is—"
    "I'll bring you over," Tom said, wielding his rifle. "Come on!" He collected Billy and Ashley and instructed her to bring the flashlight.
    Mark ran toward the barricaded door, skirting machines and tables, while Tom led the frightened kids toward the eastern end of the room. Ashley winked on the flashlight and shined it at the storage room, sniffling as she ran. When they reached the door, Tom raised his gun and sucked in a breath. He threw it open.  
    Mark's brother, Colton, lay on the floor, his naked body marred with bullet holes. His eyes were wide and staring at the ceiling. The room smelled of copper, sweat, and animal musk.  
    Tom lowered his gun.