#Chapter 182 – The Trump Card

Inside the house, Ian, Emma, and Delia jump when they hear the sound of the bombs.

Mrs. Walsh just sits still. It’s a sound she’s heard before, one she was expecting.

“Wha-” Ian says, his mouth open and his head turned towards the windows, wishing, desperately, that he could see out. “What was that?”

“Bombs, darling,” Mrs. Walsh says from her spot in her armchair by the unlit fire, her head resting back against the fabric, exhausted. “That is the sound of the battle beginning.”

Ian grimaces and Emma knows that he wishes, above all, that he could be there. Ian is a boy who needs to be in on the action – he will be absolutely restless until he feels that he’s at the center of it all, helping his side.

Keeping him here, safe and sound, is torture for him.

“Mom,” Emma says softly, turning her face to her mother, trying again. “This can’t seriously be what you want for your pack, for its future.”

Mrs. Walsh turns her face away, as she did before.

They had tried, earlier, to persuade her. To convince her that a pack with Emma and Evelyn at the head, instead of John and Joyce, would be the better choice for everyone. But she had simply sat down in that chair and not responded – not at all – to anything that Emma had to say.

Delia hadn’t said anything, had merely sat quietly on the sofa. She knows that it’s not her fight. Eventually, Emma had given up and went to sit with Delia. They had sat in silence until the sound of the bombs started.

Ian surprises them all, though, by going to sit in his grandmother’s lap.

She welcomes him there, wrapping her arms around him as he curls up with his head against her chest. She rests her chin on his head.

“Grandmama,” he says softly. “Why does my grandfather hate my dad so much? Why does he want to kill him?”

Her face goes pale at that and she looks down at her grandson. He’s clever enough, she knows, to realize that the two forces going at each other outside are, indeed, his father and his grandfather. So she can’t lie to him to make it any better.

that’s his real intention, Ian,” she says softly. “I don’t think he wants

away the control?” Ian asks, looking up at

avoids the question a little, knowing that her husband is, in fact, the aggressor in this situation – even if Victor is the one to come to the property, Walsh started this fight. “Your grandfather thinks that he will be better at

Ian says, his voice rueful. “Alvin and I are going to inherit both packs in a little bit of time. They’ll be combined anyway. This

terrible waste,” he says finally, his voice very soft. “If people are going to get hurt, even die. When these packs are going to unite anyway, in

then stares at the

his hair in the same way that

against his skin and his eyes as he blinks, surveying the damage done to his enemies. But his scientists had been perfect

the ground, screaming, their hands going to their faces, their eyes, their backs arching in agony as they fight against the chemical attacking their

Victor at their pain – he doesn’t enjoy it, of course – but he wipes it away, knowing that the men will be grateful, in the end. He doesn’t know a single man among them that

Betas, who have likewise turned back towards their foe. A few have fallen, writhing in agony themselves – likely those who hadn’t turned before the

now. With the majority of Walsh and Willard’s forces

opens his mouth and shouts, commanding

they surge forward, picking up speed again as they hurtle towards their

for a wound at every opportunity, instead of a kill. To press the advantage, but

Still, they are too far away still for short-range pistols or even machine guns to accurately shoot, and Walsh’s uninjured forces are scrambling to man the front lines. Victor’s smile

going to just let Victor dash in and take over without a fight. He will

commotion at the center of the ranks, a flurry of activity just inside the chain-link fence surrounding a watch tower. Betas run all over it, swarming like ants, moving equipment and people around under a flurry of

the hell do they need to concentrate on manning a watchtower when his army is rushing forward towards them in

all of the Beta black climbing the steps of the watchtower, Victor

s**t.

suddenly, that Walsh is going to play his trump

ring of static runs over the field and then the sharp piercing noise of an amplifier being attached to a microphone. Several of Victor’s Betas wince but they

booms from a gigantic speaker that swings to the front of the watch tower. Victor ignores the command

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255