Once upon a time, when Charming was still maintaining an air of civility, he had set up an industrial complex, some way out of Ateer. Similarly to the Farm, it had been meant for those who would work with their hands and produce the much needed luxuries or necessities to keep a city running. The first cars had sprung from the factories and warehouses, as well as the original Terminals that had begun the Dreamscape. Now the entire complex lay abandoned. Giant red brick buildings being slowly overtaken by moss, the iron lattices between them rusting away to nothing.

  Red pulled the bike to a stop near the river than ran alongside the factory, kicking the stand out and swinging herself off into the dirt. Moss grew ankle deep everywhere, and she couldn’t see any signs of it being disturbed. Nevertheless she took her revolvers, stringing two belts of ammo at her waist. She put the holster for her sawn-off shotgun on her back and half a dozen knives into their various scabbards. She took her pistols as well, but only a couple of spare magazines. She was now equipped to take out a small army, though hopefully the most she’d find in there were a few rats.

  There was a rusted lock and chain on the front door that she snapped with a single solid kick. Inside it was pitch black, the windows painted over or blocked with wooden beams. She drew a torch and a revolver, holding them in front of her and scanning from left to right. As she expected there was a thick layer of dust on the floor, and it hadn’t been disturbed either. There was in short no sign that anyone or anything had been near the factory in years. But she still had a bad feeling about the place. That feeling had saved her life in the past, and she wasn’t about to ignore it now.

  She moved as quickly as she could through the atrium, heading for a door she could see off to one side. A light seemed to be shining from beneath it. She leaned against the wall and aimed carefully, turning the handle slowly and quietly before sliding it open. Dust plumed at her feet and she stepped back, shining her light around the inside. There was an old bulb flickering softly in the centre of the ceiling, but no sign that the room had been disturbed. She glided silently into the room, checking the corners and every dark nook and cranny. There were no marks in the dust, no drag marks from chairs, no hand prints or scuffs from boots. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t looking for paw prints.

  The light hadn’t turned itself on, and it couldn’t have stayed on since the factory closed down three years earlier. Someone had definitely been there and turned the power on. She stood in the middle of the room and listening closely, trying to remember all the old tricks she had needed and used for her hunting when she was younger. She hadn’t needed them for years, nothing had been challenging enough. Now as she focused she could hear the thrum of a generator, deep in the centre of the complex. She wanted to know who had turned it on.

  She found another door on the other side of the office, opening it and slipping through into one of the old production floors. The gigantic machines that had once churned out the various technologies of Ateer now stood abandoned and rusting, like the rest of the building. Rainwater came in through a hole in the roof, and outside it pounded the windows, reverberating through the floor. She thought this floor had once made the Terminals which were now so ubiquitous on the streets of the city. At the very back of the room was a spiral staircase, which she headed towards.

  Just as she put a foot on the first rung a noise from above caught her attention. She snapped her head up in time to see a shadow dashing away into the gloom. She hurried to the top, shining her torch down at the ground to see paw prints leading away and into a dark corridor. She breathed deeply and tried to will her heart to calm down. Just because there paw tracks she shouldn’t worry. Wolves had used the factory before, and probably would again. She was just on edge because of the other problems they faced.

  Still moving cautiously she followed the tracks down the corridor, revolver out and checking the shadows. The prints continued, the wolf ahead making no effort to remain hidden. She emerged from the corridor into an open floor, a few chairs scattered on the floor among broken desks. There were windows along one side looking into another section of the factory. She went to those windows, looking out into a storage area. There were shelves still stacked with boxes, although most of them were empty. Ahead a shadow moved and she followed, faster now that there were fewer hiding places.

  Beyond the next doorway was a staircase, and here all of the dust was gone, clearly swept away recently. She gritted her teeth and backed into a corner, checking first up, then down. This wasn’t just a lone wolf. She had fallen into a trap. She looked back through the door she had just entered, but there were shapes moving into the office, hulking figures with eyes that glinted in the dim light. She crouched low and began to descend the stairs, moving as quickly as she dared. There was no more trace of the wolf she had followed in, but she knew it couldn’t be far away.

  At the bottom of the stairs she found two doorways, both locked. The one on the right had a solid steel bar welded into place, but she wouldn’t be able to open the one to the left without alerting every wolf to her exact location. She put the torch away, waiting until her eyes adapted to the darkness. She would need to make a break for it, and she couldn’t risk that her torch would be dropped or lost in the mad scramble. She took another few deep breaths, then kicked hard at the handle.

  The lock shattered under her boot, the door swinging open with a screech that could be heard throughout the factory. She exploded forwards immediately, barrelling down the darkened corridor at top speed. To her right she could see glimmers of light, shining through windows set high up in the ceiling. The area to her right seemed to be an open space, but she didn’t want to risk running into it when she wasn’t sure where it led. The path in front of her ended with another office, she could see, and if she could get into it she would have a position she could defend. She put on another burst of speed, but after only a few steps something hit her hard on the back of the neck.

  As she tumbled to the floor, she heard something breathing, off in the darkness. She tugged her revolver out from the holster, getting it snagged on her jacket. The breathing quickened, and there was a light tapping, getting faster and faster, as the thing moved around her. She couldn’t tell quite where it was coming from, the echoes seeming to come from both in front and behind. Sweeping her jacket away to expose her sawn-off she took an experimental step back, but the floor dropped away sharply under her foot. For a moment she was unbalanced on the edge.

  “I wouldn’t go there.”

  She froze, the voice drawing a memory from the past. For a second she was a little girl again, holding a revolver that was far too big, and the Wolf was bearing down on her. As she shook her head to clear the memory, the lights blasted on, blinding her one remaining eye. She squinted, and was able to make out a hazy shape, only a few feet away.

  “Hello my dear.” She pulled her revolver up, but he only smiled. “Nine bullets, and you still couldn’t kill me. You’ll have no better luck this time.”

  Her sight was clearing rapidly, and she could see that she was on the mid-level of some sort of industrial warehouse. There were storage crates everywhere, and on the floor below a long line of metal shelving, stretching nearly to the second floor. She looked forward again to where the Wolf stood. He hadn’t moved, which she found strange, then at the edge of her peripheral vision she saw more movement, hulking figures crouched low to the floor. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw hurt and took the sawn-off out of the holster, covering her left as well as she could.

  “Why are you here?” She asked, ashamed to hear the quaver in her voice.

  The pack all laughed, a deep and disturbing sound. “I’m going to kill you, little girl.”

  “Fifteen years and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you,” she said, desperately stalling while she tried to think of anything she could do. “Why now?”

  The Wolf dropped to all fours and raised his hackles, baring every one of his teeth. “I finally caught your scent. And my how you’ve grown. You’ve slaughtered hundreds of my brothers.” He was snarling now, and she knew the attack could be only seconds away.

  “All the better to kill you.” There was one idea, and one idea only. It was insane, but she was already backed against the wall, so to speak.

  She had definitely said the right thing. He went low and pounced almost in one motion, giving her only a second to swing her revolver round and fire, springing backwards as she did. If he had been paying attention he would have seen how her centre of gravity was lower, how she had moved so one of the shelves was directly behind her, how her heels had moved right over the edge, giving her an extra surface to shove against as she launched herself away from the wall. But he was angry, remembering the last time she had shot him, how he had goaded her with the same words she used on him.

  It was a short drop, but it seemed to happen in slow-motion. She could see every detail of his teeth, the dark pit of his mouth. Matted dirty fur surrounding the maw and yellow eyes burning into her. She could see the scar from where she had shot him in the throat and the bump just under his left eye where she had shot him in the head. Her bullet caught him in the shoulder and she watched as blood and matted fur span away.

  She landed hard on her back on the shelf, half-off it and fighting for balance. She got fully onto the shelf as above her the Wolf howled and his pack leapt forwards, springing onto the shelves on either side of her. For them it was only a short jump now to her shelf, but it was a narrow space, and some of them had already overshot and tumbled to the floor. The drop wouldn’t kill them, but she could hear yelps of pain. She bared her teeth and shot one who looked like he was about to jump. The bullet shattered his foreleg and dropped him hard to the metal.

  There was no time to celebrate though. The rest were almost ready to jump, and Big Bad himself was crouched low as well. She got properly to her feet and sprinted for the end of the shelf, grateful that there was nothing under her feet to trip her up. The plank of wood she was on shook as a heavy body thumped down behind her and she fired blind behind her back. It wouldn’t hit, but it might make them nervous. She shoved the sawn-off into its holster again.

  She was nearing the end of the beam, and there was no obvious way down. There was only one way out she could see, and she only had to hope that the wolves weren’t close enough to stop her. Taking a deep breath she went into a skid, her boots tearing splinters from the wood. She looked above her head and saw there were now four wolves on her beam, all racing towards her. She fired above her head and watched them stop for a moment, giving her the second she needed to roll over and grip the edge of the platform, swinging out and round until she was able to drop onto the level below. She was now on the third level, but had wolves above and below, since those on the floor had come to their senses at last and were beginning to climb.

  She fired two more shots, one up and one down. She didn’t think she hit anything above, but one of the climbers fell back from the shelf and tumbled to the ground with a red stain on his side. It hit the floor hard and Red could see the wolf’s head now at a strange angle. Still no time to waste, as in front of her a wolf swung itself down onto her level. She shot it in the head and jumped to the side, grabbing one of the support struts and sliding down it to the second level. She couldn’t go all the way to the bottom, as another of the climbing wolves had decided to use the same strut to climb up to her. She sprinted for the other end of the shelving, the beam above her head shaking as more wolves dropped onto it.

  They were howling in full strength now, and she was fighting her own raging adrenaline. She could feel it flooding her body, threatening to push her into a panic, but if she wanted to have a hope of surviving she would need to keep as clear a head as possible. She could escape them, as long as she could think.

  She reached the end of the shelf and jumped straight forwards, towards a small ledge she had seen set over the door. She would have only one chance, and if she misjudged any part of her manoeuvre she could break her ankle and that would be the end of it. Goldilocks is the one who does all the jumping, she thought in that brief moment as she flew through the air. She landed hard and immediately began to fall back, but she let gravity take her, leaning her upper body forwards so she could catch the ledge with her hands and swing through the door, both feet smashing it open as she went.

  She landed hard in the corridor, losing her balance and rolling to a stop. She forced herself up, trying to find her revolver where it had fallen out of her hand. She snatched it up just as a body crashed to the ground outside the door. Obviously one of the wolves had decided to risk injury and jump from the third or fourth shelf. It charged as she was getting to her feet, but rebounded off the narrow door frame. She fired at it, missing but hitting the wall and sending shards of concrete at it instead. Then she turned and bolted.

  As she ran options raced through her mind. The door was narrow, but not narrow enough, and once they stopped running they would be able to slide through it easily. The place was clearly a warren, and there could be any number of additional ways to get in front of her. She thought that the entire pack was in one place, but if any of them had decided to hang back or set up an ambush she would have to be prepared for them. The revolver was down to one last bullet so she emptied the chamber and reloaded it fresh. There was no time to worry about one unfired bullet.

  Around the corner she found another wide open space, this time with a production machine of some sort in the centre of the room. It looked like it might have been something to do with cars, but she didn’t waste time examining it. There was a howl from deeper in the room and she holstered the revolver, drawing the shotgun instead and sprinting for the other side, where a narrow walkway led into offices. She would need to jump a metal railing that once kept the workers safe from the machine, but it was barely at her waist. She could clear it easily.

  A howl from behind her, and an answering cry from inside the room. Two of them after her. She put on a burst of speed, hearing claws scratching on concrete and the panting of her pursuers. She made it to the railing in time to realise that the wolf in the room was on the side she was about to jump to, and the wolf behind her was close enough that she actually felt his breath on her neck. She threw herself into the air, grabbing the rail with her right hand and using it to propel herself forwards and out of the way of the wolf behind her. She heard his teeth come together as out of the corner of her eye she saw the second one less than a foot away on her blind side.

  The shotgun came round easily until it was almost directly behind her. She squeezed both triggers together and fought to keep it steady against the recoil. There was a scream from behind and the heavy thud of a body dropping. She half expected to feel teeth snatch at her wrist but she had already landed and powered forwards, the railing giving the second wolf a moment’s pause that was enough for her to reach the office ahead. She leapt through the open door and kicked it shut, hearing the lock snap into place automatically. She gave a moment of thanks to whoever had designed it and scrabbled to her feet, cracking the shotgun and ejecting the shells.

  It would take them maybe a minute to get through the door, assuming they didn’t come in another way. She reloaded the shotgun and put it back in the holster, drawing both revolvers and examining the floor plans which were pinned to a nearby noticeboard. Red lines marked visitor routes, blue lines for workers, and a green lines for engineering and maintenance. One green line seemed to run right over the office she was in, but didn’t follow the layout of the walls.

  Red looked round the office, her eyes sweeping the floor until they lit on a vent. She raced over and grabbed a screwdriver from a tool-box under the nearest desk. The screws were almost all rusted, so much so that one good twist with the screwdriver and they simply came apart. Slipping her fingers through the gaps in the mesh covering she yanked hard and the whole thing came off the wall. The door was almost off its hinges from the repeated impacts of the wolves now so she slid herself into the crawlspace beyond and pulled the vent cover back in place, shoving herself backwards as quickly as she could.

  The door flew off its hinges and slammed to the floor, raising dust and grime as the wolves piled over each other to get into the office. Big Bad hauled a couple of them out of his way and stalked in, now on two legs again. “Get that open,” he said, pointing to the other door. Red continued to push herself back until the office was out of sight. It was tight in the vent, too tight to turn around. Her shoulders scraped on the corners and she was forced to keep her arms almost completely straight about her head. The only consolation was that it would be completely impossible for a wolf to follow her down. She only had to hope that the vent wasn’t exposed in any other part of the factory.

  “Wait.” She could hear Big Bad dropping to all fours and sniffing at the floor. She had been afraid of this. “Very clever girl.” He must have had his face right up against the grill. “But we will catch you.”

  Her skin crawled at his voice, and her breath came hard in her throat. She panicked in the confined space and got stuck, thrashing for several minutes before she managed to free herself. All the walls she had built over the years were coming down, her thoughts racing out of control. She found the end of the vent, a pipe several feet above a dirty pool of water. Runoff from the plant had formed a scummy crust on the water. She broke through and was submerged completely. Panic got the better of her and she opened her mouth to yell, swallowed a mouthful of grime-filled water. She felt clumps of dirt and rust slide down her throat and retched hard, fighting to reach the surface. Her head broke free and she vomited water everywhere, her chest jumping to rid her of it.

  The bank was close by, but her body was shaking so hard it seemed like an ocean before she reached it, fingers digging into the mud as she tried to claw her way to safety. Her thoughts had crystallised into one long scream. Hecan’tbebackHecan’tbebackHecan’tbeback. She retched again and watched thick green slurry fall from her mouth onto the grass. It felt like her entire body was shutting down, and as she spiralled into oblivion the thought kept repeating in her mind. Hecan’tHecan’tHecan’t

 

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