Shepherd Moon: Omegaverse: Volume 1 Read Online Free

inside the door, on the ground and stretching into the darkness of the interior. As he reached the door, he turned on the flashlight attached to the end of the rifle’s barrel.
    The leg ended just above the knee. Messily so. He raised the rifle, moving the light beam further into the darkness. The rest of the leg’s owner, more or less, was strewn around the room.
    His friends had moved past him, around the first building toward the center of the open, grassless area surrounded by the buildings. More similarly disassembled colonists were in a pile next to a large container.
    “Well,” said Matt, “it wasn’t greenies.”
    “Nope.” agreed Vince.
    “Werewolves?” asked Duncan.
    “Yup.”
    “Are we screwed?”
    “Most likely,” said Clancey, “Duncan, check out that crate, we’ll get ready.”
    Duncan moved to the crate, opened the lid. As he did, he heard a clicking sound. From the direction they’d just arrived. It sounded like something was tapping on the wall of the first building. On the wall opposite where they now stood. On the wall they’d just passed, a minute ago. His map overlay pulsated, yellow, on the lower, southern, part. Unknown sound.
    The sound continued, and was picked up, in turn, by each building around the circle, clockwise. First to the west, then around to the north, finally completing the circle to the east. The tapping sound grew as more joined. The map pulsed yellow in all directions now.
    Duncan stole a look into the crate, saw only a piece of paper. He grabbed it and thrust it into his backpack without reading it, and raised his rifle to his shoulder.
    “Duncan! You take the north, Vince the east, Clancey the west,” said Matt, “I’ve got the south.”
    The group was now spread, in a diamond, each about 2 meters from the other. A last stand posture, covering all directions. Surrounded.
    “Did anyone bring grenades?” asked Matt.
    “For a milk run?” laughed Vince. “Shit, I only brought a hundred and fifty rounds for the rifle, and a couple of magazines for the pistol.” The tapping continued.
    “I almost forgot, Duncan,” said Clancey, “Ammunition is tied to its magazine. It’s not like a first person shooter game where, if you hit ‘reload’, it just gives you a full load from your total bullets. If you shoot off half a mag, then reload, the magazine that drops still has fifteen of your bullets. Pick it up. That half magazine might come in handy. But don’t let that stop you from reloading during a lull. If we get one.”
    The tapping reached a crescendo, then, simultaneously all around the circle, stopped.
    “When will they … “ Duncan’s question was interrupted when Matt opened fire. He forced himself to keep looking north. Nothing was coming from there, yet. Two dots of red rapidly moved on his map, from the south, northward, then disappeared. Matt had the first two kills of the day. Duncan’s hands began to shake. He heard a metallic sound behind him, and assumed that was Matt reloading. Howling took up where the clicking had left off. Matt opened fire again. Then Vince. Then Clancey. Red dots surged from the south, then the west and east. Duncan then realized Matt had been right. He knew werewolves by sight.
     
    It wasn’t that they looked like stereotypical movie werewolves. They were tall, a little taller than human average. Hirsute. Massive, muscular shoulders and long arms. A long torso tapering down to small hips and short, thin legs. But it was the face that gave them their wolf like appearance. The long dog snout with a too large mouth that had an impossibility of teeth. They seemed designed solely to render; the top and bottom rows nothing but long canine teeth. It reminded not so much a wolf’s but a shark’s mouth. At least, he thought, from the shape of the teeth.
    Duncan noticed all of this in the split second it took for the werewolf to leap over the building and charge. In the moment Duncan required to jerk his weapon toward the