Wonder Woman was created by Dr William Moulton Marston in 1941 and is the © copyright trademark of DC Comics. My Wonder Woman stories are only fan fiction and based, primarily, on the 1970s CBS TV show (albeit, updated to the present time of writing). However, any resources from adaptations and the comics may be utilised. All characters are entirely fictional. With the exception of Diana / Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor, these stories and characters are my own creations, unless otherwise stated. In my stories Wonder Woman is the only known superhero.
05 A Pack of Wolves
Should he or shouldn’t he open the coffin was the question Texas Denton considered while he smoked. He put the Twin Otter on autopilot and stood over the shiny black casket; he had made room for it in the passenger cabin by uprooting the seats. Denton knew Goldman was crooked, but the question was exactly how crooked?
If Denton’s instincts were correct, he wouldn’t find the burnt remains of Dr Laing – at least not just him – but something much more interesting like a casket filled to the brim with cash. Besides, if illegal tender was being transported, he had the right to know – right?
Such high moral convenience persuaded Texas to find out. As he suspected, the casket was locked. Pulling down a flap on the front of the coffin revealed a numerical keypad, rather than a traditional screw lock. The unusual security only heightened Denton’s interest in the contents.
Fast losing patience with the impossible task of guessing the numerical combination, Texas grabbed a crowbar from the storage cupboard. He attempted to pop the coffin’s lid open with all the subtlety of cracking a walnut. Predictably, he damaged the casket but with most unpredictable consequences; the hole he made in the coffin leaked sickly chloroform into the passenger cabin. Texas succumbed to its effects before he had time to react; the crowbar clattered to the floor next to him.
About ten minutes later, Denton awoke to a fresh brisk air circulating around the cabin and the pure beauty of Wonder Woman looking over him; her all absorbing gaze transfixing him like two bright sparkling sapphires that he couldn’t turn away from.
“What happened?” he dozily said, “Wonder Woman, how did you get here?”
“You were struck down by a type of chloroform that was released when you chipped a hole in the coffin. By doing so – you inadvertently did me a favour – the toxicity dropped just enough to allow me to crush the chloroform canister’s nozzle inside the casket.”
“You were in the casket?” Then, Texas yelled, “JESUS! WE’RE STILL AIRBORNE – I’VE GOT TO GET TO THE CONTROLS!”
Denton tried to move from his seat, but found himself mysteriously bound.
“Relax, I’ve taken care of everything” said Wonder Woman, “I have you in my Lasso of Truth because I want you to tell me all you know about your work for Gerry Goldman …”
Lying face down on the subterranean ridge, Marsha Cross couldn’t watch her own annihilation. When a gentle tap on the shoulder encouraged her to look up, she still had to turn away from the deformity of the tumoured man standing over her.
“It’s all right, I won’t bite,” he jested in a low pitch whine.
With her hands over her eyes, Marsha asked, “Where’s that Snapper creep gone, man?”
“I saw him about to eat you, as I made it to the top of the ridge,” he breathily explained, “I grabbed his leg with my arms and he fell all the way back down to the ground – he’s now dinner for the hungry – take a look.”
Marsha dared to peer over the edge to witness hungry mutants tearing Snapper’s carcass apart at the bottom of the ravine.
“I don’t want to eat you,” he reassured her.
“I’m embarrassed, man,” admitted Marsha, “You saved my life and I can’t even look at you.”
Covered in black mussel shell-like tumours, the size of a hand, he was a horrific sight. Scant fur grew on his limbs and in between the mutated clusters. The man’s face looked human with a jaundiced complexion, and a bend of his nose, disfigured at a near right angle. His hands and feet were strong, dark, and chunky, but still characteristically that of an ape.
“What’s your name, bro?” asked Marsha.
“Derek Boden is who I was.”
“Tis terrible, man, what they’ve done to you.”
“Don’t pity me,” Boden said, “I’m not a good person, I’ve robbed people my whole life – we’re all criminals in this hell paying for our sins – what is yours?”
“Mine? Oh, I’m just your regular double-agent – no big deal.”
“It’s enough,” Boden replied.
Sitting up, inspecting the superficial scratches on her leg, Marsha said, “I’ve gotta get out of here. Do you know a way to exit this joint?”
“There is no way,” he lamented, “All paths lead into only greater darkness.”
“There must be a way, man, Goldman said the wolves are to attack the Palmer Station.”
“The wolves are gathering,” observed Boden, “I’ve seen this before – there might be a chance – we must follow them.”
“Hey, man, WHAT YOU DOIN’?” bellowed Marsha, at Boden, lifting her legs and snapping the stiletto heels off them.
“You need to be able to climb,” he answered, “It’s a treacherous rock face. We’ll take the mutant side down and hope they’re too distracted by Snapper’s carcass to care about you.”
A shocking, panic evoking, rumbling growl vibrated throughout the caves; even the mutants stopped chewing the carcass long enough to gulp. Obedient wolf-men sang in unison in the ravine, awaiting their master. The wirily frame of Gerry Goldman could be seen overlooking the pack from the top of the gorge.
It was impossible for the wolf-men to ascend, as the rock was just too steep. This is why Goldman pulled a lever and a coiled metal ladder wound down from the chamber’s ceiling. As soon as the ladder swung in reach of the wolves, Goldman retreated back into the cave tunnel. One by one, the wolf-men climbed the ladder to the top of the ravine, howling in rejoinder to the recurring thunderous roars up above.
Hiding behind a boulder, Marsha quivered at the almighty wolf call reverberating around the caves, “What the hell is that?”
“Whatever it is, the wolves are under its influence – this is our chance,” panted Boden.
When the last pair of florescent green eyes made it up the ladder, Boden and Marsha hurried along to catch the ladder for themselves.
“GOD DAMN DOGS!” yelled the head of security.
The huskies galloped through the snow as if their lives depended on it. They sprinted down the slope of the huge glacier, above Palmer Station, with Leon Pattison in tow. His search for Diana Prince had proven fruitless.
When they arrived, Leon was too disgruntled, ushering the dogs into the kennels, to notice the fear in their eyes; their whimpering too loud for him to hear the cries of help; too absorbed in himself too notice the blood in the snow.
He then had the strangest sense of a husky breathing down his neck. Pattison turned around just long enough to see a wolf-man knock him to the ground. He gasped to the blast of a gunshot; and again. The wolf-man lay dead in the snow next to him.
“COME ON!” called Tucker, “THERE’S WEREWOLVES EVERYWHERE!”
Dazed Pattison wiped the creature’s splatted blood off his face. As quick as his sluggish body could carry him, he joined Tucker in the sanctuary of the dormitory. Three more shot dead wolf-men lay the outside the door.
“They keep coming for us, but so far, I’ve managed to see them off with this trusty M16 – it’s our only firearm.” Tucker informed.
“Okay,” Pattison confirmed, “I’ll take charge now.”
The station’s workers gathered in the bar. Most people were naturally terrified. Palmer scientists were urgently discussing what the wolf-men could possibly be and how they came into existence. One of them knew the answer to both of these questions, but Del Hives preferred to hug a bottle of Scotch at the bar, listening to others.
“I’m really scared,” Elizabeth admitted, “I can’t stop shaking.”
“Drink this bourbon,” Templeton said, “It will steady your nerves.”
“I can’t, I feel sick,” she replied, “Do those monsters want to eat us?”
“No … “
“She’s right!” cut in PJ, “There’s no point lying about it! They’re going to kill us – every last one of us!”
“Keep it together, man!” pleaded Templeton.
A burst of chilling laughter erupted along the bar.
It was Del toasting their doom, “PATHETIC! Have a drink, quitters – I mean, you may as well – you’re a wolf feast in waiting!”
“Ignore her, she’s drunk,” said Templeton.
“But she’s could have been in on this from the start,” retuned PJ.
“Yeah, all those secret experiments,” agreed Elizabeth, “Who knows what she’s been doing, or what really happened to Doctor Laing?”
The sight of Leon Pattison gaining the staff’s attention avoided any further discussion.
“Okay, people,” Pattison firmly instructed, “I do believe we have a situation here.”
He was in commanding form, as if his entire life had been building to this moment.
“We’ve counted all the bodies present. The only staff member missing is Gerry Goldman who was last seen entering the labs. I’ve decided I should cross over to my office where there’s more ammunition and search for him. Tucker will cover me. Keep the door secure until we get back.”
“But that’s where these werewolves are coming from,” said someone.
“We’re aware of the risks.”
Two more wolf-men were rattling the dormitory. Tucker pulled the top floor window down and let fire with the M16.
“LET’S MOVE!” Tucker roared.
Armed with his handgun, Pattison unlocked the door and made his way past the dead wolf-men to the main complex. Locking up after him, Tucker shadowed Leon. The corridor was clear to Pattison’s office.
Leon was gathering armaments when Gerry Goldman emerged from the labs. The director gestured to Tucker to keep quiet and escort him outside.
“Give me a hand would ya, Tucker?” called Pattison.
As with a little earlier, in the kennels, Leon felt the twinge of an eerily palpable presence behind him. It was different only in the enormity of the beast he knew was there; its silhouette overshadowing the wall and ceiling; its breathing was heavy and deep. Pattison screwed his eyes shut and then turned to face the full horror. His gun went off, but it wasn’t any use.
“Laing, is that you?” would be Leon’s last desperate sentence.
The terrible wolf-man covered Pattison’s face with a colossal clawed hand, and crushed his head, like the shell of an egg.
For Part 6: Click Here.