03 - Evolution by Greg Cox - (ebook by Undead) Page A

intensity of his feelings. He had known Selene for less
than a week, yet already he couldn’t imagine going on without her.
Selene was nothing like Samantha, the fiancée he had lost so many years
ago. Yet somehow he felt closer to her than he had to any woman since
Sam’s death.
    Guess that’s what happens when you
go through hell together.
    By the time he spied the lights up ahead, he felt as if
he had been slogging through the snow for ages, even though it had only
been about fifteen minutes, tops. His face burned from the cold, and he
had lost all feeling in his fingers and toes. Hunger still gnawed at his
stomach, but the need for warmth was rapidly overtaking his appetite as
a priority. Hopefully, the lights meant that he could take care of both
needs simultaneously.
    Picking up the pace, he staggered out of the forest. He
found himself on the outskirts of a small mountain town consisting of a
meager collection of run-down, weather-beaten buildings running along a
single main street; you could probably drive from one end of the town to
the other in less than two minutes. Michael spotted a service station,
some darkened storefronts, and—thank God!—a tavern. Most of the town
looked as if it hadn’t woken up yet, but Michael was relieved to see
lights burning inside the tavern. He mentally thanked the bar’s
customers for staying up into the wee hours of the morning.
    Cars and pickup trucks were parked outside the tavern.
Michael dragged himself across the snow-covered parking lot. A neon sign
informed him in Hungarian that the place was open all night, which was
the best news he had heard all week. He yanked open the front door and
was greeted by a rush of hot air. All right, he thought, basking in the sudden warmth. Just what
the doctor ordered.
    The interior of the tavern was rustic in the extreme.
The patrons sat on wooden benches in front of crude log tables. Kerosene
lanterns glowed atop the tables, while a single lamp hung from one of
the thick oak beams supporting the ceiling. Sawdust covered the floor.
Old-fashioned cracker barrels were stacked in the corners. A horizontal
mirror, mounted behind the rough-hewn bar, reflected Michael’s
bedraggled features. He brushed his hair back in an attempt to look a
little less pathetic. A neon sign advertised Kobanyai brand beer. A
silent jukebox occupied the back wall, next to a flashing pinball
machine. A TV set, propped up in one corner, was tuned to a local news
station. A Hungarian weatherman predicted snow.
    No shit, Michael thought.
    His entrance attracted a few curious stares. Michael
guessed they didn’t get a lot of strangers in these parts, especially at
this godforsaken hour. His heart stopped momentarily as he spotted a
pair of uniformed policemen sitting at one of the tables. Just my luck, he thought bitterly. Were the
police still looking for him concerning that shoot-out in the Metro
station? The last two police officers who had picked Michael up for
questioning had turned out to be a couple of lycans in disguise, but
that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still in hot water with the authorities.
Hell, he had practically attacked one of his fellow residents back at
the hospital, while raving incoherently about bite marks and
hallucinations. How could the police not be
after him? He swallowed hard and tried not to look too guilty.
    Damn, he thought. I should have checked out the parking lot more
carefully.
    Selene would never have made a mistake like this.
     
    As always, Marcus was amazed at how much the
world had changed in two hundred years. When last he had gone into the
earth, at the dawn of the nineteenth century, Buda and Pest had been two
separate cities, divided by the winding waters of the mighty Danube. Now
a unified capital, linked by many imposing bridges, lay beneath him as
he soared through the frigid night sky. The modern miracle of
“electricity” lit up the sprawling metropolis, so