by Chris Fox
The beast studied the room’s two occupants. Blair’s furred form slouched against a waist-high red toolbox, the wheeled kind that held more tools than a person could ever possibly hope to use.
Do not be deceived by his posture. Every part of him strains to detect us. He is powerful. And dangerous. He must be dealt with first.
Her brother stood with a shotgun in hand, a rifle slung across his back, and a pistol holstered at his side. He scanned the very space they occupied, but his gaze roamed past them without any hint of recognition.
“We won’t have to. She’ll find us,” he said, adding more shells to the Remington. She remembered when Dad had bought it for him.
The male is vulnerable. He dies.
Blair had turned to face Trevor, leaving his back to the doorway where the beast lurked. She felt it gather its weight on powerful legs and then leap into the air. Their form rose silently, descending toward Blair’s unprotected back with incredible speed.
Somehow he saw it coming, already spinning toward them. It was too late. The beast tackled Blair’s smaller form, pinning his arms as its jaw latched onto his throat. It bit down in a spray of blood, hot and coppery and wonderful.
The beast seized Blair’s wrists, yanking his arms in opposite directions until they popped free of their sockets. Blair gave a gurgling scream, marred by his ruined throat. The wounds were mortal, at least on a human. The assault was a savage one, designed to cripple a foe before it could react. It worked perfectly. Blair sagged weakly, eyes rolling back into his head. He was dead unless she could do something.
Liz poured everything into seizing control of her arms, just that one part of her. She would not allow this to continue. The beast would be stopped. She was in control here.
No, Ka-Ken. You know not what you do. He is vulnerable. We can claim his strength. He is the Mother’s direct progeny. We will become much greater, gain strength to combat the evil to come.
She was horrified. The beast wanted her to devour Blair. She could feel its thoughts, and they made her furious. She was tired of being the victim, of letting this thing commit atrocity after atrocity while wearing her skin. Never again would she allow this. It was time to put a collar on this fucking thing. Her body grew rigid, no longer pulling Blair’s arms. She could feel. Those were her hands. Her toes.
Then a shape loomed to her side, something metallic flashing in the garage’s wan light. Pain struck like an adder. She watched in shock as her right wrist was severed in a spray of blood. She released Blair, seizing the severed stump with her other hand. Liz could only gape at the sight of her brother already raising the machete for a second strike.
The beast charged from the back of her mind, seizing control once more. It shot out the whole arm, grabbing Trevor around the neck and hoisting him into the air. Then it began to squeeze. Her brother’s eyes bulged in agony. He was a hairbreadth from having his larynx crushed. He seized the machete in both hands, bringing it up in a tight arc. The weapon bit into the beast’s wrist, severing a tendon.
Trevor dropped to the floor, dropping the machete with a clatter as he rolled backward and came to his feet. He drew a huge black pistol from the thigh holster, both hands wrapped tightly around the grip as he brought the muzzle into alignment with her belly. She tried twisting away but was too late. The gun bucked once, twice, and then a third time. All three rounds caught her in the gut, searing into her vital organs and forcing her to take staggering steps backward.
The beast went wild, battling her with an intensity she’d never imagined. Liz clung to control, maintaining the tiniest grip in the face of the assault. She had to buy them time to kill her, because the alternative was unthinkable. Trevor was her brother, and while she’d only known Blair a short time, he was the only one who understood what she was going through.
Hairy arms wrapped around her neck, yanking her from her feet. Blair tightened the crook of his arm around her throat, every muscle straining as he cut off her air supply. The beast sought to dislodge him, bucking wildly and nearly tossing the smaller werewolf away. Blair clung like a spider, refusing to let go.
“Kill me, Blair,” Liz roared, forcing her arms to drop to her sides. “Do it. Quickly. I won’t fight you.”
His grip tightened. Blackness ate at her vision.
50
Bonita
Ahiga studied the house below. A structure suitable for a large family, set by itself atop a squat hill. The place was a welcome relief from the mad clusters of buildings he’d passed to get here. People living on top of each other, filling every available space. Dwellings so tightly clustered had been unheard of in his time but seemed common in this new world of pollution and appallingly crowded cities. Yet the structure was larger than many he’d seen. Did it mark the home’s owner as a man of prestige or power? If so, this man could make a potent ally for the whelp’s fledgling pack. One they would sorely need in the days ahead.
The house was bathed in the light of the gibbous moon. A steady light burned in what Ahiga took to be the kitchen. He’d learned that term from one of the hosts he’d consumed. During his own time food had been both prepared and eaten in the same area. The idea that one needed separate rooms for each task was wholly alien, but then so were the size and opulence of these dwellings. The homes he’d known were both smaller and less ostentatious than those possessed by even the lowest of the unblooded he’d seen.
Several shapes loped through the darkness, ranging the rocky ground as they sought field mice or rabbits. Ahiga had called the coyotes to his service, and they recognized him as their alpha. They would serve as additional eyes and ears, and could even aid in combat if needed. He’d have preferred the ferocity of wolves, but one made due with the tools at hand.
Ahiga glanced at the moon, mood souring. It was the second cycle since he’d awoken, and he’d still neither revived the Mother nor convinced the whelp to do so. What would the Mother say when she finally woke? She wasn’t known for her temperament and had occasionally destroyed those who failed her. What would she do to someone who’d failed as monumentally as he?
It spurred him to action. Ahiga concentrated, using a surge of energy to make his body malleable. He shifted, but not into the powerful werewolf his kind had become known for. No, this required more finesse. Ahiga became a small brown wolf, one that an observer might mistake for a very large coyote. In many ways the form was more familiar to him than that of a man.
He trotted through the darkness, winding past scrubby bushes and boulders of various sizes. His path brought him closer and closer to the house, allowing him to hear the trio of heartbeats within. All beat slow and steady. They were confident. Or at least not immediately afraid, not like they had been mere hours ago when the female had gone berserk in an energy rage. Both Blair and their new human companion had been lucky to survive that encounter. An enraged female was nothing to trifle with.
Ahiga found a boulder not far from the window where the strange boxes they called computers were kept. The whelp’s newest ally sat in front of the box, holding a small black communication device to his ear. Trevor, that was the man’s name.
“Thanks, David. I appreciate you covering for me. Has anyone asked why I wasn’t there today?” his host asked. He paused for a moment as he listened to the response. “Hey, are you following the data we’ve been tracking on that sun spot?”
There was another pause. Ahiga could hear a voice on the other end of the speaking device, but couldn’t make out the words.
“I’ve been a little busy,” Trevor replied. The lack of context was maddening. Another pause.
“Yeah, well, they’re going to want to make time for this. If this thing keeps growing, it could release a CME bigger than the Carrington Event. That could do catastrophic damage to the world’s power grid,” Trevor said, tone somber. Ahiga was pleased that the unblooded seemed to understand the magnitude of what was to come. A part of it at least. “Have you notified the Director?”
“Are you kidding?�
�� The voice on the other end said, finally loud enough for Ahiga to make out words. “The Director doesn’t take calls from me. I’m just your sidekick. You want to notify the guy? You’re going to have to call him yourself.”
Ahiga left his perch, circling the house until he was near one of the other heartbeats. It was low and strong, familiar. There. Blair stood in the backyard, eyes closed, presumably so he could focus on his hearing. He was studying his surroundings but had not yet found Ahiga. The whelp was learning in spite of himself. Ahiga could not help but revel in the sight. It was a tiny ember of hope, but it was more than he’d had just moments ago.
He retreated back up the hillside, loping on four legs at a ground-eating pace he could maintain for hours. Soon it would be time to present himself, but first Blair and his pack must have the time to discover the truth. Only then could Ahiga hope to sway them to his cause.
51
Sorry
Blair inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he savored the nectar of the gods—coffee. He opened them, sipping at the scalding liquid as footsteps padded into the kitchen behind him. The first hint of sunrise touched the eastern horizon, almost banishing the horrors of the night before.
“So, uh, sorry for ripping out your throat,” Liz said, rubbing at sleep-tousled hair as she entered the kitchen from the hallway that led back to the bedrooms. She didn’t meet Blair’s gaze.
She wore a thick white bathrobe that fell to her ankles. Trevor had supplied one for Blair as well, and the warm fluffy fleece was heavenly. He took another sip of his coffee as he considered a response. The rational world had died back in Peru. How screwed up was it when getting your arms pulled out of your sockets was perhaps the third most notable thing that had happened to you on a given evening?
“Now, that’s not something you hear every day. I’m sorry I put a bag over your head and tackled you into a wall,” Blair replied, lowering his mug and shooting her a grin.
“I’m not sorry for shooting you in the face,” Trevor said, expression deadpan. Until Liz smiled, Blair didn’t understand he was joking. Trevor stood at the stove, frying up some scrambled eggs in a huge cast-iron skillet. “I mean, you did tear apart my garage, and it’s going to take the next few weeks to fix the holes you put in my ceiling.”
“Trevor, I don’t even know what to say…” Liz said, trailing off as she stared up at the wide furrow in the dining room ceiling. Bits of plaster still dusted the carpet, the trail leading into the kitchen where they stood.
“I’m totally telling Mom,” he said, but his lips quivered at the edge of a smile. He removed his glasses to clean them on the SDSU t-shirt he’d emerged with just after Blair had awoken. “You’re going to be grounded for weeks, and don’t think that ‘but I’m a werewolf’ thing is going to hold any weight with Mom.”
“I take it back. I’m not sorry for tearing your house apart,” Liz said, grabbing a blue mug from the cabinet and pouring some coffee. She took a moment to slug Trevor in the shoulder before adding sugar. “All joking aside, I have got to find a way to control this.”
“You will. Blair has, if what I saw last night is any indication,” Trevor said, turning the gas off and ladling the eggs into a large bowl. He had already set out orange juice and toast. “It’s just going to take some study. All three of us are scientists—well, two of us, anyway. I think your belief in woo woo disqualifies you, Liz. You’re one of those hippie liberal arts scientists.” Trevor grinned, setting the bowl of eggs on the table and sliding into one of the blocky chairs.
“Environmental conservation is a real degree,” Liz growled, though with no real heat. She took the chair to Trevor’s right, folding her legs underneath her as she ladled some eggs onto her plate. “Listen, I know this is a lot to take on. We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Liz, you’re family. Even if you weren’t, this is bigger than you,” Trevor said, setting a piece of toast on the edge of his plate. “These attacks are spreading fast. Faster than anything we’ve ever seen. They’re all over South and Central America, and there’ve been a few incidents in Los Angeles too. If we can’t get a handle on this, the human race is in real trouble. Do you remember when we were kids and we talked about the Aliens movie? What would happen if one of those things got loose down here? Liz, this is the same thing. It’s already out of control, and given what I saw last night, there’s no way even the military is going to be able to contain this.”
“I think it’s even worse that that,” Blair said. He set his fork down meticulously and then folded his hands in his lap. “We were stalked by a werewolf that came out of the pyramid. He claimed to be inside the whole time that thing was buried, and from what I’ve seen I believe it’s true. He claims some sort of ancient enemy is coming. That we’re all in terrible danger. He says werewolves were created to serve as champions. So even if we do manage to contain this, there’s something worse coming.”
“Something worse?” Trevor asked. He took a liberal swallow of his juice. Blair didn’t know the guy well, but considering the subject, he seemed far too calm.
“Yes,” Liz interjected. She rested her elbows on the table, gesturing at Trevor with her fork. “We don’t know what, exactly. This werewolf claimed that the HIV virus was the key. He says it’s not new. He says it existed thousands of years ago. Many thousands, apparently.”
“If HIV is so ancient, why did we just discover it a few decades ago? Wouldn’t it have been there all along?” Trevor asked. He dabbed at his goatee with a napkin, a bit of egg spoiling his serious demeanor.
“That’s something you might be qualified to answer, actually,” Blair said, wolfing down a mouthful of eggs. They were hot but incredibly good. “Ahiga—that’s the old man—claimed that the virus thrives on sunlight. He compared it to plants. He says that we’ve entered a new age and that the sun is changing. He also said that a more massive change is coming soon. That we’re running out of time.”
“Shit,” Trevor said, setting his fork down. The blood had drained from his face.
“What is it?” Liz asked, laying a concerned hand on his forearm. Blair went cold. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came next.
“Well, he’s definitely right about the sun changing. We’ve seen more activity in the last six months than in the previous two years. And the previous two years were more active than the previous ten. About six weeks ago a sunspot began developing. Normally they blow after a few days, maybe a week. This one is still growing,” Trevor explained, leaning back in his chair. “If this Ahiga is right, he could be talking about a coronal mass ejection far, far worse than the one back in 1989. If that’s the case, our power grid will be in shambles. It would be the perfect time for this ancient enemy to make an appearance. Or for an ever-growing army of werewolves to spread across the globe.”
“So if that’s the case, what can we do about it?” Blair asked, setting his fork down. He’d lost his appetite. “Is there a government agency we can warn or some emergency backup plan we can get them to activate?”
“Sort of. I can try contacting the agency I report to, warning them about what’s coming,” Trevor said, finishing his juice. He set down the empty glass, and he shuffled eggs across his plate. “The government definitely won’t listen. The group I’m a part of monitors CMEs, but we don’t have a plan in place for a massive event. Even if I did, we don’t have hard data to show them. Getting it is a serious problem just due to the nature of CMEs. They come in two parts. The first wave will hit earth about eight minutes after it leaves the sun. The second wave, the dangerous part, will arrive two to three days later. No one in the government will take a warning seriously until we see the first part. The best I can do is monitor for that.”
“The whole HIV thing will sound even more far-fetched,” Liz said, leaning back in her chair as she brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Those poor people have been persecuted for decades. Even if Ahiga is right, we have no proof. It will just sound like another unjustified rant from the re
ligious right.”
Everyone was silent as they considered the implications. They knew what was going to happen but couldn’t convince anyone of the truth.
“So what can we do?” Blair finally asked.
“Hmm,” Trevor said. His face lit up a moment later. “Technically, I work for the government, but most of our budget comes from a grant from a private corporation. The government won’t listen, but they might. They make power substations. If there’s even a chance that a lot of their assets will be damaged, they will definitely want to know about it.”
“Until then we can try to determine if this werewolf thing is viral. Maybe understanding it will help stop it,” Liz said, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “That’s something people will listen to. Every government in the western hemisphere must be panicked about the attacks. If we can offer help understanding the cause, at least some of them have to listen.”
“After breakfast we’ll get cleaned up and head into town to get you some clothes,” Trevor said, picking up his plate and bringing it to the sink. “In the meantime I’ll call my friend Erik. I’ll see if he can overnight one of those CellScopes his startup makes so we can do some blood work. He works with a network of doctors, so if we upload the data Erik can probably have it analyzed pretty quickly.”
“All of that’s helpful, but we still need to decide on a long-term plan,” Blair said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and dropping the crumpled ball onto his plate. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this, “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think we need to return to Peru. Every answer we need is in that pyramid. Maybe even a way to stop the werewolves and this ancient enemy.”