by JK Cooper
Lead on, cretin. Lead on.
Southeby would lead them to discover more of the pack in Lansborough, if Hill and his team were patient. And cautious. So far, Southeby’s nightly strolls had not proved fruitful, appearing no more than a man clearing his head and getting some fresh air. But his route had varied tonight. This had to be it. Hill could feel it.
A handful of teenagers came bursting out of a movie theater, the only one in town. They threw popcorn at each other, and cars that passed by. Hill lost sight of Southeby as the kids blocked his view.
He cursed.
Hill touched a comm unit in his ear. “We can’t lose him.”
His team picked up their pace, converging on Southeby’s last position, pushing through the teenagers.
“Hey, watch it, man!” one of the boys said, obviously showing off for a girl. Some of the teens looked more like college age, now that Hill saw them up close. Hill remembered those carefree days before he had learned the truth about their world and the parasites that had infected it.
His team met at the south corner of the movie theater and looked around. Hill knew their cover would have been blown if someone had been paying attention.
“Down there,” one of the team members, Abernathy, said.
Hill pivoted and saw the alley. Yes, there was no other explanation for where Southeby had disappeared to. Subconsciously, Hill felt for the concealed Glock at his hip. His magazine carried nineteen silver rounds, plus one in the chamber.
“This is a trap,” Abernathy said.
It did feel that way. But they had exercised extreme caution. Hill didn’t believe they could have been discovered, at least not prior to converging—not early enough for Southeby to make plans. The team took a few cautious steps down the alley, but Hill stopped.
Silence. The teenagers’ laughs and ruckus had ceased. A chill went up the back of Hill’s neck. Facing down the alley, Abernathy looked sidelong at Hill. He slowly lifted his shirt, drew the pistol from his inner-waistband holster and turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Hill’s breath froze in his lungs. Five werewolves stood at the mouth of the alley. The moviegoers. Their heads hunched low between their shoulders.
Fool! Hill chided himself.
“Sir,” Abernathy said.
Hill gazed back down the alley. At the other end, perhaps fifty feet away, three larger wolves faced them. In the middle of the three stood the largest wolf Hill had ever seen. Black with amber eyes that pierced the alley’s darkness, even from this distance. The Alpha. It had to be.
“Elias,” Hill whispered. If he could take down Elias Copeland . . . Hill steeled himself.
The Alpha stepped forward. Hill raised his silenced sidearm and cursed himself for letting his team get trapped so easily.
“Johns, Lyons, Russo, take the rear. Abernathy, Murray, on me.”
Hill took aim and fired, the suppressed gunfire sounding no louder than a nail gun. The wolves charged. Hill continued to fire but frustratingly could not find his targets in the darkness. The eyes presented the best target, but they darted toward him faster than he could reacquire their position after each recoil. Like demonic duos of fireflies. Behind him, he heard a scream. Then more and the sound of things being torn. Clothing. Skin.
The Alpha sprang onto the stuccoed outside wall of the movie theater and ran several strides sideways. Defying gravity. The slide of Hill’s gun locked back, and he reached for his spare mag, but never got a chance to load it. The Alpha landed on him with such force that Hill might have sworn that a train hit him. His glasses sailed from his head, and he felt his collar bones and several ribs break. Just before the Alpha ripped his body apart, he thought of his martyr’s award waiting for him on the other side.
Shelby entered the locker room the next morning, hoping to avoid Chelsea and her two disciples. Amazed at the drama that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours and how she somehow stood in the middle of it, Shelby thought it best to avoid deepening any conflict. She didn’t want the most popular girl in school as her nemesis, but Sadie had pretty much assured that by her tweet last night. Some friend. Shelby sighed. When she checked this morning, there were over eighty retweets and two hundred favorites. How many “besties” did Sadie have in this “small” town? Chelsea would no doubt be on the warpath.
War paint and all, I’m sure.
Luckily, no one else was in the locker room. Was she late? She stripped down to her leo quickly and stored her clothes in a locker. Just as she turned away, her phone chimed from her shorts’ pocket inside her locker and she couldn’t resist. She retrieved her phone and saw a text from Kale.
Hey. Miss me?
That stupid girly-grin that always came out when she tried to hide her feelings, spread across her face. She double-checked to make sure she was really alone in the locker room.
U wish, she replied. Where r u?
Football practice. My phone is blowing up, he texted. Did you tell someone we’re going to homecoming?
Just Sadie.
Ugh. Twitter?
Yeah, Shelby texted. U r pretty popular apparently.
Well, if the texts I’ve gotten from Chelsea are any warning, be careful today.
What’s she saying?
Typical stuff. I hate you, traitor, spawn of Satan. You know.
Um, wow?
Yeah, just be careful. She can be . . . creative. Full on banshee-mode.
Shelby replied, Sounds great. Oh, hey, I meant to ask u . . . what r u doing tonight?
Whatever you are.
Shelby’s stupid girly-grin widened. How did she like him this much after one dinner together? After just touching his hand? He had almost tried to kill Grant . . . or was it the other way around? Sadie’s words from last night about being bonded came back to her. She still didn’t know if she trusted that mystical romance nonsense, but maybe werewolves did have different rules on this stuff.
Sean kinda invited me to this thing. But Sadie said I could just go with u.
Ya, Sean’s cool. I know about it. Wasn’t sure you wanted to go.
Might b fun.
If you’re there it will be.
Do u practice this stuff? Like the perfect things to say and when? R u part of a secret guys’ club where u rehearse?
I’ll pick you up tonight.
U know where I live?
Ya.
Stalker much?
Concerned citizen.
Uh-huh. C u 2nite.
Yup. Bye. Oh, wait, Dad wants to introduce you to the pack soon. Cool?
Shelby hesitated. Was it okay? She’d have to meet them eventually, right? Still, the thought made her a little nervous.
She responded, Ya, probs.
Not a big deal. Trust me. See ya.
K.
Somewhat timidly, Shelby left the locker room and entered the gym. Sadie practiced her floor routine and several other girls waited for their turn. Coach Anders nodded to Shelby.
“Brooks, you need to be on time,” he said, looking down at his clipboard. “Do you need a watch?”
“Sorry, coach, I got held up.”
“No excuses, Brooks. This team starts on time or you don’t start at all. Extra body toning for you today. Fifty push-ups, fifty mountain climbers, five minutes of jump rope. All with a smile or you’ll do it again until I’m convinced you’re enjoying yourself.”
“What, no first warning and a pass?” Shelby asked.
“Oh, this is your warning,” Coach Anders said. “Now get to it.”
Shelby looked around, surprised she didn’t see Chelsea, Amanda, or Trish. That should have been comforting, but wasn’t.
She got down and started to knock out the push-ups.
“With a smile, Brooks!” Coach Anders called out. Shelby could hear the forced smile in his tone.
“Seriously?”
“Chandler, am I serious?”
Sadie paused her floor routine. “Absolutely, coach!” She wore a wide smile that was so fake it made Shelby laugh.
“That’s the spirit, Brooks!” Anders said.
“You’re coming tonight, right?” Sadie asked.
They walked out of the locker room, exiting to the same area where Shelby had met Sean yesterday.
“Yeah, Kale said he’d go,” Shelby answered.
“More than just going to Homecoming, I see.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Football players in their practice jerseys rushed past Shelby and Sadie, and Shelby immediately stiffened amid a feeling of falling.
“What?” Sadie asked. “You went pale. You sick?”
“No, I’m fine. Just don’t like being around guys sometimes.”
“Oookayyy,” Sadie said. “That makes no sense. Do tell.”
“I know. Some other time.”
Then Shelby felt Kale near, and the anxiety turned to that feeling of home and warmth she’d experienced yesterday. She saw him, jogging off to the boys’ locker room, his head down. Maybe he wanted to play it cool and not draw attention. But before he entered the locker room, he glanced at her, flashing her a big smile. Shelby waved shyly. Several of his teammates pushed him inside, teasing him as they shoved him.
“Do you see yourself?” Sadie asked. “It’s cussing gross.”
“I thought you liked the idea of Kale and me.”
“Well, yeah, since it undermines the whorey trinity.”
“Where were they today?”
“Probably having a cry session together over Kale dumping her for you.”
“They weren’t going out, just to Homecoming, right?” Shelby wanted to make sure she had the story straight.
“If that,” Sadie said. “But Chelsea probably didn’t see it that way.”
Shelby pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Kale said she’s in ‘banshee-mode’, whatever that means.”
“Yeah, that can be interesting,” Sadie said.
“Should I be wearing a gun?”
“Maybe a bazooka. So, your dad . . . he was military?”
“Yup. Army Rangers. Delta Force. Super-secret stuff.”
“He ever tell you about it?”
Shelby shrugged. “Not too much. He taught me how to shoot, though.”
“Seriously? That’s awesome! Can he teach me?”
“Um, maybe.”
“Will he have to wrap his arms around me and put his hands over mine to show me proper technique?”
“How demented are you?”
“No one knows,” Sadie said airily as she cocked her head to the side, as if in thought. “Okay, so tonight, here at eight. It’ll be fun.”
“What do you guys do?”
“It’s just hanging out, making fun of each other, you know. Just a bunch of donkeys talking cow dung. Nothing serious.”
“Okay. Kale is going to pick me up.”
“What a gentleman.”
“Shut up.”
“Bonded,” Sadie said, looking off casually. “I’m telling ya.”
“Whatever. See you tonight.”
Kale’s Raptor pulled up in front of Shelby’s house just after eight. Shelby waited on the porch steps with her father. The driver door opened, and Kale stepped out of the truck, the rays of sunset glinting off his skin in a way that made Shelby’s heart race. She felt a flush on her neck.
“Good evening, Mr. Brooks,” he said.
Grant rose to meet Kale and accepted his outstretched hand. “Kale.”
“Thanks for letting me take Shelby out tonight.”
“You’ll be with a group?” Grant asked.
“Dad!” Shelby said. “Don’t interrogate him. I invited him.”
“Yes, sir. With a group,” Kale said, his eyes staying locked on Grant.
“Make sure it stays that way.”
Shelby turned bright red. Did he have to be super-protective in front of Kale?
“Come on,” Shelby said, pulling Kale away, but Kale stood still.
“My father says your first day with the security team was good. Some of the other guys were impressed with you. Anyway, thought you might like to know.”
Grant nodded. “That’s generous of Mr. Copeland to say. Now, Kale, understand, I don’t work for you. I don’t take to flattery. This is my daughter, and while she is in your care, I expect you to provide for her safety from everyone and anything.”
From his tone, Shelby knew he meant “including you, Kale,” but didn’t need to say it.
“Dad, it’s just a bunch of kids hanging out,” Shelby said, acting incensed even though she secretly appreciated her dad’s concern.
“Sir, I know it was tense between us last night,” Kale said. “That was my fault, and I apologize. I will certainly place your daughter’s safety above everything, I assure you.”
Grant smiled. “See? I knew we could have an understanding.” He gripped Kale’s shoulder, still smiling, and said, “Have fun, you two. And Kale, not later than 10:30.”
Shelby saw Kale wince ever so slightly under her dad’s grip.
“Your dad . . . he’s—”
“Crazy?” Shelby asked. Kale’s truck rode more comfortably than she would have guessed for a massive gas guzzler as they cruised down the road toward the high school.
“Intense. And . . . well, strong.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “There aren’t too many humans that can make one of us feel pain by a simple grip.”
“Sorry. He’s really protective.”
“It’s okay. If I had a daughter that went through what you did—”
“Music?” Shelby said, turning the radio on.
Taylor Swift’s “Trouble” came blaring through the speakers.
Shelby laughed. “What other stations are there?”
“It’s from my phone. Bluetooth.”
Shelby felt her upper lip sneer, just a bit. “This is on your phone?”
“What? You don’t like Taylor?”
“I guess,” Shelby said with a shrug. “This song just makes me think of screaming goats.”
“Screaming goats?”
“Yeah, haven’t you seen that YouTube video? Where the goats cut in during the chorus?”
Kale shook his head. “Guess not.”
“Oh, you haven’t lived, Kale Copeland. We’ll have to fix that. Pull over, I’ll drive.”
Kale gave her a look.
“This is important, Kale.”
He blew out a breath. “Yes, ma’am.”
A few minutes later, when they pulled up to the school, Kale was still laughing in the passenger seat, watching the YouTube clip over and over on his phone.
“Bubba!” he called out. “Hey, come check this out!”
Bubba came to the passenger side and looked utterly bewildered. He flashed a glance at Shelby then back to Kale, who leaned out the passenger window.
“Hey man,” Bubba said, “ain’t you in the wrong seat?”
“Have you seen this video?” Kale asked.
He pressed replay on the YouTube app.
“Yeah, man, everyone seen that,” Bubba said.
“Wait, here’s the best part.”
The goat screamed perfectly on cue. Kale laughed again, as if it was still his first time.
“The only funny thing I’m seein’ is some cute girl driving your ride, homie.”
“Oh, right,” he said. “Shelby, this is Bubba. Offensive line. Protects me on the field. Sometimes.”
“Man, you trippin’. Nobody passes me. Nice to meet you, Shelby. You a minx or something?”
“Um, I . . .” she started, but Bubba went on.
“Because, my boy here ain’t never let anyone drive his ride. Not even me.” Bubba gave Kale a betrayed look.
“Wait! Wait!” Kale said. “Here it comes again.”
The goats screamed. Kale laughed.
“Pshhh whatever, man,” Bubba said. “It was funny two years ago.”
Sean came up to the driver side. “Hey, Shelby! Glad you came.” He op
ened her door for her, and Kale snapped out of YouTubeopia.
“Sorry, Shelby, I should’ve got that for you.”
“I won’t tell my dad.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll reserve judgment.”
“All right,” Sean said, waving the others over. There were maybe a dozen altogether. “I think whoever is coming is here. Let’s head out.”
“Where are we going?” Shelby asked.
“Just outside of town,” Sean said. “Bonfire in the desert. You game?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Everyone piled into a few cars. Kale switched seats with Shelby, and Bubba slid in the back. A few others jumped in the bed of the truck. Just as they pulled out, Sadie opened the door and hopped in the back with Bubba.
“You want to maybe move over, Bubba Tubba?” she said.
“Darlin’, I’m all the way over,” Bubba said. “We just gonna hafta get all close like.”
“In your condemned dreams,” Sadie snapped.
“How’d you know?” Bubba asked. “Got ourselves a minx in the front seat and Morpheus next to me. How we gonna ever survive, Kale?”
“Morpheus?” Kale asked. “Like, from The Matrix?”
“Nah, homie, as in the god of dreams. Don’t you pay no attention in class?”
Sadie slugged Bubba in the leg, the sound like a tennis racket thwacking a pillow. “There’s, like, a copulating foot on your other side, Bubba! Move over!”
“Nah, sweet-thang, the view is better from here. I get car sick if I can’t look out the windshield. Know what I’m sayin’?”
Kale started coughing something that sounded a lot like “bull crap.”
Sadie looked at Bubba with a glare that Shelby swore was the most predatory expression she’d ever seen, and she’d seen werewolves attack.
“Someday, I just might rip you apart,” Sadie whispered.
“Mmm. What a sweet day that will be,” Bubba answered with a playful longing in his voice.
Wait, did Bubba know? Was he a werewolf? Was this whole town infected with the occult? Sadie, still standing with the door open, must have seen the question in her eyes because she looked at Shelby and muttered, “Oh, please.”
“We all in?” Kale asked.