A Werewolf's Saga Books 1, 2, & 3 (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets)

by Michael Lampman

  He listened, and as he did so, his mind flashed to a haze within itself. With it, he could see himself deep into the shadows of the trees. He could see the moonlight all around him, surrounding him, filling the world with a light blue halo of life. It had to be dark. It had to be night. He could see a bright, brighter than the sun, orange colored halo off in the shadows of the trees. He could see himself move towards it, moving around the trees with no effort at all, walking towards it with a fear of caution in his steps. He could feel his nervousness, deep within his soul, for seeing the light. He could feel that he was afraid of it. He could feel that he felt scared of the one that casted the hue, but he also still felt curious about it. He still felt intrigued. Off in the distance, he could hear a young boy calling out throughout the forest, calling for help. The boy’s voice sounded afraid. He saw himself move towards the sound, and with it, he moved to the child, keeping low. He kept balanced. He stopped.

  She could see the fog hanging over his face. She knew why. “Jimmy?”

  He blinked, and focused his eyes back onto hers. “It was me, wasn’t it?” He blinked again. The image felt so strong in his mind, that he could have sworn that he was there now. That he was standing in the forest, seeing the light. “I was the one that helped the boy. I was the one that helped this Kenny.” He swallowed a hollow throat. What he said fit the image in his memory. It also fit what he felt. It made sense in the only way that a memory of someone else’s life ever could.

  “Yes.” She nodded. She felt instantly intrigued with watching him recall the memory. She had always wished that she were old enough to see such things. How intriguing it must be to recall another wolf’s life?

  He brought his hands together in front of his face and lifted his elbows off his knees. “Go on.” He bowed his eyes back to the floor.

  She did the same. “That’s why he helps us. He helps us because of what Kalima did for him.”

  He nodded.

  She likewise folded her hands in front of her. “Kenny helped us out with discovering what we are. He’s helped us all at one time or another. Collins would take us there and meet with him after the bite—after the change. He has such a special gift.”

  He brought his eyes up from the floor and back up to hers.

  “What’s his gift? How can he help me?”

  “He’s blind. He’s an old Native American that has the ability to see us in ways that no one else can, other than us. He believes that he has found a way to connect us with what we are. He knows the wolf. He feels it. He understands it in so many ways. He knows so much more about us, than we will ever know about ourselves.”

  He nodded and signed again. “He knows Kalima. He knows him. He can help me reach him, can’t he?”

  She nodded, unfolding her hands until both palms touched the tops of her knees. “He will help you understand who you are, Jimmy. He will help you be what you already know you are.”

  Again, he nodded. Again, he understood what she tried to tell him. In fact, he knew he has already done this once before. He thought back, trying to force his thoughts back on this Kenny, but felt nothing after stopping in the memory. He tried to recall him with every detail, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t see him. The memory of moving through the trees was the only one there, with everything else feeling blank. Everything else seemed to be missing. His memory wasn’t there, but he didn’t need to see it to feel that he was right about doing it before. He just accepted it, and nodded with the thoughts.

  She nodded, and watched as his face turned to thought. She knew that he needed the time to think, and knowing that, she looked up from him and to the rest of the room. A long dresser lay across from her at the wall facing the foot of their beds, and from the dresser, she looked back behind her to the only other door in the room. That door had to lead to the bathroom, and with that, she knew where to find the shower. The idea of a shower brought her thoughts to calm all at once. “I think I’m going to leave you to think.” She crawled off the bed and stood up on the other side of it from him. “I’m going to take a shower.” She turned back around and faced him. She smiled.

  He looked up as she turned. He nodded to her, before bowing his head back down to the floor. She was right. He had to think. He had to recall. He had to prepare himself for meeting Kenny again. He could think of nothing else to do but that.

  She nodded to him one final time, turned, and headed to the bathroom without saying anything else. She closed the door behind her and began to get undressed.

  He didn’t see her leave. Instead, he just sat there and pulled his mind onto the matter at hand. He thought about Kenny. He thought about the memory that he had about walking through the trees. He thought about everything she told him, until she came back again and they both lied down and waited for the dusk to come again.

  2

  Brandon climbed out of bed feeling as he always did when it was time to get up, and get ready for work. He hated the feeling of still feeling asleep. He hated having to move. He hated having to do what the bill collectors made him do every day of his life. In all his plain old English, it fucking sucked. Working nights was always the best way to go for him, but at times like this, it made everything feel worse. Sometimes, he had trouble sleeping at all. Sometimes, he just tossed and turned, and found himself staring at the ceiling of his room, but staring at nothing. Sleeping during the day felt difficult some times, especially during the summer when people were out having fun during the day when the weather was nice and they had things to do. That made it difficult for him. He wanted to do those things too. He wanted to have fun with them, but when he had to work, he knew that he couldn’t do it. Now that summer was back again, it made his days harder to sleep. It made him feel restless. It made him angry. It made him like he now felt. Again, in his own plain old English, it fucking sucked.

  Pulling his feet to the floor, he slumped forwards, and if it wasn’t for his elbows hitting the tops of his knees, he would have probably spilled head first to the floor—hard. Realizing that he didn’t do it, he sighed. He chuckled some too. He’s done it more often than not.

  Feeling wobbly, he stood up from bed, and walked out into the living room, out from his bedroom, and there he stopped. His apartments always seemed small and they always looked dark. Blankets lined every window, and kept out the sun, making everything look musty and dank. If it wasn’t for his many digital clocks scattered about everywhere, illuminating the living room with an all too eerie red glow, he would have trouble in knowing what time of day it really was. With it all, his place looked clouded. It felt peaceful. It felt like him.

  Naked, he moved out through the living to the next door on his right and entered the bathroom, stumbled into the bathtub and turned on the faucet. He took a quick, but very hot shower. He thought of nothing as he did it. He never did.

  After the shower, and covered with dampness and even some sweat, he walked back out into his living room and made his way to the front of his apartment, to the small kitchen near the front door. He walked straight to the counter at the far wall, started a pot of coffee, and headed to a table at the back of the kitchen. He sat down in one of the two old metal chairs at opposite ends of the round table and took a heavy seat. Sitting there, he hoped to dry off before the coffee finished brewing. He usually did. He did the same thing every night.

  He relaxed, rested his head onto the top of table, and tried to wake up. In fact, he almost went back to sleep. He closed his eyes, but a soft knocking came from the direction of his front door, and it made him wake up instantly. Hearing the sound, he opened his eyes and turned towards the door just to his left. He faced it, and tried to focus on what he heard.

  The knocking came again. It sounded soft, yet determined.

  He hated the sound. He hated having visitors. He had very few friends, so no one ever came to see him. With Jimmy down in New York, and listening to the knock come again, he knew that it had to be a stranger, and that wasn’t good. Knowing that, it made him feel nervous.
It meant that it was probably another person wanting money. If he was lucky, it was probably just someone knocking on the wrong door, but that couldn’t be the case either. He was never that lucky.

  “Just a minute.” He stood up and was about to head to the door, but realized that he was still naked, so he turned and went back to the bedroom instead. He grabbed an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed, and pulled on the shorts. He left the bedroom and slipped the shirt on over his head as he reached the front door. He felt heavy and out of sorts. He wasn’t awake yet, and that scared him some. He was never that good with people, he knew that, but half-awake, it made him feel worse.

  The soft knocking came again, just as he reached for the knob. He turned it and opened the door to the blackness of night.

  “Mister Taylor?” A young looking man with deep blonde hair and an even paler looking face stood on his front steps with a heavy smile on his face. A second man stood just behind him on the sidewalk leading out to the back lot of his building. Behind the second man, he could also see what looked like a woman standing by a long black colored car just under one of the lights hanging over the lot. All of them looked like they wore black, or what he thought looked like dark colored suits.

  Seeing all of them, he breathed, heavy and deep. “Can I help you?” They look like cops. He could tell it immediately. He could tell them apart better than most others ever could. Seeing them, and thinking what he was, he hated what he saw. They weren’t bill collectors. They weren’t lost. They looked like trouble, sure and true. Feeling what he was, he woke up instantly. His heart skipped a beat just for good measure. If they were cops, he knew why they came to see him. They know what happened down state. It made sense. Why else would the police come to see me? The deaths of so many people, or whatever they were, wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. It was just the matter of time before they found me. He knew they would. They’re here to ask me about everything I know. Knowing that, he had to refocus his thoughts. He had to protect his best friend. He had to protect Jimmy, and the secret about what he was. He had to help him. He kept that in mind, as he stood there and stared at them with alert and wide eyes.

  “Mister Brandon Taylor?” The man with the blonde hair kept his smile strong.

  Staring at him, even with the only light outside coming from the lot, and hence behind him, he could see that his face looked perfect. His eyes looked as black as night. He looked almost like a doll. He looked like a mannequin. He looked almost not real, or even alive.

  “Yes.” Brandon swallowed some. He hated it when people in cop suits would say his full name, hell, anyone saying such things really. It told him one thing. Trouble’s here. “Can I help you fellas with something?” Thinking about everything, he knew that he had to stay to the story that Rachel told him about following. Since coming back from seeing Jimmy in New York, she knew that someday people were going to come looking for him. It was only the matter of when they would, and now, it seemed to be the time. He had to keep the secret, he didn’t fear that he would be able to—he was good at telling a lie or two, but right now, staring at this man, he felt forced to take a deep breath. After he did it, he felt somewhat better. He was better at doing this than most people ever were, and instantly he realized that he could pull it off. He could do it. He had to stay strong. He had to keep his wits. He had to remember to breathe right.

  “Yes, we hope you can, Mister Taylor.” The man looked deeply into his eyes.

  Eyes that made Brandon shudder some. “And you are?” He felt like a game was coming. He could feel it. He could see it in this man’s black eyes. He could sense that a cat and mouse type of game was on its way, as to who would get the other to talk and give away the secret first. He knew he had to win this game. More importantly, Jimmy’s life depended on it. Knowing that, he looked from his eyes and back to the other man behind him, and looked at him closely. He had to study him. He had to gauge them. Seeing him, he noticed that the man had deep black hair that looked so neatly trimmed that it made it look expensive. He also had paleness to his face that made him look like he was just a head sitting up against a blackened world beneath him.

  “I’m sorry.” The man with the blonde hair smiled. His white teeth sparkled with the little light around his face, with his very pink gums clearly making them stand out and shine as bright as the sun. “My name is Michael, and this is my associate Joshua, and over there by our vehicle is Melinda.” He didn’t point; he just subtly nodded behind him as he stated everything he said.

  Brandon looked from his pale face to the others in turn. They nodded to him with the calling of their respective names.

  “We were hoping that you could help us with your friend, Jimmy Walls.” His smile vanished all too fast.

  The look alone made his heart skip a beat again. His lungs exhaled with one giant gasp of air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swallowed a now very dry mouth. His mind began to race, keeping pace with his heart. It’s time to put my gift of lying to work. He forced a sly grin. He meant it more for his own train of thought than for them to see it.

  The man, Michael, smiled. “May we come inside to talk with you about this?” The smile came again and it looked larger than it looked before. If it weren’t for the man’s pink gums, his teeth would have matched the color of his face almost perfectly.

  Again, Brandon’s heart skipped a beat, or maybe it was two. In fact, it felt like it started to dance. He couldn’t think of much, but what did come to him was simply to end this right then and there. “I think we’re done here.” He started to close the door, meaning to shut it fast as he could and lock it just as fast, but both of which became impossible when a hand came up so fast to the front of the door that it kept him from being able to do it as planned. Instead, the door just made a popping sound almost like a good-sized rock was tossed into it by a major league pitcher. With it, the door stayed, and in fact, it even pushed in further than what it already was.

  Michael pushed it in, past Brandon and stepped inside his house.

  Brandon felt pushed back, with his bare feet sliding along the floor, until he came into contact with the wall just to the right of the kitchen‘s counter top.

  “May we enter your home?” Michael stepped into the living room, with Joshua right behind him, and once inside, they stepped to the center of the room. They both took turns to look around where they now found themselves, and when they finished with the quick tour, they both turned back to Brandon.

  Brandon pushed his own front door away from him and closed it. “You have no right coming in like this.” He felt angry. He felt winded from the door. He felt scared with how easily the two men were able to intrude inside his apartment.

  “Now that we’re alone, maybe you can start with what you know about your friend.” Michael passed him another smile, a smile that then vanished all too quickly.

  “I told you that I know nothing about him.” Brandon felt more exposed than ever. He now knew that he’d already lost the game. He became the mouse, and they were obviously the cats, so fast that he couldn’t believe how fast it happened. With it, he felt stunned. He felt completely lost and alone. He had no idea what to do next.

  “Why do I not believe you?” Michael stepped from the center of the room, from the old looking sofa that sat quietly there, and came right up in front of him. He reached out and took Brandon by the bottom of his chin.

  The touch felt so cold and so strong, that both sent a shiver down his spine.

  “You would feel so much better by helping us.” The smile came strongly again.

  Now standing this close to him, he could smell what he could only describe as the scent of decay on his breath. It smelled like rotted meat. It smelled like death. He now knew that these people weren’t cops, and realizing that, he figured that they had to be something else, and that something felt bad. The feeling screamed inside his mind, almost like someone just used a bullhorn inside his skull.

&nbs
p; “You would feel better helping him.”

  Brandon gasped. He had to. The smells coming to his face started to make him feel like gagging. It took everything he had, just to get the thought of wanting to, from keeping him from doing it. “I told you that I don’t know anything about him.”

  Michael dropped his hand. “We want to help him too. Just as you do. We want you to help us help him.” He left Brandon and returned to the side of the sofa. He looked down at it and puffed some under his breath.

  Brandon watched him, and felt his body freeze in place. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He almost couldn’t breathe. “You want to help him?” he asked with the words coming out all on their own. After he asked it, he couldn’t believe that he even said it. It didn’t sound like him. It didn’t sound like his voice.

  “Yes we do. But to do that, we have to find him first.” Michael turned from Joshua and looked back to Brandon. “We know what he is.” He brought both of his hands in front of him and held them together down by his waist. He looked almost like a waiter waiting to take an order.

  Brandon blinked. His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. They know. They know about Jimmy being a werewolf. It sounded fantastic. It sounded obvious. “Know what?”

  Michael smiled. “You know what I mean. Wolves are never subtle creatures. One could never miss them when they know what they are.”

  To his left, Joshua smiled too.

  Brandon swallowed again. His heart felt like it just dropped into his stomach. His mind exploded into a rambling set of thoughts. “You’re wolves too, aren’t you?” That makes sense. It’s the only thing about them that does.

  With that, Michael laughed, hearty and full of life. “Not exactly.”

  Behind him, Joshua also chuckled some.

  Brandon heard both of them and that brought his eyes up, firm and strong. “What are you then?” His face instantly lost all heat. It felt like it went completely pale.