The Original's Return (Book 1)

by David Watkins

  “Sir?”

  “You like Stadler?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Do I need to relieve you of duty? Is your friendship clouding your professional judgement?”

  “No sir,” Knowles said. “I don’t think we should lose sight of the fact that he is a civilian with a family. What about his rights?”

  “He lost them when he killed at least two people,” Smith said. He stared unblinking at Knowles for a second. Knowles knew the conversation was over. “Continue, Daniel.”

  Round one to Starky, Knowles thought glumly.

  “Stadler appears to be able to turn into a Wolf at will. As we’ve just heard, and from descriptions from witnesses and the unit on the ground, it appears that he turns into a direwolf – a species of wolf that has been extinct for thousands of years.”

  Starky smiled at the group. “The fascinating part of all this is that Mr Stadler has learnt how to control this-” he grunted, looking at the ceiling as if searching for the right word- “ability in a very short space of time.”

  “We don’t know how much control he has,” Knowles pointed out.

  “Correct, Sergeant, but the point is that he has already gained some control. I suspect in time that he will gain full control over the ability and that he may even be able to part change.”

  “Is that a fact?” Knowles asked. He earned a scowl from Starky. Round two, undecided.

  “What do you mean part change?” Smith asked.

  “I think that he will be able to change specific parts of his body at a time. For example, change just his legs if he wants to be able to run faster.”

  Knowles conjured up a mental image of Jack on all fours running at them with drool hanging out of his smiling mouth. He shuddered, despite the absurdity of the image.

  “That is excellent news, Captain,” Smith said with a broad grin.

  “Yes sir,” Starky said. “If I am right, then this becomes a viable programmer for battlefield use.”

  Knowles felt his stomach constrict. He knew what was coming next.

  “We move to phase two, tomorrow,” Smith said, collecting his papers together and tapping them on the desk. “I want to see Stadler part changing by the end of the month.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Knowles banged his fist on the table.

  “Careful, Sergeant,” Smith said, an edge in his voice that none of them had heard before.

  “Sir, he’s a civilian. You cannot send him in to battle.”

  “Who said anything about that?” Starky said with a smirk. “I want him to part change here. Once he can do that, then we move to stage three: battlefield tests.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Jones whistled through his teeth. “Sir, this is crazy. You’re going to turn soldiers into those things?”

  “You were told not to speak,” Smith said.

  Jones shook his head anger clear in his eyes and the tight lines around his mouth. “I’ve seen these things up close and I want no part of it. It’s unnatural.”

  “That’s what Oppenheimer said,” Carruthers said. “I have become Death.”

  “Stop being so melodramatic,” Smith barked. “Another word from your men, Knowles, and you will all be ejected from this meeting. Is that understood?”

  “Yes sir.” Knowles glanced at his friends. Sort it out.

  Starky cleared his throat, “Sir, this is, of course, all hypothetical at the moment.”

  “Explain,” Smith said. His face said that he had enough.

  “We first became aware of Stadler because of an anomaly in his blood report.”

  “Yes.”

  Starky looked at his notes. “Stadler made a spectacular recovery from a fall. He claims to have fallen into a deep cave – one that your unit had to abseil into – and he didn’t have a mark on him.”

  “Cut to the chase, Captain.”

  “Yes sir. Mr Stadler’s blood was analysed as part of the Super-human program. It showed traces of a mutation in his DNA. We now know that the mutation was part wolf – we only discovered that retroactively. Knowing he could change into a wolf let us know where to look so to speak.”

  “I think we all know this Captain, what’s your point?”

  “The anomaly has gone.”

  The room fell silent.

  “I don’t understand Captain. The man had something wonky in his blood and now he hasn’t?”

  “Yes, sir.” Starky paused, drinking the last water from his cup.

  “So, what?” Smith said. “He’s healed? He can’t change anymore?”

  “No, sir. I believe that he has totally absorbed whatever it was. It is now part of him. It might manifest when he has changed, but at the moment he is totally human.”

  “I don’t understand,” Knowles said. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we can’t cure him, Sergeant.”

  6

  A heavy silence greeted his last comment. Starky looked at each man in turn.

  “Let me be clear here gentlemen: if we can replicate what happened to Mr Stadler - and there is no guarantee that we can – we almost certainly will not be able to reverse the process.”

  Knowles drummed his fingers on the table. “If you cannot reverse the process, then you can’t expect people to sign up for this, surely?”

  “Yes we can,” Starky said, with a glance at Smith.

  “Sergeant, the details of our volunteer programme is way beyond your pay grade,” Smith said.

  “Sir-”

  “No, Knowles, there is no discussion of this,” Smith said. “Subject closed.”

  Knowles ran his hand through his hair. “Yes sir.”

  “Continue, Captain.”

  Not Daniel anymore. Smith has heard things he doesn’t like. Knowles allowed himself a smirk.

  “We looked back through Stadler’s notes and have interviewed him at length. It appears that he lied to the hospital about his fall.” Starky was watching Knowles like a hawk, looking for any sign of discontent.

  “He claims that he landed on one of the bigger bones – we believe it was part of the rib cage – and it went straight through him. He said that it was ‘like a spear’.” Starky made the quotation marks with his hands.

  “That’s impossible,” Smith said.

  “We have already seen evidence of his rapid healing. It seems that this might have been the incident that started it.”

  “He’s a lucky man if it did,” Smith said.

  “Lucky?” Jones said. “I’d rather have died than be turned into some sort of monster.”

  Smith stood without a word. He yanked open the door to the corridor and yelled at the soldier on guard, “Eject these men and bar them from returning to this building.”

  “Yes sir.” The man looked worried, but entered the room with his rifle ready.

  Smith turned to look at Knowles, Carruthers and Jones. “You were warned. Sergeant, I will speak with you later. Leave now.”

  “What did I do?” Carruthers grumbled under his breath as they all stood. The young guard saluted smartly as they all walked out. He closed the door behind them.

  “Well done,” Knowles said as they entered sunlight in the courtyard.

  “His definition of lucky needs work,” Jones said.

  “I agree,” Carruthers said, “if Stadler had died in that fall, we’d still have Scarlet and Meyers with us.”

  “They are going to cut him open, see what makes him tick,” Knowles said, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

  “Who cares?” Jones said. “Let them kill him.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jonesey. He’s just a civvy.”

  Carruthers was ignoring them both. He was staring down the long drive to the gatehouse. “What’s that?”

  They turned to look at what he was pointing at. All the colour drained from Jones’ face and he felt like he was standing on stilts.

  “Shit,” Knowles said. “Run!”

  Chapter 28

  1

  Steve park
ed the car across the entrance to the base. Anton had a map on his lap which they were both stabbing. Steve got out of the car and slammed the door, hard. He had showered, cut his hair, shaved and was wearing a suit without a tie. The idea was to look like a stock broker on holiday. At my age, I’d have to be a boss. Anton was harder to disguise due to his bulk, but a suit had improved his appearance.

  “Fucking idiot!” he yelled. “You don’t have a fucking clue where we are do you?”

  Anton climbed out just as a guard ran over to them. The other one stayed in the booth, watching. Damn.

  “Gentlemen, can I help you?” the soldier was holding his gun across his body: ready, but not threatening, not yet. Behind him, a dark blue Ford Focus was coming slowly down the drive. The gate was down, and it was manual so the other guard would have to leave the gatehouse to raise it.

  Perfect. Steve turned to the guard. “My idiot of a partner is trying to get us to Fosten Green, but we seem to be lost. Can you help us? Where are we?”

  “Where’s your map?” the soldier asked.

  Anton reached into the car and pulled out the map. The soldier moved to look at it, spreading it on the bonnet of the car. Anton had placed it so that the soldier had his back to Steve. The soldier started pointing out landmarks and roads on the map. Anton nodded along with him.

  Steve looked over his shoulder and almost on cue the other guard left the gatehouse. The guard started to raise the barrier, just as the Focus came closer. Steve snarled and changed. The suit ripped apart, the sound of the cloth tearing alerting both guards to the fact that something was wrong. Too late. Much too late. The wolf covered the ground quickly, leaping onto the guard before he raised his rifle. Steve ripped his throat out as they landed and then bounded onto the car.

  Anton drove a fist into the first guard’s face, breaking both his nose and cheekbone in one go. Then he raked his fingernails across the man’s cheek, pulling the flesh away and leaving red muscle glistening in the sun. Anton licked the blood, smearing it round his mouth. He grinned at the soldier.

  “Tasty.”

  The man started to scream.

  The car careered into the post that supported the barrier and the bonnet crumpled. Steve leapt clear. A man tried to get out of the passenger side, but he forgot about the seatbelt which gave Steve all the time he needed. His jaws closed around the man’s arm.

  2

  Shanklin looked in horror as Henson’s arm turned into a bloody mess. The air bag exploded in his face, dazing and deafening him momentarily. The wolf – shit, that’s a wolf, a real live wolf in Kent - was still ripping the flesh off Henson’s arm, chunks disappearing into its wide mouth. Henson was emitting a sound somewhere between a scream and a moan.

  “Help me!”

  “Fuck you!” Shanklin yelled. He put the car into reverse and hit the accelerator as hard as he could. There was a horrible ripping sound, and something warm splashed across his face and chest. Henson fell back against him, seatbelt in tatters across his chest. His left arm was missing.

  Shanklin started to shout – pure animal rage. The world had become dim, like he was looking out of a long tunnel. Deep inside he felt remorse for Henson: they had worked together for a few years now and whilst he was obnoxious and arrogant, he didn’t deserve to be ripped to shreds by a wolf. Nobody deserves that. Henson had already lost a lot of blood. He was pale and trembling all over. His eyes were closed and Shanklin thought for a moment that the man was already dead. Can’t be dead and trembling, you idiot.

  Shanklin spun the wheel, but the car was going too fast. It tipped on its wheels and they flipped over. The roof crunched inwards and Henson was thrown clear. Shanklin reached for his seat belt clip, but it wouldn’t release. He tried to buck against it, but it was no use: he was stuck.

  With his whole world upside down, Shanklin tried to think about what to do next. He couldn’t focus on anything, his mind whirling with the impossibilities of what he was witnessing. The windscreen had smashed open, a spider web of cracks leading to the hole that Henson had created when he flew out of the car.

  Shanklin could see him now, lying on the grass, blood still pouring out of the hole in his shoulder where his arm was supposed to be. Beyond that, he could see the ruined block that the gate barrier had sat on. Padding towards him was a wolf. It was carrying something in its mouth.

  “Oh, God, no!” Shanklin started to scream.

  The wolf stopped by Henson and started to eat. Behind it, the other man was walking towards him. There had been two men when we drove up, he thought. Behind the strolling man, a combination of people and wolves were pouring through the gates. The wolves padded along besides the humans.

  That’s not right. Those wolves should be terrified.

  He tried not to think about the fact that there weren’t any wild wolves in Britain. He tried not to think about the mess that was being made of Henson’s body. He tried not to think about the arm the wolf had just dropped. He tried not to think about the plain fact that these were clearly his last moments alive.

  3

  Knowles didn’t actually move after he yelled “Run!” He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. The blue Ford Focus that the palaeontologists had been in was lying on its roof near to the gatehouse. Even at this distance, he could tell it was smashed beyond repair.

  Flooding across the field, pouring down the drive, came a mixture of wolves and humans. The humans were walking with purpose. At their head was an enormous man, who had his shirt open displaying an impressive set of abs. Next to him was a man that he recognised.

  It was the one who had spoken in the house in Huntleigh. One of them.

  A wolf in man’s clothing.

  They’ve found me. Knowles felt sick to his stomach. Jack had known and tried to warn them, even in his sleep. Had he smelt them? Heard them maybe? There was just so much about Jack that they didn’t understand.

  Carruthers and Jones were also staring. They had to move now, or they would be in serious trouble.

  “Jonesey, get the Major. Carruthers, get the toys. Get as many as you can.” Knowles looked at the bigger man. “NOW!”

  His shout woke them up. Both men sprinted in opposite directions. Jones ripped the door open after swiping his card. Carruthers was running hard to their barracks.

  The tide of bodies was coming closer – they were less than five hundred metres away. About thirty seconds at most.

  He started to run towards the block where Jack was.

  And Claire.

  4

  “Stop!” The guard who had just thrown him out looked none too pleased to see him return so soon. He lowered his gun to his waist, clearly pointing it at Jones without really wanting to.

  “We’re in the shit, mate,” Jonesey said. “Wolves. Tons of them.”

  The soldier turned white.

  “Keep your gun on that door. Shoot anyone who comes through it who isn’t wearing green.”

  “Yes sir.” The soldier’s voice was shaky, like a teenager going through puberty. Jones didn’t bother to correct him on the rank. Probably a good idea to let him think someone is in charge.

  He burst into the meeting room. Smith and Starky looked up from the documents they were studying.

  “Jones!” Smith got as far as saying.

  “Sir. Wolves. Hundreds of them,” Jones said, without a salute. “We’re in trouble.”

  Starky stood, knocking the manila folder onto the floor. Jones caught a glimpse of Katie Stadler’s face on a sheet of paper then it hit the ground.

  “Are you armed?” Smith barked.

  “No, sir,” Jones said. “Google, uh, Carruthers is getting some weapons now, but we have to move.”

  “We are safe in here,” Starky said. “There is only one door in and out. Private Wallace could hold them off until help arrives.”

  “Agreed.” Smith said. “Has someone raised an alarm?”

  “Not yet.” Jones said. “I think Sergeant Knowles has gone to do that.”<
br />
  “What about Stadler?” Smith asked.

  “Don’t know, sir.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Starky delved into his bag and pulled out a Sig. “Fifteen rounds,” he said with a grim smile.

  You might want to keep four of those. Jones didn’t vocalise that last thought.

  5

  Carruthers opened his foot locker and pulled out his Browning and a 12 bore shotgun. At the far end of the barracks lay the gun cabinet. He smashed the lock with the shotgun and the door swung open. He picked up two rifles, known to the team as SA80’s even though they were officially GPMG 7.62mm rifles, and slung them over his back. He grunted under the weight and ran back to the door.

  He stepped into the courtyard, and could see that the first of the wolves were less than 100 metres away. He dropped the two SA80s, raised the machine gun and fired a burst into the oncoming wolves.

  Two at the front yelped, falling back in a shower of red. The next three stopped and scattered. Those following slowed right down. He fired again, taking a further two out. Then he scooped up the two rifles and ran straight for the building that Jones had gone into.

  He yelled as he jumped at the door. It was shut tight and he bounced off it. “Open up!” he screamed. Behind him, he heard the wolves approaching. He could almost feel their breath on his neck. Dropping all the guns except the shotgun, he turned quickly. A wolf jumped at him as he spun. He fired once, hitting it full in the chest. Blood splashed onto him as the wolf landed in a bloody heap next to him. He banged on the door again with his foot.

  “It’s Carruthers! Open the door!”

  Humans were now arriving at the edge of the courtyard. The biggest one of all was pointing at him, and the other humans all laughed. Three seemed to shrug off their skin, wolves bursting out of them. That’s got to hurt. They joined the rest of the wolves, forming a large pack. At a conservative guess there were twenty wolves approaching him.

  He pumped the action on the shotgun and raised it to his shoulder. “Come on then!” he screamed and started shooting into the crowd of oncoming wolves. His pulse was sky high, his heart hammering in his chest. Even in Afghanistan, he had not felt this afraid. There, you knew what you were dealing with. He fired, pumped, fired again, and each time another wolf went down. No need to aim, the wolves were so tightly packed that he couldn’t miss.