While out walking, Hallard spied a dear, a faun, wondering out among the trees and grass. "What are you doing about at night?" he said.
The dear looked at him and startled. It escaped between some bushes.
The idea of fresh meat suddenly filled his mind completely. Although it would extinguish his primal lust, a hunt was a welcome distraction. He followed the young deer for some time, but the woods were not on his side that night. For the first time in many years, he just couldn't move in for the kill without alerting his pray.
Finally, his frustration growing, he gave up trying to take it unaware. He stood up, ran, and lunged at the deer. Of course he missed, stumbling as he dove at the dear—which moved nimbly away and left Hallard to crash into a shrub.
It was her fault. Hallard was still reeling from Melody's kiss. She'd gotten under his skin whether she meant to or not. His edge was gone, taken away by a woman. But he hardly knew her, and surely there were better mates out there than a junkie with loose morals.
A light wind picked up and something on it stank. The smell wasn't human, but it wasn't quite animal either. They were walking closer, making little effort to move silently as he did.
Werewolves.
Hallard hid himself in the foliage and waited, ready to run, or to fight.
Their bodiless voices carried through the darkness as they walked nearer. "There was definitely something here. I heard it."
"There's a lot of things out here. We're in the fucking jungle," said another. I don't smell nothing."
The breeze was carrying their foul smell to Hallard, but he was thankfully downwind of them.
"Ain't no jungles around here you stupid shit," said a third. "Just keep moving. I'm not taking the blame if we don't search our part of the woods by morning."
They were in view, but only as shadows in the night. Hallard was sure they wouldn't see him in his hiding spot, especially when they away from where he was. The breeze picked up even more and changed direction.
"Wait, you smell that? I'd swear that's—a woman!"
"That's gotta be her!," said another. "Maybe we can have some fun before we take her in. All three ran off toward the cave, moving one after the other through the dense woods.
Hallard crept from his hiding spot and near-silently lurched after them, changing form as he went. He'd gotten deadly-close before the one at the rear noticed his presence and turned around.
"You did hear something," he called to his comrades. But they kept on running after the scent they'd caught on the breeze of Melody.
Hallard rushed forward and wrapped his powerful upper limbs around the hapless werewolf, digging unnaturally large bears claws into his back and squeezing. Blood poured form the punctures, the smell intoxicating Hallard. Still in human form, so vulnerable, the torso crunched under the force.
Hallard had been distracted but he managed to regain his senses enough to drop his dead victim to the ground.
The other two were headed toward the cave, gone through the trees in their wolf forms. But the mammoth bear simply couldn't move as quickly, even while using all four limbs to propel himself through the familiar terrain. His heart felt a gaping hole that widened as the monstrous things got farther away from him. He'd been so weak to let his killer instinct take hold of him.
As Hallard finally came up to the serene spot where his cave was nestled, he was pumped with adrenaline.
They'd already gone inside. There was an ear shattering scream—Melody of course. Hallard hurtled into the cave, still in bear form.
One of them had her by the throat, standing beside the bed. The other was partway on top of her on the bed, pinning her down with its claws and snapping at her face, narrowly missing on purpose.
The werewolves were too excited with their catch to notice Hallard at first, but Melody did, her eyes pleading in terror.
Focused on the wolf that was on top of her, Hallard launched his body at it and they collided with the cave's interior, on the other side of the bed. The wolf's body broke loudly, its head making a hideous crack sound. It went limp and slumped over the foot of the bed.
"Hallard!" Melody screamed.
The final living wolf still had her by the throat. It was trying to smile through that erect, elongated snout, black nostrils flaring out as it breathed with heat.
Hallard turned and said, "Let her go."
"You must think I'm stupid as shit. Fuck off, or your little bitch here's gonna bleed." It had a good point. Those claws were already pushing down too hard on her throat. It would only take a split second for the wolf to kill. Its eyes were lit bright like candles at a black mass, just waiting to see innocent blood spilled.
"Okay, just don't hurt her, please." Hallard made himself look as non-threatening as possible in the hopes it would spare her life. He would let them get around the corner, out of the cave's interior room, and then he could give chase and sneak up on them. These were his woods.
"Get your juicy ass outside, bitch," the werewolf snarled.
Melody moved cautiously, going along with her captor's instructions.
As they left the inner cave, the wolf continued talking. "I might fuck you first myself, put a bun in your oven. How about that, sugar tits? What the --"
Chapter Sixteen
Melody could hardly breath with the grip around her throat, but she was not ready to die that night.
Earlier that day, she'd borrowed a kitchen knife from Hallard's things and slipped it under the mattress to make herself feel safer. The testosterone-pumped werewolf had been too busy gloating, and had not even noticed her slip the blade beneath her waistband as he pulled her away. The blade nicked her skin as she withdrew it.
But it was in her hand and, just as the feral bastard commented about what he would do to her, she twisted around in his grip and drove the thing into his chest--aiming for the heart. He went from gloating to grunting, hacking up something, choking on his own breaths.
Melody slipped free and ran from the cave, out into the night. She made it to a group of trees and turned to see if he was following. But the wolf was down, right where she'd stabbed
Hallard ran out to meet her, after stopping to check that the werewolf was dead on his way out if the cave.
"I'm trying to watch my carbs," said Melody.
"What?"
"You know ... because he wanted to put a bun in my oven ... like bread, carbs. No good? Well, I've never done this before. You'll have to teach me some better one liners." She tried to laugh but a cough came out. Her voice was raw and her throat stung.
"Oh ..." he said without humor.
She felt light headed and leaned against a tree.
Hallard put a hand on her, comfortingly, but seemed unsure with his actions. "I can't believe you did that. Wow ..."
"Thanks? I need a minute.""
"Say, let's both take a minute, okay."
"Definitely," replied Melody.
Back in the cave, Melody looked away as Hallard twisted the other werewolf's neck around so far he could have walked backward and easily seen where he was going, if he wasn't dead. All this bloodshed was wearing her down. "Is it really murder if they're not human?"
"You did what you had to do," said Hallard. "It's not safe here anymore."
"Is it any safer out there?" asked Melody. "No one else knows where to find us." Her thinking was unclear. She'd felt a lot for stable during the rush of action, but was becoming wobblier by the minute. That's why she'd taken to the bed the moment they got inside.
Hallard just dismissed her comments with a shake of his head. He was demonstrating a growing panic by pacing in and out of the cave. He would circle the small interior every so often, and then pace back outside, only to return with a seemingly more anxious look on his face. Each time he wondered back in, he'd say something else ...
"I can't leave ... But they said they had sections ... There must be a wider search going on ... They'll come looking for their missing friends soon." Finally, he came back ins
ide and stopped. "No, we have to go."
"You keep saying that. If you think it's okay, then okay."
"Okay? I don't know what you want to take with you. Where will we go? I don't know where we'll go. This has been my only home for so long ..."
"Don't worry, we're both in the same shitty boat," she replied.
"Maybe the best plan for us is no plan, at least while we're on the run."
"Hmm, maybe you're right. Best we just get away from here until they stop looking for us."
"We could west, go out to the country. I've never seen it. And you'd have all the trees you could want," she said, trying to be cheery. It only made her throat throb and she winced.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" He fully focused his attention on her for the first time since the violent encounter. The anxiety surrounding him noticeably melted away. "Did he hurt you bad?"
Melody felt very exposed suddenly with him looking at her. She stared ahead and shrugged. "No, I'm fine."
Hallard stooped down beside her and looked at her, side-on. He put his hand on her shoulder and she startled.
"Shit," Melody said. Her breathing rocketed.
He pulled back his hand like he might have hurt her. Then, he brought it slowly back, slid carefully up to the contoured slope joining it to her neck.
Her eyelids fluttered and tiny strands of electricity glittered around her for only a second, until she had to stop herself from gasping air, like being gradually submerged in ice water. It wasn't because it hurt. It did, but Hallard's touch on her neck wasn't making it worse. "That feels nice," she said.
"That bastard really got you good. I should have stopped him."
"You couldn't have. You weren't here."
"I'm ... sorry." He pulled his hand away and went to move back.
Melody breathed out the word, "No," with almost no sound. "No, don't stop," she continued, a little louder, and took his hand in her own, placing it back on her neck. "Your touch is soothing." Melody looked up at him coyly.
"Like this?" he said with hesitation, but also veiled eagerness. He touched her brutalized skin in such a tender way that the action solicited a smile, from each of them.
Melody rested her cheek on Hallard's hand and patted the bed. "Will you sit beside me?"
"Huh? Of course, Melody." He sat beside her and they stayed that way for some time.
Melody didn't have anything to bring with her, so she just helped get some things together.
It must have been hard to put all of his worldly possessions--all of his world--into a backpack, but Hallard did it.
"Do you think you'll come back here?" she asked.
"No." He shrunk into himself, his whole body shrugging involuntarily.
"I mean, I'm sure you'll be able to soon. Sorry, forget I said that." Melody wanted to comfort him, to press her body into his, meld together. She wanted another fix suddenly, but focused beating the idea down, at least until they were away from this place.
As they left his home, Hallard showed no signs of emotions. As they left the cave, left the clearing, and left Hallard's world, he walked tall and looked directly ahead.
"It's okay to be sentimental about it," Melody told him. Maybe that was just her own out-of-whack brain chemicals making her feel sad. Possibly, she wouldn't have been empathetic if she were high and having fun.
They walked for what must have been an hour, at least. Melody's feet were sore already. "I really wish I had something on my feet. Not those ridiculous heels either." That reminded her of Grave's pierced eyeball, wriggling jelly oozing with blood.
"You'll be alright. We can buy some shoes and new clothes along the way. I have money, a big chunk of it." He moved ahead, holding back a low-hanging branch that was in the way, so Melody could more easily pass.
"Wait, you do?" she said, shocked. Where in the hell did you get that?" She went by and stopped to look at him, jaw slack.
"People do come out here, they just never go as deep into the woods as my cave. But they lose things more than you'd think. I've found clothes--especially underwear and socks--old supplies, even whole backpacks, and wallets."
Melody continued to stare at him with incredulity. "You thief."
"What am I going to do, hand them in to the police?" He kept walking, trying to act all innocent.
Melody followed after him. "That is an idea, Hallard. There's no way you could find much."
"No, you're right," he said over his shoulder to her. "But I do know animals, especially horses. And I do have to go into the city, very occasionally, for essential items."
"So you're a God-damn hustler? I would have never picked it. Well, you did hide it well. Where do you leave all that money just --"
"Wait, did you snoop through my things?" He stopped and spun around to face her.
"No. Yes." Melody started talking faster. "I'm sorry but you really are an interesting character and I had to know more and I didn't even know if you were really safe and I was scared ..." Taking a deep breath, she added, "Besides, it's not every day you meet a shape shifter."
After a long pause, Hallard sighed and turned back around to keep walking. They continued for some time, him saying nothing and her too nervous to start ask if we was mad. He did pick up the pace though.
Eventually, he said, "Don't beat yourself up about it. Like you said, the money wasn't mine to start with anyway. And I know it's all there."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Melody said through deep breathing. "Hallard, I need to take a break for a minute. Don't forget I was just on bed rest, and we don't all have the stamina of a bear." She leant her hands on her thighs to rest. "Just a minute," she added, seeing that Hallard wasn't eager to stop.
He nodded with reluctance though, and they sat down on a wide, mostly flat rock under a shady tree. "Werebear," he mused. "Doesn't have the same ring to it as werewolf, huh?
"Beats being an abominable bear-man, right?"
"You're funny."
"Don't you know what others call you?"
"Before the night I found you, I'd never met another shape shifter in my life, unless you count what I remember of my father." It was a forlorn confession, but only a sliver of sadness crept through the cracks in his stern facade. "I will say though, judging from your stamina--or lack of it--I think you're still human."
Melody felt another overwhelming desire to hold him, but it was clear that he wanted to change the subject, so she did too. "Seriously? I guess I'm not exactly showing any super strength or healing ... That's good then. I'm human!" She raised her arms in a mock cheer, which hurt. "Although if it would stop all these aches and pains, maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad."
They had to keep going, despite Melody's weakened state. She wasn't sure how much, but her cravings were definitely making her feel worse. They walked until they reached a thick line of trees, almost artificially perfect. They stopped, Hallard looking around intently and listening to what seemed like nothing in particular.
"What are we going to do?" Melody asked through heavy breaths. "And what are you trying to hear?"
"Oh, I guess you can't hear that, can you?"
Melody shook her head.
"We're at the edge of the woods now. I can hear the, silence ... but it's been replaced with people, distant cars, all that hustle, bustle shit."
"But those things can be useful. Like cars, for instance."
"We're still not close to the highway," said Hallard. "The chances of landing a lift with anyone on the backroads around here are slim."
"That could be even better. Forget hitching with some stranger who'll want to ask a million questions we don't want to be answering. Do you think you could get us near some place with a car that's not being watched too carefully?"
Hallard thought about it for some time, then nodded. "There are cabins, vacation houses, that kind of thing. Some of them are occupied all year. I can find one with a car. Something tells me you're not planning on asking to borrow one."
"You are smarter
than you look then, bear man," Melody said. She was feeling spunkier just from knowing they were closer to civilization."
When they'd come to a quiet spot where a very vintage cabin was nestled among the sparsely spaced trees at the edge of the woods, Hallard and Melody crept up to the rusted pickup in the driveway.
"I think we could find something, I don't know, less likely to fall apart on the freeway," whispered Melody close to Hallard's ear. Being right up near him like that made her spine shiver.
"I don't recall any other places for at least a good hour's hike. Even then, they might be empty."
Melody squinted at the beat up vehicle and chewed on her bottom lip. "Damn. You know what though? Could probably get this thing going with something as simple as a screwdriver in the ignition, it's so damn old." She moved over beside the pickup, crouching behind it to stay hidden from anyone who might be in the cabin.
Hallard followed and lowered himself beside her. "What exactly did you get up to in your youth? You really know how to do this?"
"Yes, I can. But do you know how to drive? I'm not pulling double shifts behind the wheel." She tried to find any signs of an alarm, unlikely as it was. Satisfied there would be no cursed beeping and honking, she tested the door. "Of course it's not even locked," she said.
"I guess they're fools for believing they could let their guards down out here," answered Hallard vacantly.
Melody tried to open the door quietly, but the hinges needed a good fix of oil. She cringed and listened for any sign of alert from the cabin, then finished climbing into the seat. "Hallard, you are not going to believe this," she said a little too loudly.
"Keep it down," he whispered back sharply.
"Sorry," she said much more quietly. "But check this out." And she turned the key--which was sitting right there in the ignition--bringing to life the lumbering beast of an engine. It didn't even sound too bad, nor did it have any trouble turning over.
"Holy shit," Melody said.
"Yeah, holy shit indeed," said Hallard excitedly as he skipped around to the passenger side door and jumped into the pickup. "Let's get the hell out of here before someone notices we're--"
Shifting Solitude (Outlaws, Fangs and Claws Book 1) Page 6