The Original's Return (Book 2): The Original's Retribution

by David Watkins

  He'd been lucky to keep his job, and he still wasn't really sure why he hadn't been court-martialled. But now, here he was again faced with difficult choices. He had to warn Katie; felt sure the wolves - Bryant - were heading to her, but how could he do that? Raymond had told him to rest, not go to Katie, but Raymond didn’t know the danger she was in.

  “Fuck it,” Knowles said out loud, then he went to look for the team that were about to head to Devon.

  3

  After speaking to his boss, Raymond picked up the phone and dialled a number from memory.

  “Major,” came the thick northern accent of Doctor Peacock. She was a slim, harsh woman with jet black hair and even darker eyes. Raymond closed her file before answering.

  “Doctor, could you give me a sit-rep on the bones?”

  “We are no further along than when you called yesterday, sir.”

  “Have you seen the news, Doctor?”

  “Yes, sir. Was it our guy?”

  “No, someone new. We need a solution here and we have run out of time.”

  “Sir, the bones are normal. Big, yes, but clearly canine as outlined in the initial report. We concur that it is probably a direwolf, but as they died out millennia ago, we can't be certain.”

  “DNA?”

  “We're running the sequencers. However, due to the age of the bones we're not getting much that we don't already have from creatures that died around the same period.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The bones are normal. Whatever is happening to these men cannot be scientifically linked to these bones.”

  “Shit.”

  “My thoughts exactly, sir.”

  “We need them destroyed.”

  “Sir?”

  He could hear the shock in her voice, but it didn’t surprise him. She was a scientist after all.

  “Burn the bones, crush them into a pulp, hell I don't care what you do,” Raymond said. “I never want to live through a day like this again. Those things have killed hundreds of people in one day. Destroy it, destroy it all.”

  “Sir, I really think we need to sleep on this and not rush-”

  “Dammit, doctor, I gave you an order. Follow it.” He hung up, angrily pressing the red button on the phone which was nowhere near as satisfying as slamming a phone down.

  Now all we have to do is wipe them all out.

  4

  Raymond held the file for Stadler in his hands, rereading it again and again. Katie Stadler kept staring at him from her photo, her eyes judging him although they had never met. The next picture was of the baby, Josh. Six months old now with no idea his father was alive. Probably no idea of what a father actually was.

  What if Knowles was right? What if wolves were on their way to kill her? Raymond glanced at the news, still leading with the massacre at the service station. The reporter was listing all the different rumours as to what had happened and why. It was quite a list at the moment. The bulletin ended with a clear rebuke of the film rumour.

  He was expecting the phone to ring at any moment. He'd been put in charge to keep the problem in check, but it had exploded exponentially out of control. Raymond had no-one to blame but himself: Bryant had been brought in by Raymond. Knowles had been kept on, despite the recommendation of court martial from above. Raymond had gone to bat for him and now this.

  He remembered the excitement he'd felt at being promoted to Major. The pride. The look on his mother’s face: the relief that he had returned from active duty alive and in one piece coupled with the sheer joy at his promotion. His father watched, as ever, silently from a picture on the mantelpiece.

  Something me and Josh Stadler have in common.

  With a roar, Raymond swept all the files off his desk. Two months. I've been a major for two months. He had never felt so impotent in his life. Time to take charge.

  He looked at his watch. The Devon team would not have left yet. Raymond looked around his office, at the mess he had just created and the constant news stream on the television. There is nothing but trouble for me here. Paperwork and a demotion at best.

  “Fuck it,” Raymond said and left his office.

  5

  Knowles found four men in the armoury. They were signing forms and collecting their kit.

  “Mind if I tag along?” Knowles said. The man in charge looked him up and down, disdain clear in his expression.

  “Yeah, I do actually. We don't want no wolf lover along for the ride.”

  “It’s Taylor isn't it?”

  The man nodded.

  “I know I'm only a sergeant, but you speak to me like that again and not only will you be written up, but I will get you on gate duty for the next month. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal.” The scowl on his face wasn’t going away soon. Maybe it’s his natural look.

  “Good. Now, I saw you take on the Wolf.”

  Taylor nodded again.

  “You lost.”

  “Nothing but a few bruises,” Taylor said.

  “Sure, but now you’ve got a better idea of what we’re up against.” Knowles grinned at each man in turn. “Now, do you mind if I tag along?”

  “No, sergeant, it would be an honour to have a man of your experience along.”

  Knowles ignored the emphasis. “It will be my pleasure. Who are your team?”

  Taylor introduced the others: Williams, who looked as sullen as Taylor; Hibbard, whose smile was not genuine and Cockbain whose was. They were all dressed in body armour and carried the standard L85 A2, and Hibbard had a grenade attachment under the barrel of his. Williams had a sniper rifle strapped to his back.

  “I need one of those,” Knowles said to Taylor, indicating the assault rifle.

  Taylor sighed and took another L85 A2 out, pushing the forms to Knowles. “Sign your life away, sergeant.” The group moved outside, where a shooting range was set up with targets 200 yards away. Each of them took turns to zero their weapons before returning to the armoury so Knowles could collect his body armour.

  Knowles strapped his chest armour on and picked up his weapon.

  “Don't you want legs and arms as well sergeant?” Williams had a much higher pitched voice than his build suggested. Poor sod.

  “The wolves will be licking him, not chasing him,” Taylor sneered. Knowles grabbed the man by the chest piece and pushed him against the wall, hard.

  “I warned you,” Knowles said, “now cut the shit.”

  “Let Taylor go, sergeant.”

  They all turned at the new voice, and Knowles swore again.

  “We are going to see Katie Stadler and make sure she does not come to any mischief.”

  Mischief? Seriously? What century does he think it is? Wait- “We?” Knowles asked.

  Raymond smiled, and it was as genuine as Hibbard’s. “I'm coming with you.”

  Chapter 20

  1

  The entrance to a farm approached rapidly and Katie slammed on the brakes, swinging the car into the gateway with a squeal of tyres. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and her dead husband was sitting next to her, as naked as their wedding night.

  “You're alive,” she said. It sounded lame, even to her.

  Jack looked over his shoulder, back up the hill that they'd driven down at a speed that would have impressed Lewis Hamilton. He couldn't see the wolves. The other Original was not following - he would have known.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Fucking try me, Jack.”

  He told her. Everything.

  “I knew it.”

  That response he had not expected.

  “That night, when the wolves came. The soldier called you Jack. Who is that man, Jack?”

  “His name is Knowles, Peter Knowles. He was kind to me, pretty much the only soldier who was.” Him and his dead girlfriend, who would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. He left that bit out.

  “Why did you run?”

  “I was sca
red. I don't know enough about this,” he waved his hand at his body.

  “Are you dangerous?”

  He nodded. “Very. I couldn't risk hurting you or Josh.”

  “You remember his name then.”

  Jack looked so hurt that she immediately regretted the words.

  “The whole time I was with the army, I only worked with them because I wanted to come home to you. It was the only reason, Katie. You have to believe me.”

  “But you're not home, Jack. You're not with us.”

  “No, when I saw you,” he choked back sudden tears, “I knew I couldn't stay. I knew I'd put you in danger.”

  “So what was that just now?”

  “Proof that I was right to run away.” He paused, looking out of the window and blinking away more tears. “There is another guy who wants to be like me. He seems to have found some friends.”

  “Were they going to kill me?”

  Jack shook his head. “I don't think so. I think they wanted you to get to me.”

  “They wanted me? What about Josh?”

  All the colour drained from her face so quickly it was almost comical.

  Almost.

  “Oh, shit. Josh. Karen.” Katie gunned the engine and pulled into the lane. Their house was less than a mile and yet forever away.

  2

  Between Katie’s house and the neighbours, sat a driveway. Katie pulled onto it, nose first and was out of the car before Jack could say anything. He leapt out after her, not caring that he was naked. She threw open the back door and ran into the house.

  “Karen?” she shouted.

  Jack stepped into the kitchen and was assaulted by smells. Katie had eaten toast for breakfast. Last night she had made chilli. Her perfume was everywhere. He could smell baby lotion and the chamomile cream used for nappy rash. Where’s the dog? Jack looked around the kitchen, searching for signs of her before he remembered. Poor Ginny. The man who had killed her was also dead – one of the wolves that either Jack or Katie had killed the last time he had been in the house.

  But underneath, beneath the familiar scents, there were more smells, unfamiliar and yet-

  “Katie - wait!”

  Too late. Katie had run into the living room and screamed.

  Jack followed her, every muscle tense. The room was as he remembered: sofas in the same place; television on its black glass stand that looked great unless it was dusty - which was all the time; books on the bookcase, including his science fiction books and the grandfather clock against the back wall.

  Blood covered everything. It smeared the walls, filled the carpet with a wetness that squelched as he walked and he knew his feet would now be red. A dismembered body lay in the middle of the room, completely missing its head and left arm. Chunks were missing from the legs and remaining arm. The legs had been severed and a foot lay by itself on the largest sofa. A trail of intestines led to the door to the hallway where it abruptly stopped.

  Katie was still screaming but was now also crying.

  “Katie, come here,” Jack said softly. He put his arm around his wife and steered her toward the hallway. He sat her on the bottom stair and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Stay here,” he said. “You have to be quiet.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide and already red from crying. He could see she was about to explode in anger at him. Jack leant forward, and touched his forehead to hers and started whispering.

  “You have to be quiet, babe, please,” he said. Jack broke contact and looked around the kitchen. He stood, picked up the largest knife they had from its stand on the counter and pressed it into her hand. “They might still be here.”

  She sat on the step, still sobbing but much more quietly, clutching the knife tightly in both hands. Jack started to walk upstairs.

  3

  Memories assaulted Jack as he moved. Carrying Katie across the threshold, both of them giggling as he struggled. Wouldn’t be a problem now. Opening wedding presents, excited about the future. The first time Karen and John had come to dinner. John had drunk too much whiskey and they had ended the night trying to catch a frog that had somehow got into the house. Carrying Josh up to his Moses basket on his return from the maternity unit. The last time he was here, as the Wolf, racing to save his wife and child. That night, blood had spattered the walls, but he had not stopped to question how then.

  There was blood on the same walls again now, although this time it was the blood of a friend. Jack felt sick but pushed himself on. How many more people are going to die? The carnage in his house was incredible. I am going to kill you, Bryant.

  And how are you going to do that, Jackie boy? He is Special Forces. He kills people like you just for fun.

  Jack shook away the other voice in his head. Bryant would pay, that was the only thing he was sure of.

  Four doors led off the landing: one to his right, one in the wall in front of him and a further two to his left. He opened the right hand one first, but it was their spare room and had only a double bed in it. Their parents stayed in there when they visited, and he had a moment where he wondered if his parents had ever visited in the time that he was supposed to be dead. He was surprised to see the bed unmade, and Katie’s toiletries on the chest of drawers that hadn't been in there when he’d last left the house.

  The middle room was the one they had set aside for Josh’s nursery, so many months ago. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door to the room.

  Josh’s cot was empty, with a small amount of blood on the blankets. Jack stifled a shout and looked more closely.

  The blood was two small smears, and Jack realised that it was from someone picking Josh up. Karen’s blood, covering the hands of whoever had Josh now. He looked around the room, but there was nothing there, no clues as to where they might have gone.

  He peered into his and Katie’s room, which was colder than the rest of the house. The window was covered with a sheet of polythene, and he winced.

  Of course. At least he now knew why Katie was sleeping in the other room.

  On the wall opposite the door, written in blood, were the words:

  We have your child.

  Bring us your husband.

  The pub.

  4

  Jack sank to the floor with a thump. All the air rushed out of his lungs at once and he couldn't breathe for a moment. His heart was hammering hard in his chest and he felt the tell-tale tingle in his arms as thick black fur sprouted along them.

  “No,” he bellowed, but with a voice that wasn’t his own. Deeper, more guttural. Jack shook his head, feeling his face elongate. Claws were emerging on the tips of his fingers and he roared again.

  He forced deep breaths into his lungs, keeping the air down, focusing on his breathing and counting. Triangle numbers this time. He felt his face return to normal and saw the fur receding faster than the claws. Not today, not in this house, not in this room.

  He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see Katie in the doorway. She was shaking, tears streaming down her face. He couldn't tell if they were fresh or not.

  “Katie, I will sort this out.”

  She shook her head. “They have my son. Who are they, Jack?”

  “People,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. My son, not our son. That hurt.

  “Wolves?”

  He nodded. “Bad ones. It’s my fault, Katie. I’m the reason they came here. I told you I was dangerous now.”

  “Find them, Jack. Find them and get my son back.”

  This last was said at barely above a whisper, not that it mattered with Jack’s hearing. She turned and left the room, walking away from him almost on tiptoe.

  After a moment, he heard the bedroom door open, and the tell-tale creak of the wardrobe door. I should call Knowles. Jack forced himself to stand and follow his wife. He found her sitting on the floor in the bedroom, a shotgun in her arms. She was loading cartridges into it carefully.

  “Shit, Katie,” he started. She gave him a look and he shut up. She ra
rely got angry, but when she did it was best to be quiet. He had learned that years before.

  “I am going to kill them if they have hurt him,” she said, a quiet firmness to her voice.

  “I need some clothes, babe.” The words were out before he realised what he had said.

  “Don't you fucking 'babe' me!” she snarled. “We were fine whilst you were dead. Karen was alive and,” her face creased up and she started to cry again. “We need to ring the police.” She pushed past him, still holding the shotgun. “Your clothes are where you left them.”

  “Katie, wait, don't ring the police.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “I'm supposed to be dead.”

  “So? Karen is dead. Dead, Jack. They have Josh. Nothing else matters,” she said. “I don't even know who 'they' are.”

  “If you ring the police, they will either think you’re mad or they will come.”

  “Good. I want them to.”

  “No, Katie. If the police meet these wolves it will be a bloodbath.” He touched her arm. “Please, no more death, not because of me.”

  “If they have hurt Josh,” she began.

  “I don’t mean them. No-one innocent.”

  She nodded at him, seeing the sense in what he was saying. Her lips were thin and she wore a frown like she was used to it. “Get dressed,” she said, then ran down the stairs, leaving him.

  He went to their old bedroom and looked in the chest of drawers. She hadn't thrown any of his stuff away and he was soon dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

  The pub. Bryant had taken Josh to the pub. Attract Katie to a public place, capture her too. Bryant didn’t know that Jack was in Huntleigh too, or at least he hadn’t when he’d taken Josh, so would he now change his plan? Would he still be in the pub? Safety in a public place?

  What if we both lose control, like in Raymond’s office?

  Jack didn't think that was likely: they had met once and both now knew what the other was. There would be no surprises.

  Something else was niggling away at the back of Jack’s mind the whole time he was fixated on the pub and it lurched into the foreground now.

  Where’s Michael?