by Amy Cross
"No need for that," John replies. "If you've been spending time with Duncan, you could probably use a little rest right now. I'll sort out some food for you, you must be starving".
I nod and, for the first time in days, I actually relax a little. It seems this John Falstaff guy has his heart in the right place, and I can handle a little rest before Duncan returns, which - let's face it - is probably going to bring a whole heap of new trouble.
One week later, standing in my room upstairs in the pub, looking out the window at the fields and the spires of the city in the distance, a heavy, terrible realisation hits me. It has now been over a week since I last saw Duncan, and I can't ignore the final words he spoke to me:
"If I'm not there in a week, you have assume that I'm dead... There's no way I wouldn't come to find you. There's so much I have to tell you, to teach you. I'll come and find you, but if I don't, you know it's because I couldn't. And there's only one reason for that".
If I believe him, if I do what he says, then I have to assume that he's dead. Don't I? He said he was going somewhere first, but that he'd catch up with me. And then I ran, and I ran, and I ran, and no-one chased me. I guess they all went after Duncan, in which case...
What do I do? Do I go back to London and try to find him? Do I wait here? Do I accept that he's gone and just give up? And whatever I do, how can I support myself? After all, my job at the club in London is clearly gone, and I can't count on John Falstaff helping me, even though he's been great so far.
Heading downstairs, I find John sitting alone behind the bar. It's a quiet pub, with barely any visitors during the day and just a handful in the evening. But John seems to like it that way, even if it means there's little likelihood of him needing any help with the customers.
"Still no sign, then," he says, glancing up from his paper.
"No," I say. "He told me that if he didn't arrive in a week, I should assume he's dead. Do you believe that?"
John stares at me for a moment. "I believe that Duncan is smart, and trustworthy, and he knows what he's doing. If he says something, it's probably true".
I nod, not sure what to say.
"You can stay here as long as you like," he says. "You never know, maybe Duncan just got held up".
"Maybe," I say, though I don't believe it for a second. If he could get here, he'd be here. If he was breathing, he'd be here. The fact that he's not here is ominous, and I have to assume that it's bad news. The worst news.
"Wait for him," John says. "Just give him a little while longer. Give him one more night".
"I should leave," I say. "Whatever Duncan had planned, it's obviously not working".
"Where will you go?"
I shrug. "I have no idea. Not back to London, that's for sure".
After staring into space for a moment, I realise that John is watching me.
"Where are your family, Jess?" he asks. "If you don't mind me asking".
"They're..." I think about it for a moment. What do I say? How do I end this conversation quickly? "They're dead," I say, deciding to lie. "Car crash".
"I'm sorry," he says.
"It's fine," I reply, feeling bad for lying to him. But the truth is, there's no way I want to talk to him about my family.
"Listen," he says, getting to his feet and hauling his bulk over so he can put an arm around my shoulders. "You hang on for one more day, and I guarantee you that Duncan will come strolling through the door. On two legs or four, he'll be here".
I take a deep breath. "Okay," I say. I suppose it makes sense, and it'll give me time to come up with some other plan. I decide to try changing the subject. "So how did you meet Duncan?" I ask.
John smiles. "I've helped werewolves on and off all through my life. I'm kind of an expert on them. You could say I wrote the spotter's guide to the damn things".
I smile, but it's a forced, fake smile.
"He'll be okay," John says. "He's used to looking after himself. He'll come waltzing through that door any day, and everything'll be just fine. He's been in worse scrapes than this, I promise".
I nod. "I think I'll go for a walk," I say, and I head out the door.
When I arrived here in Oxford, it never occurred to me that Duncan wouldn't be right behind me. He always seemed so certain, so cool, so expect at everything. Now, though, it seems that he might have got something wrong. Very wrong. And he might have paid with his life.
Later that night, I wake up suddenly. It's still dark, and a quick glance at my watch reveals that it's just after 3am. I roll onto my side, ready to go to sleep again, when I hear something in the distance. It's only a small noise, like the sound of a car door being closed gently, but it's enough to get my attention. I listen out for more, and I realise I can hear footsteps outside. My heart racing, I sit up in bed, then I get up, put some clothes on and go out my bedroom door.
I can instantly hear that there are voices downstairs. Three or four people are talking quietly. None of them sound like Duncan, so I sneak towards the top of the stairs and try to listen.
"It'll be tax-free," I hear a male voice saying. "You don't need to worry about that".
"And you won't kill her?" asks a male voice that I immediately recognise as John.
"No," says the male voice. "Of course not".
"And Duncan," says John. "What about him?"
"I'm sorry," says the male voice. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that. Let's just say that the operation has been a complete success and Greystone is no more". There's a pause. "I imagine you're quite relieved about that," says the man eventually.
"I don't give a shit any more," John says. "I'm happy sitting here in my pub. Now go and do your dirty work so I can get back to bed".
"You heard the man," says the male voice. "Go get her".
"What do I do if she resists?" asks another male voice.
"When she resists," says the first male voice, "you know exactly what to do".
I suddenly hear several sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. Running back to my room, I open the window and climb onto the ledge. I'm only on the second floor of the building, so the jump shouldn't be a problem - certainly nothing compared to the jump I made the other day...
"Don't move a muscle," shouts a voice behind me.
I turn to find three soldiers standing in the doorway, with their rifles pointed straight at me.
For a moment, I try to think of a witty comeback, but I can't so I just let myself fall. As I drop, I hear a couple of shots being fired before I land hard on the ground. I can already feel my bones fixing themselves as I get to my feet and run around the side of the pub.
"Stop!" shouts a voice in the darkness.
It takes me a moment to work out where the person is, but then I spot a soldier running towards me from the pub's front door. With no time to think, no time to react, I grab him by the collar and throw him to one side. Not realising my own strength, I end up throwing him a few metres, and he collapses to the ground.
A few more shots ring out, and I run. I have no idea where I'm going, but I know I have to get away from here. Damn John Falstaff for betraying me, I swear to God if I ever get a chance to come back, I'll finish him off.
Looking over my shoulder, I see the bright lights of an approaching vehicle. Fuck, they're chasing me. There's no way I can out-run them and -
A shot rings out and a terrible pain rips through my shoulder. I stumble but I manage to keep running, and when I glance at the injury I see a red patch of blood forming. Realising I've been shot, I run as hard as I can but I can hear the vehicle catching up to me. With no options left, I make a sharp left and head down a side road, but up ahead a couple more soldiers appear. I've already reached them, though, before they can raise their guns to fire, and to my surprise I find that I'm able to leap right over them.
When I land, I find I can run even faster. I can no longer hear anyone chasing me, all that I'm focusing on is the fact that I can run and run and run. The adrenalin builds and builds, and I feel it c
oursing through my body. Soon I'm on the outskirts of town, running so fast it's impossible to believe it' still me, and I'm not even tired. But eventually I decide to slow down and I come to a halt in a small ditch by the side of the road, and that's when I realise...
I'm not standing up normally.
I'm on all fours.
Panting, I look down at my hands, but all I see are two large grey paws. Is it possible? Somewhere in the chase, did I abandon my human form and become a wolf? After trying for so long, did I finally manage to achieve the transformation without thinking about it? And if I did, then how did it happen? How can I do it again? And how can I go back to being human? I look up at the moon and I feel... a connection, somehow. And I start to realise something... Duncan is alive. I don't know where, and I don't know what he's doing, but he's alive. I just have to find him.
Feeling free for the first time in years, I walk away from the road and into a nearby field. I feel right at home here, and thanks to my thick layer of fur I'm not even cold. I walk through the field slowly, savouring every smell, until finally I find myself in the middle of the field, surrounded on all sides by tall wheat. My shoulder still hurts, so I sit down, and then I roll onto my side, and soon I'm asleep.
Epilogue 1
Bristol Temple Meads train station, 2 weeks later
I take the newspaper off the stand and look closer at the story at the bottom of the front page:
"Oxford pub landlord death: robbery suspected".
I smile as I read on: "Police in Oxford say they believe a popular local pub landlord was shot dead by robbers. John Falstaff, 62, was found dead almost two weeks ago in the bar area of the Bell and Lion pub in Winchester Road. An initial investigation has found that money was missing from the pub's cash register, leading to the suspicion that he was shot when he disturbed a robbery on the premises".
I put the newspaper down for a moment. How convenient. John Falstaff, the man who seemed to know a hell of a lot about werewolves in general and Greystone in particular, dies in a robbery just a day or two after I escape from his pub. I'm sure there's nothing suspicious about that at all.
"You gonna buy that?" asks the man behind the counter.
I put the newspaper back on the stand and head out onto the platform. I'm waiting for the train to Cornwall. I figure I might as well hide out down in the wilds of the South West for a while. I have a friend down in Penzance who I can probably stay with for a few weeks while I work out what to do.
Every so often, I get flashes of realisation that Duncan is still alive. I really believe that he's out there somewhere. So why hasn't he come to find me yet? Why has he just abandoned me? I suppose he might have gone to the Bell and Lion in Oxford and found out what happened, in which case he might be wondering if I escaped. But he seems to have a very developed sense of other werewolves, so shouldn't he be able to sniff me out? In which case, I have to wonder if there's something holding him back. Is he being held captive? And what do I do? Should I try to find him, to rescue him? Or should I wait?
I need time to think. Cornwall is a good opportunity to rest and work out my next move. I also need to practice certain things. After all, I've still only managed to change into a wolf once, so I need to practice my skills a little and get better at that. Plus, I got the feeling that Duncan was going to teach me some thing, and now I have to discover them about myself. It's funny how my body is suddenly so hard to understand, how it's suddenly so alien. I really need to get to grips with it, to explore myself. Without Duncan's help, that's going to be difficult.
The train arrives and I get onboard. Settling in my seat, I check how much money I have left. There's not much, just enough to get me to Penzance. After that, I have to find a way to make some quick money. And then... I have to find Duncan. I don't know how, but I have to find him. He might need me. And I definitely need him.
Epilogue 2
I sit on the end of my bed, staring at the jewellery box. Is tonight the night?
For two weeks now, I've kept the thing closed, terrified of what might be inside. I've been looking through the USB devices, but most of them seem to be full of dull technical reports. The jewellery box, on the other hand, seems to be something very different. Not only does it seem to contain some kind of light, but it also makes a buzzing sound and it feels... alive, almost.
I take a deep breath.
Be brave, Margaret. Be brave.
Would Martin have been too scared to open the box? Would he? No! He'd have opened it by now. After all, what's the worst that could happen? How bad could something be if it fits neatly into a jewellery box?
Realising how silly I've been, I take the box in my hands and stare at it for a moment.
It's time.
I take another deep breath. Gosh, I don't think I've been so nervous since... well, since forever!
Slowly, I open the lid. Just a little. As happened last time, there's a light inside, and a loud buzz starts to come from the box. Fighting the urge to slam the lid shut and forget about it, I open the lid all the way. I have to look away, because the light is so powerful, and eventually the box becomes too hot to touch.
Putting the box on the floor, I step away to the other side of the room. The light from the box is now so bright, I can barely see anything, and the buzzing sound if getting louder and louder. I need to close the lid, but there's so much heat I don't think I can get close enough.
I put my hands to my ears as the buzzing suddenly changes, becoming much more high-pitched. It's almost painful to listen to it. I turn and try to go to the door, but the pain is becoming intense and I drop to my knees. I think I'm screaming, but it's hard to tell because I can't hear anything above the buzzing of the box.
Finally, I turn my face towards the box and against all reason I open my eyes. And that's when I see it. Emerging slowly from the box, it looks at me, and I look back at it. So much light, so much heat, so much energy. Slowly, it smiles, and then it steps towards me.
The light becomes even brighter, the heat even more intense. I feel as if my ears are bleeding. Unable to take it any more, I collapse to the floor. Even with my eyes closed, the light is so intense I can see it through my eyelids. It's as if the sun itself was in the box. And then I feel the most intense pain, and suddenly it feels as if I'm watching my body from the outside, as the heat burns me up completely.
Book 4:
Carnival of Wolves
Prologue
When I open my eyes, I find I'm in a completely different place.
The last thing I remember was being out with a friend in Cornwall. I'd gone down to spend a few days in Penzance, mainly because I had nowhere else to go and I needed somewhere to rest while I worked out my next move, but also because I hadn't seen my old friend Lacey for years and I thought she might have some good advice. Lacey has always been wise and helpful, and her first observation was that I needed to have a night out. So we headed along the coast to Falmouth and went to a little bar called Shades
I remember us leaving the bar at 2am and heading along the street to find a taxi. And then... I think we did end up in a taxi, I have this vague memory of us climbing into the back of a car... and then... we were being driven somewhere, and although Lacey was drunk she eventually noticed that we were driving the wrong way, and she told the driver we wanted to go to Penzance, and... he ignored her... and then I remember us being dragged out of the car into a muddy field, there were people waiting for us, men, and...
A gunshot and a scream rang out in the black of night.
The sound of a body hitting the ground.
Lacey...
The next thing I remember is being dragged screaming towards a van, where a fat man was waiting. He peered down at me and smiled, then he shone a torch right in my face and he said something like "That's the one" or "That's what we're after", and then I was thrown in the back of the van and the doors were slammed shut. I had a splitting headache, as if I'd been drugged, and as the van started I tried to get to my f
eet but I just collapsed. I remember thinking that I should fight back, that I should use my strength to do something, and then...
And then this.
I'm in pitch darkness, on a hard floor. I'm not tied up or anything, so I sit up and look around, peering into the blackness that surrounds me. I can't see anything, though; the blackness if absolute. As I continue to properly wake up, I start to become aware that there are noises nearby, like... like someone snoring, and like various people breathing. They sound close, but they can't be... I gently move forwards and...
Suddenly I find that there are metal bars preventing me from going any further. Turning, I find that there are bars all around me and above me. I'm in some kind of dark cage, barely a couple of metres wide and tall. I try to push against the bars, but it's no use, the whole structure is too heavy. I'm caged like a fucking wild animal!
I sit and take a deep breath. Okay, Jess, calm down, there has to be a way out of this. Why would someone kidnap me and put me in a little cage? It makes no sense. Frustrated, I bang on the bars to try to find some way out.
"Quiet!" calls out a voice nearby. It's a female voice, soft and sleepy.
"Hello?" I ask. "Who are you?"
"Go to sleep," the voice says, sounding as if it's already following her own advice.
"Where am I?" I ask.
"You'll find out in the morning," says the voice, before sighing. "Now go to sleep. You new ones are always such a pain in the arse".
"Tell me where I am," I say firmly, starting to get annoyed with how laid-back the voice seems to be. I peer into the darkness, hoping to make out some kind of shape, but it's useless. "Please," I say.
"Shut up!" calls another voice, a male voice, from behind me. I spin around, but of course there's no point: I still can't see anything. Groping around in the cage, I just find more bars.