The Way Home

by Shannon Flagg

  The blonde was thin, almost too thin, and looked like she'd been on the wrong end of an ass whipping. “What's this?” Houdini asked.

  “Found her in the woods. She says that she was in the hunt, hid from them.” Shepard all but rolled his eyes as he spoke. “I find that a little hard to believe.”

  “It's the damn truth,” the woman spoke up. “I am not one of them. Fuck that! They kept me chained up in a fucking barn, tied me up and brought me out here. The moon was full, I changed. I ran and when I got far enough away, I changed again. Went small. Hid.”

  “But you're dressed now.” Houdini could understand Shepard's mistrust. It seemed unlikely that she'd have eluded The Hunters for the entire night.

  “I found clothes in the woods, others must change here. There was enough for several people. I offered to show him, but he wasn't interested.” The woman looked over at Shepard with obvious dislike. Houdini nearly laughed.

  “You got a name?”

  “It would be pretty ridiculous if I didn't. I'm Sam. Sam Riley.”

  “But you wouldn't happen to have any identification to prove that.” Shepard shook his head. “I say that we leave her here. Can't risk that she's one of them.”

  “And if she's not one of them?” Houdini questioned. “We leave her here to figure a way out herself? Maybe get grabbed again?”

  “I'd rather die, so if you're going to leave me, just shoot me in the head.” Sam spoke up. “What if I show you how I hid? Would that maybe make you believe me?”

  “It would be a start.” Houdini was curious to see exactly what she'd been able to turn into. In his experience with Shifters, the smaller the animal the harder it was to maintain any kind of control. She looked around, sighed and pulled the shirt over her head. He'd never met a shy Shifter; being naked didn't seem to bother them much.

  Sam folded the clothes neatly, shut her eyes and the air around her began to shimmer and then she was gone. “Oh, fuck.” Houdini stared down at the tiny chipmunk where she'd been standing. “I've never seen anyone change into something so small.”

  “Neither have I.” Shepard didn't look pleased. Houdini looked around, tried to judge Nate and Lance's reactions to the first time that they'd seen a change. Lance looked a little sick and Nate just looked interested. It was a better reaction than he'd imagined.

  “We should take her back with us,” Houdini decided. “She might have information that we need without realizing it. She could lead us right to The Hunters.”

  “Can we make her stay like that for the trip?” Shepard questioned. “She's rather snippy.”

  “We can't do that, but how much can she talk on the back of your bike?” Houdini slapped the other man on the back.

  “Thanks.” Shepard sighed. “I'm going to have some of the Strays stay, see if The Hunters come back for the next moon. It's worth a shot.”

  “Good thinking. We should probably stop at a hotel, stay the night before someone lays their bike down and gets hurt.”

  “What if the girl tries to run?”

  “Try being nice to her, Shepard. She's probably telling the truth.” Houdini was too tired to referee between the two of them. “And if she knows anything, she knows more about them than we do so we need her alive and happy.”

  Chapter Eleven.

  Susan didn't know what day it was or how many days it had been since Jane had died. She didn't know if it was day or night, but she knew that her container had been moved. The food and water deliveries had stopped after that. She'd managed to hoard her water, but it had been several days since she'd had actual food, or at least she thought that it had.

  When the door finally opened, Rick stood there. He had a bag in his hand, she could smell the food in it. A burger and fries. Her mouth watered, her stomach clenched tightly with the need to eat. “You're going to eat and then someone will be in to take you to get cleaned up, fresh clothes and all that.”

  “Why?”

  “Would you prefer to stay dirty and hungry?” He tossed the bag at her. “Eat.”

  Susan wanted to ignore the food but there was no way that she could. So she tore into the bag, shoved a handful of fries into her mouth and reached for the burger. It wasn't just a burger, it was a double patties with bacon and cheese. The first bite was good enough to make her moan.

  Rick chuckled. “I guess this is still your favorite burger.” He held out the drink in his hand to her.

  Susan took the cup, considered tossing it back in his face but she was thirsty. So thirsty and still so hungry even though half of the burger and most of the fries was gone. She needed to slow down, or she was going to be sick, so she sipped the soda. “Thank you.” It actually made her stomach turn, and nearly send the food hurling back up, to say anything kind to him.

  “You're welcome. Finish your food, someone will come in when you're done and take you to get cleaned up. You won't be returning here.”

  “Wait, what?” She forgot about the food, looked up at him. “Is this like my last meal?”

  “It will not be your last meal if you behave,” he met her eyes. “If you resist or cause any problems, I will tell Michael he can do what he'd like with you.” And then he was gone, and so was the appeal of the food. Michael was the figure that haunted her dreams, when she managed to sleep, more even than Rick, because she'd had a front row seat to what he was capable of.

  Two women came for her a little while later, a bag was placed over her head so that she couldn't see where she was, and when it was taken off she was in a rather generic-looking bathroom. The younger of the women handed her a bundle of clothes. “You've got twenty minutes. Make them count.”

  “Do you know where my things are?” The clothes that she'd been taken in, her necklace and earrings had been gone when she first opened her eyes in the container.

  “Gone. If you're smart you'll forget about them.” The older woman told her. “If you're smart, you'll consider how lucky you are to still be breathing, filthy animal.”

  “Mother,” the younger woman hissed, her cheeks red. “We are to treat her with respect.”

  Susan winced as the mother struck her daughter hard across the face. “Respect me.” She warned. “You have twenty minutes. Be done and dressed by then.”

  Susan stripped off what she was wearing, clothes now so strained that she couldn't even tell what color the shirt had been. She turned the water on hot, too hot, but it felt better than she could ever describe. She scrubbed, washed her hair twice and used the entire bottle of conditioner before taking advantage of the razor that had been left out for her. It was only when she was done shaving and lathering her body for a third time that she realized she'd probably dulled the only possible weapon she would be able to find. Her mind wasn't right. It seemed that each time she got used to her circumstances they changed and knocked her through a loop.

  Maybe there was something in the food, something that was keeping her slow and docile. This wasn't like her. She was a fighter, or at least she liked to think that she was. And she hadn't tried to escape once or to attack Rick when she got her chance.

  “Twenty minutes are up.” The mother from earlier banged the bathroom door open. “Get your bony ass out of there and into those clothes. Two minutes.”

  Reluctantly Susan got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and looked at the clothes. They were her size and things she'd have likely picked out for herself. Rick certainly had a great recall of the little details. She wrapped a towel around her wet hair and pulled on the clothes.

  The daughter was the one to come in two minutes later. “Oh, those fit you real good. Come on now, I'll get your hair sorted for you.”

  “My hair?”

  “Can't send you out with a wet head, you'll catch a cold. Such a pretty head of hair too, I can't wait to get my hands on it. It's what I do, though most of my customers just want a wash and set.” She lowered her voice. “I work at Mother's shop, she's pretty set in her ways.”

  “What's your name?” Susan questioned
, trying to distract the woman so she could slip the razor into her pocket.

  “Oh, I can't tell you that. We're supposed to be respectful, not stupid.” The woman's smile faded. “Come on now, I haven't got all damn day.”

  Susan followed her into the generic hotel room, stopped short as she saw the scissors and combs set up on the small desk. “What do you need scissors for?”

  “Sit down and shut your mouth.” The mother ordered. “I've got permission to call Michael if you get out of hand,” she grinned. “I figure he's got a lot of different ways to make you pay. Now, sit.”

  Susan was more convinced than ever that she was being drugged as she sat down.

  <#<#<#

  Her hadn't been this short in years, a sleek bob that ended just below her chin. Susan felt colder now, without the curtain of hair down her back, though she shouldn't have been cold because she wasn't back in the container. No, Rick had told the truth about new accommodations. She was in a room, a very small room, but there was enough room for a twin sized bed and several additional feet to pace back and forth if she wanted to.

  She didn't want to, instead she sat down on the bed and tried to make sense of everything. It was impossible to keep her hands off of her hair and made no sense that tears were welling in her eyes because of hair. Hair that could be grown back. She'd managed to stay strong, not cry at every little thing, and now here she was ready to weep over her hair. Maybe it wasn't just the hair, maybe it was the sum of everything that had happened.

  Susan was tired. Tired of hurting, tired of waiting and tired of wondering. It was the waiting and wondering that were the worse. The never knowing what was going to happen was going to drive her insane. Every day it got harder to remember anything before this, memories were turning fuzzy and as hard as she tried, she couldn't stop it. They had to be drugging her. It was either the food or the water, or both, or they could be alternating. The only alternative was not to eat, and she wasn't keen on starving to death. She'd be too weak to do anything to help herself, but if she kept taking the drugs she might not be able to do anything anyway.

  There was something about feeling so powerless that made her simply want to give up. Her best hope to defend herself was an almost-dull, cheap pink razor. It wouldn't even put a scratch on someone. Her head got louder and louder, the thoughts coming so quickly and frantically that Susan was sure she was having a mental break. But it was more of an emotional break; she began to cry and simply couldn't stop.

  <#<#<#

  It had been ten days since she was moved; it was easy to keep track now. The room had a tiny window, mostly blacked out, but there were enough chips to let the sun light in. The woman who cut her hair brought her in food two times a day and water in sealed bottles.

  She'd been taken to shower twice, given more clothes and a pair of actual sneakers. Rick hadn't been seen. Michael hadn't been seen. The woman who brought the food didn't speak to her. Susan was starting to forget the sound of her own voice, so she started to talk out loud, not caring if anyone was listening.

  This must have been what going mad felt like.

  Susan stretched out on the bed, stared up at the window and watched the streams of sunlight enter the room. She wanted to know what the night sky looked like, to know what position the moon was in because the odds that she'd make it through another new moon were slim. The only thing that made sense was that Rick was trying to build up her strength before the next hunt. He'd want her to give him a run for his money. Stalking prey was his favorite part of hunting, he'd told her that on several occasions.

  When the door opened, she jumped into a sitting position. “You're looking quite well, Susan.” Rick stood just inside the door. “Put your sneakers on, there's something that I want to show you.”

  “You're going to take me out of the room without something over my head?”

  “Yes.” He said simply. “I'd advise that you hurry before I change my mind. The rules haven't changed, if you behave yourself then everything will be just fine. If you try to run or cause any sort of problem, you will be sorry.”

  Susan nodded. She understood that he was telling the truth. As she moved towards him he took her by the arm, his grip tight as he pulled her down the hall, down some stairs and outside of the house to a grass covered back yard where there were at least a dozen people standing around something in the yard.

  It took them getting closer to see that it was a person, more specifically a woman. An image of Jane flashed through Susan's mind but it wasn't Jane. This woman had long dark hair. “Everyone back!” Rick called out. When the crowd cleared completely, she realized that it was Caro. Susan's stomach lunged, the food she'd eaten earlier nearly came back up, but somehow she managed to maintain as Rick left her side, after a stern look, and walked over to pull the woman up by the hair. “This morning, our darling Caro here had a plane ticket booked for sunny Puerto Rico. Vacations are good, they're nice, and we all need to get away sometime, right?”

  Susan moderated her breathing with effort. Something told her that Caro's trip wasn't a vacation at all, and that Rick was about to make an example of her because of it. Suddenly she felt wise for not disobeying his orders to behave or get hurt. She didn't look away even as Rick literally tore a handful of hair from Caro's head.

  The woman screamed, long and shrill, starting to sob as Rick grabbed another handful of hair. “The thing is, Caro wasn't going on vacation. Her ticket had no return date. She was running away from us and what we've built here. Now, you all know that you're free to come and go. You're welcome to leave. Caro, however, knew that she wasn't. Isn't that right, Caro?”

  “Fuck you.” The woman replied.

  “Fuck me? No, fuck you!” Rick threw her down to the ground, began to kick her repeatedly in the stomach and sides. Caro struggled at first, tried to protect herself with her arms, but then she just lay limp. “You belong to us, Animal. You lived because you were useful. Now, you have no use.”

  The crowd was riled up now, encouraging Rick in his systematic beating of the woman on the ground. He used only his feet, Susan could see she was bleeding in several places and that there was blood foaming out of her mouth. Rick continued to kick until there was nothing left but a bloody mass. Finally he stopped, looked down at his boots with disgust. “Someone clean shit up.”

  People moved forward to do his bidding, but Susan stood frozen, eyes locked on Caro. Even though it had been obvious for a while, it felt like she was just realizing the stark truth that she was going to die. Like Caro. Like Jane. She was going die alone, scared and screaming, no matter what she did.

  Was it better to wait for death? To postpone the inevitable or should she make one grand last stand and at least try to get away? She'd never have another opportunity like this, she was pretty sure of that. The crowd was still celebrating Caro's death, laughing and singing some song that she'd never heard before and Rick was smiling and being patted on the back as if he'd done something heroic.

  There was a wide open space before the trees; it reminded her of The Old Man's backyard, but the terrain was different. She took a step back, surveyed the scene, and before she could decide what she was going to do, she was doing it. Susan walked as quickly as she could without drawing attention towards the trees. As the song they were singing changed to something else she passed Rick and the crowd around him. She was almost sure that her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest, but she let that fear mingle with the adrenaline which was making her hands shake.

  No one was paying any attention to her, the tree line was right there, and if she could get to cover, she could change. Rushing through the woods as a bear was still risky, obviously she wouldn't have stealth on her side. If she was at her peak strength, full of energy and well rested, she might have managed to shift to something unfamiliar like a deer but she wasn't. Still, she could cover a lot more ground as in her bear than on human feet.

  Suddenly Susan was sure that she would make it, that this was the chance
she'd been holding back for and she began to run. She ran with all that she had in her, every ounce of hope poured into the speed, and once she hit the woods, she tried for stealth and enough distance to change without them coming upon her. It was impossible to move silently; the ground was covered with fallen leaves and branches, and she could hear people coming after her. She could hear Rick.

  A downed tree almost took her out. Susan stumbled but managed to right herself before she tumbled down an incline. It was slow going down the hill; she knew that they were getting closer. Rick was getting closer. She could smell him now, the scent that was just him. After the incline, there was a small clearing. Susan hit it at a run, not being keen on the idea of being out in the open.

  She heard the whirr of something in the air the second before she was struck in the lower back. Susan cried out, unable to keep on her feet. There was a second impact to her shoulder. She hit the ground face down and knew that it had to be Rick behind her.

  “You stupid fucking bitch,” he was breathing hard; at least she'd made him work for it. His foot connected with her side. Pain spiraled through her, but Susan swallowed down the cry because she'd seen the look on his face when he'd kicked Caro to death. He'd enjoyed every whimper and moan. “I was going to keep things nice for you. I wanted you to be comfortable your last days. Just remember, you did this. This is all on you.”

  Susan fought back as best she could when he wrestled her arms behind her back and bound them with zip ties. Her feet received the same treatment. Rick delivered several more kicks, all to sensitive areas like her kidneys and ribs. The pain was enough to make breathing hard, the position she was in made it more.

  Footsteps approached. “Need a hand?” Michael's voice was distinctive enough to make Susan's stomach clench hard. Fear flooded her.

  “Take her to the barn, to the cages. Make sure that she's kept quiet.”

  “Any way I want?” Michael sounded delighted at the prospect.