by S.J. Finch
Chapter 14
The warehouse seemed almost empty. None of the lamps were on, and the sunlight that filtered through the upper windows reached the ground floor only in hazy patches. The area was dim and foreboding, but Ryan saw the hulking form of Daniel by the far wall and he headed that way.
The man was shadowboxing in some strange form of martial art. It wasn’t graceful or flowery but to Ryan it looked brutally efficient. Daniel stood on a broad mat, fifteen feet square. Ryan had seen this area the night before, but he hadn’t paid it much attention. He could tell now that it was a large sparring mat made of tightly woven straw, or something close to straw. There were long, thin wooden slats of a darker color that ran the length of the mat to keep the straw in place. Daniel’s feet danced and pivoted on the dojo mat as if he were barely touching it at all.
“You’ve returned.” The man said without breaking stride or even looking at Ryan. “I had my doubts.”
“Where is everyone?” Ryan asked as he tried to track Daniel’s lightning-fast movements.
“I could not say.” Daniel replied. “Though it is my understanding that there is no operation tonight, so some might not return for days. I think the doctor was supposed to be here, but I have not seen him.”
Ryan’s heart sank a bit as he wondered where Evelyn might be, or worse, who she might be with. He watched Daniel for a few moments as the man moved forward and back with deadly precision, striking a hundred invisible opponents attacking from all sides. “Will you teach me that?”
Daniel smiled, but still did not stop. “This is a kata, and I do not think it would do you much good.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is designed to be performed by a human. To teach and enforce skills for humans to use in combat. If you decide to join us in combat, you will not be human. The wolf is a far more formidable foe than any man. You would be foolish not to use it.”
“You’re saying I’d be transformed? Doesn’t that mean I could only help fight on full moons? And how am I supposed to make the wolf fight the bad guys and not you guys?”
Daniel simply smiled. “These are questions better answered by the expert.” He nodded to the far stairs that led to Evelyn’s bedroom. “Upstairs, against this wall, there is a ladder to the roof. Ben is waiting for you.”
The number of questions burning in Ryan’s mind had doubled. He made his way up the stairs then climbed the clanging metal ladder welded to the wall. He pushed open the steel trap door which gave way with a loud screech and he found himself almost blinded by sunlight.
The roof wasn’t much to look at: flat and covered in gravel, only interrupted by the occasional skylight that protruded up from beneath. The view from the roof however, was quite different. Ryan wasn’t more than a few stories above the ground but he felt as if he could see the entire harbor and most of the downtown area that sat on the other side. Sunlight danced upon the ocean which glittered blue-gray and gave a smoky, trembling reflection of the buildings on the shores. The man called Ben, however, was faced the opposite way: away from the ocean and the city and the view, and instead towards the grimy industrial sprawl in which 4197 was located.
He was sitting cross-legged at the other end of the rooftop, but even from here Ryan could see that he was powerfully built. The teenager made his way across the roof, his shoes scraping against the gravel and his curiosity burning. Ben was shirtless and although the weather was pleasant for this time of year, it was hardly tanning season.
The muscles in the man’s back rippled as he breathed in and out, and each breath seemed to go on forever. He was deeply tanned, with the leathery skin of a man who had worked outside for most of his life. He was bald-headed, but as Ryan got closer he saw that the man also wore a short, ivory-white beard. His bushy eyebrows were the same milky color and stood in stark contrast to the brown skin around them. He wore white cotton pants that flapped around his ankles when the breeze picked up, but Ben himself sat completely still.
Ryan had reached the man, but neither had said anything. He saw now that Ben was much older than he looked from afar, perhaps in his mid fifties, but he looked to be in better health than most of the thirty year olds Ryan had seen. The man’s muscles were not the perfectly toned, bulging arms and chest like Daniel’s, in fact the skin hung loosely in some places, but his frame was large nonetheless. Ben looked like the sort of man that had never set foot in a gym, but instead had earned his body through nothing but hard labor.
Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it when he noticed Ben’s closed eyes. He hadn’t moved an inch since Ryan had climbed on to the roof, and Ryan wondered if the man was actually asleep.
He stood there, awkwardly, in silence. Ryan was about to turn on his heel and creep back to the trap door when the man spoke. His voice was powerful, but not demanding. His tone was even and matter-of-fact, which startled Ryan even more when he heard what Ben had to say.
“I want you to give me a reason, just one, single reason why I should not kill you here and now.” He hadn’t opened his eyes, he had not moved a muscle.
Ryan regarded the man for a moment, chewing his lip. “You know, you would make one hell of a guidance counselor…”
Only then did Ryan see the gun laid at the man’s feet. Ryan had been so intent on studying Ben’s face, he hadn’t even noticed the black, no-nonsense semi-automatic that rested on the gravel. Now however, Ryan was taking careful notice of it.
“You are a monster.” Ben replied, ignoring Ryan’s quip. “You are a danger to yourself and especially to those around you. For three nights of every month, you embody Death. You have already killed one man, why should I allow you to kill again? Why should you be allowed to live?”
“Because if I die, the secret banana bread recipe goes with me.” Ryan was beginning to feel agitated. “I’m sorry, I thought you were here to talk to me about being a werewolf.”
“That is what we are talking about. I am asking you for one reason why I should not take this gun and shoot you in the head.”
Ryan thought for a moment. “Because the man I killed, it wasn’t me doing it, I didn’t mean to.”
“But does that change the fact that you did it? Intent or no, you were the cause of a life being ended. Why do you deserve to live on?”
“I don’t have a good answer for that.” Ryan said.
“So I should kill you?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Then it’s pure selfishness? The only reason you feel you deserve to live, despite the things you’ve done and the things you’ll no doubt do in the future, is because you want to live?” Ben asked, still not moving.
“Is that the lesson here?” Ryan challenged. “You’ve come here to teach me that the only way I can redeem myself is if I stop being selfish? You’re trying to get me to join the doc’s little crew? Tell me this: how am I supposed to learn a lesson if it ends with me dead? How can I redeem myself if I’m six feet under?”
“I didn’t say anything about redemption.” Ben replied simply.
Ryan was becoming more and more frustrated. “The murderous Miyagi act is cute, but I’m not going to play along. Just be straight with me. Isn’t that why you’re here? To teach me about being a werewolf?”
Ben did not immediately reply. He took a deep, impossibly long breath.
“No, Ryan. I’m here to kill you.” He said. “I can’t teach you how to be a werewolf, you are a werewolf. What you want is for me to teach you how to be human. You are not a human with a monster inside them, you are a monster who has not yet shed its human sensibilities. You feel the wolf inside your head, even now. I know you do. Robert asked me here to show you the ropes, but that’s not why I came. I came to tell you one thing: you cannot beat this. What Robert and the others are trying to do, to keep themselves and each other from tumbling over the edge, it’s different for you. If they become slaves to their powers, people may get hurt. When you go over the edge…hundreds wil
l die. You will try to fight it, try to stay on the wagon, but when the lunar cycle comes around you will transform and you will kill again, only this time you’ll enjoy it. Once you’ve killed…consciously, deliberately, you’ll never come back.”
“You sound pretty sure about my fate for just having met me.”
“You are not the first young, good-intentioned werewolf I’ve come across. Some lasted longer than others but in the end, each and every one became a willing slave to the wolf, to the lust for carnage and dominance and more power. There is not a doubt in my mind that I will save lives if I end yours here and now.”
Ryan was even angrier now. He had been expecting answers. He had been expecting help with this gigantic problem; he had been banking on this man to lead him back to some semblance of a normal life. What he had gotten however, was this old man who had already decided that Ryan was an irredeemable brute who posed a threat to everyone around him; a man who had decided that Ryan was so far beyond salvation that it was better just to shoot him. Ryan had been expecting an encouraging mentor, and he was severely disappointed.
On top of it all, Ben’s words stung. His complete lack of faith in Ryan was infuriating, but Ryan knew he was right. The young werewolf knew he was dangerous, probably lethal, but he wasn’t ready to die, not yet.
“What can I do? This thing that’s inside me, you’re saying I can’t beat it. Well I want to try. What do I do?”
“You do everything you can to redeem yourself.” Ben replied.
“You just said you weren’t talking about redemption!”
“I’m not saying it’s possible, I’m saying it’s a path. Unless you try to atone for the innocent blood you’ve shed, the bloodlust will overtake you. Unless you do all you can to right the wrongs, soon you’ll forget that what you did was even wrong at all.” Ben said quietly.
“You’re telling me to join up with these people.”
“I’m telling you that if you want to try and stave off the inevitable, you have to set yourself on a path of redemption. You have to control the wolf and use it for good. You have to purify your soul.”
“And you can teach me that? How to use the wolf?”
“I could, but I will not. It is not why I’m here.”
Ryan threw up his hands. “Oh, I get it: you’re just here to threaten to shoot me then leave. Well thanks for making the trip.” Ryan sighed in frustration and took a deep breath. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to slow his heartbeat. When he spoke again, his voice was calm. “Just give me a chance…”
“To what end?” Ben asked. “Either I choose not to help you and the wolf overcomes you soon, or I do help you and the wolf overcomes you later. The ending is always the same. I learned long ago not to waste time trying to rewrite the story.”
Ryan scoffed. He had almost been ready to join these people in their fight, but not if this was how it was going to be. He decided if they were going to just string him along like this, he certainly didn’t want to fight alongside them. In the back of Ryan’s mind however, he knew what Ben was saying made sense: Ryan wanted to make up for what he had done to Frank Spalding, and fighting against the evil in the city might help him combat the evil in his own brain.
The people at 4197 were united under a common goal of keeping themselves and each other on the straight and narrow. What Ryan had done had put him well out of sight of that particular road. Still, he wondered if, with enough effort, he could find his way back along the path of redemption and join the others on the road to wherever it was they were trying to get. Salvation, perhaps. Ryan didn’t know how long it would be before the stain of Spalding’s blood would leave his hands, but in his gut he had always known his best shot was here, with these people. In principle, on paper, this wasn’t his fight. Ryan knew however, he felt it, that if he gave up his best shot at some kind of karmic forgiveness, that was the first step down the wrong fork in this road.
He had come here wanting to be convinced to join up. Now however, it was Ryan having to do the convincing. He wondered if that had been Ben’s plan all along. Or maybe he was just a bitter old man.
“Grayle. He’s after me and my family. Let me at least make sure they are safe, let me finish things with him. If I survive, we can revisit the ‘going darkside’ thing. I’ll pull the trigger myself if I have to.” And this time, Ryan knew he’d have the strength to do it.
At the mention of Grayle’s name, Ben’s slow, rhythmic breathing had faltered. His eyes peeled open and stared straight up into Ryan’s.
They were the same stone gray as the gravel rooftop, but much to Ryan’s surprise, almost kind. Ryan had looked into the eyes of monsters and killers and evil, corrupt men, but Ben was none of those things. He could see now that Ben was not the cold, ruthless killer, but instead his eyes were full of an immense sadness. They spoke of far more tragedies than triumphs in his long life, and it looked as though each one had taken a heavy toll.
“Aaron Grayle?” Ben asked softly.
“You know him?”
“Sit.”
Ryan obeyed and sat down on the rough rooftop next to the creased, worn werewolf.
“Legs crossed, hands on your knees, palms up.”
Ryan did as he was told.
“Close your eyes and think about one thing and one thing only: your breathing. Think about the air that travels into your lungs. What does it look like? Where does it come from? What currents and breezes led this very breath to this very place at this very time? Where will it go once you have exhaled? Think, and breathe. Think about yesterday, about the things you saw, the people you spoke to. Think about them, and then erase them from your mind. Think about the day before, then the day before that. Think, and breathe, and erase. Think about the night you were bitten. Think, breathe, and erase. Think about your last birthday, your last ten birthdays. Think, breathe, and erase. Empty yourself of you.”
Ryan did his best to follow instructions. He had no idea how this was supposed to help him or what Ben knew about Grayle that made him suddenly so compliant, but he focused on the task before him. Thoughts and images and feelings appeared at random in his mind’s eye, but Ryan did his best to banish them from his consciousness as quickly as he could. Slowly, little by little, he felt his mind begin to empty. Thoughts drifted in and out but they were of the present, of the sunshine on his face or the sound of the waves behind him. They floated before his closed eyes like wisps of clouds and dissipated just as quickly. His breathing was slow and steady and his heartbeat was a sluggish, passive thump. For the first time since before the attack, Ryan felt relaxed, almost peaceful.
Then the peace was shattered. His body jolted as if every muscle in him had convulsed at the same time. Ryan collapsed to the ground and, as the spasms tore through him, he felt the alien, unreachable corner of his mind expand and grow and seep into more of his brain. He felt the now-familiar sensation of his stomach and organs beginning to squirm and shift, and he knew the pain would be next.
The pain however, was not what he had been expecting. It came in the form of a sharp crack to his lower jaw that sent his head whipping around. His insides came to a rest, the spasms subsided. Ryan opened his eyes to see Ben standing over him. The man watched him for a few more moments with a clenched jaw, then exhaled and sat back down.
“What the hell was that?” Ryan asked as he righted himself and massaged his jaw.
“The wolf.”
“The wolf punched me in the face?”
“The wolf is what you felt in your mind, in your chest.”
“I know it was in my head, it’s never left my head. But that was me starting the transformation, right?” Ryan demanded. “It’s day. The full moon isn’t for a month!”
“You can feel the beast within you always, but you are its cage. The lock is sprung without your consent on the lunar cycle, but at all other times, you remain in control.”
“What do you call what just happened?!”
“Your consc
ious mind ceded control and gave the monster an opening.”
Ryan was becoming more and more confused. “You’re saying that any time I don’t consciously think about not turning, I might turn?”
“No.” Ben replied. “The mind is an elegant machine, running thousands of calculations and adjustments every second. You have breathed every moment of your life, but how many times have you noticed yourself breathing? When left to its own devices, the mind will maintain control of the body in its charge. That is why you do not change even when you sleep. That is why the wolf remains locked in its cage. However, when you deliberately remove your mind from the equation, the wolf can break the surface. If I had not stopped you, you would have transformed completely. Moonlight…or no.” Ben said.
“Stopped me? You mean punched me in the jaw?” Ryan asked.
“You would have preferred the alternative?”
“So you’re saying that my mind can control the wolf on some level?”
Ben nodded again. “With a practiced enough mind, you can gain control on every level.”
“What do you mean? That I could train myself not to change at all? Doesn’t that mean I could keep the thing buried, even during the full moon?”
The older man’s eyes darkened. “It is nearly impossible. That level of control takes decades of practice, of solitude. It requires levels of concentration and focus that you cannot fathom and will never achieve. Regardless, banishing the beast from within you will not stop Aaron Grayle.”
“What will?”
“Controlling it. It is possible to keep your conscious mind during the transformation, even under the full moon. And since the beast is always with you, it is possible to trigger the transformation at will. This is what Robert and Daniel want from you: they want you to gain control of the wolf and become a nearly-unstoppable soldier in their war.”
“Can I do it?” Ryan asked.
“Yes. With a little practice and great deal of discipline, you can easily gain control over the transformation. What you cannot control is the wolf. It is always in you, and it is always struggling to get out. Most werewolves that live long enough to master the transformation can do it easily, but keeping such close company with the beast leads them over the edge that much faster. You are inviting your own destruction, and you are doing it with open arms. It is a delicate dance with Fate, and you tempt it every time you transform. With Grayle approaching, you have no choice but to try, but if you somehow survive his wrath and this ends, turn from the wolf as you would a disease. Never use it again.”
“How do you know him? Grayle?” Ryan asked after a moment.
Ben didn’t answer directly. “The life expectancy of a werewolf is short. The life Grayle has chosen, the life Robert has chosen for you, few active werewolves live longer than a year or two. Werewolves are notoriously brutal. And they are known for killing all other werewolves who try to encroach on their territory. There are so few because each time a new one is made, one kills the other or they kill each other. To my knowledge, Grayle has been active for perhaps ten years, but in terms of werewolf survival, that is astronomical. Not only has he fought and killed every threat to his territory, he has killed every werewolf he has ever come into contact with. The fact that he is still alive is…significant.”
“Ten years…” Ryan mused. “How long have you been a werewolf?”
“Longer.” Ben said shortly.
“Does Grayle have this control? The things I need to learn?”
“In a way.” The man replied. “Grayle can transform at will, and I believe he maintains some level of conscious thought when he does, but it is not because he is in control. Instead he gives himself over to the animal. He welcomes the savagery and brutality and allows it to course through his veins. It is a very different thing.”
“Does that make him…better? Stronger?” Ryan asked.
“I doubt it, but his experience does. You will fight Grayle, and he will have no more interest in your loved ones, but only because you’ll be dead. I’m sure that Robert or Daniel or Ruby has filled your head with thoughts of glorious battles and fighting the good fight, but you won’t live to see any of them. The life you have been cursed with is brutal and short, and if they’ve told you otherwise, you’ve been lied to.”
A teddy bear, Ruby had called him. Ryan couldn’t help but wonder if she meant some other Ben.
“Again.” The man said. “This time, when the wolf breaks the surface, concentrate. Use your mind to push it back down, force it back into the cage.”
Ryan closed his eyes and focused on his breathing again. His jaw pounded with a dull pain, but he forced the pain from his mind. He repeated the instructions in his mind: think, breathe, and erase.
His mind cleared faster now, but that brought the wolf more swiftly. Ryan wasn’t expecting it to come so soon, and when he felt the savage instincts begin to circle his calmed mind, he wasn’t fully prepared to defeat them. The movement in his torso began again and Ryan panicked, unsure if he should focus on his mind or his body. The squirming intensified and his hands automatically clutched at his sides until he felt another sharp crack, this time on the opposite side of his face.
“Your mind is the battleground, your body is just a symptom. Control the mind and you control the body. Again.”
Ryan shook himself and closed his eyes to begin again. He went far slower this time, terrified that the beast would sneak up on him as it had before. He was afraid of failing a third time and so he stalled. Ryan tried to clear his mind, but he did so slowly. He didn’t want to try again, he didn’t want the wolf to come back. It was too strong, too relentless. Ryan knew he couldn’t control it.
A car horn honked on a distant street and snapped Ryan out of his meditation. It was an interruption that was all too welcome. When he opened his eyes however, Ryan discovered that he was the only one on the rooftop. Ben had disappeared without a word, without a sound, and had left Ryan very much alone. He didn’t know where the man had gone, but something told him Ben wouldn’t be back. The black pistol lay where he left it, glinting dully in the falling sunlight: a reminder, perhaps, of what Ben believed was Ryan’s fate.
Ryan stared at the gun for a long time. Ben was certain that Ryan would inevitably turn evil, but Ryan couldn’t help but wonder: what the hell did Ben know about him? It was Ryan’s life and he didn’t care how high the deck was stacked. If he wanted to defeat Grayle, that’s what he was going to do. If he wanted to live, dammit he was going to live. Ryan had never believed in destiny and he wasn’t about to start just because his was supposed to be crappy. He’d conquer the wolf, then he’d kill Grayle, then he’d run with Dr. Webster and the rest and take back the city and fight the good fight until his debt was paid. As far as Ryan was concerned, destiny could go to hell.
He snatched up the gun and set across the rooftop at a sprint. Ryan heaved his arm back and brought it forward with all the might he could muster. The pistol flew spinning into the air and sailed over the gravel and the pavement and the grass and the docks. It landed in the gray waters of the harbor with a splash.
Ryan took a deep, satisfying breath and returned to his spot at the other end of the roof. He sat down again: legs crossed, palms up. He grit his teeth and attacked the corners of his cluttered mind. He slowed his breathing and began to erase.