Definitely Not Kansas (Nocturnia Book 1)

by Thomas Monteleone

  Then they passed a butcher shop and she saw a cut of meat, some sort of roast that looked too much like something else. Against her will she stopped and stared.

  “Tell me that isn’t…”

  “Don’t look at it,” Dillon said. He looked genuinely upset.

  Ryan, on the other hand, looked a little green. “It looks like a thigh – a human thigh!”

  Cal grabbed him by the shoulder and moved him on. “That’s exactly what it is. And the last thing you want to do is make a scene about it.”

  Emma saw Ryan’s throat working and was afraid he might blow breakfast – talk about making a scene – but he managed to keep it down.

  Cal kept his voice low. “That’s something you’re going to have to get used to: We’re food here. And something else you absolutely must pay attention to is the phase of the moon. Never, ever get caught outside when it’s full.”

  “Telly told us,” Emma said.

  “Your older brother? I didn’t meet him. So you know that the lycans trans and some run wild. I’ve watched from a window and it’s… it’s beyond description.”

  Now it seemed Dillon’s turn to go pale, like he was going to lose it.

  Emma glanced around at the other pedestrians, at the shops and sidewalks. This could be Kansas. Except for the hair on their palms, which most of the time you didn’t see, and the cuts of meat in their butcher shops, they looked like everyday middle-class humans just going about their daily business.

  So. Totally. Weird.

  “Where do they get the humans?” Ryan said.

  “Breed them,” Cal said.

  Emma remembered the people being bled at the candy factory – the ones Dillon had called sheeple. “I’ve seen some of those.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” Dillon said.

  Cal stared at him. “You’ve lived here all your life. You should be used to it.”

  “I live among humans on a work farm. I belong to Master Simon. He doesn’t let us out. You live among lycans. I guess you’re used to having your flesh considered a delicacy.”

  Cal continued to stare. “How did you wind up on Armagost Farm?”

  “I’m told my parents met on a farm. They had me. I don’t remember them because I was taken from them and raised in a group home. When I was old enough to work, I was sold off to Master Simon.”

  Emma shook her head. She’d heard the story before, but still it touched her. Ripped from your parents and sold to a work farm… how awful that must have been.

  “Well,” Cal said, shifting his gaze to each of them, one at a time. “If you’re going to be here a while, you might think of trying to find some kind of job. The city’s filled with factories and warehouses; the foundries and mills on the outskirts always need laborers. And, frankly, the group needs a constant flow of money – not a lot, but steady and reliable.”

  “For food and the like?” Emma said.

  Cal nodded. “Plus working among larger groups makes it easier to become part of the scenery.”

  “Hide in plain sight,” Dillon said. He seemed to have regained his bearings.

  “Sounds a lot like the ‘jobs’ we ran away from,” said Ryan.

  “Yeah, but we won’t be slaves.” Dillon smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to start looking for work as soon as possible.”

  Ryan looked at Cal. “Any ideas?”

  Emma watched his face as he considered the question. “There’s a couple of shipyards down past the inner harbor. They always need help, and they don’t ask too many questions about who you are or where you’ve come from.”

  “Do they hire…kids?” said Emma.

  Cal shrugged. “Child labor is cheaper.”

  Dillon looked at Emma’s little brother. “C’mon, you want to give it a shot?”

  Ryan grinned. “Sure, why not? I need something to take my mind off things. Nothing like scraping barnacles off a hull to do the trick.”

  Emma had to laugh.

  “What?” Ryan said.

  “You’ve never even seen a barnacle!”

  After digesting a full serving of directions and instructions from Cal, the pair headed south toward the waterfront. Emma watched them go, then turned toward Cal to find him looking at her.

  “We should probably start heading back to the house. Think you remember the way?

  She shook her head. “Not yet. All these streets of rowhouses… they all look the same.”

  “Follow me, then.” For a while they walked in silence, and then he hit her with an odd question: “What’s going on with Dillon?”

  At first, Emma didn’t understand what he meant. Had Cal noticed that Dillon seemed to like her, that he wanted to maybe be, like, a boyfriend?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure, but didn’t you think it a little weird that he didn’t sit at the table with us this morning? Has he ever done that before?”

  “No, not really.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  Emma looked at him. He had a determined look in his eyes. “Dillon? Well, not that long. I mean, we met only a few days ago, but he’s always gone out of his way to be nice to me. He seems kind. Helpful.”

  Cal seemed to consider this as they walked along, but said nothing.

  “Do you think he might have been jealous?” said Emma.

  He laughed. “Jealous? Of what?”

  Emma slowed her pace, looked into the boy’s liquid blue eyes. “Well… of you, of course.”

  Cal smiled. “That’s an interesting possibility, but no, Emma… that wasn’t jealously I saw in his face. It was something more like fear.”

  “But why? What was there to be afraid of at breakfast?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said. “But I have some ideas…”

  41

  Ryan and Dillon returned about an hour before nightfall, entering the alley that ran the length of the city block of rowhomes, then passing through the gate into the high-fenced backyard.

  Ryan was relieved they’d found it. For a while he’d thought they were lost, but Dillon had an excellent sense of direction, and a good memory for all the turns they’d taken.

  As they approached the rear door, it opened without warning to reveal Cal filling the threshold with his tall, wiry presence.

  “Where were you two? We were all starting to get worried!”

  Ryan shrugged. “We were doing like you said – looking for jobs. But it was harder than you think.”

  “Yeah,” said Dillon. “Nobody wanted us.”

  Ryan saw Emma enter the backroom with Ambrose, who gestured everyone to follow him into the kitchen.

  “Regardless,” the old man said, “you should have noticed it was getting toward evening. You boys don’t know your way around this city yet. “

  Dillon turned away from Ambrose to face Cal. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re so worried. I mean, you were the one who told us to go down to the shipyards.”

  “I didn’t tell you to roam around until it got dark. Have you forgotten where you are?”

  “You mean Balmore?”

  “No, listen to me, you knuckleheads. Even though you were slaves out on that farm, you were protected. That’s not the case here. You’re walking around in a city full of wolves! Don’t ever forget that – just because they look like regular people, they’re capable of ripping out your throat.”

  Cal shifted his glare from one to the other, lingering for a longer moment on Dillon, who seemed to shrink back just a little.

  Ryan was letting the words sink in and he flashed back to that moment when they saw the naked man running through the woods. He found it hard to believe most of the people he’d seen walking the streets today were capable of that horror.

  But it was true.

  “Sorry,” Ryan said.

  Ambrose harrumphed. “Apologies usually mean nothing. They merely lay the foundation for a future offense.”

  “Okay, okay.” Ryan put his hands
up in mock surrender. He didn’t want them to think he was a wise guy, but he couldn’t help himself. “We get it. We’ll be more careful.”

  “He’s serious,” said Emma, putting her hands on her hips just like their mother always did. Just seeing the familiar pose made him think for an instant about the harsh truths that had brought him to this point.

  “All right, then,” said Cal. “You must be hungry from all that walking. Let’s get started on something for dinner.”

  “That sounds good to me,” said Ryan, who went to the sink to wash his hands. “I’m starving!”

  As Emma began to put out the place settings, Dillon walked slowly past the table.

  “I think I’m going to go lay down for a while. I’m more exhausted than hungry.”

  Ryan looked at him, surprised. “You’re kidding. Really?”

  Dillon nodded and headed for the stairs. No one spoke until he reached top of the landing and heard the sound of the bedroom door closing.

  “He’s acting a bit odd,” said Cal in a voice just barely above a whisper.

  Ambrose glanced up the stairs and then held a finger to his lips. “Be careful. He may hear you.”

  Cal shrugged. “I’m not sure I care much about that. If he’s innocent, he won’t be concerned. If he is guilty, he’ll have some decisions to make.”

  Ryan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hey, what’re you talking about? Guilty? Of what?”

  Instead of answering him, Cal walked to the table where Emma had just finished arranging the dinner plates and the silverware. Ryan watched as the boy picked up a fairly ornate fork; some of the finer lines of its design showed the black marks of tarnish.

  “Silver,” said Cal in a low voice. “We always use silver as a way to determine who we have at our table.”

  Silver. Like silver bullets…

  Ryan said, “You mean, like, lycans can’t…”

  Ambose and Cal nodded.

  He guessed the old legends weren’t just legends after all.

  No one spoke for a moment, then Ambrose broke the silence. “That boy upstairs has, on two occasions, avoided our table. I can think of only one reason.”

  Ryan wasn’t buying this. No way. Dillon had been a good friend since they’d met. He’d been protective and helpful… and Amelia had seemed to trust him completely.

  “No,” said Emma, her voice rising as she continued to speak. “That can’t be possible! Dillon is a slave like us. They don’t make lycans slaves – just humans. Like us!”

  “She’s right,” Ryan said. “I mean, think about it. Why would a lycan live on a work farm and put up with that abuse if he didn’t have to? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Cal’s expression was grave. “Unless his purpose was to be brought to the human underground along with any escapees and report their location back to the authorities.”

  Ambrose looked toward the stairs. “We’ve survived as long as we have because we’ve been cautious. And so shall we remain.”

  “No way,” said Ryan. He stood in the center of the kitchen surrounded by the rest of them. “Anybody but Dillon. He wouldn’t do that. And I’ll prove it. I’ll go up and–”

  Suddenly the whole house began to vibrate. Barely perceptible at first, but ever rising in power and intensity.

  “What’s that?” cried Emma.

  Then a full-fledged tremor rolled beneath the foundation, rattling the plumbing and causing the plates to dance across the table. Glassware tinkled.

  Ambrose turned in a slow circle looking confused. “I… I don’t know.” He moved to the nearest window and peered out into the gathering twilight.

  “It felt like an earthquake!” Ryan moved to his sister’s side, grabbed her hand without even thinking about it.

  Even as they spoke, the subtle side-slip of the floor beneath them faded away. Footsteps sounded on the staircase and everyone turned to see Dillon quickly descending.

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” he cried. “We’ve got to get to high ground! Now!”

  As if emerging from a trance, Ambrose turned from the window, an expression of shock on his face. “He’s right! It’s the Silent Ones!”

  42

  Ryan knew what they were talking about. He’d seen the newscast at the compound and he knew the devastation that followed an attack of the Silent Ones.

  “Dillon’s right,” he said. “We’ve got to get away from the waterfront!”

  Emma grabbed Ryan’s sleeve. “What’s this all about? What’s going to happen?”

  “Everybody’s going to be wiped out,” said Ambrose. “Every living thing.”

  “Us too?”

  “Yes, Emma,” said Dillon. “Unless we get moving – now!”

  He grabbed her hand and headed for the back door.

  “Go!” yelled Cal, following.

  Ambrose ushered Ryan out of the backroom and brought up the rear of the column of human refugees running through the backyard to the alley. In the dim twilight, Ryan could see Dillon helping his sister along and the thought flashed through him that no werewolf would do that.

  And then everything rocked and tilted beneath their feet as an explosive BOOM! shook the neighborhood – so violent that Ryan fell to his knees. As he regained his feet, he glanced back at Ambrose who’d been shaken off the concrete steps and driven to the earth. Cal was standing over him, trying to help the older man up, but he was too heavy.

  Running back to help, Emma cried, “Ryan! Hurry!”

  “Get out of here!” he yelled. “I’ll catch up!”

  He watched Emma pause before deciding to exit through the back gate.

  “Keep her safe, Dillon!” he shouted.

  Dillon waved as they started up the alley. “Count on it!”

  Ryan turned to help Cal raise Ambrose to his knees, and finally to a wobbly upright position. Overhead, the twilight was rapidly turning to night – and the coming darkness seemed more ominous than Ryan ever could have imagined.

  “You okay?” he said to Ambrose.

  “Thank you, young man. Yes. I think so.” He patted Ryan on his back. “Thank you very much.”

  “Come on,” said Cal. “We’re running out of time!”

  43

  The echo of the boom still throbbed in Emma’s ears as they moved up the long, gradual incline of Calvern Street. She and Dillon had been running full-tilt and had kept just ahead of a large knot of people filling the sidewalks and the streets around the bottled-up traffic. The hiss of steam boilers and honking horns blended with the rising cries of the lycans trying to outrace the black cloud rolling in from the sea.

  But then a new sound came to them – a collective scream of terror that gathered like a howling storm. It rose from the bottom of the hill where the Silent Ones had launched their attack, sounding like a hurricane wind scaling the octaves of the agonies of hell itself

  Dillon still held her hand in a firm grip as he ran, and Emma was surprised a boy of his size could be so strong. But she tugged against him.

  “Wait! Ryan’s back down there! We’ve got to go back!”

  Dillon gave his head an emphatic shake. “Are you crazy? We can’t go back! We’ll be eaten alive!”

  With a powerful surge and a stride up the hill, he almost yanked her off her feet and she had to run as fast as she could to keep from stumbling. Below them, father down the hill, the screaming had grown louder, more intense, as the invading black fog absorbed ever more of the city’s inhabitants.

  Emma could feel the horror all around them as they ran, and she couldn’t bear the thought of Ryan down there, caught in the crowds that were being overwhelmed. Breaking free of Dillon’s grip, she skidded to a stop.

  “We’ve got to go back – he’s my brother! I can’t leave him there! I’m sorry, but–”

  “No, Emma – I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  Farther down the hill, the sounds of chaos rose like the chants of an infernal choir. Screaming, baying, and now came a horrible chittering lik
e a million cicadas in concert.

  “What do you mean?” said Emma as she felt her stomach collapsing.

  Dillon’s eyes began to burn with an eerie yellowish light. He suddenly stiffened, arched his back, as if struck from behind. Then he craned his head upward and emitted a cry that was more animal than human.

  Without thinking, Emma backed away from him, but his hand lashed out to grab her arm.

  She tried to break his grip and that was when she saw that it was no longer a boy’s hand but the hairy paw, claws extended. Dillon’s face had flushed a deep scarlet just before it transformed. Pointed ears… snout… fangs. In that single instant the boy had been replaced by a tall rangy beast.

  The last thing she remembered before it sprang was a long strand of saliva cascading from its open jaws…

  44

  All three of them started off at a jog, but it was obvious that the old guy was going to slow them down. When they exited the alley and reached a street heading north called Calvern, Ambrose was struggling to keep up.

  Ryan paused, angling his shoulder under the man’s arm. Ambrose was heavy and beginning to limp, which made him feel even heavier. Cal flanked him, lifting his other arm, and together they moved northward like an ungainly six-legged creature. As the street angled uphill away from the water, Ryan noticed other people in the city, mostly lycans, filling up the streets, surging past them in panicked bunches.

  Everyone running, panting, and some crying out. In the distance, Ryan thought he heard animal sounds – howling?

  Another boom thundered about them, the concussion almost knocking them off their feet. The very air that enveloped them seemed to be moving as much as the ground. A thought flashed through Ryan – where was Emma? Was Dillon taking care of her? Ryan shouldn’t have let her out of his sight.

  Knots of terrified lycans ran past them. The two boys labored to continue their uphill movement while carrying the old man who seemed to be getting heavier with every step. He could hear Cal gasping for breath, Ambrose starting to wheeze and gulp his air.