Werewolves of the Other London

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Werewolves of the Other London Page 21

by Amy Cross


  "Okay, okay!" I say, interrupting him. "You don't have to be such an ass about it. But serious, Edinburgh... That's miles away!"

  "About sixty miles," he says. "We can do it in a day if we run."

  He wants to run sixty miles? Damn it, I'm not sure if I can keep up with him anymore. It's crazy, this life we're leading, just walking from one place to another, with no place to call home, no place to rest. I try to understand his logic, but it doesn't make any sense. "You said we have to get to the estate," I say. "You said we've got no time to waste."

  "We're not going to waste any time," he says. "We're going to find out what's really going on in Edinburgh. We're going to stop this stupid propaganda machine, and we're going to prove that it's not a werewolf that's killing people. Then we're going to the estate, to find the other werewolves. And then we'll work out what to do next." He pauses, staring at me. "At least, that's what I'm doing. I can't make you come with me."

  I open my mouth to reply, but... What choice do I have? Of course I'm going to go with him. I'm relying on him, and he knows that. I hate this. I've never been totally dependent upon someone else like this before. "I'm coming," I say. I look along the motorway. "Which way is it?"

  He laughs. "Call yourself a werewolf?" he says. "Can't you tell which way it is? Can't you feel it?"

  All I feel is the regular wind that's whipped up by passing cars.

  "You'll learn," he says, almost sneering. "You'll have to, if you ever want to really call yourself a werewolf." He turns and shifts into his wolf form, and before I can react he's running off, away from the road.

  For a moment, I consider not following him. I could go my own way. I could make my own life. But... Damn it, I really don't have a choice. I shift into my wolf form and set off after him, but he's running faster than usual and it's all I can do to just keep up. I don't know if I like this new Duncan, this angry Duncan. I just hope it's not a permanent change. But he's angry, and he's scared. He thinks the humans are waging a war against werewolves, and he thinks his whole species is on the brink of extinction. I guess I can understand why he's worried, why he's scared. I would be too. And -

  Suddenly I remember.

  It's not just his species. It's my species too. I'm a werewolf. But there's a part of me that keeps forgetting that, a part of me that still feels human. And I guess that's why I feel slightly separated from Duncan. He's a werewolf, with no humanity in him at all. But me? I still feel like a human, and I'm not sure that'll ever change. In which case, why am I following Duncan to the Scottish estate?

  Darla

  This little old church is perfect.

  On the edge of town, it looks almost abandoned. But it's not abandoned. Not at all. The priest here is an old man, and he has few parishioners. Every day he leaves the big wooden door unlocked, in case anyone wants to come in to pray, and every day the place remains empty. Perhaps everyone goes to other churches in the area, or perhaps no-one around here feels the need to speak to God anymore. Whatever. It doesn't matter. The important thing is that this little old church is quiet and peaceful.

  Pushing the door open with my nose, I slip inside. It's cold and bare, not exactly welcoming. The old stone walls are bare, and this clearly isn't a rich parish. I walk down the aisle, sniffing the wooden pews. I can tell from the scents that very few people come here, even on Sundays. If this church were a business, it would have closed down long ago through lack of custom. Faith, or a refusal to accept the truth, keeps it open for now. The old priest won't let it die. But when he dies, this place will surely be quietly shut up and forgotten.

  Reaching the altar, I lift my head and sniff the air. Dust. This place is so wretched, they can't even afford a cleaner. It's funny, I've always associated the church with money, with power, but here everything seems so barren and dead. What must it be like for a human to come here to pray, to seek solace and comfort, and yet to walk into such a miserable, forsaken place. I can't believe that this church could ever inspire faith in anyone.

  Footsteps!

  I turn and see a shadow on a distant wall. Rushing behind the altar, I wait. The footsteps are slow, but they're coming closer. It must be the old priest. After a moment's hesitation, I step out from behind the altar, letting him see me. He stops and stares. With an almost bald head, and large bags under his eyes, he looks tired. Tired of the priesthood. Tired of God. Tired of life. I'd be doing him a favor if I killed him.

  "Hello," he says, his voice sounding weak. "Well you're a fine-looking creature." He seems a little nervous, and it's very conspicuous that he doesn't come any closer to me. "Are you the wolf everyone's been talking about?"

  I take a few steps along the aisle, walking toward him, but he takes a pace back. He's clearly scared, clearly getting ready to run. This man of the cloth, this man of God, believes that he could be attacked and killed in his own church. Doesn't he trust God? Doesn't he have faith that God will save him, that God will use his powers to ensure that there is justice in the world? Does this priest believe that the world is unfair?

  "You wait here," he says. "You just wait right here."

  I can't allow him to leave. I have to show him the error of his ways, the mistakes in his judgment. So I do something I swore I'd never do again.

  I shift into my human form. I become vermin again.

  Right there.

  Right in front of him.

  His eyes open wide and his jaws drops.

  "Hello, father," I say. The sound of my own voice is weird. I haven't heard it for so long, it's almost as if it's someone else speaking. Standing on two legs is so... unfamiliar. I can't believe I used to spend so much of my time like this.

  "My child..." the priest says. "I... I... I..."

  "It's okay," I say. I step toward him, and this time he doesn't move away. "It's okay, I just came to..." I glance around the empty room. "I don't know why I came. I think I wanted..."

  "Are you the one?" the priest says. "The one who has been terrorizing people? The one who stole that baby? Where is the child? You must return him immediately." He seems angry, as if he thinks he can tell me off, as if I'm a child.

  "I'm the one," I say. "I've killed many people recently. Even some that no-one has found yet. Bums, drunks who nobody missed. And the child, yes. That was me."

  The priest takes a deep breath. "Is the child still alive?"

  "Of course he is," I say with contempt. "What do you think I am, some kind of monster?"

  "No," the priest says quickly. "But... I... What are you?"

  "I'm a werewolf," I say. "There. I said it. I'm a werewolf. I'm an angry werewolf. How does that fit in with your beliefs, huh? Are there werewolves in the Bible?" I smile. I have total control over this little man. His mind is shot to pieces. "You men of God know nothing of the world," I continue. "The cruelty that is perpetrated every day by you humans, against... against my people. If only you knew, if only you could comprehend one per cent of the horror that happens outside this church every single day."

  "You're right," he says. "I don't know... I don't know anything about this. But you must not kill people, and you must return the child. Do you understand? What you have been doing is wrong. It's inhumane."

  "I'm not human," I say. "So by definition, I'm inhumane. But I'm not cruel, and I don't kill children. So that's one of the main ways that I'm not like you filthy creatures."

  "The child..." he stammers.

  "I'll return the child," I say. "Just as soon as the humans return all the werewolf children they killed at Old Avalon." I smile. "What, you don't know about that? The massacre of the werewolf children isn't in your history books? How fucking convenient." I can feel the anger boiling inside me, bubbling up. "I guess that's the only way you pathetic creatures can sleep at night. If you knew what your species had done all those years ago, how your soldiers came and killed the children, cutting off their heads and grinding up their bodies and burying them in hallowed ground... If you knew all that, if you'd seen it, would you ever be
able to sleep again?"

  The priest stares at me in shock. "I don't believe -"

  "What?" I snap back at him. "That humans would do something so cruel?"

  "Absolutely not," the priest says.

  "Then you're a fool," I say. "Because it happened, and it was... It was unnecessary and cruel and... At least when humans kill other humans, it's remembered. The Holocaust. The terrorism in New York and London. The deaths of thousands of soldiers and civilians in Afghanistan and Iraq. Those deaths are remembered. But when humans kill werewolves, it's covered up, it's kept out of the history books. It's a dirty little secret that you think you can keep forever."

  "You cannot blame all of humanity for the actions of a few," the priest says, stuttering slightly. "You cannot blame all of humanity for the sins of a few men."

  "No," I say, trying to remain calm. "But I can blame all of humanity for allowing these things to be ignored. Forgotten. Hidden. If you're going to kill so many werewolf children, at least have the courage to admit it. At least record it in your history books. At least know what you are when you look at yourselves in the mirror."

  I take a few more steps toward the priest. I'm close now, just a few feet away from him.

  "What do you want from me?" he says.

  "I want you to prove your faith," I say.

  He stares at me.

  "If your faith in God is real. If it endures. If it is truly part of you. If all of this is true, I cannot hurt you. I cannot kill you. But if your faith is false, I can and I will rip you apart. Do you understand?"

  I can see he's getting ready to turn and run.

  "Prove yourself," I say. "Prove you're a man of faith. Prove you're a human worth saving."

  The priest closes his eyes. "Dear Lord -"

  "Not words!" I shout.

  He opens his eyes, shocked.

  "Not stupid actions!" I continue. I step forward and grab him by the collar, pulling him toward me. "Real faith. Deep inside. Real, true faith in God. Show me that faith, just for one moment, and I'll spare your miserable life!"

  Jess

  As we approach Edinburgh, I spot that old familiar castle high on the hill, lit up against the night sky. I've been here before, when I was much younger, when my family came here for a day while we were on a caravan holiday in Scotland. We walked about the winding streets, going in and out of little shops, just exploring and having fun. Well, they were exploring and having fun. I was just kind of tagging along. Even at the age of eight or nine, I was aware that I didn't fit in. These people who were supposed to be my family, they seemed like stranger, like imposters. If it wasn't for the fact that my father and I look so similar and have such similar personality traits, I'd be convinced I was adopted.

  The streets of Edinburgh are surprisingly quiet tonight, though there's plenty of noise coming from the pubs. As we walk along Cowgate, we don't see a single soul out and about. They're all packed into the buildings. It's as if they're scared, as if they've been frightened off their own streets. I guess that's what happens when there's talk of terrorists and killer wolves. No-one wants to be out alone, in case they're killed by... whatever it is that's stalking this city.

  "In here," says Duncan, shifting into human form and entering the side door of a pub.

  I shift and follow him in to what turns out to be the pool room. There's no-one else in here, but the sound from the bar is deafening. These people who are scared to be out by themselves, they're drinking their fears away. I guess I understand that.

  Duncan leans through to the bar and calls out a name. "Alex!" he says, then he comes back into the pool room. He's almost ignoring me now, not looking at me at all.

  Moments later, a skinny, tall, youngish guy comes in, and his face lights up with a grin as soon as he sees Duncan. "Mate!" he shouts, and they hug. "Where've you been?" he asks. "There's some fucking weird shit going on here."

  Duncan pulls away from the hug. "I heard," he says. "They're saying it's a wolf."

  "Aye," says Alex. "It is."

  "No way," Duncan says. "It's propaganda from the humans. They're spreading fear."

  "That's what I thought at first," Alex says. "But then I heard it. I heard it howling after it had killed. And then there's the Simpson baby that went missing. They fucking saw the wolf, Duncan."

  "They're lying," Duncan says firmly.

  "They're not," Alex says. He looks over at me. "Duncan, aren't you gonna introduce me to your new friend?"

  We shake hands. "My name's Jess," I say, since Duncan apparently isn't going to bother introducing us.

  "Nice to meet you," says Alex. "My name's Alex." He glances at Duncan. "Does she -"

  "Yes," Duncan says. "She knows about me."

  "Cool," Alex says, nodding. He pauses. "Is she -"

  "Yes," Duncan says. "She's a werewolf."

  "Thanks to Duncan," I say, smiling awkwardly. "So Alex, are you... one of us?"

  He shakes his head. "No way," he says. "I'm human as the rest of the people in this city. Well, most of them." He puts an arm around Duncan's shoulder. "Now, I'm guessing you need a place to stay for the night?"

  "A room," Duncan says.

  "Sure thing," Alex replies. "So... will that be one room, or two rooms?"

  I open my mouth to reply.

  "One room," Duncan says firmly. He looks at me for a moment.

  "Yeah," I say. "One room's fine."

  "And just one night," Duncan adds.

  Alex nods, clearly aware that something's not quite right between Duncan and me. "I'll get your key," he says, leaving the room.

  "Thanks," I say.

  Duncan turns to me. "For what?"

  "Sharing a room," I say. "It's nice."

  "We're not sharing," he says. "I'm sorry, but I have to go and deal with this... whatever it is, on my own. I don't want to be distracted by worrying about you. So you'll get a good night's sleep, and we'll leave in the morning."

  My jaw almost hits the ground. Seriously? He thinks that after everything that's happened, I'm going to go to bed while he heads out to fight... God knows what? After I went down to the Underworld for him? "No fucking way," I say.

  "Key!" says Alex triumphantly as he returns.

  "Give it to her," Duncan says dismissively.

  Alex holds the key out. I grab it and throw it at Duncan. "I'm coming with you!" I shout. "I can help! I'm part of this! I'm -"

  "Wait!" Duncan says. "Alex, can you give us a moment?"

  "Already out of here," Alex says, looking embarrassed as he leaves.

  "Listen," Duncan says, "I know I've been... awkward today. And I've been... insensitive."

  I stare at him.

  "I've been... harsh."

  I stare at him.

  "Mean."

  I stare at him.

  "Awful?" he asks tentatively.

  I sigh. "You're treating me like I'm... like I'm... still a human."

  He nods. "Because deep down, you feel like you are still a human, don't you?" He waits for me to answer, but I don't have anything to say. "Jess, it's okay," he continues. "It takes time. You're struggling to deal with your identity, and that's totally understandable. It's just... while that's happening, there are times when I need to... do things alone. This is one of those times. Do you understand?"

  I stare at him, looking deep into his eyes. I feel like he's treating me as if I'm the little woman who has to stay at home when there's danger outside. I wasn't that kind of person when I was human, and I'm not that kind of person now I'm... whatever I am right now.

  "Fine," I say. "I'll stay here. But if you're not back by dawn, I'm coming to find you."

  He leans down and kisses me briefly on the side of the face. "I'll be back before dawn," he says. "I promise. And this time tomorrow, we'll be on the estate. We'll be in... a place where we can be what we want to be. What we're supposed to be. Wolves. All the time. All day. All night. Just wolves." He smiles as he looks into my eyes. "There's that expression again," he says. "Fear. Je
ss, if you don't want to abandon your human side, that's fine. But it might cause problems."

  I look down, not sure what to say. I want so badly to want what Duncan wants. And the thought of being a wolf part of the time is exciting. But completely abandoning my human side? That's something else. That's something... scary.

  "Back before dawn," he says again, turning and leaving the room. I stand there, watching him leave.

  Finally, Alex comes in. "Let me guess," he says, a faintly amused look on his face. "He's gone out to do the dirty work and left you here to play house."

  I nod.

  He smiles. "You gonna do what he says?"

  "Course not," I say. "Okay, I've got to get going. I need to stick to his tail."

  I grab the key from the floor and head to the door.

  "Hey!" Alex calls out. I turn. "Well..." He seems uncertain for a moment. "When I told Duncan that it's a werewolf that's causing all this trouble in Edinburgh, he didn't believe me. But trust me. I'm right. It really is a werewolf. I've fucking heard it. I've met people who've seen it. And... I can just tell. It's a werewolf. God knows why or how, but it really is."

  "Okay," I say.

  "And Duncan won't like it," Alex adds. "The idea that a werewolf could behave like that, it'll shake Duncan."

  "I have to go," I say, and I hurry away. Once I get outside, I spot Duncan hurrying along the street. He's still in his human form, which I guess is wise in a city where people are already terrified of wolves. I rush after him, making sure to keep far enough behind that he won't know I'm here. I don't know what Duncan's plan is, but I need to be there for him if he finds out that the creature causing all this trouble really is a werewolf. Then again, I've seen Duncan's rage, and I'm not sure I can do much to control it. I just wish I understood it better.

  Darla

  It's dark now. Sitting in the back of the church, with the priest's blood all around my mouth and on my hands, I stare at the empty room. Moonlight streams in through the stained glass windows, and the whole place is eerily quiet. Nothing moves, nothing stirs. The door remains unlocked, but no-one has come to check on the place, or to see why the priest has not returned to his home. No-one cares about anything in this place.

 

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