Werewolves of the Other London

by Amy Cross

  "Shit," says Darla.

  "What?" I ask again.

  "You hear that?" Darla asks.

  "No," I say, starting to panic.

  Silence for a moment.

  And then...

  "Run!" shouts Duncan, and at that moment I finally see what they're talking about: about a dozen humans rush over the horizon and head toward us, firing machine guns. I turn just as Duncan, Darla and Robin shift into their wolf forms. It takes me a fraction of a second longer, but soon I'm in my wolf form too, and we're all running as fast as we can. It's hard to keep up at times, because Duncan and Robin seem to know this land so well that they don't even worry about where they're going. Darla and I have to be more careful, even as we run at full speed between the trees, and I have the added disadvantage of still being new to this, of still not being quite so sure with my footing.

  There's no time to look back, no time to check if the humans have kept up with us. For a moment, it all seems very easy. But just as I begin to wonder if we've given them the slip, I hear a whining sound and a series of bullets hit the tree I'm running past. The humans are still shooting at us. No sooner have I got used to that, than I see Duncan and Robin suddenly veer sharply to the left. Just as I react and follow them, I see another group of humans up ahead, then another. Duncan and Robin manage to get past them, but Darla and I are a fraction behind and we both have to jump over the soldiers. We make it - just - and we manage to keep running as we land.

  Eventually Duncan and Robin slow down ahead, and the four of us come to a halt between the trees. Looking back, I see that there are no humans behind us... for now. My heart is pounding so loud, I can hear it. And now that we've finally stopped, I find myself running out of breath.

  Still in our wolf forms, we head to what appears to be a small cave. Robin leads us inside. It's dark and it takes a while for my eyes to get used to the situation, but I slowly become aware of other wolves in the cave. Eventually we reach a large cavern, where around fifty wolves are gathered. It's still pitch black in here. A human wouldn't be able to see a thing, but wolves have much better vision in the dark so I can just about make the others out. Some of them look like they're just children, young wolves, not yet fully grown. It's shocking to see all these wolves together, and to realize: this is it. This is the end of an entire species. Gathered here, every werewolf left on the planet. Chased here by their respective governments, forced to live on this estate. Those who chose to stay in the rest of the world were hunted down and killed. And this is all that's left.

  "The humans have made their final move," says a voice nearby. I turn to see one of the wolves has shifted into his human form. When I look back, Duncan, Robin and Darla have done the same. I follow their lead, returning to my human shape.

  "We're all here now," says another voice, a female voice. "It's time to make a decision. It's time to work out what we're going to do."

  "We should negotiate," says a third voice. "We should tell the humans that we'll accept their terms, and we should surrender."

  "They're not interested in us surrendering," says another voice. "They only want to kill us."

  "We should fight," says a voice directly behind me.

  "Fighting would be suicide," says another voice.

  "Then we should run," says the earlier female voice.

  "Running is no longer an option," says Robin. "The humans know we might try that. They have weapons and machines that can track us, whatever we do."

  "Then we have no option but to fight," says another voice, an older voice, from behind us.

  "If we fight, we die," says another voice.

  "If we don't fight, we die," says Robin.

  "So is this our only choice?" asks the older voice. "To decide how we die?"

  "At least there's honor in such a choice," says another voice. "If we have to die, we can at least take as many humans with us as possible. We can die with their blood in our mouths."

  "They won't kill the children," says a voice nearby.

  "Of course they will," says another voice. "They'll kill all of us, regardless of age."

  "We don't have to die," says Duncan.

  There's silence in the cavern for a moment.

  "Do you have a plan?" asks a voice eventually.

  "I'm working on it," says Duncan, not very encouragingly. He doesn't sound too confident.

  "Time's running out," says Darla.

  "Give me a little longer," Duncan says.

  "You got any ideas yet?" Darla asks.

  "I told you," he says, "I'm working on it."

  "Scouts report humans gathering at the entrance to this cavern," says another voice.

  "Are there any other routes out?" asks Duncan.

  "There -" another voice starts to say, but there's a sudden whistling sound and then a huge explosion above us, cracking the roof of the cavern and sending large pieces of rock raining down on us. The whole place seems to shake, and for a moment it occurs to me that we might all end up being buried alive. But the ceiling seems to hold up, just about.

  "Missiles," says Robin, before a second explosion. This time, a large section of the ceiling collapses. Wolves from the far end of the cavern race away from the danger.

  "We have to get out of here," Duncan says. Already wolves are starting to run toward the exit. Duncan turns to me. "Just keep going, jump over anything that's in your way, and you'll be okay," he says. "I promise I won't let them take you."

  "Spoken like a true gentleman," says Darla. "But are we really supposed to believe that you can protect us?"

  "I didn't offer to protect you," Duncan says to her before turning to me. "But Jess, you know I'll make sure you're okay, right?" He smiles. "Come on. It's me. I got cut in half and buried, and I still managed to crawl out of my grave. You know it takes more than a flesh wound to stop me."

  I nod, even though I doubt he really has the power to keep me safe. Hell, I doubt he has the power to keep me alive for too long. "If we get separated," I say, "I'll meet you back in the Underworld, and we'll just stay down there with all the creatures. Forever. Like we should have done in the first place."

  "Sure," says Duncan. "And we'll raise little baby werewolves."

  "Watch it," I say. "Little fast there, Mister. I'm willing to fight to the death against the entire human race with you. Doesn't mean I'm interested in anything too serious."

  Duncan smiles. "Agreed," he says.

  The other wolves are gathered, ready to run. Duncan, Darla and I shift into our wolf forms, and then everyone runs. Fifty or sixty wolves storming along the tunnel. The sound is thunderous. For a moment, it's hard to believe that anything can stop us. But then we emerge from the darkness, into the light, and a hail of bullets from all sides immediately cuts down half the wolves ahead of me. I keep going, knowing that to stop for a moment, even to slow down, would be dangerous. The wolves who fall will die, but some of us are going to make it. Bullets fly through the air around me. Any second, one of them could slice into me and I'd be brought down. But I'm one of the lucky ones. I make it away from the cave and I follow the other wolves. I lose track of Duncan and Darla, but I just have to hope to God that they made it as well.

  Eventually I see that some of the wolves have stopped in a small clearing. I stop with them, and I'm relieved to see Duncan and Darla are still with us. There's the sound of shouting from nearby, as humans try to follow us. There were fifty or sixty wolves when we left the cave, now there are maybe twenty. Some scattered in other directions, but I'm sure I saw at least ten being shot down. The bullets won't have killed them, but the humans will have taken their stunned bodies and vaporized them. Permanent, final death. No return.

  We all go to the side of a set of rocks, hoping to find somewhere to rest for a moment, but it's useless. Wherever we run, there'll be humans. We're just putting off the inevitable. We can run, but the humans have missiles and heat-seeking devices and vaporizers. It's hard to see how we can compete with that kind of power.

 
Around me, Duncan, Darla and some of the others shift into their human forms for a moment. I stay as a wolf.

  "It'll take them a moment to vaporize the wolves they shot," says Duncan. "But they'll be on our trail soon enough. And they've got infra-red and heat-sensors, they can track us whatever we do. Even if we go underground, they've got sonar."

  "We have to get to the old hall," says Robin from behind me. "It's the only place where we can make a stand."

  "What kind of stand can we make?" a voice asks from behind me. "There are so many humans, they'll just keep piling in until they've got us."

  "It's better than nothing," says a voice near me with a strong Scottish accent.

  "They killed children," says Darla, her eyes dark. "Just like before. They're killing everything that moves."

  "Don't get angry," Duncan says to her. "Anger clouds your judgment, makes you fuck things up. Stay calm. We'll go to the old hall, and we'll come up with a plan."

  "Your famous plan, eh, darling?" Darla says. "Forgive me, Duncan, but time's run out on your plan. I don't think -"

  There's a sudden scream of pain from nearby. We head to the side of the rocks and look over to see that two human soldiers have cornered a wolf cub. Just a child, the creature is yelping in pain, having been shot in the leg. The humans are trying to gather it up, to vaporize it, but they're taking their time. It's almost as if they're playing with it, torturing it so that its pain lasts longer.

  "We have to do something," I say.

  "No," says Duncan. "We can't."

  "He's right," says Robin. "We have to go. We can't risk the whole pack to save just one cub."

  There's a moment of pause.

  "We have to go!" Robin hisses.

  Slowly the wolves start moving on, but the sound of the injured cub being carried away by the humans is horrific. It's screaming and whimpering, and the humans are kicking it so hard it's difficult to believe a normal wolf would have survived. But the other werewolves, broken down and battle-hardened, don't do anything to help the cub, and soon, there's just me, Duncan and Darla watching, the others having all headed off to temporary safety.

  "It's happening all over again," says Darla, watching with tears in her eyes as the cub is dragged away.

  "There's nothing we can do for that cub," says Duncan. "Remember what I said. Emotion will just make you angry, and anger will get you killed." He waits for a reply. "Darla, are you listening to me."

  "Sure," she says, somewhat reluctantly.

  "Come on, then," Duncan says.

  We turn to leave, but then Darla turns back. "There's something we can do," she says. She smiles at me. "Make sure he comes up with a plan," she says.

  I stare at her. "What do you mean?"

  She laughs. "See you around, darling!" And with that, she switches to her wolf form and runs out into the forest, heading straight for the soldiers. They look up, but not in time, and Darla leaps straight onto one of them, ripping his neck apart. Blood sprays across the forest floor as the injured soldier clutches his gashed neck, but he quickly falls still. Before the other soldier can react, Darla turns to him and does the same thing, this time biting even deeper and ripping his entire head from his body. As she finishes them both off, the cub runs over toward Duncan and me and then hurries after the others. It's limping and injured, but it'll heal. The important thing is that it's alive, at least for now. Darla saved it.

  I look over at Darla. She has blood all over her face from the two humans. She looks shocked to be still alive. She turns to run back to us, but as she does so there's a crack of gunfire and she drops to the ground. She tries to get up, but there's more gunfire and she collapses.

  Instinctively, I leap forward to go and help her, but Duncan holds me back, putting his hand over my mouth to make sure that I don't cry out. I struggle, but he's holding me so firm, I have no chance to get away from him. That doesn't stop me, though, and I try to kick him away. Still, he holds me tightly, absorbing all my kicks and attempts to get free.

  As I watch, Darla shifts into her human form. She has three or four bullet wounds and although she tries to get to her feet, she can't. Even in her human form, she looks like a wounded animal as she scrambles about in the dirt, desperately trying to get up and get away. Three human soldiers run over to her and grab her, and a small armored van races over to them, pulling up with screeching tires.

  I struggle to get free from Duncan's grip, but he refuses to let me go. "You can't help her!" he hisses. "Do you really think she wants us to lay down our lives just for some pointless sacrifice? Don't throw your own life away."

  The back doors of the van are opened and the sound of a machine starts up. It sounds horrific, like some kind of set of huge blades. Darla fights back against the soldiers as they drag her toward the van. She shifts back and forth from human to wolf, and eventually she almost manages to get free. She bites the face of one of the soldiers, ripping away a huge chunk of flesh. He falls back, blood pouring from his head, but the other two are strong enough and they throw Darla into the back of the van. She lets out a brief scream, and then there's a horrific grinding sound, and blood flows out of the van and down onto the forest floor.

  I struggle even harder to get free from Duncan. There's still time. If I can -

  "Clear!" shouts one of the soldiers, to make sure that the others aren't touching the back of the van. He then hits a button and there's a flash of blue light from inside the van.

  Duncan holds me tight, but I've already stopped struggling. I know it's too late now. I've just watched my friend, perhaps my best friend, being killed. They ground her up like meat, and then they vaporized the remains. Werewolves can survive a lot, but there are some things that mean death. Permanent death.

  "I'm sorry," says Duncan, whispering in my ear so that the soldiers don't hear us. "I'm so sorry."

  I struggle against him, still determined to go and try to do something. Tears stream down my face, but there's nothing I can do. Not now. I watch as the humans quickly shut the back of the van. To them, Darla was just another werewolf, just one of the many they've killed today. They help the injured soldier, who seems to be missing half his face but is able to stagger to the van. In the distance, a dozen more soldiers run toward the scene.

  "We got one of them!" a soldier shouts. "Female."

  "We have to go," says Duncan.

  I shake my head, unable to believe that Darla's really dead.

  "We have to go!" he insists.

  I struggle to get free. I have to go and kill those soldiers. I have to make them pay for killing Darla.

  "We'll get them," Duncan says, as if he can read my mind. "But not now. Right now would just be suicide. Please, Jess. Don't let anger get you killed. Not like Darla."

  I stop struggling. Beyond my anger and despair at Darla's death, I know that he's right. Duncan lets go of me and switches to his wolf form, then we turn and run. After a while, I spot the injured cub, still struggling along. Without hesitating, I stop, reach down and pick him up in my mouth, then I run after Duncan again. There's no time to mourn Darla right now, no time to stop and wonder what went through her mind as she was ground up and her remains were vaporized I just have to keep running, at least for now. Part of me wants to just keep running forever, to never stop, to run across the entire planet if I have to, and to never, ever think about the things that have happened today. But I don't have that option and soon, it'll be time to fight. It's crushingly inevitable that the humans are going to move in for the final push soon. Wherever we choose to make our final stand, we're going to have to fight. Even if we have no chance of winning.

  Meanwhile

  "One hour ago," said Withers, studying the latest data on his laptop, "there were sixty-three werewolves reported alive on the estate. Now that number is down to... thirty-five. At this rate, the entire werewolf species will be completely wiped out by sundown."

  Chaucer nodded. "It's a shame we have to vaporize them," he says. "In a way, I'd much prefer to recy
cle them. Perhaps use their fur to make coats, their skins to make shoes. Like the animals that they are. But we can't risk that, can we? Wouldn't want your shoes to suddenly come back to life while you're strolling down Five Mile Road, would you?" He laughed at his own joke.

  Withers looked at the rest of the data. "We're ahead of schedule," he said. "We expected to have wiped out the werewolves by sunrise tomorrow, but it's looking like we'll have it done by sundown today. That's around twelve hours faster than we planned."

  Chaucer smiled. "I don't think anyone could ask for more than that, now could they?" he said. "Total extermination of the species, in time for dinner."

  Withers' radio crackled to life. He listened to a message for a moment. "Understood," he said, putting the radio down and turning to Chaucer. "Captain Lucas has arrived at the perimeter," he said. "I'll send an armed guard to meet him."

  "No," said Chaucer. "No, don't do that. He'll be quite safe, and it will show him the extent of our good work that we no longer need to provide a guard in this area."

  "Are you sure, Sir?" Withers asked.

  "Quite sure," Chaucer replied. The thought of Captain Lucas being sent to 'help' still irked him, and he was determined to show that he had the whole situation completely under control. "If GCHQ insist on sending their man up, let's at least give him a show to enjoy. Let him make his way to us without seeing a single werewolf. They're all trapped now, anyway."

  Withers nodded. "As you wish, Sir," he said. He paused, not sure whether he should mention the next issue. "Sir, there was some discussion about whether it's entirely wise to kill all the werewolves."

  "What do you mean?" Chaucer asked.

  "Well, Sir, for scientific purposes," Withers continued. "Would it not perhaps be worth considering the possibility that we could keep one of the creatures alive for tests? We could learn something from them."

  Chaucer thought about the idea for a moment. "Keep a werewolf alive?" he asked incredulously. "There's no need for that. We've studied them before. We know how they work. Keeping one alive would just be tempting fate. And besides, wouldn't it be cruel? To keep one in a cage, to let it know that it's the last of its species?"