Life With A Werewolf

The Nobility Finale - Showdown

          I wasn’t around for Kris or Sean’s bit of this involvement. I was trying to make my way towards the mansion while they were pulling the bodies out of that SUV that was still running. The mansion was designed to look like a standard middle class American home but on steroids. As if the folks who grow these pop-up neighborhoods from the seeds they plant them from had given it just a bit too much Miracle Grow and let the water run just a tad too long. Standard roof at the top with an Apex and three windows facing towards traffic. Lights were on inside. They had security lights running outside as well. From the dark, I think it the exterior was that red dark brick? But honestly, it could have had a mural of Fat Elvis eating a bean burrito for all I could see out there in the dark. I did see the shadows of trees carefully placed on the lawn. The large four car garage doors were open, with twin pairs of eyes shining at us in the darkness.

          I did see Cecily, Killian, and Mitch in the briefest of glimpses, then they were gone, racing up the hill. Behind me the SUV had started its movement towards the garage. I heard the front door clang open, a few snarls and nips. Those eyes in the garage disappeared. Then…silence. Followed by a lone howl in the night, one that chilled my blood.

          But fear wasn’t a luxury that any of us then could afford. So, I took that fear and the anger I felt and shoved it in a box, taped it up tight, and placed it on a shelf in my brain. I’d have the luxury of feeling pain, fear, anger, shame and regret later. Now was time for action. I checked my magazine. I had a few shots left. Two to be exact, with one in the chamber. Hopefully it would be enough. With a glance over my shoulder, I could see Zack, for his part was doing his best. Grim faced, fearful, yet moving forward. Donte was covering the rear like a professional, ensuring there was no one coming upon us from behind. For a moment we felt like a functioning team.

          Clearing a building as a well-oiled military machine takes time, practice, and A LOT of hours of learning how to move around objects like furniture, interior structures like walls, windows and doorways without accidentally killing each other. Military units will practice that for days, sometimes weeks. We had the time it took us from getting across the street and to the front door to get it right. We didn’t.

          Which is why I wanted to start out by pointing out how brave everyone was. How much danger we were all in. How out of his element Zack was, a guy more suited to holding a game controller than a pistol, and how unpracticed, unoiled, and unmachined like we were. Cause despite all the mistakes we made, the amateur moves that was done which may have endangered all of our lives, despite deep down knowing that we could be and probably would be killed, and a good chance by each other on accident, we kept moving forward. Especially those two who hadn’t practiced this on a daily basis for weeks on end before in their previous occupation.

          Cause, after all, when I was in training to clear buildings and doing all the military training for that function, I fell inside the doorway of my first building too. Though, I was the last guy in, not the first guy, and so I didn’t have anyone trip over me. It is an honest to goodness miracle that we didn’t kill each other right then and there.

          “Watch where you’re going,” Donte snarled as he picked himself up off the floor.

          Zack apologized, ducking his head sheepishly as he stood up as quick as he could. I rolled my eyes and for once bit my tongue. What can I say? I can learn things. Sure, it may take something everyone getting kidnapped for it to happen, but I can learn.

          The first room we entered was a large hallway of some kind. There was a sweeping staircase that had blood running down its steps and the body of a half-formed creature of some kind at the bottom of it. It was a were-something at one point; right then it was a dead were-something.

          We walked past the stairs looking for the entrance to the basement, where everyone was supposed to be. I walked past a door in the hallway running past the stairs, and kept going. Zack came up behind me, looked at the door he said, then looked forward and started moving again. It was then the door exploded outwards, splintering off its hinges beneath the weight of the beast.

          It leaped towards Zack, who couldn’t bring his pistol up fast enough. The first shot went wild. Second shot into the floor. And then with a glint in the light the pistol was flying down the hallway.

          Donte fired a shot, but since his bullets didn’t have silver, the werewolf ignored him. He fired a second, and the creature brought its head up. Its teeth glistened in the light. If it wanted to, it could have ripped Zack’s poor head right off. And then I could tell it wanted to. I raised my pistol and fired.

          The carnage…well there was carnage that splattered. Everyone. That’s what I’ll say. The rest of it and how much I’ll let your imagination do the talking. The body collapsed on Zack, pinning him to the floor. It was a struggle, but after we got Zack up, he patted himself down real quick, sighed and said, “I’m good, lets go.”

          Then on we moved. Thankfully, the pistol flew just a few feet before landing next to a crushed coffee table. We were navigating at that moment by pure logic. Given the stairwell pointed upwards, perhaps the door furthest down the hallway would lead downward. It was our first guess, and thankfully the correct one.

          My hand pressed against the door handle. I took a deep breath, and opened it. Slowly, but surely, we began making our way down the stairs. Up from the basement snarls. Growls. And..words. I could hear words.

          “You just don’t understand what we’re trying to…”

          Then Crash’s distinct voice. “I understand completely what you’re doing, you son of a bitch.”

          I knew his voice. Roam’s voice too. There was a snarl of some sort. And…Tanika?

          We ran head long down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. The stairs opened up into a finished basement of sorts. Silver plated bars on guilded cages held Crash in one side, and Roam and Tanika on the other. These bars weren’t thick. They were thin. So thin that if anyone attempted to, they could bend or break them. However, not without their strange triangular twisting shapes cutting into your flesh, which was the point. Silver is poisonous to a werewolf after all if it gets in their blood.

          The rest of the basement was bare concrete and fluorescent lights, like it was ripped from a hospital’s basement in the eighties. There he was, in his silver furred glory with a dark streak of black down his back. Verner. The one who had done all of this.

          “And you,” he snarled at me. “I try to save you, and this is the thanks I get?! I really should let that drug addict vamp trash finish the job.”

          “Dad! Mom!”

          I knew better than to turn my head and look, but in the corner of my eye I could see Donte moving towards the cages. He’d get them out, I was sure. Verner turned and snarled at him; I fired a single shot. “Next one goes in you,” I said.

          He turned and growled at me, low and vicious in his throat. His lip curled up, showing every tooth he had in his skull. I had one shot left. “Try it,” I grinned. “I’ll cure all your ills.” Okay, so I stole that line. So, shoot me.

          Verner leaped.

          I felt the thump almost before I saw it. Then I against the floor. This creature snarled above me ready for the kill. It raised it’s right hand up, dark deadly claws ready to end my life.

          My next moves were instinctive, from years of military training. First step is to create space. I raised my knee, and caught him in the groin. The creature yelped and lifted half an inch. It was more than enough.

          I pressed upward with my right hand, moving my pistol.

          I wasn’t watching what I was shooting. I just pulled the trigger.

          The bullet moved upward, drawing a straight line from almost near his hip over his chest and through the creature’s forearm. I heard a yelp I’ve never heard before in my life. One born of pain and sudden desperation.

          I rolled over onto my hand and knees, in time to see the werewolf raise his bleeding, oozing arm to his maw. He pressed the elbow at the joint to his open jaws and bit down, severing the forearm completely. It dropped onto the stone floor. He loped up the steps and was gone.

***

          It took us hours to get home. Not much was said between anyone the entire time, even me. Having been through similar things in my previous occupation working for everyone’s least favorite rich uncle, I knew better than to try and talk or joke with people in this state. Crash sat in the back, wearing a simple set of shorts and a very sour look on his face. He watched the scenery move by the SUV’s window as we finally pulled into our house.

          “I need a vacation,” he grumbled.

          “We all do,” Zack muttered.

          “Been there. Nothing but sandy beaches for miles and miles. No waves though, no water. Nothing to do but shoot at people. Overrated. One star, would not go back,” I grumbled.

          Zack gave me a strange look, then asked, “did you just yelp review one of your deployments?”

          I shrugged. Everyone in the car began to giggle a little. Everyone but Crash. I get the feeling that they used to wonder why I never talked about the other stuff. Why I never really wrote or told about what had happened. Everyone was too polite to ask of course, but after this brief but tragic adventure, I get the feeling that none of them will wonder anymore.

          Of course, I’ll know. I’ll know why Zack is up three hours after he long should have gone to bed playing Call of Duty or some space ranger death game. I’ll know why Sean and Kris grumble and become stand offish at times; why when they hear certain sounds, they’ll get tense. Or wish to drink something stronger than soda. Crash will too. We’ll do what we can for them. We’ll just be there when they need us. This time, though, I won’t offer my stupid cliché advice or asinine jokes. I’ll just listen.

          The SUV pulled into the house at about five after six. Cecily was standing on the front lawn waiting for us when we pulled in. I watched her face go from strained worry to relief as everyone began to pull in. The sun had finally started to rise. When I got out of the car, I looked towards it. “Horrible night,” I said. “But it’s going to be a good morning.”

          "Thank God you're still alive," she sighed. "Is everyone behind you?"

          Crash nodded to her as he patted me on the back. Roam and Tanika pulled up in Donte’s car. Donte got out and of course was all smiles. “Well, it’s been years, but I’m so glad that finally we can,” he began.

          Crash turned towards Roam, and snarled at him. “This makes up for nothing. You have thirty minutes to get your crap and get out of here.”

          Zack, Kris, Sean, Donte, Cecily and I all stood around staring at each other, a bit shocked.

          “I did not think it would,” Roam said finally. “We will be gone in ten.”

          Kris of all people looked at Crash, then at Roam. “What the hell happened?!”

          Roam’s shoulders fell. “It is not my tale to tell. But I will say that I do not blame him.” I thanked Roam and gave him a hand shake. Which turned into a hug. Which Tanika turned into a group hug. Which Donte joined in on. Then Cecily. Finally, Kris, Zack and Sean all joined in. Which started to get a little awkward if I’m going to be completely honest. They did promise to read this blog when they got a chance, so hello guys. Hope everything is still going well with you.

          When our little hug therapy session ended, we said our final goodbyes, and they were gone. Heading back to whatever area the Rodriguez pack had come from. Zack, Kris, Sean and myself all saw them off. Crash, of course, was already inside.

          I walked up the hill in front of our old home, and climbed up the steps onto the porch. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Crash said from the darkness. I could tell he was staring out at the entrance to the woods.

          “Well, can we talk about what happened here then?”

          “You ruined a perfectly good plan. I’m pretty pissed at you, you know.”

          “Well,” I said, “go ahead. Let me have it. But I get my say in after.”

          “Do you know, this is my job? This is what I do for a living! I’m a functioning policing member of the county. I’m a representative to the ones you call the ‘mythical’ population and one of the few they can actually turn to when they need help. Who do you think the Hulderfolk turn to when they get a burglary? When a vampire gets murdered, who’s job is it to investigate? When the minotaurs have their weirdo festival they have in the spring and keep everyone else up, including the local humans, who do you think gets the call for that? Me. That’s who. Not you. But you keep getting involved, you keep interfering, and damn it, you’re starting to get in my way!”

          He paused for a moment, then looked back towards the woods. After the silence began to grow between us like a rift, I said, “are you done?”

          “No! But yeah.” Classic Crash.

          “How the hell am I supposed to know what the plan is if you don’t tell me anything.”

          Crash looked as if I had slapped him. “What?”

          “You heard me. How am I supposed to know what the plan is if you don’t tell me anything. You know what my last job was? I was in the military. Got pretty high up there, too. And yes, it was a lot of ‘right place, right time, right uniform, right attitude,’ that got me there, but it was also the fact that I learned! Particularly to adapt and over come in any situation, as you’ve just had a first hand of witnessing.

          “In my last job, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE that was involved with a plan knew the entire plan and what their part in it was. This was so if something went wrong, they could improvise, and make damn sure that the mission, whatever it was, was accomplished. My job was not, and never had it ever been to ‘shut up and follow orders’.”

          Crash didn’t respond, he kept staring into the woods, as if he longed to be there. “We all bring something different here. Zack is the glue that holds everything together. Kris and Sean, they’re the quirky ones who give us someone to talk to about something that’s not weirdo werewolf shit. They help with the techno babble that goes over all our heads. Me? I’m the security guy. I’m going to make damn sure everyone is safe and comes home. And you, you’re our fucking Alpha. You’re the werewolf we all love and want to make sure is safe and sound. Security guy can’t do his security guy things if you’re not telling him the fucking plan! Why do you think I’m always doing so many crazy things around here? I’m constantly just throwing pasta against the walls trying to see what sticks.”

          Crash sighed. “Sean is right, dude. You never shut up,” he said with a grin.

          “Gah,” I cried turning around for a moment, clenching my fists.

          He stood and patted me on the shoulder. “I guess I understand,” he said.

          “I’m not asking to be involved in the day-to-day of your job. But if there’s a plan of some kind that involves me, I need to know the entire thing, not one tiny part. I need the tools to improvise. Or I will just improvise.”

         “I’ll think about it. I’ll have to run this by my boss first, of course.”

          I nodded. “Do what you need to. But if there’s a plan and I’m going to be involved, I need to know the whole plan! You’re Alpha. I need to know where I’m marching and what to do when I get there.”

          “Things will get even weirder if he goes for this. Just so you know.”

          Then I said perhaps the dumbest statement I’ve said all week. “There’s a meth headed vampire who wants me dead. A homicidal lawn gnome who keeps fiddling with my car. And now that batshit crazy one-armed werewolf. How much weirder can things get?” You’d think I’d learn by now that God, the universe, or what ever strange creature that runs all of this would take that statement as a challenge. Some lessons I’ll never learn, I guess.

          “You want me to get you a beer or something,” I asked as I began to leave the porch.

          “Nah,” he said. “I think I’m going to just go running.”

          I knew what that meant. “Well, it’s supposed to be Zack’s night cooking, but I figure we’ll probably just eat out. Taco’s good for you?”

          Crash grinned. “You read my mind,” he said, and walked towards his bedroom. I walked towards the shower. I knew before I got the water warm, he had already shifted and was gone. We’d see him again soon, though. Perhaps Mitch met him out there, if he didn’t have a shift at his fast-food job that is. They could run through the woods and complain about us whiny humans while doing whatever it is werewolves do when they get together like that. I just hope they don’t scare any hikers. Again.