“Too long,” the man had said, smiling at Caleb. “I have been meaning to come and visit, but time just got away from me. I’m sorry. You get swept up in city life, when you live there.” He smiled ruefully.
Caleb just stared at him. He noticed his large hands when he picked up a cookie. They looked like they could crush someone’s windpipe.
Uncle Rich stayed for a week. During that week, he spent a lot of time with Caleb. He seemed to understand when the boy didn’t want to talk. They just hung out together. Caleb thought that he was cool and asked him what it was like living in the big city of Covenester.
“Interesting,” his uncle had said slowly. “The city is a very different place to this, Caleb. There’s crime and traffic. I…protect the streets.”
“Protect the streets?” Caleb had stared at him. “Are you a cop?”
Uncle Rich had shaken his head, laughing. “If only it were so mundane! A regular cop, walking the beat. No.” He had shaken his head, again. “I’m a little…different to most guys, Caleb. You could say that sometimes something very bestial overwhelms me. Every month, to be exact.”
Caleb had just stared at him, swallowing nervously. It couldn’t be what he thought it was, could it? Was Uncle Rich telling him that he suffered from the same thing that Caleb did?
A wild surge of hope filled his chest. Was it possible that he wasn’t the only person on earth that this happened to? That he wasn’t alone?
“I am part of a wolf pack,” continued Uncle Rich slowly. “A special wolf pack, called the Wild Keepers. We look after the city. There’s an enemy that infiltrates everywhere. A race of demons, called the Vilgath. They cause trouble, trying to sabotage humanity. My wolf pack’s mission is to stop them, at whatever cost.”
Caleb’s eyes widened. What was this? Uncle Rich claiming he was some kind of superhero, like Batman?
“Caleb, I know,” said Uncle Rich gently. “That’s the reason I came. I have been so busy all these years and haven’t had time to get here. But I knew it was your seventeenth birthday recently and that the changes would come to you.”
“You know?” whispered Caleb.
Uncle Rich nodded. “I do,” he said slowly. “The same thing happened to me, at your age. The heightened senses. The ability to run like the wind, and climb higher. Uncanny strength. The hair. And the transformation, into your wolf, under the full moon.”
Caleb had felt like running into his uncle’s arms and weeping. “I’m not a freak?”
“No, Caleb,” his uncle had whispered. “You’re not. You are from a long line of male shifters, on your mother’s side. I knew you were marked for it. I saw the birthmark, on your thigh, when you were a toddler.”
“What can I do?” asked Caleb, hanging his head. “I don’t want to be like this! I just want to be normal!”
“Caleb,” said Uncle Rich sternly. “You are not normal—whatever that is. You are a werewolf. A wolf shapeshifter. You must accept who you are, my nephew. Embrace it. It will destroy you, if you don’t.”
“Can I come with you, to the city?” he asked, staring at his uncle.
“Not yet,” he said. “Not now. You will become a part of the Wild Keepers, and protect the city as I have done, but you have other things to do first. Besides, there is no position in the pack. You have to do what you always wanted to do, and then you will be called, when the time is right.”
And that is exactly what he had done. He had pursued his interest in science, studying it at college. And then, he had been summoned to the city. Uncle Rich had met his match at long last. He was retiring, and Caleb was taking his place in the pack.
He was a member of the Wild Keepers. An elite group of wolf shifters who protected the city from the Vilgath. And he had been trying to prove himself ever since…
***
He stared at Allie, absorbed in the book. It had taken him years to accept himself, and he was still conflicted. But one thing he knew: he wasn’t ready to pass the torch, yet.
And he knew this woman was dangerous. She could undo all the years of hard work with a flick of her luscious blonde hair. The temptation was great.
But his loyalty to his pack was stronger.
Chapter Six
Dr. Morgan leaned back on his rickety chair with a long, drawn out breath.
“It’s happening,” he said slowly. He pushed the newspapers across the table, towards where Caleb and Allie sat across from him.
Allie leaned forward, picking up one of the newspapers. It was the Covenester Chronicle, one of the main city newspapers. A newspaper that her father would probably buy and read if he lived in the city. She scanned it, quickly, noticing the impressive cursive logo and the serious headlines. She could tell that it wasn’t one of those sensationalist newspapers. This was a paper for discerning people, who liked to be properly informed and took their news seriously. The type who shook their paper and frowned as they read it over their morning coffee and eggs.
She scanned it again. Why had Dr. Morgan directed them to look at it?
And then, she saw it. It wasn’t the main story of the day. It wasn’t even a sideline article. It was merely a short paragraph or two. She read the small headline: City hospitals overrun with mystery illness.
She glanced over at Caleb, who was perusing the other newspaper that Dr. Morgan had pushed across the table. She could see that it was called the City Herald and that it would not be read by the discerning audience of the first newspaper. This newspaper had large, shock headlines, and lots of photos. One of those headlines screamed out: City in meltdown over epidemic.
Allie frowned. How had this happened?
“As you can see,” said Dr. Morgan, sighing deeply, “the cat is out of the bag. The papers have got wind of what is happening, and it’s only going to get worse from now on.” He frowned, taking off his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “We will have to issue a statement as to what we have found and what we are doing. If we don’t, we are going to have reporters camped on our doorstep very soon.”
Caleb looked up from his paper. “This article is terrible,” he said. “I don’t think that they got one fact straight. They have just run with the word epidemic.” He tossed it back onto the table. “Are they trying to cause a panic in the city?”
“Of course,” said Dr. Morgan. “The more sensational, the better. These people don’t care about the ramifications of what they report. They don’t even care about the truth. They just want headlines that will shock people into buying their paper.”
“This article is better,” said Allie, staring down at her paper. “It isn’t trying to whip people up into a panic, but it does express concern.”
Dr. Morgan drummed his fingers on the table. He looked haggard. Allie could see dark circles beneath his eyes, and his hair was dishevelled. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed, and the wrong side, at that.
“How close are we to discovering what is causing this?” he said, quietly, staring at them both. “I am going to have the powers-that-be in City Hall screaming at me now. Wanting answers, fast.”
“There is no pathogenic cause of this,” said Caleb slowly. “No sign of bacteria or virus. We are looking further afield now. My hunch is that it is parasitic in origin.”
Dr Morgan raised weary eyes to him. “We don’t work on hunches here, Mr. Stone,” he said crisply. “Which you should be well aware of. Why exactly are you pursuing this line of enquiry, based on the facts?”
Caleb sighed. “There are no facts at this point,” he said slowly. “It’s a process of elimination. Allie and I have been researching potentially deadly parasites. If we can match up one with the symptoms, then we can test for it.”
“That’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” said Dr. Morgan, putting his glasses back on with a sigh. “There are a million different parasites and as many different tests to discover them. We can’t run all those tests on the patients and those who have died.”
“Dr. Morgan,” sa
id Allie. “I know that it is frustrating, and I am sorry that it can’t be a quicker process. I understand how much pressure you are under. Will we get back to work now?”
Dr. Morgan sighed again. “I just don’t think this parasite angle is correct. Parasites are not usually contagious, and whatever this is, it’s working quickly. Like a pathogen. I know that you have looked repeatedly for pathogens, Allie, but I am going to get you to go back over the samples, again.”
Caleb blinked. “Dr. Morgan, with all due respect, those tests have been done. There is nothing more to be gained by retesting. In my opinion it is a waste of time.”
“Mr. Stone,” said Dr. Morgan. “I hear your concerns. But in my opinion, searching for a parasite on a hunch is not a good use of time, either.” He stood up, grabbing his cup and walking to the coffee pot in the corner. “No, the main focus has to be on searching for a pathogen. You can look for a parasite if there is time around that.” He poured himself a coffee, and stood staring at the wall, sipping it.
Caleb frowned, shaking his head. “You are the director, Dr. Morgan,” he said slowly. “But I must reiterate, I think we need to focus on other causes.”
Dr Morgan stared at him. “Duly noted, Mr. Stone,” he said. “But as you said, I am the director of this facility. You are an expert in your field, but you lecture at a university. You are not working on the ground, as we are. I have vast experience in this area, and when there is an outbreak, nine times out of ten it is pathogenic in origin. The statistics don’t lie.”
There was a knock at the door, and Janelle stepped in, staring at them all.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said quickly. “But I have just heard word from the hospital.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Frances passed away this morning.”
Allie stared at her, shaken to the core. This was terrible. She had not known Frances very long, but in the time that she had, she knew how wonderful she was. To die in this way…it was unfair.
“That is very sad news indeed,” said Dr. Morgan softly. “Frances was a much-loved and well-respected member of our team.” He sighed deeply. “Janelle, please call an urgent meeting. I will have to inform the staff.”
Janelle nodded, tears swimming in her eyes. “I know it’s bad timing,” she said, “but I have City Hall on the line, Dr. Morgan. The mayor. He doesn’t sound happy.”
Dr. Morgan nodded, turning to Allie and Caleb. “Will you both excuse me?”
They stood up, walking out of the office with Janelle. Allie could hear Dr. Morgan on the phone as they closed the door behind them.
Janelle walked away to organise the meeting. Caleb turned to Allie, staring down at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “About Frances. I never met her, but I can tell how much this team loved her.”
Allie took a deep breath. “I didn’t know her well,” she said. “But she was kind to me in the time that I did. And she didn’t deserve to die like this, Caleb. We must find out what is causing this…for everyone. And in Frances’ memory, as well.”
“We will,” he said softly, his green eyes glimmering as he stared at her. “I promise you. We will find out, and we will find out how to beat it, as well.”
She stared up at him. She felt like walking into his arms and burying her head against his shoulder. She wanted him to hold onto her tightly. Again, she marvelled at the intense reaction she always had when she was around him. As if she had known him a long, long time. As if they had always known each other.
He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently. A little awkwardly. As if he wanted to comfort her but didn’t quite know how.
There was the sound of a cell phone ringing in his jacket pocket. He turned and took it out, staring at the screen.
“I have to take this,” he said abruptly, walking off.
She watched him walk into a vacant room. He didn’t smile at her as he closed the door. In fact, he looked like he was a million miles away and barely recognised her anymore. The closeness that had just sprung up between them evaporated into the air.
He was a puzzle, thought Allie. Sometimes she felt as if he were reaching out to her; she could feel his interest in her. Like in the library, that afternoon. She had felt his eyes gazing on her warmly when they had been sifting through the books, searching for a possible cause to this mystery. But when she would look up and return his gaze, he would frown and refuse to make eye contact.
Who was Caleb Stone? And why did he blow so hot and cold around her? More to the point, why did she care so much? He was little more than a stranger, after all. He didn’t work here permanently. When this was done, he would go back to his own life and she would probably never see him again.
As much as Allie wanted to solve this, her heart plummeted at the thought.
***
“To Frances.” Janelle held her glass of white wine high.
The people sitting at the table in the bar repeated what she said and raised their own glasses. Everyone took a sip then placed them back on the table. There was silence, as they became lost in their own thoughts. The mood was subdued.
Allie stared around. It was a hip, inner-city bar, sleek and modern in design. On this night, it was just starting to fill with people who had knocked off work. The sound of laughter filled the air, as people sipped cocktails and wine. She watched as a musician set up in a corner, tuning his guitar.
This wasn’t the place for this, thought Allie. They should have gone to some quiet pub, further out. A place with deep booths, where they could be subdued, and sip their drinks plaintively. This bar was going to get loud, and the clientele looked like they were ready to party.
It had been Janelle’s idea, to go for after-work drinks. She had suggested it at the end of the meeting that day, when Dr. Morgan had told them about Frances’ death. Allie knew why she had suggested it; it was so they could grieve together, in a more informal way. Frances would have a funeral and a reception, of course, but this could be her work colleagues’ way of saying farewell. Drown their sorrows, just a little.
“I remember the first day she started,” said someone, breaking the silence. “Strode into that office like she owned it.”
“She was always confident,” said someone else. “That’s what I liked about her.”
“Yes,” said Janelle. “She was confident, but she wasn’t arrogant. She had an air of kindness about her. And smart! You know she was going to go back to study this year…again. It was like she had this hunger inside her. She always wanted to learn more.”
Allie smiled to herself. She wished that she had gotten to know Frances better. An older woman than herself but still passionate. Allie sensed that Frances could have become a mentor to her. And now, all that passion and life was gone. Wiped away in a moment. She left behind a husband and two teenage sons.
It wasn’t fair, what had happened to her. Wrong place or wrong time? How had Frances contracted whatever had killed her?
Allie stared down into her glass of wine. She suddenly felt a need to get back to work. She shouldn’t have come out tonight; while she was sitting here, more people were getting sick, and some were dying.
She had taken a few books home with her from the library, to study later. She had pored over the samples again and found nothing new. She was starting to believe Caleb’s theory that this was not caused by a pathogen, and that they needed to focus all their time and energy elsewhere.
Caleb. He had been remote, and strange, after his phone call. The closeness that had sprung up between them, after being told of Frances’ death, had completely gone. He had attended the meeting where they were told about Frances, but he had looked distracted. The man who had comforted her was not there anymore.
As the meeting had dispersed, Janelle had turned to him, asking him politely if he would like to go out with them that evening. He had hesitated briefly, staring at Allie. Then he had shaken his head, saying that he was busy that night.
“Caleb Stone is a strang
e man,” Janelle had said to Allie after he had rushed off. “Drop dead gorgeous, of course, and obviously smart. I haven’t ever met him before now. Do you know anything about him?”
Allie had shaken her head. “Not much,” she said. “He lectures at a university. He lives in the city, apparently.”
Janelle’s eyes had narrowed. “A man of mystery,” she said. She had turned to talk to someone who approached her, and the subject had been dropped.
The sound of acoustic guitar filled the air around them, and the guitarist started to sing an old favourite. People sang along, clinking their drinks. Laughter and chatter started to get louder. Allie felt a slight headache coming on. She really should leave soon. Their group was not about to celebrate, and she felt another rush of urgency to get back to work.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash. A group of people crowded around someone on the floor. Allie and the others craned their necks to see what was going on.
“He just collapsed,” a woman was screeching. “Is anyone a doctor in here? A nurse?”
“Too many drinks, too quickly,” said someone at their table, shaking their head. They all smiled wryly, but Allie wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t as if it was three am; the bar had only just started to get crowded. The chances that this was caused by over indulging weren’t high.
She felt a shiver of fear run through her. Was it the sickness again?
Someone was calling an ambulance. The guitarist had stopped playing, standing up and staring at the scene, along with everybody else.
“I don’t understand,” screeched the woman who had asked for a doctor. “He said that he was feeling a bit achy, but he was okay.”
“It’s the sickness,” said somebody else, loudly. “Haven’t you all heard? There’s something going around, and it’s not good.”
There was loud talking, as people turned to each other, panicked. At that moment, the paramedics walked in, dispersing the crowd.
“We should get out of here,” said Janelle, her eyes wide. “What if it is this sickness? It could be airborne. I think I would feel safer at home.” She grabbed her bag, standing up.
Wild Keepers Page 7
