Lycan

by John O'Brien

  “The smaller pack followers can be up to three feet tall, but the leader can be four or more feet at the shoulder–”

  “Fuck! Four feet tall at the shoulder?” Henderson exclaims. Standing, he holds a hand horizontally at about mid chest. “You’re telling me that a wolf…pardon me, werewolf…is this fucking tall and only at the shoulder.”

  He turns to look toward the ceiling. “That’s what, eight or nine feet tall if they stand up? Wait, can they stand?”

  “Much like a bear, yes they can,” Lynn answers. “But their speed and power come from being on all fours. And you’re correct with their dimensions.”

  “So, that would put the leader at what? Five hundred pounds or more?” I ask.

  “Probably anywhere from seven to nine hundred,” Lynn replies.

  All eyes drift over toward Greg. “Don’t be looking at me like that.”

  “You know, with a little hair…” Gonzalez comments.

  Henderson walks over and leans over, looking at and in Greg’s ears.

  “Oh, fuck you all!” Greg exclaims, jerking away from Henderson’s inspection.

  “All right children, settle down. This isn’t recess,” Lynn states. “We only have tonight and tomorrow before we hit the field.”

  Henderson heads back to his seat, pausing with a backward glance toward Greg. “Go on, farmboy, you heard the lady, take your seat.”

  “Are we good to continue?” Lynn asks, looking around the table.

  “Do I have time to go get some garlic?” McCafferty inquires.

  “That only works on vampires,” Denton comments.

  “Oh yeah. Well, then I’m good,” McCafferty says.

  “It’s like herding cats,” Lynn mumbles, shaking her head.

  “You do know we heard that, right?” Denton states.

  “‘Don’t worry, they’re professionals,’ they told me,” Lynn mutters.

  “Okay, let’s move on,” she says, louder. “So, back to physical traits. The size and weight of the smaller pack appears to be directly related to the traits they had before they transformed.

  “All research and data indicate that the larger Lycans can be up to twenty times stronger than their human counterparts, move quickly, and have a jaw strength of around 2,000 to 2,500 PSI. Just for reference, a full-grown Rottweiler has around 300 and an English Mastiff around 550. This means that you’re probably going to lose whatever it gets a grip on.

  “Their agility and quickness are reported as immense, even blurring to any eye trying to follow. However, this isn’t due to any supernatural trait like the Strigoi’s, just raw speed. They can leap to great heights and across long distances due to their anatomy, which is reported to have enhanced fast-twitch muscles.

  “Now we get to the interesting details. The LPV virus interacts with their biological functions to drastically improve healing, meaning their blood clots faster and wounds heal at an astronomical rate. That comes at the cost of energy though, which weakens them much like the Strigoi.”

  “So, basically, as with the Strigoi, bleeding them puts them in a weakened state,” I say. “Does that go until they feed as well?”

  “Yes, their abilities are weakened while they heal any injuries, but they can sustain a tremendous amount of damage. You saw what the Strigoi could live through. As far as feeding to replenish their strength, that’s not known. They also have a thicker hide that’s difficult to penetrate. Now, keep in mind that the larger they are, the more all of this applies.”

  “It’s hard to kill the little ones, but a bitch to take down the big boys, got it,” I reply, the cartel now seeming like toddlers.

  “That’s pretty much what I’m saying. With regards to hide toughness, our 6.5mm rounds should penetrate just fine…hopefully. But, reading through the data we have, I have serious doubts as to whether a 5.56 will.

  “Now, as you can surely guess, their night sight is unparalleled. Not only that, but their vision in any light is beyond compare. They can operate in almost total darkness and have the ability to detect the smallest shifts in movement. And we all know about the canine sense of smell. Although they prefer the dark hours of the night for hunting, that doesn’t mean they can’t operate during the day, unlike the Strigoi,” Lynn says, finishing her brief.

  “So, if I get all of this correctly, they transform sometime around the full moon, weakening as the new moon approaches, when they change back into their human forms,” I say.

  “Correct,” Lynn replies.

  “And there’s some kind of central pack all focused around a leader, who is much larger.”

  “Again, correct.”

  “Do we know how many in a pack, or does it vary?”

  “From what we know, the size can vary drastically.”

  “How long do they live?”

  “That isn’t known for sure, but some data indicates that they can live for hundreds of years. The virus works with their biology to enhance their life spans.”

  “So, not the thousands of the Strigoi. Do they breed, or can they?”

  “I would have to assume that to be the case. They retain all other functions.”

  “So, they can turn people and possibly also breed. Breeding implies that the children carry the virus, and thus also change. If that’s the case, then it seems to me that we should be looking for an isolated community of people. Is there anything like that in the area we’re concerned about?”

  “Jack, both Idaho and Montana are filled with isolated communities. But before you go any further, there aren’t any that vanish for two weeks at a time, or any in the near vicinity of the disappearances…at least that our recon showed. If there are any, they hide well. We swept the area with thermal imaging and came up with nothing.”

  “What about intelligence? Do they retain human intelligence following their transformation? Are they aware of what they are when they return to being human?”

  Lynn rifles through her notes. “Didn’t I cover that?”

  The team shakes their heads.

  “You covered that they retain knowledge of what they are, but not their intelligence levels,” I mention.

  “Your schoolyard antics knocked me off stride. Here we are,” Lynn says, pulling out a sheet of paper. “‘Above-average animal-like intelligence, cunning with advanced cognitive reasoning skills’; meaning, they can think themselves in and out of situations.

  “I’d say that their human forms have knowledge of their transformations to wolf, but their wolf forms may not necessarily carry the higher level of human intelligence. At the same time, when human, it’s our belief that their canine traits—smell, hearing, and so on—aren’t carried over, at least not to the extent that they possess them in wolf form.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Lynn continues. “They’re remote and probably just feeding on the wildlife in the area. That’s not necessarily a big deal, but there have been increased disappearances and reports of cattle being ravaged on the surrounding ranches. When they encroach on the bubbles of civilization, that’s when we investigate and deal with the situation.”

  “Duly noted. So, let’s get down to the meat of the matter. Say we run into them—how do we take them down? What’s the best method of killing them?” I inquire. “Are we talking about silver bullets?”

  “Silver, working as an antimicrobial, has been noted to be effective to halt their regenerative processes. Keep in mind, that’s only locally, meaning that silver introduced into one wound will only prevent that one wound from healing. It won’t halt the process system-wide. In other words, there has to be a residue of silver actually touching the tissue. Any through and through wound will heal itself, unless the round splits and the splinter or splinters lodge internally.”

  “Fair enough. Do you know how much residue it takes to halt the regen?” I ask.

  “The information I have indicates it wouldn’t take but a trace.”

  “So, you’re saying that a silver-jacketed round lodged in the heart or head would do
the trick? That doesn’t seem so bad,” Gonzalez comments.

  “How did they do it in the past?” McCafferty inquires.

  “That’s the thing. We don’t exactly know. References include silver bullets, canes, and swords. You know, those kinds of things. But, nothing definitive,” Lynn replies.

  “So, what you’re saying is that we’re kind of writing this book as we go merrily along?” I respond.

  “With some things, unfortunately yes. With the Strigoi, we had a source of information. With this, we don’t. Unless anyone here happens to know a werewolf?”

  “Do ex-boyfriends count?” Gonzalez asks.

  “Whew, you have that right.” McCafferty chimes in.

  “So, I’ll take that as a no,” Lynn states. “I want to add this, and this is vital. Lycans can only truly be killed by beheading, removing the heart, or by fire…which essentially does the same thing.”

  “So, a silver round lodged in the heart or brain won’t do it?” Henderson questions.

  “Not according to the knowledge we have. It will immobilize them so the other can be done, but won’t outright kill them,” Lynn answers.

  “Honestly, if I’m hearing correctly, that doesn’t sound so tough. Silver-jacketed rounds on auto into the heart, then down they go and we finish them off,” Denton states.

  “Provided we can penetrate the hide and have the rounds lodge, I agree,” Henderson adds.

  “That would probably work,” Gonzalez says.

  “Remember, they’re fast. Not like Strigoi fast, but near to it,” Lynn cautions.

  “If we worked with hollow points and placed silver behind a plastic cap, along with silver plating, that might enhance the effect,” I comment.

  “What about using explosive rounds laced with silver? I assume we’re going to have to cause a tremendous amount of damage like we did to the Strigoi,” Greg says.

  I’m struck here, as in our previous discussions, by just how easily we’re accepting all of this. We’re sitting around this table talking about how best to deal with werewolves. It’s honestly rather surreal.

  “All of that is well and good, and we can discuss what the best methods are,” I say. “But to me, it may not be so much of a matter of taking them down, if we even can. That part may prove to be the easiest process. Shoot, we can even possibly tag them and let the Spooky have at them. The problem will be getting close in order to do so on our terms. Remember, we’re dealing with creatures that may be able to hear a pin drop and see us coming from miles away. That’s not including their sense of smell. I get the feeling that any encounter will be on their terms, not ours, and that worries me.”

  “What about the nature photographer? Whoever it happened to be was able to get close,” Gonzalez says.

  “Oh, that. That was a camera setup in the wild with a motion-activated shutter. He wasn’t actually there,” Lynn responds.

  “What about a flamethrower?” McCafferty cuts in. “If they go down with fire, why not bring one along?”

  “Unless they’re kind enough to stand still long enough, I have my doubts that a flamethrower will engulf them fast enough. All they have to do is move out of range and the fire will eventually go out and allow them to heal,” Lynn answers. “Besides, effective range would be close proximity, which is not an ideal situation.”

  “I suppose so,” McCafferty concedes, looking a little disappointed.

  “A .50 cal would do it,” Henderson states.

  “Do what?” Lynn inquires.

  “Behead them. Especially if we used exploding ammo. Granted, it’s a touch unwieldy, but if we decide on distance, that would take down the big boy. It wouldn’t be very useful trudging through the woods, but I guess it depends on how we decide to hunt them.”

  “What if we baited them? Cows, elk, or something else chained like we did with the Strigoi. We make sure the area is relatively clear, place the bait, and smear blood all around. Then, when they gather to feed, we bring in the 130 and turn them into hamburger. That worked with the Strigoi. If we could time it correctly with the waning moon, that might work,” Gonzalez suggests.

  “I’m kind of liking the sound of that,” Denton says. “Find an overlook, bait, call in ol’ Spooky while Henderson and I take out any who might find their way to the fringes.”

  “Plus, that keeps us a fair ways from claws and teeth,” Henderson adds.

  “Lynn?” I say, asking for her thoughts.

  “That might be worth a go,” she replies.

  “So, let’s think along those lines. I’d also like to go in with silver-plated rounds, perhaps with silver in hollow points or explosive rounds, phosphorous grenades, and silver-plated knives. We’ll use dry suits to cut down on our odor when actually hunting. Would it be possible to silver-plate the BBs in claymores?”

  “The dry suits and grenades we can do now, but the silver plating will take time. Off the top of my head, I would estimate two weeks,” Lynn replies. “Any other arrangements can be handled fairly quickly, assuming we decide on using cattle. We can hire out helicopter services or have the National Guard drop them in under the pretense of controlling the wolf population.”

  “Fair enough. We can detail a plan and then head to our meeting the day after tomorrow. While we wait for the gear and the correct moon cycle, we can conduct an investigation,” I state.

  “If we’re going down that route, with the exception of planting the devices and staking the bait, do we even need to be on the ground? Couldn’t the Spooky just fly circles overhead to monitor the sensors? When they show up, the werewolves can be verified via onboard cameras and the rain could commence,” Greg comments.

  “Same reason as back in Mexico with the Strigoi. While we’re not facing quite the same danger of creatures racing for a population center, we can’t afford to let the Lycans escape back into the cover of the terrain. We’ll need to take them out in one go—we may not get another shot—so we’ll ring the bait area with claymores. Someone has to be on the ground to trigger those and direct fire if they make it to the tree lines. If we lose them, we may have to resort to tracking them down. So that unfortunately leaves us on the ground with them,” I reply. “I would even suggest the use of implanting trackers if they could be fired from the .50 cal.”

  Turning to Lynn, I continue, “But, the same deal applies. We need a Blackhawk positioned nearby for an emergency exfil. I understand the need for it to be out of our immediate area of operations, but it needs to be close. I don’t want our asses hanging in the wind when everything starts heading south.”

  “Such the pessimist,” Lynn comments, a half smile on her face.

  “Oh, it will go south. Make no mistake about that. When things go right, that’s when I worry. There’s always a variable or two we can only take stabs at and attempt to plan around. We all know that the smallest things can create the greatest disasters. A guard sneezes or chooses to retie their boots at the wrong moment, the shot goes overhead, pinging off whatever is behind them and ricocheting into the distance. The next thing you know, alarms are ringing. I’m not saying we don’t plan well, but when the guard sneezes, I want to be able to get our asses out of there quickly…especially considering what we’re dealing with,” I state. “Maybe we can use the remote ranch fields surrounding the national forest.”

  “It’ll be taken care of, along with the list of equipment we’ll need,” Lynn says.

  “What about poisoning them?” McCafferty suggests.

  “Their regenerative capabilities will handle anything like that. Even if we use agents, any damage done will be quickly healed,” Lynn answers.

  “Okay, everyone. I think we go with the baiting option, much like we did with the Strigoi, and work from there. We have a lot of information to digest, so I suggest we take a break before we get down to actual planning.”

  * * * * * *

  With a detailed map spread across the table, we focus on the area centered around the various confirmed disappearances. It turns out that the
area in question is in Idaho, the edges filtering into Montana, but the boundary lines really don’t mean much. I’m sure the rugged terrain and werewolves don’t care much about our imaginary lines running through the mountains.

  We identify three localities that appear to be what we’re looking for. All have small lakes nestled in small valleys surrounded by open ground. More importantly, they all have nearby rocky cliffs or peninsulas of land overlooking the meadows, which will provide some distance from our trap while being close enough to engage if necessary and to run the claymore wires. With those in mind, we add .50 caliber snipers to our growing list of needs. All in all, this plan is close to the one we developed for the Strigoi.

  The nice thing about the Lycans only being operational for two weeks at a time is that we can set up the area without worrying about interference. Of course, with all of the wilderness, the odds of the werewolves showing up to our specific location are fairly low, thus we’ve chosen multiple sites. Should one turn out to be dry, we’ll move our operation to another during the next new moon and try again.

  We discuss fencing off an area to allow the cattle to roam as there’s plenty of grass and water. The conversation goes back and forth. However we go about it, the trap may come across as contrived. If the cows are staked, that may seem too obvious, the fencing perhaps a more natural environment. And considering the reports of cattle being slaughtered near ranches, the fencing may seem normal to the wolves.

  The difference with this situation as opposed to that with the Strigoi is that the vampires were more aggressive and less likely to care about certain clues that not all was kosher. The Lycans will be more cautious, possibly scouting out any free fast food. Our issue here is that we may be dealing with a wilier creature.

  “The way I see it, it won’t be a matter of keeping up a certain level of firepower. Although it won’t be a cakewalk, it seems they might be easier to kill than the Strigoi. The problem is they’ll be more elusive and difficult to track down,” I say at one point.