Destiny of the Last Wolf

by Amy Cross

  "What?" she asks, sounding like she's falling asleep again.

  "How did you end up out of the car?" I repeat. "Come on, Anna, keep talking to me. Why weren't you in the car?"

  "I fell out," she says. "No, wait..." She pauses. "I jumped out."

  "Because it was going to crash?"

  "No," she says, her voice getting even more slurry, "it crashed because I jumped out. I don't really remember."

  "It's a miracle you're still alive," I say. I wait for her to respond. "Anna?" Nothing. She's still alive, but she's slipped back into unconsciousness. I keep walking, trying to think if there's any way I can give her a better chance of survival. The one option I do have is to turn her into a werewolf, but that's something I've very much against. After all, it's a rare event for a human to be given such an honor, and personally I'm completely against it. Humans are... not to be trusted. They're weak and disloyal. They should be kept at arm's length, and allowing one to become a werewolf would be wrong. I'd rather let this Anna girl die than break my moral code when it comes to transformations.

  Eventually we reach the main road. It's late at night now, and there aren't many cars around. Street-lights illuminate the road, so I wait until there are no cars and then I step out and place Anna's body directly in the middle of the carriageway. Realizing there's a danger she might get run over by accident, I spot a car heading our way and I decide to wait. When it's close enough, I start waving to get the driver's attention, and finally, as the car slows down, I turn and run off the road and back into the surrounding darkness.

  I wait in the undergrowth, watching as the driver gets out of his car and goes over to look at Anna. He kneels down and seems to be checking her pulse, and then he goes back to his car, climbs in... and drives away! He just leaves Anna where she is. Typical human.

  "Fucker!" I shout after him, heading back up onto the road. I check Anna's pulse. She's still alive, so I guess that guy just didn't want to bother helping her. There's another car coming this way, though, so I pull the same trick again: I wave the car down, and then I run. This time, I'm in luck: the occupants of the car are a man and a woman who immediately start checking to see how they can help Anna. It looks like she's going to be given good care, so I turn and head off into the darkness, switching to my wolf form so that I can get away faster. I'm sure the humans, if they saw me, will assume that I was about to attack Anna. They'll probably tell people that they saved her from a savage beast. That's what humans are like. They all think they're better than any other species, even though in many cases they're actually the worst of the worst.

  That night, though, my hunting skills seem to be a little awry. No matter what I do, I can't seem to sneak up on any rabbits, and I can't even find any foxes. This isn't usually a problem for me, but something's not clicking. I stalk the wilderness, desperately hoping that I'll finally manage to catch something, but it's as if I'm not really myself tonight. I have no idea how, but that Anna girl really got under my skin, and I find myself wondering how she's doing and whether she's going to survive. There's a part of me that wants to go to the local hospitals and track her down, to see if the doctors managed to save her, but I know that'd be a mistake. The worst thing for me to do right now would be to get involved with a human. Maybe she'll live, maybe she won't. It doesn't make any difference to me. We're from two different worlds. I have to forget about her. Besides, she was so badly hurt, I doubt she made it. She's probably dead already, stored away in a freezer while they start searching for the rest of her family. Considering their car is wrecked in the middle of nowhere, their bodies might not be found for months.

  Jess

  Tonight.

  "What's wrong?" asks the guy sitting at the next table. As he stares at me, he takes a sip of his cup of coffee, spilling some of it down his chin.

  I'm in an all-night cafe close to Tottenham Court Road. It's 3am, still dark outside, and the changeover has started. The changeover is that period when the people who've been partying all night start heading home, and the people who work early shifts start hitting the streets. While there are still plenty of drunk people staggering about, there are also workers in orange uniforms starting to sweep away the garbage. Delivery lorries are backing into the rear entrance of stores, and the late night buses are slowly making way for the regular red double-deckers.

  "Nothing," I say, not making eye contact with the guy who - out of nowhere - has suddenly decided to try talking to me. I guess he thinks I'm just another drunk person who had a bad night and has come to this cafe to try and sober up a little. There are plenty of others dotted around the place, including a girl at the window who looks a bit like me. She's crying, with dark mascara running down her face. She probably got dumped by some guy. There's part of me that really wishes my problems were so simple, but then again, maybe they are.

  The really crazy thing is that the girl reminds me of Sam. I met Sam shortly after I came to London. We were starting to become friends, and she was showing me around the city and helping me get to know people. Then she died, killed by some kind of creature. At first I assumed it was Duncan, but then I realized it was just someone who was trying to frame werewolves for a series of deaths. I guess I didn't get to know Sam very well, but her death hit me hard and made me feel like the world was a darker place.

  "Doesn't look like nothing," says the guy, suddenly moving over to my table. He's grinning like an idiot, and he looks really dodgy. I know what he wants. He's not getting it. "You want to come back to my place?" he asks. "Sleep it off?"

  "Leave her alone!" a voice calls out. To my surprise, I see the girl from the window wandering over.

  "Fuck off," the guy says.

  "Seriously," she replies. "Leave her alone."

  "Or what?" he asks, turning to sneer at her.

  "Or this," she says, suddenly throwing some kind of white powder over him. He falls off his chair, scratching at his eyes, and the girl turns and runs to the door. Instinctively, I get up and run after her, and we emerge on the street.

  "Hey!" I shout, grabbing her arm and pulling her back towards me. "What the fuck was that?"

  "Salt," she says, smiling. "His eyes'll be stinging for hours."

  I look back and see the cafe owner helping the guy up from the floor. "No kidding," I say, turning back to the girl. "Thanks."

  "He's an asshole," the girl says. "I see him out every night, trying to get girls back to his flat. Sometimes they're stupid enough to go with him."

  "What happens to them?" I ask.

  She laughs. "He makes them a nice drink to help them sleep, and when they wake up, they have a bad headache and a sore ass." She pauses. "Trust me, I know."

  There's something about this girl that I like. She seems resilient, like she's learned to just deal with the crap that life throws at her. No-one would ever call her a 'good girl'. "Jess," I say, reaching out a hand.

  "Sam," she replies, deliberately not shaking my hand.

  "Sam?" I ask, surprised.

  "What?" she says. "You don't like people called Sam?"

  "No, it's not that," I say, "I just... I used to know someone called Sam, that's all."

  "Let me guess," she replies, "this other Sam died a horrible and painful death right before your eyes?"

  "Pretty much," I say.

  She smiles. "Cool. Come on, we'd better get out of here."

  I look back at the cafe and see the guy starting to stagger towards the door. His eyes are red, and he looks mad.

  "Come on!" Sam shouts, starting to run. I follow and we head along the street, and then down an alley.

  "Do you live on the streets?" I ask when we finally stop to catch our breath.

  "No," she says, "I live in a big mansion nearby. We've got loads of servants and stuff." She smiles. "Yeah, I live on the streets. It's really not so bad once you..." She pauses. "Actually, it's pretty bad." She stares at me for a moment. "So, this other Sam, do I remind you of her? Did she look like me?"

  "A bit," I say, st
ill a little spooked by the whole thing.

  "Cool," she replies. "How did she die?"

  "Honestly?" I say. "She got her guts ripped out by a... I don't know, some kind of wild animal."

  Sam stares at me. "Are you joking?" she asks eventually.

  I shake my head.

  "That's very cool," she says after a moment. "Was she alive when it happened?"

  "I think so," I say.

  "Wow." She pauses. "That must be intensely painful. If I had to go, I think I'd like it to be something like that."

  "You really wouldn't," I say. Looking at Sam, I realize that in some ways everything has come full circle. A couple of years ago, I was living on the streets of London, hanging out with a girl named Sam, and now here I am again. The only difference is that this time, I'm a werewolf and I've seen a bit more of the world.

  "So what's wrong?" Sam asks. "Why were you sitting in that cafe alone, looking like everything's wrong?" She smiles. "Man trouble?"

  "No!" I say, and then I realize that it is man trouble. Duncan basically dumped me. God knows what he's doing right now. Maybe he's down in that tunnel, crushing Thomas Lumic; or maybe he's the one being crushed, and he just didn't want me to see him die. Or did he actually think I'd follow him? Was he assuming that I'd be so loyal, I'd go down into the tunnel after him? Did I let him down?

  "Bullshit," Sam says. "I can see it in your eyes. Man trouble. Or girl trouble. One of the two. Someone's fucked you over."

  "I guess," I say. "But it's really not what you think, and I really don't want to talk about it." I smile. It's a fake smile, but I guess it's necessary. "Trust me," I say, "you really wouldn't believe the kind of day I've had."

  "You wouldn't believe the kind of day I've had," she replies. "I broke up with my boyfriend, had sex with two other guys to get over it, got drunk, sobered up, smashed a shop window, did some other stuff I don't want to talk about, blew another guy, and then I met you in that cafe. Does your day really beat that?"

  I pause. "No," I say finally. "I guess not."

  She smiles. I guess she needs to feel like she's somehow had a harder time than I've had, which is fine. I don't need to get into some kind of competition. "You want to come back to my place?" she asks. "I'm staying in a place nearby, it's warm and dry and I can guarantee there are no assholes there. Apart from me, obviously."

  "Sure," I say. "Thanks."

  As we walk towards her 'place', I can't help thinking about how strange it is for me to be leaving one world and entering another. This time yesterday, I was living the life of a werewolf, running towards London with Duncan, preparing to face Thomas Lumic and whatever evil he can bring to life; now I'm wandering the streets with some girl I've just met. It's amazing how quickly things can change, and how quickly the world can seem to shift on its axis. I guess my time with Duncan really, really is over. Funny, there were times when I thought Duncan and I made a good team, and that we'd hang out together. There were even times when I thought he might have feelings for me, and when I thought I had feelings for him.

  "So what's his name?" Sam asks.

  "Who?"

  "The guy," she says. "Or girl. There's always a guy or girl when someone looks sad like you."

  I take a deep breath as we keep walking. "Duncan," I say eventually.

  "Dick?" she asks.

  "It's complicated," I say.

  She laughs. "That's what they all say," she replies. "They're all complicated."

  We walk on in silence. Somehow, I think Duncan's a little more complicated than Sam could ever imagine. I don't think I ever really got to understand him.

  Duncan

  1972 - London.

  "Humans aren't so fucking bad," Hamish says. "Lighten up, Duncan, for fuck's sake."

  We're standing in the kitchen of a small apartment in South London. It's 2am, there's loud music thumping in the next room, and somehow Hamish has persuaded me to come and experience a human party. Everyone's drunk, some of them are even high on various substances, and the whole night seems to be descending into an orgy of anarchic human celebration. In other words: this whole place is making me feel nauseous.

  "You need another drink," Hamish says, pressing a bottle into my hand and popping the cap off. "Drink, man. You'll have fun."

  "I was having fun," I say. It's true. I was spending most of my time around the edge of the city, exploring the urban wastelands while keeping myself at arms' length from the human world. I had no intention of going closer. My curiosity was sated simply by seeing the remains of human actions, and I didn't feel the need to actually engage with humans. "I was fine," I add, feeling rather aggrieved that Hamish seems to see himself as my 'savior' in some way. "When you turned up last week and asked me to come to London with you, I was having a lot of fun."

  "You were hunting fluffy bunnies," Hamish says. "That's no life for a werewolf. We have to get out there, man. We have to really start living." At that moment, an admittedly attractive human female walks past, wearing the shortest skirt I've ever seen. Hamish can't take his eyes off her. "Fuck it," he says, "did you see that? Are you seriously saying there's nothing here that interests you?"

  "I'm seriously saying that," I reply. The truth is, I find humans to be pretty irrelevant. Their parties don't excite me, and most of them are dull and self-absorbed. Sure, I've occasionally met a few nice humans over the years, but they're the exceptions that prove the rule.

  "What about her?" Hamish asks, pointing at another attractive girl who walks into the room. She's topless, her breasts exposed for all to see. "Wouldn't you like to -"

  "No," I say. "I really wouldn't."

  "But look at her, man. Everything hanging out. She's just waiting for a guy to go up to her and have the balls to show her what he wants. Are you seriously saying you wouldn't want to get hot and sweaty with a beauty like her."

  "Really, really not," I say.

  "Well, I fucking would," he says. "Seeya later." With that, he heads over to the girl and, to my complete surprise, he quickly starts a conversation with her. I watch as they talk. It's so effortless for Duncan. He knows how to just go up to humans and put them at ease. Moments later, I watch as the girl takes him by the hand and leads him out of the room. I sigh, realizing what they're going to go and do, and I decide that standing alone in the kitchen is really not my idea of fun. It's one thing to be the brooding figure in the corner of the room, but it's another to just be standing there with nothing to do. The human world can be so mind-numbingly empty and pointless sometimes.

  Heading through to the front room, I see nothing but a huge gang of people dancing and talking. Again, it seems the complete antithesis of fun to me. However, I guess that's just further proof that humans and werewolves are fundamentally different creatures. Rather than trying to conform to human mores, the way Duncan is conforming, I'd prefer to just go about my life in my own way. I don't mind humans having parties like this, I just don't want to be dragged along and forced to try to have fun. Sighing, I decide that if Hamish doesn't come back within the next half hour, I'll just turn around and leave. There are plenty of other things to be doing in a city like this.

  Feeling someone tap me on the shoulder, I turn with relief at the thought that Hamish already finished.

  But it's not Hamish.

  It's her.

  It's Anna.

  Although it has been three years since our brief meeting, I recognize her immediately. In truth, her face has haunted me ever since I left her on the middle of that busy road. She's gained a little weight, and her hair has a red streak at the front, but it's definitely her; I can tell from the look in her eyes. I can't explain what it is about her that makes me feel this way, but it's as if she left a part of herself in my mind. I've never quite been able to forget her.

  "It's you, isn't it?" she says, her eyes wide open in astonishment. She reaches out and touched my shoulder. "Fuck, you're real."

  "I am," I say, my mind racing. I want to get out of here, to get away from her.r />
  "I thought..." She pauses. "I thought... I..."

  Panicking, I turn and hurry out of the room, pushing my way past other party guests and finally emerging in the street. It's strange, but I feel completely thrown by the sight of Anna, so much so that I'm shocked at my own reaction. I turn, expecting to find her right behind me, but she's not there. Did I imagine it? I'm not sure whether that would be worse: the idea that I'm hallucinating isn't exactly welcome. Whatever the truth, I figure I just have to get out of here. Spending time among humans is an awful idea, and I need to run. Taking a deep breath, I decide I really don't need to hang around here any longer.

  Suddenly Anna appears from the doorway, staring at me.

  "What do you want?" I ask, already angry at myself for acknowledging her.

  "It is you," she says, stepping towards me. She looks as if she's completely in awe of me, as if she doesn't really believe I'm here. "I thought... Damn it, am I hallucinating?" She turns to a man who's smoking a cigarette nearby. "Hey! Damon! Do you see me talking to a guy here?"

  The guy nods, pointing straight at me. He looks completely wasted.

  "So I'm not hallucinating you," Anna says, turning back to me. "Unless I'm also hallucinating him, in which case I'm pretty fucked anyway." She smiles. "You saved my life."

  Clearing my throat, I try to work out what to say. "Yeah," I say.

  "What's wrong with you?" she asks.

  "With me?" I reply, shocked.

  "You're acting like you're really... really uncomfortable. Is there something you don't like about me?"

  "No," I say. This is insane. Usually, when I don't like someone I just walk away from them, but there's something about Anna that makes me want to stay and talk to her even though she makes me uncomfortable.

  "Then..." She smiles as she stares at me. I don't know what she wants, and it's quite clear that she wants something. "Okay," she says finally. "You know what? I just wanted to say hello, and to thank you for saving me, and... That's all. Really. So... thank you, and goodbye." She steps back towards the doorway, with a kind of sad look in her eyes.