Rough Sleepers

by Nem Rowan

  I focused on the faintest of sounds around us, ignoring Ceri's chomping and the creaking of the leather he wore, picking up on the tiny rustle of birds moving in the naked trees and the gnawing of a squirrel somewhere in the evergreens. I could hear another heart beating; it was growing rapid, pounding faster and faster. Breathing steadily and allowing the scent trail to guide me, I followed it off the flagstone path between the headstones, my feet crushing iced-over blades of grass. I tried to tread as softly as possible, and a human might not have heard me coming, but a fellow werewolf would know I was here the moment I stepped through the gates of the cemetery. Closer and closer I moved, to a row of headstones overshadowed by a line of giant conifers where I could hear the heartbeat. My hand instinctively clenched into a fist and I swallowed deeply.

  When I rounded the side of a large monument, I spotted something pale sticking out from behind a gravestone. It withdrew quickly; I realised after a brief moment that it had been a pair of shoeless feet. With fresh determination, I headed towards it slowly. The scent was powerful now, stronger than it had been in the forest, and I knew for certain that I had found the source we had tracked all this way. I approached the tall, flat stone jutting out of the grass, and placing my hand atop it, I bent to see what was on the other side.

  "Don't—don't hurt me!" she cried when she saw me staring down at her, curling tightly and hugging her knees as she shivered violently.

  It was a young girl. She was completely naked, her fair skin smeared with dried blood and remnants of shed fur; her long, dark hair was a straggle of twisted, knotted strands, caught round her ears and across her terrified face. She clutched her skinny legs to her bony torso as if they were a shield to protect her, her eyes wide with fear, her teeth chattering and tears leaking down her reddened cheeks. I bent cautiously to her eye level, crouching before her.

  "Christine?" I whispered, not because I didn't want Ceri to hear us, but in case someone else might. She looked up at me quickly, trembling.

  "How do you know my name?" she sniffled, her expression becoming strained as she struggled to control her tears.

  "I'm a friend of yer mum's. My name's Leon. Me and my friend, Ceri, we were looking for you," I told her as I began to unbutton my duffle coat. "Come here sweetie, you must be freezing."

  She whimpered, gratefully accepting the warm garment as I moved forward to put it round her shoulders; she allowed me to help her pull it round herself, slipping her thin arms inside it and pulling it down over her legs. I could tell she was still wary of me, and rightly so.

  "I—I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to kill that...woman...out there, in the woods, I didn't mean it," she stammered. Her bloodshot eyes were filled with terror and shame; she looked so vulnerable, I just wanted to grab her and hug her tightly. My nose kept twitching, the instinctual desire to sniff her scent urging me forward, but I restrained myself, not wanting to frighten her even more than she already was.

  "I know, sweetheart. Listen, you're gonna have to come with me and Ceri now. Ceri can help you. I'm like you are, see. When the full moon comes," I told her gently. "It's not safe for you to be out with other people at this time of the month. You'd end up doing again what ya did last night."

  "I didn't mean to do it..." she mumbled, droplets breaking free of her eyelashes and running down her face.

  "I'm gonna call for Ceri, okay?" I tilted my head to try and make eye contact with her. She nodded miserably, so I rose to my feet and looked out across the sea of headstones. Ceri was standing on the path, gazing in my direction, and when he saw me stand, he started towards me.

  "Have you found them?" he mouthed silently as he approached.

  "It's Christine," I replied, to which he seemed surprised. "She's naked and covered in blood."

  Ceri stepped around the headstone to look down at her, his tongue pushing the wad of tobacco down into his cheek as his eyes half-closed. He crouched down before her, but she shied away, clutching the edges of my coat in her delicate hands.

  "Listen to me, Christine. We can help you, but you have to come with us. You've gotta trust us, we're not gonna hurt you, all right? Are you aware that you're a werewolf?" he asked her calmly.

  "A werewolf?" she repeated, seeming momentarily dazed.

  Ceri looked up at me, and I sighed, my breath clouding from my parted lips.

  "Come on. Let's get her out of here before the coppers catch us. We can ask questions later." I tugged on the lapel of his jacket.

  "All right. You two stay by yere and I'll fetch the car." He rose to his feet again.

  Rather than sending him back through the woods, I told him the directions back to the street where the car was parked; not only would it be a quicker route, but it was certainly less muddy. I waited with Christine in the cemetery, keeping on the look out should anyone appear. She allowed me to rub some of the blood off her face with a handkerchief dipped in an icy puddle, and we fought to untangle some of her hair so that it could at least be tied back in a ponytail.

  It seemed an age we waited for Ceri to return, and I spent the whole time worrying we would be discovered here. I mean, what wasn't suspicious about a homeless person accompanying a naked, blood-covered girl in a churchyard? We stayed away from the front gates and I only hoped the vicar didn't turn up. Christine was quiet except for the chattering of her teeth. Occasionally, she looked up at me as if trying to figure out whether I was friend or foe, so I simply smiled down at her and she soon smiled back. She looked so small and fragile, completely different to the girl in the photograph that her mother had given us, and I wondered what had happened to her after she had disappeared. I knew that Ceri would probably interrogate her at some point, so I decided not to ask her myself.

  When Ceri finally appeared again, I had never been so happy to see him. We escorted Christine to the car and she climbed into the back seat, relieved to be out of the cold and instead in the warmth generated by the car's heaters.

  "Coppers coming this way," Ceri commented as we pulled away and drove along the street leading out to the main road.

  "Where?" I looked to my left, and as we turned the corner, a police car approached, it's indicators flashing to turn onto the street we were leaving from.

  "Don't look at them. Christine, can you get down please?" Ceri requested coolly, so she slid down in the back seat, her head almost submerging into the neck of my coat and leaving only her eyes and the top of her head peeking out.

  The policemen in the front seats appeared not to notice us as they passed. Perhaps we were being silly; what reason did they have to suspect us? They were looking for a dangerous animal, not a dangerous human. Still, we breathed a sigh of relief once we were back amongst the traffic and far from the scene of the crime.

  However, there was tension in the atmosphere when we returned to Mecky's house. On the journey back, Christine had asked if she could go back to her family, a question that neither of us had an adequate answer for. My emotional desire was to tell her yes, to send her back to see them, but I could see from the awkward look in Ceri's eyes that his answer was no. When neither of us spoke, she started to cry, and it was hard for me to keep my mouth shut and let her carry on, so I climbed into the back seat, giving her a hug and comforting her.

  In terms of appearance, she was the complete opposite of Amy, who had been quite plump even as a small child, but her age and her pitiful behaviour roused my natural mothering instinct, causing me to want to care for her even though we barely knew each other. She was just a child after all, a fifteen-year-old girl who had gotten herself into some serious trouble. It wasn't her fault. Ceri, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling with the situation and chose to remain silent in the driver's seat, focusing on the changing traffic lights and the route back home. When we arrived, we had to sneak Christine through the rear entrance, ensuring no one visiting Mecky's shop saw her in her current state, and it was only when she was shut in the bathroom upstairs that Ceri took me to one side to speak to me.

&nb
sp; "You can't go promising her that she can see her mammy, you understand?" He poked a finger in my chest as we stood in the hallway of the middle floor. "Don't go putting false hope in her little mind. If we can't get rid of the curse, she might never see her family again."

  "There's nothing wrong with giving the poor girl a bit of hope. Don't be such a miserable old wanker all the time." I frowned. I didn't like the way he was looking at me, his eyes staring accusingly, and his mouth pressed into a thin line. It made me feel like I was stupid and irrational, when in my mind my behaviour had been perfectly logical.

  "When she asked if she could see her mammy, you said maybe. You can't do that. It'll only be worse when she realises she can't," he explained.

  "So what am I supposed to do? Tell her no?" I glared, my hand resting on my hip as I stared right back at him. "If you're so smart, why don't you try telling her, then, huh? How would you feel, being a young kid and being told you can't see your mum anymore? Ending up homeless with nowhere to go, hoping for the kindness of a bunch of strangers?"

  His mouth had been open, ready to counter my argument, but it quickly closed. His scowl softened, his brows slanted, and I got the feeling I had struck upon a raw nerve. Suddenly, he couldn't make eye contact with me, and instead he turned abruptly away, preventing me from seeing his expression. I hesitated, knowing the nerve I had struck must have been an especially painful one, because even when I lifted my hand to reach out to him, he stepped away.

  "Ceri, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice grave with concern.

  "Nothing." He shook his head, and then he turned and began walking off along the hallway. "I'm going out. I'll be back later."

  "Ceri, stop it. Come here, I wanna speak to you." I followed him to the banister, but he was already several feet ahead of me and he ignored me, jogging off down the stairs. I called after him, knowing I couldn't very well leave Christine on her own. "Ceri! I'm not stupid, I can tell something's wrong! Don't ignore me, you jerk!"

  The response I got was the sound of the backdoor slamming.

  "Fine, run away, you big wimp! Damn," I cursed, slapping my hand down on the rail before turning and looking back along the hall.

  Why did men always do that? Just run away at the first sign of emotional vulnerability? It drove me spare, it really did. What he didn't know was that I had lost my mum when I was a kid, too. She had struggled with drug abuse for as long as I could remember, and although she had kicked the habit by the time Pete came onto the scene, our poverty and the bullying I received at school was enough to send her straight back to her old tricks. Pete knew what she was up to, and he tried to make her stop. But it wasn't enough. I knew how it felt to be separated from a parent, and if Ceri had lost his parents too, why was he running away from me? Why wouldn't he talk to me about it? He kept everything personal and private, tucked up tight and not revealing anything to me, perhaps not even with Mecky either. I was torn between being angry at him and feeling sorry for him. Sighing and muttering under my breath, I decided to head downstairs and look for Mecky.

  Ten

  "Ceri is making werewolf collection now?" Mecky smirked as she leaned against the counter, the mug of cocoa in her hands overflowing with whipped cream.

  "Certainly looks that way," I agreed.

  Both of us watched over Christine, who was now fresh-faced and no longer smelling of death, while she ate a plate of beans on toast. I sat beside her with my own mug of hot chocolate, feeling rather achy from having been out in the cold all morning. Mecky had given her some of her pyjamas to wear and the trousers and sleeves were far too long as she was much shorter. It was fast approaching three o'clock and there was still no sign of Ceri. I hadn't mentioned our disagreement to Mecky, but she appeared to pick up on the fact that something was unsettled, because when I told her Ceri had gone out somewhere, she simply smiled at me and nodded. I was tempted to ask her if he had done this to her before, just run off when confronted with some emotional hardship, but that would mean admitting to her that we had argued. I also didn't think bringing up dead relatives and family separation would be a good idea, not just in front of Christine, but also because of Mecky's loss, too. Funny how we had all experienced loss of some kind.

  "You are still hungry? I cook more for you?" Mecky asked Christine as she finished scraping the last of the baked beans onto her fork.

  "Oh—oh no, thank you," she smiled, a sad little smile. "I'm pretty full now."

  "I make hot chocolate for you," Mecky declared, and as she turned to fetch the milk from the fridge, I winked at Christine.

  "She never takes no for an answer, so don't even bother trying," I whispered to her behind my hand.

  "I hear you speak of me." Mecky hummed in the background and we both chuckled. "Werewolf has good ears. Mecky know when she is speaking about by other people."

  "I was just saying how you don't listen when someone says no to you," I said, and she chuckled too then.

  "No, I don't," she agreed, grinning across at Christine as she poured milk into a large mug. "I am mother still, I do not change. Mother never listen."

  "I didn't realise you had kids," Christine answered, seeming confused as to why she hadn't seen any running around.

  "I have son once, but he is kill by werewolf," Mecky replied simply. "But the mother inside never go away."

  "Oh... That's sad... I'm sorry, I didn't know," Christine bowed her head, seeming embarrassed that she had brought it up.

  "Dobrze. Not your fault. You have brother and sister? Mama and papa?" Mecky asked.

  "A brother." She nodded, and I remembered the boy that had taken Ceri and I up in the lift to meet Sandra in their cluttered flat.

  "Darren, isn't it?" I answered, and Christine nodded.

  "Yeah, he's my younger brother. And I have my mum and dad, and my gran." She seemed to sadden again at their mention. "Leon, can I really see my family soon? I heard... I heard you arguing with Ceri earlier, and..."

  "Ah-ha..." Mecky remarked over the sound of the microwave humming, and I was unable to stop my cheeks from colouring. Christine must have heard every word we had said. Stupid Ceri for not realising how loud he was talking. Stupid Leon for forgetting the girl was a werewolf, too.

  "We weren't arguing, honey. We were just, ya know, having a chat." I was awkward. I took another sip of warm cocoa.

  "He is like to run away after argument, all the time." Mecky shrugged. The microwave pinged, and she took out the steaming mug, giving it a stir as she added a few spoonfuls of cocoa powder. "He is running from me when we have argue. Ceri afraid of bad emotion."

  "I said, we weren't arguing," I repeated, raising my eyebrows at Mecky, but she just smirked at me and shrugged. "Okay, well, we did argue a little. But, he was pissed off at me, so I defended myself. He told me off for saying you can see your family again, and I don't think I'm wrong, but I just wanna be realistic with you, all right Chris?"

  "No, I understand. I mean, I don't wanna be at home on the full moon." She nodded slowly, although to acknowledge this seemed painful for her. Her bottom lip trembled and at first, I thought she might cry again, but fortunately Mecky distracted her with a mug topped by a mountain of cream and marshmallows.

  "No cry now," she told her as she stroked the top of her head.

  Seeing how fragile Christine still was, I decided not to mention Wallace Reed. I decided not to talk to her about how if we didn't find him and kill him, we couldn't break the curse, and if we couldn't do that, she couldn't see her family anymore. Now was not a good time. Instead, Mecky and I took her into the living room where we watched some light-hearted television and waited for Ceri to materialise. I started to get worried at four o'clock as it was showing signs of getting dark, the thick cloud cover outside unleashing new torrents of swirling snowflakes upon the roofs of the city.

  Mecky was confident that Ceri would be back in time, so I tried not to think about it. Instead, we talked to Christine about what would happen when night fell, that we would all drink t
he disgusting medicine before we transformed so that we could be sedated, and Ceri would chain us up and lock us in the basement. Christine seemed relieved to have us for company. I knew how lonely it was to be an isolated werewolf, not fully understanding what I was or how to control it, moving from place to place, slaughter to slaughter. It was the first time Christine had transformed, or at least that was the impression she gave. She was reluctant to talk about how she had become one of us, so we tiptoed around the subject instead.

  Finally, there was the sound of the back door opening downstairs and I jumped up off the sofa, hurrying out of the room and leaving Mecky alone with Christine so that I could go and confront the weary traveller. Mecky sensed that it was something I needed to resolve alone. I appreciated that she could pick up on things that required no language to communicate; that was something I preferred about having female friends. Men never seemed to get it, and god forbid you tried to do it in public because your cover would get blown instantly.

  Ceri was swiping heaps of powdery snow from the shoulders of his jacket as he stood in the store room; his shoes were plastered with clumps of ice and his nose and cheeks were bright red. He glanced up when he saw me approaching, only to quickly, sheepishly, look away.

  "Where have you been, then?" I questioned as I stopped in front of him. Ice from his shoes had fallen on the tiled floor and my toes landed in a puddle but I didn't care.

  "I said, I went out." He grunted, refusing to look at me.

  "You can stop that right now, you got that? Stop it. It don't take a fucking genius to work out what happened earlier, do it?" I frowned at him. It was so hard to stay angry at him, though. He looked so cold and bedraggled, like a scruffy stray dog.

  "Look, I'm sorry if I was a bit sharp with you earlier," he admitted awkwardly, instead focusing on pulling his gloves off his hands.