The Wolves of Third Clan

by Matt Rogers

  Chapter 4

  “How are you feeling?” Trudy asked.

  “Better than I’ve ever felt before. Is this normal?”

  “Yes. It’s the bloodletting which does it.”

  “What exactly was the bloodletting?”

  “Well, in a nutshell, we combined our blood together.”

  I must’ve given the proper impression of being confused because she went on.

  “It’s like a modern-day blood transfusion from a dialysis machine. After we put you under we inserted a needle into one of your arteries and another in a vein, then did the same to the four of us, attached IV lines and let our bodies do the rest. Your blood flowed into my body, then George’s, then Philip’s and finally Vivian’s whose blood was already flowing into yours. Essentially we were all sharing blood for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “About two hours.”

  “You’re saying I’ve got your blood in me?”

  “Yes. Does that bother you?”

  “You’d think it would but for some reason I feel fine with it.”

  “Good, because so do we.”

  “Is this like a bonding ritual or something?”

  “It’s more. We’ve become, quite literally, a family bound by the same blood.”

  “Is that why I feel the way I do to you.”

  “Yes, and we to you, Johnny.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yes, it is cool.”

  “Okay, before, you said I was some kind of Cloak. What’s a Cloak?”

  “Well, it’s a little deep but I’ll try and give the short version. Vivian and I are Vampires but we’re not the creatures you read about in myth. We’re basically humans with advanced immune systems. What would take them months to recover from we can do so in minutes. Our antibodies are carried by our blood but they have one flaw; other Vampires and Werewolves can detect it. A Cloak is someone whose blood has the ability to hide our presence from others of our kind. You are essentially a walking, talking camouflage system for us.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. You were why I couldn’t detect Melissa when she entered the office. To me you were just four ordinary humans” Trudy said.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

  “What was with the knife thing? Was it a test or something?”

  “Yes. I was pretty sure you were a Cloak but I didn’t know if you were working with Melissa or not so you were placed in the position of revealing yourself.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand?”

  “You have the ability to cloak because your blood gives off a neutral scent but we can still detect other changes in your body which would tell us if you were hiding something.”

  “Still lost.”

  “If you were in on Melissa’s plan your body’s subconscious system would’ve betrayed you when you moved toward Vivian with the knife. Your heart rate, respirations and blood pressure would’ve increased, we would’ve noticed and you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Oh, but Melissa was able to attack Peter North; didn’t he have your abilities to detect her subconscious systems?”

  “He did but my kind can control our internal functions.”

  “But me…?”

  “Not so well.”

  “So Melissa was…?”

  “A Vampire.”

  “And Peter North was…?”

  “A Werewolf. All Vampires are female, all Werewolves male. We’re the same species but evolved differently according to gender. Werewolves have more testosterone than Vampires, add in their advanced immune system and they became much stronger and more aggressive than us. We Vamps, on the other hand, are nowhere near as strong so we evolved down a different path. We can change the pigment of our skin to fade into the background.”

  “That explains the disappearing act in the room.”

  “Yes. Come, walk with me.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To Peter’s office. We need to figure out what to do with the bodies.”

  You know, I couldn’t believe I forgot about them.

  “This is utterly disgusting” Vivian said with a wrinkle of her cute little nose.

  “Found another piece of skull” Phillip responded.

  We’d been cleaning the aftermath of Melissa’s rampage for about fifteen minutes and I was amazed at my initial reaction which was strangely indifferent. I may not be a tree-hugging liberal but I thought I’d have some sort of adverse reaction to the destruction of human life but, apparently, I was wrong. I didn’t revel in the gory mess but I didn’t wretch at the scene either. It was a bit strange because I’d known two of those people for over three months. I may not have formed a lasting friendship with them but I sure didn’t wish ill upon them. Okay, maybe a little on Bob when he did the sales-pitch pep-rally thing but it wasn’t really directed at him, more at the stupid ritual in general, he was just the mooch who insisted on implementing it. The weirdest thing in the room was the difference in the amount of violence involved. Both Bob and Steve were basically whole, looking vaguely serene lying on the ground as if asleep which I guess they were if by asleep you meant resting for a very, very, very long time. Peter, on the other hand, was a mangled mess. He was essentially in two parts; everything below his head and a mass of shattered fragments above. I don’t know what type of bullets she used but whatever they were if their aim was to completely blow the crap out of whatever they hit then their manufacturers can stick out their chests and hold their chins high because they succeeded spectacularly.

  “Um, I think I’ve got an eyeball” I said.

  “I’ve got the brain stem” announced Trudy.

  “Pituitary gland” Phillip said while holding up what looked like a gelatinous glob of goo.

  We hunted around the room on the morbid scavenger hunt for what seemed like a good hour, putting pieces of Peter’s head in a trash bag and discussing what went wrong.

  “I should’ve done a more thorough check on their identities” George said.

  “I don’t see how you could. Bob had the website and I don’t think Melissa would’ve even come up on the radar” responded Vivian.

  “What are you guys talking about” I butted in.

  “We run pre-screening checks to insure what happened never happens” she replied.

  “Why? Do you have a lot of enemies?”

  When she paused and smiled I wondered if that was going to be her only answer but then her face got serious and she continued.

  “I don’t think enemies is the correct term; more like opposing teams playing a game with very high stakes and serious consequences if you lose.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Vampires and Werewolves have been around forever and we’ve been playing the game of territory from the beginning.”

  “Huh?”

  “A predator must have enough prey in his territory to survive. Too many predators and the prey will dwindle until there’s not enough to live on” George said.

  “And people are the prey.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “So other Vampires are trying to butt in on your turf.”

  “And other Werewolves” he answered.

  “How many others?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “How big a territory are we talking here?”

  “The Dallas/Ft. Worth Metroplex.”

  “What? That’s like a bazillion miles in diameter!”

  “I think you might be exaggerating a little.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m terrible at distance. Are you saying you need four million people in your territory to survive?”

  “Yes, but not for the reason you think.”

  “No?”

  “No, we don’t need Humans anywhere near so much. The problem is one of sustainable, unexplained absences.”

  “And only so many missing-persons cases are acceptable to law enforcement?” I inquired.

  �
��Exactly. Too many people disappear and the police start to look in places we don’t want them looking.”

  We left and were driving up the annoyingly confusing Interstate 35 East with three dead bodies in the back of a king-size, four-door pickup truck when it dawned on me.

  “Hey guys, I forgot to say this earlier but I’m really sorry about your loss.”

  “Thanks, Johnny. Peter will be missed” said Phillip.

  “And your twin brother too. I had no idea she was going to shoot through the door.”

  The four of them laughing was not the response I expected.

  “He wasn’t my twin brother.”

  “Seriously? You could’ve fooled me. I guess it was hectic but I swear he looked just like you. By the way, where’s his body?”

  And all four of them laughed again. You know how it is when you’re the odd man out on an inside joke but you don’t want to admit you don’t know what’s funny so you go ahead and laugh?

  YES.

  Yeah, well I didn’t because I figured out the punch line about one-millionth of a second after they started giggling like schoolchildren.

  “The body was yours, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh” Phillip smiled back.

  “You were shot in the head.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you’re still alive.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Without a mark on you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Stop saying ‘uh-huh’.”

  “Okay” he said with the same cheese-eating grin.

  “Johnny, remember when I said we’re basically Humans with an advanced immune system?” asked Trudy.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, healing is a part of it.”

  “But you were shot in the brain” I said to Phillip.

  “True.”

  “In… the …brain.”

  “Okay, It’s true I was shot in the head but the damage wasn’t sufficient enough to overcome my body’s survival process. Almost immediately after I was shot my brain began healing itself with help from my Endocrine system.”

  “Your what?”

  “My glands. Anyway, I guess the best way to explain is look at the difference between what happened to me and what happened to Peter.”

  “He stayed dead.”

  “Exactly, he stayed dead. Do you know why?”

  “Because he was shot in the brain.”

  “True again. But that’s not why he stayed dead. He stayed dead because the damage was so severe his Endocrine system couldn’t repair him before his brain-cells died from lack of oxygen.”

  “But yours could.”

  “Yes, quite easily. One bullet hole isn’t difficult for my system. I think if you weren’t there, though, I’d be dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of your Cloaking abilities. The same ability which allowed you to hide Melissa’s blood from us also hid mine from Melissa. If she’d known what I was she would’ve emptied the rest of her bullets into my noggin so, in a way, I guess I owe you.”

  The man took a bullet in the head and he guessed he owed me. Now that’s friendship if you ask me; or brain damage which under the circumstances makes more sense but I’m going with friendship because it’s got a better vibe to it and he’s a lot bigger than me…and a Werewolf.

  We pulled off the freeway and headed east along Highway 121 until we came to a traffic light placed so heavy trucks hauling waste could enter and leave the city dump in a nice, orderly fashion. It had a big sign indicating it closed at eight on weekdays and it was ten-thirty at night but we were sitting there, waiting for the light to change.

  “Just run it” I said.

  “It’s red” replied George.

  “So?”

  “It’s against the law.”

  I will not insult you with the hypocrisy of an admitted Werewolf with three dead bodies in the truck bed refusing to run a light which serves no purpose. It would be nice, though, if some aspiring rocket-scientist decided to rethink his occupational choice and do something about traffic instead.

  IS IT BAD?

  It’s beyond bad. It causes otherwise peaceful creatures to become maniacal lane-hoarders as though each particular piece of pavement was purchased solely for their use.

  The light turned green and we drove about fifteen more miles before turning north on a side street which twisted and turned for ten more minutes before we pulled onto a dirt road blocked by a metal gate. Phillip got out, unlocked the gate and we drove five more minutes until George stopped.

  “All right, let’s grab some shovels” George said.

  “What’re we doing?” I asked.

  “Burying Peter” Phillip responded.

  “Just us?”

  “How many people do you think we need?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, twenty?”

  “Grab a shovel, Johnny.”

  “Seriously, Phillip, I don’t think you realize how hard the dirt is. Look around you. See anything other than mesquite trees around here? You know what that means? It means this is mean old Texas mesquite dirt. Stuff’s like concrete but even worse, at least concrete will break out in chunks. This stuff comes out in fine little granules which blow right back in as soon as you turn your back. Trust me on this; we need a back-hoe or crane or something.”

  “Just grab a shovel.”

  “Okay, but I’m telling you…”

  And then I saw George jam his shovel in the ground so far it appeared he was testing pond depth. There was moonlight to verify I was right in thinking the dirt was indeed the packed Earth of early farming misery and I think my jaw was getting tired from hanging agape so many times in one day but I had to ascertain I wasn’t hallucinating.

  “Do that again.”

  And he did.

  “Holy…!”

  “Come on! Let’s move some dirt!” shouted Phillip.

  And move some dirt we did. Okay, technically I didn’t move anywhere near as much dirt as the other two but I was amazed at what I could do. First off, I actually drove the complete head of my shovel into the ground and secondly I didn’t get one bit tired from the exertion. Now granted, it took us about twenty minutes to accomplish the task but considering it would’ve taken an earth-mover about the same amount of time I’m thinking that’s not bad.

  “So the bloodletting made me stronger?”

  “In a way” replied George.

  “How much stronger?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Well, it’s pretty technical.”

  `”I’m a technical kind of guy.”

  He looked at me in the disbelieving way people do when they don’t want to hurt your feelings by telling the truth.

  “Okay, I’m not a technical guy but I’m smart enough to have a college degree” I said.

  “What’s your degree in?”

  “Liberal Arts.”

  He gave me the same look and I’m just going to say it right hear and right now; it’s not my fault a Liberal Arts degree is now worthless! No one told me or if they did I was at a frat party which is the same thing as not telling.

  “Did you take Biology?” George asked.

  “Yep.”

  I didn’t see any benefit from mentioning I barely squeaked by and retained absolutely nothing from the course.

  “Do you remember how muscles work?”

  “Of course” I said though I had no recollection whatsoever.

  “Okay, then you remember the Krebs Cycle which explained how those muscle cells regenerated their energy after they tired out?”

  “Sure” I responded untruthfully .

  “Well, our blood is much more efficient at delivering the molecules needed to produce the energy. It gives us limitless endurance, at least compared to Humans.”

  “Got it” I said.

  And decided then and there to sue my old college professor for breach of services or malpractice or whatever it was called when the perso
n they’re trying to teach learns absolutely nothing from the course.

  DID YOU?

  Did I what?

  DID YOU SUE YOUR COLLEGE PROFESSOR?

  Did I…? No, I didn’t sue my college professor.

  “Really? You understood it?” George asked.

  “Sure, you don’t get tired because you’ve got super-blood.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, because you mixed your blood with mine I also have super-energy stuff?”

  “Yep.”

  “And that’s what made me stronger?”

  “Well, no, you’re not actually stronger. You’re able to use your entire strength over and over again without fear of getting weaker from exhaustion.”

  “Oh” I said a little depressed from the information.

  “You’re stronger over the long haul, Johnny.”

  “Okay, yeah, I understand.”

  “It’s still a good thing.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Come on, let’s go get Peter and give him a proper burial.”

  We tossed Peter in the hole and started shoveling dirt on him before he hit bottom leaving me wondering what an improper burial looked like. After a couple of minutes we had ourselves a nice human-sized anthill on the outskirts of Dallas suburbia and while pondering why there’s always so much excess dirt after hole-filling I noticed something which should’ve been obvious from the outset.

  “Uh, guys?”

  “Yes, Johnny?” replied Phillip.

  “There’s a full moon out.”

  “Why, yes, there certainly is” he said with a grin.

  “So, um, are you going to turn into Wolves?”

  “No, Johnny, we’re not.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we haven’t eaten a warm heart yet.”

  “Excuse me?” I responded nervously.

  “You heard him” George said while approaching from the opposite direction.

  I thought…

  ‘Crap! I knew it! I knew I should’ve listened when people said never trust a Werewolf but no, oh no, I just had to go and learn for myself. Now I’m going to end up as some human chew-toy for these lunar, canine, shape-shifting people-eaters and it’s no one’s fault but my own. Well, maybe a little bit of Bob’s since he’s the one who set up the appointment but definitely no one else unless you want to toss in Melissa and her gun-toting shenanigans but that’s definitely it.’

  “Yaaagh!” I screamed.

  And ran like the wind into the night-time forest of five-foot tall mesquite trees looking over my shoulder for pursuit the whole time. I dodged left, I dodged right, I dodged directly into the arms of Phillip who somehow managed to get in front of me in the forty seconds since I began my frenzied dash.

  “Johnny, calm down man, we were just kidding!” I heard as I fainted.

  YOU FAINTED?

  Of course I fainted. I’m not exactly gifted with the ability to look death in the eye and remain conscious and when I came to I heard…

  “They’re going to kill us” said Phillip.

  “I know” answered George.

  “I mean it. Trudy’s really going to be mad.”

  “I know.”

  “You know? It was your idea, you better come up with something better than ‘I know’.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Well think faster! I don’t know about Vivian but Trudy’s been upset ever since the last fiasco.”

  “Come on, it was funny” said George.

  “You shot yourself in the face!”

  “They were depressing.”

  “It was a suicide-prevention benefit!”

  They went on for about five minutes before the two fell silent. I could almost feel the trepidation emanating as I heard the two Vampires emerging from the spindly Texas countryside.

  “… no, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t acting alone. I don’t know who she’s partnering with but…?”

  It’s then when I think they noticed me.

  “What were you thinking?” Trudy asked.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  “And you! You just went along?”

  “Yes, Mistress. I’m very sorry, Mistress.”

  “I’ve got to tell you, Vivian, I don’t know what to do here?”

  “Me neither, Trudy. What were you two thinking?”

  And that’s when the two death-delivering Werewolves started acting like teenagers caught experimenting with cigarettes. When I thought they’d had enough I pretended to awaken.

  “Look, Johnny, I’m really sorry” said George.

  “Me too, Johnny, I’m really, really sorry” added Phillip.

  “You two could’ve given me a heart attack! It was not funny! It was juvenile and childish and… juvenile and childish!”

  “We know and we’re really, really, really sorry. Can you please forgive us?”

  Of course I forgave them but I wanted to make them squirm a bit and I was curious how many ‘really’s’ I could squeeze out of them.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, we really are sorry.”

  I guess three was the limit.

  “All right, I forgive you. But don’t ever do it again!”

  “We won’t, we promise” said Phillip and then he hugged me.

  To put it in perspective think of a modern-day jockey getting bear-hugged by a football lineman and that’s about the size differential.

  HE’S BIG, HUH?

  You’re all big, you hairless ape.

  “Have you made up?” asked Vivian.

  “Yeah” I said.

  “Good, because we need to do something about the other two bodies.”

  Which was really odd because I couldn’t believe I forget a second time.