Werewolf: Ascension

by Greg Hair

  “Besides, I figure if I have cancer, there’s a reason and it’s not my place to question it or try to change it. It’s not natural for us to do what we do, cheating death all the time.” Allen placed his hand to his chest. “Excuse me for a moment. Where’s the restroom?”

  Landon motioned down the hall. Allen rounded the corner, putting his fist to his mouth as he began coughing, lightly at first, then a deeper cough, like he was trying to expel something.

  “Sure it’s natural for us to cheat death,” said Landon through the bathroom door, trying to ignore the coughing. “Like I told LillyAnna, we have these gifts for a reason.

  And you not changing, is like telling a mortal who has cancer, not to fight. Is that what you would say to someone else?” He heard the sink turn on and off. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” said Allen, opening the door, wiping the corners of his mouth. “Of course I wouldn’t tell someone not to fight any disease they had; life needs to be fought for. But I don’t feel this is a fight that’s for me. I’m not going to change, either my mind, or my form. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t change to fight you today.

  “And it’s one of the reasons I’m here to see my grandkids. I want to see them before I die. I believe that having cancer brought me here, to you—God brought me here to you, so that I could fix things. So, in a way, this cancer has been a blessing. God is in the hardships if you look hard enough. It’s funny, I was never a spiritual person, until this happened. Anyway, enough about me. Landon, you really need to look for the kids. You shouldn’t wait until it gets dark. Anything could happen between now and then.”

  “I know, but I’m giving Jamie a chance,” Landon said, pouring a rocks glass full of Irish whiskey, trying to process the events of the morning and everything his father was saying. “I’m trying to believe there’s something there that I can believe in. I need, I want, to be a better father. The twins aren’t my only children. I’m hoping that if I keep leaving the door open, he’ll accept the invitation. Unfortunately, after last night, I may have made sure that he never walks through the door.”

  “Believe me, I understand exactly what you’re saying, but we really need to think about the twins, first. Don’t wait an entire day. You’re losing valuable time.”

  “There’s so much going on right now. Between you returning and having cancer, the kids disappearing, and my relationship with Jamie, I just don’t know what to do. I really hope there’s no more surprises for a while. How much time do you have? With the cancer, I mean.”

  “Not much. It seems that when we stop changing for a long time, not only can we become diseased, but all those years we skipped catch up quickly. The cancer is progressing rapidly. Even my vision was fine a month ago, but now I need glasses. But I refuse to get them.”

  “I think you should reconsider--,” the sudden ringing of Landon’s phone broke his thought process. A familiar voice came over the line when he answered.

  “Hi, Landon,” said Ryker.

  “Hey, Ryker. I’m a little busy right now. Can I call you back?”

  “I’m sure you are busy, but listen, we need to talk. I should let you know that I already know what’s going on there before you tell me.”

  “What do you mean you already know? Know what?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Just tell me,” said Landon.

  “The Senate has been monitoring things there since you left here. I know that probably pisses you off, and I’m sorry, but things have taken a serious turn, we believe, with Jamie’s actions.”

  “No, you’re right, I don’t appreciate being watched, but I can’t say I’m surprised.

  What do you mean ‘with Jamie’s actions’?” Landon made effort to disguise his frustration.

  “We’re a little concerned that you may not be seeing things clearly. You need to think about this. Jamie’s school suffers thousands of dollars worth of damage, and the next day he disappears with Liam and Mara. You don’t suspect that Jamie may be up to something serious?”

  “Look, it’s Jamie. Of course, the thought has crossed my mind. But, you guys have always been the ones telling me to give him a chance,” Landon said, pacing the floor as he spoke.

  “My friend, there’s certain information you don’t have. Gabriel, Serinda, and Bianca took off sometime within the past hour. Normally, that wouldn’t get our attention.

  The teens know they’re allowed to come and go as they please, and they exercise that right often. But given what’s going on there, and the history between your son and those three, well, you can see how it makes us wonder. I know Allen’s there with you. What’s he saying about all of this?”

  “He’s trying to get me to go after the—wait a minute. How do you know he’s here? You know he’s alive.”

  Landon listened intently for a break in the long pause on the phone. Finally, it came.

  “The Consuls always known and they informed me a little while ago. Like I said, we’re monitoring things. Look, I know you feel lied to, and I’m sorry about that, but I think you should listen to him. Any amount of time the kids have been missing is too long. You’ve done this long enough to know that. Landon, we’re sending someone there to help. They’ll be there in a matter of hours.”

  “Ryker, I’m pretty pissed off right now. And you know me. I’d hang up the phone if you hadn’t told me someone else was coming. You know I don’t need, or want, help. I have things under control. What are you not telling me? Who’s this person you’ve sent?”

  “You need to find your kids as soon as possible; their welfare is most important, so you can use all the help you can get. And Landon, there’s one more thing—are you absolutely sure you killed Nicholas?”

  “Yeah. Why? Who are you sending?” Landon paced between the front and back doors, making a slightly worn trail in the green shag carpet leading to the kitchen’s yellow linoleum floor. “I’m in control here.”

  “We’re just looking at all possibilities, no matter how improbable. All of this just seems so odd.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not possible that he’s still alive. I killed him myself—watched him die. He’s lying impaled on a big fucking pipe as we speak. Now back to the real question at hand—who are you sending? Quit dodging the issue.”

  “Calm down, Landon. I know you don’t like surprises, but you do know that everyone here cares about you and your family, right? Any decision that’s made here by the Consuls is for that reason. Have you thought about maybe looking in the last place you’d expect to find Jamie? If you were him, where would you go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do know. You know your son better than that. Think. Where would Jamie go?”

  “Ryker, I don’t know, but this game’s getting old. Just say it.”

  “New York. We think you should look in New York.”

  “New York? Ryker, come on. He’d have no reason to go there, and definitely no reason to take the twins. Nicholas is dead. Jamie was there, he knows that as much as I do. I’m sorry, Ryker, but it’s gonna take more than the suspicions of people halfway around the world that a dead man’s walking to get me to look in New York.”

  “How about a phone call from your son? He called here to tell us he was in New York’s Central Park. And that’s all he said. We sent the information to Quantico and the call did indeed come from that vicinity.”

  Silence filled the air both in Landon’s house and on the phone.

  “Ryker, I gotta go,” said Landon, frustrated with the conversation.

  “Okay, I understand. I’ll let you go. I’ll call back soon. Just take some time to think about what I’ve said before out person gets there. Oh, and when they do arrive, try to be nice. Find your kids Landon—start where it last ended.” Landon hung up, casting a glance at his father. The younger Murphy said nothing, but walked into the living room and sat in his recliner as if he were the last man on earth, waiting for death to come.

  Hours
passed with no communication between father and son. As the sun began to disappear along the horizon, the gleam of fading sunlight on a car’s windshield flashed across Landon’s eyes. He heard the tell-tale sound of gravel under a heavy weight. A moment later, a car door shut and a silhouette crossed in front of the curtained window, followed by a knock at the door. Landon looked at Allen who just shrugged his shoulders.

  Landon, giving a strange look toward Allen, got up and walked across the living room. Moving the maroon curtains back, he looked out the front window to see a cab backing out of the gravel drive. Only the driver occupied the car. Another knock. Landon opened the door.

  “Oh, my god,” he said, his mouth gaped open.

  “Hi, Landon,” said LillyAnna. “I’m here to help, though judging by the condition of your garage, I’m a little late to offer assistance in another area. Look, we need to talk.” Chapter 6

  That evening, as the sun was setting on the East Coast, Jamie and Nicholas sat at an old wooden table in a circa-1930’s kitchen, in a little white house near the Savannah River. The beautiful blonde teenager looked out the window to the slow moving water beyond the moss covered trees. The plant hung from the limbs like perpetual molasses.

  Tchaikovsky came over an old radio on the kitchen counter. Nicholas, eyes closed, waved his hand as if conducting.

  “There’s no one like Tchaikovsky,” he said. “I enjoyed Mozart’s company, he was great fun. A bit of a loose cannon, at times. He had to be reined in often, making me more of a babysitter. Beethoven was boring. Always going on about some girl that got away and his own misery. Blah, blah, blah. A bit of a downer, really. Plus, sign language hadn’t been invented, so communication was an issue. But, Tchaikovsky—Russians know how to have fun. He knew how to pace himself.” Liam and Mara were in a back bedroom, the door locked. The two werewolves listened to their whimpering in the kitchen. Occasionally, one would cry for mommy. The door knob jiggled from time to time. Then they would stop and, moments later, the quiet crying would begin again. Nicholas watched Jamie squirm every time one of the children would call out for their mother.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Nicholas.

  “Nothing.” Jamie ran his finger in circles on the red and white checkered tablecloth. The covering resembled the old plastic tablecloths used in Pizza Hut restaurants. “What do we do with them?”

  “What would you like to do with them?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jamie. “Are you going to, I mean, should we kill them?” Nicholas leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Is that what you want to do?”

  “I don’t know?” said Jamie.

  “What purpose would that serve?” Nicholas asked.

  “Revenge,” said the teen. “Because of Landon, my mother is dead. Now he can lose the ones that matter most to him.”

  “It’s not his fault your mother died,” responded Nicholas. “It’s yours. You couldn’t control yourself during your first change and there was a casualty. Collateral damage. Besides, your mother is dead, and so is theirs.”

  “That only hurts them, not him. I want him to suffer.”

  “Believe me, it hurts him, too. We killed someone he cared about. But what you are wanting can be achieved another way.”

  Nicholas uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. He looked Jamie directly in the eye, never blinking. Jamie knew the man was no one to trifle with.

  “If you want revenge, you keep them alive,” said Nicholas. “Use them to your advantage. Once they have served their usefulness, we’ll discard them. Until then, we see that no harm is done. They are under our protection.”

  “You’re right. I couldn’t kill kids, either.”

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t kill them. I said, in this instance, we use them. You don’t have it in you to kill children. You should leave such things to those with experience.” Jamie shuddered inwardly, still not quite understanding where Nicholas was going with all of this, but he knew that you don’t become aide to the Consuls by not being brilliant.

  “What was it like?” asked Jamie.

  “What was what like?”

  “Living under Central Park for months. How did you come back from the dead?”

  “Second question first—are you sure I died?”

  Jamie sat silent, a blank expression on his face.

  “I remained on the pipe for 3 days, finally awakening and sliding myself up until I reached the top and rolled off. My thirst for Landon’s blood was second only to my thirst for dietary blood and meat. I needed to eat and I knew I had plenty of time to plot. But the real answer to that question, I will divulge at another time.

  “Now, for the first question. I was not living the life of a god. I fed mostly on the homeless, since that would be less likely to draw unwarranted attention, but that was not what I most enjoyed. When werewolves eat, they taste the same as their last meal, and the homeless do not eat well. Every now and then, though, I would feed on a tourist for the fun of it. Then, just for my own fashion needs and my taste for fine dining, I would find a well-dressed businessman. They eat well.”

  “What other food did you eat?”

  “None. There was no reason for me to. Eating in werewolf form will also sustain the human side though, until one becomes used to it, the human in us will reject and expel consumed human parts. I have no trouble eating whatever I want. And before you ask, I never ate in my human condition. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a cannibal.

  “Anyway, I would bring my food to the tunnels and, sometimes, when the mood struck, I would take them near the trains and wait for one to pass. Then, my dinner would scream. I liked to hear them scream as the trains passed.” Nicholas looked up and closed his eyes, as if enjoying a symphony only he could hear. “Them knowing that help was that close, but would never come.

  “Then there were the prostitutes. Not that I despise prostitution in particular—I despise everything mortals do. But I had particular fun with some ladies of the night.

  Intercourse would begin normally, then, when I neared orgasm, I would change, feeding on them as I reached my release. Consuming your partner during the act? Now that’s sex.”

  Jamie hadn’t blinked for several minutes.

  “Have I answered your questions for the moment?”

  “Yes.” He finally blinked.

  “You should go talk to them,” Nicholas advised.

  “Who?”

  “The twins. They are your brother and sister. You know what it’s like to lose your mother. Comfort them. You want them to trust you while they are here.” Jamie got up from the table and walked through the house, coming to the kids’

  bedroom. He unlocked the door. The crying on the other side immediately stopped. When he entered, he found the twins sitting on the bed, holding each other, as if someone were now going to take one from the other, leaving them completely alone.

  Their room was completely empty, save for a single, twin bed. The entire space was devoid of any of the usual signs that a child resided there: posters, toys, coloring books, crayons, clothes. The bed had one blanket.

  In fact, no one had slept in the bedroom, or the rest of the house for that matter, in decades. What little furniture there was, had been placed there by Nicholas when he purchased the home years before.

  The children were still in their school clothes from that morning: Mara in her pigtails and pink dress; Liam in his green Incredible Hulk shirt. Jamie sat on the bed, prompting the kids to jerk back. He could see on their faces that it had been a long day for them.

  “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “You’re safe. Now.”

  “Where’s mommy?” asked Liam.

  “Do you know what Heaven is?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s where God, Jesus, and the angels live,” said Mara.

  “It’s where your mommy lives, too. It’s where my mommy lives.”

  “Your mommy’s in Heaven?” Liam asked. “With mine?”

  “Yes. The
y’re looking down over all of us, protecting us from the bad guys.”

  “Who are they?” asked Mara.

  “They are the ones who hurt your mommy and made her go to Heaven.” The red-heads sat there, still holding on to each other, tears forming again, dripping from their faces to the bedsheets. Jamie reached out and touched their heads, running his fingers through their thick manes. Now he was beginning to see where Nicholas was going with this.

  “We’re hungry,” Mara said.

  “We’ll eat soon. There’s a tire swing outside on an old tree if you want to go out and play.”

  The children leaned in to hug him and, for a split second, he flinched. Then he recalled what Nicholas said, about getting them to trust him. Jamie wrapped his arms around both children and squeezed tightly. As they sat upright, he wiped away their tears.

  Then he got up, left the room, and walked back to the kitchen. Nicholas sat there, at the Pizza Hut table, smiling. Jamie then heard the light steps of little feet walk quietly through the hall, across the living room, and out the front screen door. The teacher and the student had little concern for their being seen, for there wasn’t another house for miles.

  Moments later, Jamie heard faint voices outside, followed by Mara’s.

  “They’re sitting inside, in the kitchen,” said the little red-haired girl. “They said we could come out and play.”

  Jamie’s ears perked up as he turned, staring at Nicholas. The elder werewolf appeared unfazed; the teen was afraid to move. The boards of the front steps creaked under the added weight as someone larger than a five year old approached the door. The knocking sent Jamie’s heart racing.

  Jamie thought, whoever it was, already knew they were there. He got up and walked into the living room, noticing someone standing to the side of the window. He opened the door, gasping when he realized who was standing there.