Now that the man said it, Megan did start to notice a reptilian sort of quality to the creatures. “Where’d you hear about all this?” she asked the man.
He looked down at his feet and muttered, “I know people who know people.” It was a non-committal response which Megan immediately understood. She often had to make up similar excuses when asked how she had obtained certain information or goodies form Lou. “Apparently, the lord of Eleven is planning on taking all the districts.”
“What?” asked Ollie. “How is he planning on doing that? Once the other district lords get wind of what is going on here, they will find a way to stop it. The leftover werewolves will band together with the big cat shifters and the mages, and these guys will be stomped out before they could even turn.”
“Maybe,” said the man. “But these guys aren’t like any other shifters. What they turn into is bigger than a wolf and I’ve heard they have sharper claws and teeth than even the were-tigers.”
Megan’s stomach did a somersault, and she remembered the first time she’d ever seen a werewolf turn. She was ten years old, and District One was experiencing a similar scarcity to the one they were currently in. Food was running low and people were getting restless. One guy started to throw a fit when he saw what meager servings they were giving out at the mess hall. He got a bunch of other guys riled up and everyone started yelling and flipping tables. One guy picked up a chair and broke the thing clean over the back of one of the guards.
After taking a moment to register what happened, the guard let out a deep howl. Megan’s mom grabbed her hand and told her to run, but it was as if her feet were nailed to the floor. She watched in horror as the guard’s face grew into a long snout, lined with knife-like teeth. He leaped onto the guy and closed his jaws around the poor man’s neck.
Cal picked Megan up and ran in the opposite direction. She pushed her face into his chest and tried to forget what she just saw. She heard the man scream in pain, and then the unmistakable sound of flesh being torn and bones breaking. The screaming stopped.
“Hand over your crown, and we will not hurt any more of your guards.” The booming voice of the lord of Eleven snapped Megan back to the present. “Surrender, and no more harm will come to you or your people.”
The wolf lord scoffed. “Like I care what you do to them.” He spat in the direction of the crowd. “They are all worthless anyway.”
The lord of Eleven threw his arms up and walked the perimeter of the crowd. “You hear that? Your leader doesn’t care how many of you live or die. He doesn’t respect a single one of you.” He smiled. “When I’m leader, you will no longer be treated as useless cattle. You each have something to bring to the table, you each possess a unique set of skills which you will use to serve me. If you serve me well, I will keep your bellies full and your mouths grinning.”
Some people murmured and whispered in the crowd. He walked back to the center of the courtyard and situated himself directly in front of the wolf lord. “Now, I’m going to give you one final chance. Surrender, and you may live.”
The werewolf let out a low, soft growl, but the green leader did not budge. Finally, the wolf dropped his head heavily, allowing the crown to fall to the ground and roll to the new leader’s feet. He leaned to pick it up and rubbed a few smudges from it’s surface using the underside of his forearm. Satisfied with its shine, he put the crown atop his head.
“Thank you,” he said to the previous leader. “You made the right choice.” He looked to the two men holding him and nodded. They each simultaneously kicked at the backside of the wolf’s knees, bending his legs and sending him to the ground. He caught himself with his hands, but a second later, the pink skinned one jumped on top of his back and he lost his balance. Pinned and squirming, they hog-tied him and wrapped a piece of cloth around his head and in his mouth.
The whole ordeal only lasted about thirty seconds. It took three guys to lift him up.
“Find someplace to lock him up,” said the new leader. “I still have some questions I need to ask him.” His men left with the captive and he once again addressed the crowd. “Now that I’m in charge, a few things are going to have to chance. My name is Rokkan, but you may just refer to me as your lord. Everyone, retire to your homes, take the rest of the day off. I know this has been a quiet afternoon, and I can’t imagine much work is getting done after all this. We will meet tomorrow morning to discuss where to go from here.”
His eyes met Megan’s and singled her out from the crowd. For a second, he seemed to be speechless. Shaking his head, he broke their impromptu staring contest and looked away. “I will be sending my men around tonight to see if you need anything, please, do not fear them. We are here to bring about good change.” He clapped his hands together. “Thank you, everyone and have a nice evening.”
Megan narrowed her eyes as she watched Lord Rokkan walk confidently away from the crowd, in the direction of the District One leader’s quarters. The way he spoke reminded her of the people-pleasing politician character in a comic book series she and Ollie used to read obsessively when they were kids. Back when such things were still being made.
She didn’t like him, which was not unusual. She didn’t like many people. But more importantly, she didn’t trust him. Not as far as she could throw him, which, considering he had to be nearly six foot five and two hundred pounds, was not far.
Chapter Three
Breaking Bread
In dismissing everyone from their shifts early, Lord Rokkan ensured that no one was around to cook or serve dinner, meaning they were all on their own. Megan was too embarrassed to reach out to Lou again, she knew how busy and important her friend was. It was the ever-chipper Cal’s idea to get everyone on floor forty-nine together and have a potluck. He suggested it around 4:30, about an hour after everything went down in the courthouse. After running it by his family, he went knocking on everyone’s door, asking if they were interested in and if they had anything they could contribute to a group dinner. Nearly everyone was excited by the idea, and immediately went to scrounging through their kitchens, in search of something they could share.
By Megan’s count, there were sixty-two people at the potluck. At first, the Zandle’s were letting everyone into their apartment, but the party soon outgrew their small space and they decided it made the most sense to go first floor and eat in the rec-room. Anyone they passed on they way down, they were told to invite.
“Great turn out, huh?” Megan’s dad asked as he plopped into the chair next to hers. She was eating with Ollie in a table in the back corner. “And everyone is bringing food! They are really getting into it.”
He was beaming. He loved playing the host, and he loved making people happy. Planning parties was his forte. Too bad that wasn’t an occupation in District One. Instead, Cal was stuck working as a trash collector and recycle organizer –– a job in which he rarely got to interact with people, and those he did interact with, always seemed to look down upon him.
“It’s great, dad,” said Megan. “Fantastic idea.” She plunged her fork into some potato dish Mrs. Geller from across the hall had brought. “Pretty decent food too,” she said through a full mouth.
“I think people are feeling big changes coming,” said Cal. “I’ve talked to some who are scared and others who are hopeful. Either way, we know things will be different, and that’s exciting.”
Iris appeared next to her husband. “Hey sweetie, some people from floor thirty wanted to thank you in person for putting all this together. Over there.” She pointed near the door to the rec room.
“Alright, I’m coming.” Cal smiled at his kids and slipped into the sea of hungry, talking people.
Ollie, who had been unusually quiet all evening, hiccuped loudly and clutched his chest. Megan was about to tell him how gross he was when she caught the scent of alcohol on his breath.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked.
“No.”
“Yes you have!”
He
wouldn’t look up at her. He just stared at his empty plate. “Maybe a little.”
“Where did you get something to drink?” Although she didn’t really care, it was all she could think to ask in that moment. “Who gave it to you?”
Ollie shrugged. “A friend of mine, Benny. He works with me in contracting. He’s been fermenting stuff in secret for a while now. Finally let me have some.”
“You dummy!” Megan reached out and smacked her brother lightly on the back of his head. “That shit will make you sick! You’re going to end up all this good food everyone made. The first real meal we have in weeks and you’re going to up-chuck it all down the toilet.”
“I didn’t even have that much!” said Ollie. “It tasted nasty.”
Megan shook her head. “You can’t pull stuff like this, Ollie. I know you’re sixteen and that means it’s your time to break the rules and push boundaries, but that’s not a luxury our family can afford right now. Everything is too crazy for you to go adding to the chaos.”
“I had one sip, you killjoy.” Ollie stood up and took his plate. “Just leave me alone.” He made his way back to the food table, where Megan saw him whispering with some twenty-something kid who was waving his arms about and completely off balance. The two of them grabbed more food, and casually walked out of the rec-room.
“That’s just great.” Megan rolled her eyes. “I hope he does puke.”
* * *
Iris and Cal found Ollie a few hours later, passed out under a tree. Iris insisted that Cal take Ollie up to bed and then hit the hay himself, then volunteered herself and Megan to finish cleaning up.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Megan said as she threw a stack of paper plates into the garbage can. “But I don’t think it makes much sense. Ollie gets drunk and gets out of cleaning. Meanwhile, I don’t do anything wrong and yet I’m the one stuck with extra chores.”
“Ollie will get a nice long talking to in the morning,” said Iris. “And you will have the satisfaction of lending a helping hand.” She grinned at her daughter.
Megan smiled back, not able to help it.
The tidied in silence for some time.
“How do you feel about all this?” Iris said after a while. “About what happened this afternoon… I talked to so many people about it tonight, and I’m only just realizing I forgot to check in with my own children.”
“I’m not sure,” said Megan. “We’ve been under werewolf rule for as long as I can remember. There’s a part of me that is intrigued and optimistic about the prospect of change. Another part of me thinks it will just be more of the same, if not worse.”
Iris nodded. “I have the same fears.”
“Ollie said something interesting,” said Megan. “We were talking about leaving to join one of the bands of migrants. He said he thinks more people don’t leave because they fear the unknown.” Megan scrapped some leftovers into a plastic container Cal had brought down from their apartment. “In other words, people are complacent with their depraved situations because they are scared of the alternatives, even without knowing what the alternatives may be.”
Iris was quite a moment. She put down the rag she’d been using to wipe down one of the tables. “Let’s take a break, yeah?” She sat down in the nearest chair and sighed. “I think we’ve earned it.”
Megan sat and watched her mother with soft, expectant eyes.
“Your brother is wise,” Iris said. “You both are. You get that from my side of the family I think. My parents were big thinkers, both worked as professors before the war.” Megan nodded. She’d heard all of this before, but she didn’t tell her mother to stop. These days, it was rare for Iris to open up like this. “When they died, I had no idea what I was going to do. I was married to your father, who was always so positive and he kept telling me that they were in a better place… I didn’t believe him though. I spiraled, for a long time. It wasn’t until I got pregnant with you that I even realized how far I’d gone.”
“Far?” Megan asked. “Gone where, exactly?”
“Into myself,” said Iris. “I couldn’t handle the reality that I was faced with –– the war was over and everything was changing. I didn’t have my parents around anymore to guide me. I was scared. So, I turned inward.” She took her eyes from Megan’s and looked off into the distance. “I think that’s what a lot of people did. I look around while I’m working or eating, and everyone feels so distant. I think they are inside themselves like I was, unable to be present because being present in this world means being in pain.”
Megan tried to recall the last time her mother had spoken so honestly and emotionally. Possibly never.
“You and your brother aren’t like that,” Iris continued. “I don’t know if it’s because you were born after the war, or maybe you just came into this world with a natural curiosity and hunger… either way, you two are different. I’ve known for a long time that Ollie might run off, and I’ve made my peace with it. I’m not going to try to convince him that there’s anything here for him.”
“And what about me?” Megan said. “Do you think there’s anything here for me?”
Iris moved her head, slowly, side to side, as if physically weighing the options atop her neck. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She sat up in her chair and leaned her wait on the table, bringing her face inches from her daughter’s. “Ollie is different in a way that makes him want to leave. You’re different in a way that makes you want change. When you were little, you were always asking me questions about life and about why it’s unfair. You were never able to wrap your head around why some had more than others, why some went hungry while others had more than enough to eat. If anybody is ever going to make a real difference in District One, I always believed it would be you.”
Megan sat further back in her chair. The weight of what her mother said was too heavy, it made it hard for her to sit up straight. She slumped into the seat and looked down at the floor, unable to keep eye contact with Iris.
“Mom,” she said. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.” Megan shook her head and scoffed. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’ve never done anything to make real change. If anything, I’ve been the most complacent of us all. I keep my head down and work, that’s it.”
Iris smiled. “And what about when our meals were getting cut a few years back, and you would give half of yours to Ollie, regardless of how hard you’d worked that day. Or how about that friend of yours, Aggie? I worked with her multiple times before you came of age to work. That woman was a steel trap. Wouldn’t open her mouth once during the shift. After your first shift working with her, you came home and told me how she was going on and on about her life before the war. You have a way with people, and that’s powerful.”
Megan had never thought of herself as powerful. She’d always known she was a good listener, and that she had her empathetic moments, but that wasn’t enough to make her special right? Maybe, she thought, It is enough in a place like this.
Maybe a little empathy and someone to listen is all the people of District One really need.
“I’m not saying I expect you to change the world,” Iris continued. “And I wouldn’t be offended if one day you chose to run away with your brother. I just think it’s important that you understand the strength that lies within you. District One is about to undergo some pretty major changes, I can feel it. If ever there was a time to start using that strength, I think it’s now.”
Chapter Four
From Cleaning to Cooking, Megan the Domestic
The bells of the clocktower, which sat at the Easternmost side of the courtyard, blared their usual six AM wake up call the following morning. The residents of District One were not sure what to expect. Unsure whether or not they would still be responsible for their regular work, most of them opted to dress in the color-coded work suits. A few brave individuals came to the mess hall still in their pajamas.
Breakfast was being served by a group of shapeshifters, who looked a lot l
ike Rokkan and his men, only slightly smaller and distinctly female. They offered friendly smiles to those who dared take a plate and ask for food. It appeared many people were feeling a bit too apprehensive to trust the kind gesture. They stayed with their backs pushed up against the walls, anxiously looking around for signs of when this “meeting” might start.
Cal was the first of the Zandle family to take up a plate. He grinned at his kids and said, “who am I to turn down a meal, huh?”
The rest of the family followed his example, knowing they really weren’t in any position to be scoff at the newest hand which fed them. The food was different. Nothing like what was usually served. Megan took small, tentative bites of the food first, but upon tasting the delish, roasted meat dish, she realized she was about to have one of the best meals of her life. She scared the food down in a matter of seconds, not worrying about how impolite a display she may be making.
After her and Iris’s second, Ollie and Cal’s third, serving of breakfast, the meeting finally megan. Rokkan stood in the center of the mess hall, atop one of the tables, and he called everyone’s attention by slamming a big, painted walking stick and clearing his throat. He was wearing what appeared to be a werewolf’s tale around his neck, like a scarf, and his clothing was still slightly blood stained from the previous day’s fighting.
“Hello everyone.” He smiled. “I hope you enjoyed this lovely breakfast I had my personal chefs prepare for you this morning. For those of you who did not eat the food, I understand.” He put a hand on his chest. “You are wary of me and the changes I wish to bring. I don’t blame you. After seeing the bloodshed yesterday, I am surprised any of you even showed up to this meeting.” He chuckled, along with a few members of the crowd.
Lord Rokkan’s Private Toy Page 3
