The Original's Return (Book 2): The Original's Retribution

by David Watkins

“When will he wake up?” Knowles asked the doctor, who shrugged.

  “He could wake any time. Everyone reacts differently to this op.” The doctor paused. “We don’t normally knock people out, but he was extremely agitated.”

  I bet he was.

  “Did he say anything?” Knowles asked.

  The doctor shook his head. “Only that he’d been bitten.”

  “Who found him?”

  “Phelps’ team. They are back out looking for those things.” The doctor glanced at Jack when he said that. It was only a flick of the eyes, but it was enough.

  “Ok, thanks, Doc. Let me know if he wakes,” Knowles said and left the room without another word. Jack jogged to catch up with him. They walked down many identical corridors, talking all the way.

  “Nobody trusts me, do they?” Jack said.

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you really need me to answer that?”

  “Knowles, I’m on your side. You know that, right?”

  “Yes Jack, I know you think you are.”

  “What does that mean?”

  They opened a set of double doors and stepped into bright sunlight. Knowles stopped walking, looking at the chaos outside. Soldiers were patrolling the fences whilst others set up large calibre weapons to cover the exposed areas. Lights sat on the backs of flatbed trucks, their enormous bulbs illuminating the immediate perimeter and beyond to the edge of the wood. A team was welding the fence shut again. The noise was incredible and, as if it wasn’t loud enough, a helicopter roared overhead.

  “We had Bryant contained, Jack,” Knowles said. “He was there, in Raymond’s office. You turn up and all hell breaks loose.”

  “That wasn’t my fault, Knowles, and you damn well know it.” Jack shook his head. “You didn’t even know what he was until I showed up.”

  “What if Bryant was getting ready to turn himself in?”

  “What if he wasn’t? What if he was going to kill you both at the first opportunity?”

  “He had plenty of opportunities, Jack. So why didn’t he do it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. The helicopter made another pass, making conversation pointless for a few seconds. “Maybe he still has a conscience.”

  “Like you?”

  Jack shook his head sadly. “Knowles, that’s out of order.”

  “Probably.”

  “Probably?”

  “Since I met you Jack, an awful lot of people have died. Now Collins has lost a leg, and probably a lot more too. Raymond knows the score, he gets it, like I do.”

  “I’ve lost you, Knowles.”

  “No, Jack, you understand. We are not safe. None of us. Not whilst those things are out there.”

  “Where does that leave me?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Should I go?” There was a hint of panic in his voice and Jack didn’t like it.

  “Would you join them, Jack? Become like them?”

  “I would never join them.”

  “Never say never.”

  “I don’t get this Knowles,” Jack said. “I have done nothing to you.”

  “No, not directly,” Knowles said. “But I can’t help thinking that if you hadn’t fallen in the cave then none of this would be happening. Maybe those things would stay hidden and maybe a lot of people would still be alive.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Jack whispered.

  “No? Then whose?”

  Chapter 11

  1

  Bryant sat on the damp ground and surveyed the group in front of him. Rogers and Ryan sat on a log on the far side of the clearing, deep in conversation. Every thirty seconds, like clockwork, Ryan would glare at him.

  He’ll be first.

  Bryant sighed heavily and looked at the others. The woman, Jenny, watched him with a slight smile on her lips. She would smooth her hair whilst the others twitched by her side. Bryant tried to smile back, but images of Collins, Wills and Parker kept forcing the smile away.

  What have I become?

  The remaining two wolves were Joe and Henry: brothers, nearly identical. They stood watching the tree line for signs of their pursuers. Both looked on edge and one of them had facial twitches that Bryant had seen before. He won’t sleep tonight. Not for long anyway. Bryant pitied him: he had seen many good soldiers with that same look in Afghanistan. They were usually killed or shipped home shortly afterwards.

  “The longer we stay here, the more chance they will find us,” Bryant said.

  “We have a place,” Jenny said. “A little way from here. A roof to hide us from helicopters.”

  “You have a house?” Bryant said, clearly surprised.

  “Did you think we lived in forests? On the moors? The remote places?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Some of us do,” Rogers said. “The more esoteric of us. Many of us still have jobs, lead fairly normal lives.”

  “Do you?”

  Rogers shook his head. “We have everything we need: we are provided for.” He rested a hand on Jenny’s leg and patted it with a smile.

  So she’s the provider. I have to keep her on side.

  “We need to go, before the army finds us,” Joe said, his arm around his brother, who was shaking slightly. Not enough for the others to notice, but Bryant saw everything now.

  “They will not attack us again,” Rogers said.

  “Why do you say that?” Bryant said.

  “We have you.”

  “I can’t protect all of you,” Bryant said.

  “They are scared of you, Jamie,” Rogers said.

  “Don’t call me that,” Bryant snapped. Only my friends get to call me that.

  “Apologies, Bryant, I meant no offense.”

  “Can we go?” This came from Jenny, who looked as frustrated as Bryant felt. “It’s a long way.”

  “We just need to get to the cars,” Joe said.

  “This way, then,” Ryan said. His voice was nasally and with an accent that it took Bryant a moment to place. German. Something tugged at the back of Bryant’s mind. Something about the accent. It will come to me. Bryant followed the others into the woods.

  2

  No roadblocks were set up by the time they reached the cars. Bryant could hear a helicopter in the distance, but the engine noise did not get louder. Two cars, both nondescript normal family saloon cars. Bryant was impressed: nothing to draw attention to them here.

  The drive was short, traffic light. The Kent countryside passed in all its green glory. Wheat fields and oast houses stood as wealthy reminders of a former life. They were soon driving down a long lane, and came to a stop outside a five bar gate with pillars flanking it. Henry shuffled out of the car to open the gate and they drove along a tree lined driveway up to a large house.

  It was a red brick building, with ivy clinging to the outside. Two more Roman style pillars marked the porch to the house. ‘Porch’ was not a good enough word for what he was looking at. The house was close to a mansion, and in this part of the world, that meant money. A lot of money.

  “Whose place is this?” Bryant asked as he stepped out of the car.

  “Mine,” Jenny said. She led the way up the short steps and pushed open the front door. Bryant followed, the twins behind him. They were in a large hallway complete with long sweeping staircase and Bryant upped his – already large - estimation of how much this place was worth. A deer’s head watched him from its mount on the wall.

  “My first kill,” Jenny said, then walked into the next room. Is she joking? He didn't have time to ask as the others entered the house behind him. Ryan scowled at Bryant.

  “There has been a development,” Rogers said. He did not wait for Bryant but left the hallway by the same door as Jenny. The way he walked away was full of demand: he expected Bryant to follow him. Things need to change.

  “Best go,” said Joe, the non-shell shocked twin. He patted Bryant on the shoulder, but it was a friendly pat. There was a
nervous smile on the man’s face. He went into the room, pulling his brother gently with him.

  Bryant followed - he didn't have much choice after all. Predictably enough, it was a large room, dominated by a table that looked like it cost more than Bryant’s flat: a marble top supported by solid oak legs. As he looked more closely, he could see signs of wear – a few scratches in the polished surface, ring marks from wine glasses and coffee cups. Ten leather chairs were neatly placed around the table, four on each side and one at each end. Rogers sat in one at the head of the table, Jenny on one side, Ryan the other. Joe and Henry sat the halfway point of the table and Bryant took a seat opposite them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “This,” Rogers said. He lifted a remote control and a section of the wall behind Bryant slid down, revealing a large TV. It flickered to life, and Rogers changed the channel to a news programme. The presenters were talking about yet another horrendous situation in Afghanistan, but it was the ticker tape that caught Bryant’s eye.

  ... Violent and dangerous ex-army sergeant Jamie Bryant is at large tonight. He has killed at least three people, including a mother of four at a hospital in Kent. More to follow.

  Bryant swore but kept watching. After a few minutes, one of the anchors turned to the camera and started talking about him.

  It was not good.

  Photos of him walking out of the hospital, a big smile on his face. Photos of him in his uniform, sitting in Afghanistan with a weapon resting on his lap. Pictures of the dead people from the hospital. A live shot of the four children crushing their father with hugs at the school gates. All the while, the reporter spoke as if talking about someone else. Bryant felt sick to his stomach.

  “This is a problem,” Rogers said.

  No shit.

  “Why have they released this?” Jenny asked. “What will they gain?”

  “Everyone will be looking for me,” Bryant said. “They're thinking that I cannot go out in public as I'll be recognised.”

  Rogers nodded. “Yes, they want you to go into hiding.”

  “Why?” Ryan asked.

  “Reduce the opportunity for me to kill,” Bryant said.

  “But if you are spotted and recognised, won't this force you to kill?” Jenny asked.

  “That seems to be the chance they are taking,” Rogers said.

  “I'm not an animal,” Bryant said.

  Ryan burst out laughing. “You are. Or at least half of you is.”

  “You know what I meant,” Bryant said, with a scowl.

  “They're offering a reward,” Joe said. “Look.” He pointed at the screen. The reporter was saying that the family of the murdered doctor was offering a reward of £500,000 for information about Bryant’s whereabouts.

  “That’s a lot of money,” Ryan said.

  Bryant glared at him. “What will you spend that money on? A bag full of bones?”

  “Enough,” Rogers said, holding up a hand. “This place is secure. No-one knows we are here, thanks to Jenny. We can hole up for a few days, keep safe until the search dies down.”

  “Then what?” Bryant asked. “I am wanted for murder.”

  “Please, Bryant, be patient. We lie low for a few days, then see where we are.”

  “The others might be here by then,” Jenny said.

  Rogers nodded. “I hope so, Jenny. I hope so.”

  Others? What others? Bryant looked around the room but saw only grim smiles. Now what?

  3

  Bryant did not sleep easy. The house was large enough for them all to have a room to themselves. The twins elected to share, but that would be Joe making sure his brother was ok. Jenny went upstairs with Rogers, with Ryan following close behind. Bryant had got himself a glass of water then found an empty bedroom and clambered into the bed.

  Suddenly weary, he fell asleep immediately. Something niggled away in his subconscious. He kept seeing the doctor’s face as he bit into his neck. The nurse - mother of four - running from him, face white and tears streaming down her cheeks. Extra salt, mmmm. Bryant tossed and turned, sweat covering his sheets. The reporter, Simon whatever, screaming as he started to change. Bryant sat bolt upright, a moan on his lips.

  Something felt off.

  He looked down, saw the hairs running back into his arms. Changing in my sleep now.

  No, it wasn't that.

  He could hear voices. Low, clearly whispering. Two men. Arguing. Stadler was right about the hearing. It was so clear.

  Rogers and Ryan.

  They were coming for him.

  4

  “He is a liability,” Ryan said. He was talking quietly, but the anger in his voice was clear.

  “No,” Rogers said. “He will lead us to a new age.”

  “Now you sound like Callum,” Ryan said, with a grimace. “That did not end well, did it?”

  “Callum’s plan was flawed.”

  “You didn’t say so at the time.”

  Rogers snorted. “Nobody stood up to Callum.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Bryant is a soldier. He is used to leading. The others will follow him.”

  “Callum said the same about Stadler.”

  “Yes, but Stadler didn't want to join us,” Rogers said. “Bryant knows what he is. It’s different.”

  “The entire British army is looking for Bryant. The police too, judging by that news broadcast. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”

  “How long have we stayed here?”

  “Yes, but-”

  “How long?”

  “Three years, approximately.”

  “Right,” Rogers grinned. “So I think it’s safe to say that no one knows we're here.”

  “That was before we took a murderer in.”

  “You've killed people. We all have,” Rogers said. “Bryant is no different.”

  “That hospital was different. That was a bloodbath.”

  Rogers shook his head. “Yes, but he is only now coming to terms with his powers.”

  “You are joking?” Ryan laughed. “He knows what he is, yes. He knows what he can do, yes. He has studied Stadler. He is revelling in this and he is a liability.”

  Ryan slapped his hand on the table, the sudden bang making the other man jump.

  “Shh, you'll wake everyone,” Rogers said.

  “He is a liability with, as Americans are fond of saying, a price on his head.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You know exactly what I'm saying.”

  “So, we turn him in, get the reward and live out the rest of our days in secret?”

  “Yes.”

  “The army knows about us now. How long do you think before they decide to find us? How long before they decide to kill us all?”

  “They did not kill Stadler.”

  “Because they can't! What part of that do you not understand?”

  “We cut his head off. Now, whilst he is sleeping.” Ryan’s eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed.

  Rogers paused, a second too long. A second that would prove costly.

  “So, who’s going to do the cutting?”

  The voice from the doorway made them both start. Ryan leapt to his feet, spinning round. Bryant stood in the doorway, filling the frame. Behind him, Jenny was walking down the corridor, wiping sleep from her eyes. Joe’s pale face could just be seen behind her, which meant Henry wasn't too far away.

  “Bryant,” Ryan got as far as saying. Bryant leapt forward, changing as he did so. His pyjamas - given to him by Jenny - ripped, falling to the floor in tatters. He landed next to Ryan and bit hard on the other man's leg. In one bite, he severed the limb. Ryan screamed and fell back against the table. The wolf swung its head, still with the leg hanging out of its mouth, and hit Ryan with the limb. The blow connected with his face, and Ryan grunted. The wolf swung again and again, each blow thudding into Ryan’s head. Fresh blood mingled with that flowing from the severed leg. The wolf spat the leg out and changed back to Bryant, who rained further blo
ws on Ryan’s head, this time with fists. Bryant’s roar became louder than Ryan’s groans and cries until eventually Ryan stopped making a noise. Then, Bryant changed his hand into a wolf’s paw and punched through Ryan’s rib cage. He withdrew his human hand seconds later, holding Ryan’s heart. He flung it at Rogers who hadn't moved the whole time. Rogers turned his face as the heart hit his cheek with a wet slap.

  “Your turn,” Bryant snarled. He twisted Rogers head, snapping his neck with a loud crack. Rogers crumpled to the floor instantly and was soon covered in Ryan’s blood.

  Bryant turned back to the doorway. Joe and Henry had disappeared and Jenny stood in her dressing gown, chewing her lip. He found it an extremely erotic gesture.

  “They wanted to kill me,” Bryant said.

  She nodded.

  “Who’s side are you on?” he asked.

  She slipped the dressing gown off. Bryant grinned.

  Chapter 12

  1

  Bryant woke with a start. Jenny had a leg draped over him and he pushed it away. He stood by the window, letting the sunlight warm him. An interesting night.

  Today he would bury the bodies of Rogers and Ryan. Now that he was in charge, it didn't seem wise to leave the evidence of his coup lying around. Jenny could tell him more about the 'others' who were supposed to be joining them later. He was still none the wiser as to who these people were. Would they be happy that he had killed the man in charge? In the meantime, he would make peace with Joe and Henry, make sure they were on his side.

  I am very persuasive now.

  The sudden thought chilled him: would he kill the twins if they didn't accept him being in charge? A metallic taste filled his mouth, but he didn't feel sick. Quite the opposite in fact: he turned back to Jenny, not wanting to waste the feeling. She was awake-

  -pity-

  -and sat up in bed, making no attempt to cover herself. She smiled at him, eyes travelling down his body. She slid over the sheets, lowering her head. He felt the warmth of her mouth and then grunted. He grabbed her head, forcing her to take more. She started to gag and slapped at him with her free hand.

  -yeah, you love it-