by Amy Cross
We run and we run. Across the city, and then through the outskirts of the city. For miles and miles. It feels as if we'll never stop running. I glance back a couple of times, hoping to see Duncan right behind me. But he's not there. He froze in shock and now we've gone too far. I can sense his presence getting further and further away, as if he can't - or won't - try to follow us.
Away from the city now, we're in an area of countryside, with the lights of the city shining in the distance. I glance over my shoulder for a moment, one last desperate chance to see if Duncan might be coming, but there's no sign of him. Looking ahead again, I suddenly realise that I can't see the other wolf. Frantically, I scan the horizon, hoping for some sign of it. I stop running and try to see where it is. I can't have lost it. It has to be -
Suddenly I realise that there's something behind me. I turn to my left and see the other wolf standing there, watching me. I move to within a few metres of it. Slowly, the other wolf shifts into its human form, but with the light of the moon behind it, it's still hard to make out any features.
I shift into my human form and wait for it to speak.
"It's okay," I say. "I understand. But... you can't keep killing humans like this. You're giving them an excuse to hunt us all down. You're playing into their hands, don't you see that?"
The dark silhouette just stares at me. There's something deeply unnerving about having this dark, unpredictable figure so close. If it can kill so many humans, who's to say it wouldn't also decide to turn on a fellow werewolf?
"Please," I say, "try to understand. Try not to let anger consume you. I know what humans have been doing to werewolves, but this... killing humans doesn't help".
The silhouette takes a step towards me. Part of me thinks it might be wise to run, to get away from here. Perhaps this wolf is insane, perhaps it can't control its anger and its rage?
"I'm like you," I say, careful to watch out for any sudden movements. "We're the same. We live in the same world, and we..." I pause for a moment, trying to work out what to say. "If you keep killing humans like this, you'll make it easier and easier for them to claim they have to kill us all. They've already started spreading a disease that can wipe us out. If you keep killing them, they'll attack us all. You're doing what they want. You're playing into their hands".
"I know," says the silhouette, stepping towards me again, close enough that I can see its face.
I step back in shock.
"I'm so sorry," Darla says.
10
"Darla," I say. "What..." I step towards her, but there's a look in her eye like... like it's not really her at all. She's staring at me as if I'm a stranger, as if any moment she might run at me and try to kill me, to add me to her list of victims. "Darla, why... Why are you doing this?" I ask.
She looks down at the ground for a moment. It's hard to tell if this is really Darla, or if the Darla that I know has somehow been taken over by a new personality. I can't believe that the real Darla - my Darla - would ever do these things, would ever kill people in cold blood like this.
"Darla -" I say.
"I know," she replies, and I can tell from the sound of her voice that this is still the Darla that I know, that she's still the same person. The only difference is that she's done these things, she's killed these people and... The last time I saw her, she was going home, back to the carnival.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I'm..." She paused again. "I went home," she says, her voice stuttering. "Back to the carnival, and... When I got there, they were all dead".
My heart sinks. "All of them?" I ask.
"All of them," she replies. "Killed by humans".
"You don't know that for sure," I say.
"Yes, I do," she continues. "There was one survivor, at least for a short time". She takes a breath. "Mena was still alive when I got there. Injured, but alive. She told me what happened. And then..."
"What?" I ask. "Is Mena okay?"
Darla shakes her head. "She's dead," she says. "And Stephen. And Allegra. And... even Vigrous Grinde himself. All dead. All slaughtered by the humans like... like common animals. Left to rot in their own blood. Ground up so that they couldn't recover. Crushed like vermin".
I don't know what to say to her. The thought that all those people, all those good people, have been killed... It's almost impossible to believe. How can such a thing happen? How can humans kill so many people? And Mena... I planned to go back and see her some day, to spend time with her, to get to know her. Part of me even thought that one day I'd find a way to get her back to the ocean, so that she could be free again. And now... they're all dead.
"The humans killed my new family," Darla says slowly. "Just like they killed my first family".
"What happened?" I ask.
She smiles weakly. "It was many years ago," she says. "The humans attacked out pack because we refused to go to the Scottish estate. We wanted to stay where we were. So they stormed in and killed everyone. I was just a child, but I managed to escape. I don't know how, but I slipped away. The whole of my family were killed. It took years before I was able to find anyone else, when the carnival took me in". She's close to tears now, and for a moment it seems as if she's lost in her own world, a world filled with dark memories. "I finally found a second family," she says quietly, "and what happened? The humans took them as well. They couldn't let me be happy".
"Like Duncan," I say quietly.
"What?" she asks.
"Duncan's family were killed by humans as well," I say. "Where was your family?"
"Kent," she says.
"Not the same pack as Duncan's, then," I say.
Darla shakes her head. "There were so many packs, spread across the country. They destroyed them all. They said we had to go to the Scottish estate, or we'd have to take the consequences. A lot of the packs agreed. They moved north and went to live on the estate. But my father insisted that he had to stay, he said that there was no way the humans would kill so many of us. He seemed so sure. I always believed my father, about everything. But this time, he was wrong. Very wrong".
I try to assimilate all of this, to understand how this tragedy from years ago, coupled with another tragedy more recently, could have pushed my friend so far over the edge. It's as if the scar runs so deep in her soul, there's nothing she can do to get rid of it. She was able to hide it, perhaps, until the carnival was attacked. But now she's unable to do anything other than let her past create dark, bitter currents in her heart. There's a real danger that she's becoming lost to this nightmare, a real danger that the old Darla, the Darla that I knew and who travelled to the Underworld with me, is being destroyed by this new Darla who wants to do nothing but take revenge for past tragedies.
"You killed people, Darla," I say. "You killed innocent humans. A baby -"
"The baby's still alive," Darla says. There's suddenly passion in her eyes, as if she's angry at me. "Do you think I'd kill a baby? Seriously, darling, come on. I'm not that bad. I... I didn't mean to take the baby, I just panicked. He's safe".
"Are you going to give him back?" I ask.
She doesn't say anything for a moment. "I'm still working out what to do," she says. "I don't really have a plan. I have to think and come up with something".
I step towards her. "Listen, Darla. Duncan and I are going up to the Scottish estate. You have to come with us. We'll be safe there".
"You believe that?" she spits back at me. "The humans promise not to attack. Again? And you actually believe that?"
"Yes," I say. "The humans..." I pause. It feels so weird to be referring to 'the humans' as if I'm not one of them any more. "The humans won't attack us on the estate".
Darla stares at me. "You're so fucking naive, Jess," she says. "Of course they'll attack us on the estate. They'll attack us everywhere. Anywhere that suits them. They won't be happy until we've been wiped out. They're pushing us back, mile by mile, giving us smaller and smaller places to live, and then finally they'll just decide there's no poi
nt even pretending to care about us any more. There's even a disease -"
"I know," I say. "We met someone who died from it".
"Who?" Darla asks.
"His name was..." I try to remember. "Garvey," I say eventually.
I can see, instantly, the sadness pass across Darla's face. "Garvey's dead?" she says, her voice shaking.
"You knew him?" I ask.
She doesn't reply.
"I'm sorry, Darla," I say. I reach out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she pulls away. "Darla, listen to me. We have to be smart here. If you keep killing humans, they'll have an excuse to kill all of us. And if you stay around Edinburgh, they'll get you eventually. They'll kill you".
"Garvey was a good wolf," Darla says, fighting back tears. "You see? Every time I think they've done their worst, the humans go and do something new. They won't stop. They'll never stop".
"Listen -" I say, trying to put my hand on her shoulder. But she interrupts me, pushing me away.
"Get back," she says. There's anger in her eyes, real rage. "If you try to stop me, I swear to God I'll kill you. This isn't a game. You've got the body of a werewolf, but you're still thinking like a human. You're not one of us. Not really. You never will be". She shifts into her wolf form, turns and runs.
I shift and follow her, but she's running so fast, it's hard to keep up. We run and run, up hills and down into valleys, and eventually - perhaps for the first time since I became a werewolf - I find myself tiring. I'm not sure I can keep up with her. I push on, determined to keep going, determined not to let her escape, but eventually we start running down another valley and I trip, falling and landing against a rock. There's a brief, sharp pain in my leg, and I worry that I'm injured, but I also know that my bones will mend easily and that it shouldn't be a problem.
I get to my feet, but already Darla is long gone. I scan the valley ahead, but I can't see her at all. I failed. I lost her. There, that's the real problem here.
"Are you okay?" asks a familiar voice behind me.
I turn to find Duncan, in his human form, just a few feet away. He has a look of concern in his eyes.
Shifting into my human form, I take a deep breath. "How did you find us?" I ask. I hadn't heard him coming up behind us, I had no idea he'd even managed to catch up with me after I left Edinburgh.
"I followed your scent," he says. "Was that Darla?"
I nod. "She's gone crazy. She's the wolf from the city, but -" I look out across the dark valley. "I lost her".
Duncan stares into the darkness. "There's a church," he says. "It's the only building for miles".
I follow his gaze, and finally I spot the little church nestled between some trees. "She said the baby is safe," I say. "She said she hadn't killed it".
"Come on," Duncan says, and he starts walking towards the depths of the valley.
I open my mouth to ask what we're going to do, but then I decide to just follow in silence. I'm pretty sure I know exactly what Duncan's planning. And the truth is, if I can't make Darla see reason, I don't see how we have any choice but to kill her. I guess I'm finally thinking more like a werewolf and less like a human after all.
11
The church is dark and seems totally abandoned. As Duncan and I walk through the cemetery, still in our human forms, it feels like we're the first people to come here in many years. The gravestones are crooked and in some cases cracked, and ivy has covered most of the church. When we get to the big oak front door, we find the list of sermon times is faded and almost impossible to read. The whole place just seems so run down, it's impossible to believe that anyone thought it could still be a functioning church. But the cemetery grass has been mowed, and it looks like the windows have been cleaned, so at least someone has been bothering with the place.
When we get inside, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It's cloudy night, so moonlight only intermittently streams in through the large stained-glass windows. The church is quite large, but the walls are bare and it looks as if the place was stripped for anything of value long ago.
"Look," says Duncan.
I look down and see a dead body smeared across the floor. It takes a moment to register that it's an old man, a priest, ripped apart and with his guts and entrails wiped everywhere. The blood seems to have dried, but the body still seems to be fresh, so it's only been a day or two since he died.
I lean over and look into his eyes. They're wide open, staring ahead with a look of total horror.
"She's here," Duncan says.
I look up. "I don't hear anything," I say.
"I do," he says. "I hear her breathing".
I listen, but I still don't hear anything. I guess this is part of being a werewolf, and it's something I still have to learn.
Duncan walks along the aisle, and I follow. Our footsteps echo through the church. It's really cold in here, so cold that you can see your breath in the air.
"Don't come any closer!" shouts Darla. Her voice is coming from behind the altar.
"Darla," I say, "we need to find the baby. We need to return it to the humans".
"Keep away," she shouts, but her voice sounds very uncertain.
"Darla -" I start to say, but Duncan suddenly walks forward and around the altar. I follow, and we find Darla is kneeling on the ground, holding a blanket containing the baby.
"Give it to us," Duncan says sternly.
"I can't," Darla says. She doesn't look up at us. There's a distraught, traumatised look on her face.
"You have to," Duncan says. "You've already done enough damage. At least give us the baby so we can try to undo some of it".
"You don't understand," says Darla, looking up at us, tears flowing down her face. "I can't!" And with that, she slowly holds the baby out to us and it becomes shockingly obvious that the child is dead.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I thought it would be okay," Darla says. "I thought if I left it here for a day or two, it would be okay when I got back. I don't understand why it died". She starts to sob.
"It's cold in here," Duncan says. "It probably froze to death".
I push past him and kneel next to Darla. "Give me the baby," I say, but she seems reluctant. "Give me the baby, Darla," I say, and this time she hands it to me. I look down at its little white face. Touching its skin, I feel that it's cold.
"This is going to mean war," Duncan says. "Do you realise that? Killing a child is the worst thing you could possibly have done. They'll get miles and miles of propaganda out of this".
"Duncan -" I say.
"No!" he shouts at me. "She has to hear this. Killing that baby could be the single act that causes the war that ends the werewolf species forever".
"I didn't mean to kill it," Darla says. "You have to believe me".
"Doesn't matter," Duncan says. "The humans will use it as propaganda anyway".
I look at the dead baby's face, and a sudden moment of hope overtakes me. "Duncan," I say, turning to him. "When I was attacked, you saved me by turning me into a werewolf". I hold the baby out to him. "Is it too late?"
He looks at the pitiful little corpse. "It only works for a short period after death," he says. "That thing has been dead for far too long".
"You don't know that," I say. "You've got to try".
He shakes his head.
"Fine," I say. I stand up, place the baby on the altar and place my hands on either side of its head. "Tell me how to do this," I say. There's no answer. I look up at Darla, then at Duncan. "One of you! Tell me how to do it!"
"You can't," Duncan says. "Only a natural-born werewolf has that skill. A convert like you has no chance".
"Tell me!" I shout at him.
Duncan steps closer. He pauses for a moment, then he sighs. "Focus," he says eventually. "Focus on the child's life force, and on all the possibilities that are ahead of it. Picture its future life, its potential. Try to imagine that it has a full life laid out before it. Believe in the child's future existence".
> I try to do what Duncan says, but it's so hard. I can't stop thinking about other things, like Darla's misery and Duncan's hard-hearted approach to all of this.
"Clear your mind completely," Duncan urges me.
I nod, and I try to clear my mind so that only thoughts related to the child's life are present. I imagine the child growing up to be a great political leader, or a great sports star, or a great thinker, or just a happy man with a family. I imagine hundreds if not thousands of possible future lives for it, stretching across the realm of possibility. And then I feel Duncan place one of his hands on the child's forehead.
"Focus," he says.
And suddenly my hands feel warm. It's the most unusual sensation, as if somehow I'm generating warmth that is being transferred into the baby. I keep my hands in position, and somehow the baby starts to feel more... real. It's as if I can suddenly see its future stretched out before me, millions of possible lives - not all of them good and happy, but all of them seemingly real - spreading out from this one moment in which the child has to live.
And suddenly the child starts to cry.
I remove my hands and look down as the child wriggles, opens its eyes for a moment, then closes then and cries at the top of its voice.
"I did that," I say, stepping back, shocked.
"You're a girl of surprises," Duncan says, smiling at me.
"I did that!" I shout. "I brought this baby back to life!"
"It must have been dead for just a few hours," Duncan says. "But still, that's impressive. For a new werewolf, I mean". He looks up, suddenly alarmed. "Darla!" he shouts.
I turn to see Darla running out of the main door.
"Wait here!" Duncan says firmly, and then he shifts into his human form and races after Darla. I grab the baby and run along the aisle.
