Capitol Kidnap: Urban Werewolf Book 1

by Mel Corbett

  "What if it's real?" the woman on the radio said. The other DJs stop talking. Their shock was palpable through the radio. It was if they couldn't even consider the possibility. Uncomfortable silence filled the van. Jeff took the exit for the hotel. Then, the woman asked, "How would you feel if I were really a selkie?"

  "A what?" The man asked. Naomi's ears perked up. She didn't know what a selkie was either.

  "A shape shifter like them. What if I could turn into a seal and back into human at will." Why would she say a mythological race most humans wouldn't recognize, unless she was one?

  "You telling me you think this thing is real?"

  "I'm asking, would it change anything? This Naomi woman, she was born right here in Auburn. I was born in Stockton. We are from here. We are Californians. Americans. If she does have this fantastical shape shifting ability, then does it matter? She's a US citizen. She has the right to habeas corpus, fair trials, free speech." Naomi's phone started to vibrate. One of her coworkers. She rejected the call. "What if I could turn into a seal right in front of your eyes?" The radio woman paused. Again the horrible awkward silence. Naomi's phone vibrated again. Another coworker. She turned it off. "Would you think I was a freak? Would you be afraid of me? Would you try to kill me for being different?"

  "Of course not," one of the male DJs said. "But you're just a person, this is a hoax. If it were real – it was all staged. It had to be."

  "These people in the footage – she looked really scared," the woman insisted.

  "Actors trying get some kind of big break." A strange shuffling noise came through the speakers. "Oh shit! Shit!" The male DJ suddenly exclaimed. "You're a – a–"

  More strange noises. "A selkie," the woman said.

  "She came out too!" Bryan gasped.

  "This is real," the woman said. Jeff turned off the bug, cutting off the radio. "We're here," Jeff said. He shrugged. This was it. What Bryan had wanted. What Mac had wanted. What Naomi wanted and hadn't even realized. It was real and it was now. For good or bad, the secret was out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  NAOMI PACED NEXT TO THE window in the hotel room. The curtains were drawn tight, and hopefully no one had recognized her from the newscast when she'd hurried into the room, wearing bug eye sunglasses. Once they woke up, Ian, Marcus, and her mother would not be happy about the way that things had turned out. Especially not her mother. Of course, now her mother would have no choice but to let her and Bryan keep on with their lives such as they were. Bryan was relatively safe from her mother's wrath in Davis, and was probably getting accosted by all kinds of people curious about what it was like to be a werewolf.

  Her mother rolled over, her first movement that Naomi'd seen since she got back. A lump pressed in Naomi's throat. She'd rehearsed a dozen ways to tell her mom about what happened at the press conference, but none of them seemed right. Hopefully her mom was wrong, and the others were right. Hopefully she could convince her mom to… to do what? She didn't know.

  The men tossed and turned. Naomi paced. She'd lead with the good stuff. Bryan was fine, she was fine. They'd been late to the press conference. Bryan hadn't been tortured.

  Her mother sat up and looked around the darkened hotel room.

  "Oh no," her mother said. "We're in hiding, aren't we?"

  "What? No," Naomi said. "You were under a sleeping spell. I didn't think the house was safe."

  "Is it too late? Is Bryan…?"

  "Bryan is fine. He's back in Davis with Mikey."

  Her mother nodded.

  "He didn't get tortured," Naomi said. Her mom saw it in her face, that damned human lie detector trick of hers.

  "What happened? You were too late. You failed. You thought you could be an alpha and I knew you'd fail. You're not ready–"

  "Mom! Shut up!"

  Her mother stared at her, stunned.

  "Listen to me for once. Bryan is fine. No one got tortured. He chose to go with them. He was sick of hiding what he is, and… and so am I."

  "What did you do?" Her mother's eyes narrowed and her mouth drew tight. Naomi shrugged and turned on the tv. It didn't matter what channel, they were all still talking about it.

  "– this shocking revelation that supernatural creatures are indeed real is – "

  "What did you do?" her mother asked again.

  The men stirred on the other bed.

  "Our secret is out. Bryan and I… we shifted in their press conference."

  "You what?" her mother shot off the bed and shoved Naomi against the wall.

  "They think it's passed on through bites, they don't know the rest of the family is…" Naomi trailed off. Her mother wasn't looking at her. Her mother was looking at the window.

  "They know about you two?" Mom shook her head. "It's only a matter of time. It's only a matter of time before they come for us, like they did your grandpa." Her mother stumbled back from her. "I can't… I have to distance the family from you two. I can't be seen with you… this isn't good. Not at all. You're not my daughter anymore. Bryan – he's not my son. You can't contact us. You and Bryan have to stay away from the family. We have to go on like we're normal."

  "But Mom, it's fine. No one got hurt. No one was arrested. No one's coming for anyone."

  "Yet," her mother stepped through the door and slammed it behind her.

  Naomi slumped onto the bed as the two men woke to the slamming door.

  Hi, I'm Mel Corbett and I live in Davis, California with my husband and two furry puppies whose nightly rough house sessions provided me with the real life examples to make the werewolf fight scene believable. When I'm not writing about werewolves (or aliens or vampires or…), I'm usually busy doing triathlons or studying Spanish and linguistics.

  Also, if you enjoyed this book, please visit MelCorbett.com and join my mailing list so that I can let you know when I've got a new story coming out.

  I've also included a sample chapter from my upcoming book, (very tentatively titled) Evolutionary Bottleneck. This book is set in a post-apocalyptic world that is very loosely inspired by the History Channel's Ancient Aliens and Giorgio Tsoukalos hair, because I'm not saying it was aliens, but the only possible explanation – the only possible explanation – is aliens.

  Sample Chapter - Evolutionary Bottleneck

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  HUNTER KNELT DOWN AND EXAMINED the deer tracks. She spotted droppings in the leaf litter not too far away. She thrust her fingers into the droppings – still warm. The animal couldn't be far. She laid her bike on its side a few feet from the trail and covered it and the trailer under a camouflaged sheet. Her hand touched on the hilt of the knife before her mind even registered the sound she had heard. Her eyes flicked around and she saw the source, a small squirrel she had disturbed. She smiled. On another day he might be a good meal, but today there was deer to be had.

  She jogged softly along the game trail, following the deer's tracks and careful to stay upwind. Funny, she'd run these same trails before to lose a few pounds. Now she ran them to eat. She came around a corner and through a break in the trees she saw the buck's antlers peeking above the tall yellow grass. She slowed her approach and crouched down so the deer wouldn't see her. They'd learned to fear people again in these last few years. The hunt used to be easy. The deer and the turkeys would stay within a few yards of the old bike trail not even reacting to foot traffic.

  Hunter pulled her bow and a few arrows from her quiver. She planted the arrows tip first into the dirt and strung the bow, slowly, carefully so as not to make any noise that might frighten the deer. Even if she struck true, there would be a chase. Fall had made him fat and lazy, but he was strong. Her clan would eat well for weeks off of his flesh. She'd been made for this world. She knocked one of the arrows and aimed carefully. She was too far. She crept closer. She feared the rustle of the summer grass would spook the deer. She brought up the bow and took aim a second time. She aimed just to the right of the buck to avoid missing because of the wind. Her breath came in deep and steady
. She waited for that soft moment just at the end of the exhale. Her fingers released the tight cord and the arrow flew, hitting the deer with a soft thunk. It had flown true, burying itself deep into his rear thigh. He leapt into the air and his harem bolted, their tails showing white. With the arrow, he was far slower than the does.

  She followed him at a brisk jog, slipping the bow into the quiver. She would have to collect the other arrows later. He leapt the broken down fence into a backyard of one of the houses. The area had been abandoned for years, but Hunter still feared looters and scavengers who might take her hunt from her. She vaulted the fence using one hand to stabilize herself. She never would have imagined she could jump like a deer in the time before. She shook her head. That time was gone. She only had to focus on following the deer. She hadn't seen him vault into one of the other yards, so he must have went through the missing gate to the street. She saw his large antlers resting in the shade of a tree. Thought he'd lost her, had he? She kept up her steady pace. When she approached he bolted again. His tongue was hung from the side of his mouth covered in white spit like a dog's. He was overheating and her arrow in his thigh wasn't helping him. A short chase then.

  She followed him easily through the familiar neighborhood. It had been home once. He would bound away and try to hide in the overgrown brown weeds. She would approach, hand to her knife in case this was the time he wouldn't get up. She was nearly on him this time. He forced himself to his feet and pushed off into the air. He was running slower. She picked up her pace.

  BANG! A shot rang out like a thunderclap. The deer crumpled to the ground. A gaping wound in its side. Hunter darted behind thick oak. Terror rushed through her. She peeked around the tree looking for the sneak who had stolen her kill. The gun poked through a busted window a few houses down. That deer was dinner for a week, maybe a month. She'd be damned if she'd let some punk with a gun steal it from her. She needed to feed the clan before winter.

  "That was my kill and you know it!" she shouted from behind the tree. She drew her bow and knocked another arrow. It might not be as fast as a gun, but it was what she had. The gunner was silent. She peeked around the tree. The gun was gone from the window. She softened her gaze, her eyes looking for any sign of movement. Looters usually travelled in packs. Nothing. The front door opened slowly. Once it had been dark green and a white storm door had stood in front of it. She raised the bow. The gun suddenly skittered down the front walk. Some kind of trick. It had to be. His buddies in the other houses were waiting for her. She knew it.

  "I'm not interested in your kill," a man answered. "Take the deer. I'm just looking for information."

  "Information?" she repeated doubtfully.

  "I'm looking for someone." No one looked for anyone. You only did your best to survive. If you got lost, separated, well then you were dead. "It's just me. I'll come out now." A tall man walked through the door, his hands raised towards the sky. A looter, the gun and the blue jeans proved it. The gun lay a good five feet in front of him. He could have another hidden in a holster or down his back. She didn't trust the act. Another gunner could be watching for her through the windows. He was tall and big. At least six foot and powerfully built. Hair cropped tight to his scalp. She'd been married to a man like that once. She couldn't let him get close. He was too big for her to take on her own.

  "I don't want no trouble and you can have your deer. I'm just looking for someone. She used to live here. Before."

  "In Rancho?"

  He shook his head, no. "In this house." She had a clear shot of him. "I was gone when it happened."

  "That was a long time ago." Hunter let her eyes linger on his face, on his form. A scar ran down his cheek and through his hair. It could be him. It could be a trick. She had a life now. Her own clan. Another mouth could be one too many. "What makes you think she's still alive?"

  "Hope." He took a step forward.

  "That was ten years ago. Even if she's still alive, why would she want you?"

  She leaned against the tree. Questions flooded her mind. Was this real or had she snapped? Her senses seemed to be in order. She could feel the hard wood scraping her back. She'd heard stories of people trying to return to before. One day they'd be normal, the next they'd go to a shopping mall and believe it was full of people and shops and phones. They wouldn't leave. Easy pickings for scavengers. Madmen who couldn't handle the world as it was now.

  "We were happy once. I loved her." She'd lost it. That was the only explanation. What kind of man kept searching for ten years? This had to be a break with reality. She shook her head.

  "Keep the deer." She started walking away. She could feel his eyes on her. He wasn't real. She had to get back to her home. Her clan would take care of her.

  "Jennifer?" he called after her.

  "Jennifer is dead." She could hear his feet running after her. Imagination. Crazy. "I'm Hunter," she said to discourage the ghost. He caught her by the shoulder and spun her around. A ghost couldn't have done that. Her hand went to her knife and suddenly she was staring into her husband's eyes. It was him. He was real.

  "I came back for you, Jen." She kneed him in the groin and ran as fast as she could. She ran through a yard and leapt the fence, coming once again to the grassy field where she had shot the buck. She flew across the field and retrieved her arrows, collapsing into a sobbing heap just inside the tree line.

  She'd mourned him ten years ago. She'd fantasized about him coming home for months after it first happened. Hunter made her peace with his death or the hope of him making a new life for himself there. Him crossing the country, making it here, back to their home, and finding her outside of their house ten years later, that possibility had never crossed her mind. There were things from before and things from after. The two worlds looked the same, but were very different. He was definitely a thing from before. She had been soft then and open to everything. Now she was hard. Everything was for the clan, what would he mean to them? It was best that she'd run. Mixing the before and after would only cause problems. She'd done the right thing running.

  She heard him traipsing through the field behind her. He walked awkwardly through the high grass. She'd kicked him hard and he was hurting. She watched him from the shadows. He called out for Jennifer and stumbled through the grass. She could leave now and disappear into the trees along the trail. She'd just be gone. Still, he'd been looking for her, wanting her, loving her all these years. She owed him more than a knee to crotch.

  "I'm sorry." He stopped moving and stared towards the sound of her voice. She rose to her feet slowly, nearly stumbling like the deer. She felt weak as if her heart had broken all over again. "I'm not that girl anymore."

  "How could you be? It's been ten years." He took a step towards her and she tensed, ready to run again.

  "Then why did you come?"

  "I had to have something to live for." He shrugged. "Finding my wife seemed like the perfect reason."

  She stared at him.

  "I can go," he said.

  "Don't." She watched him. He had tracked her from a distance, followed her to her old haunts, and found her. He stood stock still staring at her. The awkward movements in the grass had been an act, to lure her out of her hiding place as surely as she had run down the deer. His posture mirrored hers, hand on a knife hilt at his belt. The gun was holstered down his back. She tensed and feinted left. Only his eyes moved.

  "I didn't expect to find you at the house." He took another step towards her. She held fast this time. "I was just hoping to find some sign as to where you might have gone." She answered with silence. "Was it you that took that picture?" He swallowed. "From our honeymoon? The others were all broken." Fresh out of college, they had been like children splashing at the edge of the beach. It was ruined when she nearly drowned in the flood.

  "It's gone now. Why did you really come?"

  "We were going to start a family. Do you want that still?" His hand drifted away from the knife. His eyes clouded over. "Or do you have y
our own?" She was only Hunter. She had her place in the clan. They would be happy with little ones, but she had never considered a family after him.

  "You came back to make babies?" It would be so easy to run now. Disappear into the trees, snatch up her bike and ride back to the RV.

  "To be with you."

  "To be with Jennifer, not Hunter." She shook her head. "Jennifer is dead and gone."

  "You were Jennifer once."

  She shook her head. "Not anymore." He sighed and turned away.

  "Let me help you with the deer," he called over his shoulder.

  She hesitated only a second. "I'll need my bike." She gestured towards the tree line.

  "You know the way." She watched him move out of the field, now that he'd recovered a bit from her kneeing him, his stride became balanced and easy. Like a hunter's. Like hers. She swallowed hard. She couldn't bring him back with her. She'd take the deer and go. He'd let her do that. Wouldn't he?