"Offended? Hell no," Martin muttered. "I'm just glad he has such good friends."
"He has good family," Mom corrected. "I'd like to think we're part of it. Justin sees him as a brother—you know that already."
Talk turned to the new house after that, and I was glad. I hoped Uncle Karzac was helping Mack, too, because he wasn't talking much after the events of the afternoon. Getting attacked by Randall Pierce, even though he was only hitting the car with a bat, put both of us on edge.
"Honey, you haven't said what you want for your birthday," Mom interrupted my thoughts after a while.
"Oh. Man, I forgot all about it," I shook my head at her. "It doesn't matter," I said. "A cake and ice cream. Mack will like that for sure." My birthday was less than two weeks away and with everything else that had happened, it slipped my mind. I'd be eighteen. Mack had already turned eighteen the first week of August, so for just a few weeks, he was a year older than I was.
This year, he'd been so preoccupied with the attack and everything else that followed, he'd forgotten to tease me about it.
* * *
Mack talked to Karzac for more than an hour, then took a nap afterward. He woke up around six-thirty, just in time for dinner. Mom made chicken and dumplings, another favorite meal for both of us.
Mack's dad liked it, too, I could tell. He'd stayed to eat with us because Beth had classes and would grab something on campus to eat. He and Dad talked during the meal about the construction manager job with Dad's company. I could tell Mr. Walters was going to do just fine.
* * *
"You going to the football game Friday?" I asked Gina when we walked to class together the next morning.
"No. I have to work," she said. "I'm saving for college. I have a scholarship lined up, but it doesn't pay for everything."
"Understood," I nodded.
"I don't have to work Sunday night," she smiled shyly.
"How about dinner and a movie?" I asked.
"That sounds great."
"Pick you up at six?"
"Yeah."
I probably wore the goofiest grin ever as we walked down the hall, but it was worth every second of potential embarrassment. I had a girlfriend and I was going on a date.
The only thing that came close to making me that happy was this; Mack and I learned that Randall Pierce and all four of his friends were suspended from school for two weeks for what they'd done to my car in the school parking lot.
For as much as my Honda had suffered, it turned out to be for a good cause. Gina told us the news at lunch, and I watched as Mack shifted in his seat. I could almost see the weight dropping off his shoulders, and only realized then what the bullying had cost him.
My thought about the whole things was that Randall had to be the worst prick ever to pick on Mack when he'd already been traumatized enough.
More news came on Thursday—the six who'd been hospitalized after the attack would make a brief appearance at the memorial service before the game. So far, they still hadn't spoken, but were responding to directions and commands well enough that their doctors thought it safe for them to go out with their families for a while.
Mom had a strange look on her face, though, when Mack and I told her after school.
"This isn't good," she shook her head. "Look, why don't you order pizza for dinner. I need to find your father and your uncles."
* * *
Adam's Journal
"The timing is close enough—what do you suggest we do if they turn at the memorial service?" Kiarra asked. Joey, Dragon, Lion and Karzac had joined us for an emergency meeting in my study. Justin and Mack were waiting for a pizza delivery and had no idea how much danger the school could be in.
"Whose bright idea was it to let them attend the memorial anyway?" Joey scoffed. "That's lunacy."
"It was lunacy to arrest young Mack," Dragon pointed out. "So far, I have failed to detect an overabundance of clear and prudent judgment. These humans have short memories and shorter attention spans. Just because they haven't seen further evidence of spawn, they believe the problem eliminated. Nothing is farther from the truth."
"We're so used to seeing this on other worlds," Kiarra said. "And the attacks are never this soon after a previous infestation. It has only been twenty years for us since the events in Corpus Christi."
"Things are changing," Pheligar appeared. "I dislike what may happen at this confrontational sporting event. Therefore, I shall be there in disguise, in case shielding is needed to keep your efforts from prying eyes."
"Thank goodness," Kiarra's shoulders sagged in relief.
"Do not become overly stressed," Pheligar rubbed her shoulders gently. "While your pregnancy is not evident at this time, it is never good to allow anxiety to rule your life while in this condition."
I lifted an eyebrow in curiosity when a large blue hand wandered to Kiarra's belly, where he stroked and comforted her body carefully. "The child is growing nicely," he said softly. "We will make sure that continues."
I'd never seen the Larentii show this much affection to anyone, and it surprised me. Where was it coming from? Was he so angry with Thorsten that he was allowing other emotions to surface?
Before I joined the Saa Thalarr, I would have been eaten alive with jealousy if someone else touched my wife. Once you become a member of that tiny, exclusive race, any jealousy you have is removed. As long as it's with Kiarra's permission, it doesn't bother me. The same goes for me, but I have no desires in that direction.
I'd found what I wanted.
* * *
The move Thursday happened with help from Dragon, Lion and Pheligar. Everything we needed at the new house was transported with power while Kiarra and I made suggestions as to placement.
Most of the furniture wasn't making the move—I wanted to redecorate, so Kiarra let me know what she wanted and I arranged for it to arrive at the proper time.
Clothing was sent over and landed in closets and inside drawers. The pantry and garage were emptied. I was satisfied with all of it when it was finished, and draped my arms about my wife while we surveyed the new house. For me, this was home—the one from my early days with my family.
To Kiarra, she was stepping into the world I'd known so long ago.
"I hope you like it," I said, leaning down to kiss her.
"I do. I know Justin likes it, too. That's all that matters."
* * *
Justin's Journal
The new house waited Thursday after school, and Mack and I wandered through it when we arrived. His bedroom was already furnished, and he liked the new king-sized bed Mom and Dad bought for him.
Joey donated a laptop for Mack to do his assignments, and he was happy with that. The pool waited, too, and we got to swim before dinner. The only thing that put a damper on all of it was the game and memorial service the following day.
On Friday, the school was decorated as it usually was for the first football game of the season, but a somber mood stalked the halls behind squeaking athletic shoes and student conversations.
A huge poster hung in front of the trophy case, depicting the students who'd died in the attack. Room was left at the bottom for other students to offer their condolences and it was already covered with words.
Mack wouldn't even approach the poster, as so many others were doing. He'd watched those people die, in horrible ways. Gina linked her arms with ours and led us away from it toward English class.
At least Dad managed to get the headlights fixed on Mom's Jeep before we'd had to drive back to school, but the dents and dings from the baseball bat and rocks remained as evidence. We found a crowd around the Jeep when school let out.
At least they politely got out of the way when we arrived and climbed in to drive home.
"This sucks," Mack mumbled as we drove through the gate and onto the street outside the school.
"Still planning to come with me tonight?" I asked.
"Yeah. I'll come. I'm just glad your dad will be driving us.
"
"Me, too," I said. "Gina, do you have a ride to work tonight?"
"Mom takes me," she shrugged. "I'll be thinking about you tonight."
"Thanks."
* * *
Early evening that Friday was hot, and I hoped it would let up for the memorial service and the game afterward.
"Dress light," Mom poked her head inside my new bedroom.
"On it," I said. I had a nice pair of cargo shorts and a white polo laid out on the bed. Somehow, I felt weird, like the air and rising heat in Fresno was going to stifle all of us when we got there, but that thought was shoved aside.
I think Mack was just hoping to get through the night without breaking down.
We rode to the football field in Dad's SUV in near silence—Mack and I stared out our windows in the back seat, seeing the roads and traffic without registering any of it. I couldn't explain how I felt—like something was about to happen and I had no idea what it was or how to stop it.
"We're here," Dad said, pulling into a parking spot and shutting off the engine. "If you two want to sit higher up on the bleachers, you can. Your mother and I will sit farther down."
"We'll sit with you," Mack said before I could answer Dad.
"Good enough," Mom put an arm around Mack's shoulders.
Surprisingly, a comfortable breeze blew through the stadium, which was unusual for the middle of September. We found seats right behind the railing on the first row, by the goal line. I have no idea why Dad chose that spot, but he evidently had some purpose in mind.
I didn't argue. The air was cool enough to keep us comfortable, and I wasn't about to question that. Most of the crowd had already arrived, so it was less than ten minutes before the memorial service began.
The football team stood with their helmets off on the sidelines as six students, Marilee the tallest of them, were led toward special seats on the field. The band was nearby, as were many teachers, the Principal and Vice-Principal.
The school board was also sitting on the field, waiting for the state Superintendent to begin the short service.
She never got past the first few words of her speech before Marilee and the five others stood, their skin dripped and split off them and the ugliest, nastiest creatures fell on anybody close enough to get caught.
Chapter 5
Justin's Journal
Pandemonium is the best word I can find to describe what happened.
As it turned out, there weren't just six who became monsters. Others were mixed in the crowd and they did the same thing Marilee did. So many things happened at once—so many deaths—that I can't sufficiently describe the carnage that ensued.
Instead of running toward an exit like everybody else, Dad pulled Mom against him and leapt over the railing to the football field below. I blinked at Mack for only a nanosecond—he was growling and his eyes were going strange.
"Come on, dude, let's go with Dad," I shouted at him. He let me grab his arm and drag him over the rail, where we dropped onto the field and struggled past fleeing tuba players to get to my parents.
By the time we got there, things had certainly changed.
Dad had claws at least a foot long on his hands, and he was using them to cut heads off a swarm of creatures attempting to get to him.
Mom held a glowing sword in her hand—I had no idea where that came from—and she was doing the same thing.
Mack?
He no longer stood beside me. A tall, almost shoulder-high black wolf had taken his place. I watched in stunned surprise as the wolf growled before leaping at one of the creatures that rushed Mom.
Okay, that pissed me off. Those things were after Mom and Dad? While I had no explanation for that, it made me madder than I'd ever been.
More creatures were coming, too, and I was terrified they'd hurt Mom. She was pregnant, after all, and that hit me like a ton of cinder blocks.
I went after the monsters, then, shouting at them to leave her alone.
Except that wasn't what came from my mouth. To my ears, it sounded like a roar, and a really loud roar on top of that.
There had to be at least two hundred creatures there. The wolf took down his share. Dad killed many of them while Mom's blade flew faster than the eye could follow. I had claws similar to Dad's, but where he remained human, I saw my claws at the end of the most unusual appendages ever.
Folded wings were held tightly beneath what I considered my elbows, while I clawed, bit and spit out chunks of creatures before ripping heads from their bodies. Beheading was the best way to kill them, I learned, but I used my tail to protect my back.
It whipped back and forth in angry, jerking motions, knocking creatures toward Dad, Mom and the wolf. I didn't have time to question anything—I only had time to protect my family and hope the other people got away.
People screamed, sirens screeched; someone from the press box announcer's booth yelled that the southern entrance was the best way to escape. Dad shouted at Mack and me, but his voice was lost in the confusion.
I kept fighting—I didn't know what else to do—until there were two monsters left. Dad killed one of them while the last creature thought to attack Mom from behind. I lunged, swatting him with my tail toward Dad, who neatly beheaded him as he sailed through the air. That creature, like all the others, exploded in an angry, forceful blast of black sand.
The ensuing silence was more frightening than the noise during the attacks. I worked to catch my breath, my lungs sounding like a bellows as I panted on the fifty-yard line. The wolf came to sit before me, his golden eyes blinking at me in curiosity as I struggled to even my breathing.
"Justin?" Mom's blade disappeared in her hand—to where, I had no idea. She approached me slowly, her hand held out in a calming gesture.
"He doesn't know how to turn back," Dad said, walking toward Mom. "Young Mack, are you all right?" He dropped a hand on the wolf's head.
The wolf turned toward Dad and whined.
"Just think of being human again," Dad said gently. The wolf disappeared and Mack reappeared—completely naked. Mom covered him up with a blanket that magically appeared in her hands.
"Justin? Son?" Dad came toward me. I didn't know what to do, and I suppose my brain was too addled to think clearly. I had no idea what I was and was only then beginning to feel like a monster myself.
"You are no monster," a very tall, blue man appeared before me. "You will stop thinking such erroneous thoughts immediately. Now, I will help this time, but next time, you must do this on your own."
He held out a hand and I dropped to the ground. My arms were back to normal, at least—because I hugged myself while my breaths remained ragged and uneven.
I was still dressed, which came as a surprise.
What was I?
What was Mack?
For that matter, what were Mom and Dad?
"This is not the time to ponder those questions," the blue man continued. I figured that he was at least eight or nine feet tall. "You must come with me before the authorities arrive and attempt to arrest you."
One minute, I stood on the grass of the football field, surrounded by family and my best friend, who'd just become strangers. The next, I knelt beside the indoor pool at the new house.
Without blinking, the blue man held up a hand and Mack was dressed again, the same as he was before the attack. "I suggest watching the local news. I shielded your participation in the event," he said. "However, I did not disrupt the broadcast of the turnings or of those that came from the seats to assault attendees. It is time these humans knew what was attacking them."
He disappeared, leaving me staring after him in shock.
* * *
Joey, Karzac, Uncle Lion and Uncle Dragon were all there when we had our meeting. Joey brought boxes of pizza. Somehow, he knew Mack and I would be starving. The last person to arrive, oddly enough, was Mack's dad.
"I'm proud of you, Son," Martin Walters ruffled Mack's dark hair. "Most werewolves don't acquit themselves so brilli
antly on their first two turns."
"What?" Mack stared at his dad. I'll admit, I was staring, too.
A werewolf? Mack was a werewolf? How did that happen? Was he bitten?
"Werewolves are born, not bitten," Joey patted my arm. "Mr. Walters is the Fresno Packmaster. They don't tell the young ones until it's time—it's easier to fit in with humans that way."
"But Beth," I floundered. Beth was Mack's sister. She had a boyfriend. How did that work?
"Beth is also a werewolf, and as female werewolves are rather rare, she is promised to the Sacramento Second. At least they like each other," Mr. Walters sighed.
"Dude?" I turned to Mack. "Is this how you got away?" It was dawning on me, then, just what it all meant and how he'd survived. It also accounted for his memories of running on all fours to get away. He'd done exactly that.
"It is," Mr. Walters confirmed. "I believe he may have killed one or two of those monsters at Shaver Lake, but the wolf knows when he's outnumbered. He ran; that saved his life. I've been waiting for signs of the turning since then. It happened tonight. I'm glad he was with you and your parents. Of all the people who'd understand," Mr. Walters said.
"But," I began.
"We weren't sure about you, Son," Dad said. "You don't realize what you are, either, because you couldn't see yourself. You impressed Pheligar—he spoke to you directly."
"But," I repeated.
"Justin, we had no idea what you'd be, or whether we could be certain that you'd turn. You're a Wyvern, honey. A red-gold Wyvern. I wish you'd seen yourself. You were amazing against those spawn." Mom gave me a tired smile.
"Can you tell us now what those—spawn things—are?" I croaked. Somebody had kept those things secret. "Why were you fighting them? Have you seen them before?"
Dad smiled at Mom and patted her hand.
"It's what we are and what we do—we fight spawn and the ones that make spawn," he said. "Living in Fresno and running a business is just a cover."
"Joey, am I dreaming after a really bad sci-fi movie?" I turned in his direction.
"Nope." He grinned at me. "I'm their healer." He pointed toward Mom and Dad. "I don't have much to do, usually, because they're good at what they do and don't get injured much. That leaves me time to do all the computer work for your Dad and design video games on the side."
Wyvern and Company Page 6
