by Traci Briery
"But I'd be… It'd be like… I don't know," she said, shutting her eyes. "I had a new job… I was dancing again. Really dancing, and then… this…"
"You can dance forever now," a female said. "You will always be young, and strong."
"A cure…" she said, opening her eyes. "I was… looking for a cure. How do I go back? Nothing I read or saw could help me. Tell me how to be human again!"
"You don't wish that," the alpha said. "That would be your death."
"No, there has to be a way besides that!" she said. "A silver bullet can't be the only way!"
"I didn't mean your death that way," the alpha said. "I meant you—" she pointed at her, "—would die. Could you kill half of yourself?"
"I don't… want to die," she said. "I can't live like this! Always in fear! Afraid to talk to anyone! Please! Don't let her kill me!"
"You are in such conflict with yourself," the alpha said. "We have never sought a 'cure' because we never believed it to be a disease. We have accepted both sides. We welcome the wolf. You fight against it, though it is a part of you now. You would no longer be complete without it. The harder you fight it, the harder it fights back. The moon is no longer our enemy. It makes us change, but we welcome it, and can control it if we must. Even now it is difficult to maintain your form because you fight against it."
"Then you're the reason I stand erect now," she said.
"Yes. And if you leave, you will return to your true form for the night. As we will, also, but because we wish to. There is still the hunt tonight. Come with us. Hunt. Your old life need never haunt you again. You will never know what true and total freedom is until you join us."
The pack sent up a chant of "Join us" as they moved closer to her, now surrounding her in a tight circle. Many hands reached out and caressed her as they circled around, still chanting. "Join us, join us, join us."
Soothing smells and touches soon brought her into a trance. She closed her eyes and breathed in the pleasant aromas slowly, then sighed. Warm hands and arms caressed and massaged her as they passed all over her body. She reached out blindly, and a hand took hers and patted it gently. It was warmer than usual. It was covered with fur.
She opened her eyes and gasped. The pale, naked bodies were now covered in brown, red, black, or gray fur. A score of green, brown, and red eyes peered at her from fanged, black-lipped, furry faces. She pulled her hand away and began to back up. She bumped into somebody's furry chest, then panicked and broke away from the circle. Her thoughts were bombarded with feelings of great puzzlement and concern. The alpha wolf stepped away from the circle, but Loraine/wolf held up a hand. It, too, was covered in fur, and her body was following quickly. Her voice was guttural now.
"Can't," she grunted. "I—can't!" An instant later she was racing away from the pack and toward the hills. Her heart pounded to keep time with the pounding of her feet. She had been ready to welcome them, and was suddenly filled with great terror. It was perhaps her only chance to escape them now, if they did not decide to track her down and keep her prisoner. She felt their call in her mind—it was as strong as always—but this time it only spurred her flight.
The rest of the pack had rushed forward in that instant that she had bolted, but the alpha held out her arms. She shook her head as the others stepped back.
"But she—" one protested.
"We will always welcome her," the alpha said. "She can run, but cannot run from the call. Someday she will answer it."
Silence followed while their changes were completed. The pack was in their full four-legged form now. They were still in their circle when they all sat and howled for their prodigal sister.
She stopped her mad flight and pricked her ears to listen. There it was. She had never heard it before, but knew what the howl was for. Her eyes teared, but she shook away the tears and continued the run.
Chapter Thirty
She felt their presence at all times, but not as a calling. It was simply a "presence" that could be heeded or ignored, if she wished. She did wish to ignore it, and hunted alone as she always had. Strangely, her appetite was small mat night. One small animal satisfied her, and then she spent the rest of the night exploring and basking in the moonlight. The memories of that horrible cage were fading quickly; she was free, thanks to the pack, but she needed to be free of them, as well.
The moon was low in the sky now. She would be forced to sleep again once the sun came. She remembered being in that pale, naked, two-legged form, and shivered at the thought of it. She was bound to be chilled to the bone… unless she found the colorful skin that all two-leggers wore. With a grunt she leaped into a run toward the city lights.
She sensed some two-leggers, but far away. They slept during the night; she remembered that. It was such a shame to waste the moon like that. She found a part of the city where one could see right inside the caves. She passed by many of them, until one displayed its colorful skins within. She pushed at the door, which resisted. Shifting into an erect form, she grabbed hold of the handle and pushed harder. It resisted, and then snapped open, sending her rolling across the floor. She ignored the chain lock and deadbolt that had snapped in two from her strength. To her, the door had just seemed to be sticking.
She kept low and sniffed at the ground. The floor reeked of past scents, but nothing was recent. So many skins… what would keep her warm? She was growing frustrated, but snatched two skins and raced from the building. She bounded across the street and between some buildings, unaware of the two-leggers who arrived moments later in response to a silent summons.
Bushes, and then some woods provided splendid cover for her. The moon was nearly gone now, and the sun was peeking in between the trees. It was no longer comfortable for her to be on all fours. She shifted to two legs and rubbed her cold, furless arms. She shivered from the chill of the morning air, then bent over and rubbed her body as her beautiful fur disappeared once again. A soft, sad moan escaped her pale lips.
Loraine stayed crouched a few moments longer, wondering why she needed to fight off tears. She was not surprised to find herself naked, but was surprised to find clothing beside her. She picked them up, price tags and all, and smiled.
"It worked," she whispered.
The too-small shirt was tucked into her too-large pants. There was no belt to hold them up, and the shirt left little room to breathe. They were much better than the alternative. Her plan was to find the cheapest motel she could find before working her way out of Los Angeles. She ducked into the shadows or around corners anytime a police car drove by, which was seldom, fortunately.
The city was slowly waking up. Loraine took care to use sidestreets and alleys while seeking some means of finding money, or shoes, whichever came first. The thought of a cardboard sign crossed her mind; it made her laugh in frustration. She had no watch, so she had to use clocks in stores and at car dealerships to tell time. Finally she spied possible salvation: a branch of her bank. Going inside of any public place was probably a terrible idea, but she had no choice. She pulled up her pants and held on while going inside. She was the only customer. None of the employees seemed to notice her bare feet yet. She raced up to a teller.
"Listen," she said, "um… my wallet was stolen. This is my bank, and I need money, but… well, you know, everything was in the wallet. Could I just give you my name, and I think I even remember my account number. Can I make a withdrawal, please?"
The teller was new, and called over her supervisor, who began preparations for replacing Loraine's ATM card. For verification she was forced to remember her account and social security numbers, not to mention her mother's maiden name. Only after the supervisor brought out Loraine's new card did she notice the bare feet.
"Uh… ma'am, you really shouldn't be in here without shoes," she said.
"I know, I'll be buying those, too," Loraine said. "Everything was stolen."
"Oh, dear, do you mean you were robbed?" the supervisor said, running the new card through the verification machine.
"Yeah," Loraine said. She drummed her fingers impatiently while the verifier dialed in to the mainframe. Finally the proper numbers appeared, and the supervisor handed her the card.
"Thanks," Loraine said, and started to leave.
"Oh, wait, ma'am!" the woman called out. "It won't work until you enter your personal code!"
"Oh, shit, that's right," Loraine grumbled. Her mind went blank then. What did they used to be? She couldn't remember. Then the perfect code came to her: 9653. "WOLF." She punched them as quickly as possible, and was out the door as soon as the woman announced her card to be active.
Loraine scanned the streets immediately after leaving. No cops. She raced to the side of the building, jammed the card in, and requested the maximum of three hundred dollars. Her pants almost fell as she stuffed the bills into her pockets. She rushed into the first clothing store she could find and threw down the cash for sandals and a belt. She was only slightly more presentable now. Next stop would be the bus station. Or… the cops would be looking at places like that, wouldn't they? There had to be a dragnet going on for her. She was a fugitive from justice, after all.
The original plan to find a cheap motel was put into action. Of course, cheaper meant more dangerous in Los Angeles, if that's where she still was. This was not a familiar city, at least. Perhaps she was somewhere in the next county. That would be to her advantage.
She found a run-down place that "asked no questions."
There was little about her to question, anyway. Her pants were baggier than a trash bag, but stayed up thanks to her new belt. She grabbed the key and took the stairway instead of the elevator. No sense being trapped in a box if she needed a quick getaway. The room was at a middle floor. Closer to the ground was preferable, but she couldn't be choosy. Loraine looked both ways down the hallway, and unlocked the door.
Inside was a tiny bed, tinier bathroom with a dirty sink, a dresser, a twelve-inch television, and somebody on a chair, reading a newspaper. Loraine gasped and stepped back from the threshold.
"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry! That guy screwed up and gave me your room! I'll just_' The stranger lowered his newspaper. Her newspaper. Loraine's jaw dropped and eyes bugged out. After a long silence she forced her mouth and tongue to move again.
"Tamara?" she said. Tamara folded up the newspaper neatly, then tossed it onto the bed. She gestured toward the bed.
"It's your room," she said. "Don't you want to come inside?"
"My—my room?" Loraine said. "You mean—you're not staying here?"
Tamara smiled. "Well, you know, I can see how anyone would kill to stay in a place like this, but… I don't know, I usually settle for Marriotts and Hyatts."
"Wha—? Oh! Uh, yeah, of course you'd—Jeez, I better get in." Loraine stepped inside and shut and locked the door behind her. "Wait a minute," she said, wagging her finger at Tamara. "How did—? I mean, you—Shit, you know what I mean, don't you?"
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Tamara said. "Sit. On the bed, or did you want the chair?"
"Maybe I'll just stand. Wait, you know where I am. Does that mean the cops… ?"
"I don't think that anyone else on earth knows I'm here but you," Tamara said. "Not even the manager knows."
"You snuck inside? Why?"
"Oh, I don't know. For fun, I suppose. You don't want to sit?"
"How did you know what room I was in?" Loraine asked. "What hotel? Where I was… at all? What's going on?"
"I followed my nose," Tamara said, tapping it and smiling. She pulled out a file and went to work on her nails. "Guess things got pretty hairy for you last night, huh? I heard about the jail. I think some cops were killed. Were they?"
"I… I have no idea," Loraine said.
"Yes, you do," Tamara said, leaning forward. "You could remember everything, if you'd just stop fighting it all the time. You only end up hurting yourself more."
"Wait a minute, you're starting to sound like… like… I don't remember what like!"
"Like the pack?" Tamara offered.
"The pack…" Loraine whispered. "My God… Uh—I'll sit down." She fell onto the edge of the bed. After a pause Tamara got up and sat down beside her.
"Yeah, I'm sure they thought they were doing you a big favor, busting you out like that," Tamara said. "But they've just screwed you even more, huh?"
Loraine seemed to have been ignoring her, but then shot up from the bed and backed away slowly.
"You were… you were with the pack?" she said. "You followed me because you're with them and—Jesus Christ, you're a werewolf? You??"
"Shhhh, it's okay, hon," Tamara said, rising and holding out her hands. "I wasn't with them last night. I'm on my own. I've been on my own for years now. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"But you're a werewolf!"
"Well, so are you, dear," Tamara said. "I knew it from the first. The pack knows you're here just as much as I do. They might even know that I'm here, too. They won't come after us, though. Trust me."
"How could—you be a werewolf?" Loraine stammered. Her face was flush, and her hands quivered. Tamara took small, slow steps toward her, but Loraine backed away each time. Soon there was no more space to back into.
"Same as you, I suppose," Tamara said, shrugging. "I was bitten while on a camping trip, long ago. You know, it's funny, but did you know that being bitten is really the least common way to be brought over?"
"Uh… yeah, I, uh… read about that," Loraine said.
"While trying to find a cure, you mean," Tamara said. Loraine nodded. "You know, I didn't do that at first. You see, I was brought into a pack almost right away. Not your pack, or not the ones who wanted you. Another one."
"How many packs are there? Are werewolves all over the place something?"
"Nahh, I doubt it," Tamara said, going back to her chair. "I really don't know, to be honest. Packs do a good job of keeping out of sight, away from people, which isn't very easy these days, you know."
"I can imagine."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't very happy with my life at the time, so I welcomed them," Tamara said. "And you know, it may have just been the time that I was happiest. Running free, living off the land, being with a family. A pack really does have a… like a stronger bond than a 'real' family, but in a different way. A pack is so close that it's like a group mind. Does that make sense?"
"I remember… talking to someone who said almost exactly what you said," Loraine said distantly.
"The wolf can never be fully suppressed when the moon is out," Tamara said. "You can keep your human form, in time, but the wolf will do all the talking. And you can talk to it, you know. It can talk to you, too."
"So werewolves are all basically schizophrenics?"
"Uh, well, I wouldn't put it that way exactly, but there's a dual personality there," Tamara said, nodding. A silence followed. She stared at Loraine, who seemed baffled. Then Tamara stood up abruptly.
"Don't you get it?" she said. "Do you think I hired you because you're a werewolf like me? No! I hired you because you're a great dancer! You'd tapped into that part of you that made you push yourself to the end, that made you the dancer you are now, and still could be! You found the wolf!"
"But I know that!"
"No, you don't know that," Tamara grumbled.
"What?"
"You're just like how I was!" Tamara said. "I figured it all out, too. When I tapped into it, I could sing. I could finally sing! I'd always wanted to, but nothing worked. Singing lessons, choirs, all that shit. I still sounded like a cat in a waffle iron. Then I was brought over, and—and I found the wolf. Finally I found that part of me that could make me sing! But even then I tried to reject it. I knew why I could sing, but I was convinced that it could still be just me doing it, without the wolf. But it doesn't work that way."
"So you're saying that I sucked until I turned into a werewolf? That's bullshit!"
"You know that's not what I'm saying," Tamara said. "Maybe it'd help if you thought of it as… oh, a
focus for what was there already. You've always had the drive and the urge, just like I did, but no focus. If the wolf is what finally did it for you, then embrace it! And as long as you believe that you don't need that focus, you'll never be the best," Tamara said. "If you figured out that the wolf made you the dancer you are, then why are you still dissing it?"
"Huh?"
"Why are you still trying to smash it down and do it on your own? To shove it into a corner? To kill it?"
"I don't wanna go out killing people every goddamned full moon!"
"Have you killed anyone?"
"How the hell should I know, I can't remember anything in the morning! I may have killed my best friend! Do you think I haven't tried to remember what happened?"
"Why don't you ask it what happened, then?"
"Ask it? What are you talking about?"
Tamara sighed. "Guess we've got a long way to go."
"I guess so," Loraine said. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's not worth it to get messed up in this. First I was wanted for murder, and now the next thing I know I'm a fugitive because some mangy hounds busted me out! I'm only here for today, and then I'm getting out of town fast."
"So you're choosing to stay a fugitive?"
"Who's choosing, I don't have a choice!"
"How about staying here and proving your innocence?"
"Yeah, right," Loraine said. "Maybe that'd work in a movie."
"Hmrnmm," Tamara said, and was lost in thought a moment. "Do you wanna know why I left the pack?"
"I guess so. I mean, yes, why? You said you were really happy."
"I was," Tamara said. "Like I said, I didn't really feel… connected to anyone. My family was never really that close. My parents probably had plenty of love for us, but didn't know how to show it. So… when I was first brought over, naturally I was scared shitless. The pack showed me that it didn't have to be a total nightmare every month. It could be a good thing. The wolf doesn't have to kill and destroy; it can create, too."
