Lycanthropic (Book 2): Wolf Moon (The Rise of the Werewolves)

by Morris, Steve

  ‘Good job,’ said Snakebite. ‘Ready for the next part?’

  Adam nodded. ‘Sure.’ This was his moment. A chance to prove himself at last. This mission depended on him, and he was proud that Leanna and Warg Daddy had trusted him with this responsibility. He owed Snakebite for that. The red-haired giant had backed him all the way, and Adam had felt real comradeship for the first time since becoming a werewolf. He wouldn’t let them down. No way.

  ‘You positive you can do this?’ asked Warg Daddy.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Adam. He looked up at the wall of the main hospital building. Eight floors in total. That was a long way down if he slipped. He’d just have to make damn certain that he didn’t.

  ‘Good luck then,’ said Warg Daddy.

  Adam checked the straps on his rucksack, pulling them tight and shifting the weight to make it more comfortable.

  ‘You don’t want to drop what’s in there,’ whispered Snakebite. ‘Or we’ll all go up in smoke.’

  Adam swallowed. The bomb weighed heavy on his back, but his wolf strength was a match.

  He’d had little difficulty making the explosives. All those hours spent attending chemistry lectures and working in the lab as a student had come to fruition, and the Wolf Brothers seemed to have no difficulty acquiring the list of ingredients he had given them.

  ‘The rooftop should be clear by the time you reach it,’ continued Snakebite. ‘Just plant the bomb, set the detonator and climb back down.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Adam.

  The moon was still hidden from view. The noise from the helicopter on the rooftop had dropped to a deep throb now and would soon stop completely. It was time to begin the climb.

  His eyes traced a path up the wall of the hospital, seeking out any pipes, window frames or other protrusions he could use for the climb. There were none that he could see. The walls of the building were made from concrete and there were no handholds on its smooth surface. But at each floor a narrow concrete lip jutted out, a gap of ten or twelve feet separating each level. A normal human would never be able to scale the building unaided. But Adam was no normal human.

  He positioned himself at the base of the building and bent his knees, preparing to spring. With a superhuman effort he launched himself upward and grasped the concrete lip that marked the top of the first level. The upper surface of the lip was dusted with snow, and Adam felt the cold bite his fingers. Muscles flexing, he hauled himself up onto the narrow ledge, scrabbling with his feet until he was standing flat against the smooth wall, one floor up.

  Next to him, light from a window shone into the night, and he could see people moving inside. Doctors, nurses, patients and soldiers. He waited a moment, but they went about their business, unaware of him clinging to the wall outside the hospital ward. The interior lights made it hard for anyone looking out to see his dark shape as he scaled the wall of the hospital. He let out a breath and readied himself for the next level.

  It was harder jumping up from the narrow ledge than it had been from the ground level, but he grasped the lip above on the first attempt. Once again he hauled his bodyweight up until he was standing, this time two floors above the ground. Still no one inside had noticed his presence.

  He looked down and saw the Wolf Brothers gathered below, watching his progress intently. Even dressed in black with balaclavas covering their hair and beards, it wasn’t hard to tell them apart now that he had got to know them better. There was no mistaking Snakebite’s gigantic form, nor Warg Daddy’s muscular bulk. The short guy at the edge of the group was Meathook.

  Snakebite gave a thumbs-up sign and Adam signed back to show that he was okay.

  He leapt up to the third floor, then the fourth and the fifth. He threw a cautious glance up at the sky. The pale moon was just beginning to peek through the thinning clouds. If the change came upon him now, he might well fall to his death. He needed to be quick.

  He jumped again, and again, scrabbling breathlessly up the sheer face of the building. At last he reached the top level and stopped to regain his breath. The concrete lip that jutted out above him and ran around the rooftop was thicker and taller than the narrow ledges that marked each floor. To reach it he would have to jump higher than ever. His arms were already aching from the climb, and his hands were chaffed from grasping and hauling himself up the concrete ledges. But he had no choice. He must go up once more.

  He pictured himself on the starting block of the 100 metre sprint, back in the university athletics ground, poised to win yet another race. The familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his veins, as he prepared himself to spring. No bright floodlights blinded his eyes tonight, but the orb of the moon was quickly lightening in the sky. Every second he waited, the greater the risk of failure.

  He closed his eyes and sprang, powering upward with his strong legs, feeling his toes leave the safety of the ledge and into thin air, almost a hundred feet above ground level. He reached out with his long fingers, grasping for the rooftop above. Every nerve fibre in his long body sang as he soared, but the weight of the bomb sought to drag him back down to earth.

  It’s too far. I’m not going to make it.

  He pictured his body tumbling down the side of the building to land in a crumpled heap, the bomb exploding and bringing all their plans to an end.

  I must make it.

  His flight seemed to last an age, but a fraction of a second later, his hands closed tight around the concrete sill that marked the top of the building, and he was scrabbling with his toes, hauling his feet, then his knees, and finally the whole length of his body up onto the high roof of the building.

  I did it.

  He lay on his side for a minute, panting breathlessly from the exertion of the climb and the thrill of the final leap. He had made it to the roof of the hospital. In the distance, to the north, he could see the sheer triangular shape of the Shard, London’s tallest building, and beyond it a cluster of other towers – the Gherkin, Tower 42, Sky Garden, and the soaring new skyscrapers of Leadenhall Street and Bishopsgate in the City of London.

  Thirty feet above his head stood the helipad, a huge metal and concrete superstructure mounted on the roof of the building. Lights from the landing pad lit up the sky, and Adam could hear the shouts of soldiers and the tread of men walking up and down the steel staircase that led up to the helipad, but the helicopter’s twin engines were silent now.

  He crept across the rooftop and readied himself for his final climb.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Brixton Village, South London, wolf moon

  The man who had opened the door to Melanie was aged around thirty, with a heavy muscular build. He wasn’t unattractive, but the corners of his mouth turned down in a faint sneer, and his eyes glittered greedily. He looked her up and down.

  Melanie knew what his eyes saw. All men saw the same. She shifted her hips to one side and watched as his eyes devoured the flowing contours of her body. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked. ‘It’s cold out here.’ She shook out her long hair to free the snowflakes that had collected there.

  ‘Sure, but, …’ The man nodded but seemed puzzled, as if his brain was playing catch-up with his libido. ‘Who are you? Did Ms Ali send you?’

  ‘No,’ said Melanie. ‘I came alone. I heard you had’ – she turned her head to look up and down the street behind her, then lowered her voice – ‘werewolves.’

  The man didn’t look too happy about that. ‘Might be,’ he said cautiously.

  Melanie stepped lightly up to the threshold and laid a hand on his. Even in her heels he was a good few inches taller than her. She lifted her eyes coquettishly. ‘I was just curious,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with Ms Ali. Just say if you want me to leave.’ She kept hold of his hand, rubbing one finger gently along his thumb.

  ‘No need to go,’ he said. ‘I’m not Ms Ali’s poodle.’

  Melanie smiled. ‘I didn’t think you were.’ She flitted past him and into the hallway. The house felt
warm after coming in from outside. She slid the coat from her shoulders and slipped it onto a coat stand. Then she turned to face him, letting him get a better look at her. ‘I’m Melanie,’ she said, holding out her hand once more.

  He took the hand and shook it carefully, as if it might break in his strong grip. ‘I’m Jack. Jack Stewart.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Jack.’ She glanced around the hallway. A wide staircase led up and a narrower one descended. The lower stairs were unlit and she couldn’t see exactly where they led. She forced her eyes back to his face and readjusted her smile.

  ‘So do you live around here, Melanie?’ he asked. ‘I don’t remember seeing you before. And I’m sure that I would remember if I had.’

  Melanie laughed. ‘Not far away. Not far at all. And I’m certain I’ve seen you before. What do you do for a living, Jack?’

  ‘I’m a chef,’ he said. ‘I work at a restaurant in the West End. Or at least I used to, before all the trouble started. I haven’t been to the restaurant for the past few weeks. I work for the Neighbourhood Watch now,’ he added proudly.

  ‘The Neighbourhood Watch,’ said Melanie in admiration. ‘That does sound impressive, Jack. And I love restaurants too. I’m such a greedy pig.’ She giggled.

  ‘Really?’ he said. She could see him eyeing her slender waistline.

  ‘Oh yes, Jack,’ she assured him. ‘I have a very healthy appetite.’

  His eyes slid slowly up from her waist and came to rest on the curve of her bosom. ‘And what is it that you do, Melanie?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh,’ she purred. ‘I do whatever men want me to do.’

  Her words startled him and his gaze returned to her face. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘You do?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I give them exactly what they want from me. I like to give them some surprises too. And in return they give me what I want.’

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple falling, then rising again. ‘And what is it you want from me, Melanie?’ he asked, his voice growing hoarse.

  She sidled slowly up the hallway toward him, and placed both hands against his chest. His heart thumped loudly under her touch and she rubbed him with the palms of her hands. She looked up. ‘I want to see … werewolves,’ she said. ‘Show them to me now, Jack.’

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  High Street, Brixton Hill, South London, wolf moon

  ‘Over here,’ whispered Vijay. ‘I think I’ve found what we’re looking for.’ A container of medical supplies stood open on the floor in front of him. It was packed with cardboard boxes of all sizes, each one individually labelled.

  Drake kicked at the box. ‘You’re on your own now then, mate,’ he said. ‘I can’t help you no more.’

  ‘Well just hold the flashlight for me,’ said Vijay. ‘And hold the list where I can see it. I’ll see if I can find what we need. And keep a lookout in case anyone comes.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Drake. ‘Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna forget to do that in a hurry. You do your searching quietly, yeah?’

  Vijay started lifting packets carefully out of the container, scanning the label on each one and comparing them with the items on his list. The box was a treasure trove, but he had no idea what half of these drugs were for.

  ‘Why don’t we just take the lot?’ suggested Drake. ‘Or at least as many as we can carry?’

  ‘No,’ said Vijay as he read the labels. ‘We must only take what we need to help Oscar. Stealing for personal gain is wrong.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Drake. ‘Just do it quickly.’

  ‘This is one of the items we need,’’ said Vijay triumphantly. ‘Fluticasone. It’s one of the rare ones.’ He carried on searching through the box. He managed to find three more of the items on his list. Only one was missing.

  ‘How do you even know how to say these words?’ asked Drake, squinting at the list. ‘You ain’t no doctor or nothing.’

  ‘They’re just words,’ said Vijay, continuing to rummage through the box. ‘I don’t need to know what they mean.’

  ‘Yeah, well, as long as you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘I do,’ said Vijay with a grin. He held a white oblong box up for Drake to see. ‘Dornase alfa. This is the one Rose has been trying hardest to get hold of. We’ve got everything we need now.’

  Drake held up the palm of his hand. ‘Yo! Teamwork!’

  Vijay slapped his own palm against Drake’s. ‘Teamwork!’

  They were gathering the cardboard boxes together when the storeroom door opened.

  ‘Shit,’ said Drake. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He grabbed two of the boxes and ran back to the window where they’d entered. ‘Vijay, come on!’

  Vijay scrabbled around for the other boxes. He struggled to pick up all three in his hands. One slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor.

  ‘Leave it!’ said Drake.

  ‘No,’ said Vijay. He hadn’t gone through all this just to leave one behind. It might be the crucial one that could save Oscar.

  The storeroom light flicked on with a click. The white light was blinding after the darkness and Vijay threw his hands across his face, dropping the boxes again.

  ‘Stop!’ said a voice. ‘Is caught!’

  The voice sounded like a kid’s. Vijay took his hands away from his face and saw a boy standing in the doorway. The kid was even smaller than Vijay and had a shock of brown hair sprouting from his head. He looked like he didn’t own a comb. The boy’s eyes were a deep nut brown and stared at Vijay with determination. Despite the kid’s small stature he stood tall, like he owned the place. He was the boy who always hung around with Kevin and Gary, Vijay realized. Vijay had never heard him speak before.

  ‘Stay here,’ commanded the boy. ‘I go fetch Grandpa Kevin and Uncle Gary. Then you in big big trouble. Is bad thing to steal,’ he said contemptuously. He turned to go.

  ‘No,’ said Vijay. ‘Wait. We weren’t stealing, really.’

  The boy turned back to face him and looked pointedly at the boxes that Vijay had dropped. ‘Is stealing,’ he insisted. ‘Is very bad.’

  ‘We weren’t taking anything for ourselves,’ said Vijay. ‘A friend of ours is very ill and needs medicine to make him better. We were just trying to help.’

  The boy regarded Vijay with suspicion. ‘You steal medicine?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Vijay. ‘We only took what we needed. We couldn’t find it anywhere else.’ He picked up the dropped boxes to show to the boy.

  ‘Who your friend?’ demanded the boy.

  ‘His name is Oscar,’ said Vijay. ‘Do you know him? His sister is called Rose. They live not far from here.’

  The boy seemed to recognize the names. ‘Oscar is boy who rides in wheelchair?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Vijay, nodding vigorously. ‘He has cystic fibrosis. He needs these drugs to keep him alive.’

  The boy seemed puzzled by the strange medical term. ‘And you only take medicine for Oscar?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No other stuff?’

  Vijay shook his head.

  The boy frowned, his smooth skin furrowing as he decided what to do. At last his mouth widened into a grin that revealed several missing teeth. ‘Okay,’ he said in a hushed voice. ‘You steal drugs for Oscar and I no tell.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Vijay gratefully.

  ‘But help tidy up first,’ said the boy, pointing at the boxes scattered over the floor of the storeroom. ‘Is very messy thieves.’

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Brixton Village, South London, wolf moon

  The man called Jack looked at Melanie uncertainly. ‘Werewolves?’ he said. ‘I’m not supposed to let anyone near the prisoners. Ms Ali said not to let anyone in. I shouldn’t really have let you come inside.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘They must be very dangerous. And there’s only you to guard them.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m not scared of them, though.’

  ‘N
o,’ said Melanie. ‘Not a strong man like you.’ She continued to rub his chest with her fingertips. ‘It’s just that I’m really curious. I’ve never seen a werewolf before. Perhaps I could just have a quick peek? Then we could carry on our conversation upstairs.’

  ‘Yeah, okay, let’s do that,’ he said. He didn’t move though.

  Melanie drew away from him and walked to the top of the cellar stairs. ‘Are they down here?’ she asked. ‘In the basement?’

  The man nodded.

  ‘Come on then,’ she said, pulling him by the hand.

  They descended the narrow stairs together, Melanie leading the way. A short passageway at the base of the staircase led to a wooden door. The man flicked a switch and a light flickered on overhead. The door was reinforced with roughly-sawn two-by-two struts, and an external bolt had been freshly added. The floor in front of the door was still flecked with sawdust. A brass padlock and chain kept the bolt secure.

  Melanie clutched the man’s arm tightly. ‘Are they in here?’ she asked breathlessly, her eyes as wide as she could make them.

  ‘Yeah,’ said the man. ‘But don’t worry, they can’t escape.’

  ‘Could I just see them for a few seconds?’ she asked. ‘If you’re with me, I’m sure I won’t be frightened.’

  The man looked nervous. ‘Are you sure you want to?’ he asked.

  Melanie nodded her head solemnly.

  ‘And then we can go upstairs together?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’d like that very much.’

  ‘Okay, stand back.’ He pulled a key from his back pocket and twisted it in the padlock. The lock clicked open. He slid the lock from the bolt.

  She could see a leather belt strapped around his waist holding a sheathed knife, but he didn’t take the knife out. Instead he grabbed hold of a metal rod that was propped against the wall and held it in his right fist. Then he slid the bolt aside and cautiously pushed the door open.

  Melanie had expected to find a dreary space with rough-hewn walls, but instead the basement was a comfortably furnished spare room containing a double bed with floral patterns on the duvet. A man and a woman sat together on the bed holding hands and another man was seated on a wicker chair. Melanie’s heart leapt in her chest when she saw that the seated man was Ben.