Wolf Asylum (3 page)

“Sorry, it's just been one of those days. Actually beer is probably a great idea. Mind if Caroline comes along? I promised her we'd let loose tonight and chase down some prey.”

“Only if we can get in on that action! What did you have in mind?” Clint asked like a child at Christmas.

“I thought we'd make a withdrawal from Special Handling and release them in the woods. While they run and spread the scent of fear, we can change and do what we do best. Then we can have ourselves some fun!”

“What's the celebration?” Tim asked.

“It's a celebration of who we are,” Darwin said simply. “It's time we let out our untamed animal. I thought it would be fun.” Darwin reached out for a beer while finishing off his JD with his free hand. “A part of me has been dying to go wild. Nothing has compared to my first kill. I'm curious to relive it.”

Clint passed a beer to Darwin and Tim before seating himself. “I've never really done that before. What's it like?”

Tim broke in, “My first kill could never be recreated. When I killed those assholes from school with my bare, changing hands, I'd only had the gift in me for an hour. I'd never changed before. I got to learn about the gift as I killed. It was a real mind fuck!”

Darwin smiled, “don't you want to look your prey in the eyes in your human form, tell them they have ten minutes to run as fast as they can? Part of me is developing a keen sense for the fear that humans emit. If they know what I am and what I will do to them—that fear will build inside them as they run. The smell will be secreted throughout the woods and there will be nowhere for them to hide. Doesn't that thought excite you?”

Clint shrugged in a noncommittal way before drinking his beer, “sounds like a lot of work for a meal, but I guess it does have an appealing side to it.”

“I think our sophisticated existence, the breeding program, the hospital, the homeless shelters…that's all great. We have food to sustain us, but at the same time we've restrained our inner animal. I want to explore it—let it out.”

“Hear, hear!” Tim said, raising his beer for a quick toast before bringing the conversation back to sophistication. “How was the meeting with Riverview?”

“It was a meeting.” Darwin started thinking about his earlier lie. “The Director of Riverview doesn't want New Haven to have the facility. Fortunately for us, he was overruled. The hospital will be relocating here very soon. It sounded like the faster we can take the patients the happier Riverview would be.” Darwin paused a moment then pressed on. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

Tim and Clint both nodded their heads in unison. Settling in to their chairs with a beer in hand, the two waited for their friend and master to open up. They knew if Darwin was asking for an opinion, the matter had to be a serious one.

“I have a nagging feeling that something is coming for us. I can't put my finger on it.” Darwin again opted to keep his secret. If they knew the voices of the underworld had spoken to him they would realize the threat was serious, but Darwin wasn't there yet.

“Of course they're coming for us!” Tim said. “We made a lot of people disappear. There's always going to be people nosing around looking for loved ones who just disappeared. We've been having that happen for months already. Our stock answers are still working and we still control the investigative bodies. Sure, the time may come where we are forced to infiltrate federal agencies to help keep the secret, but the plan worked! Okay, we could be more proactive and monitor the internet; quash rumors before they begin-but I'm not aware of anything big causing us problems, are you?”

Darwin looked back to the lithograph for answers but saw the same thing he always did.

War.

Darwin sighed. “We took away thousands of people and locked them up underground so they could be our food. We got away with it. I don't think what's coming has much to do with that. I don't know, Tim, I just don't know.”

“Whatever made us is protecting us, and will continue to protect us,” Tim said confidently.

“I agree. I feel like nothing we do is stoppable. Every time a problem comes up we deal with it swiftly.” Clint replied.

Darwin looked at his friend, “that's just the point, Clint. We might be getting complacent. If the outside world became aware of our existence there's no telling
what
kind of problems we might have. The days of the witch hunt might just resume. We must do everything in our power to ensure that never happens.”

“What are you suggesting?” Tim asked.

“We must look to expand beyond our borders. Our kind
must
come into positions of power outside of New Haven. If we don't do this, I'm afraid our existence will be a short one.”

Darwin continued explaining his vision in more detail. His two students listened without interruption.

The bond between the captives quickly eroded. Less than two minutes running full tilt ahead of the hunt, the frontrunner had already pulled well ahead of the others…so much so the dawdler's whimpers could barely be heard.

Nancy Betmin was a former Ridgemount track star and although she had been out of school for many years, she had kept up her athleticism. Six months of imprisonment had eaten away at her frame considerably, but the fresh air and prospect of freedom gave her the energy and drive she needed to pull away from the others. She had no idea of where she was or where she would go, only the knowledge that she needed to move quickly and take any opportunity that appeared.

It was no secret what she was up against. For months captives in Special Handling had known what their purpose was. The prisoners knew they were nothing more than a frozen dinner waiting to be consumed by the next hungry beast. Folklore was discussed, plans were formulated, but as their numbers continued to decline the prisoners began giving up and opting for death, instead. At feeding time, the defeated would make their way to level one and hand themselves over to bring about an end to their suffering. On this night Nancy and three others were the lucky ones selected. In the early days of Special Handling, selecting people to die was difficult—now the opposite was true. Death was a gift. When prisoners were requested to hand themselves over on level one, anyone wishing to die could go when called; but not all would be selected.

Nancy had gone to level one every day for two weeks hoping she would be selected. It was Darwin himself that chose Nancy. From a platform beyond the gates, Darwin pointed at the young woman and told her to move forward. He had only selected her because out of the entire crowd she appeared to be the most worthy to offer him an honorable chase.

Now panting heavily, Nancy ploughed through the bushes in search of a safe harbor. Her eyes had adapted to the darkness of the mine and she found being outside, she was able to see better at night than ever before. Finite details emerged to her within the blur of leaves and rocks. All she could do was keep moving and pray for a miracle. Time was no longer a certainty.

Was it one minute, or five?

She knew she had ten minutes but how many had already elapsed? A selfish thought entered her mind; she would know how close they were by the screams of death coming from behind. There would be three, but so far there had been none.

She would keep running no matter how much her body hurt.

“Think, Nancy!” she mumbled to herself under her short breath.

Nancy knew her clock was running out and if she had any hope of survival, she had to become inventive in her thinking. She knew running was a waste of time, but it was also necessary to put distance between herself and her killers. In her heart she knew out running her attackers could never succeed. She was simply too weak. She needed to mask her scent and attempt to hide; perhaps waiting out her hunters' patience. She ran ideas through her mind but without certainty of what could actually work, desperation began to set in. Breathing deeply through her nose, she hoped she would catch the scent of another animal or plant…but all she found was snot sickles draining from her nostrils.

The silhouette of a path emerged; it was narrow but defined, like a game trail. She locked her sights on the constricted line and quickened her pace. With fewer obstacles colliding with her, she began to increase her distance from danger by leaps and bounds. Above the trail in the opening of the trees, the nearly full moon cast its light on the path illuminating the way. The tunnel in the trees seemed to stretch on forever and the harder Nancy pushed, the smaller her corridor became. She wanted to collapse and wait for death, but something inside her told her to press on. Salvation was near, she could feel it.

In the distance the monsters began to change. They were coming.

If Nancy could have stopped sobbing and snorting long enough, she may have heard the demonic transformations and howls of joy happening. Her mind had moved into survival mode and nothing else computed with her. She had been running so fast she hadn't realized her feet were bleeding from the jagged rocks she had cut them on during her flight. The blood would help to amplify her course for her pursuers; she was unaware how grave her situation was becoming.

The sounds of change ended and a new shrill filled the woods; the commencement of the hunt. A distant growl and the forest was again silent, but only for a moment. The first kill came quickly; a man that Nancy had not known personally but had seen as they were escorted from the mine. He was in his forties and not in good shape. His screams were short lived, only to be ended with a gargle that drifted through the tree tops like the chime of a clock.

The second strike came on the heels of the first; a woman in her fifties that Nancy had known as Julie. She had been independently wealthy, the beneficiary of a large divorce settlement ten years earlier. She was snuffed out with a whimper.

Nancy was running out of time and unless something occurred to her soon, she knew that Darwin would be lapping at her backside in mere moments. The trees seemed endless, as did her escape route. The smell of skunk cabbage drifted past her nose briefly and she considered stopping to investigate. The smell was pungent, but would it be enough? Her mind went binary, flipping between zero and one; yes and no before siding with no. She reached down inside her soul and found the last spec of adrenaline in her spirit and stoked her inner fire. She moved on faster than before, her sobs restrained as she focused. Her next few minutes would be live or die for her.

When she hit a man-made gravel intersection, it reminded her of a walking trail at McCarran Park. With a nearly full moon above in direct alignment with her new path and an owl flying overhead, Nancy pressed on with meek optimism. Her binary decision marker switched to an emphatic yes. It was all she could do aside from giving up entirely.

The third kill chime never came, or if it did, Nancy never heard it.

Fear and blood painted the way through the trees and Darwin had become aroused at the prospects. He had now left behind his pack in pursuit of his own kill. Darwin had selected Nancy because he could see her vigor for life was still present in her, even if she thought otherwise. The chase had ended quickly for his friends and they were enjoying a supple meal, but Darwin was far more satisfied running through the night chasing a worthy prey. The odor of fear she had left was faint compared to the other inferiors, but the blood from her feet gave Darwin an edge.

It pleased him that Nancy had made great distance in such a short time. If anything, the more difficult it was to catch her the more it excited him. She would meet her end, but her stress of trying to evade her slaughter gave pleasure for Darwin to no end. Her attempt to out run him was hopelessly futile…she was only delaying the inevitable. He wondered if she was thinking of how it would happen. Would she be torn to pieces, or left to bleed out? Would Darwin bite her and make her his sex slave? The excitement infused him and he could barely control himself.

Darwin's wolf stood on his hind legs at the edge of a large, grassy area in what he knew to be the McCarran Park picnic area. The footprints of Nancy Betmin briefly entered the grass, leaving distinct marks in the dew. The prey was cunning; having realized her mistake, she had retreated quickly from the grass, back-stepping over her footprints returning to the gravel then moving away from the barbeque pit. On a hunch Darwin ran across the grass leaving behind the smell of copper. His instincts told him that his meal was moving towards the picnic huts.

The park was deserted but the picnic shelter contained many scents. Darwin could smell other members of his community who had been there earlier in the day. A strong odor of a lamb-like meat hung thick near the grill. In the center of the shelter was a fire pit and chimney. The brick tower was closed by a large cast-iron door. His prey could have gone only one place. He strolled over to the chimney, huffing and licking his fangs as his hind claws raked the ground. She was inside the chimney; a clever spot, but not clever enough. Her smell had become masked by the burnt flesh of others, but her blood still hung in the air strong enough for him to detect.

Darwin stood on his hind legs and reached out with his claw and tore open the iron door but found nothing. Frustrated and energized, he shoved his head inside the brick tube and looked up into the blackness. Soot trickled down into his colored orbs causing him to flinch and howl in anger. The stack was clear. His prey had managed to evade him, but she had been here.

Darwin cleared his watered eyes and moved on. The smells from the shelter fanned out over the grounds like a cloak. Finding Nancy had become a little more challenging than he anticipated, but she was out there. Her smell was fresh; unique. It would only take a little extra time for Darwin to find her. His gut told him that she would be making her way towards the lake. At the lake she could swim or perhaps find a boat. Darwin's heart raced with the possibilities. His prey knew how to thrill him.

He charged down the gravel path seeing the lake in the distance. There was still no sign of his dinner and her aroma was becoming masked with new smells. She had used the ash and soot of the barbeque pit—he was certain of it. The smell of fear was gone but the lingering scent of her sweet, candied blood and charcoal remained. Her tactic had slowed him, but only for a moment.

On the shore of Silver Lake Darwin had lost the blood scent again, instead finding her prints imbedded in the beach sand leading into the water. From the shore he could see the clouds of silt rising from the lake bottom where her feet had impacted. The plumes of debris illuminated her path better than her scent ever could. What was more helpful was Darwin knew the water would slow her down and the chill of the lake could cause her to become hypothermic. Moving parallel with the lake, Darwin followed the submerged trail. He was impressed how long Nancy had remained in the water. It appeared to Darwin she never attempted to swim, but only to wade in hip-deep water as though she knew masking her scent was her only hope for survival.

Darwin could barely contain himself knowing his prey couldn't be much further ahead of him. Nancy would exit the water soon—she would have no choice. Her pace had been slowed and the cold would certainly be killing her. Perhaps the chill would kill her faster than Darwin. Surely she would have know that.

Darwin recognized the sound that was coming; at first starting as something beyond the trees but grew in size as he approached it. He had reached the headwaters of the Thompson River, the mouth of the river that started at Silver Lake. The spring snow melt meant the lake was high and the river was running strong. The silt footprints in the lake were being sucked into the Thompson like a draining bathtub. The river swallowed her path completely along with any remaining scent. Nancy was gone, washed down river.

Darwin stopped in shock. He watched as the river flowed away from the lake like a highway. It was carrying away his prey from him at high speed and with no smell to follow, he would be left to his instincts. Would she wash down stream until death took her? Or would she attempt to crawl on shore and continue her flight…Darwin knew what the river was capable of and her frail, mortal body would not stand up long to the currents of nature.

Darwin began charging along side the river moving deeper into McCarran Park—the river would not release its secrets—at a foot bridge, Darwin stood center span overlooking the river. Neither up stream or down stream could he see or hear any sign of his beloved prey. He was left with a decision.

If I were her, how long would I stay in the water? Which side would I exit from? I know where I am…where would be the best place to escape to?

Standing on the bridge he considered his limited options. Women fared better in cold water and it was possible she could stay in the river for a long-time. That was of course, assuming the river itself did not eat her. Darwin began to realize his prey may have escaped and with her she took knowledge.

Darwin raced down the embankment beginning his blind search. He would have to be fast and systematic, checking as much of the river as fast as he could. He would no longer be looking for charcoal or fear. He knew even the blood would be all but gone. Now he would be hoping to pick up the smell of wet dog or something similar. In reality, he knew anything out of the ordinary would have to be investigated. Darwin attempted to clear his mind of any preconceived ideas but his animal mind was easy to distract. His mind kept drifting back to what he knew; the trail he had known. Before it had been easy, but now he felt like he was looking for prey that never existed. With each passing minute he knew the challenge was growing larger. In his heart he knew this was becoming a security breach and an embarrassment. Darwin was responsible for it, and it would bode badly for him.

He searched one side of the river for several miles before crossing and running back on the opposite side. At no time did he find any evidence of Nancy or any other human activity.

She was gone.

After miles of running, Darwin finished his hunt back at the bridge. He stood up on his hind legs and began to revert to his human form; his frame shrank and his hair receded. The razor claws for Nancy retreated back into the finger tips of his hands. His ears lowered and the bloodless fangs subsided. Darwin stood naked in the night air looking at the river that had beaten him and helped one of his undesirables to escape. In human form but with his eyes still colored with the wolf, Darwin now wondered what he should do. He supposed he could come back in the morning…continue his search down stream in the hopes of finding her corpse. He could call out search and rescue right now, but that would expose his mistake.