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LYKOS Second Skin Chapter 18 (Flashpoint)

The twisting halls of the Beta Site facility had not changed, but they felt so different to Marco as he moved along between his two escorts. Every step felt like a confirmation of his new resolve. Coming so close to losing himself had been hard, but the path back had left him feeling reinvigorated, renewed, and dedicated. He stood taller, his shoulders were spread out, his eyes had the spark of life to them - and the guards had noticed. Marco could smell their fear, he could hear their hearts beating fast, and that was a sign that he was on the right path.

The door to the interrogation room opened. One of the guards tried to push him in, but Marco shifted his weight and braced against it. Their shove had no effect. The guard tensed. It had been an attempt to assert dominance, to reclaim his place as the apex predator. It had failed spectacularly. The other guard raised his weapon and Marco heard the safety click off.

"The doctor is expecting you." The second guard said. Marco had to give him credit, it was a far more effective power play. Marco stepped into the room wordlessly, waited for the door to shut and finally felt the vibration in his handcuffs as they released. He pulled his arms apart and stood. As much as he was feeling better, being cramped in the cells made it a relief to stand at any time. Marco's ear twitched as he heard the faintest of clicks on the line as the speakers snapped on.

"I must admit, Alpha, that was quite the interesting solution to our experiment yesterday. I must give you credit." Doctor Neer commented. Marco smiled.

"I don't think you saw there being a solution to that freak show." Marco replied. He was rewarded with the faintest of pauses, a gratifying feeling to keep his captor off his balance.

"There were some variables that were outside of our predictions, that is true... But the result speaks for itself. We have learned a great deal about-" Neer was cut off as Marco jumped in, his eyes flashing a bright amber.

"You don't know what you saw, do you? You're groping in the dark, trying to figure out what makes werewolves tick. You use the language of science, but you're playing around with the supernatural, mixing things together, trying to see what happens. You have artifacts, you have lore, you have herbs and trinkets and you think that makes you a collector, a curator, a scientist." Marco shook his head, "You are Sigma. You are outside of the Alpha, the Beta and the Omega. You tried to find the answers to questions you shouldn't be asking."

The silence was longer this time. The microphone on the other side was muted, depriving Marco of any hints or clues to how Neer was taking his outburst. Was he shaking with rage? Was he frozen with doubt? Was he quaking with indecision? Marco longed to know the answer and it felt like an eternity until, finally, he heard the microphone come back on.

"Then help me find the right questions..." Neer said softly, "This is a new age, an age of discovery... Help me to-"

"Find answers." Marco said, shaking his head, "That takes us back to the beginning, doesn't it? You are Sigma, but I am the Alpha. You tried to take away everything that makes me me, and if it weren't for something way outside of your comprehension, you would have destroyed me. More than that, you have hurt the ones I love, my pack, and countless wolves from other places. If you want anything other than a painful death, you will release the wolves. If we are on an equal footing, I will give you one answer... One answer to any question you want, and that's it." Marco replied.

There was a moment's pause, pure silence. Marco hated that silence, but he loved how long it lasted. It was a sign as to how deeply he had gotten under Neer's skin. Marco tried to imagine how he'd counter, how he'd try to refute or reframe or recontextualize. To Marco's surprise, the answer came as he felt the unrelenting pull of the magnets in his handcuffs, pulling his wrists back together, the mechanical locking mechanism slipping back into place. Marco grinned, betraying his sharpened canine teeth. He had won his first victory.

The door to the interrogation room opened, the guards standing outside, a bit surprised by how short the session had been. Marco stepped out between them, the smile still spread across his lips. He started the long walk back towards his cage, but every step he took, he owned. He wasn't a victim any more, shackled by his surprise capture at the box canyon. He was the agent of his own destiny, and he was going to do everything he could to save the werewolves around him.

**** Long beams of afternoon light spilled in through the large window at the end of the conference room, catching in the milky frosted glass walls on either side. The faint orange tint to the light brought out the red in the wood of the conference table and it sparkled in the crystal of the water carafes that were spaced between clusters of scientists. Naomi had been in the room for almost two hours, listening to the updates on the projects being conducted, but each presentation seemed to wear on her a little more.

"...which led us to believe that if we shifted our focus to an approach looking into the macromolecules in the extracellular fluids that we might discover something about the healing factor that could help us advance our understanding." The scientist said, opening his mouth to continue when Naomi held up a hand without looking up from her tablet.

"Doctor Kensey, this is the... fifth shift of focus in your project, is it not?" Naomi asked before finally looking up. The doctor swallowed a bit before nodding.

"Y-Yes... Our earlier efforts to investigate the innate immunity and the adaptive immunities yielded no results beyond baseline in the experiments we were able to complete." Doctor Kensey replied. Naomi nodded at that.

"And the experiments you were unable to complete... That was the incident with the frozen agar?" She asked. The doctor blushed a bit and nodded.

"Yes, we had a coolant leak in the laboratory specimen holder and the samples were destroyed when they dropped to sub-freezing temperatures." Doctor Kensey replied. Naomi sat up, her eyes scanning the table of men and women that had been working so hard to achieve next to nothing. She set her stylus down, rested her hands on the table and shook her head.

"Let me save us all some time. Are any of you beyond the exploration phase?" She asked, waiting for a response. When none came, she continued, "Are any of you satisfied that you have identified any results of any kind that are outside the results you would get from an ordinary human?" Naomi asked. It was Haku Iona that raised his hand. Naomi turned to look at him. Haku took a breath to steady himself.

"While we have been unable to discover what causes the differentiated levels, the werewolves DO show heightened hormones and pheromone levels. They also have a mild increase in their white cell count that would not appear abnormal in a single individual, but as a population group is out of the ordinary." He replied. Naomi nodded slowly at that.

"Do any of the rest of you have at least that much? You don't have to know the cause, you just have to know what you're looking at." Naomi said. Once more there was silence in the room. Chad watched Naomi, unused to her line of questioning. Naomi shook her head slowly before she exhaled, "We have spent over a year preparing for this, over two months with access to the werewolves, and we still don't know what we don't know." Naomi said, holding for just a moment, "All projects except Project Luna and Doctor Iona's project are suspended." She said finally.

"But we are in the middle of our lab-work!" One doctor declared.

"There's so much more to find out!" another protested. Naomi looked up with a hint of danger in her eyes.

"There is so much more to find out, but this isn't an issue we can spend a lifetime researching. The world needs answers and you have failed to deliver them. Those of you that relocated for this assignment will return to your original positions. Those of you from this facility will resume your previous assignments and workloads." Naomi said. Chad cleared his throat a bit from where he was standing in the corner. Naomi hesitated before forcing herself a small smile, "I do know that this time has been difficult for all of us. We shifted gears, we changed our focus, we committed ourselves... Your work has not gone unappreciated. At the very least... we know now what not to do." She said, though she caught Chad wincing a bit. She licked her bottom lip, "Thank you all for your time, and travel safe." She said, standing up.

With seamless proficiency, Naomi tucked her tablet under her arm along with what paperwork she deemed useful. She turned and moved for the door with Chad falling in step behind her, though Haku stumbled to his feet and followed after.

"Director Bennet, if I may have a moment?" Haku asked. His heart was beating in his chest, racing a mile a minute. He knew there was more on the line than just his job. He had specifically chosen this meeting to give Fletcher time to use the stolen credentials to get into the Futurza database. The early conclusion shrank the window and he had to buy them as much time as he could - not to mention that the more time they spent together, the more of an alibi he had in case anyone was able to trace back the theft of credentials to his work station.

"You may have two moments; I believe you've earned that much." She replied, though Chad still opened the door to leave the conference room. Haku hesitated before following her, moving out into the hallway with Naomi and her bodyguard.

"I am still concerned about the scalability of my research. I'm not sure how much help it would be in developing a cure. If they already know they are werewolves, knowing that they have heightened levels isn't going to help them." Haku commented as they walked. Naomi slowed a bit, nodding.

"Perhaps not... but think how cancer is detected in health screenings. Usually the first indicator is abnormal hormones. Once identified, a number of procedures become available. Chemicals are used to slow the spread, the abnormal cells are targeted and eliminated, with effort and care the patient is cured of their disease." Naomi said, pressing her finger to the scanner on the elevator.

"But we're not looking at a disease, exactly. This is something... more. Something supernatural. It doesn't behave by the laws of science." Haku replied. Naomi nodded.

"Perhaps you are right... Perhaps there is no way to cure the werewolves by targeting specific cells. That does not mean that we should give up. Even if it does not follow the laws of science, it must follow laws of its own. We have to learn what those are, so we can prevent the spread of this disease, so it no longer harms the lives of anyone that did not ask for this." Naomi replied. The elevator doors finally slid open and Naomi stepped in, followed by Chad. Naomi turned to face Haku, "I trust that you will use what you have learned to find ways we can at least screen for those afflicted by this disease."

Haku stood there and nodded numbly, watching the doors to the elevator shut, knowing that his two moments had come to an end. With the elevator shut, Haku pulled out his phone and speed dialed his wife. The other end of the line clicked after a moment.

"Cira, my love?" Haku asked, walking back toward the conference room.

"Yes my dearest, it is so nice to hear from you." She replied.

"My meeting ran shorter than I was expecting. I don't think I'll be late after all." Haku explained, knowing that she would get the implied meaning.

"That's wonderful news. I'll make sure dinner is ready by the time you get back." She replied. Haku gave a tired smile.

"I love you Cira." He said softly.

"I love you too, my dearest Haku." Cira answered. Haku held onto her voice for a moment before he hung up the phone. He would gather his papers, return to his office, tidy things up and head home. It would stretch out his own alibi a little, but he hoped that whatever information that Fletcher was going to find that he had already done so.

**** Cira stood in the far corner of the coffee shop, holding her cell phone to her ear, talking gently into it before she lowered it again and slipped it into her pocket. She crossed the shop and rested her hand on Fletcher's shoulder. Fletcher had blended in with the local clientele, wearing his beanie and his black frame glasses. Yom, meanwhile, had matched the aesthetic of some of the more reluctant customers that had gone a more cowboy approach, even getting a few compliments on his beard.

"It's time to go, my dear." Cira said to Fletcher. Fletcher's fingers were moving swiftly.

"There's so much here, I don't want to miss anything." He said softly. Yom slipped off of the stool he'd been taking up and moved over to join them, keeping track of it all easily with his keen hearing.

"You know the arrangement Rayne, we gotta go." Artyom said. Fletcher looked up at them both and grimaced slightly before he nodded, locking the tablet with his pass code before tucking it into his bag. Cira returned to the counter and put on her best smile, buying a bag of a half-dozen donuts to go and leaving a tip, asking for a quick coffee to go while the boys headed out of the shop.

Every part of their plan had been deliberate, balancing their limited window of opportunity versus acceptable risks. They'd taken Marco's car, they'd parked around the corner of the coffee shop. They'd picked an out of the way one with no discernable camera and they had made sure that the attention was on Cira while they were there. No one was going to pay any attention to two college aged kids using a computer in a coffee shop.

Fletcher made it to the car first and got into the back, sinking down low on the seat while Yom got into the driver's side. It only took a few more moments for Cira to come out and get in, sinking the coffee down into the cup holder and buckling herself in. Yom looked around, checking the side streets and behind the car before he backed up, curving into a driveway before heading back the way they had come. No one in the shop had any opportunity to see what vehicle they had used.

"I think that went pretty well." Yom said, although he winced with one eye as Cira hit his shoulder with her hand.

"You're never supposed to say things like that." Cira chastised. Fletcher smirked, opening the tablet back up, entering his password before he started digging through the data again. He made sure that the wireless was off, trying to stay off the grid as much as possible.

"I still wish we'd been able to get a disposable phone." Fletcher muttered.

"We didn't have the time, and they'd be suspicious of any outside numbers if they looked at Haku's phone anyway... We just have to use the information you got to find Marco before they can do anything." Yom said. Cira's eyes lowered from the road ahead to the dashboard for a moment before she looked back up at them.

"This world that you children have inherited, it is nothing like the one I knew growing up. You have to know so much, to be so careful." Cira said. Yom gave a soft, almost vulnerable smile.

"It's different than how I grew up too. I was born a werewolf, actually." Yom admitted. Cira looked intrigued at that, smiling a bit despite herself.

"All this time?" She asked. Yom nodded, bringing the car to a rest at a stop sign, taking a moment to compose his thoughts.

"My father was a werewolf, my mother, their parents, and theirs back in the Sverdlovsk Oblast." Yom hesitated, "Russia."

"She knows its Russia." Fletcher rolled his eyes. Cira, however, was hanging on Yom's every word. Yom resumed their journey, turning onto a side street.

"We were raised in isolation, only allowed to play with other werewolf children. We were warned that the world was not ready for us, that if we slipped up that the hunters would come and skin us. We thought it was just a fairy tale, but... we didn't dare disrespect our parents. I learned too late that they were right, that this world has always been a threat to us." Yom said.

"A threat, perhaps, but also salvation?" Cira asked. Yom blushed a little.

"Marco." Yom said. Cira nodded.

"Marco, yes. He surprised me when he said he was going to take CPR classes in high school, I thought to myself what boy thinks ahead like that?" Cira asked.

"I... I'm sorry that I put his life in danger." Yom said. Cira shook her head.

"Marco put his life in danger trying to do the right thing. When he volunteered for campus safety, his father was so proud... But me? I'm a mother, I worry." Cira admitted.

"I want you to know that your son has always acted in the best interest of the people he cared about, the innocents, and those that needed help." Yom said. Cira nodded again.

"I know, and now it's time for the rest of us to return the favor." She said seriously.

**** The hiss of air through the vents, the gurgle of water passing through the pipes, the heartbeat of those trapped nearby and the breath of the guards keeping everything in check - Udo couldn't help but focus on the senses around him as he tried to find any relief, however miniscule, to the discomfort and pain saturating his body.

It was hard to define pain, at least for Udo. He'd had so many different kinds in his life and it never ceased to surprise him. The pain he had felt from fighting the direwolf had faded quickly enough - his body had healed, but what about his heart? His soul? His mind? That was a pain that lingered and festered. Udo could feel the tension around his eyes as he clenched, protecting himself from some psychological threat. His brain felt foggy, sluggish, clouded - and yet in the middle of that fog it felt like he had sharp gravel pressing in on his brain - a stress headache that permeated every thought, the worst of both worlds.

Udo tried to chase it away, focusing on what he could to distract himself. He brought his focus back to what his senses were telling him, focusing in as if they were touchstones: the subtle hiss of air passing through the pipes snaking across the ceiling of the facility, a gurgle of liquids flowing right alongside them. They weren't a particularly pleasing sound, but it was something to hold onto. If he lost focus on the sound of the pipes, he would start paying attention to the heartbeat of the werewolves around him or the nerves of the hunters patrolling the halls. Every thought about his surroundings made his anxiety bloom all over again, blossoming as freshly as if it was new... but somewhere in that maelstrom, somewhere in that chaos, something was different, something was... better?

There was a fear in turning toward the chaos. Udo had been trying so hard to focus on nothing that the idea of letting everything back in was terrifying, but somewhere out there he felt something he hadn't. He closed his eyes and listened, trying to filter through the other wolves - and it was only then that the idea struck him. He was listening for a specific wolf, his wolf, his alpha. He was listening to Marco.

Steady, focused, even and strong. It was Marco's heartbeat. Udo hadn't been able to pick it out before because it was lost and uncertain, full of fear and doubt, but there was no questioning it now. Udo could hear Marco. He could hear his alpha and he could hear his alpha's focus. Marco wasn't in doubt anymore. Udo's tired, weary face flashed a smile. It was almost toxic in its potency, but after being hopeless for so long, Udo felt the flash in his heart.

Ever so carefully, Udo shifted his position, getting onto his knees, bracing his back. He started to concentrate on his breathing. In and out, in and out. He had to expel the carbon dioxide, bring in the oxygen, nourish the muscles and prepare the flesh. He felt his own heart falling into line with Marco's, he felt his body waking up. The fog in his mind started to clear and the stinging pain in the center of his brain ebbed and weakened. Udo looked up as his eyes shifted to a bright amber, his teeth sharpening and his ears pushing out into points.

A hand slipped out, grabbing onto the bars of his cage, his fingernails darkening and thickening as they pushed out, curving into claws. He felt the pathetic shorts the prisoners wore ruffle and crinkle as his blond tail began to push out from above his pert, muscled ass. Udo inhaled deeper, catching Marco's scent. His hybrid ears heard Marco's heartbeat growing stronger. It had taken some convincing for Udo to believe in the push and pull that betas had in their alpha, but the longer he knew Marco, the more he believed it.

Udo gripped onto the cage with both clawed paws, holding on. His back rose and fell with his breath, his fangs glistening in the artificial light. Udo had no way of knowing if he could influence Marco from a distance, but if there was even the tiniest shred of truth in the legend, he was going to give his Alpha everything he had; his love, his strength, his healing, his tenacity, all of it. Udo would give anything to help Marco and he knew Marco would do anything for his pack.

**** One foot in front of the other, Marco walked down the winding hallway escorted by three guards. It felt as if each step pushed farther than the one before, propelling him towards his destiny. It was true that he had almost lost himself in Doctor Neer's experiment but coming face to face with his own humanity had given Marco a clarity of purpose. He had released his guilt, his hesitation and his pain. The werewolf within him was healing.

The guards did their duty, escorting the prisoner back to his confinement. They had not been trained as a unified group for this purpose. They had been hunters from disparate cells, brought together under one banner to capture werewolves and remove them from the general population. It had been a struggle to restrain themselves from ending the wolves and even harder to keep them alive here, but the paycheck and the resources had been too good to ignore. Some were rougher than others, but all of them had felt the same confidence that the werewolves had been put in their rightful place.

Werewolves filled cages lining the facility, stored like excess cargo, stretching out all around. Marco looked out to the werewolves as he passed, meeting eyes with each and every one. Some he knew, some he didn't, but his body language was clear. He felt their pain but he was turning it into resolution. Everything was going to change. This was the battle cry. This was the flashpoint.

Each step brought more strength to Marco. The confidence fed his healing. His fingers stretched out and flexed, his wrists feeling the chill of the cuffs against his skin. His teeth sharpened in his mouth as his smile widened, his hazel eyes bordering on a golden hue. The guards had been so blind to the changes, but the werewolves knew. They could feel the power exuding off of the Alpha and they could feel the change in the air.

Marco saw his kennel up ahead, the pitiful cage that he had allowed to trap him. It seemed so simple, so insignificant compared to everything he had been through before, everything he had faced. It wouldn't hold him again. He was on his feet and the battle couldn't be ignored. He had to do it for Udo, for Fletcher, for Yom and for all of the werewolves that had been imprisoned... and for Duncan who had nearly lost his humanity.

The understanding between potential energy and kinetic energy was vital to the accuracy of any hunter, but the speed at which Marco switched from one to the other was faster than any of them could observe. Marco brought his cuffed hands around, slamming them into the guard with the weapon first. Using the rebound momentum off of that guard, he changed direction and brought his leg up, kicking another. Two of the three had been knocked off center. The third pulled up his weapon but he yelped as he felt claws sink into his leg from behind.

The werewolf in the cage sunk his claws as deep as he could into the guard's ankle, finding one of the few parts not covered with the body mesh. The guard pulled out a knife and slashed at the cage, but the blade glanced off of the metal frame, allowing the werewolf to shrink back a little.

The first guard scrambled for his weapon, but Marco brought his cuffed hands over the guard's head, pulling back to deprive him of the oxygen his muscles so desperately needed. The second guard lunged for the weapon in turn, but Marco used his whole body weight to position his captive between the two, slamming them into one another.

"We've got an escape!" One of them shouted. Marco gritted his fangs, his eyes gleaming gold as his ears pushed into points and his eyebrow ridge pushed out forward. His face contorted, taking on lycan features as his claws stretched. Marco took in a breath, then another, summoning every bit of strength he had before he let out a roar and pulled his wrists apart.

Marco could feel the edge of the metal cuffs digging into his skin, testing both his strength and his resolve. The magnetic pull was intense, but Marco was determined. As he grit his teeth, he managed to get the cuffs a few centimeters apart, fighting the constant pull. With the magnets a little apart, he put one arm forward and pulled the other back, his arms swinging free. Marco swung at the first guard that had got upright, clocking him on the side of the head as he charged. He spun like a top before toppling to the ground, but Marco had been too over confident, allowing his wrists to get close enough that the cuffs snapped back into place, the magnets clasping once more.

One of the remaining guards let out a nervous laugh as he brought up his weapon, trained it at Marco and pulled the trigger. The industrially crafted weapon shuddered as a strange, sickly click sounded inside the casing and a small fracture formed along the ceramic shell. It had been the same type of weapon used to capture the werewolves in the canyon, the same type that had jammed and broken.

Marco pulled his restraints apart once more, his wrists red and bruised from the effort, but it was all Marco needed to grab the guard and pick him up, throwing him through the air. He hit the third guard that had crawled away from the caged werewolf, the two landing in an unceremonious heap. The captured werewolf snarled and growled, slashing out of the slats in the cage, trying to exact his own revenge before he turned, looking up at Marco, growing still.

Marco stood there, shoulders broadening, face contorting. The prisoner shorts had ridden a bit lower, releasing the wriggling nub of Marco's tail as it pushed out longer and longer, descending behind him. Marco's beard and chest hair were softening as the black fur began to grow outward, crossing his face, his cheeks, his shoulders and back. Marco felt the heat boiling in his blood, his skin tingling, his muscles growing as his ribs ached and pushed apart from one another.

With every passing second, Marco's beast emerged. The cuffs grew tighter and tighter, cutting into his flesh. He winced and growled before he slammed one against the cement wall. With one great thud, he felt a little give, but it was far from enough. As Marco's spine elongated and he grew taller, as his feet stretched out wider and broader, he started to slam the cuff into the cement wall repeatedly until the metal began to weaken, loosen, and ultimately fracture.

As one cuff broke from around his wrist, Marco returned the favor to the other, smashing the mechanism until the entire cuff crumbled from around his wrist into pieces. Marco turned, looking at the prisoner that had assisted him. He approached the cage, reaching down to grip the metal slats with his clawed, fur covered paws. He grabbed onto the metal before he bore his fangs and pulled, prying the metal apart. The door popped off its hinges and fell to the floor.

A twenty something year old werewolf scrambled out of the cage, his sandy brown hair dyed green on the fringes. He panted hard, breathing through teeth sharpening into fangs. He threw his hands to the side, his claws erupting from his fingertips like stilettos as blood and vitality circulated back into his body. Sandy hair pushed out from his cheeks as his ears pointed and his nose contorted, taking on a more animalistic shape.

"How do I help?" he asked. Marco looked around.

"There will be more guards any moment... Priority one, don't get recaptured. Priority two, get as many wolves as you can out. The way we came from doesn't have many humans, we need to secure it and then work our way to the loading docks. Just don't let them corner you."

"I don't know my way around this place..." The werewolf admitted. Marco nodded, resting a hand on the beta's shoulder before pointing.

"The docks are that way. The hallways weave back and forth, serpentine, but then they loop back together. Just build your numbers and work towards the docks." Marco said. The werewolf nodded before he looked around, taking a breath before he pushed off to go start releasing more wolves. Marco moved to take a step but paused, looking back at the guards he had incapacitated. It only took a moment to spot another set of the magnetic cuffs. Marco grinned, finding that turnabout would be more than fair play.

**** Time was running out... It was the one inescapable fact that kept echoing through Fletcher's mind. They had used their window of opportunity with Haku, they had used up their stay at the coffee shop. They were driving through Houston, trying to stay off the beaten path, trying to buy him time to find the answer... and answer to saving the lives of countless werewolves. Fletcher's teeth gritted, his eyes tensed, his fingers dug into his palm until he smelled a acrid copper like tang. Fletcher looked down, realizing his fingernails had darkened and thickened, forming claws. He froze, looking at himself in shock.

"Any luck?" Cira asked from where she was driving. Yom, however, had tensed when he smelled the blood. He looked back over the seat at Fletcher, realizing that his ears had pushed into points and soft patches of fuzzy brown hair were pushing out of his cheeks and chin. Yom tried to give Fletcher a reassuring smile.

"It'll be okay." He said softly. Fletcher said nothing, shaking his head.

"There's so much data here. Futurza has its hands in everything. They're in ten states, they've got facilities all over the place. I'm looking for a needle in a haystack." Fletcher murmured, leaning back against the seat, looking at the reflections of the houses on the windows of the car as they drove along, the sun setting slowly toward the horizon. As he looked out of the window, he saw a fluttering of movement, a flock of birds climbing higher into the sky.

"Maybe we need to look for something that isn't a haystack." Cira said, "You're looking at their investments, right? What doesn't belong with pharmaceuticals and science research?" Cira asked. Fletcher hesitated, still looking out of the window at the birds, then the reflection of trees, then back at his laptop screen. He scrolled back a few pages, skimming through the lines.

"They have a few standout projects... A planetarium, some public works stuff with pools..." Fletcher kept reading, feeling something tug at the back of his mind before he grinned, "And they're an active partner in the Armand Bayou nature reserve!" Fletcher grinned.

"I know that reserve! It's huge." Cira said, checking traffic before she changed lanes. Yom looked at both of them in confusion.

"How does that help us? They aren't going to keep our pack out in the open." Yom said. Fletcher shook his head, pulling up all the information they had grabbed on the bayou.

"No company actively invests in something like this. They donate enough money that they can get their name on a sign, or if a company really wants some good press they'll make their employees volunteer for cleaning the place up. That's not what they're doing." Fletcher said, pulling up more contracts, "They licensed contractors, foundation specialists, three different cement companies and HVAC specialists. They built something out there, something big."

"A werewolf prison?" Yom asked, still uncertain but caught up in the energy.

"Like the kid said, if you were a big company and you spent that much money on a nature preserve, why wouldn't you brag about it and put it in all those commercials they have on TV?" Cira asked. Yom grinned a bit wider.

"Because you wanted to keep it a secret." Yom replied. Cira nodded.

"We have to get word to Haku and let him know we're going to the preserve." Cira said.

"About that, we-" Fletcher hesitated, seeing Yom shake his head.

"She's a momma, we can't stop her." Yom stated coolly. Fletcher looked back at Cira, or at least her reflection in the rear-view mirror. There was nothing he could do to talk her out of it. She was dedicated to saving her son, just like they were. He felt a growing kinship with the mother of the man he loved.

**** It had been one year... one year since Marco had become a werewolf. That was not a fact that was new to Marco, he'd been thinking about it a lot, but as he moved down the hallways of the facility, joined by a growing number of werewolves, it became clear that he had not trained as much as he could have, nor explored what it meant to be a werewolf as much as he should have.

He could feel his wolf just beneath the surface, riled up and raring to go. He'd woken the beast as his defiance had broken through the psychological and literal shackles that had held him back, but it was still a bit unfamiliar. He'd given in to the curse in the box canyon, become a feral beast... but even that wasn't quite the full truth. He knew that the claw clan were capable of more, of standing upright, of bringing their two sides together in harmony. He just hadn't tried... he hadn't tried any of it - until now.

It was strange walking with claws on his feet, but with the right focus on his balance, a careful pace, they didn't tap or click against the cement floors. His shoulders had broadened, his spine had lengthened, his tail had filled out and his ears were pointed and furry. He heard so much, smelled so much, but it was all about focusing that instinct - the predator's instinct - into tangible action. Still, it was different than before. This was no longer doubt or uncertainty. It was a drive to turn the unknown into a power under his command.

The werewolves following Marco moved with growing skill as well, rounding corners carefully, pausing and freezing at the right times. Marco had six following him, as well as groups waiting at strategic points along the way until the path was clear. There were cameras and taking them out would arouse too much suspicion. They had to hold on to their element of surprise as long as possible, to get as far as possible, they had to-

"Udo..." Marco whispered, his amber eyes brightening a bit. The smell was tangible, strong, direct. Marco inched up to the curve in the wall and peered around the corner. Sitting there, claws working on the bars of his kennel was Udo. Marco's heart fluttered a bit. Udo was wolfing out, showing off his claws, his fangs, his animal ears and his muscles. His skin glistened with sweat and the kennel was looking as though it had seen better days.

Marco turned his attention from Udo to the camera on the wall. Some of them had been positioned better than others. This one was looking across the entire intersection and all the cages therein. Marco took a soft breath and turned, looking back at the werewolves behind him. He pointed to two of them, then signaled for them to go back the way they had come and to start bringing the groups forward. They weren't going to be able to clear all the way to the dock without getting caught, it was time to speed things up.

The wolves moved off, heading back the way they came. Marco fell back against the far wall and inched over, reaching up with a claw to tug on the data line, angling the camera over, over more, over as far as he could get where he hoped it still looked like 'hallway' without showing the kennels. There was no way of knowing, but it was going to have to be good enough. Marco moved forward, meeting Udo's gaze as he looked up.

"Marco!" Udo exclaimed.

"I'm sorry it took me so long." Marco smiled, crouching down so that his tail brushed the floor. He grabbed onto the cage and pulled, groaning and growling as the metal started to stretch and flex. Udo grabbed on as well, helping.

The kennel warped until the hinges could take no more, snapping off. The metal remained attached on the lock side, but with the rest broken, Udo was able to push through and skid onto the cement, wincing a bit before he sprung up to his feet... and a few extra inches of height. Marco's eyebrows rose in surprise. He grinned a bit, reaching out to give one of Udo's extra thick, extra fluffy sideburns a scratch before he leaned in for a kiss. Their lips worked against one another for a heated moment before Udo reluctantly pulled back, panting for breath, looking around.

"So, what's the game plan?" Udo asked.

"We have to get to the dock, to get out of here. The wolves that have been released already are making their way forward. We've taken out a few teams, but it's just a matter of time until someone notices." Marco said.

"Alright, I'll help clear this block... But we're going to have to get into the isolation cell too." Udo said. One of the other wolves shook her head, reaching out, her clawed hand resting on Marco's shoulder.

"No, it's too dangerous, he's one of them..." The brunette wolf warned. Marco looked back at Udo in uncertainty before he froze.

"What they said, about the direwolf... that was real, wasn't it?" Marco asked in horror. Udo flinched a bit before nodding.

"It's not his fault; he's got a dissociative condition... but it isn't right to leave him, not with them. Besides, we may need his help to get out." Udo said. The other wolves shrank back a bit at the idea, but Marco nodded.

"This isn't a time to argue over tribes. We're getting out of here, ALL of us." Marco said. Despite their hesitation, an Alpha had spoken. Several wolves looked both ways before advancing over toward the isolation cell. Marco looked back to the path ahead, sensing movement. The guards would be making their rounds sooner or later.

**** Broken stones, tattered scraps of paper, crushed herbs and battered pieces of metal. Doctor Neer stood in his office, examining his collection of the supernatural. He had been pacing for some time after his session with Marco, but he had come to a stop in front of the shelving. He stood a tall and towering figure; the epitome of order with his neatly groomed hair, his perfectly round glasses, his form fitting clothing... but it was a thin veneer over the growing maelstrom inside. His anger was building, the embers roaring hotter and wilder as it became a burning rage.

He had been hired to conduct the tests that were too garish for Futurza. He was supposed to get the answers to the hard questions. What had he gotten? He'd lost prisoners, guards, and precious time. Most of all, his most daring experiment had lasted less than a day before it simply evaporated with no rhyme or reason. Neer sneered as he looked at his display. They no longer represented an archaeological glimpse into a hidden culture. They were the pocket scraps of a degenerate sub-species that was threatening everyone.

"No more mister nice guy..." Neer muttered, moving back over to his desk. He reached out and hit the intercom, "Unit two, I want that alpha brought back to the exam room. It's time to see what makes him tick." Doctor Neer said with a merciless, wild gleam in his eyes. He waited for confirmation for a moment before pausing, "Unit two, did you hear me?" Neer asked. Still there was no response.

"Unit two, respond immediately." Wes's voice came onto the radio, pausing for only a moment, "Unit four and five, head to the east block. Find out what's going on. All other units, heightened alert." Wes ordered. Doctor Neer's fingers started to drum on the table. He hadn't been the most enthusiastic at Naomi insisting that he use the hunters for their security. At best they had hunters slacking off, and at worst there was something far more dangerous going on. Neer left his desk behind, finding no use in chastising Wes while they tried to find the truth. No, there were better things he could do with his time.

Neer's eyes scanned the shelves, skimming over all of the relics that had been recovered from the clothing of the werewolves that had been taken. The scientist clicked his tongue against his teeth, dismissing them one by one until they stopped on a particularly robust looking purple flower in a glass jar. It was one of the things that Neer had found most ironic. Why would any self-respecting werewolf carry around wolfsbane? But their mistake was his fortune. He grabbed the vial from the shelf and turned, striding across his office and down the stairs.

He admitted to himself that he had gone a bit off course with the werewolves. Creating stronger wolves would have been fascinating, but that wasn't the point. He was supposed to be dissecting them, learning what made them tick. Still, the mistakes of the past were rectified by the choices of the future. Neer's hand tightened on the vial of wolfsbane. As far as science was concerned, it was never too late to turn back to the basics.

**** The security office had been a place of comfort and control for Wes. After years of putting himself out there, of being on the line, he'd taken charge of the situation. He had a team, he had a facility. The others had complained about not being able to take out the wolves... and for the first time since taking the contract, Wes was starting to wonder if they were right. He looked up at the big blue wall, the screen showing the security cameras and the movements of the units. Unit two showed that they were in position, or at least close to it... But they weren't moving, and they weren't responding. Something didn't smell right.

Against his better judgment, Wes entered the commands to establish a connection that he wished he didn't have to make. The screen flickered as white icons showed the encryption process, the proxy network and the security credentials working together to form the connection. Despite the glare and the bright light, Wes could see a bit of his reflection in the glossy screen until the icons were replaced by Naomi's perturbed face. Wes took the initiative, speaking before she had a chance to attempt pleasantries.

"The Beta site is at heightened alert. We have units that are not responding to coms. We're investigating now." Wes said. Naomi's face tightened a bit. No doubt a flurry of scathing observations ripped through her mind, but she was a pragmatist and had to focus on the issue at hand.

"Do what you must to contain the situation." Naomi said before pausing, shaking her head, "No, do what you need in order to end this situation. We cannot afford a breach at this time, not when we're this close. Take your hunters off their leash; let them do what they were born to do. I don't want a single animal making it out of that facility." Naomi said. Wes grinned at that and nodded.

"Of course." Wes replied, "I'll take care of it at once." He said before he reached out, closing the com line. The security footage returned to the default screen, but something was off. Wes was already grabbing his gear, but he could tell that several of the feeds were in sub-optimal positions. They were askew, they were poor vantage points. One of them was looking at a wall point blank. Wes grabbed his radio, opening it up.

"The sun is rising. It's time to go hunting. Safeties off, put down any stray you see." Wes replied. He almost wished he had been out there to hear his men when they got the news. It was the moment they had been waiting for, the purpose that had brought them all together in the first place. Maybe this was the right way to go about it - no fighting the laws of nature. They were hunters, the werewolves were their prey. It was time they acted like it.

Wes moved over to his locker and started pulling on his hunting gear; a reinforced vest to carry his ammo and his supplies, a knife strapped to his hip, shin guards and a bracer for his forearm before the most important part - his rifle. It only took a few moments to get on before he moved to the door, swung it open and stepped out. Wes wasn't sure what tipped him off, if it was a sound or a change in the air... but it was just enough of a warning for him to duck.

Claws hit the door frame, cutting into the material. The werewolf grunted, having over-compensated before bringing his left arm over toward Wes's midsection. Wes caught the hand in his gut, but the claws couldn't make it through the plating in the vest. Wes sailed backwards, skidding along the wall before rolling to the ground. He pulled his weapon up from his side and fired. The shots rang out through the facility. The werewolf reared back, showing off his huge fangs.

Wes wasn't sure where that one had come from. He looked to be Native American, maybe Hispanic. It was harder to tell with the werewolf brow, the ears and the eyes... but the amber glow in his expression started to fade as the damage was registered. Blood was blossoming from his shirt, but he wasn't down for the count yet. He charged, but lunged just as Wes fired again, dodging the second blast.

The hunter growled and rolled, barely making it out of the way as the wicked, clawed hand came down where his leg had been with enough force to break bone. Wes grabbed onto a kennel to hoist himself up, but he felt his momentum jerked backwards suddenly. The wounded werewolf had grabbed his rifle. Wes shrugged out of the strap and let it go, though he kicked it for good measure, knocking it out of the werewolf's hand.

The glint of his knife shone as he pulled it from his holster, giving the werewolf a stare. The animal snarled before charging. Wes didn't bother trying to stab the beast. He hurtled his knife forward, sending it sailing out. The werewolf grunted, the wind knocked out of his lungs as he toppled and fell to the ground. Wes looked down at the animal, making sure he wasn't moving before he reclaimed his rifle.

With a brush of his elbow to wipe away the blood from the corner of his mouth, Wes leaned down and reclaimed his knife. He felt the heat of battle in his blood, the fury and fire filling his lungs. This wasn't a game. This wasn't an experiment. This was life and death. He started walking down the hallway, heading toward the next intersection. He looked at cage after cage, torn apart, destroyed. He looked at the cameras in their ineffectual angles, looking at nothing and everything at the same time.

Wes shook his head, not so much at the situation as at himself. He had broken all of his father's rules by bringing that many werewolves together in one place, and it had been sheer arrogance to believe it wouldn't come back to bite them. Still, there was time to salvage the situation. Wes brought his weapon up, readied it and came around the corner. Two of his guards raised their weapons as well at seeing movement, but they were perceptive enough not to fire. Wes, however, opened up and shot past his men, hitting the werewolf that had been trying to take advantage of his distraction. The youth went skidding back across the floor, slumping. The guards spun around.

"Don't get rusty, boys. We've got a lot of cleaning to do." Wes said, feeling his senses really coming to life.

**** The shots had rung out; a few at first, then more. Screams had followed. A slight, strained smile crossed Doctor Neer's lips as he worked. It had all been a miscalculation... a slight mistake, a few overlooked details. It was an error, and errors could be rectified. He had plenty of subjects, he had plenty of help. Naomi had complete faith in him! He was the best scientist for the job. He just had to erase the mistake... he had to erase the one that had threatened the entire experiment.

Neer watched as the wolfsbane distilled, its essence replicated and supplemented, the system adding the chemicals he had instructed it to. There were catalysts, of course, enough to vaporize the contents as soon as it came into contact with oxygen. The liquid was pumped into vacuum sealed vials, punctured through the rubber stopper at the top, filled to the brim. It was automatic, mechanized, predictable. It would be more than enough.

The doctor grabbed several vials, tucking them into pockets in his jacket and pants before he clutched the last one in his hand. He moved to the doorway and paused. A hunter was backing up, firing his Futurza weapon. Darts sailed out until the weapon suddenly jammed, clicking helplessly. The hunter turned and broke into a sprint, throwing his weapon down. Three werewolves charged after him, racing down the hallway.

With the obstacles passed, Neer stepped out, looking down the hallway in one direction, then the other. He knew the Alpha. He knew the way he thought. He'd be trying to escape, taking not the most direct course, but the safest course. There was no variable that he couldn't account for given enough data. Neer walked past the fallen guard, then two more. He stepped over a werewolf that had been left where he had fallen, motionless. More shots echoed in the distance, more screams, more howls.

It reminded Neer of a play he had seen as a child... Everyone had their part, everyone had their place, everyone was a moving piece of the same mechanism. Even the most organic of movements had a specific purpose. There was no chaos, no disharmony. Naomi would be so pleased when he got the experiments back on track, when he showed her the inner nature of his enemies.

"Doctor, get back, it isn't safe!" One of the guards shouted. Neer continued to smile. The hunters meant well, but they didn't see the bigger picture. They didn't understand what was going on. Neer continued on, stepping around them. He heard the grunts and growls as they were tackled by werewolves and dragged down to the ground. The werewolves were healthy, good specimens, but they were only betas. No, he had to start at the root of the problem. He had to find the Alpha.

**** The tang of blood... It was a smell that Marco couldn't get out of his head. It was all around him. He could smell it. He could even taste it a little. He'd had his fair share of scrapes before, but this... this was open conflict. Marco held himself back for a moment before he spun around the corner and swung, slashing at a hunger's legs. The hunter flipped from the impact, knocked off his feet, landing on his chest. Marco grabbed onto the back of his collar and lifted him up before delivering a decisive punch, knocking the guard out cold before dropping him unceremoniously to the floor before advancing again.

"M... Marco, we can't just leave him here..." Tofino said, inching up from the back, looking horrified at the decision. Marco shook his head.

"We don't have time to lock him up." The alpha responded.

"No, that's- That's not what I meant. If he wakes up, he'll be a threat to the wolves behind us, the ones making up ground." Tofino said.

"If we kill indiscriminately, we become like them... or worse, we lose ourselves." Marco said, reaching out to rest his clawed hand on Tofino's shoulder.

"And we wouldn't want that, would we, Alpha?" Neer's voice questioned. Marco turned, his lips curling into rage, amber eyes gleaming. Neer took a few steps forward, the vial still clutched in his right hand, the strange smile plastered across his lips.

"You chose the wrong time for a house call." Marco growled.

"Oh no, I think not my dear Alpha. This is precisely the course of treatment that is prescribed. You disrupted my experiment. You are an errant variable, an outlier. I cannot resume my work until I've dealt with you." Neer said.

"This is exactly why we can't leave them alive." Tofino said sternly, moving to charge. Marco reached out, holding him back.

"Trust me. You don't want to go down this road, either of you." Marco said, looking at Neer, then at the vial he held. Neer's lips twitched.

"No, not this road... Back a step, repeat the experiment. Get different results. The world will be so surprised to learn what I can teach them, what only I can discover." Neer said, "We could have avoided all of this if you had just given in to the animal." Marco looked at Tofino, then Udo, then the doctor.

"We're going to pass, and you're going to let us." Marco said simply. Neer's misplaced smile finally faltered, turning into a look of scorn and rage.

"NO! You do not tell me what to do! You are Alpha... but I am Sigma!" Neer shouted, spittle erupting from his mouth. Marco turned slowly to move past, leading the werewolves down the hall. Neer's lips curled even more, the rage growing until he hurtled the vial he held at Marco. The vial tumbled through the air, heading on target for the wolf, but before it could get there, a huge, wet paw slapped at it.

The glass broke on impact, the liquid instantly aerosolizing into a cloud of purple that swirled up around the grizzled, bloody, furry arm of the beast that had stopped it. It clung to the fur, surrounding the huge head of the direwolf. The beast snorted out the captured air from its lungs, trying to keep it away, but Neer had designed it well enough that the monster took in a breath, then another.

Neer stood in shock, dumbfounded that the plan he had hatched so clearly in his mind had been interrupted yet again, that Marco had escaped his fate, that this... other beast had interceded. Neer looked up at the direwolf before realizing that it had not fallen, it had not crumpled. It held itself up with one huge paw braced against the wall.

"N... No..." Neer whispered softly. Marco took Udo's hand and led him down the hallway, resuming their path. More werewolves followed after, including Tofino. He looked back only once, seeing the strange pain on the doctor's face at his defeat. The uncertainty ripped through him, sinking into his veins like poison. Neer looked after them before he reached into his jacket, pulling out another vial.

The direwolf snapped his head back toward Neer, seeing that he hadn't given up. In one swift move he lunged, knocking Neer to the ground. A cloud of purple vapor exploded between the two, the direwolf going in for the kill. A short scream was punctuated by the sound of bone being crushed. Tofino paled, looking more ill as they continued, hearing the sounds of carnage behind them.

**** The engine of the mud flecked car rumbled as it lurched to a stop, barely thrown into park before Fletcher had flung his door open and lunged out. He made it several strides before realizing he had no idea where to start. They had gone as deep as they could into the Reserve, taking a remote access road to bypass the visitor center. There were hand crafted wooden fences and displays all around, guiding visitors along the hiking trails and onto the raised boardwalk like pathways. The water glistened with the dimming light of the setting sun and there were sounds of the wildlife all around.

Fletcher sniffed the air, he listened to the sounds. He tried to feel vibrations in the ground beneath him, but all he could feel was his heart racing with desperation, with panic, with dread, with fear. Fletcher closed his eyes, trying to shake it off, trying to be better. He jumped when he felt Artyom's hand on his back, nearly bolting, but he opened his eyes again, looking back.

"What good am I like this? I transformed one time. Marco needs me now!" Fletcher exclaimed. Yom nodded.

"He does need you, and you're here, and we're going to find him." Yom said. Fletcher was a little stunned. Yom was so certain, so cool, so collected.

"How do you know?" Fletcher asked softly. Yom smiled a little more and looked down at Fletcher.

"Because you led us here." Yom answered simply. Cira had gotten out of the car, but rather than following the boys, she had moved back to the road. They had followed the curving path for a few miles but the last had been the roughest. She stood at the edge, looking at the ruts in the road. Fletcher looked over at her curiously before he followed, jumping over the log that acted as a parking spot marker next to the car.

"What is it?" he asked. Cira pointed to the ruts.

"Something heavy came through here, and not just once. It eroded the path, dug in deep. They tried to fill it, I think, but the damage is deep... and it leads this way." Cira said, following the curve of the ruts as they migrated toward one edge of the road, over to the side. There were several large ferns lining the road beneath the weeping boughs of a willow tree, but as Cira reached out and pushed on one, an entire six-foot section swung loose.

Yom and Fletcher watched with wonder as a new road was revealed, heading deeper into the wilderness on a gradually sinking grade. Fletcher's eyes followed the road down toward a big industrial door sitting below ground level, then back up to the surface. Just a few yards past the end of the road, a large portion of the bayou sat, the water rippling gently in the evening breeze.

"Oh my god." Fletcher murmured, "They're underwater..."

**** Sparks erupted from the metal support as Marco slid back, wincing as one of the shots grazed his arm. The flesh stung, but he could feel the telltale tingle as his body already tried to start healing itself. Marco was trying not to lose his nerve. They were making progress, but it was coming at such a high price. Marco looked back at the way they had come, at the wounded werewolves that had been brought along the rear. Some of them were unlikely to make it, but the others were carrying them, making sure that they all got out.

Marco looked back at them, trying to think of the best way through the next obstacle. There had to be at least six hunters ahead of them, but it was getting harder to make out the heartbeats. There were so many people gathered in a tight and confined space. Marco considered his options on drawing fire when he hesitated, smelling something different. It wasn't like the fear. It was something else, something more dangerous.

"What's wrong, Alpha, afraid to face me like a man?" Wes called out from around the corner. Marco bristled a bit.

"It isn't manly when you're the one with a weapon." Marco called back. Wes smirked softly at that, running his hand along the barrel of his rifle.

"We all have our weapons. By my last count, yours are far more effective than mine." Wes commented, "How does it feel to have that much blood on your hands?"

"He doesn't have it on his hands, you do!" Tofino shouted out. Marco shot him a look but then looked back at the corner of the hall, sniffing the air.

"That's close enough. Tell your friends to back up." Marco said. It was Wes's turn to grimace before he signaled for the two hunters to pull back.

"I guess I can't get anything past you." Wes answered. Marco shook his head.

"But that's just it. You can. Let us pass and we won't harm anyone. We never wanted to harm anyone. We just want to live in peace." Marco said.

"That may be what you want. Hell, I really believe you believe that, but that's not how it goes... That's never how it goes. All it takes is one stray, one bad apple, and you've got lives on your hands. Hell, hunters disappear every year just investigating werewolves. Did you ever have any hunter show up in your hometown just to go missing?" Wes asked, smiling a bit more, "Echo Creek, right? That's where you're from?" he asked. Marco felt his blood run ice cold, the shock enough that his ears retracted a bit, the amber in his eyes faltering. Udo looked up with alarm, reaching out, trying to give Marco support.

"You kidnapped these people, people that weren't threatening anyone." Marco said, collecting himself, "Now you're going to let them go." His words were strong, evenly matched, showing a remarkable amount of restraint. Wes smiled a bit, having to give his enemy a bit of credit at that.

"If I let you go, it's going to go just like it did before. Can't you see the headlines now? Terrorism, war crimes, inhumane experiments. My great grandfather started hunting your kind because they were going to end his way of life... and if I let any of you go, you'll do just that. Maybe not with your claws or your teeth, but you'll do it. I'm not letting you get out of here alive." Wes replied.

"Don't go around the corner, let them come to us. They can't get a clear shot with the bulkhead." Marco whispered, preparing himself. He sensed the wolves around him bracing themselves. He could hear the others bunched up in safe spots behind them... but he also heard something else, something that he had also missed. It wasn't the werewolves and it wasn't the hunters. Marco inched closer to the bulkhead and looked out carefully, his eyes drawn to the T-junction that branched off from where they were.

A lone figure stood at the end of the hallway, dressed in a light grey mesh bodysuit with a hood pulled over his head. His face was obscured by an oval mask devoid of features other than two rectangular slits for eyes. He was tall, broad shouldered, fit and healthy. Even without Marco's enhanced senses, Wes had felt a shift in the confrontation as well, his head turning, his long wavy hair brushing against his shoulder.

The figure stood at the end of the hall like a ghost, grey against the dreary cement walls. The figure had no gun, no knife, no weapon of any kind apart from the long metal staff that he held. Wes looked at the figure like some sort of specter, uncertain of if it represented friend and foe. Both Marco and Wes watched the slightest of movements, the stranger's finger moving to brush a latch in the staff. Movement came as something snapped out, clicking and latching into place as it formed an angular crook - five sides of a hexagon. The entire weapon suddenly crackled with blue light as electricity passed through the length of it.

"Fuck..." Wes whispered before he opened fire at the figure. The other hunters followed suit, but the figure surged forward undaunted. Marco waved his collected pack back a few steps, but he edged around the corner as best he could, trying to watch, trying to see. One of the hunters threw his weapon down and grabbed his knife, charging at the stranger. His charge was met with an impact on his leg, the crook of the staff catching his ankle.

The crackle of electricity flashed brightly as it arced through the hunter, forcing his muscles to spasm involuntarily as he crumpled to the ground. A spark glanced off of the stranger's mask as a bullet hit the metal there, then several more. It was enough for the figure to slow, even taking a step back. Wes flashed a grin of victory, at least until the stranger crouched down, grabbing the weapon that the hunter had dropped.

Wes cursed once more just before the hail of bullets struck the wall next to him, cutting into the cement, sending divots flying. Wes swung open a heavy door and ducked out behind it, waiting for his fellow hunter to join him before pulling it shut. The heavy rotary wheel lock spun before it clicked into place, a clang echoing through the door a moment later. The figure stood there, a rifle in one hand and a shepherd's staff in the other. Marco slowly inched around the wall, looking at the man.

"Thank you..." He said softly. The figure turned, the rectangular slits in the mask looking his direction.

"Thank me when this is over. We need to hurry. I know a back way to the docks." The stranger said before he turned, making haste down the hallway. Marco looked at the stranger, sniffing the air. There was something faintly familiar about their scent, but not exactly right. It was like how Yom's siblings smelled like him but different at the same time, but Marco couldn't figure out who this stranger reminded him of. There wasn't time to question it. They had an ally in the fight but lives were on the line and time was running out. They had to escape, and they had to do it soon.