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The Awake

Ch. 1

Rebecca Slater

It was near twilight, all our meetings were. I saw Miles already, standing against the wall of the burnt out gas station. The rat leaned back against the old, soot-stained brick. His black and blue striped hair falling down his shoulders. Somehow clean and greasy looking all at once. He was pretty average, if not painfully skinny. Of course that rail-slim frame belied toned muscles, and the physical fitness of a seasoned warrior. Even at a good distance away I could see the dim glow of a lighter, his hands cupped to keep the wind off the cigarette in his mouth. As I got closer, I could smell the scent of tobacco smoke and Axe body spray. He wore a Rise Against t-shirt. The sleeves had been cut off, and it was split down the sides, just a few centimeters before it would be completely in half. It showed pale scars, from combat and other aspects of his life, good and bad. He wore cargo pants, the pockets bulging with the gods know what. To top off the look, he had a gray beanie and a pair of combat boots. Every time I saw him, he looked like he found the day’s fashion in a teenage boy from 2010’s Goodwill donation pile.

Even though he didn’t look my way, I saw his ear twitch, very subtly. His hand moved back to put the lighter away, but stayed near his hip. Careful, measured movements. He turned slowly and turned to face me. His cigarette’s small glow reflected in his thin, mirrored shades as he took a long drag. I normally hate the smell of smoke, but with him, it’s different. Almost nostalgic. I bought him a vape once, he took one drag, called it “real faggot shit” and threw it away. He had the scraggly edges of a darker toned beard, which hung out further than the rest of his facial fur. I could never tell if he was trying to look like a cool guy, a nerd, or a douchebag, but he landed in the middle of the three.

He lifted off his sunglasses, and turned to look at me. His gray eyes were like ice. They constantly made small shifts, never staying still, always watching the environment. “You ready for tonight?” His voice was quiet, as ever, but it held an almost imperceptible note of excitement. I nodded. “Take care of your car, we’re taking mine.”

“I knew you were going to say that, you always do. It’s parked in the car wash, and it’s got a charm on it to keep people from seeing it as readily.”

“Good girl,” he said, idly. Something in my stomach fluttered, my face flushed for a half second. In the darkness, with those shades, he probably didn’t see.

I’m a fox, with black fur. I’m not much taller than he is, but a little bit. My hair is brown, and hangs down my back on an average day. Now it’s tied neatly into a bun, and tucked away under a ball cap. As Miles always said, “don’t let anyone have anything to get a hold of.” I was wearing solid black, long-sleeves, sweat pants, etc. The only thing of color on my outfit was the pink souls, and toe tips on my converse.

I looked towards the carwash, and then back at Miles. I could see the dim glow on his face, coming out from behind his shades. A few moments later, I heard an engine start. This was followed by the bassy start to First of the Year (Equinox). A PT Cruiser, dark green with black flames painted from the hood to the doors, rolled around the corner. The blue underglow gently pooled beneath it, the headlights were still off. The car drove up towards us, stopping just short of him. He patted the hood gently, almost lovingly. The doors popped open, and we walked around. The steering wheel straightened up on its own, as he sat in the driver’s seat, and buckled up. The modded exhaust made a soft puttering sound as the engine idled.

I looked at my partner, lost in thought for a second. Every time I saw him, it was a mix of emotions. Excitement and nerves for the night to come, a weird sense of calm, and a general confusion. Nothing makes sense about him, yet somehow everything does. We’re hunters, supposed to do our jobs with the utmost secrecy. You’d think his gaudy possessions would catch the eye, but more often than not, people look away. Like some sort of Kyle McMonster Energy camouflage. No one wants to make eye contact with a tasteless prick. Even the body spray serves our job, confusing and confounding heightened senses, and causing disruption. He always claims that’s the point of all of it, but on a real level, I think he also likes it.

Lost in thought, I hadn’t really noticed the car back out of the spot and headed to the driveway. Suddenly, the engine revved high, and I was violently ejected from the back corners of my mind, as I was pushed back into my seat. The woods near the edge of the highway flew past, lane markers appearing just in the edge of the headlights before vanishing beneath the hood. The normally busy I-45 was almost completely deserted. The exhaust sounded like the end of the world, rattling off the trees. He opened the window, throwing out his cigarette butt. He took both hands off the wheel, one fishing for his pack of Red Island Roosters, the other for his lighter. The steering wheel continued to make minor adjustments on its own, keeping the car secure on the road. He finally finished his search, and lit another smoke. The cool wind of a February evening blew through the car. It was almost chilly.

“Remind me, what we’re doing tonight.” I said, taking my eyes off of him, and looking out the passenger window.

“We’re hunting a weral.” He reached into the pocket on my seat back, and pulled out a folder. I took it, and flipped it open. “Bear, New Mexico Black. Female, about the age of forty. Last confirmed sighting was somewhere around The Woodlands and Shenandoah. However, recent events suggest she moved further north, into the wooded areas around the highway.”

“I’m not too familiar with that area, only ever been down to Houston a couple times.” I flipped through the papers in the folder. Evidence of traveler’s stranded on the side of the road, vagrants, and others who stumbled too close to the woods being mauled and torn to ribbons. The pictures were graphic and detailed, but I had gotten used to it. Now, it was just another day at work. “This is going to be a tough one.” I said, as I held up a blurry picture of a shadow approaching a doomed phone holder.

“I brought plenty of resources, don’t worry. Two P-90s, a couple of AKs, a shotgun and shells, and if all that fails, there’s a sanctified RAW and a couple sticks of blessed dynamite.”

“That covers offense, what about defense.”

“A couple of healing necklaces, a bottle of Moonlight-Rosemary infusion, and some incense flares.”

“That’s a little light”

“Rosie was only able to do so much on short notice.” He said with a shrug.

“Let’s hope the guns are enough.”

He made a small “hmm,” sound under his breath.

We talked strategy for a little bit, but eventually fell into silence. It wasn’t a harsh silence, it was the type that was soft and companionable.

The turn signal clicked on, and the car pulled to the side of the road. A faint, almost invisible turn off into the woods appeared. He put his shades back on, the green glow returned. The headlights of the car flipped off, and the underglow vanished. The exhaust quieted, and Miles turned off into the woods. The trail was narrow, with some deep ruts in it. The moon was barely visible, peeking out on occasion through the dense canopy. The trail started to open up into a clearing. The car stopped, I heard the parking brake slide itself up, and the engine cut. Miles and I unbuckled at the same time. We got out, and walked to the back of the car. The hatch opened, and revealed a small arsenal of guns. I reached in, putting my hands on an AK, and feeling the familiar weight. I checked the gun over, making sure it was clean and in good condition. Miles unrolled a small bundle containing the ammo. He spread it out on the edge of the clearing, just under the light of the full moon. He took off his dog tags, and pulled a second necklace, bearing the sign of the Nine True Gods. He placed it on his neck instead. He held the amulet out in front of him, letting it catch the moonlight.

“Goddess of the True Light, I beseech you in the aspect of Artemis.” He bowed his head. “Maiden of the hunt, the moon, and the wild I call upon you. Aid us on this night. As we pursue our quarry, on a mission of purifying this poor, wretched spirit, give us your skill and your wisdom. Guide these rounds truly, and let them find their mark within the flesh and soul on this full moon’s night.” He kissed the amulet. He took his dog tags in his hand, gave his primary tag a kiss, and also the little one that looked like a dumpster on fire.

It always made me happy to see him kiss that for luck and a blessing too, as it was a spur of the moment gift I gave him. Though he’d rolled his eyes at first, the small, green dumpster (with My Life Is a Garbage Fire printed on it) hangs near his heart every day. He carefully put the tags in a small pack he retrieved from the hatch. He grabbed his gun, and stood up. I put on my necklace, and grabbed a pack as well. The trunk closed slowly, making a soft click as it latched. He nodded towards the cabin. I saw a gray light show around the frames of the shades.

“She’s in there.” His tone was neutral, betraying nothing. Yet, again, I could see his ears flicking, his head subtly shifting to get a view of everything. He was alert, and tense. He was a predator about to go to work. “About 300 pounds, if I had to guess, probably more once the change happens. She’s gonna be mostly muscle now, I can’t even imagine what she’ll be later.” It was weird to hear words so awed, from a voice so flat.

“The sooner we get her out here, the faster this will be over.”

“Don’t forget, there’s one last step.” He pulled out his phone. I saw the screen rapidly flash through a series of numbers. It was already ringing by the time he got it up to his ear. He paused for a second. “Hunter in the field, tag 34181-JH8.” There was a long pause. “I need a clear check, and divert. North of Houston, south of Dallas. Unsure exactly where we are, lock on to this phone’s GPS.” He waited for a second. “Got it, confirm clear all PD and emergency services, and divert away from my location.” He looked towards me. “Shouldn’t be too hard, given we’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere. Still, be safe now and not sorry later.” He immediately turned back to the call, “Yes, clear confirmed. Request broadband radio and satellite monitoring of my location, have back up and medics on standby.” There was another pause. “Acknowledged, and thank you.” He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What did he say?” I asked, looking around the clearing.

“Backup and a med team will be notified, but the nearest teams are almost an hour out. We’re on our own for the most part.”

“Hopefully we’ll be ok. I wish Rosie had given us a Mistletoe and Wolfbane kit. Just in case…”

“Don’t worry, we’re likely to die before we get turned.” He said, a little too calmly for my liking. “Even if it does happen, it’s reversible for a few days. You know that.”

“Still,” I looked up at the moon and took a deep breath. “Well, that’s all the prep we can do. You ready?”

He pulled a pistol from his hip, and raised it over his head. He fired two shots into the night air. Both times, I saw his grimly set face in the muzzle flash. He lowered the pistol, aiming it towards the door of the cabin. “One way in, one way out.” I knew he was watching her heat signature. I wished I had a pair of shades like his, I wanted to know what she was doing in there. “She’s coming, get ready.” His breathing became almost mechanical, practiced.

I felt my legs quaking for a second, but I raised my gun and sighted in on the door. Suddenly, the shaking stopped. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting. The door flew open, the bear ran out under the porch roof and held her paws up. She was breathing hard, and even from a distance, it was clear she was in pain.

“Please,” she called out into the night air, “Please, you have to go away, get away from me!”

“Don’t worry,” Miles called, “We’re here to help, we want to give you rest.”

“I’m sorry, but this is the only way this will end.”

“No, wait.” She stumbled back. “You’re here to kill me?”

“It’s not your fault, the things you’ve done. You can’t control this, no one can.” I said, lowering my gun slightly. “As I said, it’s the only way to end your suffering, and the suffering of those around you. I know you’re scared, but I need you to step out into the moonlight.”

“No, I’m not going to let you kill me. I can live out here, I can be just fine. I don’t want to hurt anyone but I’m scared to die.”

“I know,” I said, swallowing hard. A fully transformed weral is easy to justify killing. One who is still cognisant, still human… That’s another thing entirely. It makes you feel like a murderer, even when it’s a mercy.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She stepped towards the edge of the porch, “but I can’t die, not yet. I’m not ready.” She took another step, the moonlight began to touch her fur. She groaned as the pain obviously intensified. The transformation was quickening in the moonlight. “Please, I didn’t want to kill you.” She fully sprinted into the moonlight, pausing in the center of the clearing. She was yards away still, but the transformation was apparent immediately. She let out several involuntary moans and groans. Her bones and flesh twisted sickeningly in the moonlight. She began to grow. Her humanoid features began to become more and more primal.

I raised my gun again, and started to back away. Miles was doing the same. We both knew we had to wait for the process to run its course. Only then was it vulnerable, only then could it be purged. It felt like an eternity, the sounds of bones breaking and flesh rending almost drowned out by the beating of my heart in my ears. Finally, it was done. What had once been a sentient, aware woman, was now little more than primal instinct. Its eyes opened wide, glowing a dim yellow. The muzzle dripped with saliva, as its claws flexed. The beast let out a roar, and it began.

The blast of gunfire split the night. Even through the earplugs the colliding roars of our guns and the beast were almost deafening. Bullets ripped flesh, tearing away pieces of skin and muscle. However it kept approaching. I saw it turn towards miles, who dropped his pistol in favor of one of the P90s. I watched him run, ducking under its claws. His gun ran dry, and it turned from him back to me. It was my turn to dodge, I retreated back into the tree line. However, I crossed the edge of the circle just in time to feel a huge paw collide with my back. My necklace flashed brightly, and I was launched into a tree a few feet away. “Stay alive please,” Miles called, in his flat voice.

As I stood up again, shaking myself off, I saw him mag out and open fire again. The thing was between us, blood and saliva running down its gaping maw. The blessed bullets were working and taking a hold, but it was slow going. Only the edges of the dark cloud were visible around its frame. It was going to take a lot to win this, I hoped we had it. Suddenly even that RAW and dynamite didn’t seem like enough. Still, I picked up my AK again, and ran back out into the clearing. I had to get its attention on me once again, as I knew he was going to run dry soon. Before it turned to look at me, however, it managed to catch one of his legs in its jaws with a sudden lunge. It ripped him off the ground, shaking him violently, before throwing him like a ragdoll to the ground. It was going to finish him off. I could see it preparing to. It stood to its full height, raising a claw above its head. Without hesitation, I drew one of the flares from my backpack. It lit suddenly, scattering the smell of purified incense around the clearing. The red flame burned above my head, as the white smoke formed and snaked its way towards the dark energy around the creature.

It began to swat at the air around it, shaking and snorting confusedly, before dropping to all fours and running into the woods. As it fled, I ran to Miles. He sat up. One leg curled towards him, the other remained stretched out into the grass. His necklace was flickering, his breath was labored and had a slight wheeze to it. I could see his teeth gritting. “Fuck.” A full sentence in and of itself. “Fuck, I think it’s broken. Probably did in a couple ribs too.” He was shaking, his head didn’t look steady.

“Hold on,” I started to fish in his bag.

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. Don’t let it get away.”

“Don’t you argue with me, asshole.” I growled. I finally put my hands around the small bottle. I pulled it from the backpack and pressed it to my forehead. “Maiden, Mother, Crone, and father horned upon a throne of bone, I call to you. Hear me, aspects of the shadow, light, wood, and earth. Lend me your healing, in soul and flesh, and let this soul’s wounds be mended.” I popped the cork, splashing some on the wounds of his leg, and holding the rest to his mouth.

He grabbed it and drank quickly and deeply. He let out a choking cough, before easing back down into the grass. “Okay, you got me the potion. Now get after it.”

It was going to take some time for the potion to take effect, whether or not it was completely able to hear his wounds. I held my own necklace up to the moon, and fixated on it. The light shown, still fairly bright. That was good at least, I was still protected. I started to run to the car. I stopped to take one last look at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but still wheezing. I couldn’t stop now, as much as I wanted to. I dropped the AK and the spent flare, and sprinted back to the car. I threw the hatch open, and reached for the heavy ordinance. I strapped a second AK, already loaded, onto my shoulder. I grabbed the two sticks of dynamite too. If nothing else, I could maybe take that beast out with me in an emergency. I stopped by the driver’s seat, grabbed his spare lighter, tucked it into my shirt pocket, and dashed away.

The trail was easy to follow. Shredded trees and bushes, frenzied claw marks on trees and ground. I found it, finally. There was a narrow stream running through the woods. It was soaking its face in the water. I crouched down, looking to all sides. I had a clear shot, I measured the distance in my head. There was plenty of fuse time, and I would probably be clear of the blast. I took several quick, shallow breaths. I took one, deep one, and held it. There were a couple clicks in the darkness. The beast turned its head at the sound, but it was too late. The rocket shrieked as it launched. The blast was brilliant, I felt the pressure and heat wash over me. The beast flew across the stream, crashing into the underbrush on the other side. The air smelled of smoke and burnt fur. Some of the underbrush had caught fire. I could see it standing again. I pulled a pack of dynamite out, lighting it and letting it fly. A second, powerful blast. The beast was badly injured, but still alive. The dark aura of a dying weral swirled around it. It stood shakingly and haltingly. In the dim firelight I saw it. The flesh was burned and falling away, one of the glowing eyes was dark, and its jaw hung at an unsettling angle. It let out a loud, gargled bellow, and started to lumber forward.

I held the trigger down, screaming at the top of my lungs. Each impact stripped charred flesh from the creature. Every rip and tear caused the black aura to grow wider and denser. It enshrouded more and more of the beast, it came towards me still. I ran dry, right as it got within striking distance. It grabbed me in both paws, one around my hip and the other at my bicep. There was a loud crunch, as my shoulder was dislocated, its claws biting into my hip. It growled low, lifting my neck towards its mouth. I was cold, I could feel my limbs getting pins and needles. My body was preparing itself for death. My vision turned gray, and my breathing became shallow and quick.

There was a moment in which everything seemed to stand still. I could clearly see the fire burning beneath me, I could see its remaining eye, the pupil dilated and mad. Everything else was a blur. In slow motion, I heard the sound of a magnum firing. I heard the angry wasp sound of a bullet passing close to me. Its skull split, its pupil narrowed. Its grip loosened, giving me a hard fall to the ground. It teetered on its feet for a moment. It let out a pathetic snuffling sound, its remaining eye dimmed, the darkness dissolved away like smoke. Finally, it collapsed on top of me. The massive lungs compressed, letting out one, final, powerful roar that shook my body beneath it. At last, it was quiet.

I saw miles walk into the clearing, he held his sidearm in front of him. He kept it leveled on the bear, taking small, testing steps as he approached. Finally, he holstered the gun, and ran full tilt towards me. He stopped, sliding the last few inches, and dropped to his knees. He crouched, bracing his shoulder against the bear. It had already begun to change back into a very mangled husk of the woman it used to be. He braced, and pushed as hard as he could. It rolled off of me, enough that I could wiggle out at least. He fell to his knees with an agonized cry grabbing his side. He looked at me, and pulled his phone out. He held it in front of him and shouted “Hunter in the field, tag 34181-JH8, objective complete. Urgent, scramble sleeper and awakened medical. Have our medics meet us in the field and ready transport to the nearest hospital. Severely wounded, repeat, severely wounded.” He stood up, although he quickly fell back against a tree. “Can you walk?”

I tried to stand up, and fell back down. He sighed heavily. “We have to get back to the car.” He bent down, groaning. He put my good arm over his shoulder, and slid me onto his back. I tried to protest, but he stood anyway. I heard him cry out, and felt him trembling. I don’t know how he did it, but step by shaking step, he slowly got us back to the clearing. The car pulled further into the clearing, the doors opening. He threw me into the passenger seat, buckling up my seatbelt. My vision was graying out, and there was a staticy, tingly feeling all over. There was a sort of throbbing, whirling sound in my ears. I could feel my head lolling over, but he caught my chin, and shook me hard. “Stay with me dammit, if you go down you may not come back up.” He pulled a small, crumpled piece of paper from his pants pocket. “Sanentur vulnera. Spiritus os ad anchorum. Et exaudi orationem famuli huius. Serva Aliza viventium.” The scroll burned from the edges, the ash fluttering towards me. I felt my head clear a little. The pain, however, suddenly slammed in with a vengeance I let out a yell, and he placed his arms around me, shushing softly. “Come on Aliza, I’ll get you safe.” His stoic mask dropped, and I finally heard the panic in his voice. He hopped into the driver’s seat. The car whirled around in the clearing, speeding over bumps and obstacles back towards the highway. It erupted from the woods, squealed onto the pavement, and began driving at a breakneck pace towards the south.

Red, white, and blue flashing lights appeared before us. We could hear sirens approaching. I saw him relax, the car suddenly bobbled in its lane, swerving onto the shoulder and coming to a stop. The air was quiet for a second, as we both struggled to breathe. All of a sudden in a quiet, almost comedic way, a chiptune version of Black Parade began to play. He held up his phone. “Got it, our medics arrived on scene. This unit is clear, task complete.” He hung up, and laid back in his seat.

I don’t remember much of the ride to the hospital. I was in and out. At some point I was given an IV, and a small bottle of a healing tonic. Then I was passingly aware that my clothes had been cut off, and my wounds were being tended to. I came to as we approached the hospital. I was still light headed. On top of that I was overwhelmingly nauseous. I was aware that I hadn’t seen Miles, I attempted to look around, then noticed I was in a cervical collar. “Your neck had some serious trauma,” one of the medics said, noticing that I had woken up. “That weral nearly killed both of you. Your partner is in a separate ambulance, we have him stable, and gave him a second draught of elixir, but he’s still likely got some internal bleeding. We don’t have time to divert to a hospital of ours, so you’re stuck with civilians.” The medic looked at me, a small smile on his face, “don’t worry though, we’ll cover for you. You two are going to be just fine. Their tech isn’t as good, but they’ll get you patched up.”

The ambulance pulled into the emergency bay, and the back doors opened. A crew came running out, led by a doctor. They reached the back of the ambulance, just as I was being lowered out. “What’ve we got?” Doctor asked, looking me over for a second, before turning his face back to the medic.

The medic grabbed a small charm around her neck, and spoke in a clear, slow tone. “All signs point to a car crash, wouldn’t you say doc?” There was a quick green flash in her eyes, that triggered a similar flash in the doctor’s.

“Car crash, right.” The medic continued to brief the doctor on my condition.

Just as I was being led away from the paramedic team, I heard her call “Oh, and standby, there’s a second on the way. He’s just as bad if not worse.”

The dizzy feeling returned. “Trauma, get two ORs ready, get Dr. Carter.” The doctor told a nurse. She ran off. I watched her go. That was the last thing I remember before I was overtaken by a ringing in my ears. A white aura formed in the edges of my vision, and started encroaching towards the middle. It held like that for a moment, just pure white and ringing. Then it was dark

I woke up sometime later. It wasn’t a peaceful drifting out of slumber, but rather a jump back into reality. It took a moment of heavy breathing to calm down. I took stock of my situation. The cervical collar was still there. My shoulder was in a sling. I had pain, in general, just pain. “Don’t move too much.” I froze. Slowly, I turned as much as I could to see Miles sitting on a chair in my room. He had an IV with two bags running down into his arm, he wore a hospital gown and grippy socks. Somehow, he looked even more like a dumpster rescue than normal. He stood, grabbing the edges of a walker. He limped towards the bed. He put his hand out, resting it gently on mine. “Hey.” He said, I met his eyes and he quickly flicked them away, rubbing the back of his head. “They told me I was worse off than you on the way in, but I guess they were wrong.” He crossed his arms, still refusing to look at me. “Medics couldn’t tell how much internal damage you suffered. You ruptured your spleen, and had some bad crushing and piercing injuries from that last encounter. Plus a fractured vertebrae in your neck that somehow you lucked out on. You shouldn’t have wasted that potion on me.”

“What about you?”

“Me? Broken tib/fib, pierced lung, and three broken ribs.” He sighed, “I also have a concussion, and some blunt force trauma and internal bruising. I’m ok though.” I noticed he was trembling from pain, trying to play it off. I scooted over in bed. Truthfully, my body moved on its own. He turned to look, and his face got a little flustered. I think I would have gotten less shock and confusion if I punched him in the face or kicked him in the crotch. He fumbled, trying to think of anything to say. Eventually, he looked at the ceiling. I could see his head move, as he went through some internal monologue. Slowly, eventually, he crawled in the narrow bed. He laid his head on my chest. I felt his tears on my skin as he turned his face where I couldn’t see it. “I… I’m glad you’re ok.” He said at last.

A nurse walked in, she started to speak but made eye contact with Miles. I don’t know what his face looked like, but she just cleared her throat. “I will come back in a few minutes.” She closed the door. I leaned back on the pillows, my hand rising of its own accord to stroke Miles’s hair. I felt him gently tighten his grip on me. That little moment seemed to last forever, just a quiet peace. I didn’t realize he felt the same.