FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Lykos

Second Skin

Chapter 15

(The Lost Ones)

There wasn't any sound quite like rain falling on a stopped car. Drops pelted the metal hood, beaded across the windshield, and ran in thick rivulets down along the molding. There was a faint ebb and flow, rain falling heavier one moment and lighter the next, but the sound never stopped. The grime from the long road trip had been washed away, leaving the car looking fresh and clean once more. Fletcher and Artyom sat in silence, looking out of the window at the base of the Futurza building.

The two had sat in silence for almost ten minutes. The storm had put an end to their plan to hike in, and upon reaching the tower, they had seen the signs indicating that it was closed to the public due to the storm. It had been oddly easy to get into the city. Most of the traffic was headed out of the city, and the majority of citizens had decided to simply wait out the storm. Fletcher's face slowly tightened into a look of concern.

"I mean, we could have gone in and told them we're werewolves." Fletcher suggested finally, breaking the stillness.

"They'd turn you away, you don't show any symptoms. And what if I couldn't get out? No one's left their program." Yom replied.

"That we know of. Their press power is too good. I mean, no one's even commented on those commercials of theirs. After Ren told me what I was, I thought about that annoying tone at the start of those ads they run. Only werewolves can hear them. They deliberately mined their ads with attention grabbers." Fletch growled, his teeth looking a little sharper than normal.

"Easy there..." Yom said, putting a hand on Fletcher's leg, "We still need to figure out what we're going to do. We didn't have much of a plan to begin with other than getting here."

"It feels insane to me that we got this close, that we drove all the way here, that he might be somewhere in that building and-" Fletcher froze, his eyes narrowing a little as he saw one of the doors from the tower open and someone moved out into the rain. The water was still coming down hard, pelting the figure. He moved down the street quickly, trying to get to his car, passing right by the Mazda. Yom and Fletcher both turned, watching the man pass. He was tall, blessed with long, slick black hair and a cinnamon toned complexion. Tall, broad shouldered, and with facial features they distinctly recognized.

"Was that?" Fletcher asked. Artyom nodded.

"Yes, it had to be." Yom replied, turning to try and look out the back window.

"You're sure?" Fletcher asked, turning the car on. The windshield wipers began flicking back and forth, fighting back the torrent of rain.

"Marco's father." Yom agreed, "He's getting into a... white Toyota." Yom said, his foot tapping the floor mat, "He's coming this way, get ready." Yom said, swinging back to sink into his seat, pulling his seatbelt back into place. Fletcher waited, his heart beating hard in his chest. He checked the side view mirror, verifying the car was coming. He waited to turn his turn signal on until there was no chance their target might stop. As the car started to pass, Fletcher pulled out, falling into place behind it.

The street lights gleamed brightly, standing out with the backdrop of grey clouds. Yellow, then red. The Toyota ahead of them turned on its turn signal and Fletcher did the same. When the light turned green, the two cars rounded the corner and disappeared from view, leaving the Futurza tower to withstand the downpour.

``

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Cold, dark, fetid water poured through a crack in the cement wall with the power of a fire hose, splashing across the cement floor as four men carried up a metal dome with a rubber gasket, fighting against the pressure as they slammed it into the wall and used all of their might to hold it in place. More men had been standing by on the sides of the hall and stepped in, bringing their tools up, screwing huge bolts into the edges of the dome, anchoring it into the cement. The rushing water had come to a stop, though the hall was flooded with it.

Thick boots stepped through the standing water, sending out ripples. Wes looked down at it with disgust. There were torn up leaves and twigs and a fair amount of dirt mixed in with the water. He looked up at his hunters, soaked to the bone and exhausted. A smile crossed his face as he lifted his hands.

"This, my friends, is what we are about. You have fought back the forces of nature, you have preserved our work, you have proven yourselves to be the men I knew you were." Wes grinned, "The mop up can wait. Drinks are on the house, celebrate your success!"

Cheers rose up and the men began moving off, careful of the standing water. Wes clapped a few of them on the back as they passed, letting them disappear down the hallway. Wes looked back at the flooding, shaking his head. He turned to leave, but sensed a presence, something there that wasn't supposed to be. He looked up to see Doctor Neer.

"An interesting response..." Doctor Neer commented, "This hallway could pose a hazard if left alone." he said. Wes gave a sad shake of his head.

"This hallway and everything else here." Wes commented, "My men are having issues with our mode of operation. They're still adjusting to the fact that we have to keep the werewolves alive."

"Is there a concern over their ability to remain focused on their duties?" Neer questioned.

"They'll do their work, they just have to let off a bit of steam. We didn't need to deal with the complex coming down around our heads on top of everything."

"That... was an unfortunate oversight, to be sure. I have a team checking for any other defects that might impede our efforts." Neer replied.

"You have a very funny way of saying 'drown us all without notice'." Wes commented. Neer made nothing more than a noise with his mouth as he turned.

"You should enjoy 'letting off a little steam' with your men. Perhaps then we can resume our work together with a more respectful attitude." Neer said before he turned, moving back the way he had, barely making a sound. Wes gritted his teeth. He hated that man, and he hated even more that he depended on him to make enough money to keep them all fighting the good fight.

``

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Water sloshed around the tires of the Mazda as it slowly drove down another side road, creeping along at a snail's pace. Fletcher looked around with a growing urgency while Yom peered out the side window, checking each home they passed. The drive from downtown to the suburbs hadn't taken too long, but when they had entered the labyrinth of cookie cutter homes laid out in a maze of cul-de-sacs and mirrored lanes, they had finally lost their quarry.

Every house was two story, covered with mismatched bricks and gabled roofs, porch lights glowing bright gold to fend off the grey day. The lawns were green, the bay windows covered with curtains, the sidewalks bleached white by harsh sun. They were impressive, but there were so many that their hunt was turning out to be a daunting one.

"I can't believe we lost him." Yom growled.

"We couldn't run that last red, it would have been too obvious." Fletcher replied.

"He was our only lead, our only way to figure anything out." Yom said, sinking back in his seat, glowering as his eyes shifted from brown to amber. Fletcher reached over, slapping Yom's chest before he pointed.

"Look." Fletcher said starkly. Yom followed Fletcher's finger, spotting the white Toyota parked outside of one of the houses. Yom leaned forward, nearly crawling onto the dashboard to read the license plate.

"You didn't lose his scent." Yom grinned.

"Well, I did, but... they moved pretty recently, the garage is still probably full of boxes and stuff." Fletcher said. Yom nodded, though he slowly sank back in his seat.

"We... still don't have a plan. It's just like at the tower." Yom realized.

"Not really... I mean, same basic plan is go up, but I'm pretty sure even if things go terrible, we won't get trapped here." Fletcher said. Yom nodded, though he said nothing. Fletcher pulled the car up to the curb and put it into park, stretching for a bit before he stepped out. The rain continued to fall, but the drops felt smaller, sparser. The sound of them hitting the houses was soft and subtle, and the water collected so nearly along the curb, traveling right for storm drains that got very little use most of the year.

Fletcher got out first, the rain beading up on his glasses and soaking into his hat. It felt refreshing on his skin after the long drive, though he knew he had looked more presentable. Fletcher made it almost half way up the sidewalk to the porch before he realized Artyom was lagging behind. Fletcher let out a soft sigh and turned, only to see Yom had frantically run a comb through his hair and his beard before getting out.

"Are you coming?" Fletcher asked. Yom took several large strides to close the gap, allowing Fletcher to resume his pace and knock on the door with three distinct raps. There was no response for a moment, but then Fletcher sensed movement inside somehow, a sense that he hadn't practiced much with. The door clicked and then opened, revealing a woman in her late thirties, her dark brown hair kissed with highlights of a lighter caramel color. She was nearly as tall as Fletcher, enough that they met eyes over the stoop.

"Hello, I'm sorry for the interruption, but-"

"Rayne Fletcher..." Cira whispered, her eyes widening as a grin crossed her lips, though the grin faltered after a moment as she looked over at Artyom, then the car, realizing it was empty. Her smile faded completely. She took a breath, "What's happened?" she asked. Fletcher looked at Yom, feeling entirely blindsided.

``

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The clatter of metal against metal came as a metal cage was slid back into place above Marco's, locking into place. Marco tried to stay aware of the guards, of the condition of the cage, looking for any opportunity to escape, but with each passing hour, it seemed that the assault on his senses were wearing him down. The guards finished locking the cage down and returned the way they came, leaving Tofino in his prison breathing rapid, shallow breaths.

"Are you okay?" Marco asked, looking up at his cellmate. The blond werewolf looked pale, though there were harsh red marks and swollen bumps along his arm. Tofino kept breathing fast, nearly hissing. Marco realized it was all he could do to keep from crying out in pain. Marco reached up, offering his hand. Tofino felt the touch and interlocked his fingers in Marco's, palms pressed with only the metal grating between them. Slowly his breathing deepened and slowed.

"Th... Thanks." Tofino said softly.

"Not a problem." Marco said, giving a weak smile as he tried to reorient in his cage.

"They poked me with a thing, it had a bunch of needles. I started having an allergic reaction in a few spots, and when they wouldn't give me anything to help, I..." Tofino trailed off. Marco looked at his arm again, realizing he had been forced to use his claws to extract the foreign substance. Marco closed his eyes, feeling the sting of a tear at the corner of one.

"I promise we'll get out of this... We'll go far away from here and you won't have to suffer again." Marco said. Tofino smiled a bit at that, still having to control his breathing.

"Does your pack live somewhere remote?" Tofino asked. Marco smiled gently.

"Yes and no. There's a town there, but it's pretty isolated. And few people around there know we're wolves." Marco said. Tofino nodded, looking down at Marco, studying the bigger, stronger man.

"Are there any direwolves there?" He asked. Marco shook his head.

"We have one dark wolf." Marco replied. Tofino was intrigued enough to tilt his head, distracted enough from the pain.

"What's a dark wolf?" He asked. Marco was a little surprised, but realized he had been at the epicenter of the changes. He considered for a moment.

"When the blood moon eclipse happened, the curse that affects the werewolves... changed. The fang clan, the direwolves, weren't so disconnected from their other selves. The amnesia they had about their other side disappeared, their transformations became more fluid... The curse evolved to reflect the progress that the wolves had made." Marco said. Tofino's face soured slightly at that.

"But... I saw a direwolf after the eclipse." Tofino said softly. Marco's eyes widened.

"You saw one? Where?" Marco asked, feeling his heart racing as he anticipated the answer he dreaded.

"Here..." Tofino said softly.

``

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Warm air rose up from the vents in the hardwood floor, slowly evaporating away the excess moisture that clung to Fletcher and Artyom's clothes. Cira had taken them directly to the kitchen and sat them down, setting two plates of enchiladas down in front of them moments later. After pouring them some milk to go with it, she sat down in a chair on the other side of the table, looking at the young men with shrewd eyes.

"Just tell me, is he alright? " Cira said. Fletch shifted uncomfortably.

"We can't. We don't know." Fletcher replied.

"Did he run away? Did you hurt him?" She asked, a sharp edge in her voice made even more apparent by her accent.

"No! No, it wasn't us..." Fletcher stammered. Yom shrank lower in his seat. This was all wrong. He'd imagined the way he'd meet Marco's parents over and over again, how he'd impress them with his strength and cunning and dedication to their son. He'd win them over, get their blessing for the marriage and bring their families together...

"You need to start talking." Cira said definitively, "My husband won't be in the shower much longer." she said. Fletcher felt a moment's relief.

"Nothing was wrong with... us." Fletcher said, knowing that Cira knew at least a little about her son's orientation, if nothing else. He sat up straighter, "We were camping... with a lot of our classmates. It was just like all the other times until... sunrise. We didn't hear them coming, and they came in so fast. They took Marco, they took so many of our classmates. I couldn't get to Marco, I tried, I tried so hard. I just couldn't..." Fletcher said, shaking, his eyes growing watery, his fingers clenched so tight that they nearly broke the skin of his palms. A few tears rolled down Cira's hand as she listened, picturing what must have gone through Marco's mind.

"Los perdidos..." Cira whispered, reaching to wipe her cheek. Yom looked up at that.

"The lost ones?" he asked. Fletcher turned, an eyebrow raised at the fact that Yom had understood the Spanish phrase. Cira nodded, trying to compose herself.

"It's been on the news... Dozens and dozens of disappearances, entire groups of people. Idaho, South Carolina, Vancouver. It was like they all got ready to go on a trip, but they never came back. There was no record of them on any planes, trains or anything else. They just vanished. Their families tried to report it right away, but you know missing persons cases. They don't start until forty eight hours have passed." Cira said, "You should have told me."

"I know, I- we should have. We didn't know who to trust or what to do, but you should know everything... Especially now." Fletcher said, looking at Yom before looking back, "Your son is... a werewolf." Fletchers said. A year before, that would have sounded like a joke. Six months ago it would have sounded like a nightmare. Now it was a subject that Cira's husband brought home from work, talking about all the projects he worked on.

"H-How?" Cira asked, barely able to speak. Her eyes drifted down to the wood grain in the kitchen table as she replayed the last year in her mind. Marco had grown so fast, so tall, so hairy... His attitude had changed, so much about him. She thought it had been him spreading his wings, but everything had been hidden from her.

"I did it." Yom said softly. Cira's gaze rose up from the table, her muscles tightening.

"You changed my boy into a werewolf?" She asked. Yom's teeth clenched.

"He was giving me CPR, I didn't mean to." Yom defended himself. Cira seemed a little more at ease with that answer. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but all three froze as they heard a click from down the hall as the bathroom door opened.

"Cira, I didn't know we were going to have company." Haku said, moving into the kitchen. Yom was impressed by how much he resembled Marco, although he lacked any significant body hair. Cira looked up at her husband, then back at the boys, then back to her husband.

"Haku..." Cira said softly, "Your son is a werewolf, and these are members of his pack." Her statement hung in the air for a moment, Fletcher and Yom frozen in place even as Haku chuckled, shaking his head.

"Very funny Cira." Haku said, though the stare he got from his wife made him shrink back a little. The mirth drained from his face and he looked back at the two strangers at his kitchen table, shaking his head, "No, no... Marco would have told us. He's never hidden anything from us." Haku said. Cira took a slow breath, bringing her teeth across her bottom lip.

"Our son... has had reason to hide a few things from us, but that is not the conversation we need to be having right now. Marco's been taken, kidnapped." Cira said. Haku looked startled, looking back to Fletcher and Yom.

"By who? Who would do this?" He asked, reaching out to brace his hand against the wall for support. Fletcher hesitated, but they'd come this far.

"We analyzed some of the weapons left behind. They used parts from Futurza." Fletcher said. Haku shook his head.

"No, that can't be right. Our tests are humane, all of our research participants are volunteers. They wouldn't do something like this." Haku said.

"What is the point of your tests? Who benefits?" Yom asked.

"It's to find a cure..." Haku said, a phrase he'd used many times at work, but as they left his lips it felt like a contradiction. Many of the experiments going on, even ones he was involved with, wouldn't translate well to offering a cure. If anything, they'd work well for hunting down werewolves. He looked back up, shaking his head, questioning everything. Cira stood up and moved over, putting a hand on her husband's hip.

"We're going to find Marco... But where do we start?" Cira asked. Haku swallowed, still feeling overwhelmed.

"If Futurza is involved, they can't hide everything... There has to be some breadcrumbs. I've got mid-level access to the systems." Haku said.

"We'll get you everything we know to narrow your search, but this isn't going to be easy. These people employed hunters to kidnap entire packs of werewolves. They... could try to kill you." Fletcher said softly. Haku nodded weakly.

"Maybe so, but if I put any of these people in danger, let alone my own son, I have to do what I can to find Marco, to help all of them." Haku said. Cira nodded.

"And we're going to be right there with you my love." Cira said, moving to the closet, opening up as she started to root around, collecting supplies. Haku turned.

"Love?" He asked, "I can't take you in without raising suspicion."

"I know that, I'm getting things for the stakeout and the rescue." Cira replied. Yom grinned a bit at that.

"I knew I would like you both." he said with relief.

``

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Water beaded against the windows of the restaurant, rolling down in thinner and thinner sheets until the sheets became rivulets, and then the precipitation finally subsided. The storm front had lost much of its energy and had drifted toward Austin, leaving Houston to finally start the process of drying out. For all the destruction and chaos it caused, Doctor Poulson had been glad at least for the cover of the storm.

Discovering his own infection had been a shock and he had reacted on instinct. Poulson knew that Futurza's mission was to understand lycanthropy, to develop a cure and help those poor individuals afflicted with it, but at the same time, he wasn't quite sure what they would do to one of their own if they became infected. He had a conflict of interest, he was a biased sample, he was a danger to them and to himself…

Even the journey through town had been fraught with perils. Every sound, every smell, every touch was so much more intense. His body was on high alert, and it had been burning calories. The weight had burned off of his stomach, his eye sight had improved, his hair even seemed more lustrous, taking on a rich and healthy blond instead of the pale platinum it had been before… but all of those changes came with a terrible price.

Eventually it had been Andrew's stomach that had done him in. He had left the streets, seclusion and anonymity for a good meal. Even though it was against his better judgment, Andrew had a hard time regretting his choice as the juicy, moist, rich steak was placed down before him, cooked barely more than was legally required. Doctor Poulson barely allowed the waiter to leave the table before he tore into it, hands clutching knife and fork like they were alien implements, resisting the urge to bite into the meat bare handed.

As soon as the steak hit his tongue, he let out a long, lingering moan of pleasure. Life had never been so rich, so full, so real. He moaned more with each bite, enough to earn the attention of those around him. He didn't care anymore. His body told him this was what had been missing, what he had needed, what he had been craving. He knew he'd have to do a better job at listening to his body and giving it what it wanted. He murmured more, gobbling the steak down before trying some of the roast potatoes.

Bite by bite, the meal disappeared until Poulson was left scraping up the juices of his meal with his fork, licking the tines clean, sighing with satisfaction. He leaned back, catching his reflection in the window, slowing down for a moment. He looked so much… younger - thirty, perhaps? The years had been erased and vitality restored… Even his hair seemed longer. He smiled a bit, almost fitfully. Here he was, afflicted with a condition that was considered a curse by all that had it, and yet he had been given gifts that others spent a fortune trying to achieve.

Andrew's moment of self reflection came to an abrupt end as he smelled something new… It was earthy, organic, a little spicy and sweet at the same time. Poulson looked up and around before he caught sight of a brunette young woman standing near the restaurant entrance. She was looking right at him, or more accurately, all over him. He swallowed a bit, a dumb grin crossing his face. She smiled more and gave a nod of her head and then tilted it toward the door.

Poulson nearly coughed; scrounging up what money he could, throwing it down onto the table. He left a very generous tip as he hurried across the restaurant. Most of the other patrons were glad to see him go. He pushed through the double doors of the entrance and stepped outside. The cement was still soaked from the rainfall, water gushing down along the gutters, ill-maintained drain spouts sputtering the stuff across the sidewalk.

Andrew looked around, trying to spot the redhead. He thought he caught her scent for a moment, but a new sense eclipsed his awareness. This one was different; it was… pain, pressure, and then dizziness. Poulson turned his head to see the dart in his shoulder, his eyes widening as fatigue swept over his body. He fell to his knees, then onto his side, struggling to stay conscious. A heavy pair of boots stepped into the water, diverting it as he crouched down to look at the doctor, then back at the brunette. Poulson snarled, showing his fangs, his eyes fluttering from brown to amber.

“You were right Samantha, looks like we do have ourselves a stray." The hunter chuckled to himself, watching as the Doctor succumbed to the dart and passed out cold.

``

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Little by little, Udo's claws raked across the metal mesh that made up his small cage. His muscles spasmed with cramps so intense it took everything he had not to scream out and that was coupled with a deep ache that nestled deep in his hips and femurs. Food had been scarce, treatment had been rough, and everything smelled damp all the time. Udo felt hollowed out. Marco's scent came and went. Whatever was happening, they were moving him around.

"Can you believe it, it's already on the news. All that money for secrecy and it still made it out." One of the guards muttered.

"Relax, Jeff, they don't know who did it or why." Another replied. Udo's head lifted, his eyes following the source of the conversation. It was something to distract himself from the pain at the very least.

"That's even worse. They don't know who did it. They don't know what we faced, what we dared to do... They don't know, and we can't tell anyone. Worst of all, we're here watching the sons of bitches when we should be eliminating the threat." Jeff muttered. There was a moment's silence from the other guard before he nodded.

"I'm not sure which is worse. The airport attacks didn't go like anyone planned. We were branded terrorists, targeted by the FBI. At least this way no one's going to cry social justice for these monsters." The other guard muttered.

"We've already lost Perkins and Lawrence... Who is to say that we won't be next? I mean, Pete, does your family have any idea where you are?" Jeff asked. The other guard shook his head slowly again.

"They think I'm doing contract work... Private security and stuff." Pete replied.

"Well, not a total lie." Jeff grinned. Pete chuckled weakly at that before nodding.

"Maybe we should do something to spice things up a little." Jeff said softly, "You still have that one in solitary, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, on his own he's fine." Pete said. Jeff's grin got a bit more manic.

"Well, maybe he shouldn't be on his own." he said before he looked around, eyes locking on Udo's. Jeff turned and started to move over, "What you looking at, beast boy?" Jeff asked.

"What are you doing?" Pete questioned. Jeff grabbed onto the handle of Udo's kennel and started to pull, dragging it out of its spot.

"Stop it!" Udo snarled but Jeff kept tugging, bringing the kennel down the hall toward one of the loading slots at the end. Pete was frozen in disbelief, not stopping Jeff or helping him. Jeff huffed at tugging the cage, but his building rage was enough to motivate him. He brought the cage over onto the metal track and slammed it into the wall before he slammed his hand down on the button. Little metal teeth latched onto the bottom of the kennel and pulled it forward, starting to slide it through the slot.

Udo tried desperately to change positions, to get ready as light disappeared around him. The kennel passed through a slot in the cement wall before emerging on the other side, rumbling to a stop. The front gate swung open and then the cage started to retract, leaving the back wall in place. It squeezed him out until he landed on the floor in a heap, panting and moaning, rolling over to stretch out his legs. At the very least there was relief in the changing of positions.

"You are fucked, man, you shouldn't have done that!" Pete's muffled voice came from the other side of the slot.

"It's just a handling error... How was I supposed to know isolation already had someone in there?" Jeff asked. Udo turned his attention from the slot to his surroundings, realizing that the air had changed. He smelled an abundance of death and decay, of blood and rot and... fear?

"No... No, no, no... I told them, I begged them... I have to be alone." A hoarse voice whispered before groaning.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you." Udo said into the darkness. He could only make out a small slit of the room where light spilled in from the slot.

"You won't hurt me, he will... and he'll hurt you too..." The hoarse voice groaned before a figure collapsed into the light, groaning louder, panting and coughing. Udo tried to push himself up to help, but as he watched, the figure's body began to contort. His skin grew painfully tight, every stretch mark and scar going white. The man seemed to be in his early thirties, his dark brown hair buzzed short, brown freckles covering his well tanned skin. He threw his head back and let out a cry just as his back split and something bigger, furrier, and wetter began to emerge.

"Oh no..." Udo whispered, inching back, putting his back against the wall of the isolation chamber. The life drained from the young man's eyes as his human body died yet again. Claws tore through the fingertips, his legs split out to reveal the newly formed, growing legs of a terrible creature. The human's remains came apart in tattered, grizzly pieces. Even the former human's jaws snapped and cracked, splitting apart as a muzzle pushed outward, huge fangs growing into place.

Udo closed his eyes as the direwolf broke out of its prison, erasing the human that had been in existence moments before. The creature rose up to all four paws, shaking its fur, sending a spray out across the cement. This was the reason for the smell, the source of the death and decay in the room. Each time the direwolf escaped, he killed his host, only for the human to reform and crawl out of the direwolf when he reverted. It was the darkest edge of the curse, an endless cycle of suffering.

The direwolf opened blood red eyes, blinking a few times as it came to its senses. It sniffed the air, smelling something new... something clean, pure, innocent. Hatred and malice filled its heart at once as a deep, rumbling, reverberating growl began to build and swell before its maw spread wide and it let out a resounding roar. Then those gleaming red eyes found Udo, his next target.