Chapter 8
Uninvited Guests
“What do you mean, eight months?” I let out an involuntary growl, my hand shaking as I held the cellphone to my ear. “I was told it would be a few weeks, and that was a few weeks ago!”
“I don’t make the zoning laws, Mr. Schultz. I just relay the information I’ve been given. The shortage is only in the tri-county area.”
“So, you’re saying there’s a housing shortage in places people actually live. Got it,” I said sarcastically, trying to keep my voice calm. “Is there anything in White Dunes?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“You didn’t even look!”
“Don’t take this personally, but White Dunes is for people of a certain means, and there’s no public housing allowed.”
It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. This was a government agency specifically for finding housing for half-turns, but it was run by humans who obviously couldn’t give a shit. The man on the other end didn’t say anything else but he was typing loudly enough for the phone to pick it up.
“Would you be open to moving north?”
“That depends. Are we talking North Avenue or Greenland?”
The man stopped typing. “There’s a little town in Clemson County called Norwich.”
“Where is Clemson County?”
“It’s on the border. About four hours from Sacramento.”
I growled again. “The reason I chose this area was because the bus goes everywhere I need to go. There are enough vacant human apartments in the city. Do I really need to jump through all these hoops?”
“Again, you’re trying to kill the messenger.
Given your requirements, it’s either Norwich or you’ll have to relocate to another state, and I’ll be frank with you—no bordering state is even going to let you drive through it in your current condition.
” He cleared his throat, his tone becoming more impatient.
“Think it over, look up the town and call me back with your decision. By law, I have to tell you that it is illegal for a half-turn to live on the streets. If you don’t find something suitable, you’ll have to go to Stonebrook until you transition. ”
“What’s that?”
The man paused again. “It’s a place for adolescent half-turns that have nowhere to go.”
“That sounds like an institution.”
“It’s a free place to live as a last resort.”
“It sure as hell won’t be my last resort!
” With that, I ended the call and placed the phone face-down on the wooden spool table.
The casual way he said that made me want to throw up.
I had no idea they were locking half-turns away, and I still didn’t understand why everyone thought we were so dangerous.
Darryl and Roscoe could break me in half like a toothpick, but they were allowed in places like grocery stores at least. How was I the one who was a menace to society?
It was a little after seven in the morning, and I was outside as usual, sitting on a damp deck chair, watching low clouds overhead.
Darryl had offered to let us stay until we found a place of our own, but eight months of the three of us living in this tiny place with no air conditioning was out of the question. I also hated sleeping on that hammock.
The door cracked open and Roscoe limped out onto the porch, holding werewolf-sized mugs of coffee in either hand, his head mane completely disheveled.
It almost looked like something had buried him and dug him up.
Stripes of dried blood clumped in the fur along his torso and legs, but there weren’t any signs of injury.
Whatever Darryl had done to him last night had healed up fast.
“You look like shit,” I said, carefully grabbing the handle of the mug he gave me.
Roscoe snorted, but his eyes were still distant. “I ain’t been fucked that hard in about ten years.”
“What the hell did he do? Wrap you in barbed wire and rip it off?”
“You’ll understand when you turn. We do things a lot differently.
It’s either rough and hard, rough and violent, rough and short, or rough and rougher.
” He ran his tongue along his sharp teeth, stopping where one of his canines was missing.
“It ain’t ever gentle though, especially when it comes with a lot of pent-up anger. ”
“Your tooth is gone.”
“It’ll grow back by tomorrow.”
The door opened again, and Darryl strutted outside holding his own mug with an image of a surfboard and a red heart around it.
“Good morning,” he said, taking in a deep sniff of fresh air, wagging his tail as if nothing at all had happened. “Looks like it’s going to be a busy day.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
Darryl gave a nod to the red flag above the lifeguard station in the distance then took a sip of coffee.
“Rip currents. There’s a storm off the coast that’s making the water extra choppy, and people never pay attention to the warnings.
” He sat his mug on the table and grabbed Roscoe’s muzzle, gently prying it open with his thumb.
“Heh, I didn’t know it actually fell out. ”
Roscoe pulled away and whistled through the empty cavity. “Wasn’t paying attention when I landed on the floor. I’ll look for it later and make a necklace for Cody.”
“Aww. A necklace made from a tooth Darryl violently fucked loose. How romantic,” I said, holding my hand up. “I’ll pass.”
“I’ll take it.” Darryl sat on the other side of the table and sipped his coffee. “It’ll be a good conversation starter.”
“Hey, uh, buddy,” Roscoe said, his ears pulled back. “We good now?”
Darryl said nothing. Instead, he smiled while stroking the soul patch below his thin, black lips.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.”
The larger werewolf placed his rough hand on my shoulder, pulling my attention from the ocean. “You look more stressed out than usual, and that’s saying something.”
“Ever heard of a town called Norwich?”
Darryl shook his head, but Roscoe’s face lit up.
“Norwich? Now that’s a damn pretty place. What about it?”
“Apparently, it’s the only halfway decent town where I can get housing. The problem is, it’s like five hours away.”
“So? What are you so afraid to leave behind? We ain’t got nothin’ here.”
Roscoe actually made a good point. The only reason I’d moved to the city was to start a career, but that was out the window.
“Have you ever been there?”
Roscoe shook his head. “Nah, but I had a few friends that really loved it. That town’s practically made for us. They got a healthy population of werewolves, and the humans are freaks. I’m talkin’ occult type shit.”
“You’re sure as hell not selling me on this place,” I said, typing the town’s name into my phone’s search engine.
“Think about it, Cody. It’s practically Halloween every day! There’s always something spooky goin’ on, and the town’s surrounded by woods people say is haunted. Plus, we ain’t gonna be the only werewolves. The humans’ll love us.”
“Yeah, I bet they do. We’ll be the most popular blood sacrifices to Satan next month. But that’s fine, because it’s cool and spooky.”
“Aw come on. It ain’t like that.” Roscoe let out a loud laugh, but after a couple seconds, his face went straight. “I don’t think it is, anyway.”
“Sounds like a place for witches. I’d take Satan over those any day,” Darryl said.
“Stop fucking with me, guys. I’m not stupid enough to believe this shit.”
Darryl raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m stupid?”
“No. I think you’re fucking with me.”
“You better listen to Darryl. He was big into that shit back in the day.”
I turned back to the larger werewolf, who gave a half grin. “Is he serious?”
“Nah, I just hung around with interesting people. And if I knew anyone that practiced that kind of magic, Roscoe’s dick would have shriveled up and fallen off years ago.”
“Oh hell naw,” Roscoe shouted, the fur on his neck sticking straight up. “You really had ’em do spells ‘n shit on me?”
“That was years ago, and last night, it looked like it was still all there.”
“That ain’t funny, man! You know about the rule of three, right?”
Darryl shrugged. “It’s not like I did the rituals. What happened to all that excitement from earlier, hmm?”
“This is different.” Roscoe looked down at his lap. “Now my dick hurts.”
“Oh please,” I said, shrugging off Roscoe’s abrupt superstitious behavior. “You were fine before Darryl said anything. It’s like voodoo. It only works if you really believe it does.”
“My dick was hurtin’ before.”
I pointed to the dried blood along his torso and thighs.
“You’re right. There’s no other explanation for that.
It must be witchcraft.” I continued scrolling through the internet search results.
The town was just as rustic as Roscoe made it seem.
The buildings and houses were old, and there was a lot of nature around the area.
“I hope this place has decent internet.”
“I hope they’ve got someone who gets rid of curses.”
“You’re fine, Roscoe. I didn’t have anything of yours to use in the ritual.” Darryl stood and calmly walked over to the door while Roscoe eyed him. “I just remembered something.” He ran inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
Roscoe leaped out of his chair and dashed inside after him. It was probably the fastest I’d ever seen him run. “I rescind my offer! You ain’t gettin’ my tooth!”
I leaned back and shook my head while reading through more information on the town.
The loud pounding of the floors and Roscoe yelling hysterically at Darryl lightened the mood a little bit.
Maybe they were going to be okay after all, but I was still uncertain about my future.
The last big move I’d made hadn’t turned out so well, but I’d been younger then, and alone.
This time I’d have someone to rely on—even if it was Roscoe.
His OnlyStans idea was actually pretty good, and despite my objections, it sounded like it could be fun if I hid my face. There was no way in hell I’d admit that to Roscoe.