Chapter 35 #2
“That’s why you’re out here with me, kid. You may not be mine, but we’re a lot alike.”
The woods around me went dark, the light of the moon overhead illuminating a slightly older Austin sitting alone on his boulder, looking out into the woods as if waiting.
Night soon turned to day, and the half-turn lay on the ground, staring at the sky, not moving as the light faded again.
Three days passed, and Austin finally started to cry.
It was the first time I’d seen him cry in this vision.
“He’s gone,” he whispered as if he had been expecting this day to come. Sluggishly, he pushed himself from the rocky ground and made his way east, toward the orange light of dawn blanketing the cold valley. I stood there, confused as I looked around for the other werewolf. What had happened?
Familiar cackling overhead and smoke from a chimney filled the air that sent an all-too-familiar chill racing through me.
Even in the remote wilds of this beautiful place, the witches hunted their prey.
Austin made his way through the forest, keeping as quiet as he could, but it didn’t make a difference.
Malformed, shadowy ravens with red eyes flew from branch-to-branch, almost hungrily watching as the half-turn ran through fetishes of teeth, bone and feathers dangling from bare aspen branches.
The scene soon turned to a familiar beach, and the ravens turned to screeching gulls overhead as the frothy ocean lapped against the sand.
Austin sat on a dune as the sun dipped halfway below the horizon, its distorted reflection zigzagging along the water’s surface.
In the distance, a werewolf on a surfboard rode the waves with perfect balance and grace.
I smiled when I realized it was Darryl. Sometimes I really missed this place.
The half-turn was covered in thicker body hair, and a small tail jutted from his lower back between the cleft of his ass.
I remembered how uncomfortable that thing was.
It had been too short to push off to the side when I’d sit, and too long and stiff to not accidentally bend it the wrong way if I wasn’t paying attention.
Darryl hopped off the board, sinking waist-high into the rough waters before tucking the surfboard under his arm. He sloshed his way onto the beach, then sat next to Austin.
“You feeling okay?” Darryl asked, eyeing the older half-turn. “Need some extra attention?”
Austin shook his head.
“I’m getting a little worried. You’re obviously in pain, but you keep holding back. The only way you’re going to get over this phase faster is by letting me help you.”
“I don’t need help. A little pain never killed anyone.”
“No, but it could kill other people,” Darryl said. “It’s dangerous for a half-turn to go this long.”
“It’s only dangerous if you’re weak.”
The werewolf sighed and turned to the ocean. “It’s not a weakness to depend on others once in a while. At least sleep in the house.”
“I don’t like sleeping inside.”
“Is there anything you like?”
Austin looked up at Darryl, his brows furrowed. “No.”
Without another word, Darryl stood up and brushed the sand from his fur before walking over to his house.
His deck was only partially finished with stacks of wood lining the parameter of his property.
Austin watched on curiously as the werewolf flipped on a floodlight and set to work measuring and sawing.
The half-turn slowly made his way over as Darryl hammered a couple nails into the board, securing it to the deck frame.
“Did you build this house?” Austin asked.
“Kind of. I had some contractor friends help me out.” Darryl smiled and handed the hammer to Austin. “Want to help me?”
Austin gripped the heavy tool tightly, pounding a half-driven nail into the deck so hard the head sank into the board with a crack.
“Too hard,” Darryl said, his tone a lot more patient than I would have expected after Austin ruined the plank he’d just measured and cut.
The werewolf rocked the loosened wood back and forth before pulling it loose from the foundation and tossing it to the side.
“I’ll save that piece for something else.
” He grabbed another board and handed Austin the measuring tape.
“I want this cut to six feet. Measure it and then mark it. After that, use the saw and put that strength to good use.”
The half-turned nodded and did as Darryl told him, seeming to enjoy the process. He measured, marked, and then began cutting. For using a handsaw, he cut the edge surprisingly straight.
“Damn, kid. That’s some good work.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a kid.”
“You’re a kid compared to me.” Darryl grabbed the plank and began hammering it to the frame. “Cut six more pieces, the same length and we’ll call it a night.”
They faded as the darkness gave way to mid-day.
Darryl was sitting on his lifeguard chair, watching over a crowd of swimmers while Austin hammered away, adding a railing and steps to the deck.
I hadn’t known Austin was the one that built this, and he seemed content doing it, losing himself to the sounds of construction.
Day soon turned to evening, and Austin had disappeared, but the deck was finished. Darryl approached, climbing the sturdy steps while holding onto the railing.
“Damn,” he whispered to himself, cautiously padding across the newly built structure, feeling for any loose planks.
He turned, looking out toward the ocean to see Austin lying near the water, partially obscured by one of the white sand dunes the beach was famous for.
“The kid’s a little rough, but I think he’ll be okay. ”
“Attention, mongrel squad!”
The sudden shift in scene made me jump, as Austin, now a full werewolf, stood rigid next to three other werewolves in a line as a human man in camouflage slowly paced in front of them. Despite the insult, the mood seemed unusually upbeat.
“Because of your excellent latrine-cleaning, you’ve all been officially promoted to…” The man paused, folding his arms. “Grout.” He pulled out four toothbrushes and slipped each into their pants pockets. “Make the country proud boys. Dismissed!”
The werewolves scampered out of the barracks, leaving a line of humans behind still at attention.
“The rest of you, hit the course!”
“Yes sir,” they all shouted in unison, filing out behind the werewolves. I phased through the soldiers, easily catching up to the others as they bantered, but Austin remained quiet, trailing them at a short distance.
“I think sergeant has the hots for you, Steve,” a shorter, brown werewolf said, jiggling the toothbrush in the light gray werewolf’s pocket. “Did you feel how slowly he slid it in?”
“I’m actually fucking him, but don’t tell anyone or we’ll be court-martialed.”
Austin quickly caught up, his ears pulled back and his eyes wide. “Are you dumb? That’s, like, six rules broken!”
The others howled with laughter, and the larger werewolf recoiled, falling behind the others again.
“I wonder what they’re gonna make us do next,” the brown werewolf said. “You remember last week when they had us prepare dinner after cleaning the toilets?”
“Sergeant was extra spicy that day,” Steve replied.
“I didn’t wash my hands, and I fondled all the Hawaiian rolls.”
The black and silver werewolf gagged, wrinkling his nose. He was about as tall as Austin, but a lot lankier.
“You fucking—” He gagged again. “I ate six of those, you piece of shit! I wondered why they were all squished.”
“Oh, come on, Randall. You’ve eaten worse things in survival training,” the brown werewolf replied. “Besides, we were the only ones that didn’t get sick. Everyone was puking and shitting everywhere. What a fun night. I bet they won’t let us touch any more food after that.”
“This is why they hate us, you know?” Austin pulled open the door to the communal showers. “And why we’re stuck scrubbing grout with toothbrushes instead of training.”
“We were scrubbing shit with toothbrushes before you got here,” the black werewolf said with a defeated sigh.
“I keep thinking they’re saving us for something fun like tactical warfare, but it’s like they don’t have any use for us.
We’re twenty soldiers in one, and they treat us like we’re army pets. ”
“That’s kinda weird,” Steve said. He reminded me of a leaner and better-spoken version of Roscoe. “I didn’t even think they’d accept me because I didn’t have my GED. Who knows. Maybe they’re saving us for some super-secret mission. Did you hear about the werewolf sect of al Qaeda.”
“Wait, terrorist groups have werewolves?” Austin asked, his eyes widening.
“Yeah. They’re called al-Betas.”
Three of them snorted laughter, but Austin rolled his eyes and groaned.
“That was a good one.” Randall got down on his knees and began scrubbing furiously. “They probably do have werewolves, though. Someone like Austin wouldn’t hesitate to reach into their asses and pull out their colons. He’s the biggest motherfucker I’ve ever seen.”
“When I was a half-turn, I knew a guy just as big. He was a lifeguard,” Austin said, joining the others on the tiled floor.
“A werewolf lifeguard?” the brown werewolf said with a chuckle. “How the hell did he manage that?”
“Never asked. I thought werewolves just had normal jobs like that. What did you do before you ended up here, Blake?”
“Probably the same thing we all did,” the black werewolf grumbled. “The only reason I signed up for this shit was because I’d actually get paid a real salary so I wouldn’t have to sleep on the sidewalk.”
“Me too,” Steve said.
“Same,” Randall added.
“I just want to get stronger,” Austin muttered, looking at his toothbrush. “This is a stupid waste of time.”
Blake dipped his toothbrush in a small bowl of soapy water and continued scrubbing. “You’re already huge. How much stronger do you want to get?”