Werewolfing. 8

Chapter Eight

Seb stared from the stranger - Elliot?? - to the shopkeeper, and back again. Elliot backed away, shaking his head, until he bumped up against the shutters.

“Werewolves sell for a lot… Werewolves live in communities… Werewolves are unholy…” Seb watched the man mutter to himself, feeling his hackles stand up like someone was running an electric current through him. A growl burst from his throat. His lips ripped up into a snarl.

The harsh wolf-rasps made the man smile in a way that made Seb’s spine go cold.

“Let us go!” Tanvi demanded, folding her arms. She let her backpack fall to the ground, having probably realised asking to be freed was fruitless, and she adopted a more defensive position.

“Not yet, she-wolf,” the man said, pulling what looked like various glinting tubes from the cash register.

“Seb,” Tanvi whispered urgently, “that’s a microchipper. I watched Cody get microchipped… That’s, that's what they used on her…”

The man picked up a long, thin gun and brandished it alongside the microchipper and a chunky weapon that resembled a machine-gun. Seb had seen that kind of gun a nature documentary a long time ago. Something cold and afraid recoiled in his gut as he recognised the tranquilizer gun, and what would happen if he was shot with it.

Seb gave one coarse warning bark, raising his tail like a flag raised for battle. He surged forwards into a run, claws scrabbling for purchase on the polished floors as he zig-zagged to throw off any darts. The man’s hand closed on the doorknob as Seb pushed up and sailed through the air.

He flung his paws out, opening his jaws for a bite. This was it. He could feel wolf surging through his blood. He could smell grain and bleach, as well as old, male, alcohol, and clean. He tucked his hind legs up to clear the jump, waving his tail out to the side to balance. Everything - the man, the gun turning - was moving in slow motion - this was it!

His back half slammed into the corner of the countertop, sending Seb sprawling into the wall with a dull, bone-breaking thud. He heard Tanvi’s sharp intake of breath, along with her footsteps coming forwards. He looked up - the shopkeeper was just a stride away, and aiming at Tanvi.

Seb made a final push, inching his jaws closer to the man’s leg before he bit down as hard as his jaws would let him. The taste of foul, metallic blood drowned his tongue for a moment before the hunter flailed out and bought the butt of the tranquilizer striking down on Seb's skull at the same as he shoved a knife toward Tanvi and opened the door behind the till.

An alabaster-coated pitbull tumbled out of the room, thundering around the man’s bleeding legs and toward Seb. Its mouth opened, showing off its yellowing teeth, lined up like daggers. Oh no, oh no, no, no no!

Seb was too dizzy to move in time. He howled as the pitbull bit down hard on the mane of fur around his neck. It didn’t let go. The hunter threw Tanvi onto the floor, onto his tail, and kept her in place by holding the tranquilizer to her head before he found a more substantial handgun to subdue her with.

The hunter pointed the blockier weapon - was it a gun? A big baton meant to knock victims unconscious? Seb dreaded the answer - at Seb and whistled. As soon as the pitbull had let go, the hunter pulled the trigger and Seb shut his eyes.

A weighted net fell over him, trapping him instantly. When Tanvi moved to help untangle him, the handgun went off and scraped her thigh. Startlingly red blood wept from the gash in her uniform, the stench of it staining Seb's nose and mind with terror. She stayed absolutely still as the pitbull watched her and the man crouched down and started to check Seb over, pulling back his lips and checking in his eyes like a rough vet.

He reached behind him for the microchip machine, pinching a bit of the fur around Seb's shoulderblades to get ready to inject it. Seb jerked away uselessly, earning a painful jab to the nose. This is bad, so, so very bad... He waited for the pain, peeking out of the corner of an eye.

Behind the hunter, Elliot seemed to have found his confidence again. Come on, come on! Seb watched, hopelessness twisting in his stomach. Seconds passed like minutes as Elliot crept over. The pitbull growled, turning away from Tanvi for a moment.

It had made a mistake.

Her hand snapped out, around its neck, as Elliot pounced and knocked the hunter away. Another kick send the syringe spinning across the floor. One more left the hunter clutching his wrist. Elliot untangled Seb with shaking hands, messing up once or twice and having to redo his progress. As soon as the net was off of his back, Seb wriggled out.

He held the squirming pitbull down, watching the chaos unfold. His hopes came tumbling down again, replaced by that awful feeling of impending doom, as the man reached for the tranquilizer, aimed, and pulled the trigger. There wasn't even time for a warning bark.

Elliot cried out and fell forwards, working out what had happened and ripping the dart out as if it were nothing but a bee sting. Tanvi had grabbed the remote control to the door and shutters, and had thrown it to Seb, before she went back for round two against the hunter. Seb and Elliot fumbled with the remote as they tried to keep the pitbull occupied.

Tanvi grappled with the man, who'd come to resemble a furious, hulking bear. They tussled for a while longer - long enough for Elliot to punch the right buttons - and stepped away once she'd kneed him in the groin and kicked the weapons away as best she could.

“Seb. I-I-I…” her voice shook as much as her body did. Blood still wept from her leg. She looked like she was about to cry. “I’m going to pretend you’re my dog - no, no, don’t look at me like that, not now, please. It’s all we’ve got…”

Seb nodded, getting to his feet. They were weak, as if they were made from kindling. C’mon. Tanvi set to work fashioning a collar and lead out of Seb’s discarded uniform, keeping an eye on the man as they went. It took less than half a minute to complete, before they were running out of the door like deer from a forest fire.

She dragged Elliot behind her like he was a ragdoll, groggy from the little of the drug that he got from the dart, sprinting forwards and taking the closest sidestreet. They vaulted over the wall and ran flat-out by the canal, earning judging glares from the people they pushed aside. They averted their gaze once they saw Seb loping alongside.

All three of them fell to the ground panting when they got to the abandoned factories. Seb lay on his side, flanks rising and falling and tongue lolling out over his lips. Tanvi haunched over, breathing heavy and on the verge of vomiting. Elliot curled against the side of the factory, his breathing erratic and almost not-there.

Sebs eyes rolled in his skull, gazing unseeingly at the sky. Everything was so quiet. He wished the concrete would liquefy and drown him right then and there. Drowning in concrete seemed better than being hunted down by a deranged man with a pitbull.

Tanvi recovered first. Seb took a little longer. He sat up and inhaled deeply, stomach turning slightly at the scent of the snare, covered in his blood and little flecks of his flesh, that lay on the other side of the factory yard.

Elliot still hadn’t recovered. Seb’s ear twitched and his head followed it around to see him still breathing badly, knees drawn up to his chest, and arms wrapped around his legs. He was trembling like a badly-build house in an earthquake.

Seb made an uff to get Tanvi’s attention, and motioned to Elliot. She followed him over and crouched down beside him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Seb sat down next to Elliot, brushing against his sides to reassure him.

“Hey, Elliot,” Tanvi said softly, “it’s okay now, you’re safe. It’s all fine now.”

Seb watched her pull Elliot away from the panic attack. That was another thing he loved about her - she could go from teasing to protective and caring in a second. A long time ago, she’d helped Seb adjust to urban life as a werewolf.

Elliot calmed down a little, unfolding his limbs into a more comfortable position. He looked at Tanvi, and then Seb.

“Elliot, how do you know that man?”

He looked up at the sky, and then around the yard. No response.

Tanvi shook his shoulders, and then let go of him abruptly, guiltily. “Why do you ignore us? We’re trying to help!”

Elliot dropped his gaze to his lap. He was still shivering. “I can’t hear.”

But it didn’t sound like that. It was a mess of noises that took a little bit of deciphering. His voice was gravelly and unused and didn’t sound right coming from him.

“Oh.”

“It’s fine. That man is a werewolf hunter.” Elliot spoke slowly, annunciating better, “he microchipped me to get me to… word… find! To get me to find other werewolves for him to sell.”

Seb whined.

Tanvi continued, “so he’s here to kill us?”

“You’re lucky if he kills you.”