"Hidden City - part one" by Sarah Johanesen

Hidden City

The Crimson Streets

 Rachel Hathway was just an ordinary teen, who lived in an ordinary flat, and who had ordinary troubles. Or that’s what she thought.

 It was late November and the nights were drawing in fast. The after-school fencing club hadn’t finished until just as the sun sank below the horizon. She was walking home, not far, only a few blocks.

 Tanya had been distant today, she was meant to be her best friend, but Rachel felt practically ignored all day. She was thinking if life would be better if Tanya just dumped Joseph’s ass. She’d probably save money on her mobile phone. Every bloody lesson she’d be texting him, then she’d turn to her for long enough to explain ‘Joseph this, Joseph that’, ‘Who cares!’ thought Rachel ‘It’s not as if he’s anything special’. So the fact she’d been the first to meet him, first to fancy him, had nothing to do with it… that’s what she kept telling herself.

 Rachel’s main concern was about subconsciously breaking up her best friend and the hottest guy of the moment. To say she’s an air-head wouldn’t be far from the truth, though you couldn’t call her a blonde bimbo, and she has more compassion than the cheerleaders at her school. She’d rather chuck popcorn at the cheerleaders than pick up their pompoms and prance around with them. She’d hoped that it was just a myth that every American high-school had bitchy cheerleaders, but no they just had to have some here.

 The streetlights flickered on as she crossed the road. It was strangely quiet. Only a few people. She’d only seen two cars. Saint Louisa was usually bustling around dinnertime. City centre workers flock to the Italian restaurants, moms flocking home from the Mall.

 Rachel felt the bite of the cold wind and huddled into her coat, returning back to her thoughts. Suddenly gunfire rang through the street of tall buildings.

 Her whole body straightened, her ears telling her eyes to look up from the pavement. Fear ran through every muscle. A small sound that should have been a scream, fell from her lips in a whimper, as she saw a man on the corner just ahead fall under the streetlights to the floor.

 Blood, and crimson coated… brains, had been hurled from the shattered skull onto the pavement.

 Eyes wide, Rachel searched for the murderer. Left, then right, and there on the opposite side of the road she walked on, on the opposite corner to the black and red heap lying on the ground, a man was putting his gun away in a shoulder holster. His dark hair dark coat and trousers almost hid him when he stepped into the shadows, but his pale olive skinned hands gave him away.

 She stood there not knowing what to do. The ringing had died down, the panic seeped away. She could hear screams of running people. Running. Should she run? Was that what she should be doing? She couldn’t, could she? Run home?

 That meant going near the heap of flesh.

 A deep growl ruffled her neck, she turned her head back to where she’d seen the murderer and saw black shapes moving, fighting in the dark. What looked like a huge dog pulled the man into the streetlight. Dog. She’d been wrong. Wolf.

 The man let out a cry as the wolf went for his stomach. Wolves? In the city? There wasn’t a zoo for miles. The thought calmed Rachel but confused her. She frowned. Unconcerned with the sound of ripping flesh, suddenly she cared less about what was happening than how, and why.

 Then a group of four men ran past her for the gnawing wolf letting out accented cries of “You’re dead you piece of ****” and “Get the **** off freak!” They wrestled the wolf off the man. Rachel caught a glimpse of silver knuckledusters and knives in the streetlight before she was pulled around, turned away from the unfolding scene.

 The hand that turned her, grabbed hers, pulling her back the way she’d came. Running.

 Rachel looked back and two more wolves, one snow-white, the other black as ash, attacked. The hand jerked her and she turned to glare at the face.

 But when she recognised Joseph she held her frown.

 They were almost at the school again, but they turned right at the next road until they stopped in front of the Trinity Community Church. Here the pale white stone gleamed more in the soft streetlights than the other ordinary buildings.

  “Oh my God!” she said breathlessly “Thank you.”

 “No problem Rachel. You ok? You’re pretty pale.”

 She looked at his beautiful pale green eyes and his strawberry blonde hair. His near-perfect face. She nodded, then she looked at him again. He wasn’t scared at all, she was chilled to the bone with shock, he watched her as if he was an old hand. As if it was normal to run from murder and snarling wolves. She frowned, fear, shock replaced by fierce curiosity. “What the hell is going on?”

 A look on his face between smugness and worry preluded his explanation, “Have you ever seen the gangs hanging around?”

 Rachel frowned harder. “What gangs? I’ve never seen any gangs.”

 “How could you not have seen them? They’ve been around here for like, forever!”

 Rachel shrugged. “Never noticed.”

 “Well I suppose you weren’t here when the last fights happened.”

 Rachel had only moved here a year ago. Since she’d been here Trinity City had been very quiet. Nothing more unordinary than graffiti and smashed windows. She never watched the local news…

 Joseph carried on. “You know ‘Saint’s Cars’?”

 Rachel nodded. “That car dealer right?”

 “Yer, well the guy who owns that place, er…” he hesitated looking behind Rachel.

 “What is it?”

 Joseph grabbed her hand and ran into the gleaming church. Closing the door he knelt down before the sight of the gilded altar, making the sign of the cross. He stood again taking Rachel to the seats in the chapel, and they sat down.  He began to continue when Rachel cut him off.

 “Woa there. Why are we in here?” she whispered so’s not to disturb the few worshipers preying quietly before Evening Song.

 “I’ll explain later. Can I continue now?”

 She waved him to continue.

 “So the guy who owns ‘Saint’s Cars’ is in charge of this gang of Italian-Americans. They consider Saint Louisa their home-turf right? Their territory.”

 Rachel nodded. She wanted to laugh, I mean it was so cliché, but Joseph seemed really serious.

 “Well things are getting really tense.”

 ‘Ok’, she thought to herself, ‘this is getting beyond the realms of weird’, but she’d just witnessed a murder, then huge wolves attacking people in a city and her first serious crush was explaining to her that it was gang warfare? She kinda kept expecting Joseph to say ‘I’m joking, your trashed and hallucinating.’

 “Some street gang from Arba Heights keeps elbowing in on their land, and they’ve decided that the only way to deter them is by force. The streets will be crimson before you know it.” He looked at her in the eye. “You’re just lucky I came along ‘cause they’ll kill you.”

 “What?” Rachel said in disbelief.

 “They’ll kill you as a practicality. You’re a witness.”

 “But it’s not my fault I was walking along the street.” She couldn’t believe this. It had to be a wind up. “Who paid you?”

 “Excuse me?”

 “You’re winding me up, well you almost had me. I almost bought into all this gang warfare ****. Who paid you to do it? Huh? Was it Crissy? That ***** has been trying to mess with me since I got here.”

 “I’m not winding you up.”

 “******* How do you explain the wolves then? I didn’t see a gang of men fighting I saw wolves.” Rachel was pissed off. She refused to be lead on by Joseph. He’d tried to set her up, well she wasn’t that stupid!

 He looked at her patiently. “You know on the Matrix Neo has to take the blue pill or the red pill?”

 “Yes, but what’s that got to do…”

 “Which would you take?”

 “Why?” asked Rachel, exasperated by this stupid question.

 “I’m giving you a choice. You can either believe me, and I’ll make sure you survive to see your next birthday, or you can tell me to go to hell and you can never run to me for help when your parents are terrorised into silence. Because I can assure you Rachel, what you have seen tonight is very, very real.”

 The look in his eyes was burning with anger but he wasn’t lying. Rachel was shocked into silence. Had he just said what she thought he’d said? Could he be telling her the truth? She just shook her head. It just couldn’t be.

 “Which pill would you take now?”

 “Red pill.”

 “You believe me?”

 She nodded.

 “Say it.”

 “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I believe you.”

 “Good. Go home. Tomorrow, come back here. Then I’ll tell you.”

 “When?”

 “Eleven am.”

 Rachel nodded and turned to get up and leave the church when Joseph spun her around to look at him.

 “Don’t tell anyone about anything.” He said, green eyes burning.

 Rachel left, returning to her new path home.

 Joseph wasn’t the same golden boy she’d known an hour ago. She began to wonder if it was the same person. When she turned back to see the church as it became farther away he was nowhere to be seen. One thing was for sure, after the way he’d just spoke to her, Tanya could have him. Tomorrow, Saturday, Joseph would just tell her. Tell her all of it. Part of her was excited, part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to take that leap into some serious weird ****. She just knew it’d be serious weird ****.

 The shock of the night filtered away as she walked until she was left to think. She saw death for the first time, and could have been dead herself. She’d survived, and she felt almost numb, lost. What did this change? Did it change anything at all?

 She didn’t feel any different.

Criminal Activities

The clock on the church gonged eleven. Rachel sat on a bench outside, freezing and trying to remember all that had happened last night. Which was harder than she thought it would be.

 Joseph suddenly sat beside her and she jumped when she caught him in the corner of her eye. He’d come the other way.

 “You want to know everything? You want to stay safe?”

 She nodded, suddenly far more wary of Joseph.

  “There’s been gangs in Trinity City since it was big enough to attract attention. Around 1950 different groups, different nationalities, cultures, families split into more obvious groups. Pretty much all of them are fanatic about keeping their turf there’s and keeping others out. Here in Saint Louisa Mr Saint moved in. He’s got big connections out of town and he pays better than anyone this side of the river.”

 Joseph was very matter-of-fact, he sounded older than the sixteen year old she’d known, as if he’d seen more of the world. He passed Rachel an old newspaper cutting dated 1999, there a clean shaven oldish man, shaped like a barrel with prominent Italian features, was pictured, the story’s headline read “Saint’s Lost Halo – Trinity’s biggest gangster caught for tax fraud”.

 “That’s him. Mr Saint. He didn’t get convicted, fined, but not convicted. He must have pulled some serious strings. My Dad works for him and on weekends I work for him too. We and our entire family are considered part of the gang. They protect us, they pay us, we work for them. It’s generally accepted that Saint turf is Saint Louisa and if you are anything other than a civie you pay the price for leaving your home-ground.”

 “What they murder them for walking on a public road like last night?” Rachel seethed. It stung her sense of freedom.

 Joseph turned angry eyes on her. “That was different.” He turned away. “Last night was the beginning of something bigger. I can smell it in the air. The I-Tees are a scruffy scrappy gang that would never have been a threat. Lead by a rap star or something, but they’ve all been infected with lycanthropy.”

 “Whaty whaty?”

 Joseph smiled and laughed slightly. “You know those wolves you saw.”

 She nodded.

 “They didn’t escape from the zoo. Ninety percent of the time they’re human.”

 “Were-wolves?”

 “Yep.”

 “Okay, you’re insane.” Rachel got up to leave.

 “1998, The Maxim Murder case, a couple of years before you got here, a man was found pulled apart by dog teeth and claws. Human footprints right up to the point where the body was ripped to shreds. He’d been murdered on the night before a full moon.”

 Rachel hadn’t got much further than two steps before she’d stopped. Now she turned on Joseph.

 He knew he had her. “Nothing human or dog could’ve done it. Besides Trinity doesn’t have a zoo.”

 Rachel sat back down. “Were-wolves are real?” she laughed. “No way.”

 “Would you rather I showed you?”

 She was still laughing. “No way.”

 “Rachel?”

 “You’re telling me were-wolves are real, next you’ll tell me my mum’s a witch!”

 “Rachel, I’ll show you. But first we’ve got to make sure Saint don’t go trying to persuade you into not testifying.”

 “What?!”

 “You can’t testify Rachel, he’ll kill you. And his idea of persuasion will involve many pints of blood – mostly yours.”

 Rachel looked down, then back to Joseph. She was in real danger, she could really get hurt. “What do I do?”

 “I’m taking you to meet one of his sons. He’ll make sure you don’t get hurt. Besides I’ve got to go to work, and you need to see a were-wolf before you get attacked.” He smiled.

 Rachel ignored the were-wolf comment, she still didn’t believe Joseph. But Joseph knew if she didn’t believe she’d die all too soon.

*    *    *

 They’d caught a bus, and Joseph led Rachel out at the Red Light District.

 “What the hell are you doing bringing me here.” Growled Rachel. She did not like this place. It wasn’t far from her area. Her pavements were frequented by the vomit and **** from overzealous boys night’s out. They were nearer the docks than her house though. Not much better. The smell of sea salt permeated this end of town.

 Joseph lead her round to the back door of one club which was on the riverside. He made three sharp knocks and Rachel watched the seagulls wearily. She hated seagulls.

 A big man, a bouncer, with short cut hair, yellow tinted skin and a dark suit on opened the door. When he saw Joseph his hard-ass face split into a yellow toothed grin… smoker. “Pedro! How you doin’ kid, did Saint send you here for the month?”

 Pedro was Joseph’s last name, Rachel wasn’t surprised that the tough-as-nails bodyguard would use last names, she just listened.

 “Kind of, I need to see Marcus, and I’m his errand boy for the month.”

 “You do good kid, glad to have you back.” His eyes flicked over Rachel. “Who’s your friend?”

 “Rachel needs help. She needs to come with me.”

 “She a civie?” he whispered.

 “Not for long.”

 “Welcome to ‘Wings’ Miss, Marcus is inside.”

 “Thanks Andre.” Joseph said as he walked passed the large man through the door he held open.

 “Thanks.” Said Rachel before entering, though truthfully she had no idea why she should say it.

 After the daylight the club was dark. She followed Joseph’s shadow until they reached the back of the stage area where the bright lights imitated the blocked out sun. Joseph walked down the side steps through the tables towards the bar. Purple tinted light made the bar seem to glow, the whole place was light. Light purple, light blue and silver, yet the place was still dark.

 She followed Joseph, who’d stopped by the bar and was talking with a honey brown haired man a little taller than Joseph. He was well dressed considering he was going about the meagre task of checking some new glasses he’d ordered. He wore a light blue shirt, glowing slightly purple from the bar. His top buttons were undone and his sleeves rolled up. A beige leather jacket lay on the bar. As she got nearer Rachel could see his blue grey eyes catching the purple light.

 They’d stopped talking and a teasing smile, one more used to laughter than cruelty, greeted her. He held out his hand to shake hers. His firm grip shook her hand as he spoke.

 “So Ms Hathway, you saw an execution.”

 “Yes” she said “if an execution is what you’d call it.”

 He eyed her curiously. “Joseph says you don’t believe him.”

 “Well do you expect me to believe in were-wolves. Come on, this is the real world.”

 “You’ll see Ms Hathway, you’ll see.” He turned to Joseph. “Can you finish this for me?”

 “Sure boss.”

 Marcus smiled grabbing his jacket. “You know it kid.” He walked up to Rachel. “Come with me.”

 “Woa, I don’t know you. Why should I come?”

 Marcus looked at her with that same curious look. “You’ve seen something you shouldn’t, if you don’t join us then you have to pay us. Trust me, you don’t want to pay.”

 “But why do we have to leave? Why do I have to leave with you?”

 “Joseph you’re clever, you know that?” he called back. When he looked at Rachel his eyes were deadly serious and slightly annoyed. “Look kid, I don’t have time to play twenty questions. You’re cautious, not a bad thing, but if you’d pulled that with anyone else they’d have just told you to **** off and pay the consequences, got it?”

 Rachel nodded.

 “I’m gonna help you. You have to trust me.”

 “Boy, what a leap of faith.” The voice made Rachel jump.

 Marcus turned to the main door to the club and Rachel could see past him. In the doorway stood a woman about the same height as Marcus, quite tall, though she was wearing heels. She was smiling, hands on hips with the attitude of a kitten. Half-playful, half-vicious, she had claws but she’d rather not use them. As she walked into the brighter light Rachel could see her hair was the same colour as Marcus’. She wore a simple v-neck purple top and jeans.

 “Did you come to scrounge money or tell me something?” came Marcus’ reply.

 “It was only a hundred dollars! Anyway, can’t a sister come see her brother?”

 “Not unless its business I’ve got work to do.”

 She pouted, mocking her brother, then she smiled. “I’ll just have to be annoying then.” She made a movement of her head towards Rachel. “Who’s this then?”

 “Miranda, meet Rachel.” Marcus turned. “Rachel, the most annoying sister in the universe.”

 Miranda shook Rachel’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

 “And you.”

 “Latest recruit?” she asked Marcus.

 He nodded.

 “Hmm. Don’t go too hard on her.”

 “Did you really just come here to be annoying?” he asked.

 “No, Dad’s having a little ‘get-together’” she made the air quotes, “on Monday. Paulo’s in hospital, two are dead, he’s pissed.”

 Marcus nodded. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t get pissed with witnesses.”

 Miranda looked to Rachel eyes slightly wide. “You a witness?”

 “Yep.”

 “If you testify your life will be a living hell.”

 “That’s why she won’t, will you Rachel?”

 “No. I don’t think I’d risk everything to testify.”

 Miranda frowned. “Even if it’s the right thing to do?”

 “I’m selfish, so sue me.” Rachel had meant every word.

 “I’m gonna get Rachel started.”

 “She’s going to work here!” she asked surprised.

 “No.” Marcus said condescendingly, “She’ll be working for us. If she doesn’t she’ll been in danger from the I-Tees and Dad.”

 “Well good luck kid. Hope you take well to criminal activities.” Then she left. Leaving Rachel confused. ‘Criminal activities? What did she mean?’

 Marcus took Rachel back stage.

 “I’ve got to see if someone will be in tonight. I’ve also got to show you something before I give you any jobs.”

 Rachel waited around while Marcus rang up people and argued a lot. Finally he turned his attention back to her. He’d put his jacket on now.

 “I’m going to take you to see someone you’ve already seen before.”

 Rachel threw a confused look his way. He laughed and then they left in his car to Saint Louisa.

Cage of Silver

 They pulled up in front of ‘Saint’s Cars’. Marcus hadn’t said a word and not made one move. Rachel let go of the breath she’d been holding, she was safe – for now. They went into the building and Marcus waved at a few of the sales-people before swiftly ushering Rachel into a big office.

 The room was a cold pale blue, the furniture all coordinated in light coloured woods, and a fern sat in the corner drooping. From behind the desk a man an inch shorter than Marcus came round. He had black hair, but it was more like a really dark brown. His cool grey eyes sparkled with intelligence. He wore a navy business suit, mauve tie and everything.

 “So this is Ms Hathway?” he asked, he’d been well educated, you could tell it in his manner and in his voice, he spoke concisely with hardly any accent at all compared to Marcus. Rachel’s Aunt Madge had spoken like that, she was the first to go to a big University.

 “Nice to see you too Don.” Marcus said sarcasm dripping from the words, going round to sit in the big swivel chair behind the desk.

 Don extended a hand to Rachel and they shook. “Nice to meet you Rachel.”

 “And you.”

 “Rachel here don’t believe us Don.”

 “About what?” he asked turning to face Marcus.

 “The were-wolves.”

 “Well come on it’s, ludicrous, insane.” Rachel added.

 Marcus shrugged in a way that managed to say ‘see what I mean’.

 “Rachel how old are you?” Don asked.

 “Just sixteen why?”

 “Marcus there is no way I’m…”

 “Can it Don. When you were her age you were hunting them down.”

 “But she is not part of this gang by default.” He seethed.

 “She has no choice Don. It’s this or die.”

 Don sighed in resignation. “Fine.”

 “That’s my bro’!” Marcus stood, a smile on his face, “You do what I asked you to and I shall go chat up that beautiful blonde you’ve hired. Did I ever tell you, you have great taste in women.”

 Don shook his head. “Must be in the genes.”

 Marcus left and Rachel felt like a toy being pushed around. She had no idea what was going on, all she knew was that her life was constantly, and casually being threatened, and these people were being way to nice about killing her. She still doubted the were-wolf part. I mean, there’s no way in hell she’d just go - ‘ooh, that makes sense, I’ll believe you’, no way. This had far more implications.

 She was being turned into a gang member, into an errand girl for crooks, but the more she saw, the less it seemed like a bad idea. That and she didn’t much like the alternative. Was she twisted to want to do it, to accept what they were forcing her to do, to like the idea? To be a criminal, a gangster?

*     *     *

 Don opened a door in the corner of the office Rachel hadn’t spotted. And no wonder, because it was a flat door without a door frame painted in the same colour as the walls. He led her through and she gingerly stepped into the pitch black room. When the door shut behind them and the darkness was complete Don threw on the switch and Rachel jumped. She blinked in the bright light. The room was white. White tiles on the floor and walls. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling of the square room little bigger than a janitor’s closet. There were no windows and there were huge silver bars to her left making a jail cell out of one half of the room.

 Huddled in the cell wrapped in a coarse grey blanket against one wall was a person. She lifted her blonde head to watch them settle in and she snarled at Don. Rachel could have sworn her eyes turned a different colour. She shook away the thought and watched the obviously seriously mentally ill person in front of her.

 Don whacked the bars with a pole which looked silver. “Cold, hard silver plating. Keeps the beasts well and truly trapped. Tara here could break the wall behind her but there’s silver bars behind that too.”

 “What you’re going to tell me she’s a genetic experiment gone wrong? Or is she a member of the X-Men?”

 “Don’t be sarcastic Ms Hathway, I’m telling you something which may save your life one day.” He looked at Rachel. “You’ve already met this creature.”

 She shook her head “No I haven’t. I’ve never seen her before in my life.” She saw the woman shivering on the cold tiles something in Rachel stirred, she realised she didn’t want to hurt anyone, she didn’t want to be an accessory to anything like this, it was wrong. “Why is she being kept here? She’s shivering, look at her!”

 “Ms Hathway that is none of your concern. Tara, shift and show this young woman what you truly are.”

 “Go eat worms *********!” she growled. Her voice unnaturally low.

 Rachel dismissed it, she must be hearing things.

 Don kneeled in front of the bars and Rachel could tell he was doing something but she couldn’t see. He rooted out a syringe with a serum, the woman’s eyes widened and she tried to get as far back inform him as was possible in her cramped cell but the space was too tight.

 “What are you doing?” asked Rachel, concerned for the woman. “Hey! You’ve scared the poor woman enough already, leave her alone.”

 “She’ll shift, and you can see her for the freak-show she is.”

 “Look she’s just alone and afraid, what have you been doing to her? Why?”

 Don grabbed Tara’s leg and struck it with the needle. “When you see, you’ll guess. This isn’t a human. It’s a monster.”

 Rachel was helpless, she doubted she could stop him, knew she couldn’t run and nothing she could say would change things. There was nothing to do but pick the courage to watch. She stood helpless, watching him inject her with the pale liquid.

 Tara threw her head back, screaming in pain, the scream turned into a deep growl, echoing loudly in the sound-proofed room. Something seemed to move under her skin like broken bones sticking out the skin. Her nose and mouth grew into a muzzle, her head flattened down to a deafening dog-like whimper, her ears moved, became pointed. Rachel noticed her whole body had changed shape under the blanket, Tara threw huge clawed hands in front of her grabbing for Don before they returned to support her. She stood on all fours perfectly balanced; her head had changed, almost unrecognisable. She looked at Rachel, and the wide-eyed girl could see Tara’s pain. The blanket fell to the floor and Rachel watched, shocked as Tara’s hair turned white and shortened, spreading, flowing, across the naked misshapen body.

 The beast stood before them. Her tail straight, she was not happy. It growled at Don, shaking slightly. The wolf creature collapsed.

 Rachel went up to the bars kneeling down to touch her, see if she was real. Don grabbed her hand before she put it through the bars.

 “Don’t. It’ll want fresh meat, it’s exhausted. It shouldn’t have changed at this time, what I mean is, it wasn’t its choice.” He chucked a leg of raw lamb into the cage, through a small hole at the top just big enough to fit a Chiwawa.

 The wolf’s eyes opened like a jolt at the smell of the raw meat right next to its head. It got up in a spurt of energy and tore it apart.

 “How did she become…?” Rachel shook her head, mouth open in amazement. “What did you do to her?”

 “I merely induced a change. To show you, this is no human being. It is an animal, a beast to be hunted, caged.”

 Rachel looked at Don angrily. She’d seen Tara’s pain. She didn’t feel the same way as he did. “She didn’t deserve this cruelty.”

 “Do you recognise her now? This was one of the wolves that gnawed two men to death, and injured my uncle.” His face was angry now, hurt. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you defend her now?” He wiped his fingers on a handkerchief from his pocket from the blood of the meat. Rachel recognised the white wolf she saw. “One of the best things about getting rid of the police around here and keeping these monsters a secret, is that we get to take the law into our own hands.”

 Rachel stood up her mind turning. “Where’s the other one?”

 Don looked at her. “He’s still out there. He may be killing anyone right now.” He added. “He may even be looking for you.”

 Rachel looked at him wide-eyed. “I don’t like what your gang did to that man on the street, but that other wolf is an animal. To be honest, if he’s that dangerous, you should put him down.”

 “You will.”

 “Me?” she searched his face for a joke. “Oh no, no way. I’m not going after one of them. I’ll be killed, I, no! No way!”

 Marcus walked in. “Keep it down kid.”

 “Please tell me he’s joking.”

 Marcus looked at her for a few seconds blankly. “This is the only way Rachel. You kill or be killed.”

 “Are you threatening me?”

 “If you haven’t realised the threat already I should of held you at gunpoint when we met. But I can see your potential kid. You keep stum, you ask for help, and you’ll do what you’re told.”

 “If this is your idea of protection it sucks.”

 “No Rachel. This is your initiation. You prove yourself, we keep you safe, you work in a nice safe place.” Marcus thought about it. “Maybe Dad’s gentlemen’s club?” he looked to Don.

 He nodded. “He always complains about the lack of service.”

 “You kill Ash Janos, you get a nice cosy job as a waitress. You don’t…” the treat hung in the air, “You in?”

 Rachel looked at the white wolf. Saw the intelligence behind the eyes. The wolf knew what was going on. Rachel pleaded with her to forgive her through her eyes. Rachel had grown attached to Tara, but if Ash was running free, and killing him was the only way to stay safe, Rachel would do it.

 “I’m in.”

First Blood Spilt

 She’d been left by Marcus in the care of a man they called Cassiel, who lived above a local gun-store, ‘Shot’, in a one bed-roomed flat which smelled of honeysuckle air freshener and underneath that, something else far worse. Marcus had nodded hello to the dark-haired, strong jawed, chocolate-eyed man, before leaving a wad of cash on the coffee table and leaving without another word.

 Cassiel happened to also be the name of the Archangel of death. Cassiel knew his trade well, Marcus had said before coming here, he would be her help but she had to make the kill.

 Cassiel equipped her with a gun for which she had no name and no care. She knew it was an automatic pistol, a hand gun, she’d played enough video games to know that much at least. She didn’t want to ask the unusually quiet man. He didn’t talk much, he’d instructed her on how to use the gun, and how to shoot to kill in the shooting range at the back of the shop with a direct and concise voice, he never spoke one unnecessary word.

 In silence they went back to his apartment and he made a delicious ready-meal lasagne for both of them. He never smiled; he never looked at her with any emotion. Rachel’s body went cold under his calculating stare. She went cold, because she knew Cassiel did not care who she was, what she was, where she came from. He only cared if she was help or hindrance, and even then, he didn’t care whether she lived or died after his mission was complete. You could see it in his cold brown eyes. He didn’t care if she’d survive, or if she’d become a raving loon. He didn’t indulge in conversation, there was nothing to say. It was kind of frightening to imagine that once he was somebody’s son, a laughing, crying child.

 He made sure she understood that she had to shoot so close and the target’s own home because he was a were-wolf, and if she misses he’ll act like an animal, heal like nothing human, and lash out with strength which is unreal. In short, he’d cause a scene and then regardless of the bribes there’d be no saving her from the law in the mob’s shock and the tabloid stories. He also made it graphically clear through photos of some were-wolf victims that she better shoot quick, shoot to kill, and shoot without fear.

 “A were-wolf can turn a human being into processed meat in little under sixty seconds.” He said as she turfed through the horrendous images which made her wince in the knowledge that these were real.

 He showed her the ammo. “High silver content. This will kill a were-wolf like a lead bullet in a human. They’re violently allergic to silver, the purer the worse the reaction. They’re expensive, don’t waste them or I’ll expect you to pay me back.”

 She didn’t want to have to do that.

 At one o’clock he drove them near Trinity Bridge, one of three suspension bridges connecting the city centre, an island, to the two sides of the river. They were in one of the main commercial sectors, Ashtown. It made Rachel smile. Ash lived in Ashtown. Now she had to kill Ash in Ashtown. That thought made her tight with fear and worry.

 The car stopped down a dead-end backstreet and they waited there. They waited and waited until half an hour or so later a tall man without an inch of fat in a dark blue hooded-jumper with buzz cut black hair, dark brown skin and shadowed full features walked passed them unlocking a small door, flanked by shop windows, to some above-store apartments.

 Cassiel watched him closely from the car, but once he’d gone in Cassiel waited a little longer. It was a full five minutes before Cassiel got out of the car, Rachel following hurriedly. As he locked up the car from the remote in his keys it began to spit with rain. It was quiet. This was a dead-end area of shops and apartments, a stone’s throw from the mall. It was a cold Saturday afternoon in November, no one wasted their time coming down here.

 Rachel looked to Cassiel, she had no idea what they were going to do now. She was so totally out of her depth, Marcus and Don’s threats dancing in her head. She started to convince herself, ‘It’s necessary, the guy’s dangerous, he needs to be stopped, he could want to kill you just as the Saints do, but the Saints will give you an out, he will kill you. He will kill you. You have to kill him first.’

 “I will get us in.” he said quietly looking down at her, “Keep your head down, there’s a camera inside the doorway. Don’t get your gun out until his door is shut. He knows who I am, so don’t let it slip that I am there.”

 “How do I get him to let me in?”

 “Tell him you saw what he did to those men, that you know what he is, and that you won’t tell anyone but you want to speak to his leader about his girlfriend.”

 Rachel frowned. “But I…”

 “The wolf Don showed you. She is their leader’s girlfriend. They’ll be looking for her.”

 Rachel nodded. Everything seemed perfectly planned, murder, planned to near extreme efficiency.

 The angel of death went to the door taking out a small odd shaped tool and picking the lock. The lock opened without so much as a click or a theatrical clunk, and keeping their heads down they entered a small hallway. She followed him up the stairs. When up there he looked up, she took it that there were no cameras, and followed suit. There were two apartments upstairs. Two doors. Cassiel pointed to 32B. Then he slinked back to the stairs.

 Rachel’s heart was racing. There was no escape, there was no way out, she was trapped, and she’d come too far. She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. She prayed she’d survive this. She never prayed, but this was one of those exceptions. She knocked on the non-descript door with its painted numbers. At each knock her nervousness dissipated, Rachel paid no attention but this was quite remarkable. She usually became jittered, unfocused and confused under stress; her German oral exams were proof. But with each second that passed she felt her mind focus desperately on every moment, she needed it, to survive, to do it, to get through to the other side wherever that may be.

 It was like flying on auto-pilot, and when Ash Janos opened his front door giving a gruff bass “What do you want?” the lies and half-truths flowed without restraint and without thought.

 “Mr Janos?”

 “Yeah?”

 “I need to talk to you for a moment.”

 “Are you the police or something?” he laughed.

 “No. But if I was you’d be in serious ****.”

 He stopped his mockery, light fleeing from his face. “That a threat little woman?”

 “Can I speak to you inside?”

 “Hell no, come on man, what you playin’?”

 “Hey, I don’t want to have to tell the police who gnawed two men to death but I will if you don’t listen to me.”

 “Keep it down squirt or I’ll shred you.” He said through clenched barred teeth.

 “Let me in.”

 “What do you want?”

 “I want to see someone, and I have information.”

 “Yeah, like what? How many times a plane could fly around the moon?”

 “How’s Tara Mr Janos? Is she well?”

 He stopped speechless.

 “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know where she is. Hum. But I do.”

 “Come in.”

 “Much better.” She muttered.

 Rachel stepped through into his living room. It smelled of mouldy take-aways and beer. Gross. The couch was a dark brown, chocolate colour with beige pillows, The TV stood tall amongst the mess.

 Ash stepped into the middle of the room. “How do you know about Tara?”

 “I saw you last night attacking the Saints, I know what the both of you are and I want to see your leader.”

 “Why?”

 “That’s a matter for him, but I’ll only tell him where his honey-bun is.”

 “How do we know you’re not playing us?”

 “I have a picture.”

 “How?”

 “I’m a witness, the Saints sent it to me with a threat, they said if I testified they’d kill this hostage and I’d be next.”

 “How did you know who it was?”

 Rachel smiled, and it wasn’t Rachel. Her smile was tricky and almost evil. “You know I won’t be telling you that.”

 “Let me see it then.” He said dubiously.

 She reached inside her coat as if to pluck a photo from an inside pocket. She pulled her gun out of its holster, and it seemed as if she had all the time in the world. Taking it out, taking aim, taking the shot. There was nothing in those few seconds but the nothingness in her mind, all her voices were gone, silenced by her sharp eyes and quick hand. In the heart, one silver bullet, bang.

 The sound ricocheted along the walls of the small room. Deafening. Then sound came back in swooping stages, along with Rachel’s thoughts. Her eyes widened as she saw what she’d done, her hands, she’d done one of the things she swore she’d never do. But there it was. Ash’s mouth spilt blood, his eyes were red, and as she began to hear again she could here the howl of pain which accompanied the open mouth and elongated teeth.

 He didn’t fall down dead straight away. She wondered if she’d missed, he lunged for her and near panic-stricken she jumped to the side, putting his couch between them. He fell on the couch in pain. She could hear a hissing sound, smell a metallic scent accompany the smell of burning flesh. The bullet was burning a hole in his heart as it tried desperately to repair itself. When he lunged and missed he fell onto the couch his back to Rachel. She could see the huge exit wound of the bullet and it was worse than in the movies, far worse than she’d ever read about.

 She couldn’t bear listening to him die, it was taking longer than it should have because she’d only bitten into the side of his heart. She took up shooting position once again, wishing she’d never gotten into this, hating him for attacking, for making her a witness. Tears began to fall.

 “Why did you have to do this to me?” she groaned, asking everyone and no-one.

 She took aim for a head shot. He was beyond sense, almost dead, but she could bear it no longer. She watched, and wished she hadn’t, as his skull shattered inwards and she couldn’t hear again. He stopped twitching. She put her back to the wall behind her, breathing heavy breaths, the smell of it everywhere, his blood pouring down the chair to the floor. The wall behind where he’d stood dripping from the first blood spilt.

 The door clanged shut and Rachel realised she could hear again. She suddenly realised that might be one of his friends. She got the gun in front of her so she was ready for anyone.

 Cassiel stood in the doorway. “Two. Not bad.”

 Rachel just looked at him, her eyes hollow, wet tears drying.

 “I’ll take you back home, remember not to speak a word of it. We’ll cover it all up, if anyone’s implemented it will be me. One of us will call for you sometime. Show up, or else this will be for nothing.”

 Rachel listened, but did not listen. She kept wishing she’d wake up, even as she trawled down the stairs keeping her head down until they sat in the car. Cassiel took her gun and put it in the glove compartment, he drove her home and the spitting rain got worse turning to a torrential downpour.

 She sat there, watching the rain drizzle down the windshield, listening to the hollow, deep rumble of thunder spread through the city. This was the end of it, who she thought she was. The world seemed to change, the light seemed darker, the sounds seemed so fragile, everything, so fragile. Ready to break at any moment.

 She sat there, watching the blood pour again down the wall, listening to the deafening silence after the gun’s thunderous shot. Filling with the emptiness, loosing herself in memory. The world was fragile glass, and she, she could break at any moment couldn’t she? Then it would all be over. She would pay, and then she would have only her own blood on her hands.