RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.
Black Mountains, South-East Wales - 3.30 p.m., March 7, 2008
SOPHIE Thorn, fifteen and not knowing if she wanted to live or die, watched the creature tear up the mountain towards her.
She squinted, trying to make out the animal and see what it was.
The gloom crawling across the mountains made it difficult to see. The monster had white-gold fur. It looked like a horse to start with. Then it looked like a bear. Then a very large dog.And then it looked like what it was.
And Sophie knew she should've started running a while ago.
Drizzle made the grass slippery. It was difficult to run in wellington boots. Lactic acid quickly filled her thighs, and they grew tired.
The slope seemed to stretch, to angle upwards. Her lungs burned, and she could feel the tobacco swirling about in her chest, choking her of air.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Bad mistake. Her belly turned icy. The creature was forty yards away. She saw its long teeth and her mind scattered and she started babbling.
She was going to die.Death didn't scare her, but the way of it did.
This would be painful.Fear tightened her chest. She panted for air. She was almost at the top of the slope. Gasped with relief when she reached the crest.
Her legs felt like paper. She kept running, but she was swerving from side to side. Downhill made it harder to keep her balance. She was crying, and the tears blurred her vision. She yelled out for her home, for her dad.
Her dad, who'd already saved her life four months previously.
Her mind filled with what had happened. The betrayal hurt the most. She'd been in love. Knowing she wasn't loved back damaged her more than anything the men did to her after they bundled her into the van.
She looked over her shoulder.
Twilight brushed the ridge.
She gasped with relief.
The creature wasn't coming.
Had it been real? Had it been conjured by her broken mind?
Sophie started to slow and looked behind her to make sure the monster wasn't coming. Sweat coated her skin. Her clothes were stuck to her body. She wanted to stop. To collapse in the damp grass and gasp for breath. Her chest was so tight, and if she didn't stop soon, she'd drown; she was sure of it.
She tripped and lunged forward. She reached out her hand, and it slammed into the ground. Pain jolted her shoulder. She yelped, did a forward roll, skidded on her backside. Her foot plugged a divot. Her body carried on going, and she screamed when her ankle twisted. She gritted her teeth, tried to get up. Her ankle buckled, and the pain made pins and needles explode in her head, and she cried out.
She threw a glance towards the ridge.
Nothing. Just the darkening sky.
The werewolf had been in her mind.
She sat in the wet grass for a moment to catch her breath and listen to her heart.
It sounded like it was grunting in her chest.
Grunting?
She furrowed her brow.
Strange noise, she thought.
She narrowed her eyes, listened. Her heart grunted and beat at the same time.
The back of her neck grew cold. The grunts lost time with the beats. Sophie shivered and whimpered.
She turned her head, knowing what she'd see.
The white-gold werewolf appeared on the crest of the hill. The creature hunched down and glared at her. The blonde fur bristled. The animal's rhythmic grunts became louder, building into a roar.
Sophie shrieked till her throat charred.
And the werewolf hurtled towards her.
CHAPTER 2.
MY YARD.
RASHAD Drewitt named himself "Shed" after he'd killed a man for the first time when he was twelve.
"I have shed my old skin, my childhood skin, and today I am a man - I am Shed," he said.
That skin had stretched over the years to become full and heavy, and now it leaned into Porous's face and said, "This is my yard. Any bitch coming into my yard should bring a bone with which to appease me. I see no bone from you, bitch."
Shed's breath reeked of cigars and garlic. Porous screwed up his face. The odour made him sick.
He couldn't go anywhere. Shed towered over him and the other thugs horseshoed them in the alley. Moonlight showed the thugs' faces, creased with hate. Porous's guts squirmed with fear.
He said, "I tell you, Shed, I had appeasement for you, but I got mugged."
Shed scowled. "Mugged? Who mugged you? You tell me who mugged you, I'll have them castrated. You go ahead and say, Porous."
"Shed, I don't know who it was mugged me. It was dark, man. He was Asian, I guess."
"Asian, huh. I send my sniffer dogs out, they bring me back a suspicious-looking Asian, you have a look at him. Yeah?"
Porous shrugged, thinking his plan wasn't working that well but going with it. "I guess," he said.
Shed shoved him against the wall. Porous's head cracked the brickwork. Stars burst in front of his eyes. His legs gave out, but Shed held him up by the collar.
"You know why we call you 'Porous', Porous?" said Shed.
He shook his head. Shed's fingers pressed into his throat. Choking him. He gargled, trying to say no, he didn't know why they called him Porous.
"Because" - Shed gave him a shake - "you're so full of holes, Porous. Everything you say. Full of holes. Bullshit. That's why no one trusts you. But I, I gave you an opportunity. I have, you see, the milk of human kindness coursing through my veins."
"I - I appreciate - appreciate what you did, Shed. I - I was - coming to pay homage."
"Homage my ass. I'm six-four, three hundred pounds of bullshit radar, Porous. You're so full of holes, the shit is leaking out of you, boy. Now you know you're unwelcome in these parts. You know that pain of death is the pain upon which you return. So why you back? And this time, give me some truth."
Shed let him go and Porous gasped. He sucked in air, and his throat hurt. He made a face.
Shed said, "Throat hurts?"
"Yeah, man."
Shed drew out a .44 from inside his long, leather coat. Porous grew cold. He threw his hands up and pressed himself against the brick wall.
Shed said, "Want me to blow a hole in it, let the pain out?"
"That's - that's OK, Rashad. I'll - I'll be cool."
"Good." Shed tucked the .44 in his belt. The gun moulded into his massive belly. He said, "Share with me your reasons for being here."
Porous's throat was dry. He coughed, clearing away the nerves. "I - I got family, Shed. You know - my girl. The kids."
"The kids? You ain't got offspring, Porous. You ain't got a girlfriend or a boyfriend, neither. You're one of God's creatures that breeds with itself. Parthenogenesis, I believe they call it. Means you fuck yourself, Porous."
Shed laughed, and his pack laughed. Porous scanned their faces. The laughter didn't come from their eyes. Those were cold and dark.
They were all big guys. He didn't stand a chance. Porous was no tough man, anyway. He was small fry. A runner who ferried dope from street corner to street corner. That was until he got greedy and pocketed the goods.
Rashad Drewitt's goods.
"Your ass is exiled forthwith, you fucking blowjob," Shed had told him two months previously, casting Porous out from the comfort of his Brooklyn square mile. "I see your ass here, I slice it off. Cheek by cheek. And then I gonna make you eat them, Porous. Is that clear as day to you?"
Porous had no choice at the time but to say that it was as clear as day.
Shed's thugs had tossed him in the trunk of a car, and for a long time he thought exile meant a bullet in the back of the head.
But they dropped him off - turned out to be somewhere in Queens - gave him a beating and left him there, bleeding and thanking Christ he was alive.
He'd come home two days later. Slept rough and ate from trashcans. He had nowhere else to go. This was where he'd always been.
"I know it's hard when a lower mammal is taken out of its habitat," said Shed now. "I know the urge is to return. Come back to what it knows. You watch National Geographic, Porous?"
"Ain't got a TV, Shed."
"Shame. Well, you can learn a lot about life and how life came to be from slime like you and how slime became - I guess, me - while other slime just stayed" - he flicked a hand at Porous - "slime. So what I'm saying is, I tell you you're exiled, that's what I mean. It's not a metaphor, Porous."
Porous made a face. Shed's talking scared him. The man was dangerous and clever. Porous had no words to match the ones Shed gave him, so he opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
A clanking sound came from the trash tub down the alley.
Shed said, "What the hell was that? Go take a look, Snow."
Snow, hair bleached-blond, swaggered down into the alley. Porous narrowed his eyes, trying to watch Snow back there in the darkness. Snow stood on tiptoe now and looked into the trash tub. He flinched and flapped a hand in front of his face.
"Stinks, man," he said.
"That's you, Snow," said Shed and he laughed, and then his guys laughed.
"Nothing in here, boss."
"Nothing?" said Shed.
"Garbage, is all."
Shed seemed to lose interest. He turned back to Porous, and Porous again felt the weight of attention fall on his shoulders. He cowered, trying to make himself look small.
"Garbage, huh," said Shed.
Porous's legs grew weak. He felt his bladder swell. He said, "Oh, man - I'll - Shed, man - I'll get lost - go back to - shit, man - please don't - "
"If you lot don't fuck off, I'm coming down there, and you don't want me to come down there, I promise you."
Porous stopped jabbering. Shed's brow furrowed. He turned and looked up. Standing on the fire escape, three storeys up, was a woman. Looked blonde to Porous. Shoulder-length hair. Nice shape to her. But he couldn't appreciate it properly at this distance, in this light.
"What you say to me, bitch?" Shed asked the woman.
Porous's nerves twinged. He wanted to run. He scanned the alley. Shed and his pack glared up at the woman. He could dart past them. Be away before they reacted.
"I'm sorry," said the woman, not sounding to Porous like she was at all, "I didn't realize the fat around your waist had filled your ears and made you deaf."
Porous gasped. He got gooseflesh. He'd never heard anyone speak to Rashad Drewitt like that. He'd known Shed since they were both fifteen - that was twenty years ago. Shed had always been top dog around here, man and boy.
But the woman didn't know this. She didn't have a New York accent. What was it? She said, "I told you to fuck off. People are trying to sleep. Did you hear me?"
"Who the fuck you talking to, English bitch?"
That was it - English.
He liked the English. James Bond.
The woman said, "What kind of question is that? I don't know who I'm talking to, other than a noisy, fat twat who should be at home with his mother."
"Don't you say nothing about my mother, bitch." Shed's voice was high-pitched. Porous had rarely heard Shed's voice getting high-pitched. Once or twice, maybe, when he was really stressed, really pissed. But usually Shed was cool and cruel. His large frame heaved. Then he seemed to cool down. His voice grew calmer. "You get your white titties back indoors, and we forget about this indiscretion."
Porous swallowed.
The woman leaned her forearms on the rail.
Porous thought, Go indoors, lady.
But the lady wasn't moving.
Shed rubbed the back of his neck. He said, "Did you not hear me?"
"We've concluded that my hearing is fine. If it weren't, I'd be asleep, now. I'd not have been disturbed by a bunch of overgrown kids playing gangs."
Shed got high-pitched again. "Jesus, bitch, you asking for me to come up there and put you on all fours."
There was a pause.
Then the woman said in a voice that made Porous think she was serious, "I'd like to see you try."
Shed's guys gasped and cursed. They looked at each other.
Porous went for it.
He shot through a gap.
Shed said, "Get him."
Porous made the mistake of looking back.
He tripped over a garbage bag yards from the salvation of the sidewalk. From streetlights and cars.
He screeched when a hand clasped his ankle. Someone dragged him face down along the ground.
He got a kick in the ribs that knocked the air out of him.
Shed said, "When I'm talking to a bitch, I expect you to show some patience, Porous. Stay where you are till I'm done."
"If you don't leave" - it was the woman again - "I'm going to have to come down there and bare my teeth."
"Who is this bitch?" said one of Shed's guys. "Want me to go up, Shed? Slap her?"
"No need. We deal with Porous here, then I go visit the fucking queen of England up there and show her some American hospitality." He looked up. The woman still stood there. "You hear me, bitch? After I'm done with this basic life form here," - he gestured at Porous - "I'm coming to pin you down. You hear me?"
"I think your bark's worse than your bite," she said.
Porous, experiencing pity for another human being for the first time in his life, thought, Please stop, lady. You'll get hurt. Shed and the guys turned back to Porous.
The woman said, "But I can assure you, mine isn't."
Shed ignored her. He said, "Get him to his feet."
Two of Shed's thugs hoisted Porous off the ground. They roughed him up, pushing their hands into his face, slamming him against the wall. They moved aside, Shed stepping in. His wide chest level with Porous's face.
"You're lucky tonight, Porous. Lucky we had an intervention."
Porous glanced up beyond Shed's shoulder. The woman stood on the fire escape. She pulled her tanktop over her head. Porous shuddered and blinked. Shed went on, Porous's eyes coming back to him:
"I was going to dispose of you because I had the urge, but now I have another urge, and a lady up there -"
Porous looked up again. The woman was perched on the railings. She looked naked.
" - is going to help me deal with it. Meantime -"
But she wasn't naked, though. Not quite. Seemed she had...
Fur...
And she was changing shape...
Porous moaned. His legs gave way. He saw the woman leap, but she wasn't a woman any more.
"What the hell-?" said Shed, twisting, seeing. "Jesus Christ!"
Porous watched the huge, black animal with yellow eyes and fangs spring down off the fire escape, through the darkness, and plough into Shed and his pack.
Porous crawled down the alley towards the street. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His teeth chattered. And as he went he wished he didn't have to hear the screams and the tearing noises that came from behind him.