Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

“Well, it is flu season.” Anthony stated the obvious reason for the local high school closing down to the widespread illness of its students. “Didn’t they get their shots?” He was glad that Jake had switched with him, watching their northern border for any signs of Freedom’s Trident. Roughing it was only fun for so long.

“I’m telling you, it’s those shots that give you the flu.” Troy added.

Val shook her head. “The flu spreads in a pattern. This happened too quick, like everybody got infected at the same time. When I looked into the Shadow, I saw globby black chunks in the air.”

“Globby black chunks?” Anthony didn’t quite understand.

Val pursed her lips, reaching for a better description. Sometimes there was no direct correlation in the physical world to the things one saw in the Shadow. “Kind of like soot, but, you know, gooey.”

“Like black snot.” Anthony countered.

It was Val’s turn to be lost. “Come again.”

“When you work a long time in a dusty warehouse and you’re breathing it in all day, your snot turns an ugly color. You get a case of the black snots.” Anthony felt a little weird explaining it. Hadn’t everyone had a case of the black snots at some point in their life?

“Uh, yeah, black snots then were all over, in the air, gathering in the corners of rooms. Little versions ofEdge of Destiny were skittering around trying to clean up, but they seemed to be falling behind."

“It sounds like something we should look into from the Shadow.” Ken pulled up the trap door to the locus.

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Ken checked the notes he made at his grandmother’s once more before getting started. Placing his notebook down he walked out the appropriate distance and began marking a circle in the darkness of the Shadow. He then sat in the center of the circle and placed the rabbit meat in front of himself and ignited it. Ken breathed deep and let forth a howl to add to the smoke of his offering. He was confident in the intonation and ritual taught by his family to summon the type of spirit he was seeking.

The first Ken saw of the summoned spirit was its golden eyes reflected in the dying embers. “It has been a long time since I’ve heard the call of a half brother.” The wolf spirit spoke slowly as it came into view.

Ken placed his hands at his side, showing that he did not mean to further the summoning into a binding. “I am Seeker of Truth. I have called to ask you to teach me to fight with tooth and claw.”

The spirit laughed. “Not in that weak form. Those teeth too flat, the claws too brittle.”

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Cain had returned from his journey in the Shadow. Jake was also in the living room, finally getting a break from his work at the hospital. Troy didn’t feel like having to fill in the rest of his packmates on the latest threat to their territory. "Those hunters did some business in town.Talbot might have chased them off for now, but they might not stay gone. I’m going to see what I can find out."

A series of whirls and chirps accompanied Troy’s entrance into Harrison’s Cantina. It wasn’t the first time he had entered the shop, but he still couldn’t marry the idea of Star Wars and a hunting shop. From the R2-D2 sound effect at the entrance to the counter straight from the Mos Eisley cantina scene, the place was both museum and shop. The owner looked up from his books, “Hey, there, what can I do you for?”

“I was looking for some cameras to see if a site I was looking at would be good for game.”

“You’re the second customer I’ve had that’s asked for cameras.” The two continued in small talk about the different qualities of the various cameras that John, the proprietor of the shop, still had in stock. Troy pressed for more information on the previous customer, seeing how they had purchased the better quality of camera. He stated that he might be able to get theirs. He didn’t have much information. The guy and his friend were hunters who paid in cash. John had some questions of his own. “So, you’re part of that group living up at the old Creed House, right? My cousin has some stories about that creepy place. Once, he told me that a little girl drowned up in that pond up there.” He looked up at Troy, “No offense.”

"

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Ken heard the howling as he shut off his jeep. “Damn.” His family’s territory back in West Virginia covered miles and miles of land. His grandmother eschewed the use of modern technology in maintaining their territory. So, the only way the pack could communicate over such distances was through their howls. He was no Cahalith bard, but Ken had become adept at the subtle variations and tones of the lupine speech. Two werewolves had found someone unexpected. One issued a challenge to the interloper, the other called out his location to his fellow pack mates. Then, in the distance, he heard two responses. The first called out that he was on the trail of their prey. A second, further away, called that he was coming to join his packmates against the trespasser.

Ken pulled his Glock from his glove compartment. A fifth howl tore at the night. This howl he had heard before. Not only because it was a howl of challenge, but because it was Val’s howl of challenge. “That’s not good,” he grabbed a couple extra clips and took off at a dead run. Times like this, he wished that he was better at fighting. Then, he’d be able to shift and run swiftly to his packmate’s aid. It was just practical to dedicate the spiritual power necessary to shift with your clothing. Taking off your clothes to transform and then having the presence of mind to come back to them, or having stashes of clothes throughout your territory was just a pain in the ass. To transform with a gun, not to mention the clip and each and every bullet would be grossly unproductive. As he ran, Ken heard another familiar growl. That was Troy, he had caught up with Val and had joined her attack.

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Val and Troy had discovered from calling Dr. Blake’s office that her last appointment was at a place called the Inez Wellness Home. Val had discovered an article from the local newspaper, citing that the local populace of Inez were protesting the asylum in their little town. There was even a photo of the townsfolk picketing the unsafe and improper heath codes in front of the guarded gates. It further stated that the Home’s operator, Dr. Seth Martins declined to talk to the press.

“We know that Blake was scheduled to be there in Inez about a week ago. And we also know that all the murders that occurred all last week were pretty much a straight shot between here and there.” Val looked over the map, noting were the creature had struck.

“The hunters’ info suggested that the creature was on the run, killing and stealing vehicles to travel further East. So, the creature was some sort of patient, based off of the clothes he was wearing and the ID bracelet. He took this Dr. Blake and escaped from the nuthouse. Then it’ll be a road trip through Pennsylvania’s most recent murder attractions to find her?”

Val grabbed her keys off of the table. “I know that it’s a bit out of range of our territory, but the owl’s only been helpful to our pack. Finding her may be important.”

“You don’t need to sell me. It sounds like fun.”

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Val placed her hand to her head. It felt like a truck had jacknifed in her brain. “Ugh. What happened?” She turned her head, gathering her surroundings, reeling back when dead eyes stared back at her. “Oh, right.” She ran her tongue through her mouth and spit out as much of the flavor of the creature she had killed.

“Feeling better?” Troy offered a hand to help her up.

Val lifted herself off the ground. “So, what have you been up to while I’ve been napping?” Val took a closer look at their opponent. Perhaps it was its fear aura, making it look more powerful. Now, it looked like some poor deformed man.

“Yeah,” Troy took notice of Val’s observances, “that happened after he died. The snake arm, the mirror teeth, and all that shit just faded away.” He pointed at the man’s shoulder. There were two scars, a pair of sinuous lines, still raw and red. “There’s that. What’s more, he’s got Uratha blood on his clothes.” Troy motioned to some bloodstains.

Val also noticed something about the clothes. “He’s wearing scrubs, like a hospital worker, or a patient.” She checked the elongated former snake arm, then she checked the torn arm, finding the bracelet that she was looking for. “A patient.” She tore the small strip from the man’s wrist, pocketing the evidence.

“And a soldier,” Troy nodded at the Airborne tattoo on his forearm. He was no longer a soldier, but Troy still felt a bit of kinship with the dead man. Something had done this to him. He probably didn’t ask for any of this. “Back to the blood. I didn’t recognize the smell. Do you think we should try to track it down?”

Val yawned. “Honestly, no.” She attempted a weak smile. “I’m torn between the reason though. Either I’m tired past the point of caring or it’s too dangerous. Let’s get out of here.”

Troy agreed, “Let me take care of him, first.”

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Note: Walk is intended for mature audiences only

Returning to the Creed House, Val pulled up the photos Troy had taken in the hunters’ room at the Sherwood Motel. Zooming in, she could read the details from the responding officer to the medical examiner. “Looks like we got pretty much everything they have on these murders.”

Troy loved the picture quality from his Iphone. He knew that it wasn’t very Hunter-In-Darkness, to embrace the ease that technology offered. He blamed it on his Irraka half. The sway of the New Moon in his blood drew him to look at things differently than the majority of his Tribe. “And they don’t even know we’re on to them.” Technology may not be embracing the primal, but it certainly was cunning.

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The headlights of Val’s truck shone on a scene of violence. At the top of the driveway of the Creed House a huge pack of dogs were attacking a manifested Drowns-In-Lace. Out of her vehicle, Val saw that this was no ordinary pack. There was the expected assortment of strays and feral dogs, but there was also tags and collars reflecting off of the light. There were local dogs here. Large dogs leaped for the spirit’s throat, while small ones nipped on her cracked Sunday church shoes. Drowns-In-Lace seemed more annoyed than angered. She plucked a border collie off of her hand, a few fingers pulling off as she did so and tossed the dog into the pond.

Off to her right, Val saw Troy emerge from the woods. He paused not far from the scene, head cocked in puzzlement. Val had to agree, even for them, this was not normal. That these dogs were able to attack the Fear Spirit was odd enough. Even more, they should have been able to smell that wolves lived here. It was a rare canine that would willing face her kind. She passed over the idea of the hard and fast answer. It would be easy to shift into her wolf form and lay waste to these intruders. If they had all been wild dogs, she just might have. But a number of these dogs had owners, people who loved these canines. Counted them as family members, not merely as pets. She imagined a child asking her parent where Bosco was and ‘Lost Dog’ papers posted on telephone poles. Val wouldn’t have that on her conscience. She searched for the words Ken had been drilling her in the First Tongue. “What is going on here?”

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The morning after the fight, Val woke early to go running. She pulled
her sneakers on and rolled her shoulders. Then, she sighed and pulled
out her cell phone to call her insurance agent and start the claim for
the truck. “I don’t know,” she sighed, “maybe I shouldn’t’ve left the
sandwiches on the seat. Damn bear.” The fucking thing was probably
going to be written off — at least she had only a small deductible.
Worst part was losing the Johnny Cash CD’s. She gave the agent the
location where she had left the truck, and said that yes, she would
file whatever reports were needed with whatever law enforcement
agencies were appropriate. And good luck to them in arresting the
fucking bear that was responsible for tearing the thing apart.
Ken and Cain were already up before her — or maybe one or both of
them just hadn’t gone to sleep at all yet — and the sight of the two
of them, one methodically cleaning a hand-gun, the other with a rifle
in one hand as if he were about to go hunting, made her stop. “I’ll
be back in about an hour or so,” she told Ken, adding that this
morning she would take a route towards Wolf Run Road. “Seems
appropriate,” she added. “Might turn up Horse Thief Run if there’s
time.”

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Troy was quiet on the way back to the house. He was rolling the fight with the other pack over in his mind, at least what he could remember of it. When his pack arrived at home, Troy didn’t even go into the house, he simply stated “I’m going for a run”. He started to jog off into the woods and changed into wolf form in mid stride, not waiting for, or expecting a response, from the others. He needed to think about what had happened. He had gotten the drop on the other pack, ‘maybe not that last one’, he thought to himself. ‘She had used the same gifts that I had’, he thought. ‘She had gotten the drop on all of us’, he thought bitterly, and that bothered him.

The fight started off really well, ‘that guy had no clue I was even there’, he thought to himself, as he ran along the packs border, on autopilot. ‘I had him dead to rights, he was exposed, and then…I just lost my cool’. He shook his head as he ran. ‘I have to do a better job controlling the rage’, he thought. ‘I use stealth and cunning to fight, I don’t just come toe to toe and bash, like some fucking idiot. I’m the darkness that waits in the night’.

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