Wolf Island

THE BEAST WITHIN

One of the werewolves howls commandingly. A couple to his left and right return the cry, along with a few on the flanks and behind us. But when those howls die away, there’s silence, which is more unsettling than the noise. I’ve got used to the violent baying of these beasts. Silence seems creepier.

Scrabbling noises behind us. I cock my head and look back. Timas and Prae scramble over the rise, guns raised but not firing. They stop when they spot us and the ranks of werewolves beyond. Prae looks confused. She turns slowly in a circle, studying the ring of twisted creatures, then shuffles towards us. Timas advances beside her, walking backwards, rifle still aimed. Werewolves from the other side follow them as far as the top of the incline, then stop at a howl from the one near the cliff.

“This is amazing,” Prae says, joining Meera and me. “They have a group leader. Even those which haven’t been modified are obedient. There are other dominant members too.” She points out a few of the larger werewolves. She’s excited by the discovery, momentarily forgetting her fear. “I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. I doubt even Antoine knows about this. His experiments succeeded far beyond his aims. They’ve become a true pack.” There are tears of happiness in her eyes.

“What happens if we kill the leader?” I ask. “Will the rest split?”

“Of course not,” she snorts. “One of the other dominant members would replace him. Or her— maybe the females are superior.” She sighs. “I wish I had time to conduct a thorough study.”

At a howl from the group leader—one of the largest werewolves, with dark grey hair—the pack starts to close around us. A couple of the smaller werewolves dart forward, but are immediately dragged to the ground and beaten or killed by the dominant members. The rest obediently hold the line.

“We’ll hit those at the centre and try to squeeze through,” Timas says. He still hasn’t turned. “Concentrated fire. If we can make them part a few metres, we stand a chance.”

“I’m game,” Meera says, straightening and picking up her discarded weapon.

“It’s hopeless,” Prae mutters, but aims her gun too.

Tell them to stop, the Kah-Gash says abruptly.

“Stop!” I gasp. As they look at me questioningly, I hold up a hand for silence and concentrate on my mysterious inner voice.

If they fire now, there will be chaos and you’ll all die. These beasts have become an organised pack. You must use that against them.

“How?” I ask aloud.

Fight them on their own terms.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The voice sighs contemptuously. Do I have to do everything for you? Before I can answer, it says curtly, Unleash the wolf.

“Which one?” I frown.

The one inside you, fool!

“I don’t—”

We haven’t time to argue. I said you’d need to obey me without question. They’re closing in. Unleash the wolf. Give it free rein. Trust me.

I hesitate. The werewolf within my skin is something I fear completely. I’ve gone to great efforts to keep it imprisoned. In my nightmares it has often burst free and caused havoc, killing all around me. I’m determined not to let those dark dreams become reality. The Kah-Gash understands that. It helped me push the werewolf down deep when I didn’t know how to do it myself. So why is it telling me to release the beast now? Is this part of the Shadow’s plan? Will I play into the hands of the Demonata if I—

Last chance, the Kah-Gash warns as the werewolves creep to within six or seven metres of us.

Cursing silently, I reach inside with magic and tear at all the barriers which I’ve put in place over the last year, ripping them to shreds, pulling down the wall of safeguards which has protected me from my more beastly, bloodthirsty half. The wolf at my core is startled, suspecting a trap. Then, as I encourage it forward, it realises this is real and leaps to the surface, howling with delight.

My temperature shoots up, my skin tightens, my bones seem to crack, snapping away from each other, thrusting upwards and outwards.

I fall to the ground, crying out with pain. Vaguely aware of Meera shouting, trying to help, and Timas roaring, asking for orders to fire. I shake my head. My eyes are hardening. There’s blood in my mouth. I raise a trembling hand and stare at it. The nails lengthen while I watch, fingers curling inward, hairs sprouting from my knuckles. Then my sight flickers and blurs.

My gums split, my teeth grow, my lips extend. I cough, lungs altering, heart pounding faster than it ever did before. Muscles rip and strain, then knot again. White noise fills my ears, threatens to deafen me, then fades, leaving me with a better sense of hearing than ever.

“He’s turning into one of them!” Timas cries, open panic in his voice. I sense him levelling his gun at me.

“No!” Meera shouts, grabbing the barrel of his rifle, jerking it sideways.

Sight returns. Colours are different, not as keenly defined, but my field of vision has expanded and I can see more sharply, as if viewing the world through a magnifying glass. I spot Timas and Meera struggling. Prae Athim is gawping at me. The werewolves have stopped and are staring. Some paw the ground, eager to sink their fangs into us, but held in place out of fear of the dominant pack.

Something howls, a cry of jubilation, triumph and violence. As the muscles in my throat constrict, I realise the howling comes from me. As that understanding sinks in, I get to my feet, arms flexing, and gaze down at my new body.

My clothes are ripped and falling off my limbs. I’m naked, but I’m not bothered. What need have animals of clothes?

I howl again with savage exultation. Then I look for the group leader. Finding him, I chuckle throatily and step forward. With a challenging grunt, I beckon him on.

The werewolf snarls. I can smell his uncertainty. He’s not sure if I’m human or wolfen. I howl again, clearing matters up. His eyes narrow and, with a howl of his own, he charges. He’s huge, arms like trunks, but only slightly bigger than me. I plant my feet, twist and drive my shoulder into the werewolf’s chest.

He’s knocked to the floor. Around him, the creatures wail and screech. As he rises, furious, I kick him hard in the side of his head. He falls again. I’m on him before he can rise a second time. Setting my teeth on his throat, I bite. Blood fills my mouth and I drink greedily. This is what the werewolf within me has been waiting for all its life. I could squat here and sup until the sun sets.

But the other dominant werewolves have different ideas. Seeing its chance for glory, one darts forward and latches on to my arm. Sinks its fangs deep into my flesh. I break free of the dead werewolf with a muffled cry of pain, then wrench my arm away and head-butt the challenger. Its skull cracks and it drops.

Another attacks, gibbering madly. I grab it by its crotch and throat, lift it up, hold it over my head, then toss it into the pack. Those it lands on go wild and tear it to pieces.

A fourth werewolf steps forward, the largest yet, with the widest shoulders and longest fangs. A female. She looks edgy. If she was a true leader, she would have led from the beginning. I think she’s the strongest creature on the island, but she lacks courage. She’s only challenging me now because she thinks she has to, that I’ll work my way through the dominant members of the pack, one by one, to ensure complete command.

I leap at the werewolf. She lashes out. I let her fist connect with the side of my head, then laugh. I throw a few punches, gnarled hands flying faster than they did when I was human. The challenger stumbles away from me, dazed. I grab her head, jerk it back, fasten my teeth on her throat… then growl.

The werewolf whimpers. I growl again and the whimpering stops. I release her and shove her away—alive. The beast stands, head lowered, subjugated. I glare at the others in the dominant pack, then sweep my gaze over those they command. I roar a question, but not a single one answers.

Returning to the body of the original leader, I lower my head and chew at his throat, leaving myself open to attack. When the werewolves hold their ground, I know there will be no more challenges. Standing again, I look around victoriously, taking it all in… the cowed werewolves, those I’ve killed, the shocked faces of the three humans. I fill with a sense of power and joy. Raising my head to the sky, I howl long and loud, and all around me the werewolves howl back in obedient, respectful response.

They’re my pack now.