“There is nothing significant in the trees,” it said. I relaxed a little.
“They surrounded us,” Albert said. “And then Magdy took a shot at them. And then things really got loud. Michel and I got out of there. We just ran. We didn’t see where Magdy and Enzo went.”
“How long ago was this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Albert said. “Ten minutes, fifteen. Something like that.”
“Show us where you came from,” I said. Albert pointed. I nodded. “Get up,” I said. “Dickory will take you and Michel back to the tree line. You can get back from there.”
“I’m not going anywhere with that thing,” Michel said, his first contribution to the evening.
“Okay, then you have two choices,” I said. “Stay here and hope we come back for you before these things do, or hope that you make it to the tree line before they catch up with you. Or you can let Dickory help you and maybe survive. Your choice.” I said it a little more forcefully than I had to, but I was annoyed that this idiot didn’t want help staying alive.
“Okay,” he said.
“Good,” I said. I picked up their rifles and handed them to Dickory, and took his. “Take them to the tree line near Magdy’s homestead. Don’t give them back their rifles until you get there. Come back and find us as soon as you can.” Dickory nodded, intimidated Albert and Michel into movement, and headed off.
“I never liked them,” Gretchen said as they left.
“I can see why,” I said, and gave Dickory’s rifle to Hickory. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”
We heard them before we saw them. Actually, Hickory, whose hearing goes above human range, heard them—trilling and chirping and chanting. “They are singing,” Hickory said quietly, and led Gretchen and me to them. Dickory arrived, silently, just before we found them. Hickory handed over its rifle.
In the small clearing were six figures.
Enzo and Magdy were the first I recognized. They knelt on the ground, heads down, waiting for whatever was going to happen to them. The light was not good enough for me to see any expression on either of their faces, but I didn’t have to see their faces to know that they were scared. Whatever had happened to the two of them had gone badly, and now they were just waiting for it to end. However it would end.
I took in Enzo’s kneeling form and remembered in a rush why I loved him. He was there because he was trying to be a good friend for Magdy. Trying to keep him out of trouble, or at the very least to share his trouble if he could. He was a decent human being, which is rare enough but is something of a miracle in a teenage boy. I came out here for him because I still loved him. It had been weeks since we’d said anything more than a simple “hello” at school—when you break up in a small community you have to make some space—but it didn’t matter. I was still connected to him. Some part of him stayed in my heart, and I imagined would for as long as I lived.
Yes, it was a really inconvenient place and time to realize all of this, but these things happen when they happen. And it didn’t make any noise, so it was all right.
I looked over at Magdy, and this is the thought I had: When all of this is through, I am seriously going to kick his ass.
The four other figures…
Werewolves.
It was the only way to describe them. They looked feral, and strong, and carnivorous and nightmarish, and with all of that was movement and sound that made it clear that there were brains in there to go along with everything else. They shared the four eyes of all the Roanoke animals we had seen so far, but other than that they could have been lifted right out of folklore. These were werewolves.
Three of the werewolves were busy taunting and poking Magdy and Enzo, clearly toying with them and threatening them. One of them held a rifle that it had taken off of Magdy, and was jabbing him with it. I wondered if was still loaded, and what would happen to Magdy or the werewolf if it went off. Another held a spear and occasionally poked Enzo with it. The three of them were chirping and clicking at each other; I don’t doubt they were discussing what to do with Magdy and Enzo, and how to do it.
The fourth werewolf stood apart from the other three and acted differently. When one of the other werewolves went to poke Enzo or Magdy, it would step in and try to keep them from doing it, standing between the humans and the rest of the werewolves. Occasionally it would step in and try to talk to one of the other werewolves, gesturing back to Enzo and Magdy for emphasis. It was trying to convince the other werewolves of something. To let the humans go? Maybe. Whatever it was, the other werewolves weren’t having any of it. The fourth werewolf kept at it anyway.