Note: Act 3 ran about twice as long as I originally planned. Therefore, I will probably have to add another act (an Act 6, for those of you who made it this far and are counting). Hopefully, though, I will be able to put this puppy to bed then, because it's the holidays, and I have real life things I need to be doing, and I also need to be getting to bed at more decent hours.
Further Disclaimers: For this chapter I also need to acknowledge the work of author Whitley Strieber for his creation of the Wolfen, as interpreted by Michael Wadleigh channeled through Barry Lopez. I recommend both the novel Wolfen and the movie by the same name. Both are probably hard to find, but IMO are worth the effort. I also recommend Lopez's book, Of Wolves and Men, which I believe was as much a source for the movie as Strieber's novel.
The other stuff, implying "hidden nations" of creatures, is mine. All mine, bwahahahaha!
I greatly appreciate the continued reviews. I know these acts take a while to slog through, and I appreciate the effort.
Act 4
James, Danielle, and Claude are sitting around the table in the same conference room that we saw them in before. Claude has his head down on the table, resting on his arms. James is leaning back in his chair, feet on the table. Danielle is sitting up in her chair, looking between the other two.
"So what do you really think this is about?" Danielle asks.
James looks at her with a raised eyebrow.
"So what are you saying?" he says. "Are you saying that I really didn't answer the question the last four times you asked it?"
"You said: 'Hell if I know', 'How should I know', 'Something to do with the Fitzgerald sisters, I guess', and 'Keep your panties on, we'll find out soon enough'," Danielle says. "None of those qualify as answers. Something's up. The Weird sisters have completed their mission, but they haven't come back. Now, Rowlands is calling a pack meeting in the middle of the night."
James looks at Claude and raises an eyebrow.
"Ooh, something's up," James says. "We have a keen detective in our midst."
Claude raises his head and grins devilishly at Danielle.
"May I just say that I strongly disagree with James' suggestion?" he says. "I for one have no problem with you not keeping your panties on."
Danielle shakes her head, stands up, and starts to walk around the room. She looks nervously at James.
"You talked with Rowlands," Danielle says to James. "You know something."
James shrugs.
"I don't know why he called this meeting," he says.
"But you know something," Danielle says.
"Yeah, I suppose," James says. He looks at Claude and grins. "So what do you think, should I share?"
Claude shrugs, then puts his head back down on the table.
"I take that as a no," James says. Then he stops smiling and looks at Danielle. "I strongly suggest you relax and sit down. Something is up, and Rowlands is in a state, but you being nervous about it will just piss him off. The best thing to do is sit the fuck down and wait for Rowlands to come and tell us what's 'up'."
Danielle sits down, but her expression is even more nervous.
"Why does he even care about them?" she says, almost wailing. "I was here first, and they're just a couple of little girls."
James snorts.
"You've been a wolf for five years and you still don't get it," he says. "You still think like a piece of human meat. You may have been a big time model and stripper in your previous life, with men falling all over you, but what attracts human meat doesn't attract male werewolves. Strength is what attracts us. Ginger has it, you don't. Hell, I even get the feeling that her dweeb sister has more strength than you, but she's such a fucktard she can't pull her head out of her ass long enough to use it. That's why Claude's the only one who will fuck you."
"You used to," Danielle says.
"Yeah, until Ginger kicked your ass the second week after coming out of her chrysalis," James says. "Hell, she did it the day after she was able to stand. And you knew she would, the way you kept trying to bully her when she was still in a wheelchair. She smelled your fear. We all did.
"And among self respecting wolves, fear is a turnoff."
"Speak for yourself," says Claude.
"I said 'self respecting'," James says without anger, turning to look at Claude. "You try to pretend you're the man you were before you were bitten. A professor in a small private college with a thing for spoiled little brat co-eds. Never mind the fact that six months ago in Afghanistan I saw you tear the throats out of two Saudi insurgents with your teeth. You're not the French literature instructor any more. When you finally accept what you really are, you will also finally realize just how worthless she is." James points at Danielle as he says this.
Then James shakes his head, smiling slightly at the memory.
"I wish Rowlands would send the three of us back to Afghanistan again," he says, his voice far away and dreamlike. "Seeing Ginger howling in the moonlight, that guy's head in her right hand…good times. I'd even share her with you again."
Claude shrugs.
"It wasn't bad," he says. "But I'd still rather make love than war."
"Why settle for one over the other?" James says. "We're built for both."
"So am I," says Danielle.
"Maybe," James says. "But you don't smell like you believe it. Claude, for all of his stupid pretending, smells like he knows."
"So what do you think is up with Rowlands, James?" Claude asks.
James shrugs.
"I don't know," James says. "Just before Ginger killed Roskoff, or at least firebombed his penthouse, Rowlands got this picture through his cell phone. It looked like it was a picture of Ginger and Brigitte shot through the head."
"What?" Claude says. "Ginger and Brigitte are dead?"
"No," Danielle says, looking daggers at James. "They were just playing their old sick little game, weren't they?"
"Sick little game?" Claude asks.
"Staging death scenes and photographing each other in them," Danielle says. "They've talked about it right in front of you, Claude, don't you remember?"
"Must've tuned it out." Claude says. "That's crazy, though, messing with Rowlands' mind like that."
"Yeah," James chuckles. "But they sure yanked his chain though. I figured that Ginger would come right back and yell surprise. Rowlands would have forgiven her, like he always does. But it's night now and…dammit! Where the fuck is she?"
At that moment, Rowlands opens the door. His ears are no longer pointed, his fingernails are no longer claw like, and his teeth look normal.
"Good, good," Rowlands says. "I'm glad to see you all here. We have a crisis on our hands."
"What?" James says. "Did someone kill Ginger and the fucktard after they killed Roskoff?"
"They didn't kill Roskoff," James says. "That was someone else. Someone who convinced Ginger and Brigitte to go with him."
"Go with him?" James says. "Who's him?"
"Roskoff's favorite freelance killer," Rowlands says. "A man who calls himself 'the Hunter'. I suspect he killed his former employer as part of a deal he made with the Fitzgerald sisters. A deal to go with him."
"Go where?" Claude asks.
"Ginger and Brigitte have defected," Rowlands says.
"Defected?" says James. "To where? Is some other country offering them the treatment?"
Rowlands shakes his head.
"No other country has the treatment," Rowlands says. "Even in this country, no one else has the treatment except us."
"Someone could have lied to them," Claude says. "Convinced them they had it."
"Perhaps," Rowlands says. "The important thing is, I know who has them. Pack your weapons and some extras of your work clothing, just in case this trip takes more than one day. I want you at the front door in thirty minutes.
"We're going to get them back."
"Jesus, B, look at them. They're us!"
Brigitte looks up from the picture at Ravenwolf.
"So what the fuck is happening here?" Brigitte asks. "Were we reincarnated?"
Ravenwolf shakes her head.
"I don't know," say Ravenwolf. "As best as I can figure, history doesn't necessarily repeat itself, but it does like to recycle certain themes, usually with variations. For example, although Montgomery Fitzgerald looked like your father, my understanding is that your father is a kind and gentle man…"
"He's a fucking milquetoast," Ginger mutters under her breath.
"…while by all accounts, Montgomery Fitzgerald was a violent and cruel man."
"How do you know about our father?" Brigitte says.
"Oh, I know quite a bit about you," Ravenwolf says. "Do you think it's a coincidence that I met you at that flea market? I first saw the two of you in that flea market when I was in a trance next to my mother's campfire. That was before your parents were born. Then I had that same vision in a dream less than a week after quitting Rowlands' project. I can't tell you how, but I knew where and when to go, and there you were. After that, I started to research you."
"Wait a minute," Ginger says. "You knew I was going to be bitten? You knew we were going to be fucking werewolves, and you didn't tell us?"
Ginger turns and looks at Brigitte.
"I don't like her anymore, B," she says. Then she growls and turns and stares at Ravenwolf, who doesn't flinch at all.
"Ginger," Brigitte says quietly, her hooded eyes looking back and forth. "Back down, now."
"Why?" Ginger says.
"Because you're forgetting someone else is in the room," Brigitte says.
Ginger turns and looks at the Hunter, who has his gun out, and pointed towards the floor, but obviously at the ready.
"Oh yeah," Ginger says as she breaks eye contact with Ravenwolf.
"Ginger," Ravenwolf says. "What would you have said if I had warned you about being bitten by a werewolf?"
"I'd have laughed at you," Ginger says. "But that's not the point. You could have sent the Hunter to guard us."
"When, Ginger?" Ravenwolf says. "I had no idea when you were going to be bitten. And besides, if I had that kind of control over my grandson, he would never have done any work for Roskoff."
"But you knew it was going to happen," Ginger says. "You should have done something to stop it."
"Some things are destiny, Ginger," Ravenwolf says. "Future history. I couldn't stop this. No one could. All I could do was wait for it to happen."
Ravenwolf takes a final swig of her second beer.
"Do you know that the attacks in and around Bailey Downs have not stopped since you two left?" Ravenwolf says. "There have been other 'Beasts of Bailey Downs'. So far, Rowlands and his superiors have been able to keep a lid on things, but eventually they are going to miss somebody. In this world of highways and planes, it's only a matter of time until lycanthropy starts to appear elsewhere. When that happens, an epidemic will start and an interspecies war will begin again. It's only a matter of time unless someone does something. The only someones who can are the two of you.
"As it was before in 1815 in Fort Bailey, so it is now. The Fitzgerald sisters, the Red and the Black, hold the key to ending the curse."
"End the curse, how?" Ginger asks.
"Before you answer that question," Brigitte says. "Answer mine. What is the curse?"
"Geez, B," Ginger says. "It's pretty damn obvious, don't ya think?"
"No," Brigitte says. "No, it's really not."
"She's right, Ginger," Ravenwolf says. "It's really not."
Ginger, Brigitte, Ravenwolf, and the Hunter have all moved into another room. This room is much cleaner. It looks like a combined bed room and sitting room. Ravenwolf is wearing a coat and is putting a log on a roaring fire in the fireplace.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Ravenwolf says, turning to face the other three.
"What?" says Ginger.
"Shakespeare, right?" Brigitte says.
"Specifically Hamlet," Ravenwolf says. "Are you two familiar with the concept of convergent evolution?"
Ginger and Brigitte look at one another.
"No," says Brigitte.
"Convergent evolution is when two divergent lines of organisms independently evolve similar traits," Ravenwolf says. "Like the wings of birds and bats."
"OK, I've learned something new," Brigitte says. "And this has what to do with a curse??"
"Many human beings assume that we are the only species to evolve self awareness," Ravenwolf says. "We're not. The chattering of crows and ravens? They really are talking to one another. Directly to the west of us, there are giant bipedal apes that, even though they superficially resemble human beings, are actually closer related to orangutans. "
"You mean Big Foot?" Ginger says.
"Yes, 'Big Foot'," Ravenwolf says. "Or Gigantopithecus magus. Both Ottawa and Washington play host to Gigantopithicine ambassadors and advisors. They're probably the most intelligent species on the planet."
"Still wondering what this has to do with a curse," Brigitte says.
"The point is, several species have independently evolved intelligence," Ravenwolf says, sitting down in a chair opposite of Brigitte and Ginger and putting her feet up by the fireplace. "Among them, there is a species of wolf, forgotten by most humans except in legend. A giant wolf, perhaps half again as large as the timber wolf, that lives for 50 to 70 years instead of 10 years, that reaches sexual maturity at 10 years instead of 1 year, that has 1 or 2 cubs per litter instead of 5 to 10. Here in North America, the native peoples and the wolfen co-existed in peace. In Europe, on the other hand, the wolfen were the 'big bad wolves', and a state of war existed between their kind and humanity. It was a war of annihilation, and it was a war that the humans eventually, or at least apparently, won. But it was a hard fought war."
"OK, this is sounding a little better," Brigitte says.
"The wolfen were often believed throughout the Middle Ages to be 'werewolves', Ravenwolf says. "So far as I can tell, that was a myth. But eventually, as humans got the upper hand on wolfen, the surviving wolfen made a deal with...my people call them 'spirits', I have no idea what they really were, and the lycanthropy pathogen was created."
Ravenwolf chuckles.
"Ironically, the legend of werewolves actually predates the emergence of actual werewolves," she says. "It really is the perfect revenge for a species losing a genocidal war. Create an infection that turns the enemy into you. It's brilliant in fact."
"And how do you know this is what happened?" Brigitte says.
"The wolfen told the ravens, and the ravens told my mother, and my mother told me," Ravenwolf says. "And history supports what my mother was told. The final battle in Europe between human and wolfen occurred in the French city of Gevauden, right after the French Indian War. Two wolfen, possibly a mated pair, were killing and eating the citizens of that city. Some veterans, just returned from the French Indian War, went after the wolves, and failed to capture them. Some of them were killed in the attempt, others were bitten by the pair, who may themselves have been transformed werewolves. Back then, the monkshood treatment was well known. The monkshood delayed the transformation long enough for the infected soldiers to cross the Atlantic, and make it to the forests around and in what is now Bailey Downs. They considered the land uninhabited, you see. A place where they could safely become monsters without harming anyone. Of course, what they actually did was succeed in spreading the infection to my people. My people saw the lycanthropy infection the same way the infected French soldiers did. They saw it as a curse. And one day, after a werewolf attacked and killed her sister, a young girl had a vision of deliverance or damnation, coming in the form of two white sisters, the Red and the Black."
"So that girl, she was your previous incarnation?" Ginger asks.
"I suppose so," Ravenwolf says. "I prefer the word 'version' myself."
"The vision, it was a prophecy?" Brigitte asks.
"That's as good a word as any," Ravenwolf says. "The prophecy was this, the Red and the Black would either end the curse, or make it stronger. 'To end the curse, the sisters had to kill the boy. If the sisters failed to kill the boy, one sister would kill the other. If the Black killed the Red, the curse would be ended. If the Red killed the Black, the curse would become stronger'."
Brigitte and Ginger look at one another.
"Depressing," Brigitte says.
"Yeah," Ginger says. "But didn't we used to like depressing?"
"Montgomery Fitzgerald departed Ottawa in April of 1815," Ravenwolf says. "The last dispatch his sponsors got from him was dated September 30, 1815. Sometime in late October of that same year, the Fitzgerald sisters, claiming to be orphaned by a rafting accident, appeared at Fort Bailey, under the command of a Mr. Wallace Rowlands."
"What?" Ginger says. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!"
"Now you know how I felt when you said your names were actually Ginger and Brigitte," the Hunter says.
Ginger looks at Brigitte.
"I forgot he could talk," she says.
"So when Captain Wallace Rowlands came to you," Brigitte says. "You immediately recognized the name."
"Very good, Brigitte," Ravenwolf says. "It wasn't just the opportunity to do adequately funded research that interested me in his offer. I wanted to stay close to him. I figured your paths would cross his eventually."
"So what happened after the sisters reached the fort?" Brigitte asks.
"Well, I think before they reached the fort, the sisters encountered the previous version of me, who told them the prophecy," Ravenwolf says. "At the fort, they found a small, ragtag group of men under siege by werewolves. The werewolves turned out to be the other men from the fort, who had left months ago to get supplies."
Ravenwolf looks into the fire, as if pondering what to say next.
"It's hard to know exactly what happened there," Ravenwolf says. "Fort Bailey burned to the ground, and every man there was killed. Fragments of the earlier Rowlands' journals were recovered by my ancestors, who at the time couldn't read them. The fragments do confirm that Gingeranne and Brigitte Fitzgerald, the daughters of Montgomery Fitzgerald, arrived at the fort. Some of my later ancestors believed they had visions of the final hours at Fort Bailey. It's hard to know, however, whether what they saw was really what happened."
"So what do you think happened?" Brigitte asks.
"From what I can tell," Ravenwolf says. "The sisters failed to kill the boy, who was Rowlands' son, before he bit Gingeranne. In the final attack on the fort, all of its defenders and the attacking werewolves were killed, leaving the two sisters as the only two survivors."
"So the Red killed the Black?" Ginger asks in a horrified voice.
"No, I don't think so," Ravenwolf says. "The Red refused to kill the Black, and the Black refused to kill the Red. As it turns out, there was a third way around the curse."
"And that was?" Brigitte asks.
"Just to stay with one another," Ravenwolf says. "Just to love one another. My predecessor may have been a wise woman, but she was no biologist. She didn't know about the final transformation phase of the infection."
"I don't understand," Brigitte says.
"There is always a third way to end a curse," Ravenwolf says. "And that is to accept it. A curse must first and foremost be an unwelcome imposition. When a curse is welcomed, it becomes something other than a curse."
"So…what's the prophecy you saw about us?" Ginger asks.
"Pretty much the same thing," Ravenwolf says. "You obviously failed to 'kill the boy'."
"We don't know that the werewolf who attacked me was a boy," Ginger says.
"Yeah we do," Brigitte says. "Sam saw his circumcised penis."
"He had a circumcised dick?" Ginger says. "Wicked."
"You both have also already tried to kill one another, and failed, even if Brigitte came close," Ravenwolf says.
"But because of the treatment, we haven't exactly 'accepted the curse' either," says Brigitte. "So that leaves us in a kind of limbo, huh?"
Ginger turns to Brigitte.
"You said," Ginger says. "You said that you wouldn't go back to Rowlands and the pack. You said that you would rather go deep into the forest and become a wolf and live free. You were right all along, B."
Brigitte looks at Ravenwolf.
"One last question," she says. "Assuming you're right, and maybe after sharing blood the sisters simply stayed together. Why would that have ended, or at least tabled, the curse?"
Ravenwolf looks briefly at Brigitte, but then looks longer at Ginger.
"It seems that fully transformed wolves are no more inclined to kill and eat humans than their non-ex-human kin, either wolfen or timber wolf," Ravenwolf says. "And after the fire at Fort Bailey, there were no humans around for werewolves in chrysalis to attack."
No one says anything. The fire crackles. Silent tears start to roll down Ginger's face. Brigitte takes Ginger's hand without a word.
"Did you hear that, B?" Ginger finally says, her voice soft. "If I become a wolf, I won't be a monster any more."
"Is that what you want, Ginger?" Brigitte asks, her voice equally quiet.
"More than anything, B," Ginger whispers.
"Me too," Brigitte says.
The Hunter is loading a cooler in the back of the red Escape. Ravenwolf is standing next to him. It is cold, and both their breaths are misting.
"Move quickly," Ravenwolf says. "They haven't had a dose of Rowlands' treatment for two days. Right now, the progression of the infection is stalled, but that won't last much longer. When the progression starts back up, it will move at an accelerated rate. They need to be deep in the woods north of Bailey Downs before the transformation starts up again, particularly Ginger."
"You sure you won't come with us?" the Hunter asks. "We have room."
"Not a good idea," Ravenwolf says. "I'll slow you down. You'll need to travel almost non-stop, and I'm just not up to it anymore. Fortunately, if you keep traveling, you should be able to stay under the radar. Since Rowlands now believes that the Fitzgerald sisters are dead, he won't be looking for them."
Ravenwolf helps her grandson to close the back hatch to the Escape.
"Are the Fitzgerald sisters still asleep?" she asks.
"Last I checked," the Hunter says.
"Good, because I have one last thing to say to you," Ravenwolf says. "Be very careful with Brigitte Fitzgerald."
"Why?" the Hunter says. "I thought Ginger was the bigger threat."
"I'm not talking about threats," Ravenwolf says. "But I see the way you look at her."
"What are you talking about?" the Hunter says. "You think I have a crush on Brigitte Fitzgerald?"
"I think it may go deeper than that," Ravenwolf says. "There were…hints…of something between the 1815 Brigitte and the 1815 version of you."
The Hunter shrugs.
"You mean they got it on?" the Hunter asks.
"He protected her," Ravenwolf says. "Ostensibly so that she would do her duty and kill her sister, but I think the protective urge ran deeper."
"Well that was then," the Hunter says. "This is now. There's not much percentage in starting up something with someone who is going to transform into a member of a different species. I might as well start something with the family dog."
"We have a family dog?" Ravenwolf says.
"The killing business doesn't lend itself much to having attachments," the Hunter says.
"I noticed," Ravenwolf says. "I don't approve of what you do or what you have become, but you have come through now…and…I want you to be careful. I don't want it to be another four years before I see my grandson again."
"It won't be," the Hunter says, stepping forward to give her a hug.
"Just remember to be careful with Brigitte," Ravenwolf says. "Don't ever ask her to choose between you or her sister, or even between her sister and what you think is right or sensible. Those two have emotional ties far tighter than you would ever guess."
It's now dawn, and the red Escape is rolling down the dirt and gravel driveway. Standing by the cabin, Ravenwolf waves goodbye. Then she turns and walks in. Our view shifts to her living room. She goes to one of her trunks and opens it, pulling out a double barrel shotgun. She pulls out two shells and loads them into the gun, then pulls out four more and drops them in her coat pocket. The she goes and sits in a rocking chair, the only seat in the room not covered with journals. She starts to rock slightly and looks at her reflection in the window.
"Well life," she says. "It's been nice knowing you."
Ginger turns and looks over her shoulder. We see through the rear window the cabin, and in front of it Ravenwolf is waving goodbye. Ginger waves back, then turns and faces the front even as the Escape turns a corner and the cabin and Ravenwolf vanish from sight.
"Why isn't she coming with us?" Ginger asks the Hunter.
"I thought you didn't like her anymore," the Hunter says.
"Well, I think I do like her again," Ginger says. "She's a talkative know-it-all (by the way I thought you guys were all supposed to be taciturn), but she's got attitude, and I like attitude. Ask B."
The Hunter glances at Brigitte but before he can say anything, she says:
"Ginger likes attitude."
The Hunter looks up at the rear view mirror.
"'You guys were all?'" he says.
"Huh?" Ginger says.
"You just stereotyped him and his grandmother," Brigitte says. "That's offensive. You should apologize to him."
"Yeah it is offensive, although not necessarily to me" the Hunter says. "Besides, you were just saying you like her, so that kind of takes the sting out of it."
"Sorry," says Ginger, who then turns to Brigitte. "Anybody else find it odd that a couple of killers are talking about being polite and politically correct?"
"Actually, politeness is more important between killers, because by definition the risks of being impolite to a killer can be final," the Hunter says.
The Hunter turns the steering wheel to the right, and we briefly shift our view to the Escape turning right on a paved road. Then our view shifts back to the interior of the vehicle. The Hunter's attention is now very much on the road in front of him. He starts to speak without turning around.
"You have to remember, though, that my grandmother has been waiting to talk to the two of you for 55 years. Over that time, she came up with a lot to say."
"So usually she's not such a blabbermouth?" Ginger says.
"Nope," the Hunter says. "Usually I have to carry the conversation. She's usually more of a 'walk softly and carry a big stick' type."
The black van comes up Ravenwolf's driveway. It stops, and James gets out of the driver's side. Rowlands comes out the front passenger door.
James makes a face.
"I smell them," James says. "Ginger and Brigitte were right here, not much more than an hour or two ago."
Rowlands nods.
"There's someone still here," he says. "She'll know where they went, although I already know where they are going."
Rowlands turns to Claude and Danielle as they exit the back of the van.
"Hearing and smell," he says. "What do they tell you?"
Danielle steps forward and sniffs the air, then cocks her head, canine fashion, and listens.
"One person is in there, human, female, and older," Danielle says. "She's alone."
Danielle licks her lips.
"Anything else?" Rowlands asks. "Claude?"
"Yeah, there's something else, I smell a g…Danielle, wait!" Claude says.
"I'll pull her ass out there for you, Colonel!" Danielle says right before she kicks the door open. The bolted lock is torn loose from the wooden frame, and the upper hinge is twisted by the impact. Danielle starts to walk through the now wide open door.
"You!" we hear Danielle's voice loudly say. "Come on out here before I-"
The human voice is replaced by a startled lupine growl, followed by the hollow boom of a shotgun. Danielle falls back out of the doorway flat on her back. Her head is a bloodied mess and her face is gone.
Claude's eyes go wide in startled horror. He growls and starts to move forward, but Rowlands right hand reaches out and restrains him at chest level. Claude looks at Rowlands and growls. Rowlands looks back at him mildly.
"James, what's the first lesson I taught you all about black ops?" Rowlands asks.
"Never assume that human meat with a gun isn't dangerous, even when it appears to be weak," James says.
"Using a shotgun much like the one she has now, the woman in there blew the head off of a werewolf in chrysalis when she was 19 years old," Rowlands says. "And over the years, there were others. Danielle was not so impressive."
Claude turns and looks at Rowlands.
"You knew this was going to happen!" Claude says, his voice expressing mingled disbelief and rage.
"I knew this would happen if Danielle failed to learn the lessons I taught and repeated to her many times," Rowlands says. "She has no one to blame but herself, and you have no one to blame but her. Natural selection has taken its course."
"If you are so OK with 'natural selection' taking its course, why did you let Ginger accompany and protect Brigitte after you gave her a solo mission?" Claude asks angrily. "Danielle may not have been brilliant, but she was a damned sight better at operations than little 'B'."
"He has a good point, Colonel," James says.
"Only if I acknowledge he does," Rowlands says. "There is only one alpha here, and in the end only the alpha decides what points are valid."
Claude growls and stares as if he is going to challenge Rowlands. Rowlands looks back at Claude as if he had just issued an intemperate complaint about the weather. Claude picks up on Rowlands self assurance and immediately backs down. Tears start to roll down his face, and he turns his head away.
"Jesus, Claude," James says. "You're crying over her? It's not like she was worth it."
"Be quiet, James," Rowlands says. "Let the man grieve."
Suddenly, we hear Ravenwolf's voice call loudly from the cabin.
"Excuse me, Wallace," she says. "As a favor to an older woman who's hearing is no longer so good, could you bring your conversation inside so that we can all participate?"
"We don't want to end up like our friend did, Sara!" Rowlands calls back.
"Then come in nice and politely with your hands where I can see them, Wallace," Ravenwolf says. "Is John with you?"
"He couldn't make it," Rowlands says. James and Claude look at one another. James raises an eyebrow, and Claude shakes his head and wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve.
"With Danielle gone, we have to recover the Fitzgerald sisters," Claude whispers to James. "They're the only females we have left."
"Well," says James. "Except for Rowlands' alpha."
Claude jerks his head towards the cabin.
"I don't think that's her in there," Claude says. "Unless Wallace intends to bite her. It better not be. I want to be the one to tear out her throat."
Ginger is asleep in the back seat, and the Hunter is still driving.
Brigitte is looking out the passenger window, as if debating whether to say something.
"I'm worried about your grandmother," Brigitte says. "If Rowlands decides to look for us…"
"He won't," the Hunter says. "I sent him the picture."
"The picture?" Brigitte says.
"The same picture I sent to Roskoff," the Hunter says. "The one of you two dead."
Ginger opens her eyes.
"Jesus Christ!" she says. "You think Rowlands is going to be satisfied with a cell phone picture? We're infected. He's going to want the bodies."
"We think he's gong to be looking in the penthouse first," the Hunter says. "There will be charred human female remains in there."
"Who?" Brigitte asks.
"Angel Rivera, his maid," the Hunter says. "Roskoff tore her to pieces."
Brigitte closes her eyes.
"Shit," she says. "That's where the blood on the robe came from."
"That's not going to satisfy Rowlands," Ginger says. "It's not going to take him long to make the connection between you and your grandmother, especially since he knows your grandmother. We have to turn back. We have to get her out of there!"
Silent tears start to come out of the Hunter's eyes, rolling down the cheeks on his otherwise stoic face.
"No," he says.
"No?" Ginger yells. "What the fuck do you mean no? Do you know what Rowlands will do to her? We can't fucking leave her there!! Turn the car the fuck around!! Now!"
"I made an oath, a blood oath," the Hunter says. "To see you both safely to your destinies."
"Fuck the fucking oath, Hunter, that's your grandmother back there!!!!" Ginger yells as she starts to try to climb over the seat.
Brigitte turns and puts her hand gently on Ginger's arm. Ginger looks at her sister, her eyes wide and frantic.
"Help me stop him, B!" she says. "We have to turn back!"
"Shhhhhh, Ginger," Brigitte says.
"What the fuck, B?" Ginger says.
"I made the oath to my grandmother," the Hunter says. "When I was 7 years old. When I called her and told her that I'd seen the two of you at the club, the first thing she did was remind me of it. Even if she was still alive when we got back and we saved her, she would never forgive me for breaking it."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Ginger says. "It's your grandmother! Turn the fucking car around. Let her be pissed at you!"
"Ginger," Brigitte says to her sister, her tone practically a whisper. "They knew, they both knew when they sent us on our way."
"B," Ginger says, her voice soft and miserable. "We're not worth her life. I'm not worth her life."
"That's her decision to make, not yours," the Hunter says.
"She should have come with us," Ginger says.
"I agree with Ginger," Brigitte says. "Why did your grandmother stay back?"
The Hunter shakes his head, his voice still impassive, but his voice straining with emotion.
"We lied to each other," the Hunter said. "Each telling the other that Rowlands thought you two were dead, that he wouldn't come for you or us. We also lied to each other about why she stayed back. That she would slow us down. That she wasn't up to the trip. But that wasn't it. She wants one last conversation with Rowlands. She wants to take her shot at stopping him."
"That's fucking insane!" Ginger yells. "Rowlands was a professional killer before he became a werewolf!"
"You would be surprised at what my grandmother can do," the Hunter says. "There was a lot about herself she didn't tell you. It's entirely possible Rowlands won't make it past her."
"You really believe that?" Brigitte asks.
"At this particular moment in time, I can still hope," the Hunter says.
Ginger sits back in her seat, her eyes haunted. Tears continue to come down her face. They are also falling silently down the cheeks of both Brigitte and the Hunter.
"son…of…a…fucking…bitch," Ginger whispers hollowly.
Our view switches to the red Escape as it glides quietly along the road. Then we fade to black.
Rowlands, James, and Claude enter into the cabin single file.
"Stay together," Rowlands says. "With that shotgun, she's guaranteed to get at least two of us before we can separate, and she's also very good with the revolver on her lap. Whichever one of us survives might be able to get her before she gets the gun up, but success is not guaranteed."
Ravenwolf holds the shotgun to her shoulder, keeping all three men in her sights.
"You flatter me, Wallace," Ravenwolf says.
"I simply speak the truth, Sara," Rowlands says.
"You care to tell us why you are on a first name basis with this woman, Wallace?" James asks.
"This is Dr. Sara Ravenwolf," Rowlands says. "She was the first biologist to study the lycanthropy pathogen. Dr. Murphy and I were her students. She's a brilliant scientist. Unfortunately, she is also a superstitious fucking savage."
"I prefer to think of myself as a complete, well rounded person," Ravenwolf says.
Rowlands nods slightly.
"Sara," he says. "I would like to introduce you to my pack. James Munroe, Claude de Perac, and…"
Rowlands carefully extends his right arm towards the doorway and Danielle's body, lying half in and half out.
"…the late Danielle Amour."
"Amour?" Ravenwolf says.
"Her old stage name," Rowlands says. "She legally changed it to her real name six months or so before she was bitten."
"Wallace," James says.
"I hear them," Rowlands says. "Sirens. Well played, Sara, I assume you called the police and said you had intruders?"
"About twenty minutes before you got here," Ravenwolf says. "It's pretty remote out here, I knew they would take awhile."
"It won't work, Sara," says Rowlands. "Four bodies clustered in and in front of the doorway? It will look like murder. Not to mention, how will you make sure that the coroner and his staff are not infected?"
"Her staff, actually," Ravenwolf says. "They're good about observing universal precautions, which I remind you are an effective barrier against the pathogen, which won't long survive its hosts' deaths anyway."
"We'll get through this," Rowlands says mildly. "And I will get my girls back. And I look forward to matching myself against your grandson. He will be a worthy opponent."
"Wallace, there's so much you don't know," Ravenwolf says. "You're fighting destiny."
"You mean the prophecy of the Red and the Black?" Rowlands says. "Already know all about it."
Ravenwolf raises her head slightly from the sights of her shotgun.
"How would you know about that?" Ravenwolf says, her tone surprised. "I never…"
"…told me?" Rowlands finishes. "Sure you did, several times in fact. Your room is such a fucking mess you've never noticed the bugs I've had put under each inn and coffee table. I work for the government, Sara. I have all sorts of resources, and even after your resignation you were too valuable to ignore. I've listened to every bit of your pillow talk with John Murphy. I allowed your relationship to keep going because it benefited me. Sometimes, when we were trying to improve the treatment and we hit a roadblock, John would leave and come back with a solution, a solution he got from you. Nevertheless, John's relationship with you was always a betrayal, a betrayal he has already paid the full price for."
Ravenwolf raises her head a little more from the sights of her shotgun.
"Murph?" she says, as our view switches to face on with James and Claude. Rowlands is no longer in the picture. There is a deep growl, and the second boom of the shotgun. Blood splashes on the clothes and faces of James and Claude. James' protrudes his tongue to lick some of the blood off of his cheek.
Our view pans back so that we see Rowlands, and the back of Ravenwolf in her chair. Rowlands is holding the smoking shotgun by the barrel in his right, fur covered, black clawed hand. His eyes are bright blue again, his ears are pointed, and his teeth are enlarged. His face and front are splashed with blood, and his left hand drips with it. He absently brings his left hand, also fur covered and clawed, to his mouth to lick it.
"I wanted to do that," Claude says.
"You were too slow," Rowlands says. "Get over it."
Rowlands looks down at Ravenwolf's corpse, his expression thoughtful and perhaps a little sad.
"Besides," he continues. "I owed it to her to be the one to do this."
"But now what?" James says. "You said she knew where Ginger and the fucktard are going."
"Yes," Rowlands says. "But so do I. There's only one place they can be going."
"Where's that?" asks Claude.
"Bailey Downs," Rowlands says. "The sisters are going home."
End Act 4