Sarah
The MO was the same as the others. Skin-walkers took over local pounds and then replaced the normal dogs with other walkers. When families adopted the skin-walkers, they would change the families thus multiplying a pack by four. Those who didn't comply ended up dead.
Sarah sat on the motel bed. The room was getting humid, the steam from the shower slowly filled the room. Sarah opened her laptop. The screen was how she had left it. She opened the internet tabs and scrolled to the Facebook page.
Checking up on her old family didn't make it easier to forget them and move on, but it gave her peace of mind. The four years she had spent on her own weren't all hunting her old pack. Two had been with a family of four. Robert and Clare Raleigh had taken in the stray collie and gave her a new home. They had two sons who were very active. She missed the Raleigh's. To Sarah, they were more of a family than Jeremy. The idea struck her as odd when she first thought it. Jeremy was her brother, a true member of her family and the Raleigh's thought of her as no more than a pet, but still, they had taken her in when no one would, even if they didn't know it.
The latest post on Clare's page was about her son graduating from kindergarten. Sarah closed the laptop as Jeremy stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and an ordinary black shirt.
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes, have everything ready." And without another word, Jeremy left. Sarah began preparations. Jeremy was off to the pound. It was routine of theirs to capture a skin-walker and gain some knowledge about the pack before attacking. Sarah cleared the sitting area of everything but a chair and straps. Then she proceeded to lay out an array of sliver knifes and ammunition. She loaded her gun with silver bullets and waited.
Not five minutes later, Jeremy returned with a golden retriever. Sarah locked the door behind them, then pulled out her gun. Jeremy let the leash go and did the same. The dog growled. "Silver bullets, my friend." Jeremy grinned. "Nasty stuff for you. Now why don't you change into a more talkative creature?"
Where the golden retriever once stood was now a naked man. Jeremy pushed him down into the chair and proceeded to bind him. "What do you want?" He asked.
"We want to know about the little operation you're running." Sarah said.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The man spat.
Jeremy laughed and picked up one of the silver knifes. "Don't you?"
The man eyed the blade and began to fidget with his bindings. "No, I don't." He didn't sound as confident.
"Look, we can do this the hard way or the easy way." The man stayed silent. Jeremy reached forward and pricked the man's arm. The man winced. "That's just a taste of what's to come if you don't start talking." Again the man stayed silent.
Jeremy reached forward and cut along the man's arm from elbow to wrist. Sarah grimaced at the blood. It bothered her, but her brother never seemed fazed. The man released a howl and cursed Jeremy several times. "Care for another taste or would you like to talk?"
The man spat at Jeremy, which caused him to press the point of the blade into the man's shoulder. Another blood curdling howl was released. "Fine," panted the man. "I'll tell you." Jeremy set the blooded knife on the table. The stench of blood filled the room.
"Where is your pack leader? Who is he and who does he take orders from?" Sarah asked.
"The pack is based out of the old mill just outside of town. You'll find Michael there." Sarah let out a gasp. Michael was the skin-walker who had changed her. "As to whom he takes orders from, as far as I know he doesn't. Michael gives the orders."
Jeremy looked to Sarah. She nodded. "How many skin-walkers are there?"
"Fifty, at least," the man growled. "Michael has other packs bring in the newly changed and they get trained there."
"How long have you been a skin-walker?" Sarah asked.
"About a month." The man eyed Sarah. "Why are you hunting down your own kind?"
"Shut up," Jeremy spat before Sarah could answer. The man laughed.
"I see how it is," he said looking between us. Jeremy moved towards the man, blade in hand, and thrust it through his heart.