Copyright 2024 Blackwych Books

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.

Kindle edition

First published in September 2024

by Blackwych Books, London

The time has come. Blood must be spilled, and this time the wolves of Sobolton aren't going to stop until they get what they want. No-one is safe.

The Walker has finally returned to the pack after many years spent living among humans. Once the wolves have received the Walker's news, they realize that the entire town of Sobolton is defenseless. On the verge of seizing total power, Saint Thomas knows that he only has to deal with a few loose ends before he can finally achieve his destiny.

For many years, an ancient curse has held the wolves back. All Saint Thomas has to do now is make sure that this curse has been broken forever, and then he'll be able to lead his forces into Sobolton and seize the one person who might yet stand in the way of his ambitions. But has he reckoned without the fury of Lisa Sondnes? And what will happen when two formidable adversaries come face-to-face for a rematch?

Red-Eyed Nellie is the tenth book in the thirteen-part Horrors of Sobolton series, which tells the story of one small town's struggle to deal with the paranormal monstrosities on its doorstep. Each book tells a standalone story, but there are cliffhangers and readers are recommended to go through the series in order.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

Red-Eyed Nellie

(The Horrors of Sobolton book 10)

Chapter One

Sobolton, USA – 1969...

“Isn't it incredible?” Nancy said softly, flat on her back in a clearing in the forest, staring up at the moon in the night sky. “Think about it, Jason. Right now there are men walking around on there. Doesn't that thought just blow your mind?”

“Do you think I'd make a good astronaut one day?” he asked, on the ground next to her but far more interested in watching the side of her face. “Would you like to be married to an astronaut? You wouldn't be bored while I went off on missions, would you?”

“Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?” she replied with a faint smile, still keeping her eyes fixed on the moon. “I just feel like we're at the start of something amazing. I bet within ten years there's a whole city on the moon, and that'll be just the start. By the year 2000 we'll have men on Mars, and spaceships flying out all over the place and... I bet we meet aliens, too. I just can't believe that we get to live in the most exciting period in all of human history.”

“You're beautiful,” he said, still looking at her face.

“You're supposed to be looking at the moon.”

“I'd rather look at the face of the woman I'm gonna marry.”

“We've been dating for six months, Jason,” she replied pointedly, sounding just a little irritated now. “Seriously, can you just cool it with the marriage talk? You're starting to feel like a bit of a drag. You need to learn to relax a little more.”

Finally she turned to him.

“And stop staring at me with those doting eyes,” she continued. “You look creepy right now and -”

Before she could finish, she heard a rustling sound in the bushes nearby. She immediately sat up, alert to the possibility that someone might be watching.

“It was probably a fox,” Jason told her, his eyes widening now that her bosom was almost directly in his face. “But I don't mind this view either, it's like two moons for the price of -”

“I think someone's watching us,” she told him.

“Don't be stupid.”

“Jason, can you be serious for one moment?” she continued. “I don't like this. What if it's the same maniac who killed Priscilla Parsons?”

“That nurse out at Middleford Cross?” Sighing, he sat up and looked over at the bushes. “Wasn't that three or four years ago?”

“But they never found out who did it.”

“If some freak wants to hide in the bushes and watch us, then that's on him,” he replied, before leaning closer and kissing the side of her arm. “You know, we could always give him something to really watch. It's a nice night and we don't often get away from town like this. I'd sure like to make use of the opportunity to just... really have some proper fun.”

He kissed her arm again.

“It must have been a possum,” he added.

“We don't get possums round here,” she pointed out.

“We don't get wolves, either,” he replied, “but my brother swears he spotted one last year while he was out hunting. Everyone laughed at him and told him he was imagining things, but I've never seen him more sure about anything in his entire life. He absolutely insists that he saw one, and do you know something else? I think I believe him.”

“I want to go back to town,” she said, getting to her feet.

“Nancy...”

“I want to go back to town, Jason,” she continued. “Are you gonna drive me, or am I gonna have to walk?”

***

They were still arguing half an hour later as they slid into a booth at the diner in the center of Sobolton. As Nancy complained that Jason never took her seriously, Jason in turn kept telling her that she needed to lighten up and have some fun. The pair of them were so wrapped up in their discussion that they completely failed to notice the woman sitting at the diner's other end, watching them with a faint smile.

“Here again?” a voice said suddenly.

Before she could reply, the woman's view of the arguing teens was blocked by a man taking a seat opposite her.

“I just want to be left alone,” she said wearily. “I thought -”

“You're making a habit of this, Clanath,” he replied with a faint smile. “It's like you'd rather spent your time in human form, hanging around in human places, instead of being out there in the forest with the rest of the wolves. Hell, if you keep this up, I might as well quit being the Walker and let you take over instead.”

“Would I be trusted as the Walker?”

“I doubt it.”

“I just like to see how they're getting along,” she continued. “The humans, I mean. Maybe I'm getting a little sentimental in my old age.”

“And how old are you, exactly?” he continued, leaning back in his seat as Nancy and Jason's argument ran on and on behind him. “Sorry, I know that's not the kinda question I should be asking a lady, but I heard you've been around for a hell of a long time. I know you went off wandering for many years, but since you rejoined the pack you've always seemed... slightly distant, somehow.”

“I'm older than I should be,” she admitted. “Connor, I just want a peaceful night. Don't you have anywhere else to be?”

“Like watching those people walking around on the moon?” he asked, turning and looking out the window. He watched the moon for a moment. “They get everywhere, don't they?” he added. “Humans, I mean. First they took our land, and then they expanded and took more and more of it. They took a huge chunk of our forest and our lake, and then they started digging our gold out of our land. And then, just when we thought they couldn't take more, they literally flew up there to the moon in the sky and started taking things from there too.”

“They're ambitious,” she replied. “That's what I've always liked about them.”

“There's ambition and then there's greed,” he replied through gritted teeth, still looking up at the moon. “Our kind has always had a special affinity for the moon. Now, whenever we look at it, it's tainted. We know they're scrabbling about on it.”

“Aren't you being a bit dramatic?”

“Why did you come back, Clanath?” he added, turning to her. “I mean why did you really come back? Don't give me that crap about missing the pack, because you clearly don't give a damn about the pack at all. You went away long before I was born, before most of us were around. Why did you finally come back to Sobolton after all these years?”

“I didn't go far,” she told him. “I was still around, I just... preferred my own company.”

“Because?”

“Because for a long time, I was sick of everything,” she told him. “Wolf and human alike.”

“I heard you've been hanging around with Turncoat.”

“That's not his name.”

“It's what we all call him,” he pointed out. “He even calls himself that now. The king has three children. There's Michael, there's Saint Thomas and there's... Turncoat.”

“His name -”

“One of them's going to be king in his own right eventually,” Connor reminded her. “Do you fancy getting in on that action? Is that why you came back and started acting all friendly with Turncoat? Are you thinking you could finally get to be a princess, or even a queen?”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” she replied. “As usual.”

“I know when someone's lying,” he said firmly, fixing her with a determined stare. “As the Walker, it's my job to keep an eye on what's happening here in the human world. And since you're spending a great deal of time with the humans, that makes keeping an eye on you part of my remit too. So you can expect me to show up a lot more, Clanath. Hell, you and I might even become friends of a sort.”

“I doubt that very much,” she replied, peering past him and watching as Jason stormed out, leaving Nancy sitting alone in one of the booths. “The humans are just so fascinating, and complicated too. Sometimes I just feel like I want to watch them forever. Sometimes...”

Her voice trailed off for a moment as she saw Nancy – with tears in her eyes – storming out of the diner and hurrying away after Jason.

“In some ways they're complicated and in other ways they're so simple,” she continued, turning to watch the two teens as they argued outside in the parking lot. “And then sometimes they go and do something completely crazy and surprising like launching themselves all the way up to the moon.”

“What are you hiding from, Clanath?” Connor asked.

“Nothing,” she said tensely, immediately getting to her feet. “Nothing at all. Even even if I was, it sure as hell wouldn't be any of your business.”

Chapter Two

Today...

“Nellie, you've done it again.”

As she steered her car along the seemingly endless country road, Agent Penelope 'Nellie' Chandler happened to glance at her own eyes reflected in the mirror. She instantly saw that she was once again a little puffy and reddened, and she felt a flat sense of shame as she thought back to her behavior during the previous evening. Having agreed to stop by Sobolton, she'd spent the rest of the day finishing up her work at the field office before promising herself that she was going to have a quiet night. Then, as usual, she'd drunk herself into a stupor and yet again she'd woken up with only a few vague memories.

Now, as she spotted a sign for Sobolton, she was at least relieved that the pain-killers had taken the edge off her pounding headache.

A moment later she spotted several workmen standing around in the middle of the road, seemingly guarding a set of works fronted by a large warning sign. Sighing, she slowed the car and pulled up in front of the men, and then she waited as one of them wandered over.

“Good morning,” he said, leaning down and leering at her. “I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this particular road is closed at the moment.”

“Has there been an accident?” she asked.

“No, not exactly,” he replied. “It's more... we're doing some work on the bridge about a quarter of a mile up ahead.”

“I didn't see that on my phone.”

“Why would you see it on a phone?” he asked, before shaking his head. “Anyway, you can't go this way, I'm afraid. You're just going to have to turn around and head back the way you came.”

“What's the next best way to get into Sobolton?”

“Well,” he said with a very heavy, very labored sigh, “that's a tricky question. Why exactly would you be needing to go there on this fine day?”

“I just do, that's all,” she replied, bristling slightly at the question. “I guess I'll have to find a different route.”

“Actually, they're all closed right now,” he explained.

“I'm sorry?”

“All the roads into Sobolton are closed,” he said, as the other workmen began to approach. “It's a crazy thing, huh? I guess you could call it bad luck, but there's no getting around it.”

“All the roads are closed?” she replied, struggling to believe a word he was saying. “You can't be serious. All the roads going into Sobolton can't be closed, that's just a completely ludicrous idea. And I definitely didn't see anything about that on my phone. Who exactly do you work for? What department is responsible for these closures?” She waited for a reply, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her badge. “My name is Agent Chandler and I'm here on F.B.I. business. I'm going to need you to show me some identification of your own, and a copy of your authorization for these works.”

She waited, but now the man was simply staring at her.

“Well?” she continued finally, as she felt her headache starting to return. “I don't have all day. Do you have the required authorization or not?”

***

Ten minutes later, driving back the other way along the road, Penelope suddenly felt a brief, sharp pain in her head.

“What the -”

Pulling over, she brought the car to a stop and waited as the pain began to pass. Her head had been throbbing all morning and the painkillers seemed to be wearing off. She knew it was too soon to take more, but part of her really wanted to just drown the pain in more and more pills. And then, as she sat in her car and tried to make a decision, she found herself wondering exactly where she was going.

“I'm sorry, Ma'am,” she remembered the man at the roadblock saying, “but my boss would be the one with the paperwork and he's not here right now. You're just going to have to turn around and leave.”

Which is exactly what she'd done, except now she found herself wondering why she'd been so easily talked out of her plans. She'd been so determined to go to Sobolton, especially when the guy at the roadblock had told her that she couldn't, and then somehow all that determination had faded to nothing and she'd ended up meekly driving away. Shocked by her own failure, she tried to understand exactly why she'd given up so easily, but she was starting to feel as if the guy had somehow got into her thoughts and had manipulated her into leaving.

“Have a nice day!” she remembered him calling after her as she'd turned the car around. “Drive safe!”

There had been something so utterly slick about that man, but also something slightly menacing. The more she thought about the encounter, the more she found herself shocked by her own behavior. Grabbing her phone, she checked the route again, but there was still absolutely no sign of any roadworks or blockages on any of the routes into Sobolton. As the pain continued to percolate in her head, occasionally erupting with brief stabbing sensations, she stared at the screen and tried to make sense of everything that had happened, and then she tapped to check her own timeline.

“What the...”

Staring at the list, she was shocked to see that apparently she'd driven to that same roadblock not once, not twice but three times. The timeline showed that fact very clearly now, and she was starting to remember the same thing too. She'd been turned away three times at the exact same roadblock, and now – sitting in her vehicle at the side of the road – she began to wonder just how she'd been persuaded to forget that fact.

“There's hungover,” she whispered, “and then there's... this.”

She tried to come up with a rational explanation, but she knew deep down that there couldn't be one at all. Somehow the guys at the roadblock had tricked her into forgetting how many times she'd been there, and she was starting to think back to everything Mendelson had told her over the phone about Sobolton.

“The same thing keeps happening over and over,” he'd explained. “People make an initial report claiming that they can't contact this or that friend or relative in Sobolton, but then they stop caring. They just give up. Meanwhile delivery trucks are turning around, and the drivers can't quite explain what happened when they get back to their depots. And when I contacted some ISPs, I was told that even internet traffic seems to be somehow getting bounced back.”

Something similar seemed to be happening now, except that it was happening inside her own head. Shocked and a little concerned, Penelope was already starting to feel as if the situation at Sobolton might require some back-up, but she figured that nobody would take her claims seriously so far. She wanted to turn around and drive to the roadblock again, to demand this time to be let through, but she had a vague feeling that she'd done that two times already, in which case how could she be sure that she wouldn't just be tricked into leaving again?

“Sobolton's got a weird atmosphere,” Mendelson had told her, and now his words were echoing in her mind. “There's something not right about the place, and I just can't get it out of my head. You must know what I mean. Some towns, especially the smaller ones out in the middle of nowhere, have a tendency to feel pretty strange. Sobolton's like that, but on steroids.”

She turned and looked back along the road.

“Could you do me a favor?” Mendelson had asked. “Whenever I try to get in touch with someone in Sobolton, the same thing happens to me. I kind of... lose any sense of urgency. The point is, I think someone needs to actually go down there and see what's going on.”

After thinking for a moment longer, she switched the engine off and climbed out of the car. Stepping around to the rear, she pulled out a bag and searched for a few seconds before finding a pair of trainers. She changed her shoes, so that she was wearing something more suitable for rougher terrain, and then she shut the car door and turned to look at the forest. By her estimation, Sobolton should be only a few miles away, and she figured that if the roads were impassable, that really left her with only one option.

Once she was sure that she had everything she needed, she picked her way through the bushes and climbed up the narrow slope that led between the trees. One way or another, she was determined to get to Sobolton, and she felt her sense of determination becoming stronger as she began to set off through the gloomy forest.

Chapter Three

Sobolton, USA – 1973...

Making her way along a dark alley that ran behind McGinty's, Clanath accidentally knocked a beer bottle that had been left on the ground near a dumpster; the bottle tipped over and rolled, rattling loudly for a few seconds before bumping to a halt against the wall.

Loud music was playing in the bar, blaring out through an open window at the back of the building. Stopping to listen, Clanath made sure to stay out of the electric glow as she listened to excited voices arguing drunkenly with one another. Humans seemed endlessly capable of entertaining themselves, and while many of her brethren tended to look down upon the people of Sobolton, Clanath found them strangely endearing. And although she would never in a million years admit such a thing to another living soul, there was a part of her that wondered whether the human experience of life might in fact be greater.

“I thought they were going to finish me off,” she remembered Henry Sobolton saying to her once, hundreds of years earlier.

“They could have, easily,” she'd replied, filled with sadness as she'd tried to work out how to do her duty. “If it had been that simple, however, you would have been dead long before now. It doesn't just matter to them that you die. They also care how your end comes.”

As the music continued, she tried to force herself to stop thinking about the past. In truth, memories of that brave but foolish man had never stopped gnawing away at the edge of her mind. She replayed the moment of his death over and over – perhaps a thousand times every day – and she tried to remind herself that she had only done what was strictly necessary. Still, that instant had haunted her ever since and had been largely responsible for driving her away from the pack. Now that she was back, however, she found that the memories were so much stronger.

“What would you think?” she whispered now. “What would you say if you could see what your little settlement has become?”

She heard glass breaking somewhere in the distance, and the sound of a police siren. Although she knew that she should get going, that she should return to the forest and stop hanging around in the human world, part of her wanted to remain in the dirty, grimy town for as long as possible. Sure, the rest of the pack would gossip about her reasons, but she had no interest in their courtly intrigue. Instead, even at her advanced age, she wanted to breathe deeply among the humans and take in every aspect of their scent, to enjoy the chaos they conjured in life.

She couldn't admit the truth – not even to herself – but part of her wished she could have been born into the human world all along.

***

“Another drink!” Ted Donarchie yelled, slamming his empty glass down onto the bar. “Come on, what's taking so long? A man could die of thirst round these parts!”

“Hold your horses,” Andie replied as she started pouring him another beer. “At the rate you're knocking these down, Ted, it's a wonder you've got any liver left at all.”

Chuckling, Ted turned and looked along the bar. He'd noticed Clanath from the moment she'd entered, and he'd been watching her on and off; he'd seen her a few times before, and he knew that she always sat alone with a solitary non-alcoholic drink that she barely touched. Usually he just let her be, figuring that she wanted to ignored, but on this occasion he'd mixed his own drinks just a little too much, emboldening him as he sidled over and stopped next to her.

“Well,” he said with a leering grin, “what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a rundown hellhole like this?”

She turned to him.

“Cheer up,” he continued, “a smile never cost anything.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she really didn't want to be bothered, but at the last second she realized that something about him was strangely fascinating. In theory, he was everything she should hate in a human: he was loud, big, boisterous, red-faced and a little breathless, with terrible skin and a tendency to spray saliva whenever he talked. He stank of sweat and his eyes were a little yellowy, and his grin revealed stained and discolored teeth. Any wolf from the pack would laugh at the guy – and a fair few humans might as well – yet in that instant Clanath saw through the mask and realized that there was a fundamental decency to this human that shone as brightly as the sun.

“I'll leave you alone,” he muttered, turning to walk away. “I didn't mean to be a total -”

“No, it's fine,” she told him, surprising herself with her openness. “I was just... thinking about things.”

“I try not to think too much,” he replied. “I find it tends to get me down.”

“You might have the winning strategy there.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, before he held out a sweaty hand.

“Ted,” he told her. “Or Edward. Never Eddie. Ted Donarchie.”

“Clanath,” she replied, shaking his hand.

“Clanath?” he said, clearly amused by her name. “Where's that from? It almost sounds Irish.”

“It might be, in a roundabout way,” she admitted. “To be honest, I've never much thought much about it.”

“I've seen you in here a lot, Clanath,” Ed continued. “I never tried talking to you much before, because I could tell you wanted to be left alone, but tonight I've had just a little too much to drink. More than I usually have, anyway.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but in that moment she picked up a whiff of his stale, rotten breath. Her first instinct was to pull away, yet she hesitated as she realized that there was one particular strand of that foul smell that had already caught her attention.

Death.

The man before her was dying, he was being eaten alive by some form of cancer – even if he didn't know it yet.

“I'm in here most nights,” Ed explained as Andie set a beer onto the counter next to him. “If I didn't show up two nights in a row, I reckon they'd send out a search party to try to find me.”

“They must like you,” she suggested.

“Nah,” he laughed, “they just like my money.”

He turned to look over at the men sitting at the far end of the bar.

“Guys, did you hear that?” he called out. “This lady's under the impression that you actually like me!”

The men immediately started laughing.

“If you want to believe that, Ted,” Andie shouted, “then go ahead. It's not my job to make you see sense!”

“Why are they so horrible to you?” Clanath asked as he turned to her again.

“It's just joking around,” he explained. “It's a little bit of... friendly joshing. Everyone in here gets along well enough, but none of us really want to admit it. The truth is, I think they're a little jealous of me. I get to drive around all over the state, selling -”

Before he could finish, he started coughing heavily.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, covering his mouth as he turned away.

Listening to his continued coughs, which were being ignored by everyone else as the music played, Clanath couldn't help thinking that he sounded desperately unhealthy. She wondered why nobody cared enough to force him to see a doctor, although the slightly stale smell wafting from his clothes suggested to her that he lived alone. She waited for his coughing fit to pass, watching as his hunched back shuddered again and again, and finally he wiped his mouth on a handkerchief before turning to her again. She couldn't see the handkerchief very well, but she felt sure that it must have at least a few specks of blood.

“That'll be the smokes,” he said, briefly pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket to show her, then sliding them away again. Somehow the coughing had dislodged a speck of mucus, which now glistened in the hairs of his left nostril. “I probably oughta pack 'em in, some people say they're not too good for you, but...”

He took a big swig of beer, some of which dribbled down his unevenly-shaven face.

“Everyone's gotta have some fun in life, don't they?” he continued with a big, broad grin. “Otherwise, what's the point of being here at all?”

“Indeed,” she replied, unable to shake a sense of desperate sadness as she once again picked up the odor of death. “You're quite the thinker, Mr. Donarchie. I'm not entirely sure that your philosophy of life is all that wrong.”

Chapter Four

Today...

“Are you going back already?” Saint Thomas asked, standing on the walkway as late morning light streamed through the forest. “You seem keen to return to the human world.”

“Someone'll miss me eventually,” Carolyn replied as she stopped in front of him. “It was pretty chaotic in town when I left yesterday, so I didn't have any trouble slipping away. I need to see what they've been up to overnight.”

“How sure are you that they don't have the pendant?”

“I told you, I'm certain.”

“This is important,” he continued. “If I lead the pack down there and that thing shows up, someone might use it to -”

Before he could finish, she leaned closer and kissed him; the kiss lasted for several seconds before she pulled back.

“You worry too much,” she told him, looking deep into his eyes. “You know that, right? Besides, that pendant probably never even existed in the first place.”

“Oh, it definitely existed,” he replied. “The stories -”

“The stories are probably just stories,” she countered quickly. “At most, they're heavy exaggerations of something that may or may not have happened many years ago, and the details have been twisted over the centuries. Think about it, if the humans possessed something that could be used to wipe us out, then why didn't they use it already? Why didn't they take a more proactive approach and come out here to get us? It doesn't usually take much provocation for them to grab their guns and round up a posse.”

She waited for a reply, but she could tell that she was getting through to him.

“My predecessor Connor never discovered the pendant's location when he was the Walker,” she continued, “and as far as I can tell nobody claims to have laid eyes on the thing since the nineteenth century. What was the name of the last Walker it killed?”

“Huddlestone,” he reminded her. “Ignacious Huddlestone was the fourth Walker. He watched over the people of Sobolton for many years before he was cruelly murdered by one of the humans.”

“And he was the last Walker who claimed to have any knowledge of the pendant's location,” she pointed out. “Do you know where I think it is? I think it's in the ground. I think it got lost, and then it was trodden into the dirt, and then somebody probably came along and built something on top of it. Hell, I wouldn't mind better than it's several meters below the foundations of the sheriff's station itself. How's that for irony?”

“But we can't be sure,” he said darkly.

“You just can't accept that your chance has arrived,” she told him. “That's your big problem. Sobolton's sitting there undefended and open, and you're actually scared to go and do what our ancestors only dreamed of.”

“I'm not scared of anything!” he snapped angrily. “Remember who you're talking to!”

“Our dead king's less-favored son?” she said with a grin. “I could feel your fury last night while we were -”

Before she could finish, he slapped her hard. She took a step back, reaching up and touching the side of her face, and for a moment she glared at him with indignation.

“You shouldn't have provoked me like that,” he told her. “I'm sorry, but you need to show me a little more respect.”

“You're not so different to Michael, are you?” she reminded him. “You know, when I'm in the town and I'm sitting at my desk and being all sweet to people, I often forget that I'm the Walker. There are little tricks I do to get fully into character. Sometimes I can go whole days pretending that I'm just some dumb human. But occasionally I get thinking about what's going on with our pack, and I can't help wondering what would have happened if Michael had lived, and if he'd decided to take his place on the throne. Where would that have left you, Saint Thomas?”

“It doesn't matter,” he replied, “because none of that happened.”

“I guess it was very convenient for you that all your opponents were removed,” she continued. “First Clanath and Turncoat, then Michael. Now you're unchallenged... well, except for a little girl who technically might have the greatest claim on the throne. But then, you're in the middle of getting rid of her as well, aren't you? And then you'll be the mighty king, taking the place of your father.”

“Enjoy your walk back to Sobolton,” he sneered, unable to hide a sense of disgust. “And remember, soon I'll be in complete control, and once the town has been destroyed we won't even need a Walker. When that moment comes, it would be wise for you to be in my good books.”

“More threats,” she said airily as she turned and walked away, putting up her hood as she left. “You're really so very predictable, Saint Thomas, aren't you? I hope for your sake that when the time comes, you're able to back those threats up with action.”

***

Picking his way through the forest, Saint Thomas struggled to contain the anger that even now was rippling through his body and threatening to burst out. In his wolf form he usually burned through the anger by running, but in his human form the anger instead stayed trapped and constrained, struggling to find some way out. He couldn't help but wonder how humans were ever able to exist in such pathetic bodies.

Finally, unable to stop himself, he turned and let out an angry snarl as he punched a nearby tree. Wincing, he looked down at his knuckles and saw that they were bleeding, although the flesh quickly regrew.

“Saint Thomas?”

He turned to see that one of the others had made his way over, still in his human form and wearing some kind of garish uniform.

“I was told you'd come out this way,” Austin said. “Listen, this is probably nothing, but I thought you should know as soon as possible. We had another car show up at the roadblock a little while ago, and the woman claimed to be an agent from the F.B.I.”

“So?” Saint Thomas asked. “Did you send her on her way?”

“Of course, but she came back. So we sent her away again, and then she came back for a third time.”

“Couldn't you get into her head properly?”

“I tried, but her mind was a total mess. She was still suffering from the effects of alcohol, and she was loaded up on painkillers. I think that's why the usual tricks didn't work on her.”

“So kill her and then send away anyone who comes asking questions.”

“I would have done, but after the third time she didn't return.”

“Then she's gone,” Saint Thomas replied, sounding increasingly exasperated. “Why are you troubling me with this stuff?”

“I got suspicious, so I went along the road for a few miles,” Austin explained. “I found her car abandoned next to the forest, and although my senses are dulled when I'm in my human form, I could tell that she'd wandered off between the trees. There was no sign of her, either, so she must have gone a long way. There was nothing obviously wrong with her car, so it's clear she decided to try to reach the town on foot.”

“And you said she's an F.B.I. agent, right?”

“Do you want me to go after her?” he asked. “I thought I'd check first, because it'd mean reverting to my wolf form and... well, you know that's a lot of faffing about and it's not entirely comfortable, plus it means finding somewhere to put my clothes and -”

“No,” Saint Thomas said, interrupting him, “you did the right thing by coming to tell me.” He thought for a moment, allowing himself a slight smile. “There are still a few hours to go before I'll be ready for us to make our move against the humans. Ordinarily I wouldn't bother to waste my time on a lone woman in the forest, but if she's from the F.B.I. she might be a little more interesting. In fact, I might even be able to use her to make a point.”

“She didn't strike me as being very tough,” Austin explained, “but there was so much alcohol in her system, and so many painkillers too, that I couldn't really get a proper read on her. Still, she didn't seem particularly dangerous.”

“Leave her to me,” Saint Thomas replied. “I could use a little distraction for an hour or two, especially after all the nonsense I had to listen to from the Walker. Get back to that roadblock and make sure no-one else comes through. I'm going to go out there and deal with our friend from the F.B.I., and I'm gonna make sure that I enjoy myself in the process. After all, I've always enjoyed playing with my food.”

Chapter Five

Sobolton, USA – 1976...

“Here we go,” Clanath said, struggling to hold Ted up as she finally managed to get him through the door to his apartment, then flicking the lights on before helping him over to the sofa. “Are you ready? I want you to sit down on the count of three. Ready? One -”

Before she could get another word out, Ted lurched away from her and slammed down onto the sofa with such force that the frame creaked and a few springs could be heard breaking.

“Two,” Clanath said with a sigh. “Three.”

“Thank you!” he murmured, too drunk to speak clearly as he remained face-down on the sofa. “You're a doll! Did anyone ever tell you that? You're a real doll!”

“Thank you,” she replied, clearly unimpressed.

“You -”

He broke into another coughing fit.

“You really should get that looked at,” she told him. “I've been saying that ever since we first met three years ago.”

“You know,” he continued once the coughing was over, slurring his words more than ever now, “I think we should make a pact. If we're both still single in... five minutes... we should get married.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she told him, turning to leave before stopping as she saw various framed photos on the bookshelves, “but I'm already taken.”

“You are?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled since his face was still pressed firmly against the sofa cushions. “Aw, crap. I didn't see a ring on your finger.”

“It's complicated,” she said, heading over to the shelves and looking at various pictures that had been taken of Ted over the years. Almost immediately, she was able to see a staggering progression from a young, happy-looking guy to the over-sized alcoholic who even now was trying and failing to sit up. “Then again,” she added, “that hardly makes it unique. Everyone's complicated.”

“Not me,” he murmured. “I work, I eat, I drink and I sleep, and then I repeat. Simple, right?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, as the first tear appeared in her left eye. She was looking at a photo of a young Ted smiling at the camera. “I think I'd almost kill for that kind of existence.”

“What are you hiding from?”

She turned and looked over at him.

“What did you just ask me?” she said cautiously.

“I said...”

His voice trailed off for a moment.

“Huh,” he added, “I don't remember. I think it was...”

Again he fell silent, and a few seconds later he began to snore loudly.

“I'm not hiding from anything,” she said, sounding particularly defensive. “Why would I be doing that? You don't know what you're talking about.”

She waited, but his snores continued and finally she realized that he was completely out for the count. For a moment she wanted to simply leave, but after a few seconds she stormed over and grabbed him, waking him as she rolled him over and leaned down to look directly into his eyes.

“What -”

“I'm not hiding from anything!” she snarled angrily. “Why would you even ask me that? Why does everyone keep asking that stupid question?”

“I don't think I -”

“You know nothing about me!” she screamed, putting her hands around his throat and starting to squeeze tight. “Do you hear me? You know nothing about me at all, so why don't you shut your fat mouth and leave me alone?”

***

A while later, exhausted and almost in a daze, Clanath reached the end of another long dark street and stopped. She could see the edge of the forest ahead, and she realized that she had stood in this exact same spot once before.

“What are you doing, Henry?” she remembered asking Henry Sobolton all those years ago. “This is not the time to build anything. You have to leave.”

“I would rather die here than draw breath in any other place,” he'd replied.

“How can I better make you understand?” she'd continued. “There is no point building anything. They'll only tear it down when they arrive.” At that moment she'd first spotted the crude Soboltonland sign that he'd made, and she'd been horrified by his pathetic determination to keep working on his settlement. “You're wasting your time. You could do so much, you could really make a difference, just... not here.”

“Yet here is where I choose to make my home.”

“Henry -”

“Henry,” she whispered now, looking down at the asphalt beneath her feet and realizing that this was where Henry had first put up his sign.

A tear ran down her cheek as she felt the last of her anger fading away. She knew she'd been wrong to take it all out on poor Ted Donarchie, and part of her wanted to go back and apologize for leaving him in such a befuddled state; at the same time, she figured that she should just leave the poor man alone and that – with any luck – he'd wake up the next morning and assume that the whole encounter had just been an alcohol-fueled dream. Or, failing that, he might not even remember that she'd helped him home at all.

She looked at the forest ahead, and she knew that she needed to go back in there, yet still she couldn't bring herself to take even a single step forward.

Already, she could hear the bones rattling.

“It's not real,” she said under her breath, trying desperately to convince herself that the thing in the forest – the thing that lately had been coming for her – was all just a figment of her imagination. “It can't be real,” she continued. “The world is such a cruel place but... it's not that cruel.”

She swallowed hard, and deep down she already knew that she'd wasted too much time. Sure, she had a genuine affinity for the human world and for Soboltonland – or Sobolton, as if it was now known – in particular, but she understood that in many ways she was using that affinity as an excuse. She'd already spent so much time in the town, in her human form, that she wondered whether she might even have forgotten how to shift back to her true body; and while she knew nobody could ever truly forget such a thing, she realized now that she was simply delaying the inevitable.

And that's how, finally, she was able to start walking toward the forest.

“You're a sensible, rational being,” she said, using those words as a kind of mantra as she approached the darkness ahead. “You don't let yourself get caught up in foolish things. You're logical, and you're smart, and you absolutely refuse to fall into this pit of superstition and doubt. You won't let yourself be blinded to what's real and you can't be diverted onto a path of madness, and you never -”

Stopping at the side of the road, looking between the trees, she realized that she'd been speaking in an attempt to drown out any other possible sounds. Now she forced herself to listen, and she realized to her immense relief that she could hear nothing rattling out there in the darkness. The forest was just the forest and there was no sign of anything dangerous or wrong, and no hint of the one thing she feared most in all the world. Yet if that was the case, she found herself wondering why she'd begun to tremble with fear.

In the back of her mind, for a fraction of a second, she remembered the last time she'd dared to go into the forest at night.

“That won't happen again,” she told herself. “It can't. You're a wolf, you can't be afraid of the dark. There's nothing out there that can hurt you. The thing you saw last time was all in your head and you've...”

Her voice trailed off as she felt the fear returning; she could push that sensation out of her mind sometimes, but only for a few minutes at a time and it always came bursting back as soon as she let her guard down. For years now she'd been living in abject terror, too scared to venture far into the forest in case she encountered the thing that had once driven her away. She knew she had to face her fears, yet she still couldn't quite bring herself to go out there into the darkness.

“One night I'll do it,” she said finally, realizing that she'd failed yet again. “I swear, I just... I need more time. I need to be absolutely certain first that it's not real, and that it never has been.” Fresh tears were dancing in her eyes, and she told herself that she could try again the next day. “I can't take the risk that I might see it,” she added. “Even if it's not really there, I think it might destroy me completely.”

Chapter Six

Today...

“Come on, seriously, now is not the time.”

Standing in the forest, Penelope watched as her phone's screen continued to flicker and flash. She'd been trying to check the map, which she figured should work even if she lost signal, but instead the device appeared to be having some kind of electronic seizure. She tapped the side, hoping to perhaps jolt it back into action, but a moment later the screen switched off altogether.

“You've got to be kidding me,” she sighed, trying to turn the phone back on but finding that it suddenly seemed to be out of battery. “I charged you this morning. You should have loads of juice left.”

She tried a few more times to get the phone working, before muttering a few choice curse words under her breath as she slipped it away. Looking down, she saw that her trainers were now fairly muddy; she was glad that she'd thought to change her shoes, but her head was throbbing again and she felt annoyed that she hadn't remembered to bring any painkillers. She had a bottle of water, though, so she took a swig before looking at the forest ahead.

Although she'd wanted to check a map to be sure, she felt fairly certain that she was still going in the right direction, even if the prospect of walking for much longer in the forest didn't exactly fill her with joy. She'd never been much of an outdoors kind of person, and she hated the idea that there might be loads of bugs and insects around, but she figured she'd already come too far to turn back now. As she started walking again, however, she told herself that there was no way she could go all the way back; when she eventually reached Sobolton, she was going to have to find someone who was willing to drive her back to her car.

And then, stopping suddenly, she saw a wicker basket on the ground, resting on its side.

Glancing around, she checked that nobody else was nearby, and then she cautiously stepped closer to the basket. Reaching down, she slowly turned it over, and then she let out a shocked gasp as she saw a small piece of bloodied flesh resting at the bottom.

She checked yet again that she was alone, and then she crouched down and took a pair of tweezers from her pocket. Using the tweezers to pick the chunk of flesh up, she turned it around and tried to make sense of what she'd found, before finally realizing that she was looking at a severed human nose.

“What... the... hell?” she whispered, peering at the rough edges where the nose had been torn away from somebody's face.

Forcing herself to stay calm, she took out a small plastic evidence bag and slipped the nose inside. After sealing the bag, she placed it back into the basket, which itself appeared to be very ordinary and nondescript. She could see no blood on the wicker itself, suggesting that the nose must have been placed inside at some point long after it had been separated from its owner's face, although why such a thing would end up in the forest remained a mystery. She looked around again, worried now that the rest of the body might be around somewhere, although she also reasoned that a person could well lose their nose but still otherwise be alive and kicking.

“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone here? I'm an agent with the F.B.I. and if anyone's here, I need you to come out immediately and explain yourself.”

As she waited, she considered taking out her gun, although she was already fairly sure that she was alone. Finally, figuring that she had no real choice, she got to her feet and picked the basket up. The nose was still resting inside, in the plastic bag, but there was nothing else unusual anywhere around.

Finally, still puzzled by this development, Penelope set off again, hoping that she was going to get to Sobolton sooner rather than later.

***

And then the rain came.

Without any warning – and certainly very much against the weather forecast she'd checked before leaving Maddox that morning – the forest was hit by a rainstorm of such immense magnitude that Penelope immediately hurried over to try to take shelter beneath one of the trees. In truth, this provided almost no shelter at all, and within seconds she was utterly drenched.

Looking down into the basket, she saw rain hitting the plastic bag containing the nose.

“Great,” she muttered, already having to wipe matted hair from across her face. “This is just what I needed.”

As the rain continued, rivers of mud were starting to form. Looking out into the forest again, she realized that the already inhospitable landscape had now become completely hellish, and she began to wonder whether she was ever going to be able to get to the town. She'd been walking for a while now and, frankly, she was slightly worried that she hadn't spotted any sign of civilization. Although she was unable to check a map and be sure, she remembered from a cursory glance earlier that a road should loop around and cut through the forest, yet she'd come across no such road so far and at the back of her mind she worried that she might be lost.

“Ridiculous,” she said out loud, although she could barely hear her own voice over the sound of rain crashing down against the forest. “You all alone out here in the middle of nowhere and -”

Before she could finish, she realized that a light was just about visible somewhere up ahead. Struggling to see through the vast sheets of rain that were filling the forest, and which had also begun to darken the scene, she squinted as she tried to work out exactly what she was seeing. Part of her wasn't sure that such a miracle could be real, but sure enough she realized after a few seconds that she was looking at a slightly fuzzy rectangle of light. The more she stared, the more she felt that this rectangle could only be one thing.

“A window?” she whispered, scarcely able to believe her luck.

After looking around for a moment, she began to set off through the forest, struggling through puddles of mud that had already formed all across the ground. At first she tried to avoid the worst of those puddles, but she quickly found that this effort was hopeless; instead she simply waded through them, forcing herself forward step by step even as the puddles threatened to suck her feet down into their uncertain depths. A few times she had to reach out and grab a nearby branch so that she could pull herself ever onward, and finally she had to stop to get her breath back as she felt her calves burning with pain.

The light was much closer now, and she could see with absolute certainty that it was indeed a window. As rainwater ran down her face, she had to push more hair away from across her face.

As her eyes continued to adjust to the gloom, she was able to make out a small dark structure, perhaps a cottage or a small house. Another window was visible, with a little less of a glow on its other side, while a small chimney rose up from the gabled roof. Something about the little place immediately struck her as being strangely old-fashioned, almost like something from a child's nursery rhyme, but already she was starting to see a narrow stone path that led straight up to the cottage's front door.

To her surprise, when she looked down, she saw now that she was in fact standing on that path. She turned and looked the other way, and she realized that the path was snaking away through the rain-lashed forest.

“Huh,” she said under her breath. “I didn't notice that before.”

Turning to look at the cottage again, she began to walk along the path, still carrying the basket containing the severed nose. As she reached the front door, she realized that so far she'd seen no sign of life save for the glow in one of the windows. She stopped, with rain pounding down all around her and creating an incessant loud hissing sound, and then she reached out and very gently knocked on the door. She waited, but she heard no reply and she realized that perhaps the rain was too loud, so she resolved to be a little firmer. This time, as soon as she knocked, the cottage's door creaked and began to swing open.

“Hello?” she called out, shivering now as cold rainwater forced her soaked clothes to cling to her skin. “Is anyone there? I'm sorry to disturb you, but I... I think I'm lost, and it's raining really hard and...”

The door bumped against the wall as it finished opening, leaving Penelope looking into a gloomy room. She took a step forward and peered around the corner, and she spotted a solitary candle burning in the window. The cottage was otherwise completely empty, so after a moment she stepped inside, finally getting out of the rain. At that moment, looking the other way, she was shocked to see a pile of wood that had been left next to an empty hearth.

“Is anyone here?” she said again, already figuring that she needed to make a fire as her teeth began to chatter. “I'm sorry, I really don't mean to intrude, but... is it okay if I hide out here until the rain eases a little?”

Chapter Seven

Sobolton, USA – 1980...

“Ringo, stop shouting like that!” Nancy hissed, grabbing her son's arm and pulling him closer. “Why do you have to be so noisy all the time?”

“He's got a good set of lungs,” Jason replied with a grin as he made his way across the cafe in the entrance hallway of Middleford Cross. “Babe, lighten up, you won't be complaining when he grows up to be a big singing star and he uses his millions to buy us a beachfront mansion in Florida.”

“Stop living in your head so much,” Nancy complained, leading Ringo away as Jason wandered along behind them both. “If you focused a little more on the here and now, you might be able to make something of yourself and actually afford to buy us a vacation to Florida.”

They were still bickering as they walked out of the cafe. Clanath, who'd been watching them keenly, couldn't help but smile as she thought of how much they'd changed over the years. She'd been observing several people in Sobolton, but for some reason Nancy and Jason Leonard were her favorites. They seemed like such a happy couple, even if they argued a lot, and part of her wondered what it would be like to be in an actual relationship. Then again, she told herself that being a mother had obviously changed Nancy a lot, whereas...

Suddenly hearing a heavy coughing sound, she turned to see that Ted was leaning so far forward that he'd nearly fallen out of his wheelchair.

“Do you want me to fetch someone?” she asked.

“No!” he spluttered, waving her away as he covered his mouth with a paper towel. “I'm fine!”

She waited, but she knew he was far from 'fine'. He'd been visiting the hospital for regular cancer treatment for a while now and – since he had nobody else to accompany him – she'd taken to keeping him company. Absolutely nothing about the hospital appealed to her in any way, and the electric strip lights gave her a headache every single time she visited, but she put up with the terrible atmosphere because she hated the idea that Ted might be alone. Bald now and having lost a huge amount of weight, he was getting sicker by the day and she knew he didn't have long left. Some days, the stench of death was so strong around him that she wondered how anyone – even a human – couldn't detect it from a mile away.

“I'm fine,” he said again, leaning back in the chair. “I hate that you have to see me like this. Do you remember when we first met in the bar? I was... such a handsome, slim chap back then.”

She smiled, and Ted began to laugh, only to immediately break into another coughing fit. Although she wanted to help him, she knew he had a tendency to become irritated if he felt he was being coddled; instead she sat and waited for him to pull himself together, and she watched as he turned away and tried to discreetly clean around his mouth with a tissue that was already dirty from previous efforts.

“Hey,” he continued finally, clearly struggling for breath once more as he turned back to her, “on the way back to my place, I want to stop off somewhere. It's a little way out of town, not far from the road. I know you probably think I should just go home and rest, but I wanna show you something and ask your opinion. It won't take long, I promise.”

***

“I was so sure it'd be right here,” he said, standing in the forest and looking down at a patch of dirt. After a moment he turned and stared back over at the road. “There's the bend, and we know that can't have moved. I must be remembering it wrong.”

“I don't mean to sound like a broken record,” Clanath replied, “but... I don't think you're strong enough to go wandering around out here.”

“Oh, just hold up with your worrying for a few seconds,” he muttered, looking all around again. “I used to come out here with my buddies when we were all kids. There was Stewie and Puddles, and Joey Binningham. Sometimes Mollie Gould from down the road would come too. And Larry Perkins. That was the core little group. We were so young, just eight or nine years old, and we'd come out on adventures every single weekend. More than that in the summer.”

“That sounds... idyllic,” she replied.

“It was always something different,” he continued, “except...”

He turned and looked the other way, and then suddenly he set off again.

“Found it!” he exclaimed.

“At least be careful,” she told him, before hurrying after him while glancing at the trees all around. In the daylight, nothing seemed too terrifying, but she knew that at night the forest would change.

At night, that thing might be out again.

“Look!” Ted said breathlessly, pointing down at what appeared to be a metal hatch set into the forest floor. “I was only off by a few meters. It's still here!”

Stepping around him, Clanath had to admit that the hatch was a puzzler. She'd never seen such a thing in the forest surrounding Sobolton before, although she'd been away for a long time and she knew a lot could have happened during that period. Still, as she crouched down and brushed some dirt from the hatch, she felt a shiver run through her spine as she began to wonder what the humans had been up to. She could see some letters and numbers on the hatch – probably some kind of reference system for engineers – but when she gave the handle a tug she found that it was firmly secured.

“We used to spend hours trying to get this thing open,” Ted explained with a big, nostalgic grin. “We'd talk about what we thought might be down there, and we'd try just about every trick you can think of. Sometimes we'd even claim we heard something on the other side, clawing and trying to get out, although... I don't think that part was true. I think we just made it up to scare each other. You know what kids are like, right? Always telling each other tall tales.”

“It's clearly not too old,” she observed. “I'd say it was put here less than half a century ago. It might be some kind of... storm drain access point or something like that.”

“That's what I figure,” he continued. “We had all these crazy theories, but I bet it's something so completely dull and mundane.”

He paused for a moment, and now his smile began to fade a little as he stared at the hatch.

“I thought maybe we could figure it out today,” he added, “but now I think I'd rather not. There'll be nothing of interest down there, not really. I think I'd prefer to have the mystery stay alive, just so I can still believe that maybe – just maybe – it's something magical and mysterious. Does that make me sound like a complete idiot?”

“Not at all,” she replied, before tapping the hatch and hearing a faint echoing sound. “It's deep.”

“Don't open it.”

“I'm not even sure how I could.”

“But don't try,” he said firmly. “Let the mystery be. You know, I heard one theory that there's a set of shelters under the forest, and that they were built when the Cold War was really kicking off. That's as good an explanation as any, and I guess there's some mystery about the idea, but I still don't think I want to find out the truth. Not really. Besides, look at me. I'm old and I'm sick, and it's not like I'd even fit down that thing anymore. Sometimes it's best to just let mysteries stay mysterious. Let them stay as fun stories.”

She looked up at him.

“I'm tired,” he continued, furrowing his brow. “It's a different kind of tired, too. Clanath, I don't mean to be rude, but would you mind if we had back to town now?” Reaching up, he wiped some sweat from one side of his face. “You were right, I've been pushing myself too hard. The latest round of treatment has really taken it out of me. I was thinking to go to McGinty's and have a drink so I can remember one last time what that's like, but I don't think I'm up for that now.”

“Maybe next week?” she suggested, trying to remind him that he still had hope.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said with no obvious enthusiasm, before reaching out to support himself against a tree. “Whatever. The treatment's just been hitting different lately, like my body's finding it harder to put up with it all. I don't know if that means it's working better than before or...”

His voice trailed off.

“I'm glad I got to come out here one last time,” he added with a faint, painful chuckle. “I wonder where Stewie and Puddles and the others are now. I know they all moved away, and I bet they barely even remember hanging out with me here in the forest. They've probably got families of their own and successful jobs. I hope so, anyway. I'm the only sad schmuck who stuck around in Sobolton all his life. I guess I made my choice and now I have to accept that fact.”

He stared at the hatch for a few more seconds, before turning and starting to shuffle back toward the road.

“Come on, Clanath,” he called out. “I've got better things to do than stand around out here.”

Looking at the hatch again, Clanath couldn't help but wonder what secrets might be waiting down beneath the forest. She knew that humans had a tendency to always interfere, and to spread their influence as far as possible, but she'd never realized that they might even have begun to explore the area beneath the forest. She touched the cold metal again, and then – figuring that there'd be time to figure out the truth later – she got to her feet. At that moment, she felt a tickling sensation and looked down to see a single trickle of blood running out from under the edge of her dress, reaching as far down as her ankle.

“Clanath, are you coming?” Ted called out, having made it almost all the way to the road now. “It's getting mighty chilly out here!”

“I'm on my way,” she replied, wiping the blood away before setting off after him. “Don't rush, Ted. You know you'll only make yourself feel worse.”

Chapter Eight

Today...

Flames spat and crackled in the hearth as the fire continued to grow. On her knees in the cottage, Penelope was already holding her hands out, trying to warm them in the gently growing heat.

So far, she'd been extremely lucky. The logs had all been dry – which seemed unlikely – and she'd even found some kindling too – which also seemed unlikely – and she couldn't quite shake the sense that everything had been laid out in preparation for the construction of a fire. She'd learned how to get one started as a girl, and she'd used the candle in the window to ignite the first flame, and now to her amazement she found herself staring into a healthy fire, and she could already feel the heat against her face.

Getting to her feet, she turned and looked around the cottage's single room, which was much easier to make out now that the fire was burning properly. To her surprise, she spotted several things that she'd missed before, most notably a bed over on the far side. A pile of sheets and pillows had been left messily at one end of the bed, suggesting perhaps that somebody had been using the cottage fairly regularly, and she saw a pair of slippers resting on the floor. Wandering over, she saw something red on the foot of the bed; picking the item up, she was surprised to find herself holding a bright red dress complete with a hood.

“O... kay,” she murmured, turning the dress around for a moment. “Someone sure has some interesting fashion sense around here.”

She stared at the dress for a few seconds, and then she realized that she needed to use this stroke of luck to her advantage. She slipped out of her soaking shirt and pants, and she hung them from some extremely convenient hooks above the hearth. A third hook had been placed a little further along, so she hung her gun and holster there. Once that was done, she warmed herself by the fire until she was dry, and then she headed back over to the bed. As soon as she started putting the red dress on, she found that it was a perfect fit; the slippers were red too, so she put those on, and then she put the hood up for a moment.

Spotting her own reflection in the window, she couldn't help but find the image rather striking.

“Talk about Little Red Riding Hood,” she muttered, before glancing over at the basket again and thinking of the nose that she'd found inside. “There's not going to be any -”

Suddenly hearing a scratching sound, she looked over her shoulder. The cottage still appeared to be empty, and the front door had remained closed ever since she'd pushed it firmly shut, but for just a few seconds she found herself wondering whether someone else might be watching her after all.

“Hello?” she said again. “My name is Penelope Chandler, I'm from the F.B.I. and I just came in here to shelter from the rain. And to dry off. That wasn't actually part of the plan originally, but... well, here we are.”

She listened, but all she heard now was more and more rain battering the cottage's roof.

“If any costs have been incurred,” she added, “the F.B.I. will be more than happy to reimburse you.”

Again, she heard only silence.

“I'm pretty sure that no-one can hear me,” she continued, feeling a little foolish in the process, “but just in case you can, I want to make it clear that I'm not going to take anything. I'll leave the place exactly how I found it. I just really needed to get out of that rain, but as soon as it clears up and my clothes are dry, I promise I'll be out of here. Is that okay?”

Again she listened, but the scratching sound was long gone now and after a moment she rolled her eyes. She'd never considered herself to be easily scared, and she didn't much fancy the idea of having that change now.

“I'm glad we've come to an agreement,” she called out. “Don't worry. Hopefully I'll be out of here real soon.”

***

Several hours later, with the light starting to really fade outside, Penelope stood at the window and watched as more and more rain continued to fall.

“So much for being out of here soon,” she said under her breath, as she began to contemplate the unwelcome possibility that she might be trapped for the night. “Nellie, you've done it again. Are you ever going to stop making completely dumb decisions in the heat of the moment?”

Looking the other way, she saw that at least she had a bed, and she could only hope that the sheets and pillows piled up high were at least clean. She had no food, and she might have to collect rainwater to drink, but she figured that the lack of alcohol at least meant that she was facing her first dry night of the year so far. Part of her felt strangely thankful for that fact, although another part wasn't too enthused by the prospect of sitting around in an empty cottage with absolutely nothing to do.

Nothing to watch.

Nothing to read.

Nothing at all.

Stepping back across the cottage, she felt a floorboard creaking and shifting slightly beneath her left foot. She stopped and looked down, and then she glanced at the nearby wicker basket. Heading over, she reached down and picked up the plastic bag containing the nose; turning it around in the low light, she winced yet again as she saw the jagged edges. She still had no idea how the nose could have become separated from its owner, but she could tell that the process hadn't been quick or easy. In fact, the edges were so rough and ragged that she felt almost as if the nose had simply been ripped away.

“Nice,” she muttered. “Almost seems like the setup for a -”

In that moment she heard a heavy thud hitting one of the walls. She turned and looked across the cabin, and this time she heard the distinct sound of footsteps traipsing through the mud outside. Bracing herself for a potential confrontation with a possibly very angry cottage owner, she looked at the front door and waited for someone to enter. Already she was rehearsing what she was going to say and how she might possibly explain her presence, but after a few more seconds she realized that the person outside should have reached the door already.

Instead, all she heard now was the sound of more rain falling.

“Hello?” she said cautiously, not for the first time since entering the cottage. “Is anyone there?”

She waited, before heading over to the door. Hearing no sign of anyone on the other side, and not wanting to seem as if she was hiding, she pulled the door open and found herself looking out at nothing more than more rain. A light breeze blew against her, ruffling her red dress, but when she looked down at the ground she saw a smallish set of footprints that were already starting to get washed away. The prints clearly marked a path approaching the door, before continuing around toward the side of the cottage.

Leaning out into the rain, Penelope looked both ways.

“Hey,” she called out loudly, “there's no need to be scared. My name is Penelope Chandler and I'm an agent with the F.B.I., and I just found this place by accident while I was lost in the forest.”

Again she waited, and this time she felt certain that someone was listening nearby.

“I don't want to cause any trouble, okay?” she added, unable to hide a hint of desperation that had crept into her voice now. “I'm just here to dry off.”

She let those words hang in the air for a few seconds, before deciding to try a different approach. Pulling back into the corner behind the open door, she decided to simply wait; figuring that nobody would want to be outside in such terrible weather, she listened out for any sign that someone was approaching the front of the cottage. After all, she assumed that the open door would simply be too inviting. For the next few minutes she heard nothing but more rain, and she began to doubt her plan, but eventually she heard the telltale sound of someone slowly but surely trudging though the mud, making their way ever closer.

Looking at the narrow gap between the door and the wall, she spotted a figure moving on the other side of the hinges. Resisting the urge to call out again, she forced herself to wait and sure enough she soon heard a couple of cautious footsteps entering the cabin, bumping against the dry wooden boards. Still determined to hold back, Penelope saw a faint shadow falling across the floor, and now she was starting to think that this new arrival might not be very tall, almost as if -

Suddenly the figure stepped on a loose board, which creaked gently beneath the pressure. Taking that as her cue, Penelope pushed the door shut and stepped forward, only to freeze as she found herself looking down into the eyes of a young girl.

“Please,” the girl stammered, soaked to the skin and shaking with fear, “I need your help. My name is Eloise and... something's chasing me!”

Chapter Nine

Sobolton, USA – 1984...

“And with that,” the priest continued, “we commit the body of our friend Edward 'Ted' Donarchie to the ground, and we ask of you, Lord, to take his soul and embrace him with all of your love as one of your most devout children. Amen.”

Standing at the back of the crowd, Clanath watched as Ted's coffin was slowly lowered into the grave. Having held on for so much longer than she'd ever expected, clinging to life even as death seemed more and more certain, Ted had finally died after suffering a massive heart attack. He'd been alone when it had happened, and Clanath had been the one to discover him when she'd visited his home to see how he was doing. She could only imagine that the cause of his death might have given him one last chuckle; after all, it had been his heart rather than the cancer that had accounted for him in the end.

“Victory is mine,” she imagined him saying with his customary chuckle.

“I can't believe it,” a man said nearby. “Poor old Teddy.”

“I wish I'd seen him more,” a woman next to him replied, sniffing back tears. “I always meant to drop by and see him, or call him, but... somehow I never quite got the time. I guess I just thought he'd always be around, you know?”

She turned to the man.

“What was that nickname he used to give you all the time?” she asked. “That's right! Puddles!”

“We were one hell of a little gang back then,” he reminded her. “It's a shame the others couldn't make it today, but I'm glad I came along. I was in the area, anyway, so it wasn't even too much hassle.”

“Me too,” she replied. “To be honest, I hadn't actually thought about Ted much for years. He didn't have any family left, did he?”

“I don't think so.”

“That's so sad,” she continued. “I guess there aren't many people around to...”

She paused, before sniffing back more tears.

“I actually don't want to think about that,” she said finally. “It's just too horrible. Do you remember that little reunion we all had last year in Denver? We all talked about how well our lives are going, and I think it was Larry who asked if anyone had heard from Ted. I really wish we'd been more organized, and that maybe we'd managed to invite him.”

“He wouldn't have come,” the man replied. “He barely ever left Sobolton once in his life, if at -”

Suddenly he turned, looking at an empty space nearby. Glancing around, he saw no sign of anyone, yet for a few seconds he couldn't help but continue to stare at that particular spot.

“What's wrong?” the woman asked.

“Nothing,” he replied cautiously, “I just... it's strange, but for a moment I thought I saw someone standing there. A woman.” He looked at the distant treeline, beyond the point where a railway line somewhat improbably ran directly through the cemetery. “I really thought there was someone there,” he added, “but I guess I was wrong. Funny how the brain works, huh?”

“Do you wanna go and get a drink when we're done here?” she muttered. “I don't know about you, but I really feel like drowning my sorrows.”

***

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Standing at the edge of the forest, a little way from the cemetery, Clanath turned to see a familiar figure making his way over, although on this occasion something was very different about him.

“What's with the eye patch?” she asked as Saint Thomas stopped next to her. “Your left eye -”

“Just a little scar from a recent encounter,” he admitted with a faint smile. “I could heal it, but I quite like keeping it around as a kind of reminder.” He watched her for a moment. “I hope you appreciate the effort I'm making here. You know I don't like being in this dirty human form, but it seems these days there's no other way to talk to you.”

“Are you missing the eye when you're a wolf, too?”

“Naturally,” he chuckled, before hesitating again. After a few seconds he followed her gaze, looking toward the forest. “You might have the right idea, keeping away from the rest of the pack,” he added. “Things have been getting... tricky with the family of late.”

“Your family is of no real interest to me.”

“Are you and Turncoat not getting along? I heard about your latest -”

“Is it true that Michael has been seeing a human woman?” she asked pointedly, keen to change the subject.

“Believe me,” he muttered darkly, “no-one's happy about it. She's some dowdy little idiot from the town, and he seems to be under the mistaken impression that he's fallen in love with her. I keep waiting for him to realize his mistake, but so far he just keeps getting worse and worse. Honestly, I'm tempted to rip her head off just to make him see sense, but Turncoat thinks we need to let him figure that out for himself.”

“I wish you wouldn't call him that.”

“I'm sure Michael will sort himself out soon,” he added. “He's always been a bit of a loner, hiding himself away whenever he gets a chance. He's taken to brooding most of the time in one of those old cabins the humans built a while back. I've got to be honest, I don't think he'll make much of a ruler. In fact, a lot of the pack agrees. What about you, Clanath? What do you reckon?”

“I couldn't care less if my life depended on it.”

“You're an old soul.”

“I'm old, full stop,” she pointed out. “Too old, maybe.”

“So why are you scared of the forest?” he asked.

She turned and glared at him.

“You can dress it up however you want,” he continued, “but we both know I'm right. What is it out there that fills you with so much terror? You barely ever go there anymore, and certainly never at night. Did something happen to scare you?”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” she murmured.

“So educate me. Like you said, you're old, so you must have seen plenty of things round these parts over the years. I'd have though that might leave you somewhat desensitized to the horrors of Sobolton and the surrounding area, but clearly something's managed to get under your skin. Forgive me, but I'm very curious to know what that might be.”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.

“You really wouldn't get it,” she said firmly. “Trust me on that, Saint. You're not exactly an empathetic individual, are you?”

“What's it like being so old?” he asked with a sly smile. “You don't look it, but you must feel it. Exactly how old are you, anyway? I've heard rumors that you might be the oldest member of the pack, that you've set new records for longevity. Some even say that you were around when this town was being built. Of course, I'm not sure that can be quite true. After all, if you were that old, wouldn't you have some cubs of your own by now?”

She wanted to scream, to grab him and throw him to the ground, but she knew she couldn't afford to give him the satisfaction. Instead she continued to watch the trees, trying in vain to push back the fear that even now was crawling its way through her bones and filling her body like vines.

“Ah, I shouldn't judge,” Saint Thomas continued. “After all, I can't even begin to imagine all the things you've seen in your long life, Clanath.”

He patted her on the shoulder. She flinched, but she kept her eyes fixed on the forest as he turned and began to saunter away.

“Nice chat,” he called back to her. “I hope to bump into you out there in the forest soon, preferably when we're both in our more natural forms. It doesn't do anyone any good to stay in the human world for too long.”

“I'm not in this form all the time,” she whispered. “I change occasionally, but... I just can't go into the forest too often. Not at the moment.”

As those words left her lips, she heard the noise again: bones were bumping against one another, grinding slightly, and the wind whipped up as if to warn of dangers to come.

“See you around, Clanath!” Saint Thomas shouted, already disappearing into the forest. “Don't let any jingle-jangling monsters get you!”

“Go to hell,” she said under her breath, while telling herself that she was going to have to face her fears soon. Not today, perhaps, but tomorrow might be possible.

In that moment, making a solemn promise that she'd enter the forest again very soon, she turned and began to make her way back toward the road that led into town. She saw the gas station opposite the cemetery gates, a strangely potent symbol of the human tendency to mix everything up together: the sacred and the profane, the important and the dull, and most importantly the evil and the good. That was the one part of human society that she appreciated more than any other, and the one part that a wolf like Saint Thomas could never truly understand.

Chapter Ten

Today...

“When you say that something's been chasing you,” Penelope said cautiously, standing at the window and looking out at the ever-darkening rain-lashed forest, “what exactly do you think is out there?”

She watched for a moment longer, before turning to see that Eloise was shivering in the corner.

“How old are you?” she continued.

After waiting for a reply, she glanced outside one more time before heading over to the girl.

“I'm guessing ten,” she told her. “Maybe a year or two either side, but I'm usually pretty good with that sort of thing.” She stopped and looked at the girl for a few seconds, before crouching down so that she could see her face a little better. “Are you from around here?” she asked. “Are you from Sobolton?”

Eloise hesitated, clearly still terrified, before shaking her head.

“Okay,” Penelope continued, “so -”

“I don't know,” the girl said suddenly. “I mean, I wasn't born in Sobolton but... I don't think I'm from anywhere else except the forest. Is the forest part of Sobolton?”

“I really don't know,” Penelope told her. “Okay, so your name is Eloise and you're kinda from Sobolton. Eloise, do you know where your parents are?”

“I ran away from Mommy,” she replied. “Some bad men tried to hurt her, so I made them stop and then I thought that I should come out here so that nobody else would get hurt. I thought I could be brave, but then I realized after a few hours that something was following me. I felt like I was being hunted, and I started to run.”

“So are we talking about a man?” Penelope asked. “Is a man chasing you?”

Eloise thought about that question for a moment, before slowly shaking her head.

“Then what kind of -”

“It's a wolf,” Eloise added.

“You're being chased by a wolf?”

The girl nodded.

“Okay,” Penelope said again, turning to look out the window again as rain continued to crash down. “That's a little different. I wasn't aware that there were many wolves in this part of the world, although...”

For a few seconds she thought back to her last phone conversation with Mendelson.

“It's all my fault,” Eloise continued after a few seconds. “Everything that happened since I came out of the ice is all because of me. I don't know why my uncle's so mad at me, or why he wants to hurt people, but everyone in Sobolton is in trouble and I know I can make them safe again.”

Unable to make sense of those comments, Penelope turned to her.

“They're all really scared,” Eloise explained. “It's only going to get worse, too. Mommy didn't think I overheard her talking to Sheriff Tench and the others, but I did. They've been looking for a pendant that would keep them safe, but they can't find it. I thought that if I came out here, I might be able to persuade my uncle to stop hurting them all. Then I met one of the other wolves and I got so scared. Now I think they just want to hurt me.”

“I...”

Still bemused by the girl's claims, Penelope stared at her for a few more seconds before looking up as a dribble of water began to splatter down from a hole in the roof.

“I think we're stuck in here for now,” she pointed out. “Let's just hope that we can find a way to get out of here soon. Of course, first we really need that rain to stop.”

***

Very slowly, Eloise leaned forward and peered into the wicker basket in the corner, and her eyes opened wide with shock as she saw a severed human nose resting in a clear plastic bag.

“You don't need to look at that,” Penelope said suddenly, grabbing the basket and pulling it away. “Didn't I tell you to just sit quietly while I figure out a plan?”

“Is that a nose?” Eloise asked.

“It's evidence.”

“Of what?”

“I'm not quite sure yet,” Penelope continued, setting the basket on a bare table in the opposite corner. “Just... don't look at it, okay? You're just a kid, you really shouldn't be seeing things like that.”

“I've seen worse things.”

“I'm sure you have, but not on my watch.” Pausing for a moment, Penelope realized that she really wasn't sure how to speak to children. “Do you know if other random body parts have been showing up in the area lately?” she continued. “Ears? Eyeballs? Anything like that?”

Eloise considered the question dutifully, and then she shook her head.

“I guess it might have been an accident,” Penelope continued, even though she couldn't really think of any set of circumstances that might leave a nose resting in a wicker basket in the forest. “Someone out there must be missing it, though,” she added. “There's a hospital in Sobolton, isn't there? Middle... something? When we finally get to town, I'll head over and see if there's anyone there who might want to get it sewn back on. Not that it's probably in much of a state for that by now but...”

Her voice trailed off as she realized that Eloise no longer seemed to be listening. Instead the girl was staring toward the other end of the room. Penelope turned and followed her gaze, but all she saw was the bed with its pile of sheets and pillows piled up next to the wall.

“Are you tired?” she asked. “Eloise, do you want to take a nap?”

She waited, but now she couldn't help but notice a trace of fear in the girl's eyes. Stepping over, she reached out and clicked her fingers in front of Eloise's face, trying to break her out of what appeared to be some kind of trance.

“Hey,” she continued, “are you okay?”

“Did you see it?” Eloise whispered, and now her voice was tense with fear.

“Did I see what?” Penelope asked, turning to look over at the bed again. “It's just -”

In that moment, she froze as she saw that the pile of sheets was very slightly shifting, almost as if something was moving underneath them all. She instinctively reached for her gun, before deciding at the last second that she really didn't want to overreact, not with a child around. Still, the sheets continued to move, and already she was starting to worry that there might be some kind of vermin underneath the pile of fabric.

“I'm sure it's nothing,” she told Eloise, trying to sound unconcerned. “Do you want me to go over and prove that to you?”

She took a step toward the bed, only to stop as she felt Eloise grabbing her wrist.

“Don't!” the girl hissed.

“Eloise, it's only -”

“Don't go near it,” she continued, speaking through clenched teeth now.

“What's gotten into you, huh?” Penelope asked, trying to stay calm even as she heard the sound of the sheets rustling. “Are you scared of mice and rats? They're not my favorite things either, but it's better to deal with them.”

“Don't go near the bed,” Eloise said again.

“You're starting to freak me out a little bit,” Penelope continued, turning to look at the bed again. She wanted to make another quip to lighten the mood, but in that moment she realized that the sheets had spread across the mattress and that now the shape beneath seemed larger.

Almost large enough to be human.

“It's just a rat,” she stammered, although now she could hear the fear in her own voice. “That's all. Or a mouse. Or maybe something slightly bigger like a... I don't know, a weasel or...”

Her voice trailed off, and she felt Eloise's grip tighten on her wrist.

“It's him,” the little girl whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Penelope asked. “Can you please -”

Before she could finish, she heard a faint gasping sound coming from the bed. Although the sheets were still very messy, there was certainly room now for a person to be underneath them, and seconds later the bed creaked as if struggling under the weight of an occupant.

“It's just a rat,” she said again, as much to convince herself as to make Eloise less scared. “That's all. It's just a big... really big... very big... rat.”

“It's not a rat,” Eloise gasped. “It's him.”

“Who are you talking about?” Penelope asked. “Can you stop speaking in riddles and actually tell me what the hell's going on here?”

“Hello?” a pained, throaty voice groaned from somewhere in the middle of the sheets. “Is that you? Is that my precious little granddaughter, come to visit me out here in the forest?” The sheets rustled for a moment, as if someone was trying to find a way out but couldn't quite manage. “Please, come closer. It's so difficult for me to hear you when you're all the way over there.”

“Okay,” Penelope said cautiously, still resisting the urge to get her gun out of its holster, “can someone please tell me what's going on here?”

Chapter Eleven

Sobolton, USA – 1987...

“Lady? Lady, hey, are you okay?”

Opening her eyes, Clanath was immediately startled by the bright morning sunlight glaring directly into her eyes. She held up a hand to shield herself, while trying to work out how she'd seemingly ended up passing out in what seemed to be one of the alleyways in the center of town.

“Lady, do you need help?” the boy continued. “Do you want me to fetch someone?”

“No,” she murmured, hauling herself up with some difficulty. “No, I'm fine.”

She turned to him.

“I'm sorry, I -”

Before she could finish, she realized that she recognized the boy. Something about his eyes immediately jumped out at her, but a few more seconds passed before she realized that this was the son of Nancy and Jason Leonard, the couple she'd been noticing every so often during her years in the town. The boy bore a striking resemblance to his father, and for a moment Clanath couldn't help but wonder why the Leonard family seemed to be so regularly intruding into her own existence.

“My name's Ringo,” he told her. “I've seen you before.”

“You have?”

“Don't you have anywhere to live?” he asked.

“I -”

Stopping suddenly, she looked down and saw that her clothes were faded and tattered; she turned to see her own reflection in a nearby window, and she was shocked to realize that she looked so pale and thin now, almost as if she'd begun to waste away.

“I have somewhere to live,” she continued, spotting the tops of the forest's trees in the distance, “but... I don't want to go there.”

“I know that feeling.”

She turned to him again.

“Daddy's always angry,” he explained, “and... Mommy's even worse. They fight all the time, and sometimes I feel like they're angrier when I'm around, so I try to keep out of their way as much as possible.”

“That's... very sad,” Clanath told him, although she wasn't really sure what she could do to help.

“Is it like that for you?” he asked. “Are you trying to avoid people as well?”

“Sort of,” she admitted, telling herself that there was no way she could tell a child the truth about her reasons for staying out of the forest at night. “It's a little more complicated for me. I'm from...”

In that moment, she realized that perhaps she was wrong, that her situation was no more complicated than the misery that Ringo was enduring. She saw great pain in his eyes, and she couldn't help but wonder how a human life could go so badly wrong at such an early age, and why the lives of his parents had begun to fall apart. Part of her wanted to dismiss their experiences as simple human failures, but deep down she could almost sense the sorrow that even now was filling the boy's heart.

“Do you want to see where I hang out?” he asked suddenly. “It's kind of cool and... I don't mind sharing it with you.”

***

“What is this place?” Clanath whispered a short while later, as she followed Ringo through the forest and finally spotted a simple cottage ahead. “I've been out here so many times and I never noticed it before.”

“I don't know who it belongs to,” he replied confidently, “but I'm pretty sure that no-one lives here now. At least, no-one comes here whenever I'm hanging out.”

“You hide away in the forest?”

“It seems easier,” he continued. “I don't want to get in the way at home.”

“You hide in the forest, to get away from the town,” she murmured, “while I hide in the town, to get away from the forest.”

Glancing all around, she had to admit that in daylight the forest didn't seem so threatening. That would all change at night, though, and she told herself that she had to make sure she was gone by the time the sun dipped in the sky; she hadn't been in the forest at night for a long time, and she wanted to make sure that she never made the same mistake again.

Up ahead, the cottage's front door creaked open as Ringo made his way inside.

“This must belong to someone,” Clanath pointed out, wincing slightly as she felt a pain in her hip. “Hey, slow down. Aren't you worried about bumping into someone out here?”

“I told you, I never see another soul.”

“That doesn't mean someone might not show up one day,” she told him as she stepped inside. “There are some bad people around this town.”

She wanted to tell him that several women had gone missing over the years, but she figured that there was no point scaring the child. Stopping once she was in the cottage, she looked around and saw that there was only one room, with a table at one end and a bare bed at the other. An empty hearth stood nearby, but she had to admit that the place had potential; she'd seen cabins in the forest, such as the place Turncoat's brother Michael occupied, but an actual cottage was something else entirely. As she wandered around the gloomy room, she couldn't help but wonder who had once lived in such a place and how they'd managed to go unnoticed by the wolves.

Then again, she figured that she was very much out of the loop so far as such matters were concerned, and that Saint Thomas and the others probably knew all about the little cottage.

“How often do you come out here?” she asked.

“Most days,” Ringo admitted.

“And what do you do?”

Grabbing a satchel, he set it on the table and opened it up, revealing several library books.

“Mostly I read,” he explained, setting the books out carefully so that she could see the titles. “I like reading. It takes me away to somewhere else.”

“You must have a very active imagination,” she said, heading over and looking down at the titles. “You seem to have a particular interest in the works of Anthony Trollope.”

“He was an English writer,” the boy explained, opening one of the books. “I don't understand all of it, but I'm trying my best. Everything's really old-fashioned in his stories, but I like the way they're written. Sometimes the other kids at school make fun of me, but I don't really mind. I just pick a different author sometimes and get all their books out from the library at once.” He leafed through this particular book, causing the well-worn spine to creak slightly. “I like reading about places that seem so far away,” he added. “For a few hours every day, it's like I can pretend I'm not here in Sobolton.”

“One day you can leave,” she told him. “Would you like to do that? You can go anywhere in the world. If you work hard in school, you can get a good job that'll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Maybe,” he replied, “but I don't know if I can ever do that. They need me around.”

“If you mean your parents,” she continued, “then at some point you have to go off and live your own life. I'm sure they'll understand.”

“When Daddy gets angry, sometimes he takes his gun out.”

“It's not your job to fix their lives,” she said firmly. “There's only so much anyone else can do for them.”

She waited for an answer, but he was staring at one page in the book and after a moment she realized that he was already getting lost in another world. She felt desperately sorry for the boy and she wanted to find some way to help, but after a few seconds she glanced at the window. Although sunlight was still very much in evidence outside, she was constantly calculating how long it would take to get back to the safety of the town; she knew she couldn't afford to get caught out in the forest at night, not again.

“Parents should take good care of their children,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes. “It's not right when they let them suffer. Your parents should be look after you, not the other way around.”

“I don't mind,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the book. “I just need to get a break every so often, that's all. They're usually alright during the daytime. It's at night that Daddy gets really bad. When he's drunk and he's waving that gun around, he can get pretty scary. For Mommy and for me.” He turned to her. “Do you have any children of your own?”

“Me?” She opened her mouth to reply, before hesitating. “No,” she added finally, already thinking yet again of the quickest way to leave the forest once nightfall arrived. “No, I don't. Not anymore.”

Chapter Twelve

Today...

Stepping behind Penelope, Eloise barely dared to peer back over at the sheets on the bed.

“Can I ask who I'm speaking to?” Penelope said cautiously, still resisting the urge to draw her gun even though she felt that moment had now arrived.

She waited, but the sheets on the bed continued to shift around. So far, Penelope had seen no sign of an actual person emerging from beneath those sheets, but she knew for certain that there had to be somebody lurking somewhere in the bed – even if that prospect had seemed utterly impossible just a few minutes earlier.

A faint rustling whisper emerged, but no more words could actually be made out.

“My name,” she continued, “is Penelope Chandler and I'm an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'm going to have to ask you to come out so that I can see you.”

This time she slipped her gun from its holster and held it out, worried that she might have wandered into some kind of ambush.

“I'm armed,” she said firmly, “and this is not a request. It's an order.”

Her heart was racing now and she knew she had to keep both herself and the little girl safe. At that moment she happened to spot her own reflection in the mirror, and she couldn't help but notice how strange she looked wearing the red hooded dress.

“Come closer,” the voice in the bed whispered. “Don't you want to see my big eyes and my huge, absolutely enormous teeth?”

Penelope turned to look at the bed again, and in that moment she realized that somehow she'd been lured into some kind of insane recreation of an old fairy tale. She had no idea how all the pieces had been put into place, but she knew the story of Little Red Riding Hood enough to understand that the person in the cottage had clearly gone to a lot of trouble. Adjusting her grip on the gun, and silently admonishing herself for having reached this point, she watched the moving sheets and told herself that – despite the absurdity of the situation – she had to be ready to open fire if necessary.

“Come closer,” the voice said again, as wind blew against the cottage and whistled through the eaves, whipped up in the rain that continued to fall outside. “Let me get a proper look at you.”

“It's him,” Eloise whimpered.

“Who are you talking about?” Penelope asked, not quite daring to take her eyes off the scene ahead, worried that the figure under the sheets might lunge forward at any moment. “Can you tell me who you think that is?”

“It's him!” Eloise hissed.

“I need you to be clearer,” Penelope continued. “Just -”

Before she could finish, she saw that the sheets were starting to rise up. Again she adjusted her grip on the gun, but slowly a figure appeared to be getting to its feet on the bed, causing the wooden frame to creak and groan under its weight; the sheets were still moving slowly up, but so far there was no sign of the figure that supposedly had been lurking beneath them for so long.

“Drop the sheets and let me see your face,” Penelope said firmly, through gritted teeth. “I won't warn you again. I'm a federal agent and I demand -”

In that moment the sheets began to move forward. Figuring that she'd already given enough of a warning, Penelope instinctively pulled the trigger, firing three shots straight at the sheets, causing them to instantly slump back down against the bed as the bullets slammed into the wooden wall behind.

Staring at the bed, Penelope saw that the sheets were entirely flat now. She hesitated for a few seconds, before hurrying over and pulling the sheets aside, revealing that there was nobody on the bed at all. She leaned down and checked the space underneath, then she aimed the gun all around the cottage but quickly realized that there was nowhere for anyone else to hide. As she did so, she felt wind blowing against the back of her neck, bringing some stray rain that had managed to sneak through a gap in the ceiling.

“Where is he?” she stammered, lowering her gun as she turned to look at Eloise. “Where did he go?”

***

“Okay,” she said a few minutes later, staring at a small gap in the wall above the bed, “I think I get it now. It's all a little... improbable, but sometimes improbable things happen. The important thing is that we remain strictly logical.”

She paused, feeling another gust of wind against her face, and then she turned to see that Eloise was still cowering in the opposite corner.

“It's wind,” she continued. “It's really as simple as that. Wind has been blowing into the cottage through this gap, and probably through others as well, and somehow... I'm not sure of the next part, but somehow it was ruffling these old sheets that were left on the bed. That's why they appeared to be moving.”

She waited, hoping that Eloise might agree, but still she saw only fear in the young girl's eyes. In truth, she knew that if their positions had been reversed, she wouldn't be believing such a cockamamie story either.

“Okay, so that explains the movement,” she added uncertainly. “Obviously when I shot the sheets, I broke the pocket of air that was causing the movement. I'm sure someone a little better at the science side of things could explain that better.” She made her way toward Eloise. “As for the voice, that was the wind too. We're both in a heightened state of agitation, and people can imagine all sorts of things when they're scared. I'm sure we didn't hear the exact same thing, in fact I imagine that we simply ended up conforming our own worst fears. The mind can really play crazy tricks on us all. Even adults.”

Stopping, she looked down at Eloise and saw that her words seemed to not be having much impact. The girl still appeared to be utterly terrified.

“And as the responsible adult,” she went on, “I have a duty to take charge of the situation and to make sure that we see things clearly and rationally. Do you think you can trust me on that?”

Eloise hesitated, before slowly shaking her head.

“Well, you've got to at least try,” Penelope continued, although she worried that she was perhaps being a little harsh. “I really don't think we should be going out there in this rain, and it seems to be settling in for a good long while, so we have to make the best of the situation. There doesn't appear to be much hope of food, so we're going to be a little hungry for a while, but the rain can't last forever. We're going to get very muddy when we're out there, but we need to be ready.”

Trying to prove her point, she made her way over to the fireplace and began to check her clothes, which were already almost dry.

“Do you happen to know exactly how far it is to Sobolton from here?” she asked. “What -”

Before she could finish, she spotted something poking out from a gap at the edge of the fireplace. Reaching down, she jiggled what appeared to be a piece of paper, finally managing to slide it out without causing any rips. Turning it around, she found that it was a single page from a book.

“Barchester Towers,” she read out loud, “by Anthony Trollope.”

She considered those details for a moment before turning to Eloise.

“Ever heard of him?”

Eloise shook her head.

“Well, someone must have liked him here once,” she muttered, before tossing the page onto the fire. “A little extra heat,” she continued, before furrowing her brow. “Actually, that might have been useful as evidence. Not that there's anything I need evidence for just now but... well, you never know, do you?” She watched as the page crumpled and burned away to nothing. “Too late now, though,” she muttered, hoping to make light of the situation as she turned to Eloise again. “I'm sure it was nothing, though. Just some dusty old book about -”

Suddenly somebody knocked hard on the door. Startled, Penelope turned and looked over her shoulder, but all she could hear now was more rain hitting the cottage's roof and windows.

“Don't let him in!” Eloise gasped.

“Who?” Penelope replied, not quite daring to look away from the door.

“It's him,” Eloise continued, backing away into the far corner and sliding down onto the floor, shaking with terror now. “It's my uncle. Please, you can't let him in!”

As those last words left her lips, another loud knock rang out, accompanied swiftly by two more.

“Can I join you ladies?” a man's voice called out from the other side. “It's sure inhospitable out here and I reckon a man could almost drown in so much rain. Would the pair of you be so kind as to let me take shelter with you for a while? If you open this door, I promise I won't cause too much trouble.”

“Don't let him in!” Eloise sobbed frantically, as Penelope continued to stare at the door. “It's my uncle! He's a really bad man! Whatever you do, you can't let him come inside!”

Chapter Thirteen

Sobolton, USA – 1991...

Reaching into the dumpster, Clanath fumbled around for a moment, pushing her hand into the squelchy mess at the rear of the motel before finally pulling out a large half empty can of salted meat.

After sniffing to make sure that the meat was still good, she picked some meat from the can and gave it a taste. She could feel the hunger scratching at the inside of her belly, and after a few seconds she began to ferociously consume every last scrap of food, while telling herself that soon she was going to come up with a better system. She knew she couldn't live as a hobo on the town's streets forever, but whenever she considered returning to the forest she felt all hear fears starting to rise up again.

“Clanath,” a voice said suddenly, “what the hell has happened to you?”

Startled, she turned and saw a familiar figure standing just a few feet away.

“Saint Thomas told me I might find you here,” Turncoat continued, shaking his head somberly. “I didn't want to believe it. He said that you were getting much worse. He described what was going on in excruciating detail. I could tell he was enjoying every second.”

“I'm fine,” she stammered, before tossing the can back into the dumpster. “It's not how it looks.”

“I found them,” he replied.

“I don't know what you're talking about!” she snapped.

“Of course you do,” he said firmly. “We can't keep going round and round in this vicious circle. Every few years you come to me, and the same thing happens, and then...”

His voice trailed off for a moment.

“Look at you,” he added. “It's no wonder they always come out dead, or as good as. You're too sick to be a mother.”

“It's a curse,” she told him.

“Where did you get that idea from?”

“I've been bad,” she told him. “You didn't know me back in the old days. I killed him. I killed Henry Sobolton to prove myself to the pack, but ever since I've been cursed to live this wretched life.”

“There's no record of any curse,” he replied, before taking a step forward. “Clanath, I love you and I can't bear to see you like this. I know what you're scared of and -”

“You don't have a clue what I'm scared of!” she snarled angrily. “You think you do but you don't!”

“I see them out there,” he replied. “I know where you put them. Clanath, it's a hell of a mess and -”

“Do you hear them at night?” she asked. “I bet you don't. I'm the only one they come for at night, because I'm the only one they blame for what happened to them! I've lost track of how many there are now. Isn't that awful? I think it's seventeen or eighteen, but I just can't be sure.”

He sighed.

“And at night they come out,” she continued, “and they come to find me, so they can get their revenge. Don't you ever hear the way they walk? Don't you hear their bones in the middle of the night? But they can't come here, they can't come into the town, so I'm safe as long as I stay in Sobolton and I don't go to the forest when it's dark.”

“I want you to come home,” he told her. “Not just for a week or two, like every other time. I want you to come home with me to the forest, and this time I want you to stay.”

She shook her head.

“You're losing your mind,” he insisted. “I can help you, there's still time, but you're slowly getting worse while you're down here in the world of humans.”

“I'm fine!”

“You're literally eating their trash,” he pointed out. “Can you think about what that means? You're a thousand times better than them in every way, and you're eating the garbage food they toss out.”

“I can't live in the forest again,” she told him. “It's just not possible. I can't risk seeing them again.”

“You put some more of them out there the other day,” he replied. “I thought that after last time... I keep thinking that we'll make it work, but you just let it happen again and again. I'm not blaming you for the fact that they keep dying. All I'm blaming you for is the fact that you won't accept my help.”

“I don't need your help” she murmured, turning and walking away across the parking lot. “Leave me alone. I know what I'm doing. I've got everything under control.”

“You're going to die like this!” he called after her. “I won't come and try to help you again, Clanath! If you walk away from me today, you'll be on your own forever!”

***

“Ma'am, I'm sorry but... I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

Having been staring for several minutes into the chiller cabinets at the rear of the supermarket, Clanath finally turned to see that the store's manager was standing just a few feet away. Some other shoppers were glaring at her from nearby aisles, and after a few seconds she realized that apparently she'd begun to attract a great deal of attention.

Above her, the electric strip lights briefly flickered.

“Ma'am, did you hear me?” the manager asked firmly. “I'm sorry, but you're disturbing the other shoppers and I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave the premises immediately.”

“She looks awful,” a woman whispered nearby, “and the smell...”

Clanath turned and stared at her, and the woman immediately took a step back.

“Ma'am,” the manager continued with a heavy sigh, “don't make me get someone from the sheriff's department over here. There's no need for us to escalate this situation if you just leave the store at once.”

“I haven't done anything wrong,” she replied.

She waited for him to explain exactly why she was being asked to leave, but a moment later she realized that he'd begun to look at something on the floor. Looking down, she was shocked to see that she'd walked a set of bloodied footprints all the way through the store; her bare feet were cut and bruised, but more blood was gently oozing down the insides of her thighs. Furrowing her brow, she tried to remember exactly how she'd ended up in this situation, but she quickly realized that her mind was far too foggy.

“Okay,” the manager said, turning to walk away, “I tried. I'm going to have to -”

“Don't you dare!” she snarled at him.

He stopped and looked at her again.

“It's not my fault that this keeps happening!” she told him. “Why do I always get the blame, when it's the curse that does it all? Do you know where I'm standing right now?”

“I'm calling for backup,” he said firmly.

“Henry Sobolton once stood on this exact spot,” she continued, looking down at the supermarket's blood-stained white floor. “Right here,” she added, “was where he worked on that first sign for a while. Soboltonland, that's what he called it. And look what you've built on top of it now.” She winced as the electric lights fizzed and popped above her. “Are you proud of yourselves? Did you never stop and wonder whether you could do better?”

“Ma'am,” the manager replied, “I already -”

“Why did you do it?” she screamed, and in that moment every electric light in the entire supermarket shattered, showering glass down onto the unsuspecting customers and plunging the place into darkness. “Why didn't you ever stop to ask yourselves whether you should keep going? Why did you just keep burying the old Soboltonland beneath everything else? Why did you ignore all the warnings?”

“Everybody leave the building at once,” the manager stammered. “Please, try to find the exit as quickly as possible. I'm going to call for help.”

“It's too late for help!” Clanath yelled as she heard panicked footsteps hurrying away, and a moment later light burst into the dark space as the manager opened a side door. “You don't get it, do you?” she shouted. “Your little human minds are too small to comprehend the horror of what you've done! It's not just me who ended up cursed, is it? It's the whole town! It's all of you as well!”

“Please leave behind anything you haven't paid for,” the manager said as more and more customers hurried outside. “If you haven't paid for things, just pop the basket down as you leave. Please, don't take anything if you don't already have a receipt. I'm going to be checking receipts in the parking lot.”

“There's going to be a reckoning,” Clanath said darkly. “A day of judgment is coming for this whole town, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. And when it arrives... you're all going to be washed away in blood.”

Chapter Fourteen

Today...

“Hello?” the voice called out from the other side of the door. “Is... anyone still there?”

Swallowing hard, Penelope tried to work out how she should proceed. As far as she was aware, the door wasn't even locked, so the man could certainly try the handle at any moment and gain access; at the same time, something about his tone made her suspicious, and she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that something about this whole cottage wasn't quite right.

A moment later she headed over to the table and picked up her gun again, and then she took a moment to reload with her last remaining ammunition.

“You're taking a long time deciding,” the voice continued, accompanied this time by a faint scratching sound. “I don't mean to rush you, but I'm getting absolutely drenched out here and to be honest, I don't like the forest at night. You never quite know what else might be out here, do you?”

“Damn it,” Penelope muttered, annoyed as she dropped the last of the ammunition. She reached down and picked it up, but her hands were trembling and she knew she needed to pull herself together.

“You can't let him in,” Eloise whispered. “He'll kill you.”

“I can take care of myself,” she replied, although she was fully aware that in that particular moment she sounded less than convincing. “I can take care of both of us.”

“He wants to take me away,” Eloise continued, “but you're nothing to him. He might leave you alone, but... I don't think he will. I think he'll kill you for fun.”

“What are you talking about?” Penelope asked, stepping over to her as she heard the wind blasting harder and harder against the walls of the cottage. “You said this is your uncle, right? Does he have a name?”

“His name is Saint Thomas.”

“That can't be his real name.”

“It is. At least, I think so.”

After glancing at the door for a moment, Penelope turned to the little girl again.

“So what's really going on here?” she asked finally. “I need the short version, but why is this uncle of yours acting so strangely?”

“I came out here to make a deal with him,” Eloise admitted. “I thought that if I turned myself over to him, he'd leave the town alone.”

“You already mentioned something about that,” Penelope reminded her, “but it still doesn't quite make sense or -”

Suddenly a particularly strong gust of wind blew through the wall, startling her. Hearing a rustling sound, she turned just in time to see the sheets blowing off the bed; ordinarily she would have taken that as confirmation of her earlier theory, but in that moment she felt an ominous sense of dread starting to creep through her bones. And then, before she could ask another question, she spotted a dark shape moving past the cottage's largest window.

“Hey!” she called out, rushing across the room, clambering over the bed in her haste to get to the window in time. “You! Stop! F.B.I.!”

Reaching the window, she saw that the figure on the other side had also stopped. She could only make out his silhouette so far; he seemed tall and well-built, and slowly he turned so that he could look into the cottage. In that instant she realized that while she could make out none of his features, most likely the light from the hearth would make her very visible. No matter how hard she tried to not seem scared, however, she felt sure that she wasn't doing a particularly good job.

“I'm Agent Chandler from the F.B.I.,” she continued, doing her absolute best to sound as if she was in control of the situation, “and I'm going to need you to tell me who you are and why you're so interested in this child.”

She waited, but the figure seemed to be simply staring at her. For a few seconds she began to think that she could almost make out his face, but that sensation quickly faded. Confused, she felt as if her senses weren't quite working properly, as if her eyes were being clouded by something.

“I'm armed and I'm not afraid to shoot,” she told him. “If you think that we're defenseless in here, you've got another thing coming. I'll shoot first and ask questions later, so it's really in your best interests to start talking.” The windowpanes had begun to rattle a little more heavily in their frames. “Your name is... Saint Thomas, right? And you're the uncle of the little girl I've got with me in here. Do I have those basic facts correct?”

The figure remained completely still for a few seconds, before turning as if to walk back to the door.

“If you try to enter this cottage I'll shoot you!” she said firmly.

The figure stopped, as if that threat had at least caught his attention.

“I won't even hesitate,” she continued, hoping against hope now that she at least sounded a little more dominant. “You need to start answering my questions.”

“So the door's out, huh?” he replied, raising his voice so that it was just about visible from the other side of the wall.

“Until you start talking,” she told him. “I have a duty of care for this little girl.”

“You're not gonna let me in?”

“What do you want from her?”

“That's not what you're supposed to say,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “Can you please just get with the program here?”

“I'm the one asking the questions,” she insisted, although she was starting to wonder exactly what he meant. “What are you doing out here? Why are you chasing this little girl?”

“You're supposed to say something about your hairy chin.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“But I can work with this,” he continued calmly. “I guess I shouldn't have expected you to be so well-versed in the classics. I skipped Peter and the Wolf entirely, 'cause that one has kinda faded from the public consciousness a little, hasn't it? I happen to love it but, hey, I know it's futile to fight changes. The modern world is what it is.”

“I don't understand what you're talking about,” she told him.

“Are you not a Prokofiev fan, Agent Chandler?”

“I swear,” she continued, “if you don't start talking sense soon, you'll regret it.”

“How about I keep it simple?” he replied. “You look so fine, standing there in your red outfit. Would you mind putting up the hood, just to give me a chuckle?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but at the last second she held back as she felt a shiver of fear running through her body.

“So now we're onto the part,” he continued, “where I start threatening to huff and puff. Are you with me now? We've switched to a different tale altogether. I've tried to get inside, and you've denied me access, and you didn't do the part about your hairy chin but that's alright – we'll skip those lines. So now it's my turn to make the threats.” Holding up a hand, he tapped the window gently as more rain ran down on the outside. “You need to know that I will find a way to get you out of there. You're my little piggy, aren't you? Or my little sardine in a can. Either way, the wind's picking up out here, Agent Penelope Chandler, and soon it'll be strong enough. And do you know what I'll do then?”

He leaned closer to the window, until she could just about make out one eye glaring at her. The man's other eye, meanwhile, was hidden under a patch.

“I'll huff,” he said darkly, “and I'll puff, and -”

“I'm warning you to get out of here!” she shouted, momentarily losing all control as she stepped back from the window and held her gun up, aiming at him through the glass. “Do you know anything about a nose I found in a basket?”

“A nose?”

“Don't play dumb with me!”

“Oh, that might be something I did,” he admitted, sounding untroubled by the accusation. “You see, if I'm totally honest, my associates and I have killed a lot of people lately, so we've had access to plenty of body parts. It's entirely possible that a nose or two could've gone astray, but to be honest I don't really see that it matters one way or another. You need to focus on the more important issues we're facing here.”

“Who are you?” she whispered under her breath as she heard Eloise sobbing wildly in the corner. “Who are you really?”

“You don't have long,” he said firmly. “I'm getting my hands on you, one way or another. Now, this old cottage has been here for a long time and I don't particularly wanna blow it down, but it seems you're gonna force me to do just that. If you do, you need to understand that I won't be in a very good mood. And I'm afraid that, in those circumstances, I'm gonna have to find someone I can take all my anger out on. Can you imagine that, Agent Penelope Chandler?”

His grin grew broader still.

“Can you imagine,” he added, “just how much I could hurt you as you die? Do you even know how loud you can scream?”

Chapter Fifteen

Sobolton, USA – 1997...

“Why doesn't anyone do anything about her?” a woman's voice whispered softly. “It's not nice seeing her around all the time. Aren't there vagrancy laws they could use to... take her away?”

Sitting on the ground in an alleyway, pale and emaciated, Clanath knew that two women were watching her but she no longer cared. Any human would have wasted away and died by now, yet Clanath was finding that even the process of starving to death took longer for one of her kind. Sometimes she worried that death might never come at all, that the agonizing hunger in her belly might last forever, but she told herself that the world couldn't be quite so cruel.

And at least while she was so thin and frail, there was no danger that the thing in the forest could get any stronger.

“Has anyone ever tried talking to her?” the second woman asked. “She's obviously seriously mentally ill, but someone might be able to reason with her.”

“She smashed up the store in town a few years ago,” the first woman explained. “I guess that must have been before you moved here. Then she vanished for a while before coming back. She comes and goes like that, and I really don't think the sheriff or anyone else can work out what to do about her. To be honest, I think they're just waiting for her to...”

Silence fell, and after a moment Clanath turned and looked at them both.

“Do you think she can hear us?” the first woman continued, as she and her companion stood silhouetted against the darkening evening sky. “Is she even American?”

“Let's leave her alone,” the second woman said, stepping out of view. “Come on, we really don't want to attract her attention.”

“This town is going to the dogs,” the first woman muttered, turning to follow. “First that Leonard kid, now -”

“Wait!” Clanath stammered, hauling herself up from the ground and stumbling to the end of the alley. “What did you just say?”

Shocked, the two women turned and stared at her with expressions of absolute disgust.

“The smell,” one of them said, holding up a hand to protect her nose.

“What did you say about the Leonard boy?” Clanath asked. “Do you mean Ringo Leonard?”

“Now, why is that any of your business?” the first woman asked. “You don't know him.”

“Is he alright?”

The women glanced at one another for a moment, as if neither of them quite wanted to be the one to answer.

“For what it's worth,” the first woman continued, “it's none of our business, either. Apparently he got into one hell of a fight a while back. He and his father started arguing, and things got out of hand. Neighbors called the cops and by the time help arrived... well, they found Ringo Leonard all beaten and bloodied, holding a rifle and standing over his father. From what I heard, it took the cops a good long while to talk him out of pulling the trigger, and then they hauled him away to jail.”

“Where is he now?” Clanath asked.

“He wasn't there long,” the woman explained. “Some people reckon he's back in the area, that he's maybe living rough somewhere in the forest. I don't know whether that's true. All I know for certain is that his father Jason Leonard is a mean bully who beats his wife damn near every day. Everyone's known that for years. And while I wouldn't want to wish harm on anyone, I don't think too many people would've shed a tear if Ringo had pulled that trigger. In fact, I think half the town would've cheered him on.”

***

“How did you find me?” Ringo asked, standing in the doorway of the cottage, before looking her up and down for a moment. “What the hell happened to you? You look terrible!”

“How long ago did you get out of jail?” Clanath replied.

“A few weeks back,” he admitted, before turning and limping inside. “I couldn't go home, not after everything that happened. I had some crazy idea that I might be able to persuade Mom to leave with me, I thought she might finally see that Dad's not a good person.” He stopped and looked at the cold, empty hearth. “Instead she took his side,” he continued. “I've tried talking to her twice, but she doesn't want to know. She tried to tell me that the argument a while back was all my fault, that I provoked Dad. She made me so angry, I said I wished I'd pulled the trigger and blown the old bastard's head off.”

He paused for a moment.

“The truth is,” he added, “I think that might have been the best choice.”

Stepping into the cottage, she saw old library books scattered across the floor, some of them with their pages torn out. She wanted to say something to make the situation better, but for a few seconds she could only watch Ringo as she realized that his entire life appeared to be spiraling out of control.

“I don't think there's anything more that I can do here,” he said darkly. “I've tried. Maybe someone else could've done better. Maybe not. I don't know, but I'm all out of options.”

“You can't fix another person's soul,” she told him. “Believe me, I know that from bitter experience.”

Turning, she looked at the window. The shadows were lengthening and she was already calculating how long she could stay before she'd need to head back into town. No matter what else happened, she knew that she still couldn't risk getting caught in the forest at night.

“I think I know what I have to do,” Ringo added.

She turned to him again.

“I have to forget about it all,” he continued. “Do you know the crazy part? I can't even escape into books, not anymore. That used to work when I was a kid, I could read and pretend I was somewhere else for a while, even that I was a different person. Since that night when I almost killed Dad, I can't read the same way. It's like the stories have lost their power. I got so angry, I ripped some of my favorite books apart. In the end, there's one page – just one – that still does anything for me. I hid that page away in here, where I can't rip it apart, but the rest...”

He paused for a few more seconds.

“I'm going to burn the rest,” he added. “That's all they're good for now.”

“I need to go soon,” she told him, glancing at the window again. “It's going to get dark.”

“Then go,” he replied. “I didn't ask you to come here. I don't need help.”

“I'll come back tomorrow.”

“Don't bother. Everyone goes away in the end. People offer to stay and help, but they never do. You're just the same as the rest of them.”

“I want to stay,” she told him desperately, “but... it's going to get dark and I can't be in the forest at night. Don't ask why, but I just can't. You can come to the town with me, though. Why don't we go now? Why don't we go together?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because at night I can't quite control myself as well,” he explained. “It's like the moon makes me all funny inside. At night... I just know I'd go back to that house, and this time I wouldn't be able to restrain myself. I'd kill the old bastard, and then I'd probably kill Mom as well, and then I'd end up turning the gun on myself. In fact, some nights out here, I get to thinking that I should just end everything.”

“Please don't think like that,” she replied with tears in her eyes. “I want to help you, I swear, and I'll come back out in the morning. Can you just wait until then?”

Staring into the hearth, he offered her no answer.

“It's going to be dark soon,” she told him, and now her voice was filling with more and more desperation. “I can't be out here when it's dark, I just... I can't. I wish I could explain why not. Just promise me that you'll still be here tomorrow morning, and that you won't do anything foolish until I return.”

“Go,” he said softly, still staring at the hearth. “Please, just... go.”

She opened her mouth to beg him, and then she hesitated as she wondered whether this time she might actually be able to defeat her demons. If she stayed with Ringo in the cottage, couldn't she ignore anything that seemed to be calling to her from outside? For a fraction of a second she wondered whether she might be strong enough, but she quickly realized that the idea was impossible. Already she could somehow feel the darkness of the forest approaching, and she worried that at any moment she might hear those tiny bones rattling somewhere nearby. Filled with a sense of genuine panic, she backed away toward the door.

“I've got to go,” she stammered, already worried that she might have left it too late. “I'm sorry, but I have no choice. Please, just... just be here tomorrow!”

With that, she turned and raced away, hurrying through the forest as she felt the shadows closing in. All she knew was that she had to reach the town soon, and that she could return to the cottage first thing in the morning. And then, as she scrambled down a slope leading toward the road, she realized that she could already hear bones shaking in the distance.

“Leave me alone!” she gasped. “Please, you have to understand!”

Chapter Sixteen

Today...

Standing in the corner of the cottage, with her gun raised, Penelope kept her eyes fixed on the door. She'd retreated to a spot away from all the windows, and now she was waiting for the guy outside the cottage to make his move. Rain was still falling and wind was blowing through gaps in the roof, but now the guy had been quiet for ten minutes or even longer. That didn't mean, however, that he was gone.

“It's all happening again,” Eloise said finally.

Penelope turned and looked down at her.

“People are getting hurt because of me,” the girl said softly, with tears in her eyes. “I shouldn't have let this happen.”

“None of it's your fault,” Penelope replied.

“Sometimes I wish I'd never left the ice,” Eloise told her. “At least when I was in the ice, I was safe and no-one could get to me, and everyone else was happy.”

“What are you talking about?” Penelope asked. “What ice?”

“I was so far down,” she continued, “but I could still see people. I could see when they were looking at me. I remember being so pleased that they'd found me. Then they took me out and I couldn't stop them cutting me up. I was so weak, and it took me a long time to get better. But if I'd just stayed in the ice then everything might have been alright.”

“I really don't understand what you're telling me,” Penelope replied, “but this probably isn't the best time to think about regrets, okay? You're just a little girl and I'm going to get you out of here.”

“I don't think I am just a little girl,” Eloise said softly. “I know that's what I look like, and Mommy doesn't want me to let my other side out, but I don't know if I can keep pretending that it doesn't exist. Sometimes I think she wants me to pretend that I'm completely human.”

“Well...”

Holding back for a moment, Penelope looked into Eloise's eyes and began to wonder whether the girl was completely insane. At the same time, she remembered some of the things that Mendelson had told her; he'd warned her that Sobolton could be a strange place, and he'd also made a number of unorthodox suggestions while asking her to pop over to check things out in the town. She'd been torn between half-believing and half-dismissing those suggestions, yet now her mind was opening to some of the more outlandish ideas.

“Eloise,” she said cautiously, “I need you to be completely honest with me. I need to know whether -”

Suddenly she heard a loud banging sound, followed by a series of thuds. Turning to look back across the cottage, she realized that the wind had become much stronger now; stones were rattling and wooden panels were shaking, and a moment later part of the far wall collapsed as the wind finally blasted through.

“He's blowing the house down!” Penelope gasped, aiming her gun at the distant gap and fully expecting to see the strange man appear. “He's doing it just like they did in those -”

Before she could finish, the entire roof broke away, blowing to one side and then smashing into the trees that could now be seen towering high above the cottage.

“I told you he wouldn't leave us alone!” Eloise sobbed. “He's never going to stop until he gets me!”

In that moment, Saint Thomas stepped into view. Penelope immediately flinched as she recognized his arrogant swagger, and she aimed her gun at him as he slowly made his way across what remained of the forest.

“That won't work,” Eloise whimpered. “Normal bullets don't hurt them.”

“Have I finally managed to prove my point?” Saint Thomas asked, stopping just a few feet away and holding his arms out as rain lashed down against them all. “I can do it again, if you want. I can take this stupid little cottage apart atom by atom, if you're really too stubborn to accept the truth. Or you could play nice and admit that your pathetic little standoff is now over.”

“Who are you,” Penelope sneered, “and what do you want with the girl?”

“I'm her uncle,” he said firmly. “Her father is dead and her mother's unable to take care of her. Her other uncle is gone, as are her grandparents, so I'm really the only capable family she has left. Is it so wrong of me to want to care for her?”

“What's your name?” she asked.

“I thought I'd already told you that,” he replied. “My name is Saint Thomas and I -”

“That's not a name!” she snapped, still aiming the gun at him.

“It is if you're from a slightly peculiar family,” he countered. “My father named his firstborn Michael, because he knew he had to have a traditional name since the firstborn was destined to take the crown. Then he named me Saint Thomas after some old saint from England. Daddy was always something of a weirdo like that. And then my other brother... well, he never really fit in too well. We eventually gave him the nickname Turncoat, but he's gone too. He's resting at the bottom of the lake and I'm pretty sure he's never coming back.”

He took a step forward.

“Don't come any closer!” Penelope hissed.

“Poor Turncoat was head over heels in love for most of his life,” Saint Thomas continued. “So was Michael, actually. Turncoat loved a wolf named Clanath. She's gone now, but he dedicated his life to her, even though she was so old and weak. Meanwhile Michael had the hots for this human woman, she's still around but honestly she's nothing more than an annoyance. The one good thing that came out of it all, however, is little Eloise. You see, Turncoat and Clanath tried over and over again for cubs of their own, but they never succeeded. Meanwhile Michael and Lisa did the deed once and spat out young Eloise. The circumstances of her conception were rather unfortunate, but that's old news. What matters is that technically she could be seen by some as the heir to the throne.”

He took another step forward.

“This is your last warning,” Penelope said through clenched teeth.

“I'm best placed to lead the wolves now that Michael's gone,” he explained. “Everyone else'll see that eventually. Our kind have spent too long clinging to an unworkable agreement with the humans. It's time to rip that up and get things back to how they used to be, which means reclaiming the land that old Mr. Sobolton took all those centuries ago. I wasn't around back then, but it's absurdly obvious now that the humans won't ever stick to an agreement. I'm not saying that I want war, or that I'm looking forward to it, but when something's inevitable you just have to get on with it.”

“I don't have a clue what you're talking about,” she replied, “but you can try explaining your little story in an interrogation cell. I sure as hell don't have time for more of this bullshit.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Don't push me,” she said firmly, taking a moment to aim the gun better. “You won't like what happens if you push me.”

“Your bullets won't work on me,” he said darkly. “I probably won't even notice them. At best, they might tickle a little.”

“Oh yeah?” she replied. “We'll see about that.”

“Don't get cocky,” he said, stepping even closer. “Your chances of enjoying a painless death are inversely proportional to the amount you wag your stupid little tongue at me and -”

Stopping suddenly, he furrowed his brow as he looked at the gun. He listened as the bullets rattled slightly.

“What's that all about?” he asked cautiously. “Why are they doing that? It's almost as if they're made of -”

Before he could get another word out, Penelope shot him three times in the chest.

Letting out a gasp, Saint Thomas took a couple of steps back before wincing as the three silver bullets started to fizz and burn in his body. He reached up and tried to pull them out, before glaring at Penelope.

“You stupid bitch!” he snarled. “What have you done? How did you -”

She fired again, pulling the trigger three more times and blowing his head apart, sending chunks of skull and brain matter against part of a remaining wall as his body crumpled down against the floor.

“Okay,” she said, scarcely able to believe that her plan had worked, as she grabbed Eloise's hand and pulled her out into the dark, rain-swept forest. “We're getting out of here. Right now!”

Shocked, Eloise looked down as she was dragged out of the cottage. All that remained of Saint Thomas was a headless corpse on the floor, with most of his head having been sprayed and splattered across the far end of the room.

“Come on!” Penelope shouted above the rain. “Move!”

Chapter Seventeen

Sobolton, USA – 2004...

“Jason, are you in tomorrow?” a voice called out, as the front door of McGinty's swung open and light from inside briefly silhouetted a stumbling figure. “Jason, are you so drunk you can't even hear me now?”

“I'll be in tomorrow,” Jason Leonard murmured, stumbling out into the street and then stopping for a moment as the door swung shut behind him. Letting out a loud burp, he took a moment to wipe his lips. “Don't you worry about that,” he added, before turning and starting to stagger away from the bar. “I'll be in tomorrow, and the night after, and the night after that. I'll be in every night until the end of time.”

Stumbling, he almost fell, only just managing to grab a post and hold himself up in time. Taking a deep breath, he tried to summon the strength to continue the long walk home, which in that moment felt utterly impossible. And then, hearing a rustling sound, he turned to look along a nearby alley. Snow was falling, blanketing the sidewalk, and Jason wanted to get home, but he couldn't shake the sense that he was being watched.

“Who's there?” he called out. “Show your face!”

He waited, and after a moment Clanath stepped into view. Still so very pale and thin, she too seemed barely able to stand – albeit for very different reasons.

“I've seen you around,” he continued. “What are you doing here in Sobolton, anyway? Haven't you got anyone who cares about you?”

“I know who you are,” she replied. “I tried to help your son once, but he left town before I got the chance. If I'd just stayed with him that night, everything might have been different. Instead I let my fear take over, and the next morning he was gone. Ever since that night, I've wondered whether I could have found a way to be stronger. And braver.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he sneered. “Do you actually think anyone wants to hear your inane rambling nonsense?”

Clanath stared at him for a moment longer, before stepping back into the shadows.

“Perhaps you're right,” she said, her voice emerging from the darkness. “Perhaps words are no use now. Perhaps actions are required.”

“You don't know anything about me,” Jason murmured. “Or my lousy, pathetic excuse of a son. So keep your nose out of -”

Before he could finish, he heard a loud crunching sound, followed by a series of cracks and bumps. Furrowing his brow, he stared into the darkness of the alley and listened as a voice let out several gasps of pain. He wanted to call out, to ask the mad old woman what she was doing now, but instead he hesitated as he realized that he was hearing something otherworldly, something that – on some deep instinctual level – he knew had no place in the civilized human town of Sobolton. And the more he listened, the more he felt a sickening sense of dread until finally after a few minutes the alley fell silent again.

“Are you still there?” he said cautiously, still struggling to stay on his feet. “Hey, I'm talking to you! Answer me! Are you still there?”

He waited, and after a few seconds he realized that he could see something moving in the darkness. He leaned forward and squinted to get a better view, and then he let out a shocked gasp as he saw a painfully thin wolf slowly stepped out into the electric light.

“What the...”

Pulling back, he lost his balance and fell down hard onto the sidewalk. The wolf, meanwhile, was edging closer and slowly began to let out an angry snarl.

“Hey,” Jason stammered, holding up a hand as he suddenly felt a lot more sober, “easy there. I don't want any trouble. Do you understand? Lady, hey, does this wolf belong to you? Is -”

Before he could manage so much as another word, several shots rang out, hitting the wall and sending the wolf scurrying away back along the alley.

“Damn thing!” a voice called out. “Everybody stay calm! There's nothing to worry about here, just a raccoon that looked like it had a nasty taste for human flesh!”

Several people had emerged from nearby buildings, shocked by the sound of gunfire, but they began to head back inside again as Jason hauled himself up. He felt someone taking hold of his arm, and finally he turned to see that Joe Hicks – the newly-installed sheriff of Sobolton – had come to his aid.

“You okay there, Jason,” Joe asked. “Looks like you've had a bit of a wild few minutes.”

“Did you see it?” he asked, turning to look at the alley. “There was a wolf!”

“Well, I'm not so sure about that,” Joe replied. “I saw a raccoon but -”

“That was no raccoon!” Jason hissed. “I know a wolf when I see one!”

“And I know a guy who's had too much to drink when I see one,” Joe muttered as he helped Jason onto a nearby bench. He glanced at the end of the alley for a few seconds, just to make sure that there was no sign of trouble, and then he turned to Jason again. “You're out for another wild night, huh?” he continued. “You know, I've turned a blind eye for a while, but you're starting to become one of the town's more notorious drunks. You realize that, don't you?”

“I'm nothing of the sort!” Jason snapped angrily. “Okay, sure, I've had a few drinks but that doesn't mean I'm imagining things! I saw a wolf!”

“Jason,” Joe said with a sigh, still watching the alley for a moment before taking a seat next to him. “I've helped you out a few times in the past, haven't I? Do you remember when that boy of yours almost blew your goddamn head off? Who came out there and talked him down, and hauled his sorry ass to the station? That was before I became the big boss, but I still looked after you. And I'm going to keep on looking after you, even if your neighbors occasionally call to report the odd domestic disturbance.”

“I don't need your help,” Jason murmured.

“The point is, we're on the same side,” Joe added, “and I'll always have your back. And what you really have to remember is that there are no wolves in Sobolton. Not in the town and not in the forest. There simply aren't any. And it doesn't help if people go around making wild claims about such things. We don't want to create panic, do we?” He patted Jason on the back. “Come on, let's wait for you to get your breath back, and then I'll give you a ride home. I'm sure Nancy's getting worried about where you are.”

***

Hurrying out from the end of another snowy alley, still in her wolf form, Clanath barely had time to notice the streetlight turning green. As she reached the middle of the road, however, she heard the sound of screeching brakes, and she turned just in time to see a car slamming to a halt just a few meters away.

Although her first instinct was simply to turn and run, Clanath hesitated as she realized that she recognized the woman behind the wheel. Lisa Sondnes was staring back at her with a shocked expression, and while she wasn't up to date with all the latest developments, Clanath knew full well that Lisa was the woman who – many years earlier – had become briefly involved with Michael. Somehow that whole mess had ended, yet as she stared at Lisa now Clanath realized that she could sense great sadness and sorrow, as if on some level she was picking up on terrible things that were soon going to happen.

For a moment she wanted to warn Lisa, to change into her human form and tell her to get as far away from Sobolton as possible. At the same time, she knew that sometimes fate had a way of keeping people trapped in its grasp, and Lisa was just such a person. Something truly awful was going to happen to her soon, but Clanath told herself that she had to avoid the wolves and their business.

Turning, she hurried away, embarrassed by the fact that she still looked so frail and emaciated. She raced across the parking lot and behind the diner; hearing a car horn blaring somewhere in the distance, she stopped for a moment to come up with a plan, and then she heard several vehicles driving past. Relieved that Lisa seemed to be gone, she slumped down against the snowy ground, telling herself that she just needed to rest for a few minutes. Changing into her wolf form had been a quick but exhausting process; she remembered when she'd been so young, when she'd changed merely to demonstrate her powers to Henry Sobolton. Now she was old, far older than any wolf she'd heard of before, and she wondered just how much longer she could spend clinging to life.

Waiting for her strength to return, she felt snow falling against her body as she stared out past the rear of the diner. For the first time in her long life, she was starting to realize that the end must be fast approaching.

Chapter Eighteen

One day ago...

“Nellie, I need you to listen to me,” Mendelson said. “What were you doing in that bathroom, anyway? Did I hear you puking?”

“I get it,” she replied, wiping some spittle from her lips as she slumped back down onto the bed and picked the phone up again. “You want me to go to some dumb little town called Sobolton and check that everything's alright. Just promise me I won't end up getting sacrificed to some stupid corn god or anything like that.”

“Nellie, I want you to do something for me.”

“Another favor?”

“It's not a favor. Not really. It's just that I've heard a few rumors about Sobolton over the years, and there's one thing that's always kinda stuck. I have no evidence for it whatsoever and I know full well that I'm gonna sound completely crazy, but I just... I need you to indulge me.”

“Anything to get off this call.”

“When you go to Sobolton tomorrow, I need you to take one thing with you, and I need you to not ask questions. Just do it, okay?” He hesitated for a few seconds. “Swing by the field office on your way out there,” he added, “and grab some of those special bullets in the room at the back. You know... the ones tipped with silver.”

***

Today...

“We can't stop!” Penelope shouted over the rain, as she kept hold of Eloise's hand and they raced together down a steep muddy slope. “We can't even look back!”

“I can't run this fast!” Eloise sobbed, almost slipping yet again. “We need to slow down!”

“There might be more of them,” Penelope replied, “and -”

In that moment Eloise lost her footing and fell. Although she tried to keep the girl up, Penelope quickly lost her balance as well, and together they slithered down the slope before slamming to a halt against the trunk of a large tree.

Wincing, Penelope began to get up, before freezing as she saw that Eloise had fallen against a long thin branch on the ground, which had burst through her belly and out through her back. Horrified by the sight, Penelope realized that the girl had been impaled, and she saw blood starting to spread across the back of her dress.

“No,” she stammered, “please, it's not -”

In that moment, Eloise lurched back, breaking the branch and then turning to look down at the section that was poking out through the front of her belly. Reaching out with trembling hands, she took hold of the branch and began to twist, slowly but surely pulling it out of her body.

“Wait!” Penelope gasped. “I think you need to leave that in until...”

She watched as Eloise finished pulling the branch out. Setting it aside, the girl leaned back against the side of the tree as more and more blood gushed from the hole in her body, but after a few seconds the flow appeared to slow down. Pulling the ripped section of her dress aside, Eloise revealed a thick wound just to one side of her navel, but already this wound was somehow closing, as if the flesh was stitching itself together.

“Until we reach the...”

Penelope stared in shock as the wound finished healing.

“The hospital,” she added finally, before looking at Eloise's face.

After a moment, Eloise was unable to stifle a faint smile.

“How did you do that?” Penelope gasped. “You should be... you should be almost... dead!”

“I can't explain it to you right now,” Eloise told her. “I think... I mean, Mommy told me that humans can get very funny about stuff like this. When they don't understand something, they tend to get scared, and when they get scared... they can be really mean.”

“There'll be time for explanations later,” Penelope agreed, getting to her feet and taking hold of Eloise's hand again. “Lots of explanations. Right now -”

“It's him!” Eloise screamed suddenly, pointing back up the slope. “He's still coming!”

Turning, Penelope looked through the rain and spotted a figure stumbling into view. Her first thought was that this figure looked a great deal like the Saint Thomas guy she'd just killed in the cottage, but a moment later the figure slowly turned toward her and she realized two other things: first, this actually was the same guy she'd already shot six times in the cottage; and second, most of his head was still missing but chunks of bone and flesh appeared to be slowly growing back.

“That's impossible,” she stammered, convinced that somehow she had to be imagining the sight of him. “There's no way this can be real. I have to be... I'm hallucinating!”

“We don't have much time!” Eloise shouted, trying to drag her away.

For a few seconds, Penelope could only watch as the man's face continued to return, with one of the eyes still missing. And then, slowly, what remained of his entire body began to change, ripping his clothes apart as he dropped down onto all fours. A cry of pain rang out, even as the man's face disappeared into a seething mess of meat and muscle and bone and what appeared to be fur. His body appeared to be completely rearranging itself, before slowly a head-like mass emerged at one end and a huge set of fangs began to burst out from beneath rapidly-growing gums.

“What's he... what's he turning into?” Penelope whispered.

“That's his real form!” Eloise shouted, pulling as hard as she could manage against the older woman's hand. “If you don't run right now, we won't have a chance! The rain might dull his senses, at least at first, so we might be able to get away – but only if we move right now!”

Suddenly shaken out of her shocked state, Penelope realized that Eloise was right. She turned and began to hurry through the forest, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder and increasingly convinced that somehow she'd imagined such a terrifying sight. She almost slipped in the mud a couple of times, and she almost lost her grip on Eloise's hands, but she was starting to realize that the girl was trying to lead her in a particular direction. And then, just as she was about to shout and ask where they were going, she realized that she could see a road far away, twisting and snaking its way through the forest.

“Hurry!” Eloise yelled. “We're nearly -”

Before she could finish, a large dark wolf stepped into their path. Slithering to a halt, Penelope and Eloise watched as the wolf turned to them, and its one remaining eye seemed almost to be burning with rage; the other eye, meanwhile, appeared to have been gouged out long ago, replaced by a thick and knotted scar.

“It's him!” Eloise gasped.

“Who?” Penelope stammered, even if deep down she was starting to understand that this was the same man – or creature – she'd first encountered back at the cottage. “But I shot him,” she pointed out. “I killed him. He barely had any of his head left! How can this be him?”

Ahead, the wolf let out a loud snarl.

“I can't run away,” Eloise sobbed. “He won't let me, and I don't think he'll agree to stop hurting everyone else, either.”

“I don't have more bullets,” Penelope told her. “Not silver ones, anyway. What can I do?”

“He's so much stronger than the other ones,” Eloise explained. “The silver bullets should have stopped him, but they only slowed him down.”

“I think I'm losing my mind,” Penelope replied. “How can a man turn into a... a...”

She hesitated, but a moment later she realized that Eloise's hand was changing. She looked down, and she was shocked to see that the girl's eyes were now filled with a yellowish-red color and that she too appeared to be in the process of transforming.

“Run!” Eloise snarled, as the front of her face began to split open and her gums became swollen, with large fangs starting to break through as she dropped to her knees. Pulling her hand away, she leaned forward as a series of loud crunching sounds crackled all through her body. “I'll hold him off for as long as I can, but I don't know how long that'll be! Get to the road and follow it into town, and find my mother and Sheriff Tench! Hurry, while you still can! I don't know how I -”

In that moment the larger one-eyed wolf lunged at her, slamming her into the mud. Still having not quite completed her transformation, Eloise growled and pushed back at him; for a moment she seemed hopelessly outmatched, until suddenly she pushed with all her strength, knocking him off balance and sending them both tumbling down the muddy slope until they disappeared behind some nearby trees.

Turning, Penelope raced away, desperate to get to the road and somehow find her way to safety – and sanity.

Chapter Nineteen

Sobolton, USA – 2007...

“You don't understand!” the voice shouted in the distance, as Clanath reached the edge of the clearing and stopped for a moment. “They'll never see it that way.”

Having reverted to her wolf form for a few hours, she'd returned to the forest during daylight, hoping to clear her mind after spending so long among the humans. She'd absent-mindedly picked her way between the trees, heading in no particular direction but vaguely aware that at some point she must have passed Cutter's Hill. Now, as she listened to the continuing argument raging up ahead, she finally realized that she'd strayed close to one of the old cabins that had been left behind by the humans many years earlier.

Not just any cabin, either.

This – she knew from whispered rumors – was where Michael was keeping Lisa Sondnes as his captive.

“Don't you remember what they did to you before?” she heard him yelling. “Do you actually think that they'll do less to you this time? If they ever get their hands on your again, Lisa, you'll be lucky if they don't cut out half your brain!”

She remembered how sweet and kind Michael had been as a child, but clearly now something had changed. She hated to think of Lisa spending every single day trapped in that awful place, yet at the same time she'd long since sworn to keep out of such matters. And then, as she told herself that she needed to keep going, she heard a rustling sound and turned just in time to see Saint Thomas – also in his wolf form – slowly making his way over.

She looked toward the cabin again, trying to show him that she wasn't interested in his presence. A moment later, in a clear attempt to refute that implication, he bumped against her as he stopped to follow her gaze.

“I don't care,” Michael snapped in the cabin. “You can think what you want, but you're being naive. And if you think I'm ever going to risk letting them get their hands on you again, you're wrong. I lost you once, Lisa. I can't ever let that happen again.”

Saint Thomas bumped against her side again, evidently keen to get her attention. Clanath, however, was already irritated by his presence, so she slowly turned and began to lumber away.

And then she stopped as she heard him let out a low, rumbling snarl. She knew that he was challenging her, that he wanted her to stay, and she also knew that technically he outranked her in the pack. After so many years drifting in and out of wolf society, she felt that she'd more than earned her right to challenge his authority, even to ignore him, yet she worried that he might force the issue. Saint Thomas was – after his own father – the biggest and strongest wolf around, and he could easily overcome her in a physical confrontation. Turning to look back at him, she saw that he was baring his teeth, and she realized in that moment that she had no choice. For now, at least, she had to stay close to him.

Feeling utterly humiliated, she began to pad her way back over.

“It's all going to be okay,” Michael was saying, his voice drifting out from the cabin. “I'm working on a plan. We won't be stuck here forever.”

Stepping past her, Saint Thomas began to make his way out into the clearing. As he did so, he glanced briefly at Clanath, and she knew what this meant; she reluctantly began to follow him, while ruing her decision to venture into the forest that day. With each step closer to the cabin she felt as if both she and Saint Thomas were intruding, as if they were venturing into a separate world that existed in a bubble set slightly apart from the rest of the forest. Sniffing, she noticed that the scent around the cabin was so very different to any that she had picked up on before, being neither as dirty as the smells in town or as vibrant as the world of the wolves. And as she stopped next to Saint Thomas at the foot of the steps leading up to the cabin, she couldn't help but shudder.

“I'll give you some time to think about it,” Michael said, and suddenly the door swung open.

“I just want to go back into Sobolton for a few hours,” Lisa sobbed gently. “Why can't -”

In that moment, Michael slammed the door shut.

“What do you want?” he asked, glaring at Saint Thomas. “Both of you. You've got no reason to be here.”

Staring up at him, Clanath was shocked by his appearance. She remembered Michael as a young, strong wolf, yet in his human form he looked utterly awful: his skin was peeling and bloodied, and he looked almost as if he was on the verge of falling apart. She'd picked up on whispers about his separation from the pack, and she'd noticed that the scent of his wolf form had long since faded away from the paths and trails of the forest, but she still couldn't quite believe that he'd become such a wreck. Even Clanath, in her worst moments, had always remembered that she could only sustain a human appearance for so long, that every so often she had to refresh herself by changing back to her more natural form.

A moment later, Saint Thomas let out a low snarl.

“I don't speak wolf,” Michael said mockingly. “Not right now. If you want to talk to me, Saint Thomas, you know what you have to do.”

In response, Saint Thomas bared his fangs.

“Clanath, can you tell him?” Michael continued, turning to her. He hesitated for a few seconds. “What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked. “Have you finally returned to the pack?”

She tilted her head very slightly. The movement was almost imperceptible, something that a wolf would notice but a human would certainly miss.

“I see,” Michael continued. “Listen, whatever you want to do, both of you need to stay away from here. Lisa and I are... we're doing fine. We're getting on with things and we're living our lives out here away from everyone else. We're happy. We don't need outside involvement.”

Hearing a continued snarl from Saint Thomas, Clanath turned and saw that his back was slightly raised and that his hackles were stirring. Every inch of his body was exhibiting a sense of great anger, and she was starting to worry that he intended to force the issue with Michael. She'd seen the brothers play-fighting before when they were younger and she felt sure that Saint Thomas would have the edge, but she still didn't want to witness the violence. At the same time, she knew that it would be so very typical of Saint Thomas to insist on having witnesses while he taught his brother a lesson.

A moment later, spotting movement nearby, she looked up at one of the windows and saw Lisa's face staring out. Much thinner and older than before, Lisa was clearly struggling with her enforced existence in the cabin. Clanath had overheard plenty of conversations about Lisa's disappearance over the years, even if the posters asking for information had become few and far between. In truth, she wasn't really sure about the relationship between Michael and his human partner, but she hated the idea of anyone being held as a prisoner. Part of her wanted to intervene, yet she knew that this wasn't her place.

In the hierarchy of the wolves, she had sunk over the years to a very lowly point.

“Well?” Michael said. “Clanath, you should go and find Turncoat. He's been looking for you again, although he's not quite the wolf he once was. And Saint Thomas, if you've got anything to say, then say it. Otherwise... I'm busy.”

Clanath waited, terrified that Saint Thomas might try to launch an attack, but finally – to her surprise – he turned and began to saunter away. He still had his usual swagger, suggesting that he believed he'd made his point, although she wasn't quite sure what that point had been about. As she watched him disappearing into the forest, she had to concede that while wolves had a very complex relationship to one another, sometimes they suffered from the inability to simply talk their problems out.

That was a matter usually best left to their leader, although she knew that he – the father of Saint Thomas, Michael and Turncoat – was drawing toward the end of his long life.

“Get out of here, Clanath,” Michael said.

She looked up at him again, then at the window. Lisa was still watching, and Clanath thought back to the night several years earlier when she'd seen that same face watching her from a car in the town.

“Did you hear me?” Michael yelled. “I don't want any interference! Go! Leave us alone!”

Suddenly something hard hit her flank, and Clanath turned to see that Michael had thrown a small rock at her. She instinctively let out an angry snarl, but he was already picking up a second rock; wanting neither a fight or the indignity of being struck again, she turned and hurried away, making sure to avoid the spot where Saint Thomas had vanished between the trees.

“And don't come back!” Michael shouted. “Both of you! Lisa and I are fine here! We don't need anyone else!”

Once she was back in the forest, Clanath immediately realized that Saint Thomas was nowhere nearby. She felt a rush of relief as she set off in the direction of Sobolton, determined to get back to the town and resume her lowly life as a vagrant in human form. There were many hours still until sundown, but she felt a restless worry that somehow she might be delayed, that she might by some terrible accident end up trapped in the forest at night.

And that, she knew deep down, was something she would never survive again.

Chapter Twenty

Today...

Slipping again, Penelope let out a pained yelp as she tumbled down the slope. She tried to save herself, but instead she rolled for several meters before finally hitting the asphalt. Sitting up immediately, she looked around and realized that at least she'd finally managed to reach the road.

As soon as she was on her feet, she started limping forward, figuring that she needed to follow the road as it ran down into the valley. Her ankles were both burning with pain and she worried that she might have broken several ribs, but all she knew was that she had to get to Sobolton and call for help. Her mind was racing as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened; part of her hated the idea of leaving Eloise behind, yet she knew that Eloise was another of those... things.

“So,” she imagined herself telling her bosses later, “I discovered a bunch of werewolves living in a forest outside a small town in -”

“Let me cut you off right there,” they would inevitably reply. “Here at the F.B.I., we don't believe in fairy tales and silly stories. This entire report is clearly the work of someone undergoing some kind of psychotic episode. You're going to be transferred to a secure psychiatric center for treatment.”

“But it's true!” she imagined herself sobbing as she was fitted into a straitjacket and dragged out backward through the double doors. “I swear it's all true! There are werewolves in Sobolton! Why won't anybody believe me?”

“I'll find proof,” she whispered now, under her breath. “I don't know how, but... I'll blow the lid open on this thing. I'll prove it to everyone.”

Rain was still falling, although less intensely than before.

“I'll get help,” she continued, struggling to find the strength required for each and every step as she limped along the road. “Someone'll know what to do. Someone has to be -”

Suddenly spotting movement ahead, she watched as a small grayish wolf limped out of the forest. The wolf stopped and turned to her, and for a moment Penelope felt herself starting to panic until she realized that this definitely wasn't the larger, darker one-eyed wolf she'd seen earlier. She began to step forward again, looking into the wolf's eyes, and already she was filled with a growing sense of realization. She told herself that she must be imagining things, but finally she dropped to her knees and looked more deeply into the wolf's eyes.

Bloodied and battered, and panting heavily, the wolf looked back at her.

“Eloise?” Penelope said cautiously, still not quite able to believe what was happening. “Is that... it can't be... Eloise, is that you?”

The wolf slumped down against the road, as if it was too weak to stand. Checking its fur, Penelope quickly found that it had been beaten and bitten in several spots, with blood running from a number of heavy wounds.

“No,” she stammered, trying to stay calm, “you're going to be okay. You're not -”

In that moment, sensing movement nearby, she turned just in time to see the dark, one-eyed wolf slowly emerging from the forest. It too was injured, with cuts all along its flank, and it was limping very slightly on one of its paws. As it reached the edge of the forest and stepped out onto the road, however, the creature straightened its gait and the limp seemed to fade away to nothing – as if the creature's body had already begun to heal itself.

“What did you do to her?” Penelope shouted through the rain. “I thought you wanted to save her, not kill her! What kind of monster are you?”

The smaller wolf turned and started snarling at the larger animal, holding its ground even as the much bigger beast approached. Finally stopping, the one-eyed wolf looked down at its opponent, seemingly amused by its show of petulant defiance. And then, just as a strange truce seemed to have broken out, the one-eyed wolf lunged down and bit the smaller wolf, picking it up and – despite its howls of pain – shaking it hard before throwing it hard against a nearby tree. Slamming into the trunk, the small wolf slumped down, landing in a motionless heap on the ground.

“You didn't have to hurt her!” Penelope shouted, instinctively reaching for her gun before remembering that it was long gone. “What's wrong with you?”

The larger wolf stopped to look at her for a moment, before slowly bowing its head.

Penelope waited, desperate to run but terrified that one wrong move might lead to disaster.

And then, slowly, she realized that the larger wolf was changing. Over the sound of rainfall rustling against trees, she heard a series of cutting and splitting noises that seemed to be coming from within the wolf's body. As much as she told herself that she had to be imagining things, she could already see the animal's form shifting, with the bones beneath its skin seemingly grinding against one another as they turned, twisted and broken. In places the wolf's skin had begun to tear, revealing a paler tone beneath; bones were visible in one or two spots, tearing the flesh as they themselves altered, but after a few more seconds the wolf's head lifted up to reveal that it had begun to crumple in on itself.

Frozen to the spot, too scared to run and too horrified to look away, Penelope could only watch as the creature slowly began to rise up onto its hind legs. The entire process had taken a few minutes already, but now the beast looked more like a man than a wolf, with a strong firm chest and at least the beginning of a human head. Now the creature was twitching in different directions, as if making a conscious effort to stretch its muscles across its ever-changing bones, and the last patches of fur were mostly disappearing from sight as rain continued to fall against its form. Piece by piece, what stood in the middle of the road now was far more human before, although the head was the last part to complete its transformation.

Over a few more seconds, the features of the eye-patched man rearranged themselves, finally revealing a broad, mocking grin.

He tilted his head to one side, bringing forth a loud cracking sound from his neck, and then he stood still and silent for a moment.

“What... what are you?” Penelope asked.

“What do you think I am?” he replied. “I -”

Suddenly he furrowed his brow, before tilting his head to the other side; some rainwater ran out from one of his ears.

“Never done that in such bad weather before,” he muttered. “The water really gets into inconvenient places.”

Penelope looked over at the small wolf, which remained motionless on the ground.

“Sorry if my nakedness embarrasses you,” the man continued. “It'd sure be convenient if clothes were part of the package, but... since when was life convenient, huh?”

“What are you?” she shouted again.

“You know exactly what I am,” he sneered. “You might not want to admit it, you might cling to the hope that I can't be real, but deep down you know.”

He took a step forward.

“Stay back!” she yelled.

“Or what?”

“Just... stay back,” she continued, as tears filled her eyes. “I'm an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and I... I came here to check that everything's normal. If anything happens to me, other agents will follow.”

“You shouldn't have made it this far at all,” he explained. “We have... ways of reaching into your little minds and turning you around. That wasn't possible with you, though.”

“Stay out of my head!” she snapped.

“Stay out?” He chuckled. “I've been in it already for the past thirty seconds or so. I've got to admit, though, I'm starting to understand why our little tricks didn't work on you at first. I've never poked around in a mind that's so... broken. Are you ever not drunk? Do you have any idea what your life of alcohol and pills and almost no sleep is doing to you? You've barely got a mind at all.”

“What's going on in this place?” she asked. “Mendelson told me that Sobolton was strange, but...”

“Those silver-tipped bullets were a nice touch,” he continued, stepping closer. “I must admit, I did not see those coming. Well, I did see them, but only far too late. It took me a while to pull myself together. A lot of my kind would have been finished off. Silver is so bad for us, you see. But I'm like my father, I have a rather hot-headed determination to survive at all costs. I'm not immortal, far from it, but a few cheap parlor tricks aren't enough to stop me.”

As she continued to stand her ground, he stopped in front of her and looked down into her horrified eyes.

“Did you like the Little Red Riding Hood stuff?” he continued, reaching out and touching the side of her red dress. “What about the huffing and puffing and blowing your house down? Don't act surprised, I'm actually remarkably well-read for a mere animal. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? You're thinking that I'm just some dumb brute from the forest.”

Shaking her head, she took a couple of steps back.

“I never liked those silly nursery rhymes,” he added. “They always make wolves out to be so mean. Talk about offensive stereotypes and downright mean propaganda. You people are constantly maligning us, always making us out to be so horrible. Is it any wonder that eventually we become rather pissed off about it all?”

“Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Revenge for a bunch of... fairy tales and nursery rhymes?”

“No, that's just the icing on top of the cake,” he continued, stepping over and looking at Eloise's wolf form for a moment, then nudging her with his foot. “She's a fast learner,” he muttered, seeing that she was still breathing – albeit rapidly, as if in pain. “Obviously she's still got a long way to go, but... not bad for a kid.”

He turned to Penelope again.

“Say it,” he purred. “Say what we are. I know you've figured it out by now, but say the word.”

She hesitated, before shaking her head.

“I won't be happy until I hear it,” he continued. “Trust me, you definitely don't want to annoy me any further, so it's in your best interests to just spit the word out. I'll give you a clue. It starts with the letter W, then there's an E and and R and then -”

“No!” she spluttered.

“You're making a big mistake,” he said firmly. “This could still go in one of several different ways for you, and in case you hadn't understood by now, you really need to stay on my good side. I mean, you really need me to like you. Otherwise, I might just dip into my thoughts about those horrible nursery rhymes and come up with something else to try out. I might even try to think of a whole new one. How about...”

He watched her for a moment, studying her carefully.

“How about Red-Eyed Nellie?” he added finally. “Your name's Penelope, right? For our purposes, we'll call you Nellie. Our tale will be a variation of earlier stories, but with a nice modern touch. Would you like to star in your own nursery rhyme, Nellie? Is that really how you want to die? Because if you don't, you can just say the word, say what I am and -”

Suddenly Penelope turned and ran, racing away along the road so fast that she almost tripped over her own feet.

“You've made the absolute worst choice possible,” Saint Thomas snarled, although he was unable to stifle a very faint grin. “Still, there's always an upside to these things. And I've got a feeling that I'm going to enjoy writing this particular story a great deal.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Sobolton, USA – 2009...

A solitary A4 printed black-and-white poster was still pasted to the wall near McGinty's. The poster had been almost completely bleached white by the sun, rendering the photo impossible to make out, but anyone with a little local knowledge of the area would still have been able to decipher the text:

MISSING

LISA SONDNES

Below that, some biographical information had been added, but the poster had gone mostly unnoticed for a number of years. Once there had been scores of them, dotted all around Sobolton, but over time people had begun to ignore them entirely. Now there was just one left, as a kind of reminder that Lisa had now been missing for five years.

Making his way over, Garth Lunnis – drummer and co-lyricist of local punk band Skinned Alive for My Lady – barely even noticed the old poster as he quickly daubed some paste over its surface. Working quickly, he placed a new poster in the spot, advertising an upcoming gig for his band in a local disused church. He spent a few seconds rubbing the front of the poster, trying to make it as smooth as possible, and then he hurried off again to find some more spots.

Now the last Lisa Sondnes poster had been covered, taking away the final reminder that anything untoward had ever happened to her at all. Sure, plenty of people in the town still remembered her name, but few ever really discussed the case. A few would probably mutter their annoyance at the sudden arrival of all these posters advertising some local band, but no-one would think about the image that had now been buried.

Lisa Sondnes was gone. Absolutely nobody in their right mind considered the possibility that she might still be alive out there somewhere.

***

“Just give me a moment,” Clanath muttered, still picking through the paltry collection of coins in her hand, trying to ignore her troubled thoughts and count out the exact change. “I'm nearly there.”

“Where'd you get all that from, anyway?” Doris asked as she watched from the other side of the counter. “Begging?”

“Payphones, mostly,” Clanath admitted. “I don't beg.”

Doris watched for a moment longer, before sighing and sliding the cup of coffee over to her.

“Keep your money,” she said, sounding distinctly unimpressed. “Just take the damn coffee and make sure you drink it before we start getting busy.”

“I don't accept charity,” Clanath said, finally setting some coins down. “Is that... is it enough?”

“Sure,” Doris lied, taking the coins and heading to the cash register. “Remember what I said, though. We'll start filling up around eleven, and no offense but... there's a certain odor that you seem to have brought in with you.”

Taking the coffee, Clanath turned to head over to the far end of the diner, only to freeze as she saw Sheriff Joe Hicks making his way inside. She'd heard a lot about Hicks over the years, and she was careful now to avoid catching his eye as she made her way to one of the nearby booths. As she sat down, however, she couldn't help but feel that his glare was burning into the back of her head.

Holding her coffee up, she tried to keep her hands from shaking.

“Having a nice day?”

She flinched as soon as she heard Joe's voice. Turning, she saw that he was watching her from the counter while Doris made up his usual order.

“I asked if you're having a nice day,” he continued, although he said each word slowly and carefully as if the entire question was heavily loaded. “Scraped together enough change for a drink, huh?”

She nodded, before looking back at the cup and hoping desperately that he was going to leave her alone.

“You spend a lot of time in the forest, don't you?” Joe said, making his way over and taking a seat opposite her. “I hope you don't mind me joining you while I wait for Doris to get things ready. I see you, though. I see you sometimes walking out there away from town, heading into the forest some mornings. Do you like it out there?”

“Sometimes,” she murmured, wondering whether she could simply make an excuse and leave.

“I get it,” he muttered, removing his hat and setting it down on the table between them. “You want to escape the confines of the town. Sobolton's sure a bustling place these days, isn't it? I remember when I was growing up, there was a lot less to it. Then again, I'm sure back in the old days it was even smaller. Hell, sometimes I find myself wondering exactly when and how it all got started.”

He kept his eyes fixed on her for a moment.

“Do you ever wonder things like that?” he added. “Where did the name Sobolton even come from, anyway?”

“I don't know,” she lied.

“I wasn't implying that you do,” he chuckled. “That'd be crazy, right? But I've been getting into my local history for a while now, trying to dig out old facts and come up with a better understanding of how Sobolton became Sobolton. Or Soboltonland, as it may well have been called back in the day. Do you have any idea how many mysteries there are? How many unanswered questions?”

“I should go,” she replied.

“I'll give you just one example,” he added before she had a chance to get to her feet. “Just one. Hear me out for a moment. Apparently, back in the day, there was a local superstition about a dumb little pendant that contained an old holy relic, and it's said that this relic granted protection to the whole town against... bad things that might come out of the forest. Wolves, according to some folk. I know, it all sounds preposterous, but bear with me for a moment longer.”

He hesitated, watching her carefully as if he was studying her reaction.

“The last confirmed mention of this relic,” he continued, clearly choosing his words very deliberately now, “dates from 1869, when it's believed to have been part of a badge worn by the town's very first sheriff. He was a guy named Patrick... something. Damn it, I can't remember his surname. Patrick...”

“I really need to go,” she said, standing up quickly.

“Damn it, what was his surname?” Joe sighed. “It's bugging me so much. Patrick -”

“Cochrane,” she replied.

“That's it!” he said with a relieved sigh. “Wasn't here long, by all accounts. Came in, served as sheriff for a day or two, then took off and was never seen or heard from ahead. Not round here, anyway. Then the next sheriff, a guy named Walter Wade, only lasted ninety minutes in the post before he was replaced. Poor Walter must have done a really bad job. But the point is, people are a little unclear about what happened to that pendant next. Some people believe it might even have been lost forever. Now, I'm finally getting to the crazy part, because guess what?”

Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled for a moment before pulling out a small silver pendant hanging from a chain.

“Look what I've got here,” he continued, with a hint of awe in his voice now. “I won't bore you with the details of how I acquired it, but let's just say that I worked long and hard to find the thing.” He held the pendant out toward her, and it almost immediately started to shake and rattle. “That's odd,” he added, furrowing his brow. “I wonder... why's it doing that? It almost seems -”

“I've got to go,” Clanath spluttered, turning and hurrying out of the diner.

“What about your coffee?” Joe asked with a smile, watching as she headed outside and disappeared into the morning light.

Rolling his eyes, he got to his feet and wandered back over to the counter just as Doris finished setting his order down.

“Is that true?” she asked, looking at the pendant in his hand. “What you said just now about that thing... is it actually true?”

“The story's true,” Joe replied, holding the pendant out for her to see. “Unfortunately, my efforts to locate the thing haven't been as successful as I would have liked. I'm still working on it, though. I won't ever stop searching for that damn pendant.” He looked down as the pendant started moving and rattling in the palm of his hand, but now one of his fingers could be seen slightly manipulating the chain. “Just a cheap parlor trick to make a point and introduce some misdirection,” he added, before opening the pendant and letting a yellow jelly bean fall out.

He picked up the jelly bean, examined it for a moment, and then popped it into his mouth.

“You're a strange one sometimes, Joe Hicks,” Doris said, rolling her eyes.

“I've got my reasons for everything I do,” he murmured, before looking out the window and spotting Carolyn making her way into the station. As he watched her, his eyes narrowed slightly. “I know a lot more about what's going on in this town than I ever let on,” he added. “A wise man never shows his whole hand. And sometimes, when you haven't got exactly what you need, you need to blag a little.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Today...

Once upon a time, a young woman named Penelope – or Nellie, for short – found herself lost in the woods. It doesn't matter how she ended up in such a terrible predicament and we don't need to bother ourselves with everything that went on before; all that matters is that on one cold, rainy day she stopped by the side of the road and looked around, hoping to find somewhere she could hide from the big bad wolf.

“Help me!” she shouted – some might say screamed. “Oh, won't somebody come and save me?”

Those aren't the exact words she used, but they're close enough. Her actual words were much more forceful, and by this point she was damn near turning the air blue as she begged for help and railed against the terrible decisions that had left her in such a tight spot. She was shivering now, with her red dress clinging to her icy skin, but she knew she couldn't afford to stop for long. After looking around again, she set off between the trees, desperate to reach the local town and find safety.

She knew that somewhere out there, the wolf was getting closer, and that it meant to rip her body apart with its bare claws.

***

“Somebody help me,” she stammered, shivering now as she crawled on all fours through the forest. “Please...”

Reaching out, she grabbed a tree root and used it to haul herself forward. She felt so weak now, yet sheer adrenaline was helping her to somehow keep going. Constantly looking over her shoulder, watching the gloom for any sign that the wolf – in either his original form or mocked up as a man – might have arrived. She felt a rush of relief as she realized that there was no sign of him, yet she knew with absolute certainty that he was still close, and that he most certainly wouldn't have simply given up.

Scrambling to the top of a small ridge, she looked out across the valley and to her surprise she realized that she could finally see a town. Sobolton looked so dark and gloomy, with no electric lights piercing the rainy afternoon, yet in that moment Penelope had never before seen anything filled with so much hope. She knew that there would be people down there, people who could help her and who might even be able to explain all the madness; all she had to do, she told herself, was somehow get to them.

She began to crawl down the steep muddy slope, but she quickly lost her hold on the ground. Instead she began to fall, tumbling through the forest and letting out a series of sharp, staccato cries every time she hit a rock or a thicket or a tree.

***

Meanwhile, also once upon a time, a wolf in man's clothing slowly picked up the battered and limp body of a much smaller wolf. Turning the specimen around, Saint Thomas peered at his niece and wondered whether it might be easier to just finish her off now.

“Kid, you did good,” he murmured. “Better than I ever would have expected. Hell, your parents might not be very inspiring, but you're lucky. You're stronger than both of them combined.”

He paused, imagining himself breaking her neck and then finishing her off, perhaps burning her body. That would be neat and convenient, and certainly a good way to rid himself of the problem once and for all. He knew that with Eloise gone, there would be nobody left who could possibly interfere with his claim to rule the entire pack. The prospect was enticing and filled him with a sense of long-delayed glee, yet as he continued to study the crumpled unconscious cub before him, he felt a flickering sense of a better idea stretching and yawning in the back of his mind.

“You don't take after your father so very much,” he opined, “and the less said of your mother's influence, the better. But if I'm not very much mistaken, you're a tough little thing and you've got a spark of real fire about you, almost like...”

Leaning closer, he gave her a brief sniff.

“You take after your uncle,” he added finally. “You lucky, lucky little monkey. There's as much of me in you, as there is of your father. Eloise, my dear, you seem to have won life's genetic lottery.”

He still wanted to kill her, but now he felt that he couldn't quite bring himself to extinguish such a promising life. Not without giving her one final chance, at least. Although his new idea went against everything he'd been planning up to that point, he felt almost enchanted by the idea that he might be able to raise Eloise as his own adopted child, that he could shape and mold her in his own image, that one day she might be not a rival to his power but an essential ally. Part of him worried that he might be making a terrible mistake, yet he realized now that he really couldn't help himself.

“Help me!” Penelope screamed somewhere far off in the forest.

“Oh, right,” Saint Thomas said, raising both eyebrows. “I almost forgot about her. Hang tight, Eloise. I just need to think up a suitable ending for her story, and then I'll be right back.”

***

Cut and bleeding all over, Penelope finally managed to haul herself up from the spot where she'd landed. Having tumbled down the slope, she'd finally come to a rest by the side of another stretch of road, but this time she could see what appeared to be a gas station not too far off, with a high wall running along the road's other side.

“Help me,” she groaned, barely able to get those words out. “Is anyone there?”

Reaching out with a frail, trembling hand, she desperately hoped that by some miracle she might be able to attract a little attention. Quickly realizing that this approach was never going to work, she instead began to drag herself along the road, using every last scrap of strength in a desperate attempt to reach safety. The gas station looked dull and abandoned, but she still clung to the hope that there might be someone around. Every bone in her body was aching and she was struggling desperately to remain conscious, but she was inching closer and closer to the gas station and -

Suddenly a solitary rock landed just a few feet ahead of her.

She froze, and a moment later a second rock hit the ground, then a third.

Feeling a sudden rush of panic, she heard slow, calm footsteps approaching. Finally a man stepped around and stopped in front of her, and she looked up to see the man with the eye patch staring back down at her.

“I know what you're thinking,” he said. “You're thinking... if I'm still naked because I can't carry clothes with me when I'm in my wolf form, then... where did I get the eye patch from?”

He took another rock and dropped it in front of her face.

“You're gonna have to keep wondering about that one, I'm afraid,” he added with a smile. “You don't expect me to give out all my secrets, do you?”

He winked.

“What do you want from me?” she gasped.

“I want you to star in my nursery rhyme,” he replied, as if that was the most obvious possible answer. “Haven't you been listening? It's called Red-Eyed Nellie and it's a cautionary tale about a strong, independent woman who gets caught up in something that's a little too far out of her comfort zone. Now, I have to admit, part of my intention in writing this tale is a desire to critique nursery rhymes of old, which means reusing certain elements in a way that parodies and satirizes the conventions of human literature. Are you still following?”

“What do you want from me?” she snarled again.

“I think the ending has to be some kind of Grand Guignol thing. Do you know what that means? If you don't, look it up. The point is, it all has to build to something horrible. I've read all sorts of human stories where the big bad wolf gets its comeuppance, and I think it's time to turn things around so that the human gets to die in excruciating pain for once.”

He dropped another rock in front of her.

“I think you're starting to catch my drift,” he added. “Actually, there's one particular fate that I think would be particularly appropriate here. I was wondering whether it might be too mean, but I think I need to put such concerns aside and focus on the needs of the story. Sometimes you've just gotta kill your darlings.”

Taking another rock, he held it up for a moment before crouching down. He stared into her eyes, and then he gently threw the rock against her nose.

“We're reaching the end of Red-Eyed Nellie,” he told her. “I was thinking of calling it The Wolf's Revenge, but I'm gonna stick with Red-Eyed Nellie because... well, the revenge part should be pretty obvious even to the most idiotic observer.”

Reaching out, he put a hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. After a moment, he began to slowly force her mouth open.

“Do you know what I hate the most?” he asked. “Twists, at least when they're just for the sake of a shock. Sometimes, you want people to know what's coming. You want to build up a sense of utter, horrifying dread.” He picked up one of the rocks and pushed it into her mouth, and then he forced her mouth shut and held tight while she struggled. “This story's gonna end for you, but it's gonna end the same way it usually ends for the wolf. I think you might have gotten a kick out of that idea, back before you knew it was gonna hurt so much. Back in the day.” He leaned closer and grinned as he finally forced her to swallow the rock. “You know what they call an ending like this, don't you? At least for someone like me.”

He pulled her mouth open and then crunched it shut again, shattering several of her teeth against the rock and bringing blood bursting from between her lips as tears streamed down her face.

“Happy,” he sneered, “ever... after.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sobolton, USA – 2011...

Raising his rifle very slowly, Jason Leonard took a moment to aim at the deer that had stopped over past the line of trees. His hands were shaking slightly, but Jason wasn't going to let that stop him; he focused a little more, determined to prove everyone wrong by bagging himself some meat, and then he carefully began to squeeze the trigger.

And then, as he fired, something rustled in the forest nearby and the deer took off.

“Damn it!” Jason hissed, as his shot missed by mere inches. “What the hell kind of ridiculousness is going on here today?”

Glancing to his right, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what had caused the disturbance. Listening carefully, he couldn't pick out even the slightest hint of anything moving in the vicinity, but slowly he began to aim his rifle in that direction.

“I don't care what you are,” he murmured, “but you're gonna learn to keep out of my way. Let's be seeing the whites of your eyes, then. All I need is one second, and then you'll be down on the ground and regretting the moment you ever came within a hundred feet of me.”

He waited, convinced that at any moment he was going to spot some telltale sign of activity; his finger was resting on the trigger, itching to squeeze a little tighter, but so far the only sound came from the faint rustle of a breeze blowing through the forest.

“I know you're out here,” he whispered. “You won't get the better of me.”

Still waiting, he finally heard the faintest shuffling sound. He aimed his rifle a little to the right, using his years of experience to pinpoint the exact location, and finally he allowed himself a brief smile before pulling the trigger, firing into the forest and then rushing forward to catch sight of his target.

***

“Are you torturing that poor man again?”

Having not noticed anyone coming up behind her, Clanath half turned just as Turncoat made his way over. She was a little shocked that he'd managed to sneak up on her so easily, but a moment later she heard Jason Leonard yelling and cussing once again in the forest.

“What did he ever do to you?” Turncoat continued. “You seem to delight in driving him crazier and crazier.”

“Let's just say that it's revenge on someone else's behalf,” she replied. “I have to amuse myself somehow.”

She listened for a moment longer as Jason continued to crash through the forest, heading in entirely the wrong direction.

“I found them,” Turncoat said suddenly, touching the side of her arm. “The latest ones, I mean. I didn't even realize that you were...”

His voice trailed off.

“It's no big deal,” she replied, focusing now on the task of keeping tears out of her eyes. “You don't have to worry about me.”

“They were my cubs too. At least, they would have been if they'd...”

Again, he couldn't quite complete the sentence.

“I should stop doing this to you, really,” she said after a moment. “It's not fair the way I track you down every few years and get close to you again, and then we mate and I go away, and nearly every damn time I give birth to... cold, dead little things. Even when one miraculously survives, it's never for more than a few hours. I just need to accept that I'm not going to be able to leave any children of my own behind.”

“Clanath -”

“It's my own fault,” she added, as she heard Jason firing pointlessly in the distance. “I know it's a curse. I know it's retribution for my actions a very long time ago. I have lived far too long and -”

“Don't say that.”

“But it's true,” she said, turning to him. “It's very true. I've clung to life, long after I gave up on the pack. I'm hundreds of years old, I must be at least a century older than any other wolf, and I'm starting to realize that there comes a point at which I have to accept the inevitable.”

“Clanath -”

“I must be -”

“I love you,” he said firmly, interrupting her. “I'd do anything for you. Well, I'd never kidnap you and hold you prisoner in a cabin in the middle of the forest. I'll leave that for Michael. But you know what I mean. I just want to be with you forever, and I don't even need cubs.”

“You're from a proud family,” she told him. “You should choose a better mate.”

“I've changed into my human form to come and find you today,” he reminded her. “You know how much I hate this form, but I did it anyway because I want to finally persuade you to come back with me. You've spent so long lurking in the town and it's not good for you.” Reaching down, he took hold of her hands. “I know my family is... complicated... but I keep hoping that you'll see past that. Father is only really interested in Michael, because he's the heir to everything. Saint Thomas and I are just spares, and I'm the sparest of all.”

He watched her face closely, waiting for a response.

“We can even go away from here,” he added.

“We can't leave Sobolton.”

“Of course we can!”

“Your father would never allow it.”

“He would if I explained it all to him. And even if he denied us permission, I don't care. We could go anyway. Once we're away from the pack, Father's influence is completely irrelevant.”

“Do you want us to elope like young lovers?” she replied with a brief, sad smile. “Seriously? Is that your latest big idea?”

“Does it really sound so crazy? Michael's lost in his insane obsession with that Lisa woman. Saint Thomas is so busy with his machinations that I doubt he's ever given mating much thought. Why can't I be the one out of the three of us who actually gets it right? Why can't I just be with the woman I love?”

“I -”

“Humans obsess over age and suitability,” he continued. “We don't, or at least that's what I've always been told. I'm willing to leave the pack forever if that's what it takes to be with you. What's the alternative? How much longer can we stay here, making the same mistakes over and over again?” He paused, afraid to ask the next question but fully aware that he had no choice. “How many have there been now?” he added. “How many little corpses have you brought out here into the forest?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but after a moment she looked past him and watched the spaces between the trees.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

“Hear what?” he asked.

“That rattling sound,” she continued. “It used to only come at night, that's how I was able to avoid it, but a few times lately I've begun to hear it during the day as well. I think it's stronger at night, but it's calling out to me. I only saw it once before, and I've never been the same since. I know what it is, and I also know that if I ever see it again, I'll be broken forever.”

“I don't hear any rattling sound,” he told her, as Jason yelled at something in the distance. “I hear that idiot, but there's nothing else out here.”

“That's where you're wrong,” she said as a solitary tear ran down her cheek. “It's coming for me. It's been coming for so long. That's the real reason I've been clinging to life. I know that when I die, it has to be after I've seen that thing one last time. I'm just trying to delay that moment for as long as possible.”

“It doesn't have to be like this,” he said firmly. “Let me help you.”

“I wish I could,” she murmured as the rattling sound faded away, replaced by the sound of trees rustling all around them. “The truth, though, is that some lives are set very early on, and they can only end one way. I've seen glimpses of my own death. Of my final moments. I've seen the face of the man who's going to shoot me.”

“Is it him?” he asked, as Jason continued to shout and bluster further off in the forest. “If it's him, I'll kill him right now so that -”

“It's not him,” she said darkly. “The man's who going to kill me is still not here yet, but he'll be on his way soon. He has honest eyes and a good soul, and he wears a uniform. But before he gets to me, I know I have to face my worst fear one last time. That's the secret I've been aware of for so long. I know that by the time I die, I shall be completely out of my mind.”

She turned to him and blinked, and in that moment he vanished from sight. Startled, she realized that she must have imagined the entire conversation.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Today...

The first thing Eloise noticed, as she began to stir from a very deep and heavy sleep, was the sound of flames crackling nearby. She blinked a couple of times, puzzled as she tried to remember exactly what had happened, and then – suddenly recalling the moment her uncle had sunk his teeth into her flank – she sat up with a gasp.

“Easy there,” Saint Thomas said, watching her from nearby. “There's no need to panic. You're completely safe. I'm sorry about the little sackcloth dress I had to give you when you changed, there really wasn't anything else hanging around that would've fitted you. But you're kinda rocking the Victorian orphan look.”

Getting to her feet, she immediately felt faint. She reached out to steady herself, only for Saint Thomas to hurry over and grab her by the arm. He slowly helped her to sit back down as the fire continued to burn nearby.

“You might have noticed that we're both back in our human forms,” he told her. “I thought it'd be easier for us to talk this way. I get the feeling that your parents never much bothered to teach you the ways of our species. Some of the subtleties of wolf communication can be tricky to pick up, especially if you haven't been learning them from an early age. It's wrong that you never got the chance to experience that side of your personality before.”

She reached up, trying to adjust the scratchy dress but quickly finding that there was no way to make it comfortable.

“I don't know if you remember or not,” her uncle added, “but I came to visit the cabin once or twice after you were born, although you were still very young. I won't blame you if none of that ever stuck in your memory.”

Staring back at him, she was already trying to work out whether she could run away. After a moment, however, she began to look around again.

“If you're wondering about that F.B.I. lady,” Saint Thomas continued, “I'm afraid she had to step away. She's otherwise engaged right now.”

She turned to him again.

“You look so terrified,” he added. “That's not how I want you to feel at all, Eloise. I'm sorry that our pack abandoned you to be raised in such... unfortunate circumstances, but I guess we thought we were doing the right thing. Now, however, I want to put it all right. I want to show you that you have a place here with us. With your real pack, I mean. I know that might seem frightening right now, but you have to trust me when I tell you that this is where you belong. With us.”

He paused, still analyzing her reaction.

“With me.”

“I want Mommy,” she replied.

“I want Mommy!” he snapped, mimicking her for a moment. “Sorry, that was mean of me, but you need to realize that you're becoming an adult soon, Eloise. You have to stand on your own two feet. Now, let me tell you, you put up one hell of a fight against me out there in that forest. Don't get me wrong, the outcome was never in doubt, but I was still extremely impressed by your ability to surprise me with some nifty moves. You actually got a few good bites in.”

“I don't want to be here.”

“My understanding is that you came out here alone into the forest because you wanted to strike a deal. Is that correct?”

He waited for her to reply, but he could already tell that he was getting closer and closer to the truth.

“You want me to agree to leave Sobolton alone,” he purred, “and in exchange, you'll stay here with the pack. That's just about the gist of your idea, isn't it?”

“I don't want anyone else to get hurt,” she murmured.

“And then, once you were out here,” he continued, “you got scared. That's totally understandable, but I'm here to get your little plan back on the right track. You see, Eloise, I am open to striking a deal with you. In fact, I get the feeling that you and I are in many ways very similar. Much more so than I ever anticipated.” He paused again, fully aware that he needed to tread carefully. “You can be powerful, Eloise,” he added finally. “If you're loyal to me, you can be more powerful than you've ever even imagined.”

“I don't want to be powerful,” she told him.

“Why not?”

“I don't know,” she admitted, “but I just... I want to go home.”

“You are home!” he hissed, stepping toward her and leaning closer, momentarily losing his sense of calm. “Can't you feel that in your heart! You're home for the first time ever! Your parents tried to hide you away, and that bitch Clanath tried to pull the same stunt by depositing you in the ice, but they couldn't succeed. Do you know why that is, Eloise? It's because this homecoming has always been your destiny, and only a fool fights against something like that.”

“I'm not like you,” she whimpered.

“You are,” he said firmly. “And I'm going to prove it to you.”

***

A short while later, having made their way through a part of the forest many miles from the edge of town, Saint Thomas and Eloise stopped on a rocky outcrop overlooking another section of the valley.

“What do you see?” he asked, turning to her.

“Trees,” she said cautiously, as if she was afraid of giving the wrong answer.

“A bit literal, but I'll allow it. What else, though? If you use your heart, what do you really see?”

She thought for a moment.

“Land,” she said finally. “Lots of land. A huge forest. Lots of space.”

“Freedom,” he said firmly. “The word you're looking for, and which you're perhaps not very accustomed to using, is freedom.”

“I don't understand.”

“Of course you don't,” he said wryly. “The point is, this part of the forest is the last of our territory. We once had so much more, but the humans took it away from us piece by piece and now we're only left with this. Sure, it looks pretty huge, but it's so much less than we really deserve. My dream is to get it back. All of it. Every square inch, including the lake and the part of the valley where they built their pathetic little town. I can do it, too. They've been protected for so many centuries by some stupid piece of tat in a silver pendant, but now I have it on good authority that the pendant has been lost.”

He looked around for a moment longer, savoring the view and hoping that Eloise might also be inspired by his vision for the pack's future.

“So many have tried and failed to restore us to glory,” he added. “I've always known that I'm destined to be the one who succeeds. My opponents – including my own brother, who happened to also be your father – all conveniently removed themselves from my path. I once thought that you were going to be one of those opponents, Eloise, but now I'm starting to realize that for once I was wrong. You're not my opponent at all. You're actually potentially my greatest ally.”

“I don't know what that means,” she said cautiously.

“It means that all of this and more can be ours,” he explained. “I'll rule, naturally, but you'll be my loyal lieutenant. You'll have so much power, Eloise, and I'll be the only one you ever have to answer to. You'll grow up strong and free and brave, and without the doubts that I'm sure have been plaguing you. And all I ask for in return is your unending loyalty, and the knowledge that when I really need you by my side, you'll be there. Can I have that, Eloise? Are you willing to give me your loyalty in exchange for everything I just promised you?”

“What... what happens if I don't want to?” she asked.

“Are you seriously considering turning me down?”

“I just want to go home and live a normal life,” she told him.

“What about the town? Don't you want to save it, and save all the people who live there as well?”

“Yes, but -”

“Then this is your chance,” he continued. “Sobolton is a wretched place and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to destroy it, and to kill every last person living there. But if you're willing to pledge your loyalty to me, then I can see my way to tolerating the town's existence, at least for now. They won't have so many freedoms, and they'll have to remember every single day that they're merely allowed to live on our land, but they'll be given a fair chance to play nice. If they blow that chance...”

He hesitated, wondering just how much he could afford to tell her.

“I've shown you our land,” he added, “but I think the time has come to let you experience it for yourself. Will you let me take you on a guided tour, Eloise? I'd really like to show you exactly what we're going to be fighting for.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sobolton, USA – 2016...

“I know you're out here,” Clanath whispered, standing in the forest and listening to the sound of trees rustling nearby. “I know you want to hurt me for what happened to you. I can't even say that you're wrong. I'm just begging you... please, let me see you in daylight rather than...”

For a moment, she couldn't help but think back to that night many years earlier when she'd first seen the thing rushing at her through the night air. She'd been horrified, almost unable to believe the truth, but at the very last second she'd managed to run; in truth, she hadn't really stopped running ever since and she'd spent the rest of her existence trapped somehow between two worlds.

Now, finally, she was resorting to begging for peace.

“I never meant to hurt any of you,” she continued. “I was trying so hard to save you, but I just couldn't get it right. I've been cursed for so long, and I should never have tried to bring you into the world in the first place. It's just...”

Before she had a chance to finish, she realized that she could hear a sound echoing in the back of her mind. She'd expected to perhaps hear the jangling bones, but instead she was just about able to make out the cry of a newborn human child. She told herself that such a thing was impossible, that her own cubs had been born as wolves, yet she was wondering now whether her paranoid mind was making her imagine stranger and stranger things.

Yet slowly, over the next few seconds, she began to realize that something even more unusual was happening. She turned and looked over her shoulder, and she listened as the sound of the baby's cries drifted toward her from somewhere a little way off.

“That's not possible,” she whispered under her breath. “I don't...”

***

Has she been in her wolf form, Clanath would have found the source of the crying sound in mere minutes. Instead, choosing to stay in her human body, she had to walk for a couple of hours, using her distinctly less specific human ears as she tried to follow the sound through the forest. Finally, however, she realized that she was getting closer and closer to one particular cabin, and she stopped at the edge of a clearing and immediately spotted Lisa sitting on the steps outside the cabin's front door.

“A child?” she whispered, venturing closer but keen to avoid being seen.

Crouching down, she watched as Lisa continued to feed the baby in her arms.

“How are you two doing out here?” Michael asked, stepping out to join them.

Clanath ducked down a little lower still.

“You seem like a natural,” Michael said, as the baby's cries began to peter out. “I've got to admit, she reacts a lot better to you than to me. When I'm holding her, she cries so much, but then I give her to you and...”

After making his way down the steps, he stopped and turned to her.

“How much longer are you going to be like this?” he asked. “I've apologized so many times. I helped you through the birth, though, didn't I? I know you think we can't raise her like this, out here in the middle of nowhere and without any outside interference, but I swear that it's possible. We just need to work as a family.”

As she continued to watch them, Clanath realized that Lisa was very deliberately ignoring Michael. And although she was by no means an expert on their relationship, she was still puzzled by the idea that they had seemingly conceived a child together.

“You know she's going to be very powerful one day, don't you?” Michael added. “I know there are some in the pack who believe that the ruler must be male, but things are going to change. It doesn't even matter whether or not I take my place at the head of the pack. You know how it works, they'll still consider me to be their leader even if I'm hiding away. And then one day, when I'm gone, Eloise will take my place, and she might very well be more interested in her new position.”

“Eloise?” Clanath whispered, still trying to make sense of the situation she'd uncovered.

“Can't you at least talk to me?” Michael asked finally, clearly starting to lose his temper. “Lisa, you're being so childish, it's almost as if you -”

“What do you want me to say?” she snapped suddenly. “That suddenly everything's okay between us?”

“I -”

“And what happens if I try to leave?” she added, getting to her feet. “What if I try to take her to town, so that she can live a normal life?”

“Lisa...”

“Congratulations, Michael,” she sneered bitterly. “You had one prisoner, and now you've got two. You must be so proud of yourself.”

“She's beautiful and we made her together,” he replied, reaching out toward the baby. “If -”

“Don't touch her!” Lisa said, turning away from him so that he couldn't get too close to the child in her arms. “Don't you understand that you'll only bring darkness and pain and horror into her life? If you really cared about her, you'd let me take her out of here right now!”

“You don't mean any of that.”

“What are you going to do, Michael? Are you going to lock me down in that little space under the floor again? Is that what'll happen if I dare to tell you the truth?”

“You know I don't like putting you there,” he replied wearily. “It was just a couple of times, when I'd run out of other ideas.”

“And what about Eloise? Will she have to be down there with me?”

“Never.”

“I don't believe you,” she continued, gently rocking the girl in her arms. “Why would I? I've lost track of how long I've spent here as your prisoner, but it must be at least a decade. You once told me that you were going to let me free eventually, but that's not true, is it? You're going to keep us all here forever, trapped in your little fantasy bubble world.”

“That's not fair,” he told her.

“Then let us go.”

“You know I can't do that!” he snapped. “They're out there, Lisa, and they'd hunt you down if you took more than ten steps away from this cabin. I have to protect you, now more than ever. If -”

Suddenly he turned and looked across the clearing, as if he'd suddenly realized that they were being watched. Clanath ducked down slightly, but she quickly told herself that in his human form Michael would struggle to notice her. She'd heard rumors about him, and claims that he'd avoided his wolf form for so long that his body was starting to break down; now she'd seen the evidence for herself, but she couldn't help thinking that it wasn't just his body that was suffering. His mind seemed to be damaged too, as if spending too long as a human had warped and twisted his soul. The Michael she'd met many years earlier, the kind and sweet boy destined to rule the wolves one day, would never have allowed his love for anyone to warp and become something so cruel.

“What are you looking at?” Lisa asked wearily.

“Nothing,” he replied, turning to her. “Don't try to escape again, Lisa. Especially not with Eloise. I didn't like how I had to punish you last time, and I'd have to be stricter now. You need to trust me when I promise you'll be safe here. You won't want for anything, you'll both be looked after perfectly and most importantly you'll be safe.”

Reaching out, he tried to touch the side of her face, but she immediately pulled away.

“Eventually you'll realize that I'm right,” he continued, before turning and walking away across the clearing. “I won't be long. I just need to go and pick up a few things. Wait here and don't try anything stupid.”

Clanath watched as he left, and then she observed Lisa, who seemed to have accepted her fate. Although she wondered why the poor woman wasn't immediately trying to run, she quickly understood that Lisa seemed to have been completely broken. Part of her wanted to intervene, to step forward and offer some help, but deep down she knew that she couldn't risk getting involved in Michael's affairs. After all, he was technically supposed to be the ruler of the wolves, even if he'd steadfastly refused to step into that role; instead he'd left a power vacuum, one that his brother Saint Thomas was desperately trying to fill. She had no idea how the brothers were going to work things out, but she knew that eventually there would be violence.

And she sensed somehow – deep down, in her bones – that she wouldn't live long enough to see that day.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Today...

She ran faster than she'd ever run before, faster than she'd ever thought possible, racing at breakneck speed through the forest and somehow – by instinct, she could only assume – threading her way between the trees.

Propelled by four powerful legs, she felt as if somehow she was only getting stronger and stronger with each stride. The ground thundered beneath her, and somehow she could sense other forest creatures rushing to get out of her way. For the first time in her life she felt as if everyone else respected her, as if she was a dominant force, and she liked the idea that as a wolf she could force all other life into submission. In that moment, she knew without a shadow of doubt that nothing else in the entire forest could possibly challenge the wolves.

Her uncle ran nearby, mostly keeping his distance but occasionally running closer for a few seconds. The ground shook whenever he approached, and she felt an instinctive sense of awe as she began to understand his strength. Somehow she could sense the sinews of his body moving, and the unbridled force of his muscles; although she was running as fast as she could manage, she knew that he was holding back in order to keep pace with her, and she wondered just how far and how fast he could run if he truly used every inch of power in his body.

She wanted to be like him one day.

And as the forest opened up ahead of her, she realized that a thousand scents were bursting into her nose and exploding in her senses. Although she'd always loved the smell of the forest while in her human form, now she understood that the singular smell she'd noticed before was in fact a riotous mix of so many other impressions. She could smell the trees and the grass, and the trails left by other creatures, and somehow even things that were long gone. The biggest surprise was that these senses existed in different moments, as if she could separate them all out and even understand how long ago they'd been laid down. She could tell how long a pile of vegetation had been left rotting, or precisely how many days earlier a deer had passed through this stretch of the forest. The whole world was opening itself up in a riotous symphony of new information, and she was starting to wonder how she could ever have existed as a dull human with dull senses. As a human, she'd seen barely the tiniest glimpse of the world's true wonder.

Finally she came to a halt on another rocky outcrop. Panting, she looked out across the forest and saw that there was still so much more of the world to explore. In that moment she felt as if her power was infinite, as if nothing could possibly hold her back, and she wondered whether she might be able to run for the rest of time and whether in the process she might even be able to make the world turn a little faster. Her legs were aching, but not enough to put her off, and she was already starting to pick out a route that she hoped would awaken her senses even more.

A moment later she heard a shuffling sound nearby, and she turned to see that Saint Thomas had arrived. He glanced at her before stepping past and looking out across the forest. Wanting his attention, she let out a low murmuring growl, but he ignored her and instead continued to gaze at their land. So many scents were blowing across the world, and she wanted to explore them all; after a few seconds she stepped closer to her uncle and nudged his side, and then – when he continued to ignore her – she did the same thing again, accompanied by a playful yelp, hoping -

Suddenly he turned and snarled at her, forcing her to instinctively pull back. For a fraction of a second she was filled with fear and shame, but those sensations quickly evaporated and were replaced by an entirely different sensation.

Respect.

She understood now that her uncle was bigger and stronger than her, but this realization didn't make her feel weak or inferior. Instead she gained a strange kind of comfort from the knowledge, as if his brief admonishment had merely emphasized her place in the natural hierarchy. She approached him again, but more carefully this time, and she felt a rush of pride as he allowed her to stand almost equally alongside him. She instinctively knew now that she shouldn't step ahead of him, that to do so would imply a challenge, so instead she took her place by his side and followed his gaze. Together they looked out across a world that felt ready to be explored.

She also noticed other scents now, dirtier and less welcome impressions, and finally she realized that a road ran through the forest. She could see a large truck running along that road, and even from a great distance she was able to pick up the stench of its engine and the odors of the man in the driver's seat. Somehow the scents emanating from the truck felt so very wrong, and she was relieved a moment later when the vehicle continued on its way and disappeared from the edge of her senses. In that moment, however, she was starting to understand how it truly felt to have humans intruding upon the world of the wolves.

Letting out a low snarl, as if to indicate that he too felt the intrusion, Saint Thomas turned and began to make his way down a rough slope. She diligently followed, feeling immense pride in the fact that she and she alone had been permitted to accompany him. At the start she'd been scared, but now she could barely even remember how fear felt. Soon they set off running again, charging through another patch of the forest, and she briefly felt as if all her worries and doubts had been replaced by the sheer joy of strength and power.

And as she ran and ran, she didn't once think of Sobolton, or of Doctor Law, or of the human world she was leaving behind. She didn't even think of her mother.

***

Eventually they reached a part of the forest that was beyond the boundary of their territory. She wasn't quite sure how she knew that, except that the scent of her pack had now markedly retreated, replaced by the brutality and ugliness of the human world.

As her uncle continued to lead the way, slowing to walking pace, she wondered why they had come out to this spot. Glancing around, she felt uncertain again, and she already longed for the sensation of being out in the forest, of being in the pack's world. The trees were becoming few and far between, and eventually Saint Thomas stopped at the top of a shallow muddy slope that led down into some kind of human yard.

Two men were talking loudly as they loaded items onto the back of a truck.

Hearing a low growling sound, she turned to see that her uncle was baring his teeth, and that thick saliva was glistening on his fangs. Somehow everything about Saint Thomas seemed to have changed now; from the way he was standing to the scent of his being, he'd transformed his entire body into something much stronger and more powerful, as if he was preparing to launch an attack. Now more than ever, she was aware of his sheer power, and she felt sure that nothing could hold him back. She turned and looked at the two human men, and now they looked so weak and pathetic, as if they didn't even realize that they were in such immense danger.

And then, with no warning, one of the men turned and looked directly at her.

“Wolves!” he yelled, pointing before turning and racing back into the barn.

The other man followed, but a few seconds later they returned with rifles. After struggling for a moment to reload, they aimed and fired, hitting the trees nearby.

Although she wanted to run, she knew she had to stand her ground alongside her uncle. She wondered whether he was going to charge at the men, or whether he merely intended to watch them, but after a few seconds the two humans fired their weapons again, hitting the ground a little closer this time.

Now the men were having to reload, and Saint Thomas took his chance. Hurrying down the slope, he began to growl as he made his way toward the pair. Realizing that she couldn't risk being left behind, she followed while keeping several paces back. The men were shouting at one another frantically, and one of them had already dropped his ammunition. Finally, as Saint Thomas got closer, both men turned and ran, almost stumbling and falling as they dropped their rifles and hurried away into the barn.

As her uncle stopped just a few paces ahead, she couldn't help but feel impressed by the way he'd scared the men off. She wondered whether he was going to chase them and rip them to pieces, but after a few more seconds he simply turned and began to make his way back to the forest.

For a moment she stayed behind, enjoying the scent of fear that was emanating from somewhere in the barn. Finally realizing that she risked being forgotten, she turned and hurried after her uncle, and within a few minutes they were back on their own territory. She felt an immense flood of relief, but also a sense of pride. Those two men had run away like a pair of utter cowards, all because they'd been terrified by her uncle's ferocity. She saw him in a new light now, and she wanted nothing more than to become like him in every possible way.

This... this world made sense to her.

They began to run again, bounding through the forest even faster than before, and she didn't even notice that she'd almost forgotten her own name.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sobolton, USA – 2020...

“Eloise! Eloise, where are you?”

Stepping out from the front of the cabin, Lisa stopped as soon as she saw her daughter sitting happily on the far side of the clearing, playing with some sticks.

“Eloise, I'm going to be inside preparing food for this evening,” she continued. “Your father should be back soon, so just... don't go out of my sight, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy,” Eloise said with a giggle.

Once Lisa had headed back inside, the girl played with the sticks for a moment longer. Hearing a rustling sound, however, she turned and saw a woman watching her from a spot just behind two trees.

“Who are you?” Eloise asked.

“I'm no-one,” Clanath replied, horrified that she'd allowed herself to be seen at all. “I... I'm sorry,” she added, turning to walk away. “I shouldn't be here.”

“You're pretty.”

Stopping, Clanath told herself to keep going, but slowly she looked back at the child.

“I've seen you before,” Eloise continued happily. “You look at us.”

“Not often,” Clanath said with tears in her eyes. “I just... come past occasionally, to check on you – that's all. On you and your mother, actually. I don't even know why, I think I just... I want to know that you're both alright. As alright as you can be when you're both prisoners, at least.”

“You're funny,” Eloise replied. “I like you.”

“You're four years old,” Clanath pointed out. “Something like that, anyway. You won't even remember me when you're older.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'll be gone, and that's just the way things work.” She looked toward the horizon. “It's going to be dark soon. I need to be gone by then.”

“Can't you stay?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Never.”

“You seem sad.”

“I've got a lot to be -”

Stopping herself suddenly, she realized that there was no need to tell a child all about her past.

“I'm not sad,” she continued, forcing a smile even though tears were dancing in her eyes. “I think I just wanted to get to know a child for once, even from afar. I realize that was foolish now, so... I won't be back. And you'll forget me, just like I promised you would.”

“Why have you got blood on your leg?”

Looking down, Clanath saw that Eloise was right; some smeared blood was once again glistening just above one of her ankles.

“I tried again,” she whispered. “I should know by now that I shouldn't keep bringing them into this world. They only die. And then there are more of their little corpses to hide away, more ghosts to avoid. They all add up, you see. I've given them all names, but they all have only one name for me. I always told myself that it would be worth it if just one of them lived. Now... I realize that I could never have beaten the curse.”

She turned and began to walk away, picking her way through the forest and refusing to look back even as she heard Eloise calling after her. She knew that she'd made a mistake by ever visiting Lisa and the child, and she told herself that this time she was going to stay away from them forever.

***

A short while later, still walking through the forest, Clanath realized that she could hear a faint rustling sound coming from nearby. She told herself that there was no reason to be concerned, but as the sound continued she began to worry that Saint Thomas or one of the others from the pack had come to taunt her again.

And then, as she reached the bottom of the slope, she heard the telltale sound of rattling bones.

“No,” she said firmly, as a jolt of shock jerked through her body. “Not now. It's still daylight. You can't come out in the daylight. You can only come out at night or -”

She flinched as she heard the rattling sound again, and this time she could tell that more of them had arrived.

“No!” she said again, clenching both fists as she realized that the bones were behind her now. “It's not fair. You're only supposed to come at night, and I avoid you by...”

As her voice trailed off, she realized that in some ways she'd known that this day would eventually come. She'd noticed little hints here and there, although she'd mostly been able to convince herself that she had to be wrong. Closing her eyes as the first tears rolled down her cheeks, she knew that she could simply keep walking, that there was no reason why she had to turn and look. At the same time, she could still hear the rattling sound and she knew that they were never going to leave her alone.

“I've tried to do everything right,” she said firmly. “I know it was wrong of me to avoid you, but I could barely even bring myself to acknowledge that you exist. I stopped coming out into the forest at night, and I thought that would be enough. Deep down, though, I think I always knew that you'd keep searching for a way to get to me and -”

Before she could finish, she felt something small and soft touching her ankle from behind.

“That's not fair!” she snapped, stepping forward. “You're not supposed to be able to do that!”

The same thing happened again, and this time she took several more steps.

“There are rules,” she continued. “There are supposed to be, at least. There are things you can do and things you can't do, and that... that's one of the things you can't ever do!”

She waited, but this time she felt nothing.

“Is it because of her?” she asked. “Are you jealous that I've been going to watch Michael's daughter? I'm sorry if that hurt you, but I just wanted to keep an eye on her, to check that she was safe. I don't even know why I was thinking of getting involved, it's none of my business and...”

Her voice trailed off as she realized that she was simply making excuses. The bones were still jangling and rattling behind her, and she knew she was going to have to turn and face them eventually even if she was desperately trying to delay that moment for as long as possible.

“I know you must despise me,” she murmured. “I understand that. I'd be shocked if you didn't. And the truth is, I'm a coward. I think that's why I ended up cursed in the first place. The day I killed Henry Sobolton is the day I set myself on this path, and I've never been able to turn back. Your misery and your suffering... it's all because of me, and because of a choice I made hundreds of years ago. I think that's why I've lived so long, as well. Our lifespans are greater than those of humans, but still... I'm so old now, and so decrepit too.”

She clenched her teeth for a few seconds.

“But there's not long left,” she added. “Soon I'll be like you. I'll be nothing more than a ghost, and eventually my spirit will fade entirely from this world. I just hope that you won't be left behind, and that you won't be alone. At least while I'm here, you have someone to hate.”

She took a deep breath.

“And -”

Suddenly she felt something touching her ankle again.

“Stop it!” she screamed, spinning around. “Why can't you leave me alone and -”

In that moment, she realized that they were gone. Staring at a blank patch on the forest floor, she felt her heart racing as tears ran down her cheeks. She began to look around, unable to believe that they had simply left her alone, yet there was no sign of them at all and she heard no hint of bones rattling anywhere nearby. She wanted to scream at them, to ask why they were constantly tormenting her, but already the light was starting to fade and she knew deep down that they would come back at night – and that they would be so much more terrifying.

“I'll stay away,” she stammered, taking several steps back, not even sure if they could hear her now. “I'll try to never come back into the forest again. I don't know if that will be possible, but... I won't even go to see Eloise. I promise. I won't make you jealous again.”

She waited, giving them a chance to reply, and then she turned and began to hurry down toward the road. All she knew in that moment was that she'd come so terribly close to seeing the one thing that horrified her the most, and that for some reason she'd been given a reprieve.

“I'll never come back,” she told herself, speaking out loud in an attempt to force herself to be stronger. “I won't be weak again. I won't cause any pain or heartache to anyone else ever again.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Today...

“Do you know why we went out there today?” Saint Thomas asked, having reverted to his human form, wearing his usual dark human clothing again. “Did you understand the point of today's lesson?”

“We went to... explore,” Eloise replied cautiously, worried about giving the wrong answer. She was dressed once more in the scratchy little dress he'd found for her. “You wanted to show me what it's like to be a wolf.”

“And what was it like?”

“I felt...”

She thought for a moment as several torches burned nearby. Her uncle had taken her up onto a wooden walkway deep in the forest, still several miles from the town, and slowly most – but perhaps not all – of her human senses had returned.

“I felt strong,” she said finally. “Is that right?”

“It's a start,” he told her. “I wanted to show you how humans really react to us. They surround themselves with weapons, but at the end of the day – when it's just us against them, with no unfair advantages – they run from us. On a level playing field, we dominate them so easily. That's the mistake our ancestors made. They should have destroyed that Sobolton place as soon as it began to emerge, but instead they foolishly allowed it to develop until suddenly there was nothing they could do to stop it. Now the humans surround themselves with machines and guns and other items that sometimes – just sometimes – they can use against us.”

“Why do we have to fight at all?” she asked.

“Did you seriously just ask that question?” he snarled.

“I'm sorry,” she replied, feeling a rush of shame as she looked down at her feet.

“They always had one weapon in particular,” he explained. “For so long, they had one tiny little relic that they could use against us. It was unfair, but that was the situation. We knew we couldn't move against them, ever since the day the first Walker was destroyed. I doubt you know much about the history of the area, and even less of it from our perspective, but many years ago a wolf named Nathaniel went to observe the humans. They paid him back by burning him to death with an old piece of bone wrapped in a case of silver.”

“Why would they do that?” she whispered, barely daring to ask at all.

“They declared war on us that day,” he continued. “They didn't know it, but that was when it became clear to all of us that humans and wolves could never live alongside each other. We've struck back a few times over the years, cutting their power occasionally for a day or so, but to be honest I think they barely even considered us to be a threat. They were so unbelievably arrogant that they dismissed us. I've even heard some of them claim that we don't exist, that there are no wolves anywhere near Sobolton at all.”

“How could they not know that we're here?”

“They do know,” he sneered. “Deep down, at least. They just prefer to conveniently forget. They choose to believe that they've won a war they won't even acknowledge. They think we'll just scurry away and be grateful for whatever land they let us have, but they always do something else to antagonize us. One day they decided to build a railroad straight through our territory, and they even ran it through their own cemetery. What kind of species would be so disrespectful not only to their neighbors but also to their own dead? Then they ran power lines through our land. Do you know what it's like for us to go anywhere near those things? We can feel the electricity in the air from twenty feet away or more. It burns into our minds.”

“I don't think they realized they were hurting you so much,” she told him.

“Ignorance is no excuse,” he said firmly, stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Fortunately, they no longer have their unfair advantage. In their arrogance, they've actually gone and lost the relic that used to protect them. Can you believe that? They had it once, and they literally let it slip away. Now they're utterly defenseless, and I'm not going to let this opportunity slip away. Until today, I struggled to get the whole pack united behind me, but now something has changed.”

“What is it?” she asked cautiously. “What's different?”

“You,” he said with a smile. “You're the heir to your father, and he's gone now. So long as I have you by my side, no-one will dare to question me as I lead us into all-out war against the humans. And once they've been crushed, I'm going to make sure that no-one ever threatens our pack again.”

***

“Help me,” Penelope sobbed, still wearing the ragged red dress as she shivered on the forest floor, chained to a nearby tree. “Please, someone -”

Suddenly hearing a rustling sound, she turned and saw two figures approaching. Horrified by the sight of Saint Thomas, she pulled back against the tree, and a moment later she spotted Eloise following just a few paces further back.

“What do you want from me?” she shouted frantically, with blood caked around her mouth. She was struggling a little to speak, since several broken teeth remained embedded in her gums. “Why are you doing this?”

“Look at her,” Saint Thomas said, stopping to stare at Penelope as she continued to tremble violently. “Look at the state of her. She came into this forest thinking she was some big tough hotshot and now -”

“I never thought that!” Penelope stammered, and now her voice was shaking with fear. “I was just sent to check up on the town, that's all. I was doing a favor for someone!”

“Humans talk a lot,” Saint Thomas continued. “Did you ever notice that, Eloise? They talk and talk and talk, and the more they talk, the less they actually say. It's a funny conundrum, isn't it? As you yourself well know by now, in our wolf forms we communicate in so many other ways. We can say more with a simple glance than they can with a million of their foolish words.”

“Come over here,” Penelope continued, gesturing for Eloise to step forward. “You're not safe over there.”

“And still she thinks she can get out of this situation,” Saint Thomas murmured. “That she has some kind of duty and ability to protect you. I'd almost be impressed, if it wasn't for the fact that she and her kind have already caused so much damage.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Eloise asked cautiously. “You're not... you're not going to hurt her, are you?”

He turned and glared down at her with an expression of disgust.

“Please don't hurt her,” she continued. “I think she's a nice person and -”

Suddenly he slapped her hard, knocking her off her feet and sending her thumping down against the muddy ground.

“You've still got a lot to learn,” he said darkly, struggling to control his anger. “Apparently you didn't take today's lesson to heart enough, but there's still time for that.”

“I'm sorry,” she sobbed, touching the side of her face as she felt a stinging pain. “I didn't mean to be weak.”

“So you're hitting a child now, huh?” Penelope said through gritted teeth. “You're a real big guy, aren't you? You think you're so tough.”

“I don't recall asking you for your opinion,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I don't know exactly what I've gotten myself into,” she continued, sitting up a little as the chains rattled, “but I know a loser when I see one. I know weakness when I see it. And I know failure when it's staring me in the face. You might think you're strong right now, but people like you never win in the end.”

“Is that so?” he replied, before reaching down and picking up several rocks. “Good job I'm not people, then.”

“No!” she gasped, pulling back again. “Please, no more rocks!”

“I have to finish what I started,” he said with a grin, turning one of the rocks around carefully in his hand. “There's no point telling a story and not doing the ending.”

“I'm begging you!” she cried, holding a hand out in a desperate attempt to stop him. “Don't make me eat more rocks!”

“What are you doing to her?” Eloise whimpered, with tears streaming down her face.

“Child, hush,” Saint Thomas replied, stepping closer to Penelope until he was towering over her. “I think this story needs an ending that runs full circle. Something ironic, maybe. I'm a keen student of history, and I've always been struck by the fate of a Walker who lived in Sobolton during the nineteenth century. He was the fourth Walker, I believe, and by all accounts he died in excruciating pain when some dumb human buffoon used the relic to burn his belly out. He drove the damn thing straight through the poor bastard. That story has always hung heavy in my heart, and to be honest it's one of the reasons I particularly hate those damn sheriffs.”

Crouching down, he looked into Penelope's eyes.

“You don't even know the name Ignacious Huddlestone, I imagine,” he purred. “Huddlestone was just some random moniker he used so he could pass among the humans, but Ignacious was his real name. He lived and died before my time, but finally someone's going to get revenge for his horrible death.”

Reaching out, he tried to slip one of the rocks into her mouth. With tears streaming down her face, she turned away, but already he'd begun to take hold of her jaw as Eloise sobbed nearby.

“Relax, Agent Chandler,” Saint Thomas purred, forcing her mouth open and sliding the rock past her lips, crunching several more of her teeth in the process as blood ran down her chin. “At least you're gonna get a good final scene.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sobolton, USA – 2024...

“Damn this weather,” a voice called out in the darkness, as a door swung open hard. “There's a cold snap coming. I can feel it in the air.”

“You're probably right as usual,” another voice replied wearily. “I just hope it's not too bad. Hey, isn't tomorrow when the new sheriff starts? What's his name again?”

“Tinch? Trench? Something like that.”

“He's got a tough act to follow,” the second voice continued as the two men began to walk away along the street. “I know Joe's not perfect, but he kept the town in order. I'm still not sure it's a good idea to hire someone from out of town. How's some New York dude supposed to know how things work in Sobolton?”

As they made their way past a dumpster at the side of the library, they both failed to notice a human figure slumped on the ground. Or, at least, a human-like figure; still wearing the same ragged clothes she'd pulled out of a different dumpster behind the goodwill store a while back, Clanath was barely conscious as she murmured insensibly to herself. In truth, most people in Sobolton had learned over the years to simply ignore her, believing her to be just some crazy homeless woman who mostly kept herself to herself. And as the voices faded away into the distance, Clanath seemed set for another lonely night in the cold air.

“Eloise?”

Suddenly sitting up, she stared into darkness. Something about the little girl in the cabin had slammed into her thoughts with shattering speed, and a moment later she turned and looked toward the forest. A cold breeze was blowing across the parking lot, but after a few seconds she stumbled to her feet as she realized that something was desperately wrong. She hadn't been out to visit the cabin for a number of years now – she hadn't even ventured to the forest – but now she could sense extreme danger.

And fear.

“I'm coming,” she stammered, hurrying across the parking lot, already aware that she was going to have to change to her wolf form in order to search the darkness properly. “Eloise, it's okay. I'm coming to get you!”

***

Racing through the forest, unable to think of anything except the desperate need to find the child, Clanath tried to use all her senses in unison. She was picking up hints of Eloise's scent here and there, but she was struggling to pinpoint the exact location and occasionally she noticed traces of Michael too.

And then, reaching the top of a muddy slope, she looked down and spotted a crumpled figure far below.

She quickly made her way down, and sure enough she found that Eloise was unconscious. She nudged her, hoping to wake her up, but she was starting to realize that the girl must have fallen and knocked herself out. There was no sign of Michael, and from his scent Clanath could tell that he was hunting in his human form, so she figured that she had time to get the girl to safety.

A moment later, looking the other way, she heard a distant howling sound. The pack had been alerted, which meant that Saint Thomas and the other wolves would be on their way. Desperate to keep Eloise out of their hands, Clanath looked down at the girl for a moment and tried to think of some way to hide her. In that moment she felt the air starting to chill again, and she realized that there might be one option. Eloise was part wolf, in which case she should be able to survive things that would kill an ordinary human.

Reaching down, Clanath tried very tenderly to use her teeth as she picked Eloise up by the scruff of the neck. She knew that her fangs would cause some damage to the girl's skin, but she figured that was a price she was just going to have to pay. As an idea began to form in her ravaged mind, she turned to drag the child away, only to freeze as she once again heard the rattling bones moving closer.

And then she saw them.

Slowly, one by one, all her dead cubs from over the decades were crawling through the forest, trying to get to her. Some of them were nothing more that jangling bones now, while others still had some fur and meat on their bodies. She'd spotted them briefly before, of course, but this was the first time she'd come face to face with them properly. Already she could feel the sorrow bursting through her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself to the ground and let them take their revenge, and gradually her grip on Eloise began to weaken until -

“Eloise!” Michael's harsh, ravaged voice shouted from somewhere far away. “Where are you? Eloise, come back!”

Realizing that she had to get the child hidden, Clanath turned and began to drag her away through the forest. She could still hear the rattling bones, but she told herself that finally she had a chance to save a child.

***

By the time she reached Drifter's Lake, the water had already begun to freeze. Making her way down to the shore, she saw a thin layer of ice forming on the surface, and for a moment she stopped as she tried to work out whether there might be a better option.

Trying frantically to stop thinking about her own dead cubs, she looked out across the lake and thought of Michael rampaging through the darkness. She might have liked Michael many years ago, she might even have sympathized with him, but now she knew that his mind was filled with anger and hatred. She had no idea what would happen to Lisa, but she figured that for now at least she had to help get Eloise away from her father.

Stepping out onto the ice, she found that the ice was extremely unstable. She began to creep away from the shore, ignoring the freezing water that lapped at her paws every time the sheets of ice tipped. Part of her worried that she too might end up sinking into the depths, but finally she reached a point that she hoped was far enough from the shore. She had no idea what was going to happen to Eloise next, and she told herself that all she could do was hide her away for now. And so, after hesitating for a few more seconds, she let go of the child and watched as she sank down into the dark, freezing water.

Away from the world.

Away from the light.

Away from the pack.

Suddenly she heard a cracking sound, and she realized that the lake was freezing faster than ever. She turned and raced back to the shore, and by the time she reached dry land and looked over her shoulder she saw that the entire lake had frozen in a flash. She had no idea how that could be possible, although she wondered whether the elements themselves were conspiring to keep Eloise safe. She wanted to wait and guard her, but she knew that she had to keep going and in the back of her mind she wondered whether she might have some fresh cubs that needed to be protected, or...

Or had that happened long ago?

Unable to keep the different times separate, she turned to hurry back to the forest, only to stop as she saw the man from her nightmares standing a few feet away. This man, she knew now, was an instrument of death itself. Snarling, she lunged at him, only to pass straight through him and slam into some boulders on the other side. She turned and saw that the man was gone; as usual he'd been nothing but a mirage, although she knew he was getting closer and that one day he would find her and end her life.

As snow began to fall, she glanced one more time at the frozen lake and told herself that Eloise would be safe for now, and then she raced away into the forest.

***

Around twenty-four hours later, the man from her nightmares returned, and this time he was so very real.

After seeing the dead cubs in the forest, Clanath's mind had finally broken. She'd returned to the spot where she'd buried some more of the cubs many years earlier; she'd had to dig their corpses out of the frozen ground, and now she wondered whether there might be some way to make them live again. She was near the lake in which she'd hidden Eloise the night before, but she hardly remembered those events at all; instead, she simply stared at the cubs, barely even noticing the wounds she'd suffered after first being hit by a police cruiser and then getting shot.

“Your babies,” the man said with a sigh. “Is that why you've been acting this way? You're trying to protect your babies, but... they've obviously been dead for a little while.”

She told herself that the man had to be lying. She heard him making his way closer, and after a few seconds she turned and snarled; she heard him speaking, but his words were irrelevant and she already knew that she had to protect her cubs at all costs. If the man touched them, there would be no hope of bringing them back, yet she was still desperately trying to think of some way to breathe life back into their frozen corpses. Her mind was riddled with madness now and she knew that this man had silver weapons, but she was no longer capable of rational thought at all.

As she lunged at him, she already knew what was going to happen. The man's gun fired, hitting her in the face and sending her slumping back down against the snow and ice. She immediately tried to get up, but part of her face was missing now and she could barely think beyond the pain. She finally slumped down, trying to summon some more courage even as the man made his way closer. She knew she needed only a few seconds, but then – as he aimed his gun and pressed the tip against what remained of her head – she finally understood that the moment of her death had come. She blinked, shocked to see a sense of kindness in the man's eyes, and then he fired again, blasting her brain apart and bringing an end to her centuries of pain.

Chapter Thirty

Today...

Sitting in McGinty's, staring at the empty bottles of beer as a few candles burned nearby, Al had started to wonder whether he was ever going to taste beer again. Once everyone had left for the night, he'd gone round and tipped all the empty bottles into a bowl, and he'd managed to gather together about half a bottle of saliva-soaked beer. And then, in a moment that he'd sworn he would never admit to anyone, he'd drunk that foul concoction.

Looking up, he saw the photo of Sheryl Digger smiling back down at him.

“Don't start!” he said firmly. “I mean it, I'm not in the mood to be mocked.”

He waited, but of course Sheryl – who'd died a little over a year earlier in a car crash on the edge of town – couldn't possibly answer.

“I'd like to see how you would've coped,” he continued, warming to his theme. “You'd have been a complete nightmare, you were hardly one for coping with disasters. You'd probably have stolen every last bottle of booze in this place and run off with it.”

He paused again, and this time he couldn't help thinking back to his conversations with Sheryl. For all her faults, she'd been a good worker and he missed their easy chats. So many bad things had happened over such a short space of time, and although he usually sought to remain happy and optimistic, in that moment he couldn't help but worry that the worst was yet to come.

A moment later, hearing the door swing open, he turned to see Doug stumbling into the bar.

“We're closed,” Al said with a sigh. “I thought I locked that thing. Dougie, go home and -”

“You have to see this!” Doug stammered. “Al, you won't believe it, but...”

“Is it wolves?” Al asked, getting to his feet. “Have they finally come to tear us all apart?”

“It's not wolves,” Doug said, hurrying back outside. “Not yet, at least. It's a woman and she -”

Although Doug was still talking as he rushed away, Al couldn't make out the rest of his words. Exhausted but also curious, he briefly considered just staying in the bar – before finally figuring that he might as well at least take a look. Wandering across the room, he blew out the few remaining candles before making his way out, shutting the door firmly as he left.

On the shelf, Sheryl Digger's photo was still smiling happily.

***

“What... who is she?” a woman gasped, standing on the sidewalk and watching with a mounting sense of shock as the horrific scene unfolded. “I don't know what this means.”

“I've never seen her before,” another woman added. “Did she get into Sobolton somehow? Is she a -”

Suddenly Penelope screamed, letting out a blood-curdling cry as she continued to stagger along the main street.

Clutching her swollen belly, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, she was still wearing the tattered and torn red dress from the cottage, although in places the fabric had now been ripped to shreds. The hood, meanwhile, had been put up and was covering part of her head, although after a few seconds it crumpled back to reveal her matted and bloodied hair.

“Don't get too close to her,” a man said on the other side of the road. “She might be... I don't know, infected or something.”

“But where did she come from?” another woman asked. “I don't like this. It feels like something new. It feels like they're going to make their move soon.”

“Help me,” Penelope groaned, wincing as her belly shifted slightly. “Somebody, please -”

In that moment she slipped, dropping down onto her knees with a heavy gasp. Almost toppling over, she just about managed to stay partially upright as more blood dribbled from one side of her mouth. When she tried again to call out, two rows of broken teeth were revealed, while her eyes were becoming redder and more bloodied by the minute.

“Stop!” one of the men hissed, as a woman stepped over to her. “Are you crazy? She might be infectious! She might have... I don't know, rabies or something.”

“Someone get the sheriff,” the woman replied, taking care to not get too close as she continued to edge toward Penelope. “Can someone please call the sheriff?”

“You mean Tench?” another woman asked. “I don't think -”

“Call anyone!” the woman snapped. “Call a doctor! Find Doctor Law, or anyone else who might be able to help!”

As several people hurried away in search of assistance, the woman stopped and looked down at Penelope.

“Are you... okay?” she asked, although she immediately realized that the question was idiotic.

“My...”

For a few seconds, Penelope seemed unable to get any words out at all; she tried over and over again, with varying degrees of failure, until finally she managed a low, rumbling growl.

“My name,” she added, “is... Penelope Chandler and I'm... I'm an agent with the... with the...”

“With the what?” Doug asked, as he stepped cautiously over to her.

“With the... Federal...”

She took a moment to try to muster the strength to continue.

“With the Federal... Bureau of...”

“She's with the F.B.I.!” Doug gasped, before turning to the others. “Did you hear that? Someone from the F.B.I. finally showed up! They know we're in trouble and they're gonna help us!”

A murmur of approval rang out across the crowd, although most people were still watching Penelope with an increasing level of suspicion.

“I'm an agent,” she said, slurring her speech slightly as blood began to trickle from her eyes, “with the F.B.I. and I... need you to... get a call through to... to...”

Everyone waited for her to finish, as nervous glances were cast between various people in the crowd.

“I need you to call for backup,” Penelope managed to stay finally, getting to her feet as a rumbling rattling sound emerged from her belly. “I need you to tell them... send everyone they can find and... send them fast and... bring...”

Tottering on weak legs, she clutched her belly increasingly firmly as she tried to find the strength to finish that sentence.

“Silver bullets,” she stammered. “Tell them to bring silver bullets! Tell them to hurry, and tell them that the forest here is teeming with... with...”

She let out a brief belch, and then suddenly the front of her dress began to turn a darker shade of red. Reaching down, she tore the fabric just as her bare belly ruptured, splitting open horizontally to let a number of small, dark rocks tumble out. Landing on the ground, the rocks glistened as blood splattered down against them, and a moment later more rocks fell from her open stomach.

“Is she...”

Stepping back, Doug couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

“Are those...”

“Help me!” Penelope screamed, as loops of her intestines began to drop down from the split, catching some of the rocks and starting to collect in a twisted pile on the ground.

She fumbled to try to push her intestines back in, but they'd become too slippery in the blood and instead more and more rocks fell out until finally she dropped to her knees and then leaned over onto all fours. The last of the rocks were tumbling onto the ground now, allowing her to finally sit up again as ashen-faced onlookers stared hopelessly at the unfolding tragedy.

“There's something on some of them,” Doug said, stepping closer again as he saw white text scratched into a few of the larger rocks. “It's the same thing on each, it says...”

Tilting his head, he took a moment to decipher the writing.

“R.I.P. Ignacious Huddlestone,” he whispered, trying to make sense of the letters. “Then someone has written the word 'revenge' underneath.”

He turned to the crowd again.

“Who the hell is Ignacious Huddlestone?” he asked. “Has anyone ever heard that name before? Does anyone have a clue what's going on here?”

“Help me!” Penelope shouted, still trying to push her intestines back into her body. “Why haven't you called anyone?” she sobbed. “Why won't you help me? Why -”

She hesitated, and then slowly she toppled back until her head cracked against the road. Even before the last gasp had left her lips, her dead eyes were looking up the dark night sky and a steady trickle of blood had begun to run from one corner of her mouth, pooling on the ground and soon connecting with the much larger puddle that was still spreading out from her open belly.

“I don't get it,” Doug continued, staring down at her with an expression of shock on his face. “Who's Ignacious Huddlestone? Is he here? Is he from here?” He turned to look around once more at the others. “Can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Epilogue

“Uh, Scottie?” a voice said, accompanied by a delicate knock on the office door. “Sorry, I know you didn't want to be disturbed but... are you still interested in those calls about Sobolton?”

Looking up from his paperwork, Scott Mendelson saw that Larry from one of the other departments was standing in the doorway.

“It happened again,” Larry continued, heading to the desk and setting a report down. “A woman called this morning to say that she can't get ahold of her niece in Sobolton. She seems to think something's going on there, and although ordinarily I'd just ignore something like this, I remember you talking about it the other day. Are you still worried about the place?”

Sliding the report closer, Mendelson took a moment to scan the paragraphs, quickly picking up the most important points.

“I don't even know where Sobolton is,” Larry added. “What state is it in?”

“This shouldn't still be happening,” Mendelson muttered, grabbing his phone and checking to see when he'd last heard from Penelope Chandler. “Thanks for letting me know. I asked Nellie Chandler to drop by, but I just realized that I haven't heard from her since.”

“You don't think anything's actually wrong there, do you?”

“It would seem unlikely,” Mendelson replied, “but... I don't know, for some reason it keeps bugging me slightly. Can you do me a favor? Can you send a message out to all departments? Tell them that from now on, if anyone gets in touch about Sobolton, I want the case brought straight to me. Can you do that?”

“Sure, but do you really think it matters?”

Mendelson tapped his phone and tried to put a call through to Nellie.

“I honestly don't know,” he admitted. “It's just a hunch, really. I don't usually like hunches, but on this occasion it just won't stop niggling away at me and -”

“This is Penelope Chandler,” a familiar voice said suddenly on the other end of the line. “I'm afraid I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a name and contact details I'll be glad to get back to you.”

This was followed by a brief beeping sound.

“Nellie, it's me,” Mendelson said cautiously. “When you get this message, can you give me a call? I'd just like to know how you're getting on in Sobolton.”

Once he'd cut the call, he leaned back in his chair. For a moment he was unable to shake a palpable sense of concern; he knew Penelope 'Nellie' Chandler too well to believe that she could have simply forgotten to get in touch. Sure, she liked a drink or two, but during working hours she was always extremely professional.

“Are you alright?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he replied, before furrowing his brow. “Sorry, I'm just up to my neck in paperwork and I feel like my head's spinning.”

“I'd better get back,” Larry said, turning and heading to the door before stopping for a moment. “Scottie?” he added, turning to him again. “I know this is gonna sound really weird, but I've got to ask.” He looked around the room for a few seconds. “Do you remember what I came in here for?”

“Just now?”

“Yeah, just now.”

“Well, you...”

Mendelson hesitated, trying to come up with an answer.

“I think you just came to chat, didn't you? About the race at the weekend?”

“Yeah, that must've been it,” Larry said, heading out into the corridor. “That Dillon tap was something else.”

“It sure was,” Mendelson laughed.

Getting back to work, he made a few notes before spotting the report about Sobolton on his desk. He reached out to pull it closer, before pausing at the last second. Finally he scrunched it up and dropped it into the bin next to his desk, where it landed with a dozen other Sobolton-related papers that he'd similarly ignored over the previous few days.

Books in this series so far:

1. Little Miss Dead
2. Swan Territory
3. Dead Widow Road
4. In a Lonely Grave
5. Electrification
6. Man on the Moon
7. Cry of the Wolf
8. In Human Bonds
9. Blood of the Lost
10. Red-Eyed Nellie

Coming soon:

11. Echo of the Dead
12. Dead End Town
13. End of the World

Coming soon

Echo of the Dead

(The Horrors of Sobolton book 11)

Struggling to deal with his divided self, John Tench realizes that he'll soon have to make a decision. Does he want to continue living his old life, or is he ready to embrace a new existence? And can either of those choices help him save Sobolton from the fury of the wolves?

Desperate to save her daughter, Lisa finally comes to the conclusion that she needs to go on the offensive. Armed only with her patchy knowledge of the wolves and their ways, she sets out into the forest on a one-woman mission to rescue Eloise. As far as she's concerned, the town of Sobolton can burn, but she's willing to die if that's the only way to save her daughter.

As different strands of Sobolton's history start to come together, dark forces awaken in the forest and other dangers emerge. Sensing weakness, an ancient enemy believes that the time has finally come to claim its greatest victory.

Echo of the Dead is the eleventh book in the thirteen-part Horrors of Sobolton series, which tells the story of one small town's struggle to deal with the paranormal monstrosities on its doorstep. Each book tells a standalone story, but there are cliffhangers and readers are recommended to go through the series in order.

Also available

THE GHOST IN ROOM 119

Something dangerous is lurking in room 119 of a Barcelona hotel. Something vicious. Something evil. Something that wants revenge.

Arriving in the city for a short break, Penny and Steve are looking forward to a week of sun, sea and sand. Those plans are ruined, however, when Steve thinks he recognizes a woman at the hotel bar. Ten years ago, he dated a girl named Annabelle, but the relationship ended badly. The woman at the bar looks a little like Annabelle, not enough for him to be certain that it's her, but enough for him to worry.

Soon, Steve finds himself drawn into a nightmare. He's starting to see the strange woman everywhere, and now he's worried that he's being followed. Has Annabelle returned to his life? If so, has she turned up in Barcelona by accident or by design? And how is her apparent appearance connected to the strange noises and flickering lights that can be heard every night, coming from room 119?

Also available

THE GHOSTS OF MARSH HOUSE

Marsh House stands abandoned in the heart of an English seaside town. A local ghost tour guide regularly stops in front of the house to tell its grim tale, but no-one has actually set foot in the building for more than forty years. Until now.

Desperate to get away from his troubles in London, Andrew heads to Marsh House and sets about trying to fix it up. Between rotten floorboards and bug infestations, he's got his work cut out for him. And that's before he even notices the strange noises in the night, and the fact that a strange presence is watching his every move.

When he invites a new friend to move in with him, everything changes. Andrew might not have paid attention to the darker side of Marsh House, but his new guest quickly realizes that something's very wrong. Does the ghost of a long-dead woman still haunt the house, cursing anyone who dares to fall in love? And is this malevolent entity somehow also responsible for the death of a local woman whose body was found on the beach?

And by the time he uncovers the shocking truth, will it be too late for Andrew to ever return to his old life?

The Ghosts of Marsh House is a horror story about a man who's trying to run from his own mistakes, and about a woman who'll stop at nothing to make others pay for her misery.