As soon as Eric stepped out into the night, cold rods of rain accosted his body. He gasped and shivered, holding his arms to his body. In a matter of seconds he was dripping from head to toe. He ran back into Beth’s house and went to the cupboard under the stairs, where he knew Beth kept a couple of umbrellas. He sighted an old black one that Lauren loved so much, and smiled sourly, remembering those moments when protruding rods from the umbrella had ruined a couple of his shirts. Lauren had liked the umbrella because it had mojo, whatever that was supposed to mean.
The memory was at once sweet and painful, and a feeling of hopelessness blossomed in his chest as he thought of Lauren again. He shook his head in defiance, trying not to let thoughts like those cloud his judgement.
He ignored the old black umbrella and settled for a smaller green one instead, pairing it with a pale green parka. He walked back out, the umbrella held high over his head, and instinctively shivered again. Despite the parka and umbrella, he still wasn’t ready for the cold. Beth’s house was closer to the outskirts of Beacontown than any other house he knew, surrounded by woods that stretched to the back of the small boxed house. Bracing the cold and the storm, he stepped into the rain and towards the woods.
☆
Thirty minutes later, Eric was bunched up under the rain, rivulets of water dripping down his face and neck. The howling wind had forcefully snatched the umbrella from his hands and despite the parka he wore, his feet were soaked to the bone. He was on the outskirts of Beacontown, on a deserted road that was fairly empty save for a dead raccoon in the middle of the asphalt surface. He released a hand and dug into his Jeans pocket, bringing out his phone and squinting at the screen. The red dot that indicated Beth was still glowing somewhere close to Perkins. He frowned resolutely and swiped at his phone screen, then put it back in his pocket.
He stared ahead at the road, waving his hand and praying for any vehicle to pass by. Before long an almost-new Chevy van with tinted windows screeched to a stop in front of him and Eric cimbed into the front passenger seat.
“Thanks, man,” he said to the driver who had picked him up. He rubbed his hands together in front of the heater vent. “I was afraid I was going to freeze to death before I got a lift. It’s pouring buckets out there.”
“No biggie.” The guy said and turned back to the road.
“I’m Eric.” He said, trying to start a conversation.
”Good to know you.” The man replied without offering his own name. He slipped the van into gear and eased back into the road. ”Where are you heading, Eric?”
”Beacontown. I’m going to-see a friend.” Eric murmured. It wasn’t particularly a lie, he thought. Well, perhaps the “seeing” part was. He wasn’t sure he’d be seeing Lauren at all. But then the guy was a total stranger. It would be weird if he gave too much information.
Eric tried to relax and distract himself. Hometown by Twenty-One Pilots was playing on the car radio and he nodded his head to the music, letting it wash away his anxiety. He looked around the van, noting that the inside was as neat as the outside. The dashboard was free of the normal bits and pieces that usually littered cars, and the only ornament was a brown sticker with a rearing wolf and the word “CLAWBACK” on the windshield.
He glanced at the driver and noted his looks. The man was bearded and darkskinned. He was wearing a baseball cap and under his cap were tangled locks of hair-dreadlocks similar to Eric’s. Eric’s eyes traveled from the toned hands that gripped the steering wheel, to the man’s upper arms. Strong, bazooka-like biceps peeped from the armless basketball jersey the man was putting on. Eric gaped, wondering how one person could pack so much muscle.
On the man’s right arm were three long pale scars. They followed each other horizontally, reminding him of the Adidas logo. Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the parka he wore slipping wetly under his butt. He wondered if his man was part of a sort of secret mafia gang
“What are you looking at?” The man asked suddenly.
Eric almost jumped out of his seat and averted his eyes. “N-nothing.”
“It’s rude to stare.” The man growled, his eyes still on the road.
“I’m sorry.”
“Use your seatbelt, boy.”
“Of-of course. I’m sorry,” he said again and fastened his seat belt, trying not to look at the man. He fished his phone from his pocket and tapped on Google Maps again. Beth’s dot was still glowing in Perkins, and he nodded, satisfied, placing his phone in his laps.
Eric drew in a deep, even breath, lulled by the rhythm of the van and the highway. He wasn’t sure what he would find in Perkins, but he knew deep down that Beth and perhaps Lauren was hiding some things from him. Things they were trying valiantly not to tell him. Soon he found his eyes closing involuntarily, and he gave in to sleep.
Voices invaded his sleep: men’s voices, low but quite loud. Eric awakened with a start and looked around. Outside the van’s windows, night had fallen. He rubbed a hand across his forehead and found that he was sweating. He looked at the driver and saw that the man was facing the backseat of the van, one hand still on the steering wheel. The radio had been turned down and the car had stopped, though the engine was still rolling.
“The Alpha asked us to stop here before we cross the Perkins’ border.” A voice at the back was saying.
“Okay, so what do we do with the human?” The driver asked. “Where do we drop him?”
“Let’s drop him at the border.” Another voice, this one female answered. “He can find his way from here, can’t he?”
Human? Alpha? What were they talking about?
The driver nodded and turned to the front, his eyes meeting Eric’s as he did so. Eric’s eyes traveled from the man’s eyes to the scars on his arm, and as he looked closely he realised what they were.
Claw marks.
Eric looked back up, and for a fleeting moment he saw the man’s eyes flash in the darkness. The flash was sudden, scary and beastly. Before he knew it his neck was in the man’s iron grip and the man’s face was inches close to his, his ropes of hair tickling Eric’s face.
“I told you not to stare.” He growled.