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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:24:11 GMT
And Then What? Chapter Thirty-One
It hadn't taken long to get back to the copse though it was full dark now. In fact, judging by the change of shade in the blackness of the sky, it was the wee small hours of the morning.
Her escape may have been quite swift, all in all, but it was, however taking considerably longer to find Aleks. Annie discovered the young werewolf was not where she'd left him, though the indentation in the grass showed he had lain there for quite some time. The boy and his bag were gone. Given what she'd just seen just now, this was quite alarming for Annie but, she couldn't just run around shouting his name. Besides, it wouldn't take long for the vampires chasing her to realise what had happened and where she was likely to have gone.
“Annie?” A small voice called timidly from nearby.
She turned quickly, not able to see where the voice was coming from. “Aleks?” She whispered, taking a step toward where she thought he might be.
“Annie.” The little boy said again. A leaf twisted damply down in front of her. She looked up and found the child had scaled the nearest tree and was snuggled securely in the crook of a branch. He looked at her a little dozily and she realised he'd gone up there to sleep. Didn't he realise that was probably a more dangerous place to sleep than on the ground? It was then that she realised that in general, children had no fear of things like that. Its only when you got older that you could see inherent dangers.
“Come on down, sweetheart.” She coaxed, arms stretched upwards as she beckoned with both hands.
Aleks uncurled a little, looking around Annie intently. “Where Giorgi?”
“He's still inside. But he's alright. Come on, Aleks. We need to get away.” She repeated, hating the way it sounded like she didn't care. The little boy slid the bag across him and climbed down. When he got near enough, Annie lifted him down and smoothed the rumpled hair which stuck up on the right side of his head. He had red lines on his skin from the seams of the canvas bag he had used as a pillow. “I'll come back for the others afterwards.” She whispered, taking hold of the child's hand.
“Nyet. Now. I help.” Aleks shot back, pulling his hand out of Annie's deftly. He started back toward the warehouse when Annie caught him about the waist and turned him around. He pushed at her to get her to let go, but she wouldn't.
“Aleks, if you want to help, stop this. Do you understand?”
In response, the child stopped struggling and pouted. “No! You said to bring Giorgi back.” He accused, small lips pursed as he glanced between Annie and building. “You promised.”
“And I first promised George I'd keep you safe and you're not if you're here.” She crouched in front of him, putting herself at his level and letting go of him. “When you are safe, I can help get George and everyone else out.” In truth she had no idea how she'd accomplish any of that right now, but she had time to work on it. “But if you won't go, I'll have to leave them in there forever and I don't want that. Do you?”
He child regarded her solemnly with a small shake of his head. “Not with wamphyr.” Aleks mumbled moodily, moving his hands toward his face before shivering.
“Come on then.” Annie offered her hand. She wasn't going to try to force him to go with her this time. With another backward glance, he obediently took her hand and followed along. They made it through the trees to the car quickly and while Aleks bent the seat forward to crawl into the back seat, Annie began rooting through the car. She remembered that she hadn't left Mitchell's phone out on the dash with the other things and so was fairly sure it had to be somewhere in the car. She couldn't remember what she'd done with it, her concern for Mitchell and George at the time had drowned that part of her memory out. But that mobile was of paramount importance right now. It wasn't on the floor among the thousands of tiny pieces of glass. Nor was it on the seat. It wasn't behind it or in the back anywhere.
Aleks, knowing she was looking for something, began rooting around himself. From the pocket of the drivers door he found many things and held each one up in hopes they were what Annie was looking for – a soggy old cloth Mitchell used to wipe condensation from the inside of the windows in a morning, a screwed up cigarette packet, three spent disposable lighters and several scrumpled cereal bar wrappers. Each time she shook her head and told him no.
Finally she found it in what should have been the most obvious place imaginable, inside the glove box. The screen lit up and showed three missed calls, all from one number. With a quick check to see if Aleks was okay, she hit enter to return the call.
*****
Nina had to admit, Michael wasn't quite the mental case she had first thought he was. After the shock of hearing George's voice, he had helped her to a seat, made her a hot drink and after telling her how he, Annie and Mitchell had met, had slowly and charmingly coaxed the full story surrounding the message out of her. Nina questioned why he'd not known George too, since he also lived here. Michael was reluctant to discuss that and would only say that Annie had helped him change and that before she had helped him, he hadn't been able to see any living creatures so hadn't known George was there at all. The new werewolf accepted this easily, unaware that it was not a normal thing to have happen.
“What were you saying outside?” Nina asked. “About my face moving? I don't get that at all.” She wrinkled her nose in query.
“I've never seen it before, but I don't know if I've ever met a werewolf before, either. Its like something dark moving just under the skin. It does look like an animal now that I know what you are. Its fanscinating.”
He was staring again and Nina leaned away, ostensibly to pick up her brew but mainly because such close attention was making her nervous. She only really liked that from George when he they were cuddling and he was pointing out the things he loved about her. Her George. She now realised that Mitchell and Annie had to have gone off to find him. That was probably the reason they weren't home. But the message hadn't left any clues as to where the call came from or how to find him or anything. An icy hand touched hers and jerked her out of her thoughts. “Hey, they'll find him, you know.” Michael said softly.
A tinny rendition of The William Tell Overture broke into the conversation abruptly. Nina jumped and Michael was looking around in surprise before Nina remembered it was her phone. Sasha had set its ringtone to this for a joke last week, when she was still staying at her friend's place, and she'd not figured out how to set it back yet. She sprang to her feet and delved into her jacket pocket eagerly. He hit the answer button as it was half way out of her pocket. “Hello!” She answered, slightly too eagerly.
“Nina! Nina, its Annie.” Nina let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Where are you? Where's George? Do you know? Is Mitchell with you? What's happening?” All of her frustrations and anxieties tumbled out in a stream of eager questions so that Annie was forced to shout to interrupt.
*****
“Nina, hold on!!” Annie shouted into the small handset, making Aleks cower back a little. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “We've found him.” Annie heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the call and resumed talking before Nina could ask any more questions. “But we have a problem and I need you to come and pick me up. Could you do that?”
“Of, of course.” Nina replied, sounding worried. “Where are you?”
Annie stopped and looked around. There were trees and farmland on all sides of this long, winding road. Where in the heck was she? She hadn't thought of that. She tried to remember the signs they had passed and the things their red headed captive vampire had said when giving directions.
“Annie? Are you there?!” A worried voice bled through into her thoughts.
“Kingston Seymour.” Annie murmured as something glimmered in her memory, an idle comment the vampire made. She beckoned Aleks toward her and he slid across the back seat, the bag still in his hand.
*****
“What?” Nina asked, firing a glance over at Michael who was on his feet and gesturing that he wanted to be told what was being said. “Annie, I can't hear you properly.”
“We're near Kingston Seymour!” Annie repeated, her voice soft over the phone.
“Kingston Seymour. Where's that? Oh, never mind, I've got SatNav, I'll find it. Just wait there. I'll be there as soon as I can.” Nina shouted down the phone. She heard a faint confirmation and a thankyou from the other end of the line then a buzz as Annie broke off the call.
After she hung up, Nina had realised the time and decisively rang the hospital. She told them she was ill and wouldn't be in for the next couple of days at least. They sounded unhappy with her but right now she couldn't care less. Hell, she rarely had sick days and always covered when someone else was skiving off so she was sure they could find someone to cover for her for a change.
“They've found him?” Michael asked.
Nina nodded, unhooking her jacket from the coat rack as she spoke. “But Annie needs picking up. She wants me to bring them all home.” She couldn't help the big beaming smile on her face.
“Can I come too? I won't be any trouble.” Michael asked, looking almost as excited as Nina herself was.
“Sure, why not? My car's on the next street down – but, um, I left my SatNav at home.” Nina slid her jacket on and dug deep for her keys. Michael trotted along behind her as she opened the front door, leaving the lights switched on.
*****
Annie hung up as the mobile began to bleep, telling her it had a low battery. She ended the call in hopes of preserving the little battery life left. She hoped her instructions and her thanks got through. Aleks was perched on the cusp of the car door. “A friend is coming to take you somewhere safe. But we have to go and meet her because I don't think she'll find her way here. Okay?” She again offered her hand and Aleks took it as he clambered to his feet. “So, we'll walk this way, right?” She asked, swinging the little boys arm and pointing back down the road they had driven up sometime yesterday evening. Aleks disengaged his hand from Annie's to close the car door then grasped her cold fingers again as they made their way along the tarmac.
Annie was deliberately not looking back toward where her friends were being held. Inwardly however, she promised to be back as soon as she could.
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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:25:01 GMT
And Then What? Chapter Thirty-Two
Three hours later, four figures stood on the edge of farmland, looking slightly down at the sprawling yet somehow still boxy building. “So that's it?” Nina asked shakily.
Annie nodded, looking over. “Yeah.” Aleks was clinging to her, the poor little boy looked exhausted. “They're in there.” Nina was staring down and Annie didn't like that calculating look she was seeing. “Okay, time for you to go home.”
Nina didn't respond. Michael, standing a little back from the others with his hands thrust into his jacket pockets, suddenly cleared his throat. “So what are they doing to them in there?” He asked seriously.
Annie was surprised when Aleks shook his hand loose and babbled something in high, fast Russian, touching his throat and arms before looking up at the adults to see if they had understood him. Everyone had a confused look on their faces and Aleks snorted in frustration. Annie crouched in front of the child and put a hand on his small shoulder, not sure what he'd said but certain it was relevant to Michael's question. “Do they hurt you?” Nina asked, also crouching.
At this question the boy looked torn, as if unsure if they did hurt the captives or not. However, Nina took this to mean that they did and he was scared to say. She stood abruptly. “We have to get them out.” She stated, taking several steps forward.
“Nina, no! There are way too many of the vampires in there for just us to deal with.” Annie explained, also standing. “We wouldn't stand a chance.”
Nina stopped and turned, an unusual blaze in her eyes. “I don't care. I'm not losing him after everything that's happened. I can't, not after... ”
“You won't lose him but if we just barge in there, they have ways of really doing damage to everyone inside. We need to be smarter than them.” Annie explained reasonably, leaving Aleks behind for a moment and moving closer to the obviously emotionally charged she-wolf. It wasn't far off the full moon so she understood that, like George, Nina and Aleks were becoming more prone to rash and impulsive actions but unlike him, they didn't seem to be fighting them quite so successfully. “You know I'm right.”
“So when, then?” Nina had an almost petulant set to her jaw as she asked that. “We can't leave them in there.”
“We won't have to. Hide!” Michael suddenly warned. Several vampires had appeared from around the side of the building and were headed toward them.
“RUN!” Annie shouted as the vampires spotted them. Grabbing Nina's arm, Annie dragged her friend away while Michael urged an already sprinting Aleks to move faster toward the car. Nina, her sensibilities restored by the jolt, overtook them all and got to the car first. She was scrabbling the key in the door lock as the vampires charged through the side gate near the chipboard panels and headed toward them.
Annie and Michael got the same idea at the same time and evaporated to the interior, Michael unlocking the drivers door while Annie did likewise for the passenger side. Aleks scrambled inside and curled himself down in the front footwell, a place he felt safest. Nina, meanwhile got herself into the drivers seat and twisted the key in the ignition. A quick glance out of the windscreen showed that the vampires were nearly upon them. The engine coughed and whined but did nothing. “Oh, come on you piece of sh...” Nina cursed as the engine spluttered into life. She made a mental not to get the car completely and fully serviced as soon as she could then slammed the manual gears into reverse and rolled backward in a wide circle. The rear bumper dropped two of the pursuing vampires, having hit them in the shins. Nina didn't feel at all guilty about this – it was the vampires or them and she had no loyalty to those vampires. Grimly, she thrust the small car's gearstick into first, slammed her foot to the floor and sped off back down the road.
*****
Mitchell looked over at George. Both were now back with the masses, George huddled closer to the other werewolves yet apart from everyone just as Mitchell himself was apart from the only other vampires in the room at present.
It had been probably a day and a half, maybe two, since the question of his personal history had arisen and the discussion hadn't quite gone the way Mitchell wanted or hoped. George had taken in the news of Mitchell's colourful and brutal history in an eerily calm way, asking relevant questions but really not pushing for any details. The two had sat side by side, talking, away from the others, for a long time. So now George knew Mitchell's personal werewolf kill tally was around 87 and many of them were simply those he encountered on his travels. They weren't sought out or gathered up as Turner had done, he explained, it was simply pure chance. A scant few had been recovering after the full moon and probably never knew what hit them but more often than not they were very much aware of their assault.
A silence stretched out between them before George asked softly, “Was it... quick... for them?”
At this question, Mitchell had pressed his lips together. Now that he understood part of the suffering they went through, he could see why this would be important, not only to George but to the others. This was the only thing he partially lied about during the entire time. “Yeah. It always seemed to be over quickly for them.” George nodded his understanding. “Most of them might never have known why or how they were chosen.” He added.
“Like me at the cafe.” George replied, his tone dead and his eyes even more lifeless. The conversation had continued, punctuated by light coughing, in this almost disaffected manner until Li's voice came over the tannoy warning them to return to the group or he would use the siren. George had struggled in rising. His chilled bones and general lethargy prompting Mitchell to stretch out a helping hand. This George had refused abruptly. Since then, the werewolf had not spoken to anyone. He had removed the leather jacket Mitchell had given him and now curled up, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Mitchell's attempts to get him to put it back on. In the end, the vampire reluctantly slid into his well worn coat to stave off the biting cold himself.
The meat had been picked at at the living creatures in the room began to succumb to their pangs. The woman, Zhen, had been the first to crawl forward and gingerly scratch a length of now very chilled meat from the nearest carcass. She had grimaced and heaved as she ate it but had managed to keep it down. She'd very quickly gone back for more, heaving every time but clearly needing the sustenance. Her sugar-daddy, Kelvin, had been next. Tully, several hours later, had ripped a little pork from the corpse before them and then offered some to George who had shaken his head and lowered his chin to his knees. Yuri was yet to give in and eat but he was now more often than not gazing longingly at the food before them. Not that he could blame them. Mitchell himself had partaken of some of the meat while the majority had settled down to sleep. Sickened by his own actions, he only ate a little before realising one person was watching him. The blue eyes were neither accusing nor sympathetic as George watched him drink some water then return to his place.
In all this time George had moved from his place only once, avoiding the pig and scooping a few handfuls of the fresh, running water to his mouth. Even this seemed to exhaust him yet he had not slept. His eyelids would droop and Mitchell was convinced on a few occasions that his friend was finally sleeping when all of a sudden he would give a start and force himself awake.
This was happening once more. George's head lolled forward then slightly to one side as his eyes closed. “Please, just let him get some rest now.” Mitchell thought as he yawned himself. What he saw next, however, snapped him back to full wakefulness yet again.
George jerked awake and with a ferocity Mitchell had never seen before, bit into his own right forearm savagely, drawing blood. He barely made a murmur as the blood flowed freely down his arm, dripping from his elbow onto the dead man's jeans he wore. George simply glared at the wound with a stony expression.
This far too much for Mitchell to bear. He moved in and knelt beside his friend, who really had nowhere to go since the sleeping Tully had snuggled against his side, and put a surprisingly steady hand on George's wrist. “Jesus, what's wrong with you?” He hissed, pressing his hand over the bite to staunch the quite copious flow. The question came out more sharply and angrily than Mitchell intended, probably a result of his own lack of sleep. George looked around slowly, first at Mitchell, then right through him and then on past him. “Why did you do that?” He asked less harshly, gently turning his friend's arm over while pulling the staunching hand away. There were very distinct marks from George's teeth beneath his torn sleeve, the wounds oozing slowly. The smell was maddening, pure, living Lyco blood was one of the most infuriating and intoxicating scents in the world but this had another underlying aroma attached, one which actually quelled Mitchell's natural reaction. The same could not be said for Turner and Crowley – he sensed them move behind him and could feel them both change to dark eyed hunger.
George murmured something as he stared now between Mitchell's hovering hand and the self-inflicted injury. The vampire smothered the terrible anger he was feeling toward his friend right now as blood clung wetly to his palm, still hot. Mitchell swayed slightly as he wiped the blood away on George's jeans. Well, he had gore all over them already, a little more wouldn't hurt.
“What was that?” He asked, forcing himself to steady his tone.
“Its not safe to sleep.” George murmured again, only marginally more distinct than before. At this range Mitchell could hear a slight whistle with every breath George took. The thick dark circles under his eyes gave his face the caste of a corpse.
“Please, you're killing yourself. I can't let you do this. You have to...”
“No.” George croaked. “I don't have to do anything.” He coughed, wincing as he moved the wrong arm to cover his mouth. Mitchell still clutched the other hand yet he released it quickly. “You're... this is my choice. Mine.” He tapped himself on the chest, scowling as he used his injured arm to unconsciously touch the barest edge of his shoulder scar. It was almost like he was revelling in the pain.
“Look, all that stuff was... its in the past. You don't have to be afraid of me.”
“I know.” George swallowed. “Its not you I'm scared of.” His breathing deepened, increasing the slight wheeze. “If, if I go to sleep...” He looked away guiltily. “Mitchell, I know what I did. Christ, I know. And if I sleep, I might see it again. And I can't...” He shook his head, grief stricken, before cradling his forehead in his hands.
Was it possible he did know? Mitchell couldn't be sure but if it was as George had said and he was beginning to remember parts of being the wolf, maybe he... if he could remember then he was going to be mired in guilt. All those deaths.
“Wakey wakey! Its time for your monthly treat, animals!” Li's voice echoed harshly through the warehouse, startling both the sleeping and conscious alike. “Up! On your feet. Now!”
As everyone stood up, some faster than others, Li continued sneeringly, his delight in this turn of events obvious in his voice.“Now this is a little something I've introduced. Mr Turner, you always think within set parameters. Inside the box. While I say, 'What box?'” He laughed, an unpleasantly loud and grating sound.
He continued to laugh as the doors to the cold room opened wide.
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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:26:11 GMT
And Then What? Chapter Thirty-Three
Once back at the House, there was quite a debate going on between werewolves and ghosts as Annie explained that Aleks needed someone to look after him while she got into working on the rescue plan. “Nina,” Annie continued carefully. “Besides that, Michael and I would be the only ones able to get into the building undetected in the first place anyway.”
“But I've got good senses right now. I can help.” Nina protested, despite sounding so obviously scared. “You said yourself that there were too many of them for four of us to take on, so there must be too many for you as well”
Her bravado was touching. Nina's savage beating last month had left her wary, or indeed afraid, of all but one vampire and the chase earlier today presumably only added to that fear she had. Knowing Nina would offer to help in spite of all her reservations was exactly why she had become a real friend to them. But Annie insisted she could handle it.
“Maybe but I took on an army of vampires at the undertakers, just like that.” She snapped her fingers in the air to make her point, quite surprised when they actually made a sound. “So a warehouse full of them should be a piece of cake.”
Aleks asked, sitting at the kitchen table with a large bowl of steaming porridge in front of him and a small cup of tea - he'd pulled his face at the unfamiliar taste of tea but drank it nonetheless. “Cake?” He asked hopefully, having finished scraping the dregs of oats from the bottom of the bowl.
“The madeira's okay, but I think the cream in your Victoria Sponge is on the turn.” Nina commented, sounding far calmer than she had even five minutes before.
Michael raised an eyebrow, once more impressed by the werewolf he'd only just met, and leaned nonchalently against the fridge as Annie retrieved the golden madeira cake from the cupboard near the back door. Sure enough, the cream on the still-wrapped sponge cake beside it had turned an off white, almost yellow. She was about to throw it away but thought better of it and set it aside on the kitchen counter. The madeira she cut into slices and poured over some clotted cream from the fridge.
Before long, after eating and drinking top capacity, Aleks began to droop and Annie was sure Nina looked a lot more relaxed than she had. It was then that she made the suggestion that they all stay here, take care of the House, while she went back for the boys. Annie got protests but not from the direction she expected.
“Hey, what am I, Scotch mist?” Michael argued. “I want to help. Nina can look after the lad and I'll come with you, that way we're all covering each other's backs.”
Surprisingly, Nina had agreed without much coercion, punctuating her replies with yawns and stretches. Aleks, however, saw things differently and tried to cling to Annie as she left with Michael. The poor mite was tired out and scared that yet another adult was going to leave him and not come back. He began to cry, the strain of his new freedom and all the recent events proving too much for him to bear. Nina, looking somewhat weary herself, plucked him away from Annie's cardigan, picked him up and held him on her hip. Aleks took a deep breath and then buried his face in her neck, hot tears sliding down inside her collar.
“We'll stay here until you get back. You will bring them home safe, right?” Nina asked, cradling the child and setting a foot on the bottom step. She and Aleks were going to have a sleep.
“We will.” Michael promised before Annie had a chance to reply. With that, they were gone.
*****
Annie sighed. It'd been a lot longer than she'd anticipated before she and Michael could get back to the warehouse. Moving the short-ish distance from the house the the hospital and back was fair enough, but this warehouse was several short jumps away and getting their bearings had taken time. Once they got back, they found the warehouse in rather a more agitated state than when Annie left it. More people were now chained to this side of the broken wall, among them was her new friend Anneka who still wore the open-backed hospital gown but now nothing else, no bandages or other accoutrements. In fact, all six of the new people were in the same state. She'd seen them all before as she had wandered the corridors. They were all new werewolves and Annie just knew they were the ones unlucky enough to survive George's outing last month. Everyone seemed on edge, agitated - not that Annie could blame them.
Annie was standing in the little toilet area, peering around the doorway and wondering what they could possibly do to help. Michael leaned around her to see, putting his lips close to her ear. “What do we do?” He whispered, eyes flickering to every face that he could see.
“I have no idea.” Annie admitted. “I could, I mean we could...”
An untethered and unfamiliar vampire suddenly emerged between the two walls and looked right at them. Annie and Michael ducked back out of sight rapidly. They could hear a scrape of chains, low but undecipherable voices then footsteps heading their way. The two of them shrank back into the toilet stall furthest from the door, the one with the white dust on the floor, as the footsteps grew louder and closer.
“Get in there!” A voice growled. “And hurry up. I haven't got all day to stand about while you pee.”
“Its not only a pee I need so you'll just have to wait.” A familiar voice grumbled back under his breath. There came the sound of someone relieving himself which seemed, in Annie's mind, to go on forever. Michael grinned at her, stifling any sound with his hand in an acutely childish manner, but Annie was feeling quite embarrassed. “Said we'd have daily access, its been too days, I'm bursting.” The man continued to mutter as the stream stopped and there came a running of water. The cubicle door opened and Tully let out a cry of surprise.
“What's up?” The bored vampire called over his shoulder, really not wanting to be bothered seeing the animals defacating.
Annie waved her hands, begging him not to give them away but Tully didn't need telling to be quiet about their presence. He winked at them and poked his head out of the cubicle. “The last one in didn't flush. Dirty b*st*rds. Its about the size of a crocodile. Want to come and have a look?” He offered in that low, mocking tone Annie remembered from his stay at their home. She shivered.
“Oh f*ck off.” The vampire replied, turning his back and folding his arms grumpily, hating babysitting duty even more than ever now.
Tully grinned, glad to have at least managed to goad one of their captors for a little while. He squeezed into the cubicle and flushed the toilet to keep up the pretence. “What are you doing here? And who are you?” The questions were asked to Annie and Michael in turn and a low, fast tone.
“This is Michael and we're here to get you all out.” Annie informed him urgently, intensely grateful that Michael had tagged along now. She didn't want to be alone with Tully ever again. For all her newfound power, she discovered that crushed together in the tiny cubicle with the lust-driven werewolf, she was still reduced to the weak, frightened, once-battered woman around men like him.
However, there was no lust in Tully's eyes. He nodded in greeting at Michael then regarded Annie. “Okay, tell me how I can help.” He whispered, no nonsense, no charm offensive, no lascivious stares up and down her body. Through his thick facial hair, his eyes were alight with hope. Thrown by the difference in the man, Annie couldn't reply straight away. The flush had filtered from a gush to a whistle and on into silence. Tully held up a finger, indicating for them to hold on. “Bloody hell, it won't go down!” Tully lamented loudly and reflushed to the sound of a huffing noise from the guard. “Go on.” He urged with a roll of his hand.
“We were hoping you could help us figure out how.” Michael joined in, no longer grinning in the face of such an urgent matter.
“Yeah, we can't see how to get you out short of bulldozing the wall.” Annie added, looking around. “Not that it would take a lot of bulldozing.”
Tully frowned, thinking. “There's a clothing room on the other side of the water trough. I think, behind all the clothes and stuff, there might be a door through into their parts of the building but I don't know how much help that is.” The toilet was already petering into silence once more. “Try there.” He added then leaned in close to Annie's ear. She fought the urge to pull away. “I'll let George and Mitchell know you're here. It might help them. They're, um, struggling right now.” He pulled back and indicated for them to stand aside. He opened the cubicle door as he sidled around Michael. As he passed by to leave, Annie whispered something back and he smiled. They heard him as he closed the door and began addressing the vampire once more. “I can't get it to go down – its a tenacious turd, that one. You're going to have to get a plumber, mate.” He said, opening the next cubicle along and going inside. A thoroughly disgusted groan filtered through to them.
Making use of the distraction, Annie and Michael disappeared to find the clothing room.
*****
“Annie?” George asked softly. The mention of her name wrought a welcome effect. In fact, it was the most animated he'd been for a few hours. Tully had spotted the bite mark but said nothing about it as he broke the news.
Tully nodded, grinning. “She's brought a mate with her and they're going to try to get us out.” He added, glancing meaningfully toward the clothing room right opposite where he now sat. The lone guard had taken Kelvin to the toilet now so for the minute they were free to talk, if only in whispers.
“And they were hiding in the loo?” Mitchell asked, leaning across George to speak to the other werewolf.
Tully nodded vigorously. “And she said to tell you, Aleks is safe with a friend.” George closed his eyes, relieved - a sentiment Mitchell echoed but far less noticeably.
“We, we can't go until after tonight, though.” George said, suddenly sounding stronger though whether this was because of the knowledge of Annie's presence or an effect brought on by the soon to arise moon, Mitchell couldn't tell. “Its not safe until after tonight.” He reiterated as he glanced over at Mitchell then beyond him to Turner and Crowley before coming back to his friend. He looked worried. He continued in a lower tone. “But we have to get you out. If we don't you'll be killed when we transform. And, and someone needs to look after Aleks. I mean, whoever has him isn't going to know about what happens tonight. Does Annie know he's a werewolf?”
Mitchell took his friend by the shoulders. “George, calm down. She knows. You know she does. I'm sure she'll have made sure whoever he's with takes good care of him.” Before George could interrupt, he added, “And knows the risks.” The werewolf sagged a little beneath his hands and gave a trusting look which Mitchell hadn't thought he'd ever see again from his friend. He smiled, as much out of relief as encouragement. “We'll find a way out, all of us.”
“I wonder where all these new werewolves came from.” Tully interrupted suddenly, his voice a tad louder than it had been. It was his subtle warning that the guard was coming back.
Mitchell sat down where he was so it wouldn't look quite so conspicuous as Kelvin was rechained. Next it was Zhen's turn to be escorted to the amenities and as she passed, Mitchell couldn't help but notice how George took a deep breath and acquired an almost dreamy look on his features. The moment fled as soon as it arrived but he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before his brow creased and his eyes flew open. When the guard was out of earshot, George leaned over. “I know how we can do this.” He hissed triumphantly, patting Mitchell's arm and sharing his first real smile for days.
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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:27:05 GMT
And Then What? Chapter Thirty-Four
Mitchell had asked exactly what the plan was but George either didn't want him to know yet or perhaps didn't trust him enough to tell him. He sincerely hoped his friend's reticence was to do with the former. Either way, they lapsed into another silence in which, surprisingly, Tully's words came back. “I wonder where all these new werewolves came from?” Mitchell had to admit that they all looked familiar and the niggling feeling that he should know them came through.
A sly glance at George told him his friend was deep in thought, probably divining the last details of his master plan from inside that mind of his. And then he knew. He knew exactly where they came from and remembered why he should have known them. All the times he'd passed that memorial, his gaze sliding over all the myriad of stranger's faces to find the one familiar one, never realising he was memorizing those that weren't. And now, at least half those people from that board were behind him, perhaps unaware of what would happen to them in such a short time from now since they seemed scared and uncomfortably restless but not apprehensive. “Such is the way of the curse”, George had one said in a rare and marginally relaxed moment many moon ago.
Abruptly, the cold room door swung open and more vampires entered, again bearing 'gifts'. The gifts this time were humans, lots of them, most looking like families. They huddled together in their little groups, all scared half to death and even the biggest of the men unable to fight back. The vampires forcibly lined them up on the edge of the water trough, facing the picked at hunks of raw meat. The last vampire in closed and locked the cold room door from the inside. The vampires all carried odd-shaped weapons which Mitchell recognised as tranquilliser guns. So the moon was close now.
Turner was the first to stand, to the loud clanking of his chains, and stared at the men and women in front of him, but focusing most keenly on the children, two of them holding onto each other tightly. “What is this?” He demanded, anger strengthening the Scottish trace beneath his plummy English accent.
“This, Turner, is a new idea of mine.” Li's voice boomed from the PA system, startling everyone. “Quite brilliant and forward thinking, I'd say.”
George had been the only one not to look up when Li had spoken. Now he stood and spoke, strong, clear and severely pissed off. Not the kind of stuttering anger he expressed at home, Mitchell noted, but a pure, soul-deep rage which tore away any hesitancy and lent confidence to the words. “Not brilliant. Not forward thinking, either. Unnecessary and heartless, I'd say. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what he's going to do.”
“And what is it you think I'm going to do, Mr Rocket Scientist?” Li mocked, obviously able to hear what happened in the room somehow. Mitchell worried whether he'd overheard the plan.
George raised his chin. “The raw meat was just the start, to get us used to the taste. When we transform, you'll have your men throw those poor people in with us. We'll either kill or infect them.” Some of the humans gasped, some whimpered and one man burst into tears. George continued slowly as everyone else got to their feet, watching him with a horrified intensity that would usually have made him falter. But not tonight. “The infected will be kept here, after having their wounds tended, and treated as animals, barely fed and only just kept warm enough to live until, like the rest of us, they'll die.” The bleak tale George outlined was sickening yet in spite of that, Mitchell had to say there was a ring of genius to it.
*****
Annie and Michael drew back. They'd found the clothing room earlier, but had been unable to find a door before they heard new people coming in and the voice over the tannoy. Now George's theory of what was about to happen brought tears to Annie's eyes and shocked Michael. “That's just cruel.” He whispered.
“We won't let it happen.” Annie replied, just as softly, as she peered around the door. She had a perfect line between the humans and vampires to see George and found her friend looking right at her. A tiny smile touched the corners of his mouth but went no further. Moving only his eyes, he looked at the chains between his feet, and then back at Annie. She knew he meant for her to break the chains, but did he mean only his and Mitchell's or everyone's?
“All of us.” George intoned darkly as if continuing his previous observation concerning death but very clearly telling Annie what he wanted her to do. She gave him two thumbs up and the tiny smile twitched again. She had no idea what he was thinking of after that but it wasn't like he could tell her. She'd just have to trust that he knew what he was doing.
“Christ.” Mitchell murmured, unable to see the interplay between George and Annie because his view of the was blocked by a stocky vampire in an inexplicably bright orange shirt and worried by the reactions he was seeing in his lycanthropic friend.
“Ahh, when they said you were clever, they weren't wrong, were they?” Li laughed over the speaker system once more. “No wonder you're so much trouble.”
George gave a grim smile. “You have no idea how troublesome I can be.” He murmured darkly. “Are you ready?” He added, not looking at Mitchell.
“For what?”
“When I tell you, we gather up those people and run like hell over those bricks.” Mitchell started to look around for what George was referring to when his friend sighed. “Just follow my lead, okay?”
The signal, however, didn't come from George as was expected. One of the humans, the one nearest Yuri, took it upon himself to try to get away from their kidnappers and turned on one of the vampires behind him. He received a smart rap behind the ear from the tranquilliser gun for his trouble and dropped like a stone. That was the trigger and Annie came out of hiding, simultaneously shattering the chains with a deafening and strangely high-pitched clang and throwing every vampire aside. The latter was a tactic she was getting quite good at now.
She and Michael came out of hiding as Mitchell and George, free from their shackles, made a run for the brick pile that Mitchell had simply not realised was there before. As they hit the edge of the trench, George stumbled and only failed to fall thanks to Mitchell's quick reactions in grabbing his arm and dragging him over the water. George let out a groan, prompting Mitchell to worry that he'd hurt himself somehow, but there was no time to do anything about it right now.
George was already shouting to the humans to run toward the brick pile, gesturing expansively. They hesitated for a moment, stunned and scared and in need if guidance. Annie gently pushed them toward the 8 feet tall pile of bricks, not sure where George was taking them but not doubting he was doing his best for them. Michael, slower on the uptake, joined in helping people toward the bricks. Mitchell was relieved to see George had already sufficiently recovered and was stooping to help the fallen man up. For his part, Mitchell got himself under the man's arm and helped him begin to walk.
The new werewolves had rounded the wall and were now making their way toward those who seemed to be escaping. Yuri and Kelvin headed them off, gathering them together and telling them they couldn't leave or else more people would be hurt. One recovering vampire grabbed at Mitchell's leg, sending him crashing to the ground, landing on his side as he dragging the man he was supporting with him. This also brought George painfully down to his knees as he reached out to try and slow the descent. Tully appeared from nowhere, dragged the vampire away, driving him back to the ground with a startling severity.
“Go on, get them out.” Tully encouraged as he turned to go. A look passed between the George and his creator as they got to their feet and for a moment, they were almost as one. The moment was broken as Mitchell, newly back on his feet, picked the human male up again and urged George to hurry up.
Tully turned on his heel and resumed helping Zhen in her work of keeping the vampires occupied. However, there were too many for just to two of them and the captors soon were back on their feet. By now most of the captive humans were about half way up the pile sending bricks sliding and skittering in all directions. Annie was at the top, urging them on and helping the first couple of people up and over the crest, seeing the room beyond in a haze of semi-dark she was pointing them toward Michael who was at the bottom on the other side with outstretched arms.
“Are you okay with him?” George asked softly, in the midst of this sudden chaos sounding exactly like the man he'd come to know and, well, to love.
“I'm fine. You get up there and sort out your plan, whatever it is.” Mitchell replied, hefting the human who really wasn't that heavy at all for him a little further up his shoulder. George nodded and took a single backward step before scrambling up the bricks deftly. “You've done that before.” Mitchell murmured to himself, not realising how right he was. He checked on his passenger then made his mad dash up the hill which was definitely harder than it looked.
He made it all the way to the top, and eight feet had never seemed so far before, in one attempt leaving the man beside him breathing heavily. The human was coming back to his senses with the help of all the exertion. He was in time to see all the humans either gathered at the bottom with Michael or else clambering down awkwardly. George was already on the ground and was picking himself up. It seemed clear he'd fallen down the other side but seemed no worse the wear. That was the thing, this close to the transformation he was becoming more hardy by the second. Had he done this earlier in the month he might really have hurt himself. Mitchell descended carefully, slowly and at a sideways angle, pausing and leaning into the slope each time the bricks slid from under his feet. He got both of them safely to the ground but no sooner had he let go of the man he had rescued and made sure he got back to those he had been with than George got hold of his arm.
It was only now George pointed them out that Mitchell realised Crowley and Turner had tagged along. Apparently as reverent as they were toward werewolves, they didn't much fancy being torn to shreds. Crowley headed toward the small door which Mitchell hadn't noticed at first until George darted over, none the worse for his fall, it seemed. “No.” He hissed. “Not that way.”
“Its the only way out.” Crowley retorted edgily.
“No, its not. But you open that door and there are half a dozen of Li's men on the other side. They're armed.” There was an intensity to George's stare and words which had Crowley utterly convinced.
“How can you know that?” One of the men asked from the crowd of humans behind him, a little too loudly for comfort.
George turned. “I just do.” He replied shortly. “Mitchell, I need your help.”
“Sure, what do you need?” Mitchell asked, not seeing a way out worth a d**n other than that door and growing increasingly anxious about it. Surely the moon was nearly arisen, given how George was acting. The werewolf beckoned him over and headed straight for the rusted roller shutter door.
“I couldn't open this on my own before.” He said, standing beside the door frame.
Turner spoke up, having been exceptionally quiet for a long time now. “There's no power to that door, it won't open.” He turned almost apologetically. “ We did that so our guests couldn't escape.”
George let out a frustrated huff of air at the delay. “Then its a good job I'm not using the electrics.” He grumbled. “Mitchell, give me a boost. There's more than one way to get this open.” He pointed up at the tangle of metal chains several feet above his head.
Mitchell moved into place, lacing his fingers together and settling one knee out for George to step up onto before raising his friend up as far as he could. Mitchell has to say, in spite of having lost so much weight, George seemed to be just as heavy as usual, of not moreso. Using every ounce of his vampire strength to keep George steady, he braced his knee against the wall. Up above, he could hear the clanking of the chain and a few choice curse words escaping his friend as he gamely tried to un-knot the means of their escape.
Strangely, he felt it before he heard it. There was almost a thrum of power, like a mild electric shock which ran through him from George. Then came the loud, agonised scream as the first wave of the change hit. In such an enclosed space, the shriek George let out bounced back off the walls and the crack of bones, muscle and gristle momentarily shifting was sickening loud. Above him, George's entire body convulsed and the tenuous balance the two had attained was lost. George twisted somehow as he fell and his knee connected solidly with Mitchell's jaw with enough force to bring them both down.
Mitchell landed hard on his back, reeling from the unintentional blow which would have knocked out anyone other than a vampire. The crack immediately beside his right ear as George hit the concrete shoulder first was deafening, or would have been were it not for a rising wave of accompanying screams and wails of agony from the other room – the change was upon all of them. The fall, however, seemed not to have affected George at all as he curled in on himself. The tidal wave of sound died down and melted into the the low sobbing from some of the humans who were with them. Mitchell blinked hard a number of times, trying to clear his vision while feeling a cold hand on his face. He knew it was Annie even before she spoke. “Mitchell, George. Are you two okay?” Beside him, George let out a low half-squeal, half-growl and was, surprisingly, already trying to get to his feet. “George...” Annie began. He cut her off.
George paused on his knees and touched his fingertips to Mitchell's chest before offering his hand. “I'm sorry... but we have to get the door open now.” He gasped urgently, obviously winded by the accident but seemingly uninjured in any other way. He wasn't looking at the roller shutter door, though. He was staring at the small side door with wide eyes before looking between his friends only to find Annie looking over her shoulder at the door while Mitchell craned his neck in the same direction. There was the sound of a key in the lock, though George seemed to have sensed it quite a few seconds beforehand. Mitchell took George's offered hand and the two helped each other up.
Crowley and Michael had already crossed the space and now both vampire and ghost leaned against the door to hold off those in the corridor outside. There was, however, an upside from George's tumble which was that the chain to manually open the loading bay door was more than three quarters released. It took only a little effort to jump up and get a grip on the edge of the chain, which Mitchell did, roughly shaking it loose.
The siren suddenly wailed into life and amid the near-howls of pain from the werewolves, everyone clamped their hands to their ears as they discovered another speaker within the room, right above their heads. Mitchell let go of the chain, simultaneously trying to defend his hearing and get to George's side as his friend collapsed.
In truth, George was only able to fight it for only a few seconds before he had to drop to the ground in a futile attempt to protect himself. His innards were vibrating so violently with the force of the sound that he was almost in danger of his organs liquefying. He could hear exactly nothing. He knew he was making a noise, he had to be since he knew his mouth was open, but his ears felt hot inside and he couldn't even begin to think straight. He felt someone get hold of him but had no idea who or how or why. His back suddenly buckled and his screaming took on a new ferocity as the change began to get hold of him.
Annie couldn't bear it any longer. She could hear every single cry from the other room as the siren tortured the werewolves. “NO MORE!” She bellowed and spread her arms wide. The speaker above her head exploded into shards of plastic and metal which rained down on the already terrified people below. The shockwave of her power, equivalent to that of a nuclear explosion, rocketing through the electrical systems in the entire building. Light bulbs shattered, wiring burnt out in seconds and the entire warehouse was plunged into darkness in the space of a minute. The siren was silenced, but the screams... the screams just continued.
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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:28:23 GMT
And Then What? Chapter Thirty-Five
Li pushed backwards as the computer in front of him exploded, along with the alarm button and everything else in the room. He picked the glistening shards of glass from his exposed skin, the wounds healing instantly as the glass was removed, and the acrid smell of burning computer parts wafted through his nostrils. The office, the warehouse and the corridor outside fell silent and dark.
“What has that bloody wolf done now?!” He growled, taking up the tranquilliser gun he had retained and twirled a dart topped by a yellow feather between his fingers before inserting it and snapping the gun closed.
Turner didn't know any yellow feathers still existed. He'd prohibited their use over twenty years ago, before he'd thought to contain the beasts in one place. One dose of tranquilliser, the green feather, was enough to put infant and most small Lycos to sleep for several hours, maybe 90 minutes for an adult. A red feathered double dose was to put large lycos to sleep – hazardous to use on smaller specimens. Yellow feathers were the ones used for the ones who were too dangerous to be allowed to continue living. Li smiled slowly and glanced at the darkened window of his office. He could see nothing but the cries told him the animals were shortly going to be out to play. He left his office, no longer only the Master but also once more the hunter.
*****
As George contorted, starting to fill the outsized clothes he wore to their capacity as his new musculature shifted, Mitchell was thrown back against the shutter door which rattled violently and sent down a shower of rust and crap from years gone by down over his head and shoulders. He was surrounded by dozens of tiny pinpoints of pure, white light, peeking through the rust holes in the metal slats of the door which lent the falling debris from above a shimmery effect. Yet he had no time to admire the strange beauty of the scene. He could feel something inside him, the odd sensation of everything moving and shifting though it very clearly wasn't. That was poor George's domain. In the nearly absolute dark of the warehouse, Mitchell could see George desperately trying to fight the change but lacking the energy or senses to do so effectively.
Aside from Mitchell, Crowley and Turner were the only ones able to see in the pitch black warehouse which echoed with the rising, agonised cries of those transforming, a nauseating crackling which sounded for all the world like a fire ripping through brittle bracken and the terrified wails of those who did not and may never understand. Mitchell figured there was, perhaps, thirty seconds to a minute left before the first of the werewolves was fully transformed. Ignoring both his unusual internal sensations and the bright fire in his back from the second impact in five minutes, Mitchell staggered over to the dangling chain and began pulling on it with all his might.
For a heartstopping moment he thought it wasn't going to move, that maybe it was rusted shut or maybe George had been wrong and the chain wasn't attached at all. Then a second pair of hands grasped the chain above his own and with two pulling, the door screeched reluctantly into motion. Mitchell had to say he was grateful for Turner's timely assistance as the door rose from the floor an inch at a time, spreading that pale, bright moonlight across the filthy, dust-laden floor. When it reached the height of about a foot off the ground, he saw the first of the people begin to scurry out underneath, no doubt urged on by Annie.
The werewolves' vocalisations seemed to double up as the screeches of their wolven sides began to mingle with the human in an unearthly chorus. The first of these cries emanated from deep within the warehouse and headed out in a ripple. George was one of the last to hit this phase. He had obviously been fighting it for as long as he was physically able to but now the lyco within had dominion and there was little now he could do to stop it. Mitchell's arms began to tremble – it wasn't that the door was too heavy for him. It was more to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten or fed for days and the passing stream of fresh, rich, flowing blood was tempting him beyond reason. He cursed his weakness and pulled harder at the chain in annoyance.
A low, deep-throated grumble arose nearby, indicating that George was now no longer himself. In a fit of determined self-preservation, Turner let go of the chain and darted under the door. His dereliction was so startling the the door fell, Mitchell's queasy arms no longer able to take the strain. The room was plunged once more into darkness as the werewolf towered above and let out a long, loud, triumphant howl. With no escape, the sound was louder than Mitchell had ever heard it before. The howl ululated and was joined by other Lyco voices, each one a slightly different pitch and tone yet all harmonising into a melody strangely evocative of an ancient, less cluttered and dangerous time. Mitchell frowned and cleared the thought from his mind that he might actually have been seduced by Turner's tale of the history of the werewolves. He was sure his senses were sharpening up again. He'd been feeling a little dull, muddy-minded until just now.
It was then that the door to the corridor was finally thrust open and a handful of vampires charged in as Crowley and Michael stumbled aside. The poor b*st*rds never stood a chance. Despite Mitchell being nearest, George bypassed him, diving straight into the middle of a group of far more active prey with abandon, perhaps still disorientated and enraged by the effect the alarm had had on him. One of the vampires at the periphery of the group had the presence of mind to take aim with their tranquillisers but never got his chance to fire a dart as Michael got behind him and drove him forward just as the angry werewolf lunged at one of his fellows. The gaping maw, meaning to bite one nearby, caught him around the head and the great jaws closed reflexively. Like a fox in a henhouse, George was snapping and biting at anything that dared to move within his reach, teeth and claws rending the numerous forms around him. Above these wet, visceral sounds came cries and shouts from the vampires who had been in the other room. There were muted sounds which Mitchell, wisely standing still with his back against the wall, could only think belonged to the discharging of weapons. In there, it seemed the vampires had some kind of an advantage.
The vampires in here, however, had fallen silent, almost all because their limbs and organs were now scattered the length and breadth of the room. The nebulisation of the dead had not occurred yet. Mitchell shifted slightly, grabbing at the wildly swinging chain which was set in motion when the door dropped. It rapped his knuckles once or twice before he could stop it and his hiss of pain brought him to the attention of the savage beast in the middle of the room. Mitchell realised his mistake immediately and his head snapped up, eyes wide. In the darkness, the normally golden orbs glowed silver with eyeshine, drawing light from an unknown source, and glared right at him. The growl began low in George's chest, rising savagely as he raced forward. Mitchell swung the chain out to distract his best friend and made a mad dash for the pile of bricks, cognizant of the fact he was very likely diving out of the frying pan directly into the fire but taking the only route open to him. At this point in time, he and George were the deadliest of enemies. The chain didn't get anywhere near the charging Lyco as he adjusted his pursuit and zeroed in on his prey. Mitchell only just got to the brick pile when a paw side swiped him onto his back. His leather jacket was torn but the glancing blow from the claws had not reached flesh. This time.
George landed seconds later, planting both forepaws at either side of Mitchell's head. His eyes grew wider as the slavering mouth opened above him. “George, please.” He whispered, knowing no amount of pleading could stop him. A crushing pressure on his belly told him George was also standing on him now, holding him in place, and he closed his eyes. Now that it came to it, he couldn't bear to see his second death coming. He didn't feel as courageous as Lauren had been in welcoming his fate. In truth, he'd found a reason to live a better life and the thought of being removed from it now saddened and terrified him.
Fetid breath wafted into his face as George breathed in and out deeply. Hot saliva dripped unpleasantly onto his upper chest. He knew those large, lethal teeth were only inches from his exposed throat though holding off from the killing blow at present. Amid his fear, he still found himself hoping against hope that George's consciousness had long since departed so he would not have to bear helpless witness to what came next. “If you're in there, mate, you're not to blame for this, okay?” He whispered, eyes still tightly closed.
*****
Annie was frozen. One of the two people she loved most in the world was about to die – again – at the hands of the other and she could do nothing without doing harm either. Michael was close by, unsure of anything he could do to help.
Crowley, scratched but not dead, crouched beside the door, leaning against the wall. Blood flowed over his hands as he cradled his shredded side. Paler than death, he looked down at the remains of the vampires at his feet then over at the scene unfolding on the other side of the room before noticing the other dead people. “You there, ghost.” Crowley whispered. Both Annie and Michael looked over. “You won't be able to hurt George. While he's like that, he's almost invulnerable.” He said, staring squarely at Annie. “Save your friend.” He urged breathily, barely audible over the growls and snarls which carried from all areas of the warehouse.
Annie pressed her lips together hard, determined, but her gaze softened for a moment. “Michael, will you look after him, please?” She said, indicating Crowley who had begun to slide to the floor weakly. She stepped forward, tiptoeing gingerly among the corpses. Levitating a single brick while doing this required no effort at all and she flung it unerringly hard at George's furry back. The wolf grumbled at the initial impact and turned, peering over his befurred shoulder looking for his attacker while resting one large, vaguely humanoid paw on Mitchell's chest heavily. Mitchell opened one eye cautiously. Never before had he been so pleased not to have to breathe. Annie continued the assault, throwing single bricks, one after another in his direction, doing her best not to let any hit the prone vampire beneath. George was growling more agitatedly as she got adventurous and took a couple of bricks at a time with her poltergeist powers, hitting George along his flanks and hind quarters. In fact, she felt more in control and more powerful than she ever had before.
George began to back away from Mitchell who, quite wisely, remained still. Annie knew she shouldn't be holding back as she was but what if that vampire guy was wrong and she did hurt George instead of simply distracting him? She'd never forgive herself.
Careful not to move too quickly, Mitchell sat up slightly to prop himself up on his elbows and looked around. George's silvered gaze swept over him disinterestedly before sharply focussing on Annie, standing there, prone, in the middle of the room having now stopped her assault. The werewolf snorted and snuffled, grumbling and growling expressively before swivelling back and forth and suddenly charging at her.
Annie jigged sideways as the werewolf came near, trampling the dead beneath his paws. She was so close as he turned, their eyes met looked right at her. It disheartened her to see that there was nothing of the man she knew behind that gaze and almost immediately George lunged, more angered than she had ever thought a werewolf could be. Annie disappeared, reappearing several feet away and evaporating once more only seconds before the jaws snapped closed where she was. It was eerily reminiscent of Nina's attack the previous month and this shook her confidence.
“Move! You're confusing him!” The hurt vampire from the back of the room called out. “He can see you but can't smell you and it... that drives them crazy. Its why werewolves hate ghosts.”
Annie was busily jumping here and there, keeping George occupied as best she could as he twisted around, snapping and snarling. So far she had managed to stay a step ahead of her bewildered friend but he was growing closer to her, perhaps pre-empting her moves now as she only had a limited space in which to evade him. But could he really hurt her? Around Mitchell and George, moreso than other supernaturals, she had solid form. Could George actually harm her when he was like this? She really didn't want to find out.
Suddenly, the first of the dead vampires erupted into a beautiful, glittery dust which floated and swirled upwards, flowing through Annie instead of around. That was joined by more and more until the floor was strewn with discarded clothes and the air sparkled. Annie remembered something from a couple of months ago and it gave her an idea. She concentrated hard on controlling some of the dust and swept it toward her presently furry friend. George shook, small handfuls of fur falling loose as he did so and, upon breathing in the remains of dead vampires, he sneezed voluminously. George backed up, each reflexive exhalation more copious and forceful than the last, and he pawed at his muzzle as he tried to escape the cause of this irritation.
He once more backed against the loading bay door and though this left room for Mitchell to run past him, already George was recovering from his sneezing fit as the last of the vampires' mortal remains rose upwards, swirling on currents of air. Mitchell decided to take the risk, especially since Crowley and Michael were already beginning to open the smaller door and it wouldn't take long for George to chase off down that way. Mitchell sprinted for their last chance of a way out as hard and fast as his hungry but not yet weakened vampiric muscles would allow. Annie's defence strategy of throwing stones had worked so far so it was one she continued, using more and more of them to drive George back and away, keeping them in the air and adding to their number. One brick hit him hard in the snout and he yelped and mewled. Annie flinched but couldn't afford to lose her concentration. She carried on – but something wasn't right. Too late she realised her mistake.
Mitchell got to the door and turned as the whole pile of bricks collapsed noisily. Annie had been throwing bricks but her choices had made the pile so unstable that gravity could do its work. The detritus spread in a stone-based tidal wave in both directions, filling half of this room and mushrooming out into the warehouse. They knocked both Annie and George over, burying George as Annie lost focus, dropping the levitated blocks on top of the felled werewolf. The flow of masonry levelled out, filling the water trough at one side and revealing the state of affairs in the other room. Mitchell could see that three of the vampires were still mobile and there were a number of large, inanimate forms on the ground. Amid this, one woman stood unchanged. Zhen was near to the rubble and looked shaken and shocked.
Annie, who could just make out the humanoid shape and did not sense vampire, ran toward the woman. She got hold of her by the wrist, pulling her toward the door just as dozens of silvered eyes swivelled and blinked in their direction...
“Christ, Annie! Come on!” Mitchell yelled, not daring to look at the pile where George lay, eyes fixed on the two women hurtling toward him, Annie was stepping through the bricks but Zhen, protesting and trying to get Annie to let go, was stumbling left and right. The ghost let out a squeal, about as unheroic a sound as she could have made, as she looked back to find the first werewolf, a big light grey one, on top of the debris pile. She idly launched a few bricks backwards missing the wolf completely but distracting him for long enough to throw Zhen into Mitchell's arms. She then ran straight through the wall beside the door so as not to attempt passing through anyone.
Mitchell caught Zhen and held her, screeching, fighting and trying to get back into the warehouse, to his chest with one arm while slamming the door shut with his other hand. The mostly grey male impacted with the door with appreciable speed but was too late. Michael and Crowley had snapped open the fire door and both were on the threshold, Michael supporting the hurt vampire awkwardly. “Dis way.” Crowley urged, his brow creasing as he saw Zhen but prudently deciding to save himself before asking how she had been spared. Mitchell half dragged the still protesting unchanged female werewolf out of the door as Annie distracted tried to convince her to calm down. A backward glance told Mitchell that the door would hold for the time being, unless one of the smart Lycos figured out how to open the door inwardly.
The fire door clicked closed behind them and the sounds of enraged werewolves was cut off. Led by Annie, who knew roughly where she was now, they picked their way out of the storage yard and out into the land beyond. Annie took them to the wooded copse nearby and there they stopped to reassess their options.
Perhaps because she understood she was now not getting back in, Zhen stopped fighting and pushed herself away from Mitchell. She didn't attempt to return to the warehouse, instead sitting down and mournfully staring up at the sky. There was no sign of the humans who had fled the scene, nor any trace of Turner that they could see. But no doubt the people who had escaped would bring the police or someone eventually. Mitchell knew this was an almost definite likelihood though he figured it would take a bit of time for them to get to the nearest phone or police station. So for now they were safe and as the random group of survivors and rescuers came together, everyone began to relax, at least for the moment. Crowley was beside Zhen, talking in quiet though not secretive tones. He was, judging by his demeanour, curious about the Chinese woman. Annie stayed in front and nearby while Michael, on Zhen's other side, was sitting, still fascinated by the woman's face.
Sitting himself down slightly apart from the others in the cool, fragrant, leaf-bedecked grass, Mitchell tried to think of ways to stop anyone getting near, at least for tonight.
Annie joined Mitchell. “Hey.” She said, looking rightfully pleased with herself.
“Hey yourself.” Mitchell replied with a wan smile. He was tired, literally starving and troubled. But he didn't Annie to know that. “You did a great job in there. Thanks.”
“Anyone would have done the same.” She came back in that gently self-deprecating way Mitchell both loved and hated about her. “Hey, that guy's a doctor. Did you know that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was mentioned in passing.” Mitchell replied, looking at the warehouse which was shrouded in darkness and looking as decrepit as he'd ever seen a building.
Annie followed where he was looking and then nudged Mitchell companionably. “So what do we do now?”
Mitchell pulled her into a similarly companionable sideways embrace and said the first thing that came to mind. “Wait for sunrise.”
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Post by Melissa Kane on Nov 9, 2012 8:32:39 GMT
Wait For Sunrise (A bridge chapter between "And Then What?" and "But There Was This". Enjoy, folks.)
It took a bit of effort on Mitchell's part but he got a side door open eventually. Kenyon's was still and silent as Zhen moved to the front of the group, a serious look on her face, and entered first. While they had waited, it had been quietly agreed that she go in first. She had not transformed, that was true, but her senses were still keen. She stood blocking the doorway, slowly looking left and right. There were claw marks in the walls and, unnervingly, the ceiling too. To her left was a door, swinging off its hinges and buckled outwards in the centre. She could smell werewolf musk all over it, unmistakably male, and in spite of everything this excited her.
“Its safe.” She said softly, moving aside to let the others in and running her fingers over the destroyed door. “They've changed back.”
“How can you be sure?” Annie whispered nervously, moving closer to Mitchell without realising it.
“I can smell it.” Zhen snapped edgily, tension overspilling. She was worried half to death about her packmates, that much was clear. Crowley , now fully healed, placed an ostensibly comforting hand on her shoulder but she brushed him off as if he were a parasite. “Don't touch me.” She snarled then stalked off ahead, down the corridor and around the corner. The two ghosts and Mitchell headed after her.
Only Crowley stayed where he was. He watched them go, disheartened.
*****
It would have taken Mitchell, Annie and Michael a lot longer to find their way around had it not been for Zhen who unerringly threaded her way through the veritable rabbit warren of interlinked corridors and identical rooms until they arrived at the door through which they escaped last evening. Only now did Zhen hesitate, a flicker of unease flashing across her normally serious features.
“You're certain they've all changed back.” Michael asked as he caught that uncertain look.
Zhen nodded. “I'm sure. But I can smell death. Just not your kind.” Already her impassive mask had dropped back into place. She didn't completely trust the company she was in any more than she had trusted the vampires who had been holding them or the new werewolf who had managed to stir everything up so completely just when such things needed not to have happened.
Mitchell moved on front of the door but hesitated as his hand neared the handle. He'd known death on a intimate level and over a long period of time and he hated when it came for those he was fond of. Pushing the darker turn of his thoughts away for the moment, he closed his fingers around the handle only for Annie to put staying hand on his. His skin, already naturally cold, chilled even more. “Michael and I will have a look first.” Annie let go as she looked over her shoulder. Michael dutifully moved close beside her and the two melted through the wall.
*****
The loading bay area was, in a word, a mess. The rubble had shifted and mounded awkwardly in places. For the more solid members of their party, traversing these obstacles would be tedious. But, it wasn't this which gave Annie shivers. Even with no lighting and the windows conveniently blacked out, she could still make out a couple of large, fur-covered forms. They were still and silent as far as she could tell – or at least no savage growls greeted their arrival. And a couple more bodies were laid out, humanoid and standing out in their nakedness. Maybe werewolves transformed back at different rates, she thought.
Michael looked up toward the ceiling and flicked his fingers. The shattering of glass in the eerie stillness made the unwary Annie jump.
“What the hell are you doing?” She demanded, then saw the thin, smoky shafts of light coming in through the broken windows high along the walls both in here and the main part of the warehouse.
Michael gave a restrained smile. “Shedding some light on the situation.” He replied. “Still got some of my Judgemental powers.” He added, smiling a little wider as he put a finger to his lips and made a shushing sound.
Annie nodded soberly – she'd take delight in his residual powers later but right now, they had to find all the werewolves, one in particular, and get them out before anyone came here. Now there was a dim light to see by, Annie immediately looked over to the shutter door. The bricks there had moved like something had burst out from beneath. This heartened her until she looked around. could tell that the werewolf silhouettes she had seen were probably corpses. One werewolf was laid on his back with his throat torn out and claw marks all over his body. If he weren't dead, he was doing a fine impression of it. Nearby was another werewolf, thick, dark fur matted with blood, especially on the claws and face. The snout was drawn back from the teeth in a horrid death-snarl. There was no movement of the large form and Annie felt certain he too was dead. Neither of these looked like George did in his wolf form but she couldn't quieten the doubts that swirled in her head that she was remembering his wolf form incorrectly. Looking out further into the warehouse, she could see no other werewolves in animal form, only people laid here and there all over. “Crowley told us there were eleven werewolves last night. I only see eight.” She commented as much to herself as to Michael, looking lost and worried.
“Maybe the other ones are around the corner.” Michael replied gently, noticing her reaction and fighting his need to reassure her. He didn't know what her friend looked like but he checked on the two human forms nearby. Already he could sense they were alive, he could see the faintest stirring of that creature beneath every bit of their exposed skin. One of these was a woman. As gently as he was able to, he moved her to a different position so as to hide her modesty. “I'll be back in a minute.” He said softly, looking toward Annie who was heading back toward the door to let the others in. She nodded and he disappeared.
Mitchell and Zhen came in together, with Crowley who had rejoined the group at some point, moving along behind slowly. “Are you okay? We heard glass breaking.” Mitchell fussed, touching Annie's shoulder unconsciously.
Annie, however, was fully conscious of this act and cast a fond glance at him. “Yes, its alright. Michael was just letting some light in. Not too much. Enough to see by though.” Annie stopped talking as Zhen passed around her slowly, eyes riveted on the scene before them. Mitchell kept his hand on Annie's shoulder but found himself looking where the werewolf looked.
“Shouldn't they have changed back by now?” Mitchell asked.
Crowley cast a sympathetic glance at Zhen. “Whatever form they die in, they stay in.” He informed them, stepping carefully and quickly over the uneven ground and stopping beside the first of the bodies, the one with its throat torn out. He didn't hesitate to begin touching the dull, lifeless fur and feeling beneath. He closed his eyes. “This is Paul. It was his first time.” The vampire said, trying to make himself sound clinical and detached but not quite succeeding in quelling the tremor in his voice. He moved along to the furred corpse that was curled forward with its muzzle buried in the bricks. He repeated his action of touching the body, feeling under the fur. He let out a slow breath.
“Kel...?” Zhen was walking forward, the fingers of one hand outstretched while her other arm encircled her stomach. “Is, is it....? Is he...?” She didn't have to finish her sentence. Crowley nodded quickly, head bowed as he kept on searching. He put a hand behind the dead lyco's neck and rolled him effortlessly onto his back. A dart tipped with a tiny yellow feather protruded from his stomach. This Crowley removed and stood suddenly. His obvious grief over the deaths switched instantly to anger.
“I'll kill 'im.” He snarled, eyes turning black as he turned to survey the room. “Where are you?! I'll murder ya where you stand you coward!!” He shouted, setting off to search the warehouse. Michael rounded the corner at this instant and stopped, taking a small back step as the vampire rushed past. He glanced back then turned with a questioning glance at Mitchell and Annie who shrugged but seemed concerned. Zhen tottered forward a couple of steps then fell painfully to her knees before burying her face and hands in the dense chest fur of the dead werewolf. She was sobbing but in a strangely silent and controlled way.
Annie made a move to go and comfort the grieving woman but Mitchell stopped her. “She needs to get it out of her system. And we've got things to do.” He was, of course, referring to their urgent need to get everyone out and make this place look like the tumbledown, deserted warehouse it was meant to be. They headed into the main body of the building as Michael met them, a large bundle of clothes in his hands.
“There's one more in the cloakroom. Dunno if its that George fella but I covered him up a bit. And, um, sounds like Crowley's a bit busy in there.” Michael informed them helpfully as he carried on by to kneel beside the nearest sleeping werewolf, a man with large scars and crude tattoos all over him. Mitchell and Annie hurried to the clothing room to find Crowley pinning Li to the wall.
“I warned you! F*cking heathen! You've never respected them. Never! And now look what you've done.” Crowley snarled, eyes black and fangs unsheathed.
Li looked like he'd already been through the mill and was covered in blood though the wounds it had come from were already long since healed and gone. He too was completely “vamped” out and was fighting back. “I caused none of this. If that one hadn't screwed everything up we'd have had more werewolves than ever last night.” He pointed past Crowley with the one hand that wasn't currently trying to claw his way free.
Mitchell followed the accusing finger and just found the half-concealed form of another werewolf. He sat beside George – it was unmistakably him, still heavily bearded, beneath the torn coat – and frowned. He moved the trenchcoat aside a little and kept on staring. “Mitchell?” Annie enquired, glancing back as Crowley took his anger out on Li and punched him into unconsciousness.
It was dim inside the room but Annie watched Mitchell hold his hand on front of George's face. He held it there for more than a minute. “What's wrong with him? He's hardly breathing.” Crowley came to Mitchell's side and ushered him out of the way. The vampire doctor pressed his fingers to George's throat for a moment, leaned over and opened his eyes one by one, and breathed deeply before putting a hand on the werewolf's now exposed chest. After this, Crowley pulled the coat back over the inert form before him and stood up. “He's had a pretty big dose of silver so he'll be out of it for a while. I'd reckon another 15 hours or so and he'll probably feel like total sh*t when he wakes up but he'll probably be okay.” A hint of relief accompanied his rather clinical assessment which Mitchell felt he could trust. Maybe Crowley really did care what happened to them after all. It was just the inclusion of the word probably that kept his concern active.
“We need to get the keys for the door.” Crowley said, moving to the roughly hewn clothing room entrance and pointing at the cold room door. “I checked the garage, there are two ambulances in there now with keys in 'em. A couple of sleeping werewolves too. The ambulances are dented and battered but not badly damaged. They'll drive. We can get 'em all in the back and drive 'em somewhere safe. Oh, and uh, I think these are yours. Found 'em in Li's office.” Crowley held out a familiar keyring and dropped it into Mitchell's outstretched hand.
Mitchell and Annie emerged from the clothing room to find that Michael, bless his dead heart, had put clothes on top of each of the werewolves, covering them up. He hadn't dressed them but at least he was trying. Annie joined Michael and the two began properly dressing the werewolves as they slept while Mitchell tested the cold room door. It was unlocked which saved time in the long run and as Mitchell cautiously opened it, he found it to be thankfully unmanned too. He left the door open and went to find Crowley who was no longer in the clothing room. George lay still and despite what Crowley had said, his far too slow rate of breathing was unnerving.
Mitchell found Crowley around the corner, talking to Zhen who was still cuddling protectively against Kelvin's corpse. He was tying to persuade her to leave with them but she appeared to have it in mind that she was going to remain here if they wouldn't take the body with them. Mitchell stepped in, crouching in front of her as she looked up, clutching a handful of fur in one hand.
“Zhen, I know how you feel. I know what its like to lose someone you love.” Mitchell paused, composing himself. Crowley, standing nearby, noticed a change in Zhen's expression. “We'll... give him a decent burial. You can choose where – and when. But right now we have to make sure the people still left living are safe. And safe just isn't here.” Zhen's dark eyes watched him keenly as he spoke before nodding slowly. She let go of the clump of fur in her hand and gave Crowley a suspicious sideways look before ignoring Mitchell's offered hand and standing by herself. She sniffed and wiped her eyes harshly, trying to hide the tears that the two men had already seen.
“How?” She demanded. Mitchell licked his lips and outlined the idea.
“I'll get these. You get them.” Crowley added, breaking the moment, and indicating the people on the ground. Mitchell led the way, Zhen following with Crowley bringing up the rear.
*****
It took more than half an hour, with all five of them working together to carry the unconscious werewolves through the four sets of doors to the other, larger loading bay and arrange them in the two ambulances. The werewolves were top to tail – a position Mitchell regarded with undisguised amusement at first. To the latter stages, however, to say it was quite a squeeze was an understatement. Finally it came to loading Tully and the woman Annie identified as Anneka. They came around the corner and Annie gasped loudly. There was Li, on his knees with his fangs buried in the neck of one of the dead werewolves. Though it wasn't Kelvin, Zhen shrieked and Mitchell descended on him, dragging Li away while hurling a torrent of verbal abuse.
“So this is what you and the others wanted them for?” He growled, wondering if any of them had fed from George. This made him angrier and he threw Li to the ground before sending a look of hatred toward Crowley.
Mitchell expected defiance or some kind of physical retaliation and he wasn't disappointed as Li swung a kick at Mitchell's knees. However, Crowley stepped in first, got hold of Li's ankle with preternatural speed and twisted hard before letting go. Li screamed and clutched his broken leg.
“Why feed from them in wolf form? They taste bad enough like this.” Mitchell asked, indicating the sleeping Tully behind him and curling his lip at the memory of the sickeningly bitter flavour George's splash of blood had held. Mitchell's features smoothed out suddenly as he realised just why. “Is it because of the...?”
Crowley was looking down at the corpse at his feet, in tears now with his hands spread apologetically. When he spoke, he sounded like a man in rapture, in a deep and unquenchable religious fervour. “You know, don't you? You tasted it, it gave you the feeling of life. Of being alive again. And I bet it felt good, didn't it? To not feel the sun as an enemy. To not see the people around you as breakfast. To feel human again.” Mitchell remembered the feeling and how he had liked the warmth of his body for those too-few hours. He had begun to like the whole sensation of being alive until his body died once more and he momentarily faced the the so-named Judges. But he also remembered Crowley's overly-reverent tone from his strict religious childhood all those years ago and this quelled the pleasure of the earlier part of the recollection. “That was the blood of a werewolf... but when they are in a pure form, or at least they're less tainted than this when they become the Lycos they are meant to be... Oh Mitchell. The blood. The blood. It lets you keep your vampiric strength and stamina but to not have to eat, not to have to feed nor fight the killing urges. It has the power of the ancients. It has the life of the world inside.”
“You're insane.” Mitchell growled, unwilling to hear any more, especially on an empty stomach. Michael, Zhen and Annie all looked bemused – they understood the words but not the force behind them.
“No. Not insane. Which is the worse? To allow the werewolves to live and only take a little back from them when they are unknowing or... your kind's approach and slaughter them mercilessly.”
“But that's just... sick.” Annie protested.
“We never kill them, girl. They live their days in safety and relative peace. I admit, your friend pointed out to us our mistakes. I can improve that now. If you'll let me help?” This last was directed at Zhen who was looking at him strangely.
She looked then at the others. “I think he and I need to talk. Alone.” She said, waving Mitchell's offer to stay and make sure she was safe away. She and Crowley retired to the other side of the room.
While Michael and Annie between them manhandled Tully and Anneka out to the ambulances, Mitchell dealt with Li by throwing him out of the doors he just opened. He stood guard. Li stumbled forward, limping heavily on his broken leg. This should have touched Mitchell and made him sympathetic but he couldn't bring himself to feel sympathy for the man, not after what he tried to do. Li almost looked like he was going to fight back when Mitchell stooped and picked up a crowbar from the box by the door. “You keep walking away or I'll do more to you than Crowley did. And you know I can.” Mitchell allowed himself a chilling smile. Maybe it would be nice to open up that part of him again, just this once. The crowbar was, in essence, a very ineffective weapon but the injured Li was wary nonetheless. He left shortly after.
“What do we do with them?” Annie asked quietly as they re-entered the warehouse once more. “Where can we take them so they'll be safe?”
I don't know.” Mitchell admitted – he hadn't thought that far ahead and time was growing short.
“We do.” Crowley had cleaned his face and looked what would be akin to normal now. His evangelical moment had passed. “Turner has a place, down Devon way on. We can keep them safe.”
“So you can feed from them? No way, there has to be another option.” Mitchell paced. “We just have to find it.” Annie agreed whole-heartedly.
Zhen looked between them all for a moment. “Devon is a good idea.” She stated. Her initial reaction had given way to more level headed contemplation. “We need somewhere safe. But there will be changes.” Crowley was nodding agreement even as she mentioned changes. “We get decent living conditions, medical care, lives where we can come and go as we please.” She wagged a finger in Crowley's face.
“I swear on the life of that little baby of yours that I'll do whatever it takes to make a good place for you and your kind.” Crowley said.
“Baby?” Annie asked, surprised and excited, looking closer at Zhen now.
Zhen self-consciously touched her still flat belly. “I'm only a few weeks gone. I smelled it on myself just before the moon.” Her smile was tinged with sadness. “Its ours, Kelvin's and mine.” Annie pressed her lips together but said nothing. “Cathal?” Zhen extended her hand and the vampire rooted in his pockets until he produced a lighter.
Mitchell watched the exchange, his hands in his pockets as they were rowing cold without his gloves – the ones George had removed at some point but Mitchell didn't know when. “What's that for?”
Zhen turned her dark eyes to him. “You said I could bury Kelvin how and where I wanted.” She took a slow, shaky breath. “But I think he'd want to be cremated.”
*****
Mitchell held George to his chest, the werewolf's head resting against his shoulder. His friend's limbs were limp and his skin cool even through the clothes he was now wrapped in. Annie adjusted George's folded arms tenderly, her fingers lingering in mute concern near the bite mark on his forearm, but Mitchell still had an elbow poking him uncomfortably in the midsection. But that wasn't something he would complain about, not after everything.
Before them, the warehouse was crackling nicely, flames lighting up the darkened interior. A short time ago, Mitchell had heard the ambulances pull away, Zhen driving one while Crowley led the way by driving the other. Since then, they'd stood near their car and watched the place burn.
Michael had enthusiastically waved the others off then rejoined Annie, George and Mitchell. He seemed uncomfortable with the fire blazing in front of them and so, instead, peered at sleeping werewolf in Mitchell's arms. “Nina'll be happy.” He commented, trying to stop himself staring by regarding Annie instead. “Hey, you'd better get home. I'll make sure this finishes up.” He said, almost reluctantly looking back at the fire.
“Are you sure?” Annie asked. She could see Mitchell growing tired – he'd hardly slept last night and was obviously hungry.
“Yeah. I think you and your friends need to rest and get better after all this.”
Annie smiled warmly and put a hand on Michael's shoulder. “You're a good man.” She said and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. “Come on you two.” She said to her friends.
“Yeah, hear that, George. We're going home.” Maybe it was just the way Mitchell moved as they headed for the car but he thought he felt his friend sigh.
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