ONC 2022 shortlisted: The Emergence of a more virulent lycanthrope virus decimated civilisation. As a street scavenger, Gulliver Chase risks his life in his home city's derelict streets hunting for resources for his fellow survivors. But it isn't fo...
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Gull cast the half-dressed 'woman' sauntering beside him a sidelong glance. Dawn was struggling to break beyond fading rain clouds, dropping the threat level in Bell Harbour's overgrown streets from 'near certain death' to merely dangerous. Werewolves preferred to hunt at night, but that didn't mean a person couldn't stumble on one while out foraging up breakfast.
He scanned the buildings either side of him: doorways, graffitied alleyways, and roofs. Abandoned cars were few. This close to the Colony, streets were kept as clear as possible. The settlement's guards needed a clear line of sight on anyone approaching.
A clear shot.
Gull looked over the water-stained plaster that'd once been 'Alvin–Murdock Law'. Beyond, Bell Harbour's Mercy Hospital rose, its pale concrete and glass cluttered with jury-rigged wind turbines, solar panels, and rain collection units. At either end of the main building, scaffolding reinforced with corrugated iron climbed into the dawn sky: Colony watchtowers.
That second, he and Zera would have at least one long-range rifle zeroed in on them.
He kept his hands easy at his sides, fingers loose. Part of him wanted to curl them into fists, especially the one in the shadow of the woman walking next to him. Close his right hand for thirty seconds and the dilemma gnawing his insides would vanish in a hail of skull fragments.
He cast Zera another sidelong glance. The guards would see nothing more than a half-naked woman with ratty hair and toned, bare legs—a stray coming in from the wilds. But he knew the truth, and taking a wolf to 'the farm' seemed like a shit idea.
His right hand twitched.
"Stop staring," Zera ordered, not bothering to turn and look at him. "You're being weird."
"I'm the one being weird?"
"Yes. You keep giving me the squint eye, and it's starting to piss me off."
Gull returned his gaze to the settlement ahead. "How many more times do I need to do it until you hit homicidal rage?" If she got violent, exposed what she was—dilemma solved.
She swung about, nailed him with a look. "One."
Gull sighed and continued to scan the street for trouble. "I'm not okay with this."
"You drug a woman, there are consequences. Suck it the fuck up."
"I drugged a bloodthirsty, virus-mutated dog, not a woman."
"Hmm." Zera considered that, before meeting his gaze. "Must seriously weird you out that you like the look of my flea-bit tits in this shirt."
Gull recoiled. "I do not."
"Red, I'm remembering a lot of things, one of them being that redheads can't hide a blush."
"Do you remember whether you were a serious pain in the arse before the Change, or is that a bitchy hangover from being turned into a mutt?"
