New Divide

Chapter 4

"Turn left at the next opening," I directed. Tomas father; Pedro, said nothing. 2 days on the road with him had taught me that he spoke through the medium of silence, and that which could not be translated in his preferred mode of communication meant he actually had to speak. Tomas was unreasonably talkative in comparison.

I'd been promoted to shotgun map-reader yesterday, father and son rotated who drove every 6hrs or so. The sun blossomed over the horizon, the sky bathed in washes of oranges, pinks and purples. From the vantage point of the cliff, which the truck was driving on, I was able to look down on the beauty of Colorado for the first time. Golds, burnt oranges and sour greens blurred into one another as we drove over the thicket. Glittering pools of water shimmered and everything glowed under the light of the rising sun.

The sun had already settled into the sky when Pedro pulled up at a ranch house. It was quaint, fairly large in size with chipped white paint and half a dozen vehicles parked in the front. Pedro parked and got out of the truck, Tomas and I followed suite.

"As soon as we get in there you're taking a shower. No offence Lolo but you don't smell as pretty as you look." Tomas joked, playfully elbowing me. It was hard to take offence when he was right. Tomas had lent me his clothes and after piercing new holes in his belt with a Swiss army knife and tapering his flannel shirt with some pins, the results were ill-fitting clothes on an unwashed girl. I pulled away from his touch.

"Why won't you tell me where here is?" I ask sharply, glaring at him, much to his amusement. Tomas and Pedro wouldn't tell me anything the whole way here, aside from their names the two men had shared no personal information with me. This had the added benefit of them asking me nothing in return. For which I was grateful, I had yet to conjure up a convincing, very human backstory for myself.

As we got closer, the somber tones of Jazz Blues coming from inside of the ranch house got louder. Tomas glanced at his father, who'd already knocked on the door of the house and was speaking in hushed whispers to a man with ruddy skin, jowls that jiggled every time he spoke and in his hands a shotgun that he pointed at Tomas.

I lunged forward, my body slipping into a crouched fighting stance before I could blink; I was pulled into Tomas chest right as the man at the threshold of the door put down his gun and welcomed Pedro with open arms. A sigh of relief whooshed out of my mouth. Pedro composed himself and proceeded to enter the house. I shook myself out of Tomas' hold and rounded on him,

"What the Hell was that?" I scream, pointing at the door of the house. For the first time, in the short time that I'd gotten to know him, Tomas had nothing to say. He stared at me with a sullen expression before stepping towards the house.

"This is the way life is now, the sooner you get used to it...the better off you'll be." He says, his voice void of the effortless joy he always had. He walked slowly towards the ranch house; the same man appeared from the dark depths of the building and gave Tomas the same treatment he'd given his father. A gun pointed at his head as they spoke in harsh whispers, before embracing him and stepping aside to let him into the house. Tomas turned his eyes to look at me before being swallowed into the darkness of the house. I found myself unconsciously stepping forward as if to stop him.

I don't know anything of this world aside from the knowledge that L.I.V.E Corp. had force-fed my brain, the experiences and information from the previous engineered generations of myself created and re-created, made to forget my hand in the massacre of Werewolf pack after Werewolf pack; Heck, I don't even know what I look like! But the little I do know of this world, is that I cared, a lot what happened to Pedro and Tomas, they were the closest I would get to what I imagine a family is.

I thought only of this as I marched toward the ranch house, my chin tilted in defiance. I didn't stop walking until the man's shotgun was pressed uncomfortably on my chest, right over where my heart would be. We stared at each other for the longest time; I was the first to break the silence,

"Let me in."

He pushed me backwards with the barrel of his gun, his eyes trained on me.

"Why?" he asked, his voice gravelly, his tone challenging.

"I'm with Tomas and Pedro." I answer.

"What are ya?" he asked, twisting the gun into me.

"She's human Ramsey, I already checked. Do you think I'd be riding around with She wolf for almost 4 days and not know it? Leave her be." Came a voice from behind him. Pedro's tan hand was pressed into Ramsey's meaty shoulder.

"I wanted to put a bit of scare in her is all, God knows you lot aren't afraid of me" Ramsey huffed, shrugging off Pedro's hand. I didn't miss the black look he gave Pedro, it was gone in the blink of an eye and replaced with a grin in my directions.

"Welcome to Man Kind inn, Safe House to the Werewolf Hunter." He said jollily.

He took me in his arms, squeezing me rougher than was necessary.

"Hope you enjoy your stay" he whispered darkly into my ear. Before pushing me away, his expression all smiles under the watchful eye of Pedro.

--

In the heart of Man Kind inn was a bar, a skinny woman with a shaven head, manned the bar. Her clothes were loose, and all black, every bit of exposed flesh on her body was covered in raised scars and she wore a leather spike-studded patch over one eye. The bar was teeming with men and a few women; a word I would use to collectively describe them is dangerous. They carried themselves as though they were ready to fight at a moments notice and even amongst themselves they eyed each other suspiciously; not one person there didn't have some kind of weapon strapped to them. The large stuffed head of a grey wolf was mounted on the wall, and underneath nearly one hundred photographs of eclectic individuals, human beings.

Tomas ran up to meet me when he saw me enter the room. We stood in silence, at the edge of the room, both of us staring at the mounted head in the far back.

"So now you know," he stated.

"I should have guessed. When you found me, you didn't kill the coyote because it was going to kill me. You killed it because it was dark outside and you thought it was a werewolf. Simple mistake. I'm the idiot for not knowing sooner." I say emotionlessly.

"When did you plan on telling me that you were a hunter?" I challenge, turning to face him.

"You are killing people Tomas, pretending that they are just animals doesn't change that." I whisper harshly, this room filled with Werewolf hunters, was no place for this kind of conversation. In truth I was speaking more to myself than him, when I had been sent to kill all those packs, I'd told myself they were just animals. It made them easier to kill.

He rounded on me his brilliant green eyes ablaze with anger,

"They took my sister!"

I looked around the room, "It seems that killing them hasn't brought her back." I retort.

I heard the slap before the burning pain registered on my cheek. I cradled my face in my hands, looking at him with accusing eyes and embarrassingly tears spilled over my cheeks. The silence that enveloped the room told me that everyone was watching.

"You know nothing!" he shouted in Spanish, his voice dripping with uncontrolled anger.

It only took a moment for him to stare wide-eyed at me, his expression full of guilt. He stepped towards me; I stepped back, receding into the dark corridors of Man Kind inn.

"Lolo—" he says his voice pleading.

I turn my back to him before saying,

"I guess I'll go take that shower now. And I told you before, my name is Katie; the sooner you get used to saying it the better off you'll be." I managed to charge up the stairs of the house before crumpling on the landing to cry noiselessly.