Sheep in Wolves' Clothing

Chapter 5

   Dense foliage struck his muzzle as he sped through an unfamiliar forest. Streams of silvery moonlight guided Kona's paws, beckoning him with a soundless voice. He obeyed with a loyalty unrealized. The night air cooled his exhausted flesh, easing the fatigue that built in his muscles. Kona pursued, unrelenting.
    Night turned to day, day to night; time flowing by in a blur of earthen hues until they flashed to concrete and blacktop, illuminated by street lights and neon signs harboring gibberish. Unwavering, Kona chased the moon as though it were his sole desire. His peripheral vision detected movement from other beings: fauna with equitable interest. Twisting, turning, searching, and running as an army with one, synchronized thought:
    "Find her."
    
    Kona awoke to a familiar dim room. Single cots lined the walls, some occupied by other Nisus members who had the misfortune of being shot by silver bullets; though, they hadn't proved fatal. The sterile PVC walls that made up the infirmary were a typical white. Cheap, plastic drawers were tucked neatly against their own respected wall, loomed over by simple hanging cabinets. Across from Kona was a doorway that led to the infirmary's toilets and showers. His lower abdomen ached with an awakening pressure.
    As soon as Kona stirred to sit up, his chest protested with a sharp pain. Something softly began to beep from a small machine next to him, mounted on a rolling cart. Kona noticed the clamp on his index finger, and recalled Bran explaining its purpose as a heart monitor. The trouble was that Kona couldn't remember why he was here in the first place.
    Swift footsteps padded from the infirmary's entryway to Kona's far left. He turned his head in time to see a much older blue-eyed man with short and salted, burnt auburn hair, and leathery skin that appeared to be tan from the illusion created by his numerous freckles. The man walked into the room with purpose as he centered his sights on his white-haired patient. "Bran," Kona's voice meekly uttered, as he had yet to find his strength, "why the fuck am I here?"
    Others in their cots began to stir at the sounds of Kona's voice. Either they had witnessed or heard of the Captain's manic episode, and both forms of the knowledge had instilled quite the shock. They watched in silent aw as Bran helped Kona to sit upright without stressing his damaged heart further. The older man explained that he wasn't present for the event, having been at a medical seminar, but had been debriefed. Bran summarized what had happened - what Meady and Mizou relayed to the head doctor upon his return to base. "You've been dead for two days," he said. "Your heart needs more rest, so don't expect any field work for a few weeks."
    With each new word of Bran's explanation, Kona's memories came flooding back - most of them. He couldn't remember attacking Mizou, but he did recount when he hit his entire eight-ball. A curse to his hindsight slipped from Kona's lips. "A few weeks, huh? Not sure I can sit around for that long, doc." He moved to climb out of the cot, mumbling how he needed to piss like a racehorse. Bran helped him along the way, removing the heart monitor camp, as Kona shuffled across the smooth, linoleum floor. This was the first time Kona had ever felt so weak, so helpless, after an injury. His muscles felt stiff, and his heart ached with each slow beat. Kona joked to Bran that this must be what it's like to get old, to which Bran chuckled.
    "That's what I hear it's like," Bran smirked. If it wasn't for his lycanthropy, he would most likely still be feeling the symptoms of age as he once had during his years as a human. Such a memory was distant, diluted by time like a vague dream he could only remember by its murmur of sensation.
    The two approached the nearest communal toilet. Bran held up Kona, allowing the younger male to relieve himself at his own volition. They remained silent by the unspoken rule that most people acknowledged, continuing their conversation once Kona had washed his hands.
    "Did I miss the retreat?" Kona asked, grunting with a pained wince as he lowered back onto his cot.
    "You will, if that's what you're wondering," Bran began listening to Kona's heart with his stethoscope. "I want you bedridden for one week with minimal exertion. After that, you can do basic tasks for another two weeks, then -"
    "Fuck, are you serious?" Kona exclaimed, dreading the idea of being stuck in the base for so long. "All of our other wounds heal fine, why's my heart so different?" He had been severely injured innumerable times, but an exploded heart was a first for Kona. Lounging around the base for more than a couple days was foreign to him.
    "Because it's the muscle that keeps you alive; it never stops," Bran sighed. He hated when Kona protested over medical instruction, and especially after Bran had warned the kid that the excess cocaine usage would catch up to him - he just didn't imagine it would happen this way. "Exerting a damaged heart is the same as exerting any other injury, but it can nevery truly rest. Your heart ruptured and sealed shut in a short time only because it was motionless while you were medically dead."
    Rolling his eyes, Kona reclined against his pillow, his parched voice cracking, "You're the doctor." He relented to Bran's sound reasoning, mostly due to the new disturbance in his abdomen. "Can I get some food, at least? I'm fucking starving."
    "First, are you feeling any withdrawal effects?" When Kona declined, after a moment of deep consideration, Bran turned to leave the infirmary. "I'll have someone bring you food and water. I have to get back to Meady in the theater." He didn't wait for a reply.
    Kona sighed, reaching up to rub his face with heavy arms. It seemed that all of his body was suffering the aftermath of his drug-induced heart attack. He was an idiot for caving to that substance again, much less than his foolish and impulsive idea to take eight ounces after having been cleansed. Those whispers, though, drove him to such madness. The same whispers that Mizou had informed Kona too late that he wasn't the only one who could  hear them. Kona needed to talk to those other Nisus members. He needed to figure out what was happening in this damned city.
    Icy gaze drifting to a young boy from across the room, Kona made eye contact with the youngest member of the Nisus main base, Orikye. Bowl-cut brunette hair, fair skin, and the typical lanky frame of a growing pubescent boy, he was far too innocent-looking to be a member in a city gang, yet here the kid was. He was inflicted with lycanthropy merely three years ago at the delicate age of fourteen. Orikye was discovered by Meady when the kid was curled into a ball of matted brown fur during a Full Moon Retreat. He was terrified to return home, ignorant of his new abilities and transformations, and feared that his family would turn against him if they discovered what he had become. Nisus, of course, adopted Orikye with open arms, and Meady favored the boy for quite some time until he began to harbor romantic feelings for the maternal woman.
    Orikye stared at Kona with wide, green eyes full of wonder. His lips trembled with hesitation to speak, desperate to say something to the older man whom he admired. Unfortunately, Kona had a history of snapping at Orikye with harsh words and a bitter tone. He knew that Kona didn't hate him, but he could never ascertain if he annoyed him. 
    "Stay away from drugs, Orikye," Kona breathed, feeling the adolescent's desire for conversation. He knew of Orikye's admiration for him, and Kona cursed himself for being such a shit role model.
    Jolting from the sudden sound of Kona's advice, Orikye quickly found his voice, "Yes, sir. I've stayed clean so far." He glanced to his side, seeing his teammate reclined in his respective cot and observing the scene that unfolded before him. Orikye shifted, the sting of his unhealing wound making him hiss. He heard Kona inquire about their wounds, to which Orikye replied with suspicious hesitation, "We were ambushed by Mongrelz just outside of our territory. We managed to escape in the van."
    "The hell was your team doing so far out?" Eyebrows knitting with concern, Kona studied the young boy in the dim lighting. Nisus tried to expand its territory when it could, but to send just a small team? That seemed to be a scouting mission, and he hadn't heard about a need to find anything in the Mongrelz territory.
    No, wait. Mizou had mentioned a suspected secret base. Were they searching for that?
    Seeing Orikye glance at his older teammate, silently begging for some sort of guidance, Kona waited for some sort of reply. The hesitancy was building his suspicions with each passing second. Orikye finally broke when he failed to receive any sort of help from his pony-tailed cohort, "We were tracking the pathing of wild animals that have been wandering further into the city. They're congregating toward Mongrelz territory, but we still don't have any idea where they're headed." He was a damn good zoologist for his age; smarter than most of the young members of Nisus. Orikye could have easily been a park ranger or veterinarian, if he hadn't lost his human life. He rarely had chances to let his passion shine, and this recent phenomenon was undoubtedly his calling.
    Glimpses of the dream flashed through Kona's vision. He had plenty of dreams about running around as a wolf; most of them involving his disdain for his lycanthropy, running around in confusion on his hands and feet without a strip of cloth or fur on his skin. This recent dream, however, Kona had yet to experience. Did he have any reason to believe that it was prophetic in any way? Kona chose to remain silent about it, for now.
    Eventually, a woman entered the infirmary with a large tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of water. She had long, chestnut hair that draped past her shoulders to the small of her back. With a narrow face and high cheekbones, she held a mature appearance that was overshadowed by her slender figure and perky breasts. Kona knew this woman to be the Alpha's mate, Elis, who enjoyed playing the matriarch role in the Nisus gang. Often, she could be found baking treats or cooking larger meals for the residents of the main base.
    Laying the tray on a table next to Kona's cot, Elis flashed him a smile with her thinning lips. "How are you feeling?" She asked with sincere concern, her voice betraying her small frame with a tender depth of maternal love.
    Weak appendages be damned, Kona strained to reach over and grabbed one of the thickly-packed sandwiches, layered in ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and purple onions. A whine escaped his throat as he willed his shoulder to cooperate just a little longer. Immediately, blush filled Kona's cheeks at the realization that he appeared to be so weak. He feigned indifference and replied to Elis' query, "Like shit. I can barely move without some sort of pain or weakness."
    "Well, you did die for a while," Elis smirked, pouring Kona a glass of cool water from the pitcher. From what she had observed, there was no way Kona would be able to pour it himself. "But, that's not what I was asking about. How are you feeling in terms of the psychotic break? You gave everyone a hell of a scare." Elis looked over her shoulder to acknowledge Orikye and his dark-haired teammate, Jamari, from across the room.
    Kona paused, chewing slowly on his bite of the sandwich. It filled his mouth with the same relief as drinking a cool glass of water after a long workout. He hadn't heard the whispers since he had awoken, but that was barely a half hour. Would he be able to contain himself if they did begin to scratch at his eardrums again? Now that he knew he wasn't hallucinating, Kona had a way to ground himself to reality. "I think," he gulped down the over-chewed bite of food, "I'll be fine now, but I have a terrible feeling that I caused all of this."
    "You?" Elis lowered herself to the cot near Kona, folding her arms and leaning forward with an intense curiosity. "You mean the whispers that you and the others are hearing?" When Kona nodded, she urged him to clarify how he could have arrived at such a conclusion.
    "I shouldn't have let that woman run from me," Kona's defeated voice admitted. The more he thought about that night, the more perturbed he became.
    Elis studied Kona for a few moments, her hazel eyes scanning his demeanor. She detected the heavy regret, the concern for his decision's results, and a hint of genuine distress over the woman he barely knew. "Somehow, whatever has happened to her is causing this, you think?"
    Nodding again, Kona explained how he had directed Liali to Gaia's Haven, and that was the last he had seen of her. He refrained from disclosing that Liali was a unicorn, or why he told her about Gaia's Haven. "I was hoping to go to the retreat to see her again," he bit into his sandwich, releasing a long sigh. Going to the retreat would help confirm Kona's theories about the whispers and the wandering animals in the city. If Liali was still in Gaia's Haven, then something else was amiss. If Liali was missing, then Kona was almost certain that something terrible had happened to her, and he suspected the worst: Mongrelz.
    A sly smile spread across Elis' lips, "Is that so?"
    The tone in Elis' voice gave pause to Kona's chewing. He locked eyes with her, processing what the woman was hinting toward. Kona forced his partially chewed food to one cheek, feeling that the need to speak was much more urgent than being polite, "N-no. I mean, she could..." Kona began to stumble over his words, unable to string together a proper sentence in his defense. His cheeks flushed with a sense of embarrassment that he hadn't felt in years. When Elis began to giggle, he surrendered a sigh, and returned to eating.
    "Well, I hope you get the chance to meet her again," said Elis. She stood from the cot, strolling out of the infirmary with passive greetings to Orikye and the now snoozing Jamari.
    Being a member of Nisus was a strange experience, considering that it was under the guise of a street gang. They manufactured and peddled drugs and weapons, as most gangs do. They fought over territory with vehicles, ammunition, and assassinations. Many of the members robbed unfortunate citizens of Neo Atlas, but found that it caused too much trouble, in the long-run. Nisus was a family of werewolves; few of them were related by blood, and many of them only sought a safe place to call home. They weren't upstanding citizens by any means, but there were people like Meady, Elis, and Orikye who did their best to keep a familial culture within the gang. Their Alpha, Kion, strived to acquire werewolf survival and comfort via moral means - when possible.
    At times, Kona would forget that being part of Nisus wasn't so bad. He hated the werewolf lifestyle, mainly for what it stole from him, but at least he had allies who understood his suffering. Well, most of them did. Some members were excited to realize their lycanthropy, and even more jovial to meet others. The worst of the werewolves joined the Mongrelz, taking as they pleased in all forms and fashions that were downright repugnant. Kona had his low moments, but he had never considered performing the acts that he had witnessed of the Mongrelz.
    The steady rush of air through working lungs, and the greedy crunching of salivation and food, filled the infirmary as Kona eagerly devoured his meal. He held his gaze to his lap, deep in contemplation with the warring thoughts within his mind. Kona vaguely heard the sounds of Bran's voice, a mere muffle that was quickly dismissed by the Captain. Orikye shifted from his cot, following Bran out of the room, most likely to have the silver bullets removed from his wounds. Still, Kona's distant stare remained, blaming himself for something he wasn't completely sure was true. The dream of chasing the moonlight worried him, and the sense of longing swelled within his chest as it did then.
    
        As soon as Nisus arrived in Gaia's Haven, they sensed a tremendous disturbance within the wilderness. Silence had befallen the area, void of its usual ambiance of twittering birds, chirping crickets, and skittering mammals. This would have been a natural occurrence, if winter snows blanketed the earth in their respective season; however, it was summer, and the foliage was thick with health. Even the leaves of windswept trees held their breath as though afraid to break the silence. With each step that the Nisus members took, treading deeper into the forest, they felt a growing anxiety build. Mizou was certain this was a symptom of the strange animal behavior within the city. Had they all evacuated Gaia's Haven?
    Mizou looked to his Commander, Alpha Kion, with a knowing gaze, "Something tells me that we won't be resting during this retreat."
    The Nisus Alpha, Kion, was a broad man who towered over Mizou at nearly seven feet in stature. His deeply tanned skin was worn, covered in tattoos, and littered with scars that had yet to completely heal over. Nearly blending in with the shade of his flesh was the wavy brunette hair that cascaded to his shoulders. It was parted in the middle; the right side braided tightly against his scalp in four rows, and the left remained loose to show off the silvery strands that sprouted from his temple. Kion's eyes were a smokey grey, shaped by wisdom and unfortunate experiences that creased their corners and bottom lids. His squared head was decorated with eight golden piercings along the rim of his right ear, and a thick golden chain that draped around his neck. Kion normally chose to dress in casual attire on the retreats, especially in the summertime, which he hated. The man always felt too hot in the warmer climates, his dark skin glistening with beads of sweat, and his drenched sleeveless top clung to the moisture like a glove. He huffed, feeling uncomfortable with the vacuum sensation of the forest's absence of life, "I agree. Perhaps we should have investigated here sooner."
    "Do you think the problem originates from Gaia's Haven?" Mizou's eyes caught his mate, Meady, staring upward to a tree branch. Kion followed his General's gaze, noticing a few small lumps at Meady's feet. Excusing himself, Mizou approached the red-headed woman from behind, "What'd you find?"
    Meady didn't have to reply, her head dropping to the five young squirrels that lay lifeless at her feet. The nest above looked to be untouched, so why did the little ones choose to fall out?
    "They're malnourished and dehydrated," Orikye walked up to Meady and Mizou. "As they began dying, the surviving siblings most likely pushed the corpses out of the nest." He stooped down, using a stick to push the stiff rodents around as he examined them closer. Orikye explained that he had noticed a fox pup in the same condition not far into the woods. At first, he didn't think anything of it, but the more infantile creatures they were discovering with the same symptoms, the more he worried. "Whatever is going on, the older animals think it's much more important to abandon their young and go into the city," he theorized.
    Narrowing his black eyes, Mizou recalled what Kona had told him about the unicorn woman; how he had pointed her in the direction of Gaia's Haven to seek a new domain. Had she already established her territory? And if so, then why drive the animals out? That wasn't natural unicorn behavior, from what little he knew about them. Orikye knew even less about the elusive cryptid, having never met one in his short seventeen years of life. There was even less documentation about unicorns, which had become bastardized by modern speculation that became increasingly obnoxious with each passing century. Even so, Mizou highly doubted that a unicorn would purposefully destroy a healthy ecosystem, of all things.
    Kion instructed his gang to continue on with the retreat. They were to keep an eye out for further suspicious activity, or lack thereof, that could give them some level of insight.
    Deeper, they wandered into Gaia's Haven, toward a short waterfall and creek that they often used during the summertime retreats. Everyone secured their backpacks, used for storing their clothes during the full moon, to nearby trees. Evening sank into the dimness of dusk, and lustrous moonlight soon overtook the dark night.
    The moment the moonlight refracted within their eyes, the Nisus members began to feel the grooved sensation of their bodies morphing beyond their will. They welcomed it, no longer in fear of what they couldn't control; for they had gained control of where the event took place. Spines lowering, hips tilting, and appendages reshaping, no longer were they human or werewolf, but fully-formed wolves. Though their bodies changed, their minds remained intact and completely aware. Now was the time to be truly liberated of human trivialities; of currency and property, of possessions and luxuries. The retreat was organized for escapism, allowing werewolves to be comfortable in their most vulnerable time.
    Not that a quadrupedal werewolf was anything to sneeze at. They were only vulnerable due to their inability to hide their unfavorable appearances from the humans who would wish harm upon them. While under the mercy of the full moon, werewolves unwillingly assumed their quadrupedal forms. This was also the only time that they were able to be this way. Massive, maned canines that rivaled steeds, powerful enough to shred steel, and intelligent as any human.
    Now that they had settled into their four-legged shape, it was time for the hunt - if there was anything to hunt.
    The immense wolves separated into small groups, scouring Gaia's Haven for a few deer or rabbits to kill. Their efforts proved fruitless, even in search of smaller game. The only living creatures that seemed to remain within the forest were some insects and anything waterbound. Orikye noted that he had yet to see a living spider.
    Then, evidence began to reveal itself.
    Vince smelled it first; his nose investigated a mysteriously disturbed area deep within the center of the forest. "Mizou," he called to the Nisus General, gesturing his head for the dark-as-night wolf to come closer, "those fuckers have been here recently."
    Dipping his muzzle down to the discarded piece of shredded fabric, Mizou inhaled its weakening scent. The stench of mildew, sweat, and cigarettes filled his nostrils, along with a signature musk that he had come to loathe. Mizou's fur stood on end, the ridge of his back rising with firy disdain for those who dared to intrude on Nisus ground: Mongrelz.
    Further probing of the immediate area revealed signs of a scuffle, including traces of blood. There was no doubt that a large group of the rival gang had been here. Somehow, they had crossed through Nisus territory within the city, and slithered their way into Gaia's Haven. They could have also simply rounded the city to evade Nisus detection, but what was so important now? Certainly, that unicorn wasn't worth starting a gang war, was she?
    A silver-furred wolf approached Vince and Mizou, her muzzle only vaguely more pale and dulled by age than the rest of her body. Gently clutched between her jaws was a peculiar, limp object made of thin, golden chains and lead weights on the ends. Vince immediately recognized it as a bola. The silver wolf dropped the strange weapon on the ground, speaking with a concerned tone, "There's more like this; all of them are made with gold. Necklaces, belts, and all sorts are scattered around here."
    D'Neri was another Captain, and one of the older members - by appearance - of Nisus, who had contracted lycanthropy at a late age in her human life. She had become an effective member of the gang in a short time; cunning and wise. D'Neri had found her way into Nisus only six years ago.
    Exchanging glances with Vince, the General found himself further confused with what had transpired under their noses. What was the purpose of the various golden items? Why did they specifically have to be made of gold? If not for the singular trait, they would easily be deemed irrelevant to each other. Mizou didn't know a great deal about unicorns, but he certainly had never heard of gold having anything to do with them. "Gather whatever evidence you come across and bring it to the campsite," he ordered. "We'll discuss it once we find food."
    The pack settled on a piscine meal for the night, which was an ordeal in itself to catch enough to fill their large appetites. They bounced theories from one another over their meal, filling in any gaps of information. Some members had to hold their tongues about the search for a Mongrelz secret base. Mizou remained silent about Liali's identity, mainly out of respect for Kona's obvious hesitation to share it with him. The main concern was that the threat of a mole within their ranks was still heavily apparent.
    "How are the Mongrelz suddenly getting around our patrols?" Orikye queried, bothered by the crack in Nisus' otherwise thorough security.
    "Most likely, they're being informed by our mole," D'Neri piped up, tongue running over her bloodstained muzzle. She glanced at her youngest teammate, offering a silent warning to choose his words carefully. "What I want to know is if they plan to return here."
    "If they're taking such a risk for hunts, then I strongly doubt they'll return," Kion noted, clearly irritated by the limited supply of meat. He hated eating fish, but this had become a necessity for the next three days. "Gaia's Haven is barren of land-dwelling game, and we'll surely put a dent in the fish population."
    Orikye's ears perked up, a thought jolting through his mind, "What if the Mongrelz' plan was to get rid of all the game in Gaia's Haven?"
    "That would line up with our evidence so far, especially since the wildlife has been flooding the city lately," Vince mumbled. He mused to himself how the Mongrelz would be able to hunt wild game within their territory, simultaneously emptying Nisus' supply. "If that's the case, then we have reason to believe that wild game northwest of the city have been over hunted."
    There were too many things that remained unanswered, however. Kona and the other few Nisus members who could hear the voices from seemingly nowhere were undoubtedly caused by the influx of wildlife in the city. How the Mongrelz could have essentially smoked the animals from Gaia's Haven was still a mystery; including why they were using golden bindings. Mizou expressed his suspicions that the woman Kona had met was involved in this, somehow, to which Bran scoffed with disbelief.
    Mizou's eyes narrowed toward Bran, "From what I understand, the whispers being heard hint toward searching for a 'her' or 'Lady'. This all began shortly after Kona's encounter with that woman, so it's a plausible theory."
    "Easily debunkable," Bran curled his upper lip, seeming offended that Mizou wasn't agreeing with him. "We've found many deceased young in the forest. The animals that are wandering through the city are of age to travel great distances. They're simply searching for their lost young."
    "All of them female?" Elis asked, watching Bran with a cautious gaze as she tried to piece together his reasoning.
    Bran merely shrugged at this, "Only a handful of us can hear these strange whispers, and we haven't been able to discern exactly what's being said." Noticing Elis' wary gaze, he relaxed, nibbling at the fish carcass between his paws.
    Exchanging glances, Kion and Elis wordlessly agreed to give the subject a break. Kion laid out the new plans for the remainder of their retreat. He ensured that the majority of the time would be spent in repose, but the concern for the forest's unstable condition should remain in the back of their minds. This was comfortably accepted by the many werewolves at the retreat, though they couldn't deny that a mystery to solve was an exciting activity - next to the fucking, of course.