The People's Alpha ✔

15: Welcome To Zombieland

The song is Trans-Island Skyway by Donald Fagen. Temperatures are in Celsius. 

The Moon Goddess glided along effortlessly in fifth gear, engine thrumming away at a steady 3500 revs, just a hair under eighty miles an hour. The road was unsealed and heavily washboarded, but she just floated over the bumps like they weren't there.

The happenings of the past week seemed miles away. I felt completely relaxed.

The truck ahead of us was taking it slow due to the poor condition of the road, and the supercharged Goddess was quickly catching up. I checked that the opposite lane was clear before pulling out.

We cruised slowly past the semi-trailer, and then a black G-Wagen with Golden Fir plates. Its suited occupants were clearly not enjoying the ride too much. Brian waved, briefly taking his hand off the windowsill. They didn't wave back.

I suddenly noticed the familiar slim black book in Brian's hands as I merged back onto the right side of the road. "Seriously, Brian?"

"It's the greatest book of all time. You don't know what you're missing out on. It's got everything. Alpha kings, next-level mate bond pseudoscience, a rank system that maybe three Alphas could actually understand, the works."

I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel a little, until I had just two fingers on the wheel. "Sounds interesting."

We were in the High plains. The forest had long given way to barren grasslands. through which the road ran, straight as an arrow. Once upon a time, wolves had struggled to survive here, eking out a meagre existence trapping the burrowing rats that were the only source of food on the barren plains.

The windows were down and the radio was tuned to Sunshine Beach Radio. Mine by Zenia, the official anthem for every 1980s teen wolf, was belting out of the stereo.

He's mine

Mine!

Mine...

The music faded. replaced by the inimitable opening chords of Josie.

Brian looked puzzled. "How the hell did they skip from Zenia to Steely Dan?"

I sighed. "It's what happens when you give full control of a radio station to someone whose only previous experience with human music was the Nokia ringtone."

"It's not that I don't like Steely Dan," Brian mumbled. "I'm just sick and tired of them."

"They're still a damn sight better than that lycanpop dreck Zirconians keep on trying to flog to us," I offered, seeing Brian's pained expression.

"Zenia's pretty good."

"She was one of the last. All the new music is manufactured garbage."

"You know what? Let's switch to Quaking Tree FM." Brian put his hand on the radio dial. "At least I can get behind lycanfolk, however mediocre it may be."

I shrugged. "You know, I've never understood the appeal of songs titled 'We Will Crush The Zirconian Scum For Five Hundred Years To Come.' Anyway, go ahead."

Brian switched the channel.

***

My predecessor as Alpha had always had some crazy get-rich-quick schemes. Back then, Interpack Bus Lines was just one rusty old Leyland bus that we occasionally loaned out to other packs, and we spent most of our days praying to the Moon Goddess that we would have food on the table tomorrow and the power wouldn't be cut off.

Then one day he had been visiting another pack, when he heard Deacon Blues playing in the pack house.

And so my acquaintance with the body of work of Messrs Becker and Fagen had been born. One minute we didn't know who the hell Steely Dan were, and the next Alpha Daniel had somehow managed to get a loan from the Ebony Oak Pack, and we were sitting on three thousand copies of Aja and trying to flog them as fast as possible.