The Wild Hunt

Part 1, Marcus

The Wild Hunt

I rolled down 108 on the mountain road, the warm summer air pushing against my chest. It had been fourteen months since I was turned, fourteen months since that Wolf sank its teeth into my thigh. I woke up, screaming in a cold pool of my sweat as I'm forced to relive the event in my dreams. Those yellow eyes looking back at me as I bled out on that dusty warehouse floor, its jet black fur and huge teeth dripping with my blood. I may have come to terms with what I am, but every time I fall asleep the nightmares still come for me.

I learned pretty quickly that being a lone wolf was not an option, others like you can sense what you are, wolves are pack animals and Werewolves are no different. In their world, you join a pack or die fighting to be free. Seems like an obvious choice, but I moved from California to Stowe Vermont to try and avoid it but ended up running right into one of the largest packs of them all.

The Wild Hunt MC, a Pack of Werewolves hiding in plain sight as a motorcycle club. Nobody questioned why they spent all of their time together, like a lot of known MC's they had a reputation and were seen as outlaws, that helped the People of Stowe give them a wide birth.

Stowe was a small town surrounded by mountains and trees, known mainly for its skiing in the winter. There were plenty of winding roads to ride and plenty of places for people to go missing without raising suspicion, but the Club had a Rule, that no member could hunt in or around town unless they were hunting animals.

The Club found me the second day I was in town, it was almost like they were waiting for me, they gave me the option of joining them and given the alternative I gave in and excepted. So now I'm a Prospect for the Wild Hunt MC.

I had always been a Bike lover so riding was nothing new to me, but I never imagined I would end up a Prospect. With a regular MC, a member would prospect for a set period while the other members evaluated his worth and tried to make a connection. If he passed that period, proved his worth, he would become a fully patched member. But being a Prospect for a Pack of Werewolves just meant that you were at the bottom of the pecking order. In a Pack, the only way to increase your station was to challenge another higher up than you and win and the only way out of the Pack was in a body bag. So I wear the patch of Prospect while those above me wear the full patch, with the Clubs name and symbol, the image of a wolf howling at the moon. It feels a little on the nose if I'm honest but I guess that's just part of the whole hiding in plain sight thing.

I took the exit off of the 108 onto the 100 and headed back toward home. I loved riding alone, there was a certain feeling you got when riding as a group, all the engines roaring together felt powerful, primal but riding alone always had a way of clearing away the cobwebs from the nightmares. The feel of the vibration from my 883 and the growl from the short shot pipes mixed with the smell of the engine oil and trees that always seemed tall enough to block my view of the sky soothed me, it was beautiful but I think it had more to do with the animal inside of me than my love for the road.

As I rode down 100, past the lower village I spotted Scout waiting for me. Scout's name was Mitchel Scouton but the Pack just call him Scout, he was the other Prospect. A young guy from New York, straight out of Harlem, came Down here looking for peace and found The Club just like I had four months before him. The poor guy had only just turned 20, still had his whole life ahead of him. Since they took him in he had stuck to me like glue, treated me like I was his older brother, since he followed me around so much he knew I liked to clear my head in the mornings and knew where to wait for me when I returned.

"Michael has called a meeting at Church!" he said as I pulled up next to him.

Church was a room at the back of the Club House where members would vote on things that affected the Club. Michael was the Club Founder, President and Alpha of the Pack, Church was for Club business but if there was an issue that affected the Pack he would have the final say.