We Are Monsters 🌕 Book 1 || gxg

Werewolves of Thunder Bay

Brown trees, brown grass, brown as far as the eye could see—which, up here, was really not that much. April was an ugly time of year. Sam didn't understand the joy people got from it. Until the leaves were fully blooming, she found spring to be tiring. Endless bare trees with patches of snow at their feet rolled past the windows with little else to liven things up.

How long had they been driving for? What year was it? Sam had been in that car longer than she had been alive. She had doom-scrolled through every social media platform she was on—twice—and read an entire book since they left late at night. All that on top of having done a four hour shift behind the wheel.

Driving to Thunder Bay had sounded like a good idea at the time. Somewhere around eight in the morning she stopped feeling that way. Now all she wanted was to be at home having a hot meal and relaxing on the couch. Instead her butt was sore and she was losing feeling in her right leg.

Aidan was a little too comfortable behind the wheel. Sam did her best to ignore the speedometer as it crept closer and closer to 130km/h in an 80 zone. He drove one handed, the other leaned on the door with his fist propping up his head. They had been mostly alone on the seldom-used highway. Thunder Bay sat on the north-west border of Ontario about as far away from anything as a city can be—if it could be called a city.

For the dozenth time Sam longed to be back in her living room that evening of the funeral. She had thought of about a twenty different things she should have said. The whole day had been too overwhelming and she wasn't thinking quickly. Ada seemed to think her story was inconsequential next to their own, but Sam disagreed wholeheartedly.

Ada stared at the floor the entire time she told her story. She grew up with two older siblings, Charles and Jocelyn, who were six years her senior. Unlike Sam and her sister, Lori, they didn't bond as well. Nonetheless, Ada adored them. She wanted everything to do with anything they did, but was often ignored and excluded. When they suddenly wanted something to do with her, she jumped on the opportunity. It started small, a chocolate bar from a convenience store, a toy from the dollar store, and other easily concealed items. And at first, Ada thought it was fun. They rewarded her with praise and attention whenever she did. When she got caught, they explained it away as a young child having slipped away when they were distracted, just a silly mistake. Ada's record was remarkably clean.

Time passed and their appetite grew. They began stealing larger things, like clothing and shoes, then video games. By the time she was sixteen they had moved on to full-blown burglary. The first house they ever broke into was Mrs. Lemieux, the tenth grade math teacher who failed Jocelyn and made her take the class again. They stole her television. At first, they had nothing they could do with the larger things they stole. After all, they couldn't take them home, and they couldn't sell them. At least, not yet.

It was Charles who made the connection. Toronto was a big city, he made the right friends, and found his way to a fence. Then, things really picked up. What was just an occasional pass time became a means of income for them. It became a monthly event, one Ada couldn't get away from. They were too noticeable, and she had learned a lot from true crime podcasts, enough to give her a conscience about what they were doing. She stopped enjoying it, resented it, in fact. She couldn't get away from it, though. Jocelyn threatened to turn her into the police. After all, Ada was the one doing the breaking and entering. She was the one with the tools, the books, the YouTube history. One cursory police investigation would tie her to it all. Jocelyn and Charles, on the other hand, kept nothing around to link them to the crime. They always wore gloves and hats (as did Ada) and kept none of their spoils. The cash was the only thing that could possibly tie them to it, and even that would be iffy. Ada knew better than to ignore Jocelyn. She never bluffed, Ada didn't think she was capable of it. Full, intense honesty was the only way she lived.