Pocket Apocalypse Page 72


“What about his family?” Helen sounded scandalized.

“Cooper didn’t have any family left, and if he had, they would have been allowed to come with us for the feeding.” Charlotte swung the doors open. I tensed, waiting for the smell of rotting flesh to come wafting out. It didn’t. Human bodies decay fast when they’re actually dead. The absence of the stench was . . . well, it wasn’t a good thing.

Charlotte took a step forward, squinting into the gloom. Then she stopped, and sighed, and said, “The rest of you ought to come and take a look at this. I think we have a problem.”

“That’s good,” I muttered. “We needed a problem tonight. Everything was going far too smoothly, so it’s obvious that we were people in need of a problem.” I stepped up behind her.

Somehow, it wasn’t a surprise when I saw the hole that had been ripped in the shed’s rear wall. Whatever had made the opening had peeled the tin back like they were opening a can of sardines. I frowned at the jagged tears in the metal and stepped inside, ignoring the vague protests and exclamations of distress from my companions. The danger was past. Our werewolf had long since fled for more welcoming climes.

“Didn’t any of you think to check for a pulse?” asked Helen. “I’d have thought that was basic logic.”

“I checked,” I said. “But I was bleeding out at the time. Did anyone else check?”

“Riley did,” said Charlotte. She hesitated before adding, “Through gloves and a plastic sheet. We were taking precautions against infection, and you’d already said that he was dead.”

“Again, bleeding out at the time,” I said, turning back to face them. “There’s no tearing from the outside. Cooper must have woken up once he’d recovered from his blood loss—and that’s a good trick, really, I would have thought the amount of blood he’d lost would keep him out of commission for at least a little bit longer, even if it didn’t kill him—and then torn his way out, rather than risking being caught here. Is there any way to unlock the door from the inside?”

“Why in the world would there be? No one ever gets stuck in there,” said Charlotte. She sounded affronted, like I had just accused her of locking her children in the shed. That hadn’t been my intention, but this didn’t seem like the time or the place to get embroiled into another “what I actually meant was . . .” conversation. Speaking a common language didn’t do much good when there were cultural and societal gulfs between you. “The door is always locked from the outside.”

“Right. Then he would have had to tear his way out, even if he was trying not to be noticed.” I snapped my fingers. “The ruckus when we got back from the meadow run. Everyone was there, ready and eager to accuse us of things, and it made so much noise that a little tin being torn on an isolated part of the property wouldn’t even have been noticed. We know he has at least one accomplice. They could have whipped everyone into a frenzy.”

Shelby leveled a flat look on me, eyebrows raised. I blinked.

“What?” I asked.

“If he had an accomplice capable of getting everyone all worked up and mad, why not ask that same accomplice to open the padlock from the outside?” she asked. “Much easier. No need to rend metal for no good reason, less chance that someone’s going to take a wrong turn and see the great gaping hole you’ve ripped in things.”

“Yeah, but this was a fair scare, wasn’t it?” asked Helen. We all turned to look at her. She shrugged. “I’m just saying. You open a door you thought was safely keeping things inside, and what you find is that a dead man has come back to life and ripped his way out through a wall. So now he’s terrifying.”

“And terrifying men are usually men you don’t want to mess around with,” I said, nodding. “Cooper knew that if we figured him out, we’d be coming here to confirm it—if he was just gone, what good would that do him? He’d be passing up a chance to scare the pants off us.”

“We might have thought something stole his body to eat, and given him a little more time to get away,” Shelby said.

Charlotte snorted. “Cooper? Nah. If he was going to do something like this, he’d do it as flashy as possible. He liked to come off quiet and then surprise everyone. That’s the sort of fellow he was.” Her face fell. “Is. And now he’s a werewolf. Has he been a werewolf this whole time?”

“He was probably infected before you had any idea there was a risk. Now, he has control over his transformations,” I said. “He’s been a werewolf for at least three months, maybe longer. I’d say that he’s been recruiting people from within the Society to help him out, based on what we’ve seen so far.”

“Oh, my God.” Charlotte put a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I think I’m going to go back to the house and get the mice,” I said. I shook my head. “We have to check everyone for infection. Anyone here could be a werewolf.”

“Anyone except me,” said Helen. “It’s been lovely seeing you all, but I think I’m going to get the fuck out of here before something rips my head off. Please be sure to call if anything else that might kill us all fetches up, all right? A little advance warning would be wonderful.”

“I’ll make sure someone calls you,” I said.

Helen nodded before turning and walking, with admirable briskness, back toward the road. I would have been uncomfortable about letting her go off alone, if not for two things: out of all of us, she had the least to fear from a rogue werewolf, and any werewolf had quite a bit to fear from her. Wadjet venom could rival taipan for strength, and at her age and general level of physical fitness, she was generating more than enough to kill anything that decided to cross her. It wasn’t a solution to everything, as the wadjet of the world learned when the Covenant first entered India with guns in hand, but it would be enough to get her safely to the car.

“Mum, come on.” Shelby took hold of her mother’s arm, tugging gently. “We need to go with Alex. We need to call everyone together and explain what’s going on.”

“And while we’re having meetings, how many of our new enemies will we be telling exactly what we know?” Charlotte shook her head, giving me a plaintive look. “Are you sure Cooper is our werewolf?”

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