The Fleck was beginning to wear off. Eckers leaned back against the alley wall, dreading the headache to come. Wherever B’ya got this stuff, it was great. He could still taste the metallic, sweet smoke in his mouth. He lit a cigarette and thought of Trinny. ‘She never could handle her Fleck.’ He thought.

 

            He thought about the last time they made love. He could still smell the Fleck in her hair and taste the Anticipation on her lips when they kissed. She liked the stuff, and liked to mix too much.

 

            It had been almost a week since he bolted from the apartment, leaving her there. He was sure the cops would be looking for him. It wasn’t his fault. The dumb bitch took too much. Worse yet, she took too much of his stuff and left him high and dry. Dumb bitch.

 

            A can fell to the ground in the shadows at the far end of the alley.

 

            Eckers stood up. “B’ya? Is that you?” He whispered loudly. “Man, that ain’t funny. Is that you?” No reply came. Eckers dropped his cigarette and smashed it under foot. There was another sound of falling garbage. Eckers took a few steps toward the noise. “I swear, B’ya, if you’re trying to freak me out, I’m going to kick your ass.” It was then Eckers saw two dim lights in the dark. They were low to the ground and bobbed gently. Then they appeared to blink. “What the hell?”

 

            Eckers turned to run out of the alley. B’ya or not, this was too freaky, and it was completely killing whatever buzz he still had left. He heard a growl behind him and turned to see the lights fly at him.

 

            Four sets of claws ripped through his clothes to the soft skin beneath. He clawed back for dear life. He didn’t have time to scream before the beast’s teeth sank into his throat and crushed his voice box. Then the beast reared back and tore Ecker’s throat out.

 

            A few moments later, when the beast was gone, Ecker’s Fleck-tainted blood crept across the alley floor into the dark shadows of the Big City night.

 

Big City

“Autumn”

by Eric Schwartz

 

            Stack Fury poured coffee into his travel mug. He put the pot back onto the burner and turned off the machine. On his way to the door he grabbed his keys and his badge. He clipped his badge onto his belt, put on his jacket and left the apartment. The crisp Big City morning was a welcome sight. From the top of the hill he could see the sun shining on the ocean, while most of the city still lay in the shadow of the mountains behind him. A glorious day.

 

            Stack had been very lucky to find an apartment here, for what he made. The brownstone apartments that lined the hilly street, known as Banter’s Row, were usually expensive and always in demand. He figured that Teadum, his landlord, liked the idea of having a cop in the building and cut the price. Teadum seemed to fancy cops. Even after nearly three years he never addressed Stack as anything but “Sergeant.” 

 

            “Good Morning, Sergeant.” Teadum said, coming up the concrete steps to the front door. He carried a bucket of paint and a tool box.

 

            Stack smiled. “Good morning, Teadum. You’re up early. Fixin’ to do some fixin’?” Stack chuckled.

 

            Teadum never seemed to get jokes. That is to say, he never gave the correct response. They just seemed to move past him. He caught them, just never laughed. He made a sound like he was hacking up a popcorn hull. “Damn dogs.” He grumbled. Stack looked at him quizzically. Teadum nodded toward the front door and Stack turned around. The old door was wood with an etched glass center. Deep gouges were dug into the wood, all around the door handle and lock and along the bottom. “This is why I don’t allow freakin’ dogs.” Teadum blurted, dropping the paint and toolbox. “They’re murder on wood.”

 

            Stack crouched down next to the door. The gouges were nearly as wide as his finger. “That’s some dog.” He scanned the door again and realized that the glass had also been scratched. Small strips of glass lined the scratches. The claws had dug fairly deep into the glass. “Sharp.” Stack mumbled.

 

            “Hmm?” Teadum asked.

 

            “Oh, I was just remarking at how sharp this dog’s claws must have been to cut into the glass like that.”

 

            Teadum leaned in. “Aw! Dammit! I didn’t even see that. The whole thing will have to be replaced. Dammit. Hey, you’re a cop,” Teadum always began legal questions with that phrase. “If this thing comes back tonight, and I see it, can I shoot it?”

 

            Stack stood up and sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a gun?”

 

            There was a pause. Teadum finally nodded. “I got a license and everything. Ammo and gun on are on opposite ends of the apartment. I got one of them trigger lock things too. For when my ex brings the kids by. It’s all good.”

 

            Stack smiled. He loved giving Teadum a hard time. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’re fine.”

 

            “I even know how to shoot.”

 

            Stack pulled his keys from his pocket, which was meant to indicate that he had to leave. “I think you’d be better off calling Animal Control.” Stack chuckled and headed to his car.

 

            “You’re probably right.” Teadum said after him. Stack continued to his car. “Will they give me a report? Something I can give to my insurance? You know, so that I can get this door replaced?” Even though he had yelled the last part, Sergeant Forray got into his vehicle and pulled away. Teadum shrugged and figured Stack hadn’t heard him. ‘Cops got a lot their mind.’ He thought.

 

*

            Needless Action splashed cold water on his face. He had no idea how he’d make it through that day. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible. He hadn’t slept in several days. He didn’t remember drinking anything the night before, but his headache spoke volumes. He pulled two paper towels out of the dispenser and dried his hands. He wanted to shout at Phillips and Squonk, as he was known, who were yukking it up at their lockers. His head throbbed every time they guffawed. Instead he glared at them.

 

            Finally Squonk caught sight of him. “Damn! Needless, you look like crap. Rough night?”

 

            “You finally making time with that nurse?” Phillips laughed.

 

            Needless scowled and moved toward the door as the two continued to laugh. He mumbled between clenched teeth. “Medical Examiner. She’s a Medical Examiner.”

 

            When he finally reached his desk, Stack had settled in and was chomping on a breakfast sandwich. The smell of the sandwich almost made Needless wretch. Stack took the last bite of his breakfast and wiped his hands.

 

            “Morning, sunshine.” Stack said, reaching for his coffee. Needless gurgled a disgruntled greeting. Stack smiled to himself. “You never turned up at Tucker’s last night.”

 

            “Could’ve fooled me.”

 

            “It’s too bad. Charlie and Laura showed up and we were doing Swampland Shooters. Quite a night.”

 

            Needless put his face in his hands. A Swampland Shooter was one part Moonglow, one part Goblin brandy and two parts Mistweed distillate, in a double tall shot glass with a dark beer chaser. Needless hated them in the first place. This morning he wanted to shoot Stack in the face for talking about them.

 

            Stack decided to have mercy and changed the subject. “So, what happened?”

 

            “I wish I knew. I did, however, wake up on the living room floor, completely naked, if that’s any indication of the kind of night I had.”

 

            “Wow.”

 

            “Yeah, so, I might not be the cheerful guy I normally am. Just warning you.”

 

            Stack just chuckled and turned on his computer. He scanned his email.

 

            “Why doesn’t  Smiles ever check his email?” Stack blurted.

 

            “Because the guy lives in the past. Plus he’s not tied to that thing like you are. For once I agree with him. I hate email.” Needless finally sat up full. “Have you ever thought about getting some professional help for your addiction?”

 

            Stack ignored the comment and continued reading the screen.

 

            A few moments later Breen poked his head out of his office and bellowed across the squad room, making Needless’ teeth hurt. “Stack! Needless! We just got a lead on that OD case you guys are working on.” They looked up at him. “Your suspect, the boyfriend, just turned up in the city morgue.”

 

            Needless threw his hands up in defeat. “Let’s roll, I guess.”

 

*

            The morgue was as cheerful as always. It did, however, hold new luster for Needless since he and Sioux had started dating. She was in the middle of an autopsy, so Stack and Needless were taken to the body by an assistant ME.  Ecker’s body was laid out on the examining table under a green sheet. The assistant pulled back the sheet.  Needless almost passed out.

 

            “As you can see, he was mauled to death. Looks like an animal. The estimated time of death is 2:15 AM.  Some strong amounts of Fleck were found in his system.” The assistant said.

 

            Stack leaned in to the body. “Anything under the fingernails?”

 

            “Yeah, some tissue and hair. Between that and the adrenaline in his system, I think this guy was fighting for his life.”

 

            Needless regained composure. “You think?” He blurted sarcastically. He leaned in to Stack. “Stack, I’m gonna start heaving on the recently departed if we don’t go soon.”

 

            Stack put up his hand to quiet his partner. He then brought his hand down until it hovered just over the gouges in the stomach. He stood up and nodded to the assistant, who recovered the body. He turned to Needless and spoke in a hushed tone.

 

            “I had gouges like this in the front door to my apartment this morning. Roughly the same size.”

 

            Needless folded his arms. “We might be dealing with a pack.”

 

            Stack rested his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. He turned back to the assistant ME. “Let me know when you get tests back on the tissue samples. You gonna do DNA?” The assistant nodded. “Let me know those too. You better send them to Sgt. Vleash in the Lycanthropy Division too.”

 

            The assistant stood stunned for a moment. “Werewolves?” He stammered meekly. The two detectives turned to leave. As they walked out of the room into the hallway, the assistant heard the elf mumble, “I freaking hate werewolves.”

 

*

            “Lycanthropy. Vleash.” He stated as he answered the phone. Sgt. Vleash sat back in his chair and grabbed the squeezy toy that rested atop his computer monitor. Vleash rolled his eyes as his preteen son’s voice blasted out of the phone.

 

            “Dad! Tell Tara to give me the remote.”

 

            Vleash sighed. “How the hell old are you two?”

 

            “She won’t give me the remote. She’s watching that show you don’t want her watching!”

 

            “I am not.” Vleash heard his daughter shriek in the background.

 

            “Dad, she just switched it.”

 

            Stack and Needless flopped down in the chairs across the desk from Vleash. Vleash again rolled his eyes and indicated to the two that it would only be a moment. Stack nodded. Things had definitely changed since the last time Stack had been here. The office was now in the basement, and nobody else seemed to be at their desks.

 

            “All right.” Vleash finally said after a few moments of bickering from the phone. “Look. I’m going to unhook the damn thing and bring it to work with me if you two can’t stop arguing. The two of you need to work it out.”

 

            “But dad…”

 

            “Work it out, Bobby.” He snapped, hanging up the phone. “So what brings you two down here to the crotch of the police department?” He inquired, sitting up.

 

            Stack looked around. “Just admiring your new pad. Everybody else call in sick?”

 

            Vleash opened his arms to present himself. “You’re looking at the BCPD Lycanthropy Division.”

 

            Stack’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”

 

            “Do you know how many werewolf attacks we’ve had in the last 3 years? 5. That’s counting the one that turned out to be a lap dog that some boyfriend wanted dead. If I need help I contact special weapons and I work with a special investigator over at Animal Control. One of those freakin’ ‘interdepartmental synergies’ the city has been bragging about.”

 

            “Well, add one more to your list.” Needless quipped.

 

            “No kidding?” Vleash sat up. “What have you got?”

 

            “Male. 19. He was this guy who’s girlfriend overdosed and he bolted. We were looking to pick him up, but they found him ripped to shreds in an alley last night.” Needless said.

 

            “Weird thing is, Toby, I had nearly matching claw marks on the door to my apartment building this morning.” Stack said, leaning in. “I’m thinking a pack may have rolled in off the flats.”

 

            “How far apart were the two incidents?”

 

            “About 7 miles. It’s not inconceivable that the two could be the same werewolf, but I think it’s unlikely.”

 

            Vleash shook his head in a way that didn’t give Needless much confidence. “Well, I’ll check out the body.  And give me your address, I’ll sniff around there too. I’d say they should beef up patrols tonight, and the blues should keep their eyes open. I should have a chance to look at everything and work up a composite by this afternoon. I don’t want anybody blowing somebody’s dog away.”

 

*

            By that night every patrol car in Big City had a rough sketch of what the wolf will probably look like, along with size specs. Once Vleash reported that the attack was, in fact, a werewolf attack, Commissioner Bledsoe gave a press conference in the main foyer of city hall.

 

            “This was a lycanthropic incident and we will do everything in our power to protect the citizens of Big City. Detective Sergeants Toby Vleash, John D’yen and Adam Forray are handling the case along with Ron Kreiger from Animal Control. “ Bledsoe pointed to Laura Medrano who stood near the center of the crowd. “Yes, Laura.”

 

            “Would a werewolf normally attack some one known to them? And could this lead to a suspect?”

 

            “I will let Sgt. Vleash field that question, Laura.”

 

            Vleash stepped to the microphone. “To answer your question, no. While some times the lycanthrope will attack a person known to what we call “The Host”, it is not standard. It is something we will investigate, but the odds are against the victim being known to the host. Our main concern is finding and subduing the creature or creatures. It is not our policy to destroy the animal on sight. Lycanthropy is an illness. This is a hunt and rescue operation. ”  Vleash pointed to another reporter. “Yes?”

 

            “You said ‘creature or creatures’. Is there a chance that there is more than one werewolf?” The reporter asked.

 

            “We also have some physical evidence of a wolf presence several miles from the attack that may indicate more than one lycanthrope.” He nodded to another reporter.

 

            Laura jotted her notes down quickly and scanned the foyer. Her gaze rested on Stack and Needless standing along the wall across the foyer. She broke away from the crowd and moved toward them.

 

            Needless shifted on his feet as she approached. Stack half waved.

 

            “Gentlemen.” She said.

 

            Needless tensed. “No comment.”

 

            Stack rolled his eyes. “Hi Laura. How are you feeling today?”

 

            Laura shrugged. “This morning was a little rough. It’ll be a while before I do shooters again.” She chuckled. “Charlie looked like he’d be slapped around with a shovel.” She turned to Needless. “You never turned up.”

 

            Needless continued to watch the press conference. “No comment.”

 

            Stack smiled. “He’s in a mood. Just ignore him. Although, you do know we can’t discuss the case right now.”

 

            Laura smirked. “What do you take me for? One of those sleezeporters from Channel 8?”

 

            Stack smirked and looked back at the press conference. “Mmhhm.”

 

            “Well,” Laura finally said after a pause, “this should have the everybody in town locked indoors tonight.”

 

            “We do need to tell people.” Needless said emotionlessly. “It helps to keep them safe.”

 

            Laura  turned at looked at him. “How safe is it when you have half the city roaming the streets, armed to the teeth, looking to kill this thing?”

 

            Needless finally broke his gaze at the podium and looked at her. “I couldn’t care less. This “humane” policy is ridiculous. I saw that guy today. Nothing remotely human could do that and there is no proof that the treatments work. Kill it.”

 

            Laura looked back at the podium. “You’re all heart, Needless.”

 

            Needless chuckled. It was the first funny thing he’d heard all day.

 

*

            “Do you have any idea what they do to school yard pushers like you in prison?” Mistwood Heights narcotics officer Helm leaned over the bowed head of the perp. “They use you for currency. They trade you and pass you around. When they’re done, they beat you.” He stood up.

 

            The perp shook his head. He knew he wouldn’t last for five minutes on Thieves’ Island. “I want to cut a deal.”

 

            Helm chuckled. “A deal? What deal?”

 

            B’ya looked up. “I saw that werewolf attack in Big City last night.”

 

            Helm looked at him for a moment and then took a breath.

 

*

            Officers Gorecki and Tate rolled slowly through Goblin Hill. Tate, from the passenger seat, shined the search light into the dark places between buildings.

 

            “Do they really expect us to try to capture this thing alive?” Gorecki said.

 

            “Those are the orders. They gave us the tranquilizer gun.” Tate said leading out the window.

 

            Gorecki, a fifteen year veteran, chuckled. “There’s too many boneheaded cops for that plan to work. Too many young guys like you who want to flex their muscles. The thing’s dead.”

 

            “What the hell is that supposed to…” Tate’s light fell on a greenish brown mass that swiftly bolted out of the light. “Stop the car. I think I got it.”

 

            A moment later, Gorecki was stepping out of his car and giving a call to dispatch, requesting back up. Tate cocked the tranquilizer gun and walked in the path of the search light toward the alleyway.

 

            Gorecki followed him at a safe distance.

 

            Tate realized that he could see little outside the beam of light.  “Hey Gorecki. Move that light up a bit. A little further into the alley.”

 

            Gorecki turned around and moved to the light. He aimed it up further to give the alley for a better wash. He was stunned when the light revealed an animal, standing on its back legs ripping the throat out of his partner. The creature looked at him and growled.

 

            Gorecki opened fire. The beast bolted.

 

            A moment later the BCPD radio frequency was filled with the terrified voice of the fifteen year veteran screaming; “Officer down! Officer down!”

 

*

            Needless woke to the sound of pounding on his front door. He struggled to get off the couch, knocking over a glass laid on the floor. “Hold on!” He barked. He pulled on the pants lying on the floor and moved to the door.

 

            As the door opened Stack stood staring at him.

 

            “What’s up? I’ve been trying to call for a couple of hours.” Stack said handing Needless a cup of coffee.

 

            “I guess I was pretty out of it.” Needless said.

 

            “There was another attack last night. The thing killed a cop. Apparently they have a guy in lock up in Mistwood Heights who claims he witnessed the first attack, on Eckers. We gotta get up there and take his statement.”

 

            Needless moved away from the door and began searching for some clothes. Stack stepped into the room. He looked around. Clothes, dishes and garbage littered the room.

 

            “Man, this place is a mess.”

 

            Needless trudged into his bedroom. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ve just been out of it lately.”

 

            A minute later Needless emerged, dressed. He sipped his coffee and the two stepped out into the hallway. As they made their way downstairs to the car, they passed a group of small children in their pajamas playing in the hallway.

 

            As the two cops walked out into the early morning air, the children began playing werewolf. Partly because they saw the police. Partly because of the huge claw marks one of them found dug into the banister of the stairway.

 

*

            Vleash returned from the scene of the night’s attack and collapsed into his chair. He tried to steady his mind while he turned on his computer. Officer Tate had been a mess. The wolf hadn’t even fed. It was a straight kill. He logged in and began to check his email.

 

            He couldn’t help feeling vindicated. For years he had been telling the folks at City Hall that the Lyc Division was needed. But the “experts” claimed that werewolf populations were dwindling and moving into more rural settings. That’s enough for the city to yank funding. He knew it was wrong to gloat, so he kept it to himself.

 

            He scanned over the spam offering him cheap pharmaceuticals and finally came to an email from the Assistant Medical Examiner. The preliminary tests on the tissue samples had already provided a match with 90% certainty.

 

            He read further.

 

            His blinked in disbelief. “Oh no.” He muttered.

 

*

            “So, tell us what happened.” Stack said, sitting across the table from B’ya and his public defender.

 

            “Eckers called me and said he wanted to meet. He was out and looking to buy.” B’ya began.

 

            “Fleck?” Needless asked.

 

            “Yeah. So, I made my way down to the alley. My stepbrother lives in one of the adjacent buildings, so I pulled together about 3 ounces and started heading down the fire escape. By the time I got out the window, I heard Eckers talking to somebody. I got near the ground and I see this thing leap out of nowhere on to him. I ducked behind a dumpster.”

 

            Stack jotted down some notes. “You didn’t go to help him?”

 

            “Hell no. The thing was huge and fast. I watched it rip him up. After the thing ripped his throat out, Eckers went limp. I knew he was dead. But then something strange happened.” B’ya looked at his lawyer. The lawyer nodded. “The creature sort of straightened up for a second.”

 

            Needless leaned in. “Straightened up?”

 

            “You know, stood up. Just for a second, and I swear it didn’t have claws anymore. It had hands.”

 

            “You’re telling us it changed back? While you watched?” Stack inquired. “Can you describe The Host?”

 

            “No. It was still a wolf but it had hands. Then it messed with Eckers body for a second and then bolted. I took off and caught the redline out here to Mistwood Heights.”

 

            Needless shook his head. “You’re saying the werewolf tampered with the body?”

 

            “I’m just telling you what I saw.”

 

            “And that’s all he has to tell you.” The lawyer interjected.

 

            Stack and Needless looked at each other.

 

*

            Traffic back from Mistwood Heights was killer. For the sixth straight month the Treacle Freeway was down to one way. It took Stack and Needless nearly two hours to get back to the station. They climbed the steps to Homicide.

 

            “I don’t get it.” Needless said sipping a coffee. “I can only imagine that B’ya must have been pretty high and misread what he saw.”

 

            “There’ll definitely be questions about his testimony, if it ever gets down to that.”

 

            As the two stepped into the office, they became aware the nearly everyone was standing, staring at them. The two glanced at each other, and then back at the office.

 

            “Stack, step away please.” Came a voice.

 

            Stack looked to his left to see Vleash with a gun trained at him. Stack drew his gun and aimed it back.  In a flash, all hell broke loose, as every cop in the place went for his gun and aimed it at the two.

 

            Needless turned around to see the Special Weapons Squad, in full riot gear, move up the stairs, automatic guns trained on him and Stack.

 

            “Vleash, what the hell are you doing?!” Stack bellowed.

 

            “Just put the gun down, and step away from John.”

 

            “What are you talking about?! Put your gun down!”

 

            “It’s him, Stack.” Vleash said.

 

            “Him who? Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?”

 

            “Stack, Needless is the Lycanthrope.”

 

            The room sank in around Needless.

 

            “Are you all crazy!?” Stack shouted.

 

            “Think about it. Eckers was your suspect. The claw marks on your door. Needless, the test on the tissue under his nails were conclusive.” Vleash lowered the gun a bit. “It’s you, John.”

 

            Tension filled the room. Stack shook his head. “Needless is not a werewolf!”

 

            Needless lowered his gun. As stupid as it sounded, it explained a lot. “Actually, Stack, I don’t know. The mornings, waking up naked in my living room...”

 

            Stack looked over his shoulder at Needless. “No. No, man. You’re not.”

 

            Needless looked at him blankly. “I think they might be right, Stack.”

 

            Stack thought for a moment. He looked at Vleash. “What are you going to do with him?”

 

            Vleash looked at Needless. “We just need to take him into custody, to a hospital for observation and testing. I promise you, I will do everything to help him.”

 

            Stack closed his eyes. He lowered his gun and turned. As Needless and Stack stared silently at each other, Special Weapons rushed in and put Needless in custody. Vleash looked at Stack, and led Needless to the van waiting outside.

 

            Stack turned and looked at Breen, who stepped up to him.

 

            “Adam, as unlikely as it seems, I saw the test results. It’s true.” Breen said.

 

            “But did they need the freaking army storming in here to take him?” He looked at all his fellow officers in the room. All Stack could muster was a weak look of disappointment  “And you… I just…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He shook his head and walked out into the street and watched as Needless was put in the back of the back of a protective van.

 

            Stack caught Needless’ eye and again they stared at each other. Vleash helped Needless into the van and took a seat himself. He nodded to Stack and shut the doors. Stack watched as the van pulled away.

 

            He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed to his car.

 

*

            The woman had shoulder length auburn hair, cut so that it framed her aquiline face squarely. As she read, she looked through a pair of half-cut reading glasses. Every few moments she would look up as she finished a line, just as she was taught to do in public speaking courses. Flashes went off, capturing the moment.

 

            “Sgt. D’yen has what is termed as a Dissociative Morphic Disorder. This is a broad term for varying disorders that involve the changing of the musculature, epidermis and personality. Sgt. D’yen suffers from Type B Lycanthropy, which includes a longer term transformation. He is not showing signs of Type C, which involves a permanent transformation. He is lucid, and has no memory of either his transformations, or his acts, while in the lycanthropic state. He is currently undergoing a battery of tests to determine the next course of action in his recovery.” The woman stepped back from the podium and Commissioner Bledsoe stepped up.

 

            “Thank you, Dr. Autumn. Assistant District Attorney Byron Pharlis will now take questions.” Bledsoe said. She then stepped back, and Pharlis stepped forward. Several voices bombarded him. One particular reporter caught his eye. The question was inaudible on television but Pharlis nodded.

 

            “The District Attorney’s Office is waiting for a final report from Dr. Autumn’s clinic before we decide how to prosecute this case.” Pharlis said to the reporter. The reporter followed up with another inaudible question. “At this point I don’t want to speculate on possible charges. These were unspeakable crimes done by a sick man. We might be writing new legislation.” He responded.

 

            “Commissioner Bledsoe!” Came a voice closer to the microphone. Bledsoe leaned in to the podium and listened to the question. “Isn’t it true that Sgt. D’yen has been cited several times during his time with the police for using excessive force, to the point where he is known by the department as ‘Needless Action’.”

 

            Bledsoe swallowed hard. It pained her to answer this question. “Yes. We all know him as Needless Action. However, to balance that statement, he has received many awards for outstanding service, and was one of the lead investigators that help break up the Manzetti Syndicate.” She smiled to the reporter. “He was…is…a zealous officer but a good one.” Someone shouted something from the back of the room. In response Bledsoe shook her head. “No. Sgt. D’yen’s partner, Adam Forray,  has been taken off the case, and will be questioned as part of the investigation. Sgt. Vleash of the Lycanthropy division is now heading up the case.”

 

            “Tucker!” Stack barked across the bar. “Can you switch that?” Tucker nodded and complied. The newscast was on every network, but Tucker managed to find a game show rerun on the satellite. Stack nodded in thanks, and let his arm fall amongst the shot classes and beer mugs that littered the bar in front of him.

 

            Six people down, a goblin, three sheets to the wind, began yelling to anyone who would listen. “Cops! Friggin’ cops!  He’ll get off! They always do.” He said. Stack quietly looked up at Tucker. Tucker leaned in to the goblin patron and spoke. The goblin looked down the bar as Stack looked back at his Moonglow. The goblin chuckled. “Awww that’s too bad! Hey! Hey cop! What’s it like working with the wolf man.” Stack kept his cool through his haze and continued to stare at the glass. The goblin stood up. “He’s not even a man. He’s a lousy half-breed!” The goblin laughed again. “Actually he’s a triple breed I guess. Elf, human, wolf! He’s working on a royal flush.” He laughed too boisterously, and several patrons rolled their eyes at the drunk.

 

            “That’s enough Krik! Leave it alone.” Tucker said trying to diffuse the situation.

 

            Stack dropped one shot glass into another with tight fingers.

 

            Krik  stumbled toward Stack. “Hey cop! Did you have to keep your partner on a leash?”

 

            The goblin suddenly felt himself spin around. He was now facing an unshaven face whose eyes were stabbing into him.

 

            “Krik. Shut that goblin yapper of yours, or I’ll tell your wife you’ve been banging that little chippy in the bookstore.” Smiles said, before he shoved the drunk back onto his barstool. Krik shut up and went back to marinating himself in booze.

 

            A calm settled over the bar as Smiles stepped up to Stack. Stack didn’t look up. “Thanks.” He said.

 

            Smiles sat on the stool next to Stack. He lit a smoke. “I thought I might find you here.”

 

            “I’m assuming you heard.”

 

            Smiles blew out his first mouthful of smoke. “Yeah.”

 

            “It’s not true, Smiles. I know it’s not.”

 

            Smiles put his hand on his friend’s back. “I know.” He motioned to Tucker for the bill. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

 

            Smiles only had to stop his car once on the way to Stack’s place to let the drunk detective vomit out the door onto the curb. The rest of the ride was taken in silence. Smiles pulled up in front of Stack’s apartment building and helped him out the door.

 

            “Come on.” Smiles said, helping his former partner stand.

 

            As the two approached the door, a figure glided from the shadows. Her pale skin shimmered in the moonlight.

 

            “The press have driven by several times, Sgt. Forray.” She said

 

            A sloppy, sad smile appeared on Stack’s face. “Hi Sioux.” He struggled free of Smiles and stood up. “Sioux Vliss, this is my friend Robert Johnson.” He said in a simple introduction. He extended a hand toward Sioux. “This is Sioux. She’s a Medical Examiner with the Coroner’s office. She’s Needless’…” He shrugged unable, in his state, to think of a better term. ”…girlfriend.”

 

            Smiles and Sioux shook hands. With vampire grace she nodded her head. “You’re the one called Smiles. John has spoken of you often.”

 

            Smiles chuckled to himself. “I’m sure he did. Don’t believe a word of it.”

 

            “I think we should go inside in case more reporters turn up.” She said as she turned and moved up the steps to the door.

*

            Needless shivered in the bed. The restraints were tight, and the sheets were too thin. He didn’t know what time it was. He figured it was night as they had shut the lights off. He couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t let himself. He drove his fingernails into his palm and bit down on his tongue to stay awake.

 

            He looked down the length of the bed to the wall facing him. The swirling red and green madness of the painting was still there. No change yet. It must be coming. He heard the IV drip that fed the sedative into his blood click open for a moment and then close again. The urge to sleep would come again soon. He tried with all of his might to keep control.

 

            It was still unreal to him. How could he have this thing inside of him? Then he thought about those mornings, waking up naked in the living room. Tears welled in his eyes. He thought of the bodies. The way they had been ripped apart. He thought of his family. He thought of his mother. She must have heard, he thought. She knows that I killed those people.

 

            His quiet tears gave way to a wail. A wail that echoed along the darkened corridors of the clinic. A wail that seemed to go unnoticed.

 

*

            The Big City morning kicked Stack in the kidneys. His head-wide buzz had dwindled during the night to a pin-prick of pain behind his eyes. He had crashed out in his clothes, which had the perfume of a dozen shots, Smiles’ cigarettes and vomit. He stumbled to the bathroom and took care of business.

 

            He vaguely remembered Charlie and Laura coming over the night before. Was that only last night? They had maintained a blackout in the apartment to thwart the press. They had huddled around his poker table, with only the light from the fish tank allowing them to see each other.

 

            He couldn’t remember the specifics of the discussion, how long the discussion went on, or what day it was. He remembered Smiles talking. ‘There are two conclusions here,’ Smiles had said. ‘One is that Needless is, in fact a werewolf. The other is that some one has gone to considerable trouble to frame him.’

 

            Stack splashed cold water on his face. He pulled on a T-shirt and some jeans and went to the kitchen. There he found a note from Smiles:

 

            “I thought I should leave you this note, in case you don’t remember our conversation last night. Go see if you can visit Needless in the Lycanthropic Research Center and Clinic today. It’s up the hill on Pendant Avenue. We’ll meet at my office tonight.  - J ”

 

            Stack nodded and turned on his coffee pot. It was going to be a long day.

 

*

             Smiles took a last drag and threw the cigarette to the patch of dirt that separated two strips of brown grass. Needless’ apartment building wasn’t the nicest that Smiles had seen, but wasn’t the worst by far. The parking lot was filled with a wide array of cars. From middle class two doors, to older SUVs, down to late model, rusted out boats. Smiles instinctively drew the conclusion that the inhabitants were mostly young. Couples just starting out. First apartments out of the house. The building wasn’t far from the downtown BCU campus, so students were a possibility too.

 

            Smiles frowned. Not really a crowd that would readily remember a ruckus if there was one. Mostly too young to have become busy-bodies yet. There was still hope that Needless lived next to some cranky old bat who watched his every move. Smiles slipped around back. His suspicions about the average age of the occupants was further bolstered by the well used playground area. Young families, he thought.

 

            None of this seemed to fit Smiles’ image of where Needless would live. Somehow he had always figured Needless would live in some singles-only community with a glass top gym you could look down on. He just figured the kid for Alpha Male Housing, not the Family Fun Hour. Smiles mentally smacked his own hand. ‘Bad detective.’ He thought.

 

            The back of Needless’ building created a central courtyard with six other buildings of roughly the same type. It hadn’t been planned this way; the community just grew up this way over the years. A newer, wooden outdoor stair case had replaced what Smiles assumed had been an old fire escape. The effect now was that every apartment had a balcony and a set of back stairs. Smiles straightened his tie and donned his “city inspector” character that always held off curious people, for at least a little while.

 

            He climbed the stairs to Needless’ apartment without incident. He stooped low and peered into the kitchen window. No cops around. He moved to the backdoor and tripped the lock. He quietly stepped into the apartment. He listened for a moment and then moved on.

 

            The apartment was a mess. The dishes had been in the sink for several days. Old newspapers, not even unrolled, were thrown in the corner. He moved into the main room. Clothes littered the floor. There were some empty bottles and some glasses on the table. Smiles lifted a glass and smelled it. He was surprised that it wasn’t alcohol; it was water. He put the glass back on the table.

 

            He stood in the middle of the room for a moment. This is where Needless claimed to wake up every morning. He dropped to his knees and began scanning the floor for hair, blood, anything.

 

 It was then that it dawned on Smiles that it didn’t appear that the police lab boys had been there yet.

 

            He looked at his watch. It wasn’t very late in the morning. They could show up at any moment and, with his luck, would. Smiles’ heart began to race. He stood up. There were no signs of a violent transformation. While it was a mess, it was a typical bachelor mess. Not the mess of an animal lashing out at it surroundings. If someone had been framing him, they didn’t take this step for some reason. Unless Needless left, morphed, and turned back before he came home.

 

            Something wasn’t adding up. Stack had told them that Needless had been having blackouts lately. Drugged? Thought Smiles. How? If Needless was being set up, the offenders would have to wait until he was out cold, come in, strip him down and leave him on the floor. Needless had to believe it himself. Needless wasn’t the kind of guy who would let somebody slip him something. He went to the kitchen. There was nothing in the fridge that could have been drugged. His kitchen looked like Needless had been eating out for a while. Fast food bags. They couldn’t drug him that way. How would they know where he was going?

 

            ‘No,’ thought Smiles, ‘there’s something here that did it. Something that drugged him unknowingly.’

 

            Smiles’ luck was right on time. He heard voices in the hall outside.

 

            “I don’t have the keys.” Said one voice.

 

            “I’ll go get the super.” Said another.

 

            Smiles jumped and looked around. He didn’t have much time. He had to get the proof, before the department got their hands on it. Something here. Something in here. If he was going to repeatedly drug someone, he thought, how would he do it?  Smiles looked at the darker side of his mind. If a drugging like this was going to take place, there would have to be some assurance that it would work. It would be something that the victim would use every day.  Toothpaste? Mouthwash? Soap? No, there would have to be ingestion.

 

            His eyes fell on the faucet-attached water purifier. He raced into the other room and snatched the glass of water he had found on the table. It was a long shot, but worth a try. He heard the voices return outside the front door of the apartment as he hurried to the back door. He slipped out just as the boys from the crime lab came in. 

 

            Smiles slipped out the back and shut the door just as the door shut behind the cops. Maybe his luck was changing.

 

*

            “The city decided to privatize Lycanthropic diagnosis and treatment a few years ago.” Dr. Autumn smiled. “It was a very wise move. It signaled a change from the shoot and dissect mentality that existed for years. We can find out more about this disease by working to heal living victims, rather than cut up dead ones.”

 

            Stack nodded. “This because of the Tronnage thing about ten years ago?”

 

            “Exactly. The inhumanity brought out in that case went a long way toward the understanding and treatment of this affliction.  It’s something that the city doesn’t have the time or money to train for. So here I am.” Dr. Autumn stopped. They stood at the junction of the longer hallway and a shorter one.

 

            The building itself was an older building. Probably an old insurance office, Stack thought. Two levels. The Clinic had only been open a short time.  Dr. Autumn had explained that before she came, the procedure was to ship the victims out into the suburbs for treatment. Needless was the only patient at the moment.

 

            Stack looked at his shoes. “Dr. Autumn, what are John’s chances of kicking this?”

 

“Sgt. Forray, your partner is very sick. I don’t want to misrepresent the odds of treating him. We lose more than we cure. That’s where this science is right now.”

 

            “What happens to patients that progress to Type C and never change back?” Stack took a deep breath.

 

            Dr. Autumn cradled her clipboard close to her as she spoke. “Well, there have been some private refuges built around the country. They are pretty expensive. Usually, “ she looked up into Stack’s face, “they’re put down and burned.”  Nothing more was said. She led him to the door. “He’s been given a steady dosage of a sedative, so he’s pretty groggy.”

 

            Stack looked at her. “Did anything happen last night?”

 

            “Yes. He had a rather violent morphic episode last night. He destroyed the room, but he was contained. The security camera caught the whole thing. Sgt. Vleash was sent a copy of the tape.” She stopped at the door. “I should warn you, Sgt. Forray, the room might still be a bit of a mess after last night.”

 

            “You didn’t move him to another room?”