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Nexus Cycle
Ch.12 wolfman

Ch.12 wolfman

The visitor

The late afternoon sky was streaked with orange and purple as Elmore stood at the edge of his property, watching the sun begin to dip behind the mountains. The cool breeze brought with it the scent of pine and damp earth. It had been a good year, all things considered. The crops were growing steadily, Edward was thriving, and Ash seemed at peace. For a moment, Elmore allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

But there was a tension in the air today, something unsettling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

The past year had been rough for the world, but here, nestled deep in rural Appalachia, they had managed to keep out of the worst of it. Looters and roving gangs had become a distant but real threat, and the military had been tightening its grip on the major highways. Their small town was still hanging on, but fewer people were around now, and more than a few houses were abandoned. Elmore had spent more than one night awake, listening for any unusual sounds, ready to protect his family at a moment’s notice.

His thoughts drifted back to his Nexus. His intelligence boost had been a game-changer, giving him a new perspective on how to approach the world’s dangers. But even with all his new knowledge, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was about to go wrong.

A sharp crack echoed from the woods, snapping him out of his thoughts. He froze, ears straining. It wasn’t a twig or a falling branch. No, this sound was deliberate.

Gunfire.

Elmore’s heart raced as he reached instinctively for the shotgun strapped to his back. The shot wasn’t close, but it was close enough. He quickly scanned the tree line, his pulse thundering in his ears. There was no movement, no immediate sign of danger, but he knew better than to trust the quiet. Whoever fired that shot was out there, and they weren’t hunting game.

He turned on his heel and jogged back to the house, his boots kicking up dust as he hurried. The shotgun’s weight was comforting against his shoulder, but his mind raced with possibilities. Was it looters? A gang? Had the military finally come through? Or worse—had they sent someone looking for people like him?

Ash was inside, humming softly as she prepared dinner, while Edward played on the floor with his blocks. The etchings on the block had grown more intricate over the past few months, but Elmore hadn’t mentioned it to Ash. It was one more thing he didn’t understand yet.

As he burst through the front door, Ash looked up, concern immediately flashing across her face. “Elmore? What’s wrong?”

“We need to lock down the house,” he said, his voice steady but urgent. “I heard gunshots from the woods.”

Ash’s eyes widened, and she quickly set the knife down. “How far?”

“Far enough, but we can’t take any chances. Just in case.” He knelt down to Edward, brushing his hand over the boy’s hair. “Hey, buddy. Why don’t you go help Mommy pack up some things, okay? We’re going to have a little adventure.”

Edward giggled, oblivious to the tension in the room, and waddled over to Ash, clutching the block tightly in his small hand.

As Ash gathered supplies, Elmore moved through the house with swift precision, securing the windows and checking the ammo stockpile he had tucked away in the pantry. His mind worked at a rapid pace, calculating routes, defenses, and what he’d do if things went sideways.

The first shot might have been distant, but if there were more to follow, they’d come closer. And if whoever was out there had Nexus powers—or worse, were hunting people with them—this could escalate quickly.

He returned to Ash, who had packed a small bag with essentials. She had that determined look in her eyes, the one she got when things were about to get serious. “If we need to run, where do we go?”

“up the road, towards Dad’s place,” Elmore replied. “But we’re not running unless we have to. For now, we stay put and wait.”

As the evening crept closer, the air outside grew heavy with tension. Elmore set up his shotgun by the front window, peering out at the treeline as the shadows lengthened. The woods were dense, and anyone could be hiding there. His heightened intelligence helped him strategize, but nothing could prepare him for the gut instinct that told him something worse was coming.

Suddenly, the sound of branches breaking reached his ears—this time, closer. Footsteps, crunching through the underbrush. Slow. Deliberate.

He gripped the shotgun tighter, heart pounding in his chest. "Ash," he whispered, barely turning his head. "Take Edward and stay low. Don’t come out unless I say so."

Ash didn’t argue. She scooped up their son and retreated to the far side of the house, ducking behind the couch.

Elmore’s eyes were fixed on the treeline now, scanning for any sign of movement. And then, through the thickening twilight, he saw it—a figure stepping out from the woods. Large. Hulking. The figure moved awkwardly, its body twisted in a way that was anything but natural. As it drew closer, Elmore’s stomach sank.

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Elmore crouched low by the window, his shotgun resting on the windowsill as he peered into the twilight. A dark purple sky hung over the horizon, casting eerie shadows over the brush that surrounded his property. The fog rolled in thick and low, blanketing the ground and distorting his vision. His pulse quickened as he caught sight of movement.

A figure stepped out from the brush—a man, staggering slightly, dressed in tattered clothing with small, puncture-like wounds scattered across his body. Even from this distance, Elmore could see the injuries healing before his eyes, knitting together at an unnatural speed. The man appeared normal enough otherwise, though he moved cautiously, like someone who knew he was being hunted.

Elmore raised his shotgun, aiming at the man as he stopped a few yards away. The stranger froze when he saw the barrel pointed in his direction, his hands slowly raising in the universal sign of surrender.

"What’s your business here?" Elmore called out, his voice firm but not aggressive. "And what was that gunfire earlier?"

The man glanced nervously over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to emerge from the shadows at any moment. “I... I’m running, man,” he stammered, his voice filled with desperation. “Some freaks—they’re after me. I got into a bar fight, and I... I used my powers when I shouldn’t have. They want me dead for it.”

Elmore’s grip tightened on the shotgun. The man didn’t look like a threat, but appearances could be deceiving these days. The puncture marks on his body, the rapid healing—he had a Nexus, no doubt. That made him dangerous, regardless of how normal he tried to appear.

The man took a hesitant step forward, his hands still raised. “Look, I’m not some mutant freak like they show on TV,” he pleaded. “I didn’t kill anybody—I just hurt someone in the fight. I didn’t mean to. I’m just trying to survive.”

Elmore considered his words, his mind racing. The man seemed genuine, but the world had grown darker and more complicated in the past year. Trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford easily. Before he could respond, he heard it—footsteps, off in the distance, crunching through the underbrush. More than one set, and they were getting closer.

The man’s eyes widened in fear. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “I’ve got nowhere else to go. If they catch me, they’ll kill me.”

Elmore’s instincts flared. He glanced toward the sound of the approaching group, then back at the stranger. Something told him the man wasn’t lying, but helping him could bring trouble to his doorstep.

“There’s a shed,” Elmore said, jerking his head toward the trees. “About fifty yards off in the brush. Haven’t used it since I was a kid, but it’s got metal walls and a metal door. There's a combination lock on it. The code is 3461. Hide there.”

The man’s eyes lit up with hope. “Thank you,” he whispered, before turning and bolting toward the shed, disappearing into the fog just as the footsteps grew louder.

Moments later, five men emerged from the brush, all carrying rifles but not raising them. They were tense, scanning the area as if they were hunting something. One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a grizzled beard, stepped forward, eyeing Elmore with suspicion.

“You see a guy come through here?” the bearded man asked, his voice low and gravelly. “He’s dangerous. Got powers. Bar fight gone wrong, and we’ve been tracking him ever since.”

Elmore kept his expression neutral, resting the shotgun against his shoulder. “Haven’t seen anyone,” he lied. “Just me out here.”

The men exchanged glances, clearly not entirely convinced. The bearded leader stepped closer, peering around the property, his eyes narrowing as though he could sense something was off. “If you see him,” he said, his tone carrying a veiled threat, “you let us know. Men like him don’t belong out here, roaming free. They’re a danger to everyone.”

Elmore gave a slow nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The group lingered for a moment longer before they turned and headed back into the brush, their figures swallowed by the fog. Elmore stood still, waiting until the last sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance before he finally exhaled.

He lowered his shotgun, glancing toward where the man had disappeared. He’d bought the stranger some time, but how long before those men came back, or worse, brought reinforcements?

For now, though, Elmore had made his choice.

Elmore sat at the window all night, eyes locked on the dark brush beyond the yard. He expected exhaustion to creep in, but strangely, it didn’t. His body felt alert, sharp, as though sleep was a luxury he no longer needed, or at least not like before. It was unsettling, but he welcomed it. There was too much at stake to let his guard down now.

The low hum of night insects began to fade as the first hints of dawn appeared, casting the landscape in a soft gray light. Soon enough, the house stirred behind him. Ash was up, and he could hear Edward's babbling as Ash moved about, preparing breakfast. When the sun finally broke through the horizon, Elmore stood, his muscles still tense from a night of waiting.

He found Ash in the kitchen, pouring herself some coffee. Her eyes met his, and she immediately sensed his mood. "Everything okay?" she asked softly.

Elmore nodded, keeping his voice calm. "Yeah. Just think it’s best if you and Edward head down to Dad’s place for a bit. Might be safer there."

Ash glanced at him, then at Edward, who was chewing on some meat at the table. Without a word, she understood what he meant. She didn’t argue or ask questions. They had lived through enough uncertainty to know when to trust his instincts.

"I’ll get our things," she said, moving with quiet efficiency.

Elmore walked with them down the old country road, his shotgun slung over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any movement in the trees. When they neared his father's junkyard, he stopped and watched as Ash and Edward made their way to the gate.

“Be careful,” Ash said, looking back one last time.

“I will. I’ll check on you soon.”

As they disappeared into the distance, Elmore turned on his heel and made his way back toward the shed. He approached the metal door, pausing for a moment to listen. All seemed quiet inside. Slowly, he turned the combination lock and pulled the door open, the hinges creaking loudly.

Inside, the man from the night before was sprawled on the floor, completely unconscious. Elmore stepped in, the sound of his boots scraping against the floorboards startling the man awake. In an instant, the stranger leaped to his feet, eyes wide and glowing faintly in the dim light. His fingers elongated into sharp claws, and patches of hair sprouted from his arms and face. His canines extended into sharp fangs, and his posture shifted, becoming more animalistic, like a predator ready to strike.

Elmore stood his ground, the shotgun still resting at his side.

The stranger's wild eyes scanned him, tense and ready to attack. But as recognition dawned on him, the wolfish features began to fade. His claws retracted, the hair receding, and his posture returned to something more human. After a beat of silence, Elmore raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“So... you a wolfman or something?”

The man blinked, then let out a surprised laugh. "Yeah, something like that. Got this weird werewolf-like power. Always loved dogs, raised 'em my whole life... I guess that's what my Nexus thought I needed more of—however this shit works."

Elmore nodded, not entirely surprised. Powers seemed to manifest in ways tied to people’s lives or personalities, though no one fully understood how. "Well, it’s better than some of the things I’ve seen.”

The man scratched the back of his neck, sheepish now. “Thanks for not... ya know, putting me down. A lot of folks would have.”

Elmore shrugged. "Figured you weren’t gonna be much of a problem."

The man sighed, leaning back against the wall, clearly relieved. “Where I’m from, though, people aren’t so understanding. They’ve been tracking me since Boone County."

Elmore frowned. "Boone County? That’s an hour and a half drive from here. Surprised they followed you that long.”

“Me too,” the man said, shaking his head. “But once they saw what I could do, well, people don’t forget that. It spreads fast. No way I can go back. Folks there know I’m one of those HomoNexus or whatever they’re calling us on TV. Can’t trust anyone now.”

Elmore looked the man over. There was weariness in his voice, a kind of resignation that came with knowing you no longer had a place in the world you once called home.

“So... what now?” the man asked, looking at Elmore for guidance.

Elmore didn’t have an immediate answer. He glanced out the door, thinking of his family and the tenuous safety they had carved o

ut here. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And now, they were living in a world where survival meant making hard choices, taking risks.