A feeling of weightlessness preceded the strong pull of gravity. Deacon managed to twist in mid-air and held one of the wolves out under him. A few moments later, when they crashed into the ground, he managed to land on top of the wolf, landing with such force that the wolf broke through the pavement which cracked under the weight. The other wolf thrashed against him, but Deacon’s new powerful instincts took over and caught the leaping monster canine. With a vicious snarl, Deacon gripped the wolf by the throat and tore with his new powerful claws, causing an explosion of blood to smear him and the street. He tossed the lifeless giant dog aside.
The fall had scrambled his senses for a moment, but he discovered a boon to this transformation, he seemed much more durable than an average person. The fall alone would have certainly killed him under normal circumstances, let alone the multiple scratches and bites he suffered from the attack dogs. With the FBI men and the last wolf high above him on the top story of the parking garage, he took off running down the street. He thought about how silver bullets were supposed to stop werewolves, but did that apply to were Tasmanian devils also? Maybe a silver boomerang would kill him?
Traffic came to a screeching halt as he came back into the open. Pedestrians along the street screamed and panicked, fleeing for their lives from the monster mash that had crashed to the sidewalk from the rooftops above. Deacon was already two blocks away from the garage before he noticed the last of his pursuers about to overtake him in four-legged wolf form. Deacon was taken by surprise at the speed the final wolf had managed to close the distance from the top of the garage to him. As it came up within a few strides from him, the Jurassic sized wolf let loose a growling bark and pounced.
His sharp pointed ears gave Deacon ample warning, and time seemed to slow down momentarily as he spun to greet his attacker. The wolf might have been extraordinarily quick, but so was he, the cab driver discovered. He spun to avoid the lunging snapping jaws coming at him. He found himself letting loose his own supernatural noises, a wailing, snarling howl before his own massive jaws found the creature’s throat.
They were both surprised by what happened next. A wild Tasmanian Devil weighed in at around 18 pounds and had a bite force of around 200PSI, which paled in comparison to a full-grown wolf or bear, but pound for pound was incredible. In his current state of probably close to four hundred pounds, Deacon’s bite force scaled directly, which meant close to a whopping 4400 pounds per square inch. In comparison, a full-grown polar bear had around 1200 pounds per square inch. When his powerful jaws snapped closed, they severed right through the wolf’s spinal cord, his head thrashed once and tore out what was left of the wolf’s throat. He relaxed his jaws, letting the limp body of the giant wolf fall to the ground and spat a chunk of flesh and blood to the ground.
A few moments later Deacon was coming around a busy corner, and ran into a frightened, wide-eyed Zoe, who initially shrank in fear at his sudden appearance. It was the first time she had seen him like this, and she was partly relieved she found him, but stared in awe at what he’d become.
“Deacon?” Zoe asked warily.
The beastman wearing a leather jacket nodded back, looming over her. The two stared at each other for a long moment, her mind worked hard to process what she was now seeing.
Deacon could still hear pursuers in the distance, but a more immediate concern presented itself. Several police cars came screaming in with wailing sirens and flashing lights. They were coming in from several different directions and a voice from a loudspeaker was telling people to clear the area.
Deacon did his best to smile at Zoe, and though the gesture would have come across as threatening to anyone else as a line of razor-sharp teeth appeared behind the wide powerful maw, she smiled back.
“It is you! Incredible!” She said breathlessly.
“Gotta go.” He nodded his head towards the police cars, two of them squealed to a stop to block off the street.
“The others are in trouble.” Zoe blurted.
Several policemen were getting out of their cars, and to Deacon’s shock, some of them began opening fire. He dove in front of Zoe without a second thought and leaned over to protect her with his own body. He felt dozens of little stinging pellets bounce off his fur and his keen ears could hear the shotgun BBs falling to the pavement all around him.
Deacon scooped up the cowering young girl under his arm and bounded the opposite direction. He frowned when he saw several police cars forming a blockade down this street also. With a snarl, Deacon ducked low in a football stance, charging the blockade’s rotating flashing lights. His eyes caught sight of some of the officers within their vehicles as their eyes went wide in fear at the snarling monster charging them, some of them left their vehicles hastily, others fumbled with their firearms. None were prepared for the blinding speed of the hulking monster. He dropped his shoulder low and charged straight through the police cars, smashing them aside as easily as though they were simply large toys.
Behind the police cars lay a row of beeping traffic stretching down the street. Deacon continued his advance, bounding and leaping over and on top of the cars. He pushed his new leg muscles faster as a whole fleet of police cars began turning around to chase after him.
* * * *
The melee had been short and furious. Carlos, Mario and Nate had not gone down without a strong accounting of themselves. But in the end, even with the injuries they had caused to their foes, their numbers were too much to handle for long. Each of them now had several jocks holding them down and no matter how hard they kicked and thrashed; they could not overpower multiple men at once.
One among the jocks seemed to enjoy the power he now held over the three Southsiders. He was a tall good looking blonde, probably born into wealth, friends and all the girls he wanted at any given time. His cocky swagger as he paced in front of the trio was infuriating to the three rebels. He walked between them with a baseball bat resting over his shoulder.
“You pieces of trash thought you could fight us? You lowlife pieces of shit actually thought you were good enough on any level to step to us? You see Miles? This is like what I was talking about the other day…” One of the other yuppies nodded in agreement…Miles presumably “…these poor Southsider punks are starting to take over. Before long, the Loop and the Northside will be swarming with them if someone doesn’t do something about it. Somebody has to teach ‘em their place if we want to keep the nice areas safe for decent people.”
“I know my place.” Mario said through dangerously angry eyes while three men held him down. “It’s next to your mother in bed every night after you go to sleep punk.”
The angry leader stalked between them shaking his head as he took the bat from his shoulder and wrenched the handle in his hands. He swung suddenly and hit Mario’s leg. Mario cried out in pain.
“Ah fuck! You fucker!” He tried to contort his body which wanted to writhe in pain, but the others holding him down would not allow it. They chuckled at his attempts to free himself.
“Now, who’s next?” The leader of the jocks pointed the baseball bat at each of the three Southsiders as he passed by them again. “I need to make an example out of one of you, the rest get a pass. Let’s see how tough you little goons really are.”
He stopped in front of Carlos and held the bat up as if he were preparing to strike.
“What about you? Choose now, who do I smash?”
“Smash your mom for all I care, my brother did…” Carlos began but stopped when the bat hit the pavement inches from his head.
The jock quickly moved to Nate next.
“And what about you? Would you take the hit for the rest of your team? Or would you sell them out? Who should I hit?”
“Fuck…you.” Nate managed to growl, though one of his restrainers was holding him in a headlock making it hard to breathe.
“I guess that leaves this little piece of turd.” The crowd of jocks laughed at the insult. The tall blonde moved last to Mario and began preparing a strike with the baseball bat.
“Fuck you, asshole, hit me! Leave him alone!” Carlos yelled, trying to save his little brother.
“Too late jerkoff…” The jock raised the ballbat and began to swing it down, aimed for Mario’s face.
But the swing was interrupted by a snarl and a shriek that did not sound like anything that came from this Earth. The jock froze in place and began looking for whatever made the noise.
“Did you hear that? What was it?” One of the other jocks holding down Nate asked the others.
“Mario. They wanted Deacon, it sounds like they’re about to get him.” Carlos called over in Spanish with a laugh.
“If he’s still a rat monster they probably won’t want him.” Mario returned, also in Spanish.
Suddenly some of the jocks standing behind the leader began disappearing into the blackness of the night beyond the headlights that were shining on the scene. A monstrous dark shadow loomed menacingly behind the jock holding the baseball bat and a low rumbling growl finally drew his attention behind him. When he turned and saw a giant were-creature behind him, he screamed like a girl and swung the bat.
Deacon caught the bat as easily as an adult would catch a wiffleball bat from a toddler. After snatching it from the human’s grasp, he then snapped it like a small twig. As the man screamed and fled for his life into the night, Deacon suddenly realized he had seen him before. He thought hard, wracking his brain to remember where he had seen this man before. It eventually came to him, after he stepped forward with a barking yowl that scared the rest of the jocks away, scattering them like fall leaves into a deep wind.
As Carlos, Mario and Nate all rose from the cold ground, a memory replayed in Deacon’s mind. He remembered passing by that jock in a car, he had been wearing cool guy sunglasses at the time. Then his stomach sank as he remembered that the guy standing there with the baseball bat was the same guy that he had seen several days ago with Sarah.
“Ah shit!” Deacon’s growling animalistic voice ejected. “That was the fuckin’ guy that took Sarah!”
“You shoulda bit his stupid looking head off.” Mario remarked while Carlos helped him to his feet. The baseball bat had done damage to his leg for sure, but they were testing it to see if he could put weight on it, to see if anything was broken, or if it was just severely bruised.
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Carlos began patting his long, slicked back pompadour hairstyle, which had been mussed during the tussle.
“It wouldn’t have been any worse than that haircut.” He laughed. “I’d rather not have a head than have that stupid looking cut.”
“He looked like that one gringo we used to bully in high school.” Mario said. Carlos laughed when he brought up the incident.
“Yeah, I remember that dumb fucker. He used to have a Kiss bumper sticker on his jacket.”
“What kind of idiot wears bumper stickers on their coat?”
While the two brothers were laughing at their old memories from high school, Deacon was helping Nate back to his feet. Zoe was now there with them as well, having come out of her hiding place as soon as the men had all fled. The parking lot was all but deserted, though a few gawkers across the street were watching in awe.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Nate responded. “A little beat up but I’ll live.” He did have many bruises on his face, but Deacon chose not to call attention to that fact just then. They had all been battered that night.
The group now walked back to the Cadillac, and with Zoe’s help, Deacon was able to fish out his keys from his coat pocket, which his hands no longer fit inside. A new problem presented itself then, and it was one they all realized as they reached the car.
“Are you going to be able to drive like that?” Nate asked Deacon.
Deacon reached in and slid the driver’s seat all the way back. He would need much more room than he normally would use, but besides being much larger, heavier and having bigger hands that ended in sharp claws, was there any reason he could not successfully operate his motor vehicle?
“I wonder what the legal point of view is here.” Deacon mused in front of the car while the rest of the group piled into the back seat. “I’m still me, but I don’t match my license anymore.”
“And is this the same as letting your dog try to drive? That’s illegal y’know. Animals can’t drive cars.” Mario pointed out from the back seat.
“I’m not a dog.” Deacon murmured. “Nate, you wanna drive?”
“I can drive, unlike these mooks, as in…I know how.” Nate pointed at Mario and Carlos on either side of him in the back. “But my license is still revoked remember?”
“What’s a mook? You’re a fuckin’ mook.” Mario returned.
“Shit, I can probably make this happen but…am I really the only one in our group here besides Brian DiMarco that can drive?”
“Fuck Brian Dimarco.” Carlos added.
“He’s a fuckin’ mook.” Mario added with a crooked grin.
“I can drive.” Zoe announced, bringing the rest of the car’s attention to bear squarely on her. LA was a much different place than Chicago, and it was weird to her that so many of them could not drive.
“You can drive?” Nate asked.
“Yeah.” Zoe responded defiantly. “I got my license. Just because I can afford chauffeurs and sometimes use them doesn’t mean I don’t drive myself.”
“It’s not like he’ll be able to take the El like that…” Carlos pointed out. The thought of a large were Tasmanian devil riding the “L” train was interesting.
Deacon’s comically oversized yellow eyes blinked a few times and said not another word. He got out of the driver’s side and walked around to the other side to switch positions with her. Zoe got behind the wheel and first had to adjust the seat positioning before putting the long Cadillac into drive and pulled out through the parking lot.
“You ever drove in Chicago before?” Deacon asked.
“No. What’s the difference?” Zoe shrugged.
This brought a laugh from everyone in the car.
“Oh God, we’re all gonna die.” Mario laughed.
“We aren’t gonna die dummy.” Deacon snapped over his shoulder to the back seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll coach you. But be prepared and drive aggressively.”
* * * *
Zoe was ill prepared for the harrowing experience that was driving in downtown Chicago. Everybody drove way too fast, way too close to each other, and nobody was afraid to risk their car by pulling right out in front of someone with little to no warning. On top of the crazy and aggressive drivers, Zoe soon had another condition she had to contend with. It began snowing soon after pulling out of the commuter lot. This frightened her much more than the traffic or other drivers. Los Angeles got little snowfall and she was not used to driving in the rapidly deteriorating conditions. She was determined to persevere though; she was not the type of girl to give up easily.
Deacon did his best to stay true to his word, coaching her through every lane change, turn and street. Zoe had never considered before this experience just how much skill it took to be a cab driver in big city traffic like this, as he was able to tell her well in advance every move she needed to make, and even in several instances predicted the behavior of other drivers as well, keeping her attention focused where it needed to be and avoiding dangers she never would have seen coming. That included the road construction that she had not noticed in the last few days, not until she had herself got behind the wheel.
“Why did I not notice all this construction the last few days? It’s everywhere!”
The giant maw of the creature next to her spread a sharklike grin.
“I’m a professional, I always know where it is and how to avoid the worst of it. But right now, getting to South Shore, we’ll have to pass through some of it.”
Zoe also marveled at the other drivers in traffic and their varied reaction to the large monster sitting in the passenger seat. Many of them were honking and waving, obviously thinking it was a stunt or a Halloween costume, even though there was no mask on Earth advanced enough to realistically breath and blink. Many people looked shocked or scared as well, but none of them fled for their lives like they did when he was walking around on the street. Many people refused to look over at all when they were stopped alongside them in traffic.
Deacon managed to successfully guide the young woman to the run-down South Shore neighborhood along the lakefront. She seemed more disgusted and frightened of this neighborhood than she had earlier at Deacon’s part of town. Both were extremely poor and rough neighborhoods, but he did not blame her for this. Her rough and tumble passengers were the only thing that seemed to be comforting her through the drive.
The car drove past a lonely row of crumbling, abandoned buildings and a few groups of dangerous-looking gang members hanging out on the corners before nearing their destination. They eventually came to a row of Brownstown styled townhouses, before a large field of urban blight stretched before them, a space where the wilderness was beginning to rise up and overtake the long neglected abandoned properties.
A set of train tracks ran between both sides of the street here, and all the streetlights had been burned out and broken. On the right-hand side of the street was a stretch of woods, and they came upon a familiar Chrysler Reliant parked in a patch of gravel along the side of the road.
“Pull up behind him.” Deacon instructed.
“Yeah pull up behind that piece of shit car.” Mario laughed. “Crash into it.”
“I can’t believe that idiot thought to park back here instead of pulling right up outside the place.” Nate remarked.
“Fuckin’ Brian Dimarco.” Carlos hissed while shaking his head.
When Zoe parked behind the other car, Mario, Carlos and Deacon all popped open their doors at once. As soon as the dome light came on inside of the Cadillac, Deacon froze before getting out. Zoe was looking over at him in shock.
“What?” He asked. Did he somehow mutate into something even more frightening and grotesque? But he noticed that his voice was no longer as deep or growling.
Deacon looked down at his hands and saw skin underneath the black leather fingerless gloves. Plain white Caucasian skin. He quickly adjusted the rearview mirror to see his reflection. It was just as he had feared, he was now normal again.
“What the fuck man?” Mario slapped his shoulder from the back seat before getting out.
“Aw man, what did you do?” Asked Carlos. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”
“I dunno, what the hell?” Deacon exited the vehicle, feeling his face and head with his hands. He immediately noticed the difference when he got out and stood next to the car. At his normal height of about 5’7”-5’8”, he had felt short in some situations when around groups of men six foot and taller, but he had always felt an adequate height, a normal height. But now he suddenly saw himself the way all the bullies he had ever fought against saw him. Short. He also felt the drastic weight difference. He had gone from about four hundred pounds or so back to about a buck sixty.
“I am a runt!” He exclaimed.
Carlos walked by him and laughed, and the others joined in. Carlos was no giant but at about 5’10 he was used to looking down on his friend.
“That’s what we’ve been saying for years, dipshit. Hurry up and turn back into the giant rat.” He paused to unroll his white T-shirt’s short sleeve to retrieve a hard pack of cigarettes and lit one up.
Mario was the only one in the group that was close to the same size as Deacon. He was probably slightly taller, but it was by a negligible amount, most of it due to the chunky black combat boots he wore.
“Yeah quit fuckin’ around dipshit.” Mario slapped his brother’s chest, and the older brother handed him a cigarette before rolling the pack back into his sleeve. The brothers had a tight knit relationship and seemed to know what the other was thinking or wanting without needing to say it out loud.
“C’mon turn back into the monster!” Nate said after sliding out of the car.
“I dunno how! I don’t know how I did it to begin with.”
“Well, you probably did it last night for the first time when those men were beating you up. That’s why you blacked out and couldn’t remember anything.” Zoe mused, swiping her hand through the air to fan the clouds of cigarette smoke. “But the real question is, why could you control it this time and not the other?”
Deacon and Nate both lit their own cigarettes, and they both seemed lost in thought, pondering that very question. The other three members of their group were getting out of Brian DiMarco’s car and coming over to meet up.
“Well, it was night both times, and it’s still night so…” Deacon began.
“Hey guys, got a cigarette?” Brian DiMarco asked as he approached with Ian and Jermaul behind him. He still looked pretty beat up.
“Fuck you, Brian DiMarco.” Came the response from Carlos, Mario, Deacon, and Nate simultaneously.
“Get a fuckin’ job you loser.” Mario added as his face contorted in disgust.
“Slob.” Carlos added.
Zoe had been leaning close to Deacon, using him as a shield in the dangerous neighborhood, but she leaned in even closer to whisper. “Why do you guys give him such a hard time?”
“Fuck Brian DiMarco.” Deacon replied absently while still lost in thought. The reply seemed to be almost automatic. And that was the only explanation she received, but he said it as if it were all the explanation that was needed.
“Hey Brian DiMarco, tell your mom to stop sniffing my socks.” Mario said with either real, or very well feigned anger.
“I saw his mom under the Expressway trying to sell a steering wheel.” Jermaul, who was the tallest and most athletic of all the friends returned with a barking laugh. “Look, she’s so dumb, she couldn’t pass a blood test.”
“Her teeth so yellow she smiled, and traffic slowed down.” Ian chimed in with a snorting laugh. “Brian DiMarco mom so old her Social Security number is four.”
“Oh, you guys wanna joan?” Brian DiMarco put his hands on his hips and faced the others.
“Nah holmes, we been joanin’, you been stinkin’. You so stupid you thought a quarterback was a refund.” Ian returned.
“Oh yeah guys? Well you…” The dim-witted man began but was quickly cut off.
“Save your breath for your date tonight, Brian DiMarco.” Nate chimed in.
“Brian DiMarco ass so ugly, when he was born, they didn’t know which end to put the diaper on!” Ian said excitedly. “They tinted the windows on his incubator!”
“Yeah, the only thing about him that’s positive is his HIV.” Jermaul added.
“Guys, stop for a minute.” Deacon gave the others an annoyed look. “We can make fun of Brian DiMarco’s stupid ass anytime, right now I’m trying to think.”
“Maybe it was stress related?” Zoe thought out loud while watching him, ignoring the others’ childish behavior.
“Yeah, maybe that’s it.” Deacon pointed at her.
“Well come on let’s get this show on the road stupid.” Mario barked. “Hurry up and turn back into the monster so we can get this over with.”
“If it’s stress related just think about your bleak future.” Jermaul patted Ian’s chest with a giggle.
“No, I think I can do this, I just need some stress. Carlos?” Deacon motioned for his friend to come over. “Hit me.”
“You want me to fucking hit you?” Carlos asked skeptically.
“Yeah, do it. Fuck it.”
Carlos shrugged, balled up a fist and punched Deacon, who made no move to evade. It knocked him on his ass, but a moment later as Nate and Zoe helped him to his feet, he had not changed and only had a ringing in his ears and a busted, bleeding lip to show for it.
“Look guys, we’ll just have to go in there and hope for the best.” Nate spoke to the others.
“What if they got guns?” Mario blew a line of smoke into the air. “I ain’t afraid to fight a bunch of Jamaicans but if they got guns this is gonna get stupid.”
“We’ll have to deal with that when it comes.” Nate responded. “Maybe if they shoot at us, fart knocker here will bring back the rat monster.”
“You guys realize it’s not a rat, right? It’s a Tasmanian Devil.” Zoe said.
“Whatever.” Nate snapped his fingers, and the others began to follow him.
“Stay here.” Deacon put out his hands to stop Zoe. “This might get rough, but I’ll get your friend back, I promise. Keep the keys and stay here. If we aren’t back in a half hour or so, then go back to your hotel and I guess pay the ransom and continue with whatever plan you had before I came along.”
Zoe frowned but knew there wasn’t much she could do to argue at this point.
“Stop playin!” Ian’s voice sounded from up ahead as he pushed Carlos.
“Wait!” Zoe spoke loudly as Deacon turned to follow the others. He stopped and looked back at her. The girl’s eyes were large and worried. “Be careful.”
Deacon flashed a roguish half-smile and ran to catch up with the others. They approached the abandoned school that the man had told them the Jamaicans were using as a hideout earlier cautiously. Zoe watched the figures disappear into the shadows down the street and then they were gone. And she was alone. She looked around and a shudder went down her spine as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. She ran around and got back into the car, slapping all the door locks down.