“Like plows for farming. They would make various weapons for fighting. Some of our craftsman made guns and other high-tech stuff like radios.” Mr. Davis stopped and looked William in the face. “What, are you surprised that we shape shifters would have things like technology?” His voice took on a harsh, sarcastic, biting tone. “Did you really think that we would live like you used to, in a dug-out burrow out in the middle of the forest? Or did you think that we all live like Tasha and her ilk, out in the forest with no ties to family or technology? You think that we live like animals and cared for nothing but the hunt and ourselves? We used to live in comfort here. This was our city. We lived and worked and grew old here. We did not bury our face in the dirt and try to ignore the outside world. We have to hide from the world out of necessity, not because we want to.” Mr. Davis sneered, “you have a lot to learn, pup.”
Mr. Davis stalked off down the street and turned to his right following an unseen off shoot of the street they were on. Ares stood at William’s side and didn’t move till he did. William noticed that Ares tail still had that same relaxed posture, neither drooping but not upright either. Ares seemed very much at home here and William wondered if there was anything that could unsettle the massive eight-foot-tall werewolf standing next to him.
William followed after Mr. Davis. He studied the various ramps carved into the buildings. The ramps usually led up to those structures with the three-foot-high doors. He realized that the ramps must have been for the wolves to run up. The architecture of this place was a perfect blend of animal needs and the needs of humans. The integration of ramps for wolves was seamless; it didn’t seem to be an afterthought of construction like a lot of handicap ramps seemed to be back in ‘civilization’.
He let his eyesight roam through the various open bay buildings that squeezed in tightly to either side of them. They stood open like gaping wounds. There were thick layers of dust covering the floor and everything that happened to be inside them. This place looked like it hadn’t seen a sizable population in years, perhaps even decades. What happened here? Where did everybody go? He was about to ask Mr. Davis but then thought better of it and continued to walk in silence next to Ares.
After walking for a time, he began to hear voices and other signs of life. It was muted and seemed to be a long way off but the sound was a welcome relief to the silence that had surrounded them. This city seemed dead, but the sounds of voices and some form of equipment being used made this part of the city seem less eerie at least.
Mr. Davis led William and Ares away from the sounds. William was about to protest until he realized that there was probably no direct way for them to get to the sounds that he was now hearing. The streets cut off at odd angles and directions. Mr. Davis led the three of them through more alleyways and walkthroughs. William noted that the closer they got to the sounds of life, the building looked more and more used. They must be approaching the heart of the city, that place which remained in use after whatever had happened here. The closer they got; the more signs of life William could see. He began to pick out lights in windows even though there were still only a handful, and never higher than the third story of the structures.
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The open rooms on the ground floor got a progressively more used look the deeper into the city Mr. Davis led them. If he walked back the way he had come, William was pretty sure he could get an accurate idea of how many werewolves used to live here and how long ago they had lived here. This place was an archeologist’s wet dream. A whole civilization with a built-in persevered timeline. He didn’t need to carbon date anything to get a rough idea of the amount of history that this place must have seen.
They walked along and signs of life became more and more evident. The smell of death had disappeared almost entirely. It seemed to be replaced with a musky, earthy smell, even though the city appeared to be made from stone and rock. The smell reminded him of the forest, of running rivers and moonlit hunts.
The sounds of voices grew louder, and the lights were a little brighter. He soon began to see people. There were lamps hung outside some of the buildings. As they passed by, he saw a human or two or werewolves working at various tasks. He could see a red werewolf holding up what looked to be a gun of some sort. The barrel was longer than any handgun he had ever seen, and the grip was much larger. Must be made specifically for werewolves. He couldn’t think of it being anything else.
Mr. Davis stepped into a large building that was situated in the middle of the street that they were walking on. The structure was six or more stories high. He could see that the building was at the intersection of this street and three other streets that he could see. If the streets were evenly spaced at intersecting points around the building, there would be at least two more streets on the other side of the building that he couldn’t see. That would make six intersecting streets that met at this six-story high building. The number six and its significance was not lost on him, though he would be damned if he knew why the number six was so important. Tasha’s pack had six members, at least six that had showed themselves to him and Aceso. There were six of those shadow things that had attacked him in that creepy dream world. What did the number six mean?
Ares was pushing him toward the six-story building. The building was more of a tower than any building that he had passed by. The razor straight edges that ran down the sides of the thing were intimidating. The structure lanced out of the ground to command the cityscape in front of him. He wondered how he had missed that when he had first looked at the city from the mouth of the entrance tunnel. The walls of the tower shot straight up at perfect verticals. Then at the apex of the structure the sides collapsed in on themselves to form a single sharp point. The glossy black finish sides of the tower was the exact same as the surrounding buildings, he couldn’t get the thought of obsidian out of his head. But unlike the rest of the buildings of the city, this tower yawned over him with a terrible sense of foreboding and William found that he wanted nothing at all to do with the place.