SNAFU: Wolves at the Door

“It’s a mistake. They thought Scott and me were involved in something. They wanted to make sure we showed up, so they took you and the boys and they took his wife.”

“Eric, I don’t think she’s doing well. She’s back there trying to have a baby and I don’t think she’s ready. From what she told me, she’s not due for another couple of months.”

Before Eric could answer, one of the werewolves came through the door from the back room, carrying Allison. Eric knew her, of course, had known her since high school for Christ’s sake and seeing her held in the arms of a monster was enough to jolt him.

“What the hell?” He started moving forward and two of the men in the room shook their heads at him. Another two stopped and did their non-verbal communication thing with the beast carrying Allison and then almost immediately began changing.

Sarah turned without a word and distracted both of the boys, hugging them and talking to them as she maneuvered them away from being able to see what was occurring.

The two that had spoken with their leader walked toward the front door and began changing as they moved. By the time they were out the door and moving into the storm they’d left piles of dead skin and clothing in their wakes.

Scott came out of the back of the house, his face tense with worry, ready to storm after them if he had to.

It was Eric who intercepted him and pulled him to the side. He asked what was up and Scott explained.

“Look, there’s nothing you can do right now, Scott. If they wanted to hurt her they would have by now.” He kept his voice as calm and level as he could, and low enough that the boys wouldn’t hear what he was saying.

“I know that,” Scott hissed. “But I mean it, Eric. If they let her die or our baby die, I’ll come back for them.”

Eric said nothing. He was already trying to figure out how they were going to really get out of all of this alive.

He wanted to believe the monsters around them would keep their word about setting them free, but he had his doubts. He hadn’t seen Mark’s kids or the woman George was now living with. That left him worried. Very worried.

He looked to Sarah and his sons and tried to remain calm. There was nothing he could do about their current situation except be grateful that his family was alive and unharmed.

His number-one priority was making sure they stayed that way.

* * *

What had started as freezing rain and moved into snow had now become a blizzard. The thick layer of white that dropped from the sky blanketed damned near everything.

George woke up in the middle of the woods, sheltered by the remains of what looked like a church. He hadn’t really thought he’d wake up at all, so it was a night for surprises.

The cold sucked at his vitality, leeched away his will to do anything but sit and shiver. Outside of his shelter he heard the wind screaming through the trees. Not far away in the darkness of the abandoned building, he could hear someone moaning.

That was what got him to move. He recognized the sound of Cullie’s voice.

He tried to stand and heard himself moan at the pain it caused. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t feel like it had been beaten hard and kicked a few times for extra measure. Still, he had to see what was going on with Cullie.

He moved toward the dark lump on the ground a few feet away and tried to see clearly in the darkness brought on by the storm. The thing sounded like Cullie, made noises that should have come from his friend, but it wasn’t Cullie. It couldn’t be. Cullie had skin.

His hands and feet still wore flesh, as did his face. The rest of his body had been stripped raw, and even in the darkness he could see things that simply were not meant to be seen.

“Oh fuck, what did they do to you?” He blinked back the tears that wanted to fall, refusing to shed a tear for his old friend. He knew what had happened. He knew why it had happened.

Cullie looked at him with wild eyes, but he didn’t think the man was really seeing him anymore. Despite the bitter chill in the air, the skinned man in front of him gave off heat. He was feverish.

He let out a small yelp of surprise when he heard Mark’s voice. “I don’t think he can talk. He’s too far gone with whatever else they did to him.”

George turned around and looked for Mark. It took him a moment to spot his friend. Mark was alive, his wrists and ankles bound in what was left of his own bootlaces. His face had been sliced into fifths, and the red wounds that separated the portions were starting to scab over.

“What the hell happened?”

“The big one, their leader, beat me in a fight. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. I don’t know why.” Mark coughed. “Maybe he wants us to freeze to death so it looks like an accident.”

“If anyone ever finds us out here, I don’t think they’ll make that mistake.”