Chương 22: The Man Who Burned

Willow guides Crimson to the entranceway. It was extremely late, and he truly needed to head home to be ready for school the next morning.

"I'm so incredibly sorry. For that being the absolute worst, most terribly awkward dinner in the history of awkward dinners." Willow said, fighting back tears.

"It wasn't the worst. There was that dinner when my parents announced they were getting a divorce. This comes in a close second. Your Dad is watching." That earns a chuckle. She grabs the lapel of his jacket and pulls him close for a kiss. But Crimson gently pulls away. Ash peers out from the dining room.

"Good." And she plants a kiss on his lips. Stepping back, Crimson reaches for the door as...

"Hold on a second, you two." Lily walks through the dining room, passing Ash.

"I need to ask Crimson something. What did you take from my bag?"

"What?"

"My bag. What did you take from it? Do you need me to repeat the question or speak more clearly?" She gazes at him, perfectly composed, as Ash enters the room.

"My bag was left open in the guest room. It was zipped up when I left it. Crimson came in to use the bathroom. He left. My bag was open."

"He didn't take anything. I'll prove you wrong. It wasn't Crimson going through your bag. It was me." All eyes turn to Willow.

"You?" She reaches into her own pocket, pulls out, and confidently holds up a condom. The room falls silent, jaws dropped. Everyone gazes from one person to another, utterly shocked. Ash, in particular, is wrestling with some deeply complex emotions. As Crimson exits, he shuts the door behind him and heads for his bike with a dazed and completely stunned expression. Hearing muffled arguing through the closed door, he climbs onto his bike.

Then, as if just now realizing what was on Willow's mind when she was digging through Lily's bag, the corners of his mouth begin to curl upward. A moment later, as he pedals away, he starts to smile. Grinning.

Autzee passes the bone saw to Churro. Next, he starts wrapping a tourniquet around the arm that's infected.

"It'll recover. If it succeeds.

""I don't believe your threats anymore." Autzee seizes him by the collar.

"Alright, I'm convinced, I'll do it, I'll do it." Autzee lets go, though not because he wanted to. He begins to gasp, choke, and cough. Bending over, he opens his mouth as if about to vomit. But instead of vomit, a dark, inky liquid is coughed out, spilling across the floor.

"Good Lord, what is that?"

"My body... attempting... to heal." Kneeling on the floor, Autzee looks up with eyes glowing blue.

"Now... You must do this now." Pulling himself up, he places his infected arm on the examining table.

"Oh God..." Setting the blade's edge against Autzee's skin, just above the farthest-reaching infected vein, Churro inhales deeply. He closes his eyes tightly. And right as he's about to pull the trigger... A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Churro?" Crimson bursts through the door, shocked to see Churro about to saw off Autzee's arm.

"What are you doing?"

"You just stopped a lifetime of nightmares." Crimson holds up the bullet. Autzee grabs it, raises it to examine it in the light.

"What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to... I'm going..." He collapses. Falling straight to the floor. The bullet drops and rolls away. Crimson dashes after it.

"No, no, no..." The bullet falls through a metal grate and into a drain. Kneeling down, Crimson digs his fingers into the grate, but he can't reach the bullet. Across the room, Churro tries to wake Autzee.

"He's not waking up!" Under the grate, the bullet sits just beyond Crimson's reach. The tips of his finger and thumb graze the metal but can't get around it.

"Just hold on!" Crimson squeezes his eyes shut, pushing further down. With his teeth clenched, something occurs... His fingernails start to sharpen, extending into claws. This gives him just enough reach to snatch the bullet out. Crimson jumps to his feet.

"I got it!" Churro looks down at Autzee.

"Please don't kill me for this." He punches Autzee right in the face. As Churro staggers back, cradling his hand, Autzee's eyes flutter open.

"Give it to me." Crimson tosses Autzee the bullet as he struggles to stand. He cracks the tip open and pulls a lighter from his pocket. He holds the flame to the contents inside. Sparks fly as bits of wolfsbane ignite. He palms the smouldering ashes and grinds them into his gunshot wound, wincing as he does. Autzee drops back to his knees on the floor. He opens his mouth, revealing his sharpened fangs. Churro and Crimson step back. Down the hall, the dogs bark, building to a frenzy as they rattle the cages.

He tilts his head back and... screams. It's an ear-piercing, earth-shattering howl of agony. And then he tumbles back, sweat-soaked skin hitting the cold cement floor. His arm falls to his side. In seconds, the open sores close, wounds healing, returning to normal. Crimson and Churro exchange an incredulous look.

"That. Was. Awesome." Autzee's eyes blink open. Slowly, he pushes himself back up from the floor. Catching his breath, he stands up straight. He grabs his shirt, pulling it back on.

"We saved your life. That means you're going to leave us alone. You got that? And if you don't, I go back to Willow's dad and tell him everything..."

"You're going to trust them? You think they can help you? I can show you exactly how nice they are."

"What do you mean?"

In the dim corridor of Lantern City Hospital, a sign on the wall reads: long term care. Crimson follows Autzee past it, stealing glances over his shoulder to confirm they're still alone in the hallway.

"What are we doing here?" But Autzee remains silent, pressing onward toward a room at the corridor's end. He guides Crimson into the shadowy hospital room, gently shutting the door behind them. He draws back the curtain from the window, letting moonlight spill in and reveal a man seated in a wheelchair nearby. Only one side of his body is visible, his face blank and catatonic.

"Who is he?"

"My uncle. Nara Tale." Grabbing the arm of the chair, he turns Nara around. As the man's head tilts to the side, Crimson notices severe burn scars covering the other half of his body. Darkened, twisted flesh spreads across his face, down his neck, and along his arm.

"Six years ago, my sister and I were at school when our house caught fire. Eleven people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor."

"How can you be certain they started the fire?"

"They were the only ones who knew about us." Autzee admitted.

"Then they had a reason." This infuriated him, and Autzee slammed his hand on the table so hard it cracked.

"Like what? What could justify this? They claim they only kill adults and only with absolute proof. But there were perfectly ordinary members of my family in that fire. This is what they do." He turns Nara's face toward Crimson so he can see it clearly in the light.

"It's what Willow will do." Autzee pauses, sensing something. He steps back as the door opens, and a night nurse named Jennifer peers in.

"What are you doing? How did you get in here?" She retreats from the doorway as if to call for security. But then she halts, spotting Autzee in the moonlight.

"We were leaving."

"Wait. Are you a relative?" He doesn't respond, walking past her. Unsure what else to do, Crimson follows. She watches them go, curious.

Ash observes Lily as she paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. She gives the lighter a playful flick.

"The one that came at me was huge. It had both size and strength. The one I took down was slim and quick..."

"That would be Autzee Tale. I'm fairly certain." Ash told her. Lily turns the pilot valve on the fireplace. Gas starts to hiss out. But she doesn't ignite it just yet.

"And we're certain it's only those two?"

"Not yet. But if He's alive, he'll guide us to the Alpha..."

"Capture the pack leader. Then capture the pack." The fireplace's gas valve keeps hissing. Lily still hasn't lit the match.

"And we do it by the code. It exists for a purpose."

"Naturally..." At last, she lights the match and throws it into the fireplace, turning the hissing gas into a burst of flames.

"I always stick to the rules."