The Prime Alpha

Chapter 3

NICKY

People say you never know what you have until you lose it. It wasn't true in my case. I always know what I have, I'm careful like that. I fought back tears, perched on the topmost step that led out to the backyard. Everyone told me to quit crying, that it couldn't do a thing. But not even a soul told me how.

Another thing people say is “make memories, they are forever”. I fear I sharpened the double-edged blade muse because now the countless memories I had with Agnes over the years hounded around me, running through my mind like a card through a reader. And doing so over and over again. Words couldn't explain how I felt right now, words couldn't provide any comfort either. It really was crazy that sixteen days ago, my best friend in the whole world was killed while on a video call with me—and I was supposed to do what now? Keep eating, shitting, breathing as usual, eh? Like nothing happened?

“She would want you to speak,” Gladys, Agnes' mother, tugged gently on my arm on the burial day, leading me to the pile of wood within which Agnes' naked body was placed. I hadn't wanted to say anything but I knew Gladys wanted me to, and so I did perhaps the hardest thing I had ever done: I told my best friend goodbye while staring into her pale face.

Werewolf burials—the burning of the bodies and burying of urns—were observed any time between 24-72 hours from the time of death. Since it had taken about a full day to retrieve her body and another to get the burial ready, it has now been just about a fortnight since her urn was buried, just behind her father's.

“Hey,” Craig came to sit beside me, threw an arm around me, as he leaned on me whilst still somehow managing to rock the stiffness that was my body. “I think, um, it's time we talked about it.“

I swallowed hard, keeping my stare straight. “Talk about what?“

“Come on, don't make this hard.“

“Hard? What about any of this isn't hard, hmm? No, tell me. Tell me what's not f*cking hard about Ag….” I trailed off, unable to say her name, as though it was physically impossible for me to utter her name.

Craig squeezed my shoulders, keeping me closer still, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to word it that way.“

I shook my head at him, waving it off. “There's nothing to apologise for. I overreacted.“

I knew Craig only spoke with good intentions. He was now looking in the opposite direction, rubbing his palms against themselves, but he was entirely silent. Mute as a rock. This meant only one thing: he was anxious about telling me something.

“What's it, babe?“ I broke the silence, leaning on his shoulder.

“What's what?“

“Fine by me. Sorry for asking you.“

He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, we just sat in silence, watching the bright day about us. When he did speak, he turned to face me though I kept my gaze straight.

“I care about you, deeply, wholly. But, Nicky, I believe it's best you don't attend the meeting today. I don't think it's right that you take part in… you were too close to her and it only just happened. I'm looking out for you here.“

I was calm, not surprised in the least. Ma had already said this to me, claiming that staying away from anything concerning ASILENCE 'was the right thing to do'.

“I'll be at the meeting.“

“Nicky, please, I need you to understand that we are only thinking about you and your mental health.“

We? Great! He and Ma had convened on this.

“Craig,” I ran a hand through his thick locs, “I know you're looking out for me, but if you think I'll not attend the first serious meeting meant to address the group responsible for the death of my best friend, then you don't know me all that well.“

His lips parted and closed right back, as if he decided last second to keep his thoughts to himself. It's what I would recommend. Because I wasn't going to listen to him or anyone. I will rip ASILENCE out from the inside, watch their entire organisation crumble. I swear I will, even if it's the last thing I do.

***** *****

We all left our neighbourhood to Damien Cardone's place in the early afternoon, just after we had met for a short meeting where we concluded we would meet with the man. The drive to his place should take no more than three hours, especially as it was a Sunday. I rode with Craig in his van, along with Austin, my brother, and Dave, Craig's brother. We were the last vehicle, trailing behind the rest; there were at least eight other vehicles ahead, five of which were also vans.

I was saddened we were now just finally willing to listen to Damien Cardone, something some of us had cried out for years. Including Agnes and myself. It was a shame she had to die before they decided to put their hatred for Damien aside and listen to him.

“My skin crawls just thinking about seeing that man,” Dave exhaled rather noisily, dropping his palms to his knees. He met his brother's stare at the rearview mirror, a scolding stare, even whilst still on the wheel. “What's it, Craig? You know I say it as it is.“

“I feel you,” Austin joined in, gazing out the window, “I swear it's f*cked up that we have to do this at all.“

“But, do we really?“ Dave persisted, flailing his hands for a moment. “We have all lost our damn minds if we think that f*cking maniacal degenerate is our saviour.“

I hadn't wanted to say anything, and for good reason too. I feared I would be too aggressive on them, especially as I wasn't in the least liking Dave's tone. But I understood his concern though in this moment it irritated me.

“I hate Damien as much as the next person,” I stated, turning to look at the teenagers in the back. “But growing up, especially in this kind of time, is knowing that you can work with a bad person for the right cause. We don't have many options. If you cannot see this, then you're still a child.“

No one did even as much as breathe loud after that, all that could be heard was the sputtering sound of the engine and whooshing of the wind as we drove.

***** *****

All twenty-five of us marched into Damien Cardone's property which was rather well kept, though in the middle of nowhere. He had about twenty fully grown dobermans, all of whom fled as dogs did whenever they caught sight of werewolves.

“Welcome, welcome,” Damien greeted as he saw us, gesturing for us to settle down on the benches in his backyard. “I'm honoured you have come to see me. It's been a while, people. Marshall, Aretha, Gladys, you're all not looking half bad. And, um, if you would all like to wine and dine, far be it from me to deny it of you.”

Damien was maybe five foot six, with very little hair on his head, small enough to be wiped clean with a short stroke of a clipper. He spoke as though it was all colours with him, like he could fart out sparkly bubbles. If anything I have heard about Damien was true, then it was all an act.

“Can we get to business?“ Aretha, a septuagenarian who, besides myself, was the only other Alpha present (Damien aside, of course). “We have not come to idle about as you torture a poor animal.”

We had walked in on Damien chopping up the leg of a deer, his hands and torso bloodied; it was only after Aretha spoke that I concentrated and heard the heart of the deer beating, slowly, its breath slow and dragged.

Okay, so this man was far from being decent.

He began to talk as he washed the blood off his upper body and arms. There was a way the man spoke, as if he was trying to sell candy to kids, his tone cheerful even as he described brutal killings done by ASILENCE.

“For years, I have begged the werewolf community at large, not just your town, to please unite against ASILENCE. ASILENCE, as I prefer to describe them, is a terror group.“ He grinned, eyes shut, head slowly shaking. “People don't listen to anything little old Damien says. And why? Because I'm maybe a little too quirky.“

“Quirky is painting your hair green or having multiple piercings,” Dad let out in his usual matter-of-fact manner, his blank stare partially masking his disgust for Damien. “Killing your own people and eating humans is not being quirky.“

“I kill people who come for me, Marshall Tulino,” Damien chuckled as he drew closer to Dad, walking almost comically wobbly, whether in jest or just lunacy. Or both. “Who wouldn't? And the eating of human bit is perfectly normal. Humans are prey to wolves and I don't see you hating on regular wolves for filling their stomachs.”

“You're a goddamn plague, you piece of hot….”

“That's enough, Marshall,” Aretha stated plainly, cutting Dad off, and then turning to Damien. “You're only a means to an end. No one here would want to touch you with a hundred foot pole otherwise. That said, we would like to know everything you know about ASILENCE. We want to know how to get rid of them and how to do so quickly. We don't care to cut the branches or hurt the tree. No, that's not why we're here. We intend on uprooting the tree and then burning the hole.“

He nodded in agreement and clapped, saying, “And I'm more than willing to help in any and every way I can. But there's just one small problem. I need to have access to the Haball… no, this is not negotiable.“

Well, good people, wasn't it going just fine until he said that?