Blood Of The Pack

The First Lead

Morning came gray and cold.

Max hadn't slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw red. Felt teeth. Heard that voice—familiar, wrong, just out of reach.

The veins on his arm had spread to his neck. Thin black lines, like cracks in old porcelain. He kept the collar of his jacket up.

Nico arrived at eight. Two cups of coffee. A paper bag of donuts. He set them on the motel table and looked at Max.

"You look worse than yesterday."

"I feel worse."

Nico didn't push. Just handed him a coffee. "Drink. Then we work."

They sat across from each other. Nico pulled out a notebook—small, worn, pages curling at the edges.

"Okay," Nico said. "Harlow said the creature's been hunting in OSLARD for months. That means someone's seen it. Maybe multiple someones. We need to find them before they find you."

"How do we do that?"

"Contacts. I've been running goods in this city for a year. I know people who hear things. People who talk to people who shouldn't exist." Nico tapped the notebook. "I made a list."

He slid it across the table.

Three names. Addresses. Notes in Nico's messy handwriting.

Sal – Homeless vet. Sleeps near the old train yard. Claims he saw a "big dog" last winter.

Marta – Night clerk at a 24-hour pharmacy on Thorn. Says she saw a man with red eyes staring through the window at 3 AM.

Ridge – Fence. Deals in stolen goods. Heard someone talking about a "beast" that took out a whole family outside the city. Might know more.

Max read the list twice. "These are our leads?"

"Best I got on short notice. Unless you want to go back to Harlow."

"I don't."

"Then we start with Sal. He's closest."

The old train yard was a graveyard of rusted boxcars and broken tracks. Weeds pushed through cracks in the concrete. A few tents huddled against a crumbling wall.

Sal was sitting on a milk crate, smoking a cigarette. His eyes were pale, watery. His hands shook.

Nico approached first. "Sal. It's Nico. Remember me?"

Sal squinted. "The runner."

"That's right. Got a friend with me. Wants to ask you about the dog you saw."

Sal's face went pale. He dropped the cigarette. Stamped it out. "Didn't see nothing."

"You told me you saw something," Nico said. "Last winter. Big dog. Not a normal one."

"I was drunk.”

"Were you?"

Sal looked at Max. His eyes moved to Max's jacket collar—the veins hidden underneath. Something flickered across his face. Recognition? Fear?

"You got the mark," Sal whispered.

Max's blood went cold. "What mark?"

Sal pulled up his own sleeve. His arm was scarred—old, ragged wounds. Like bites. Like claws.

"I saw it," Sal said. "The thing. Red eyes. Tall. Walked on two legs. It came through the yard. I hid behind a boxcar. Watched it tear apart a deer like it was nothing." He pulled his sleeve down. "It saw me. Didn't attack. Just looked at me with those eyes. Then it left."

"Did it bite you?" Max asked.

"No. But I got close. Close enough to feel its breath." Sal's hands shook harder. "You got the mark, boy. Means it got you. Means it owns you now."

Max said nothing.

Sal stood. Grabbed his milk crate. "Leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Don't want to think about it." He walked away, disappearing between two boxcars.

Nico looked at Max. "He knew something."

"He knew enough." Max's arm throbbed. "Let's go."

Marta worked the night shift at a 24-hour pharmacy on Thorn Street.

They found her just before noon. She was sitting on a bench outside, eating a sandwich. Dark circles under her eyes. Gray-streaked hair.

Nico showed her the notebook. "You told someone about a man with red eyes. Looking through the window."

Marta stopped chewing. Swallowed. "Who's asking?"

"Someone who needs to know."

She looked at Max. Held his gaze for a long moment. "You're the one, aren't you? The one the thing is hunting."

Max's heart skipped. "How do you know that?"

"Because I've seen it. Not just once. Three times. Always at night. Always watching. It doesn't come into the store. Just stands outside. Stares."

"What does it look like?"

"Big. Tall. Dressed in dark clothes. But its face—" Marta shuddered. "Its face isn't right. Too long. Too sharp. And its eyes. Red. Like embers."

Max felt the bite mark burn. "When was the last time you saw it?"

"Three nights ago. Right before you showed up in OSLARD." She looked at him. "You brought it here. Whatever you're running from, it followed you."

Nico stepped in. "That's not fair. He didn't ask for this."

"Fair doesn't matter. Only survival." Marta stood. Put her sandwich wrapper in the trash. "My advice? Leave. Tonight. Don't look back. Or you'll end up like the others."

"What others?" Max asked.

But she was already walking away.

Ridge was harder to find.

He ran his operation out of a basement bar on the south side. A place called *The Rusty Nail*. The door was steel. The bouncer was massive.

Nico talked to him. Words Max couldn't hear. The bouncer looked at Max. Nodded. Opened the door.

Inside was dark. A few tables. A bar that hadn't been cleaned in years. Men in corners, watching.

Ridge sat in the back. Bald. Gold chain. Fingers covered in rings.

"Nico," he said. "You brought a friend."

"He's looking for information. About the beast."

Ridge's smile faded. "That's not a topic I like to discuss."

"I'll make it worth your while," Nico said. He pulled out a roll of cash. Put it on the table.

Ridge looked at the money. Then at Max. "You're the one. The bite."

Max didn't deny it.

Ridge leaned back. "Word travels. People talk. A family was killed outside the city a few weeks ago. Animal attack, they said. But the ones who saw—they know it wasn't an animal. It was the beast. The same one that's been hunting in OSLARD for months."

"Why is it here?" Max asked.

Ridge shrugged. "Nobody knows. But I heard something. A rumor. It's looking for something. Or someone. A way to break something old. A seal, maybe. But that's just talk."

Max's pulse quickened. "A seal?"

"Ancient thing. Buried somewhere near the city. Guardian used to watch over it. But the guardian's dead now. Killed about a year ago." Ridge leaned forward. "You want my advice? Don't go looking for the beast. It'll find you soon enough. And when it does, you won't survive."

Max stood. "Thanks for nothing."

Ridge picked up the cash. "Thanks for the money."

Outside, the sky had turned gray.

Nico lit a cigarette. Offered one to Max. Max shook his head.

"That was a dead end," Nico said.

"Not entirely. Ridge mentioned a seal. A guardian. That's more than Harlow told me."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know what to believe." Max's arm throbbed. The veins burned. "But someone in this city knows the truth. We just have to find them."

"Or they find us."

Max looked at the darkening sky. The moon would rise soon. Not full yet. Close.

"Tomorrow," Max said. "We keep digging."

"And tonight?"

"Tonight I try not to turn into a monster."

Nico clapped him on the shoulder. "Small goals. I like it."

They walked back to the jeep.

The city watched. Silent. Waiting….