Emily S Hurricane ’s voiceover is, as always, excellent and elevates the work. Give it a listen!
Before I got bit by my plug, it was simple with Gwen and me.
I met her at Twin Oaks Dispensary what feels like a lifetime ago but was only two years. When you travel a long distance, time slows, and when you turn into a werewolf, same thing. You have to digest all that new info, inside and out.
Gwen’s hair was long then. She looked like a lost cocker spaniel and I was interested even before I saw she was a big spender. I gave her some freebie pre-rolls I really liked (Fig & Cherry) and wrote my number on the back of her receipt.
We went hiking and kissed behind a waterfall—my idea. Gwen told me she quit, no actually got fired, from her sales rep job and warned me she was thinking about moving to Alaska for this soccer coach gig at this fancy summer camp. I fucked her so nice she forgot all about that. She didn’t know anything about Oregon, queercore bands, or double dildos.
I taught her what I knew, and I remember when she didn’t refuse to drink from my steel water bottle or act like some kinda moral superior. Erica is almost as bad, but at least she has a leg to stand on. Big time coyote chaser, that one.
“Stop being a bitch and drink.” I jostle my bottle at Gwen. She’s sitting bare-ass on the pine straw with her back to me, picking at her elbows, right side still crusty from the bullet removal. She refuses to wear any of our stuff because we “smell bad.” Erica’s wearing my velcro retirement home clothes (great pockets on those) and Anna’s jean jacket, sitting on a stump. Her attentive eyes meet mine a second before retreating. Unlike Gwen, Erica’s accepted our kindness. Baby steps in the right direction.
Anna refolds the map we got at the Delaware rest stop and takes a deep breath. I know she’s about to keep lecturing in her steady, relentless way: “You’re gonna wanna be a lazy bitch because you haven’t learned. Well you better learn. You can’t just eat whoever. You have to plan that shit, before and after. You have to distance yourself, right away.”
“Kill me,” Gwen rasps.
“Yeah well, people are easy to kill, basically overconfident pigs, but the consequences are a pain in the ass,” Anna continues. “Tonight we’re gonna hunt wild game and if you get distracted by sitting ducks, I’m gonna nip your ears.”
“I’m not doing anything with you.”
“I’m down,” Erica says.
Anna eyes her, licks her lips to taste her scent on the air though she made fun of her green hair just yesterday. “You babies need adult supervision.”
Gwen clutches her head. “If someone calls me ‘bitch’ or ‘baby’ one more fucking time—”
“What bitch?” I smile.
She turns to me red as a beet, mouth tight. Anna chuckles. Then Gwen’s eyes well up like a little baby bitch’s. So predictable. Good thing that act doesn’t work on me anymore.
Gwen would’ve done what I did if she didn’t have that money cushion to fall back on—that’s the truth.
“Erica,” Gwen pleads, then sounds like she’s playing soccer: “Come on. We could take them.”
Anna loses it, red hair flying as she doubles over, laughing so hard I’m afraid she’ll shift, but she clenches to still the tremors. If she keeps that up, she’ll get hemorrhoids.
I keep cool despite the hot jolt in my spine. “You forgot we kicked your ass already, fishbrain?”
Gwen ignores me, brown eyes boring a hole through Erica.
“Okay, let’s say we take them,” Erica starts. “Then what? You kill more people?”
“No!” Gwen tries to snarl. “Then they leave us alone. It’s two on two now, we can handle their third later. After that, we get away from people ‘til the full moon is over. No more killing.”
“You didn’t help me.” Erica shrugs. “Why should I help you?”
Gwen looks struck. “I didn’t—how could I have helped you?”
Erica rolls her eyes. “Exactly.”
“Please, don’t trust them.” Gwen directs her hate at me, and a thrill threatens to stretch my bones. “I dated one, and she was a liar. Pathological.”
“Ungrateful bitch! We came all the way here to check on you.” I shouldn’t have said that. Anna gives me a flat look that confirms I shouldn’t have said that. Have to bite my teeth to keep them in place. Don’t be a baby—I don’t want to be the baby anymore. I spit pink. “It’s not like you were a perfect partner.”
“Check on me? Why?”
Anna clears her throat: “Not many of us survive, so.”
There used to be nine of us. Even more birthed and died before me. I know Gwen reminds Rainy of someone long gone. Anna won’t tell me about it.
“You live in a good, woodsy place, but, ‘specially after your behavior last night, I’m surprised you’ve stayed alive.” Anna raises her brows. “You even managed to reproduce.”
Gwen glances at Erica, then away, both of them looking repulsed. “You’re not gonna get me to leave with you,” Gwen says, as if we haven’t been cleaning up her shit and saving her life. “Not now, not ever. I’m going my own way.”
A lone wolf. I laugh, can’t help it. She must think she’s special. She must think she’s good.
She just smells like money.
I don't hate anyone except the dead Dyers. I really want to know more about the gang and I really want to be so conflicted about who I side with. I have a feeling I will be!
Awesome. "fucked her so good she forgot" was an excellent shift mid-paragraph.
Doesn't matter how bad ass you are. To someone you're always the baby bitch.