Howl

Lycanthropes are real. People who are born human but under the glow of a full moon inexplicably turn into wolves. Some fully into wolves, others strange half-wolves. I know this to be fact because for the last eight years I have been married to one. 

Rob and I met in a dingy little dive bar on the outskirts of town back when I was a barmaid. It was a weeknight, early in the morning so there weren’t very many people in, apart from a couple of  rat-arsed truckers who had been slurring and half-asleep in a corner booth for three hours by that point. He stumbled in, bleeding with half of his clothes torn from his body, no shoes on his feet and smeared in dirt. Naturally I assumed the poor thing had been attacked, mauled, they always said there were wolves in the woods around Springhollow. He was shaking and barely able to speak. He signalled to use our telephone and I, of course, allowed it but only after a solid minute of pleading to call an ambulance on his behalf though he wouldn’t let me. He didn’t have any change so I took some loose coins out of my tip jar and loaned them to him. He slotted them in and punched in the numbers. With a voice deep and gruff but hushed like a scared kid he said,

“It happened again.” He turned to me, standing there dumbfounded and asked, “Excuse me, Miss, where am I?”

“Bar called Bloodmoon, just outside of Springhollow.”

“Thank you, Miss.” He repeated the address down the phone and then took a seat at the bar. 

“I’m not really supposed to let you sit there unless you order something,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from his shameful gaze. His irises were yellow like an animal’s with blown out pupils. He squinted in the dim light.

“I don’t have any money.”

I leaned in and whispered. “Water is free.” 

“Can I get some water, please?”

“Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?”

“No, the water is fine, thank you.”

“One water it is.” Whilst I had my back turned, shooting the water into one of the glasses I had been meticulously recleaning for the last seven hours with nothing better to do, I pulled the first aid kit off the shelf. The case had a thin layer of dust overtop, it had never been used. I placed the water down in front of him and left my post as barmaid to sit by him. “They had us do a course in how to use these things. Do you mind if I take a look at you?”

“There’s no need, I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding all over my boss’s carpet.”

He placed the heel of his palm to a large gash above his eye with a shy half-smile on his face. “Sorry.”

“Can I at least clean it? It looks like it could need stitches.”

“You shouldn’t get too close to me.”

“Why? You a serial killer?” 

“No, but I’m…” He looked me in the face for the first time all night and his pupils shrunk. Within a few blinks those crazy sunshine eyes had given way to a still and calming blue and the snarl of his lips softened. He breathed shakily before he finally finished his sentence, “...dangerous.” 

Any normal woman would take this as a warning from the strange, dirty man bleeding out in her bar but what can I say, I’m a good samaritan. “I like dangerous, you should meet my boyfriend.” Some fucker called Glenn, a culinary student with a fuse somehow shorter than his cock.

He laughed shyly, hiding his mouth. “He give you that?” He stretched his thumb over to my bruised eye. I thought it had faded enough to be unnoticeable.

“So what if he did?”

“Nice girl like you deserves better than that.” He turned so the wound was facing me, inviting me to clean it. I took some antiseptic wash thingy and some of the cotton in the kit to wipe away the mud, blood and god knows what else from around the large cut. It didn’t look so bad once it was all cleaned up. 

“There, good as new. There’s a staff only bathroom round the back if you want to go and wash up a little. We have a box around here somewhere full of old jackets and things that people left behind, I’ll dig it out, find something for you to wear. It’s freezing out there tonight.”

“Thank you, Miss…”

“It’s Bernadette, but everyone just calls me Bernie.”

“Thank you, Bernie. I’m Robert. Robert Hurley.” He extended his hand which had finally stopped quivering.

“Nice to meet you, Robert.”

He shuffled off to the bathroom whilst I perused the old lost and found box and found a thick brown fleece that stank of nicotine but looked like it’d fit his broad shoulders and wide back. I went to the bathroom and knocked. He opened the door just a crack, revealing only his hand. I saw it then, the throbbing and deep purple bruising on his wrist highlighting a heavy, jagged slashing across his flesh. He thanked me, taking the jacket and slipping it on before exiting. 

By the time we got back to the bar there was a whole gang of men frantically jittering and chattering in the doorway. They were all shorter and slimmer than Robert was but they all had the same ratty, ginger-y, brown-y mops of hair and eyes like the sea in summertime.

“Robbie, thank God,” one of them exclaimed as he ran to hug my new friend. “We were so worried.”

“I’m fine, Billy, really. I just got a little lost.” When he pulled away he introduced me. “This is Miss Bernie, she helped me. Bernie, these are my brothers.”

“All of them?” I counted six.

“Yes, all of them.”

“God, your poor mother,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s a pleasure. Will you stay for a drink? My shift doesn’t end for a while yet.”

“Thank you, Miss Bernie,” Billy said, his eyes looking me up and down and up again as if I was lower than a flea. “But we need to get Robbie home, he’s had quite a night, haven’t you big man?” He slapped Rob’s back.

“Thank you, Bernie. For the water and the jacket and the phone.”

“You owe me 11 pence,” I winked.

His brothers started to lead him towards the door, hiding him in the middle of their motley crew as if anyone could miss all 6 foot 6 of him. I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the half-dead blue pen from the pad we used to score for the pool table and jogged to catch up with them. I clasped Rob’s arm, rolled up the thick sleeve and scrawled my number across his skin. What can I say? He was dreamy. He smiled with a little giggle as they ushered him outside. 

I spent the rest of my shift in a daze, grinning to myself and daydreaming of his big hands and kind eyes and those deep cuts on his wrist. It wasn’t until my boss came in at 8am and saw me still trying to scrub the macabre redness out of the carpet that it dawned on me, I never bothered to ask Rob what had happened to him, and Rob never bothered to tell me. 

Our love story was as standard as anyone's. After a few weeks of secret, sordid phone calls with my mystery man, I told Glenn I was done. He went full Glenn and Rob picked me up from A&E a few hours later. I never went to Glenn’s again. Rob and I went for walks and ate expensive seafood at restaurants and saw crap movies. He brought me flowers and chocolates. We kissed under the moonlight and made love in the back of his car. We broke up for two months because I woke up in his bed with a 120 pound wolf baring its teeth and slobbering on me but I forgave him eventually.

We got married, bought a house, got real jobs, got a fish tank we never populated and a mortgage. We had our little Lola first and Marie came two years later. They hadn't shown any signs of having their dad’s affliction, but we'd tell them when the time was right, they were still too young to understand. Rob didn't start turning until he was thirteen, we had time.

We had a pretty good arrangement – on every full moon, blue blood, red moon, eclipse, or other assorted lunar event he would go back to his dad’s farm with his brothers and they'd take care of him. They didn't know what triggered him to start turning, he hadn't been scratched or bitten or cursed, it just happened and he couldn't stop it. None of his brothers had it, just not-so-little Robbie. It had gotten harder since we'd had the girls, they always wanted to know where Daddy was going and why they couldn’t stay with him. He told them it was a boring work trip. I always begged for him to let me stay with him during his turns but he refused. He said he didn't want to hurt me even accidentally. I stayed home with the girls. 

There was rigorous preparation every full moon. He’d wake up early and go for a run to tire himself out. He'd come home and meditate, do his yoga and his tai chi. Whilst he was all loosened up and sweaty we’d deal with the natural instincts that called to him when he wasn't himself. When he turned he really was like a bitch in heat. We shoved a film on for the girls, left them with snacks and made doubly sure the bedroom door was locked. He'd knock a few out himself and then I'd come and coax out a few more. It eased the pressure ahead of the night. He'd take a long and scolding shower to try and combat the unholy wet dog smell that would soon overtake him. He'd shave himself to stop the matting and ingrown hairs but he always needed me to do his back for him. We mixed up some calamine lotion with some rash cream and moisturiser and practically painted him with it to help with the itching when the fur started to pierce through his skin. We trimmed down his nails until they were too short to scratch with. He ate nothing but meat on those days, he didn't crave anything else. We had negotiated that I would cook the meat after we had Lola. Cleaning up vomit and diarrhea for a baby was bad enough without him getting food poisoning every month too. Whatever he didn't eat we wrapped up in tinfoil and packed for him to take to the farm. He packed a bag with bandages and antiseptic creams with clean underwear and clothes. We kept him away from the girls as much as we could. I know he’d never hurt them but we didn’t want to take chances.

As much as I love my children, and I do love my children, trying to get a four year old and a six year old out of the house on time when your husband is fighting every urge to not turn into a flesh chomping apex predator is a task I would wish on no one. We planned to leave the house at exactly 3pm to get the girls to football practice for 3:15pm, giving me 90 minutes to get them settled, get to Billy’s farm, get Rob safe and for me to get back here to pick them up. We were a well-oiled machine. Until today when Marie suddenly decided she didn’t want to wear shoes or a coat or have her hair in the coach-mandated ponytail and kept holding her breath until she was purple in the face every time we tried to get them on her so we didn’t leave until 3:25pm with her hair down, no shoes and no coat. Rob was seething. He was pacing the corridors begging me to just go and I was fully aware we didn’t have the time for this but when that little girl starts one of her tantrums, there is no stopping her. It made for a very awkward car ride. He kissed the girls goodbye and told them he loved them as we dropped them off. He stayed in the car fidgeting and huffing whilst I wrestled shoes onto Marie’s little feet and delivered them to their team. 

“Bernadette!” One of the other mum’s at drop off called over to me, jogging over. I had never bothered to learn her name but her kid was a Samuel or a Samson or a Sammy. I glanced over to Rob in the car, bouncing his leg. He subtly tapped his watch.

“Hiya, hon,” I said with a smile. 

“We did send a text in the group chat but you didn’t reply so we’ll tell you now whilst we’ve got you. Susan, you know Susan with the leg, her little Troy has decided he no longer wants to eat animal products after seeing a documentary at the school. That new teacher, you know, with the hair…”

I looked back over to Rob who was practically banging his head against the window before turning back to the woman. “I’m actually in a bit of a rush so…”

“Right, yes, of course, I could talk for England. You’re on the snack rotation next week so vegan products only please. No gelatin or eggs or butter or milk.”

“Vegan, got it.” I stepped away from her, heading towards the car.

“Oh and one last thing. We need your contribution for the bus to the match next weekend.”

“Yeh, I’ll get you it.” I kept walking. 

“Today would be best or we’ll lose the deposit-”

Rob leaned over and opened the door from the inside. I settled into my seat, slamming the door before I could get accosted again. 

“Bernie, that sun is getting really low, babe.”

“I know, babe, I’ll floor it.”

On his change days his ears were sensitive so we didn't turn the radio on. I drove and he was in the passenger seat holding my hand, breathing in deeply the country air wafting through the window. 

“You OK?” I asked him.

“Itchy.”

“Try not to scratch.”

“I am trying,” he snapped. He sighed, squeezing my hand. 

“It’s OK. We’re almost there, just keep breathing.” If I put my foot down we could clear the distance in half an hour. 

By the time we were pulling up to the farm, he had begun to scratch away at the leather seats. He was shaking.

“Babe, you need to get me out of this fucking car.”

I reached over and stroked his face. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to drip from him. “Stay here, I’ll go and get your brother.”

Billy was already jogging out to meet me. He was still the spitting image of Robert, just eight years older. “You’re cutting it fine, aren’t you?”

“Ketamine now, he’s already going.”

“On the counter in the kitchen I’ll get him to the barn.”

Obviously it brought me no pleasure drugging my husband, but nothing made for human consumption eased the pain of his transformation. The vial, needle, tourniquet and cotton were all out and ready. I gathered them up and ran out. Billy had half-carried, half-dragged Rob to the derelict, barely standing, once red painted barn near the farmhouse and had already stripped most of his clothes from him. Buying new underwear was cheap enough, we let him maintain some dignity. I prepped his arm for the needle, whilst Billy adjusted the wooden boards that blocked out the light through the windows.

“You still with me, babe?”

Rob nodded, barely able to keep his head up. “Warm.”

“You’re warm?”

He nodded once more. I quickly cleaned the bulging vein in the crook of his arm, sliding the needle in. His skin was already harder to the touch. If I waited any longer, the needle would’ve shattered against him. 

“Billy, we need to hurry this up.”

“Got it.” He crossed the barn and unlocked the two padlocks on the large steel cage they kept in there. Each brother had purchased multiple dog cages from different pet stores to avoid suspicion and welded them into a Rob-sized prison. Rob was barely strong enough to stand as he stumbled into his cage. Billy adjusted the heavy metal cuffs attached to the floor onto his wrists and ankles whilst I pulled the thick leather muzzle from Rob’s change night bag. 

I squatted down in front of my writhing husband. His eyes were already tainted by the strange glow of yellow. I kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you too.” His voice was starting to change. It was darker, spoken from the back of his throat.

I slipped the muzzle over his mouth, pulling it tight, stopping to stroke his hair. He snuggled into my palm, gazing up at me with those big, bright eyes.

“Bernie,” Billy rested his hand on my shoulder.

I left him to reattach the two padlocks and pull the large black-out blanket over the cage until I could no longer see my husband. I hit play on the CD player in the corner. It helped keep him calm. It had songs from our wedding, from birthdays and dates and concerts we’d been to. The first song was almost drowned out by the first growl to spring from the cage. We quickly left as Billy locked the heavy industrial padlock on the barn door.

“Drink?” He offered.

“I have to go get the girls.”

“Right. They OK?”

“Yeh, worried about their Daddy.”

“I’ll call you if he…Well, you know.”

“Thanks, Bill, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Get home safe, Bernie.”

I hated the drive back. I had a little cry and turned the radio as loud as I could stand. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to do in my marriage. I always made sure to wipe my eyes and apply mascara before I picked the girls up. They didn't need to see Mummy cry. With muddy knees and wayward hair they came running over to me leaning on the bonnet. 

“I got a red card!” Lola cheered as she jumped into my arms.

“Oh honey, that's not something to be proud of.” I kissed her forehead and got them both settled into the car. 

They gossipped and argued all the way home only deepening the splitting headache thumping behind my eyes. I wrangled them through the door with the promise of pizza. Our nighttime routines were hard enough to do when both of us were here but with only myself I took some shortcuts. Ordering pizza once in a full moon wouldn't kill them. Bubble bath and pajamas by 6 was actually the highlight of the month for them. We didn't do homework on full moons either which I think helped. When Daddy was away on his special trips I let them bring their duvets downstairs and we’d have a ‘sleepover’ together on the living room floor. Not that they slept very much. I couldn't tell them the thought of being alone in my bed those nights drove me mad but that was the truth. I snuggled them tightly against me, craving the blissful ignorance they had. This was the best day of the month for them, this day was special, they looked forward to it. For us it was Hell, worse even.

“Mummy,” Lola stirred, pulling on my shirt.

“Honey, why are you awake? Did you have a nightmare?” She nodded. I picked her up and brought her into my lap. “How about you go and get your book you were reading, Mummy can read to you until you settle down.”

“You don’t do the voices right. I want Daddy.”

“I know honey, I want Daddy too. But Mummy's here, tell Mummy what happened.”

“It was scary.” She didn't say more than that. I held her against me, gently thumbing through her ginger hair until she eventually dozed back off. 

Every thought I had was of their father writhing in pain as his limbs elongated and cracked. Screaming out as long razor fangs broke through his gums and claws split his finger tips. Every memory and emotion he had ever felt in his human mind slowly fading one by one until he wouldn't even recognise his own daughters. It was only for 12 short hours but it was far too long to be comfortable. I had hoped over the years the fear would dissipate but it didn't, every month, every moon, I was struck with burning anxiety right to my core. Because I knew a night like this was always coming, it was inevitable. 

Billy called me around 11:30pm. Three little words was all it took. His voice was cracking and shaking.

“He got out. He got out.”

My phone slipped from my hand and smashed on the kitchen floor. “Fuck,” I knelt down. It wouldn't switch back on. “Fuck.” My heart was pounding in my throat. I hadn't prepared for this. 

“Mummy?” Marie stood in the kitchen doorway. 

“Baby, why are you awake?”

“You said a bad word.”

“Baby, can you wake your sister up please? Grab your bears and put your little dressing gowns on. You're going to go next door for a sleepover.”

I scrambled together my essentials in my purse, car keys, extra meat, pepper spray. I returned to the living room to find two very tired little girls dressed and ready for their little adventure. I scooped Marie up in one arm and grabbed Lola’s hand with the other. I kicked shut the door, locking it quickly. I used my foot to knock on my neighbours door. She was a half-blind but well-intentioned older lady everyone on the street referred to as Mrs Anderson and never by a first name. The lights flicked on as she hobbled to the door.

“Bernie, have you any idea…oh sweetheart what’s the matter?” She reached out and stroked my arm, my fear evident on my face.

“Something bad has happened to Robert…”

“Go, don't worry about them, they're safe with me.” She took Marie from my arms and ushered in Lola. 

I've never driven faster in my life. I skipped red lights and exceeded speed limits. My eyes were glazed with tears that made the lights of other cars wobbly and wet. I shouldn't have driven in such a state, I knew it was dangerous, but I had to get to my husband. When I arrived at the farm, four of the Hurley boys were parked in the long muddy driveway. Some had even brought their wives. A search party of nine wasn't so bad.

“Where’s Billy? What happened?” I yelled, not even stopping to lock the car.

One of the wives I only saw at Christmas answered, “In the kitchen but he's in a bad state. Rob…” 

I ran past them straight through the door to him. He was sitting on one wooden chair with his leg propped on another. His little brother Kieran was tending to a large torn bite stretching the length of his calf. It was nasty, not a clean bite, it was mauled. Rob would never hurt his brother, not intentionally. He’d shoved a rag into Billy’s mouth whilst he poured what smelt like pure vodka over the bite, dabbing it clean as he went. 

“Bill.”

He pulled the rag out of his mouth to address me. “I'm so sorry, Bernie, I tried to keep him in. I don't think we got the ket in quick enough he was wide awake the entire transformation. He was in fucking agony, Bernie. He slipped right out of the cuffs and broke through the cage, right through the door. I offered him meat, I tried talking to him, but…fuck. Bernie, those toffs from up town are fox hunting this weekend, they’ve got traps set out there.”

“Where did he go?”

“He went straight for the fields at the back. I'm going to stay here with our Kieran in case he comes back. Can you divvy up the others?”

“He going to be OK, Kieran?”

“He needs a hospital but a few hours won't make much difference as long as I keep it clean.”

“Don't stand around here worrying about me, go find Robbie,” Billy protested. 

I did as he said. I sent the three happy non-lycanthrope-inflicted couples to the back fields, one to the east, one to the west and one heading straight south. I got back in my car and started retracing the long country lanes that circled the farm. 

Every shadow that moved in the midnight darkness seemed to mock me and every breath sounded like a howl in the near distance. I didn't know these roads all that well but Rob always said as long as you always take left turns when they appear you'll be right. I drove for an hour and a half with nothing. I didn't have my phone, if they'd found him they couldn't even reach me. I was such a shitty wife. My husband could be dead out there caught in some rich twat’s trap, or hit by a car, or lost and alone in some strange part of Springhollow. I was so caught up in the thoughts of never seeing him again that I almost didn't hit the brakes in time when he was standing right in front of me. 

Three foot tall paw to ear, six foot long tail to nose. Pitch black fur, inch long claws and teeth twice that. And those eyes. Those bright yellow eyes that glowed like torches in the darkness. He stood proud and intimidating with the carcass of some mangled, macabre furry thing hanging from his jaws. I didn't even kill the engine or turn off the headlights. I jumped straight out. With the opening of the door, Rob sprinted off across the road into the cover of the thick trees.

“Babe!” I shouted as I ran after him. He was so fast.

I could see his trail from the destroyed foliage and drops of crimson left in the dirt. I felt like a lunatic sprinting through the Springhollow woodland at 2am with no torch and no phone looking for my husband who was a fucking dog. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It was below freezing. I was only in trainers and leggings and a sleep shirt, I didn't even grab a jacket on my way out. I kept slipping on the mud and falling down. Each stumble was another minute for him to put more distance between us. I couldn't follow his prints anymore as the mud became too thick, too sticky. I couldn't run anymore, I couldn't walk. The next time I fell down I stayed down. I clutched my stomach and wailed. I couldn't do this. I couldn't do this anymore. I wanted to be at home with my husband and my baby girls. “Fuck you, Rob, fuck you,” I punched the solid ground beside me until my knuckles broke out in bruising. I shouldn’t have cursed him out, it wasn’t his fault but of all the men in the world I could’ve loved, all the fucking Glenn’s out there, I had to fall in love with him.

Then I heard him howl. Not a regular howl. It was a pained howl. It rang and echoed through the woods. I somehow dragged my body up and towards it. I ran with purpose, not falling and tripping. I could hear his gentle whimpers in the wind. My baby. I hadn’t run so efficiently since before I had kids.

I found him, whining and bleeding. He was on the ground amongst the mud and the leaves. A huge clamp of a steel trap was slicing and cutting into his back legs. The small wounds were ripped wider as he struggled against it, the squelching flesh pulsing and oozing. His breathing was shallow, his tongue panting out of his hot mouth. I crept towards him like a wild animal, like he wasn't the man I married. He saw me coming out of the corner of his burning eye. He snarled at me, gnashing his teeth. He didn't have the fight left to lunge for me. He just laid there placid, resigned to his fate. 

“Babe…” I crouched down, not close enough for him to get me, but close enough to know he could see me. I outstretched my hand towards him, moving slowly and deliberately. “Baby, it's me. It's Bernie.”

He growled at me, barked ferociously. I didn’t flinch, I didn’t pull my hand away.

“I need to get you out, I can help you. I did a summer job at a sanctuary, remember? I know how to get that thing off. But you have to let me do it, babe, you have to.” I stayed away from his face, his mouth. I approached his back but he still tried to inch away from me, whipping his neck frantically back at me. I dared not move fast enough to even wipe my own tears from my cheeks. “Babe. Robert. Let me help you.” My hand sank into his thick fur, he was so soft but matted and dirty at the same time. I couldn't reach his skin, it was so long and thick. But I know he could feel me. “I have a secret, Rob. I’m two weeks late.” He heard me, I know he did. His head rested quietly against the ground. The tension in his back eased. I reached one hand down towards the violent trap. There was a catch underneath the top side, if I flicked that I'd be able to pull it open and he could be free. At least with two fucked up legs he wouldn't be able run away from me. “I haven't taken a test yet. I thought when this cycle is over and you've had a couple of days to sleep, we could take a test together like we did with Marie. It feels like it did the first two times. Do you remember when we found out about Lola and I texted you from the loos at work? We weren’t trying and we didn’t know what to do. All worked out in the end though, didn't it?” My finger found the catch and lifted it. “She’s at home, waiting for herDaddy.” I slipped my hands between the thick, sharp metal teeth and grunted as I heaved them apart. He growled deep in his chest as the teeth slowly drew out of their tiny massacres. “Almost there, babe, almost there.” It took all the strength I had left in my shivering, wet body to pull the bastard thing open. But I did it, for him. As soon as I had, he dragged his body out attempting to run and collapsing in a heap after just a few steps.

I did the stupid thing and ran to his side. I expected his spit drenched jaws to clamp around me but he just laid there, panting. His big, pink tongue flopped out of the side of his mouth as delicate but hurt growls slipped from his throat. His great body was trembling as more and more deep, red blood flooded out of him. His eyelids were fluttering shut and open again. I buried my face into his fluffiness. “Breathe, babe, please. The sun's going to come up real soon.” Each breath was shallower than the last. “You can stay here, you can sleep but you have to breathe. You can't fucking leave me, Rob, I can't do this without you. Marie starts school in September, she's going to need her Daddy, you know I can't do any of that new maths shit they make them do.”

His head slowly swivelled to me. His eyes were glossed over, wet. The wolf was crying. He could hear me, he could see me, Rob could see me. He brought his damp, black nose up to meet my palm, sniffing aggressively. He turned his snout so I could rest my hand on it.

“I'm here, babe. Don't be afraid, I'm here. You're going to be fine.” No one knew how to comfort Rob better than me. “Do you remember when Lola started walking? You were taking a shit, I was taking a nap. You brought her into the bathroom with you so she didn't fucking play with knives or fire or anything. And you just screamed ‘Babe, she's doing it’ and you came and woke me up with your trousers still around your knees. I had been so tired for so long, everything was getting so intense but you and her were so fucking cute together I'd almost forgotten she was the reason I hadn't finished a mug of coffee in nearly two years. And she was so perfect, even if you did pass out before she got here. You maul foxes and rabbits but the state of me down there was enough to knock you out, you lightweight.” I found a spot behind his pointed ear where the scratching of my fingernails made him lean further into me with a gentle purr like a car engine. 

With my arms and his steady movements he was able to crawl his way into my lap. His crushing weight was uncomfortable on my thighs but I couldn't think of a better way to make sure he was still breathing. “You almost missed Marie entirely, you twat.” I choked back a laugh. “A fucking train delay. Nevermind a bear trap, I would've killed you myself if I had to do that alone. But we’ll be ready this time. Number three. We're going to have to convert your office, Lola will be demanding a big girl's bedroom soon and we’ll need somewhere for the new baby to sleep. And we'll do what we did with Marie. Whilst I'm pregnant, the girls and I will go stay with your Mum just so there aren't any accidents and we’ll miss you everyday but we can do the video calls and stuff again.” His breathing had finally fallen into a rhythm, slow but consistent. I hadn't even noticed the first flecks of orange in the black sky. “Babe, look, the sun babe. You did it, Rob.” 

For a moment it looked as though the beast was grinning. The sun would be up within the hour, whatever hour it was, and this would be over. But a new fear dawned on me. When this animal became my beautiful husband once again, would he be healed? Would he be able to stand and walk with me? How would I get him back to the car, the car that had been running all night with the lights on and the radio blaring? Could a man survive this kind of trauma to his body? I pressed my lips into his strong, hard back, breathing in his muddy, wet smell. I was going to burn these clothes the second I got home. I stayed there, kissing and stroking him, waiting for the light to take over. 

His scream was close to human. The gold kiss of the sun rained over us. His spine was the first to shrink back to size. His legs were slowly pushed back together as his back crunched and arched. I held him down against my lap, fighting to keep him in place. He snarled and spat through his teeth, taking short, sharp, wheezing breaths. His howls were burning through from his gut as his body contorted and twisted until it was no bigger than a regular house dog. His legs, the cut and the uncut, retracted up into him. With every sickening, gut churning snap of bone his cries became more and more like screams I could recognise. His claws tore into my legs as he tried to clutch onto something. I winced and cried out but I wouldn't let go of him. He whipped his head back and a flash of blue momentarily cut through the yellow of his irises. It took so long for the fur to get sucked back into his skin, leaving a red blotted rash across the soft skin underneath. His exhausted wails had faded to delicate pants as his tongue rolled back into his mouth. His face crushed in on itself until his broad, crooked nose and dry, wide mouth surfaced. 

“B-B-B-B-B…” he stammered with a gruff hoarseness caught like spit in the back of his throat.

“I'm here, Babe, I'm here.”

He snorted through the last of his agony. When his hand was once again nail, flesh and fingers, he gripped mine, interlocking our fingers. His naked body was coated in cold sweat, deep cuts, scratches and littered with deep bruising. He groaned and whined as he threw up a strange bloody, stringy substance over the muddy ground. I stroked his hair out of his face. He was almost back. I finally felt courageous enough to glance down at his legs. It wasn't just the skin that was ripped. I saw muscle pulsing and nerves bulging and white bone shattered and splintering. From the knees to his ankles they were shredded with bleeding wounds staining us both. He started to shake, convulse. I shushed him gently, pulling his body against mine until the fit stopped. I cradled his head into my neck. He was so cold. I put my hand against his chest. His lungs were fighting for air and his heart was beating slowly, out of rhythm. He was human again and he was dying in my arms.

I couldn't lift him. I fought to my feet but my own sore and bleeding legs couldn't hold my own body nevermind both of ours. I collapsed down next to him. He was so beautiful.

“Billy!” I yelled as loud as I could. I didn't know how far from the farm I was, I didn't know if anyone would hear me. I couldn't walk and neither could he. “Kieran!” Even when my throat was raw and my own stomach panged with soreness from the desperation of my cries I kept yelling for them. “Billy! Kieran!”

It was faint. In the distance. “Bernadette!” I knew the voice was another brother but it was hard to tell which one.

“I'm here!”

“Bernadette!”

“Here.”

We yelled out to each other until he and his wife came into view. I lifted my blood stained hands into the air and waved them. They ran over to us. It was Jake, the baby of the bunch.

“Bernie, fuck, are you OK?” He wrapped his leather jacket around me. 

“Help him.” I clutched my husband’s body as it got colder by the second. 

Jake was mercifully big and was able to lift Rob over his shoulder with ease. His wife scooped her arm around my back and held me up. We were slow but moving. Eventually the rest of the search party were bounding over to us through the trees. Another brother took me up in his arms and was able to run with me. Rob hadn't woken up. I couldn't stay awake any more. I was so cold, so tired. It was all too much. 

The ambulance was warm. They'd wrapped me in this large foil sheet like a big turkey as they slipped an IV into the back of my hand. I opened my eyes to the strange light and the paramedics at each side.

“Bernadette, can you hear me, lovey?” A soft but authoritarian voice greeted me. The blonde woman to my right.

I nodded. My legs had been strapped down to whatever bed or stretcher they had me on. “My husband…”

“He's fine.”

“Bill…”

“They're on their way to the hospital. We need to get you warmed up.”

“I'm pregnant…”

“Alrighty, lovey, you just stay nice and calm. We're going to get some fluids in you. You and baby are going to be just fine.”

She eased an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. I knew we were a ways out from the hospital so I allowed myself to fall back into the gentle sleep that called me. We had been found, saved.

I didn't even need stitches in the end, just a good clean up, some bandages and a couple weeks of physio. They got me into a private room with a little window overseeing the car park. They kept me hooked up to some saline shit all morning until someone finally brought me something to eat. They brought me a phone so I could speak to my little girls. Mrs Anderson agreed to take them for as long as I needed. I was pregnant, they confirmed. About 8 weeks along. Rob had been in surgery since we got here. Billy had been all patched up and discharged but given the circumstances they let him come and sit with me. They wanted to keep me in to monitor the baby. I couldn't shake the image of Rob in such agony, writhing in the dirt. The way his eyes begged for relief that I couldn't give him. Everytime I asked for an update, no one could tell me anything.

It was late into the next evening before we got news. A nurse came in with a sombre look on his face and guided me into a wheelchair. He took me across the hospital. He told me it would be a shock but they did all they could. Those words brought me no comfort. 

Rob was alive and awake. He was sitting in bed, his eyes all puffy and red with wires and tubes coming out his arms and chest. His left leg was bandaged up and held suspended in a sling. His right leg stopped at the knee with nothing below. The nurse rolled me next to him and left us alone. He couldn't look at me.

“Babe…”

“I'm so sorry, Bernie,” he wept almost instantly. “I hurt you.”

I shook my head, clasping his IV punctured hand in mine. “Don't you dare.”

“Is the baby fine?”

I nodded, grateful to see the small smile I loved so dearly flash across his face for a second.

“And the girls? They're…”

“Safe with Mrs Anderson. Babe…how are you?”

“I don't know.” 

I pushed myself up from the chair, wrangling my IV stand with me. I sat with him on his small, hard bed. I brought his big, warm hand against my stomach. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. 

“We're going to be OK, Rob.”

“I could've killed you. And the baby.”

“But you didn't.” I rested my hand against his tear-dampened cheek. 

“They couldn't save my leg. I've already had one blood transfusion and they want to do another, I could be in here for weeks. And even when I get out what use am I going to be to you? Look at me.” He squeezed my hand. “I let you down.”

“Never. We're going to get through this. You and me and Marie and Lola and the baby. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out, we always do. Some of the shit we’ve put up with, we’re experts in figuring stuff out as we go.” 

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because a nice boy like you deserves it.”

He held my hand and cradled my stomach, nodded softly and whispered, “OK, Bernie, OK.”

I settled my hands on top of his. “OK.”