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You don't waste any time second-guessing yourself—Sonoma can't be allowed to go through with her plan. You spring forward on coiled legs and Bly joins you, her ebony fur rippling, muscles contorted by rage. Sonoma jerks to her feet. She seems astonished that you would take steps against her, but that confusion quickly melts away, revealing the anger that you knew would be waiting under the surface. She snatches up the canister and holds it cradled in her left arm, claws clinking along its metallic surface.

"You would challenge me?" she roars, leaping backward to avoid your attack. "You could have been someone! You were nothing but discarded trash when you arrived in my camp!"

Bly circles around to her right while you move to her left. A quiver runs down Sonoma's spine. Fear? Or is she coiling up for her next attack? Tiva starts forward reluctantly, and you can tell she's choosing her next move carefully.

Bly darts forward, plunging her claws toward Sonoma's chest while you feint a mirror image of her attack. When Sonoma shifts back to parry your simultaneous strikes on her front, you dive behind her, raking your claws over her legs to hamstring her—if you can limit her movement, the battle will be over in seconds.

Sonoma manages to jerk forward at the last second and you miss your mark, your momentum pulling you past her and into the corner of the room. By the time you've reversed course, Sonoma has already laid Bly flat with a bone-crunching punch to the jaw. Tiva falls back; she's fought dozens of humans, but her inexperience fighting other werewolves is clearly playing on her nerves. You leap in, hoping to at least grab the canister, but without Bly to distract her Sonoma's able to sidestep your attack with ease. As you fly past, she kicks you, curved nails tearing at your back. Tiva runs over to help you get back up, but by then it's too late.

Sonoma places her cylinder inside the ventilation system and twists a valve. A high-pitched hissing sound fills the room. "You might as well stay and watch, Holstein," she says. "I can forgive this one attack as a result of your battle-rage, but it's over now. The work is done."

A sharp creaking sound draws your attention back to the hatchway door as Bly throws the deadbolts open and stalks out into the dark. Moments later, Tiva follows her with a backward glance to suggest you follow. A morbid curiosity holds you in place. You could never justify this kind of experiment, but what if Sonoma is right? What if the gas works?

A loud metallic crash draws your attention back to the basement lab, and you join Sonoma to watch the transformations unfold. One of the scientists staggers over a wheeled metal table, sending its contents crashing to the floor as she scrapes at her belly with lengthening claws. Buttons pop and clothing tears as every human in the room changes, their bodies growing, hair sprouting in ragged patches, bones cracking and re-arranging themselves. Accustomed as you are to the sounds accompanying the change, you were prepared for the popping and snapping, but it's the screams that eat away at your sanity—an undulating choir of terrified voices in a symphony of whimpers and throat-rending agony.

"Gods. It's actually working!"

"Now maybe they'll understand the slightest thing about our species' suffering."

"They're terrified! How could we have allowed this to happen?"

"This is wrong. There's no way around it."

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"It seems to be," Sonoma says. She appears almost surprised.

Without warning, the scientist closest to the doorway gurgles an attempted howl as a river of dark-red bile vomits forth from her half-wolven maw. She falls to her knees, gasping and choking, and within seconds the remaining humans follow suit, covering the lab floor with pools of thick, bloody vomit. The men and women collapse, half-transformed, mutated into unrecognizable abominations. The closest woman tries to roll over onto her side, her breathing labored, lips blowing an array of foamy bubbles as she disgorges a seemingly-impossible volume of filth.

Sonoma shakes her head, disappointed. "Damn shame. Complete rejection, ruptured organs, death to come within minutes. Looks like I missed the mark."

"What the hell? You thought this might have a chance of happening?"

"What kind of monster are you?"

"What these people were doing was wrong, but they didn't deserve…this!"

"To hell with them. They wouldn't have cared if this was happening to us."

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Sonoma rolls her eyes. "A practical one. In science, sacrifices must be made. Experiments carried out. Evolution is a messy business. Creatures die. People die. It's just a fact of life." Sonoma clucks her tongue; it sounds eerie echoing from a canine muzzle. "It's only a waste if we don't learn from it."

Before you can respond, half a dozen other wolves careen down the stairs and make a bee-line for you and Sonoma—they're covered in wounds and looking none too pleased with their leader. Several of them slip in the bloody remains of the scientists; they look like they can't decide between feral rage and being sick.

"Damn it," Sonoma growls under her breath while glancing over to you. "Recriminations will have to wait until later." She raises her voice and addresses the other wolves. "We've done what we came here to do—we took the base out!"

"What the hell happened here?" one of the wolves asks as he tries to swallow down a visceral reaction to the mutated corpses in the other room. "All of a sudden they all started puffing up and…"

Sonoma slaps his muzzle none-too-gently. "I need you to keep your shit together until we're out of here, Yaz. You hear me?" The wolf nods in submission, but his eyes are blazing. "Good. Let's get out of here."

Next Chapter

Chapter 7 Fractures

"I view evolution as nature's search for the ultimate perfection of biology. At times I wonder what a realization of that goal would look like. What awaits us at evolution's end?" - Maker, speaking to her father five years before the founding of Haven

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There is little conversation during the drive back to Sonoma's compound—most of the pack are exhausted, and even Sonoma's own loyalists appear discontent with their leader's choices if you're reading their grumbling and twitching claws correctly. Sprawled out in the back of a flat-bed truck, you shift your gaze upward, watching trees whip by in the dark, backlit by the light of the half-moon. It's almost impossible to scrub the visions of the violently mutating scientists from your brain, their pain etched indelibly on your memory for what may be the rest of your life.

I don't feel bad for them. They got what they deserved for attacking my pack.

It should never have happened. I wish I could have stopped Sonoma before it was too late.

I feel bad about what happened, but the whole operation was for the good of the pack.

I'm wracked with guilt. I may never be able to forgive myself for allowing this to happen.

It doesn't matter much to me one way or the other. Tests are necessary when perfecting a weapon.

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Not far to your right, one of the former prisoners groans in pain as he applies a fresh bandage to a gaping wound that stubbornly refuses to close, even in werewolf form. You rise slowly on aching legs to go help him when a nearby hand reaches up to grab your arm. You look down into the eyes of one of Sonoma's personal guards; you think his name is Razath.

"Cen will heal eventually," Raz says with a dismissive frown. "Doesn't deserve any comfort either. He didn't follow orders and he hesitated when the fighting began."

"He was one of the prisoners," you reply. "He's probably not used to fighting."

"Not an excuse. I watched a good wolf die tonight, and he might still be alive if that jack-off had done his duty to the pack." He shakes his head as you start to reply. "No, I'm not petty enough to blame him completely—the HSM were the killers—but your pal over there needs his pain to remind him that cowardice has real-life consequences. When he heals, he'll remember, and he'll be better for it. The pack as a whole will be better for it."

Razath is right, Cen needs to learn something from his pain. The pack benefits from strength.

It's not right to leave someone to suffer alone. I do my best to comfort Cen and convince him he'll be okay.

It doesn't matter what Razath says. I'll use what medical training I can remember from my schooling in Haven to help ease Cen's pain.

I ask Razath about the wolf who died, ignoring Cen's whimpering. Someone who died in battle for our pack should be remembered.

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