For all of MJF's Primeval and Doctor Who stories
Series 2 Episode 6
Dazed and confused, Yasmin couldn’t make sense of anything around her. She could barely focus on her own hands, and the room was filled with blurred colours and shapes moving violently in every direction. She felt seasick, like she was on a tiny rowing boat that swished and swayed with even the tiniest of waves.
People seemed to be running all over the place, screaming at the top of their lungs. What the heck was happening? Yasmin tried to make her way to the front door but walking in a straight line was difficult. She felt someone grab her arm and yank her upstairs. She looked up and saw the vague outline of Freddie. Was she hallucinating? Maybe drinking all that alcohol wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“What’s going on?” she slurred.
“Shh,” Freddie whispered, “I’ll explain later. Drink this.” He handed her a bottle of water. She grabbed it keenly and swigged a large amount while hurrying into Jono’s bedroom. He shut the door quickly behind them, and finally, Yasmin could focus. She saw Drew, Lily, Josh and George already there, sat patiently on the bed.
“Where are Dylan and Jono?” Yasmin worriedly asked, seeing they were missing. She was met with blank stares in response, doing nothing to calm her fears. In fact, it just accelerated them.
Keeping his head down, Dylan was terrified. The commotion downstairs had quietened down, but Mr. Forsyth had gone inside and was yet to leave. All sorts of scenarios were running through his mind. Had Drew and Freddie shown up? Were Yasmin and Lily safe? Did they know Dylan’s secret? It was too much to consider.
He was lying on the treehouse floor with Jono. Normally he would be enjoying every second that he’s in close proximity with Jono, but neither of them were in the mood.
“Why are they here? Like, it’s private property, which means them trespassers. We should call Sheriff Taylor,” Jono suggested.
“We can’t. Sheriff Taylor doesn’t know about us. What if he found out and agrees with them? It’s too risky,” Dylan considered.
“They’re still trespassing,” Jono noted.
“They have guns, I don’t think they care,” Dylan rebutted.
“So what can we do?” Jono wondered, “We’re stuck up here, my house is getting trashed, and everyone in-the-know is either missing or inside that house.”
“Not everybody,” Dylan thought aloud. Instantly, he slid his phone out of his pocket. Thankfully, it was already on silent, so any notifications wouldn’t give away his location. He began searching for one particular contact, desperate for a favour.
“What are we supposed to do? Just sit here?” Freddie paced back and forth. He was feeling restless and uncomfortable in his skin. He just couldn’t settle no matter how hard he tried.
“Shut up you idiot. They’re not meant to know we’re here,” Drew harshly whispered.
“Don’t call my brother an idiot,” George immediately leapt to Freddie’s defence. His voice didn’t raise above a whisper still, but he sounded as angry as possible considering.
“Who even are you? You’ve been here for five seconds, don’t start barking orders,” Drew stood up, acting confrontational.
“Stop it!” Lily commanded, looking primarily at George. He always listened to her. As if he would ignore his crush.
“Sorry,” George sat back down like a naughty school kid. Freddie continued pacing back and forth, unable to shake this sudden burst of anxiety.
“For god’s sake, please sit down Fred, you’re making me nervous,” George nagged.
“It’s the full moon. He’s feeling the effects. They sure timed this attack well,” Yasmin explained.
“It’s your dad, could you not have stopped this? Heck, bow do we know you’re not a mole?” Drew ranted.
“That’s enough,” Lily scolded, “We’re all in this together. Now we need to work out how to get our asses out of here.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Josh noted. He had otherwise kept quiet thus far. Freddie still wasn’t sure he trusted Josh, but he had been strangely helpful recently. Maybe he had turned a corner after all, “They’re armed. I’ve met hunters before. They won’t stop at anything until we’re dead.”
“You’ve got a lot in common with them, then,” Yasmin remarked. The tension in the room was off the scale.
“I’m trying my best here,” Josh snapped, clearly offended by her comment, “I don’t know why anything in the past is so important when right here, right now, we’re all screwed.”
Immediately after Josh finished his sentence, he collapsed, dropping to the floor like a lead balloon. He clenched his chest, as if he’d just been shot. Freddie immediately rushed to his aide. Obviously, his reflexes remembered the Josh that used to be his friend.
Immediately, Josh began to convulse, shaking violently as a thick black liquid trickled out of his mouth.
Jono was frustrated. It had been twenty minutes since Dylan made the phone call, and nobody had arrived. The gates on his driveway had been wide open all night thanks to the party, making it exceedingly easy to get in. He still didn’t know if anybody was still in the house; nobody was responding to his messages. Even Lily, who was glued to her phone twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Equally, they wouldn’t know where he and Dylan were. Perhaps they needed a signal.
“Dylan, would a howl signal our location to the others?” Jono thought aloud, breaking the anxious silence between them both.
“Yeah, Drew would certainly be able to track us using it,” Dylan replied, “But what if the hunters track it too?”
“You’ve got better hearing than us humans. If they pinpoint us, it’s luck on their part,” Jono considered.
“Gotta be worth a shot,” Dylan nodded, bracing himself. He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he unleashed the wolf that he’d spent so much effort burying inside. The howl pierced through Jono’s eardrums and was likely audible several streets away. The hunters would totally have heard it, but Jono just had to pray they wouldn’t get found.
Immediately, Drew recognised the howl. Dylan was part of his pack, he could identify that howl from miles away. This wasn’t miles away though. In fact, it was very, very close to him. Dylan hadn’t abandoned them.
That said, Dylan can’t have known where they were. The howl wasn’t just a signal, it was an invitation for Drew to howl back.
“Was that Dylan?” Lily keenly asked.
“He’s signalling his location to us,” Freddie identified. Thank god Drew had at least one werewolf with him. He’d go insane explaining everything from scratch.
Freddie was still tending to Josh on the floor. He had rolled him over into the recovery position, as instructed by Yasmin, and he had stopped violently shaking. Now he was unconscious. Drew needed him to wake up sooner rather than later – they couldn’t be carrying him around. It would slow them down too much.
That was a problem to be solved later, as Drew’s ears picked up the heart-stopping sound of footsteps coming up the staircase. Had they been rattled?
“Quiet,” Drew ordered as faintly as he could. Everyone stood there confused, except for Freddie who heard it too. A door across the corridor was kicked open, the shattering bang filling all of their eardrums in an instant.
Drew positioned himself in front of the door, ready to fight. He needed to signal back to Dylan, but it sounded like the hunters still didn’t know for sure they were in the house. A howl would confirm it even to a human’s shoddily basic hearing.
Another door bashed open; this time it was nearer. Even Drew flinched. He allowed himself to shift. The wolf was what they wanted, after all. It was only right that they met face-to-face. Drew’s claws were ready for some long-awaited action.
Freddie joined him side-by-side. Perhaps the moon’s impact might actually be a helping hand. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, ready for that weak bedroom door to be blasted open.
No response. Dylan was getting concerned. Drew should have returned the call. It was unlikely that he wouldn’t have heard it, the howl would have carried for miles to a werewolf’s hearing. This must have meant trouble. For whatever reason, he’s not able to howl back.
Dylan looked at his phone. Still no update from his earlier call. Why was nobody replying to him? Then he heard it. The commotion inside the house. It was probably outside of Jono’s hearing range; the windows were shut and the treehouse wasn’t especially close to the house. Dylan carefully propped his head to the windowsill, allowing no more than his eyes to pop up above it.
“Careful!” Jono whispered boldly, “Is there a problem?”
“I can hear voices. Well, more like shouting and screaming,” Dylan worriedly informed.
“Shit. Who is it?” Jono worried.
“I can’t tell,” Dylan replied, attempting to focus his hearing. He still hadn’t quite worked out how to control his hearing abilities. There was no manual after all.
“Oi!” a deep male voice yelled from below.
“Crap, we’ve been rumbled,” Jono panicked. Dylan’s heart sunk in fear. He glanced his eyes to the ladder, and sure enough, a big, burly, scary-looking man was now climbing the treehouse latter. He had to think of a plan, and fast.
BASH! The bedroom door flung open, almost flying off its hinges. Drew barely flinched. He was prepared.
He could smell the fear on Freddie though. He hadn’t seen hunters before. Not like Drew. He had a score to settle.
Now stood in front was a tall white guy, flanked with a large gun and a scowl. From behind, another figure overtook. He carried no weapons, but if looks could kill, he’d be serving life.
“Hello darling,” he grinned, staring straight past Drew. It was her dad. Finally, Drew could put a name to that face. A face that had haunted his nightmares for many years. He glanced back and saw Yasmin sobbing. She was already drunk, her emotions heightened. She could barely look at him. He continued, “I need to talk with your friends Drew and Josh.”
“No. You can speak to us all,” Yasmin firmly responded. For someone so drunk, she seemed perfectly sober when issuing her commands.
“I won’t ask twice,” Mr. Forsyth patronised. His voice alone sent shivers through Drew’s spine. Memories of being hunted years ago still hurt like hell.
“Save your breath then,” Yasmin stood firm. Lily rubbed her shoulder, comforting and supporting her, “If you have to speak to Drew and Josh, you have to speak to me too.” Drew watched as Mr. Forsyth digested that information, his face sinking with the realisation over what his daughter is.
Heart beating louder than ever, Jono had armed himself. The resources in the treehouse were limited, so he had to make do with the lamp that was being used for mood lighting. The only mood he felt now was fear, and no light would change that.
The thudding footsteps grew louder as the hunter climbed the treehouse ladder. With every step, Jono grew more and more anxious. He stood to the left of the doorway, out of view, with Dylan on the right. His eyes were glowing yellow, ready to go full wolf on the hunter’s ass if needed.
Dylan gave a nod. The hunter was very close. Jono could tell for himself though. He didn’t need any special wolf hearing to hear the hunter’s footsteps grind to a halt just outside the doorway.
Then, silence. Jono had never heard such deafening silence, and it continued for a few moments. What was he doing? There was nothing to pinpoint any movement, and on the wooden surface, every noise reverberated. He looked at Dylan to see if he was picking up anything different. He pulled a frowning expression. Obviously not. He saw Dylan lean his head around the door-ledge, trying to get a clearer picture.
Before he could relay anything back, he was grabbed and yanked outside. Jono sprung to action, standing in the doorway with the lamp primed. He saw the guy holding Dylan in a tight headlock. He produced a blade from his pocket and held it to a struggling Dylan’s arm.
Without a second thought, Dylan’s arm was cruelly sliced open, the wound about five centimetres in length. Dylan winced, and Jono’s heart broke. Why was he doing this? However, as usual, the wound healed within seconds.
“Ah, we’ve got another one,” the guy announced. Shit. Dylan had been caught out.
Before Jono could leap to Dylan’s defence, a loud THWACK sounded. The guy clumped down into a heap on the floor. Dylan moved away in a flash, and they both immediately had to check out what, or rather who, had happened. Stood boldly and proudly behind him was Mrs. Johnson, holding a large gun in her hands.
“Sorry I’m late. The traffic was murder,” she smiled arrogantly. Nevertheless, Jono had never been so pleased to see his irritating biology teacher.
Trying to stay focused was a huge challenge for Yasmin. Her dad had demanded that the others leave them alone to have a private chat; a chat she certainly didn’t want to be having in her current state of mind. As far as she knew, the others were being kept under lock and key in another room.
Ugh. Why was her dad such an asswipe? Her mum never would have stood for this. Unless she was in on it all along. Yasmin was now questioning every inch of her life. It was nothing but shit.
“I bet you’re more than a little confused right now. I know I am,” Mr. Forsyth began. He was trying and failing to sound sympathetic.
“Nope, not remotely,” Yasmin defiantly stated. She wasn’t here for any bullshit, “You want to kill my friends for what they are. It’s sick but it’s not confusing.”
“They’re dangerous animals, sweetie,” Mr. Forsyth attempted to justify. Yasmin scoffed at the word “sweetie,”. Her dad had never shied away from a little bit of patronisation, but the temerity of this was on a new level.
“They’re people like you and me. They’re not dangerous. They’re just different. That’s the problem with this world. It punishes anything and anyone that’s different,” Yasmin ranted. It felt good to get it out of her system.
“And you’d know. I need the details, Yasmin,” Mr. Forsyth commanded. Yasmin considered her response. He was going to find out one way or the other, although she wished her drunk ass had kept quiet in the first place. He needed the full truth.
“I got scratched by a beta,” Yasmin carefully left Dylan’s name out, “It changed me. I’m not a werewolf. I’m part nix. It means I…”
“I know what a nix is,” Mr. Forsyth interjected, “The shape you take reflects the person you are. That’s the myth.”
“Meaning?” Yasmin wondered what her dad was inferring.
“You’re not like them,” Mr. Forsyth conclude, “A nix isn’t ideal but as far as the supernatural goes, it’s one of the most peaceful creatures. No claws, no hunting urge.”
“It’s not one rule for me and one for everyone else, dad,” Yasmin scolded. He didn’t deserve the title “dad,” but she said it like a reflex. Old habits die hard.
“I’d better have a word with your so-called friends,” Mr. Forsyth deflected and stood up. Yasmin sighed. He was too stubborn to listen to her. Drew certainly wouldn’t be so patient.
Meanwhile, just next door, Lily was trying desperately to figure a way out. It was her own bedroom, and never had she wanted to be there less. Her own house had become a prison of sorts, and she couldn’t think of a way out that didn’t involve punching up the hunters stood guarding either the bedroom door or the outside gate. It wouldn’t end well for anyone.
She just had to pray that Jono would come and rescue her. Dylan was nearby, Lily assumed Jono would stick with him. As if he needed an excuse to leave Dylan’s side.
On the bright side, Josh was coming around slightly. He was mumbling the same words over and over again.
“Alpha. Beta. Omega.”
It was obviously pissing Drew off. Not that it ever took much to do that. Freddie was sat crouched into a ball in the corner, looking uncomfortable. George went to approach him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
As Freddie looked up, Lily saw the bright yellow of his eyes. It was the full moon. He was attempting to control himself, and doing the best damn job he’d done thus far. Maybe there was hope for them all.
“Where is Dylan? I thought he was nearby. He should’ve come by now, right?” George turned around towards the group.
“Maybe he is on his way. Dylan’s never let us down before,” Lily responded.
“He’s taking his goddamn time,” George sighed. Lily understood his frustration. She trusted Dylan implicitly, she even considered him family now, but he sure was taking his time to find them.
“I think he’s got his own problems. Look,” Drew commanded. He was gazing out of Lily’s bedroom window onto a view that included the front garden, main gate and treehouse. Lily rushed to join him, peeling back the net and staring into the dark outside world. Oh, how she wished she could be breathing in that fresh, safe air.
The treehouse was still lit, and a large, burly man was climbing the ladder. Oh shit. Dylan and Jono must have still been up there. She watched on with her heart in her mouth, noticing Jono priming himself with a lamp and hiding behind the door. She could hardly watch.
Within an instant, the hunter somehow had Dylan in a headlock. Jono was in front, stood watching helplessly. She feared the worst.
All of a sudden, she noticed Mrs. Johnson stood behind the man, and with a simple whack of the back of her gun, he was on the floor. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Maybe we’re not totally out of luck,” Lily smiled, feeling more optimistic. As soon as she finished her sentence, the door behind burst open.
“I need to speak to Drew and Josh,” Mr. Forsyth announced immediately as he entered the room, “The rest of you can go.”
Lily glanced at Freddie, who was keeping his head down. She didn’t want to leave the others alone, but Mr. Forsyth still didn’t know about Freddie. They had to get him out.
“We’ll be fine,” Drew reassured Lily. Obviously they shared the same way of thinking.
“Stay safe,” Lily smiled at Drew. She couldn’t believe she was actually beginning to care for him. She took George’s hand, helping him up, and they both escorted Freddie swiftly out of the room. Thankfully, he kept his head down, eyes out of sight.
“Too much to drink,” Lily explained to Mr. Forsyth on their way out. Then they picked up the pace. She had never wanted to leave her own house so badly.
Racing towards the front door, Dylan was concerned at how quickly and brazenly Mrs. Johnson was walking towards the house, which would almost certainly be riddled with hunters.
“Slow down,” he requested. Mrs. Johnson stopped immediately.
“What’s up?” she asked. She didn’t sound particularly sincere, but equally that seemed to be her default setting.
“We can’t go in there, it’s not safe,” Dylan justified.
“Why not? Jeff did a recce downstairs for me and took out any hunters,” she pointed to a tall, muscly man in his forties with not a single spec of hair on his head. Dylan had seen him with Mrs. Johnson before, but he had never spoken. Quite frankly, he looked terrifying.
“Oh,” Dylan responded, “Let’s go then.” He sighed, feeling like a spare part. He rolled his eyes to Jono, who giggled in response.
The front door was already wide open. Jeff led the way, followed by Mrs. Johnson, Dylan and then Jono. Dylan stepped over one of the lifeless hunter’s bodies. He desperately hoped he was still alive; he didn’t know Mrs. Johnson’s way of working. There was no time to check either way though. His friends were more important in that moment. He had lives to save.
“You should go,” Dylan whispered to Jono, feeling very concerned, “Keep yourself safe.”
“Thanks, but I’m not leaving you. You’ll need my back-up,” Jono smiled. He was too sweet. As they approached the staircase at the end of the corridor, which felt much longer than usual, Dylan heard voices approaching.
“Someone’s coming,” he quietly notified. Jeff immediately primed his weapon and pointed it up the staircase.
“Hold up!” a familiar female voice came from the top of the stairs.
“Don’t shoot,” Dylan ordered, pushing to the front of the procession to see who was at the top of the stairs. Holding her hands up in innocence was Lily, with George and Freddie behind her, “They’re fine, come on down. Where are the others?”
“Yasmin’s dad has them. Josh is barely conscious, Yasmin is drunk and Drew is Drew. His men are armed,” Lily explained, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She flung her arms around both Dylan and Jono at the same time. Dylan felt her relief and shared it. He knew that Jono would be feeling doubly relieved to see his sister.
“You need to get out of here. You’ll be fine to stay at mine tonight, my mum is working late,” Dylan offered, noticing how uncomfortable Freddie looked. He couldn’t stay there any longer. He was the only werewolf among them that hadn’t yet been exposed.
“Alright,” Lily nodded as Dylan tossed his keys to her. She caught them perfectly as they rushed off through the front door.
“Right, let’s go,” Dylan was ready to resume the mission. Three down, three more to save.
Called into Lily’s room, Yasmin sat on the bed and sulked. She was fed up of her interfering excuse for a father. Drew was stood by the windows, and Josh was sat up on the floor against the wardrobe. He was silent and awake but looking vacant and unfocused.
The door was shut and her dad was blocking it, with a tall guard with short cropped afro hair and a hard face to his left, holding a pile of metal chains. No escape.
“Are you gonna kill us then? Can’t we get it over with?” Drew remarked. Yasmin kinda loved his no-nonsense approach. For a change it was actually coming in handy.
“We have a code as hunters. We don’t just kill anything with claws instantly. However, someone’s claws infected my daughter. Nine times out of ten, you’d have gotten away scot-free, but the scratch of a beta transformed her. I need to know which one of you it was,” Mr. Forsyth spoke calmly, clearly and with plenty of authority.
Shit, Yasmin thought. She knew it was neither of them, but she was protecting Dylan. She hoped Drew would too.
“It wasn’t me. Or him, for that matter,” Drew responded, speaking on Josh’s behalf too.
“Oh, you’re making my job harder, Drew. A shame,” Mr. Forsyth said as he reached behind him. The hunter passed him an electric rod, before approaching Drew with the chains.
“He’s right,” Yasmin cried out. She hated the entire situation, and the thought of anything bad happening to Drew filled her with dread.
“Who was it then, honey? Tell me and I’ll leave these two to get on with their miserable existence,” Mr. Forsyth threatened.
Yasmin was stuck. Helping Drew meant fucking up Dylan’s life. Her dad was guaranteed to be extra annoyed at Dylan. He had never liked him.
Before she could answer, Yasmin noticed a thud outside. Mr. Forsyth turned around too.
“Clarkson, report,” he yelled. He must have been referring to the hunter on the other side of the door. No response, “Jogo, check outside.” He referred to the hunter inside the room, holding the chains, which he subsequently dropped to the ground with a loud bump. He rapidly opened the door, and before Yasmin could process it, a splatter of blood shot across Lily’s room. Sharp claws had slashed Jogo’s throat open without a second thought.
Yasmin sat up, looking to see who it was. There was no way this was Dylan or Freddie. Even the full moon wouldn’t lead them to an act like this. She was right, as he stepped through the door.
There stood Oli, covered in blood, and quite obviously craving more with his deep blue eyes fixated on her dad.
“I think we need to talk,” Oli stated firmly. Instead of replying, Mr. Forsyth slid a gun out of his back pocket and instantly primed it.
“No!” Yasmin yelled. No more death. She leapt out of the bed and wrestled her dad to get the gun.
BANG. BANG. Followed by nothing but silence.