For all of MJF's Primeval and Doctor Who stories
Series 1 Episode 7
Weak and wounded, Drew tried to crawl across the floor to try and find something to pull himself up with. He was using all of his energy to heal. The wound was so big that he needed to focus to heal, or he would be left with a gaping bullet hole dripping with blood in his leg.
It wasn’t the first time he had been shot, so he knew exactly what to do. He wondered if any thirteen-year-old had survived more bullets than he had. He did have an advantage though, with his healing powers. They were doing a damn good job too.
He heaved himself up using a ledge against the wall, and limped towards the door, jumping over the dead bodies that littered the dusty wooden flooring. He didn’t really know them, but he had found himself teaming up with them. They were among his few remaining allies. He only had one criteria for his friends nowadays – they had to be werewolves. Nobody else could be trusted.
He had to get home without any humans seeing him. He had done a good job of playing dead after he got shot, and he didn’t want anything to ruin his cover. The problem was that little remained of his home now. He only had the house his parents used to inhabit, and the alpha’s bunker. Not even the alpha was around anymore though. Drew was tempted to take the title for himself in her final moments, but that would have made him the number one target. No werewolf in Crystalshaw wanted to be the alpha.
Now all he had to do was keep a low profile. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive.
Shattered and exhausted, Dylan was trying to rest himself. However, his mind was running overtime and he couldn’t get to sleep.
On the bright side, he was sleeping next to Jono for the very first time. Neither of them fancied sneaking into their houses at such a late hour and risking the wrath of their parents, so they had snuggled up in the treehouse, with beanbags for pillows and a rug for a duvet. Whilst it was not the most comfortable place he had ever slept, Dylan enjoyed being next to Jono so much that he didn’t even care. He was on the right-hand side of the bed – always a personal preference of his – and he had his back to Jono as he tried to drift off. However, at least half an hour had passed since he said goodnight to Jono, and his body was refusing to sleep.
Fidgeting over onto his left side to face Jono, Dylan was surprised to see him wide awake too, and they were now facing each other eye-to-eye.
“Can’t sleep?” Jono spoke softly.
“My mind is doing overtime,” Dylan replied defeatedly.
“Same. What a rollercoaster of a day,” Jono reflected.
“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” Dylan felt bad. If it wasn’t for him, Jono and the others wouldn’t be in even the tiniest bit of trouble.
“No, it’s Josh’s fault. You got unlucky that night. It could have been anyone in the woods,” Jono reassured him. It was nice to hear those comforting words come out of Jono’s mouth.
“I wish there was some sort of cure,” Dylan thought.
“I don’t,” Jono replied, “I love you as you are. I don’t want you to change, even slightly.”
Dylan felt that warm fuzzy feeling filling him up once again. He never imagined Jono, or anyone, loving both him and the wolf the way he did.
“I guess I should apologise too,” Jono continued, “The way I reacted earlier was out of order. You deserve better.”
“Heat of the moment. It’s forgiven,” Dylan smiled, “Besides, I expected a much worse reaction. I thought I would lose you for good.”
“You will have to try harder than that,” Jono grinned devilishly. He kissed Dylan again. For a few moments, Dylan didn’t have a care in the world, and he loved it.
Having spent the full night at the bunker, Yasmin ached all over. She had no semblance of comfort, and only managed to drift off to sleep because her eyes could not physically stay open any longer. Lily was next to her, still asleep. Good for her. Yasmin was envious and was craving her own bed.
She checked her phone, the brightness almost blinding her. A new text from Dylan had arrived while she was asleep – “Long story but coast is clear.” That was good news. It meant she could finally get some fresh air. She nudged Lily gently to wake her up.
“What time is it?” Lily slurred, disorientated.
“Half nine,” Yasmin replied, “Come on, we’re going.”
“Huh? Has something happened?” Lily was confused.
“I don’t know, we’ll figure it out,” Yasmin responded. She wished she knew more. Not knowing was the worst.
“Where’s Drew?” Lily glanced around the bunker.
“I’ve not seen him, he must have scarpered earlier,” Yasmin suggested.
Lurking around a street in central Crystalshaw as the sun was beginning to rise, Drew was following his nose. Sleep wasn’t his top priority, so he had spent the early morning catching scents without the distractions of anyone else. None of them were of any help to him, even Dylan would be useless when he was so untrained.
He glanced up at the end of the trail – a fairly normal looking terraced house. Looking left and right to ensure nobody was watching, he cupped the door handle with his hand and broke the lock with one tiny movement.
He took a sniff once inside – it was all clear, except for that familiar scent of Josh, and the terrifying smell of blood. His nose led him upstairs, expertly following the trail left behind. It didn’t seem like Josh was here anymore – his scent was weaker than usual. Drew knew he wasn’t the most skilled werewolf out there, but his sense of smell was damn good. He almost never went wrong.
Up the stairs, the scent led him to a bedroom. Instantly, Drew noticed the blood-soaked duvet through the open doorway. Being extra careful, he scanned the room before entering. Nobody in sight. He glanced around for clues in the messy room with little floor space. A few photos on the wall next to the bed answered a huge question for Drew. It was Freddie’s house and bedroom – he featured in every one of the photos. The scent matched too. However, this left new questions in his mind. What would Josh want with Freddie? Weren’t Dylan and Jono going to visit him? Were they safe?
Drew almost laughed. He actually felt worried for Drummond. He couldn’t help it though. Dylan was a werewolf, and one on his team too. The only one. He felt protective even if he wasn’t sure he even liked the kid.
He reached into his pocket to get his phone out, but before he reached it, Drew heard a loud bang come from outside, as something shattered the glass window next to Freddie’s bed. The next thing Drew knew was that a throbbing pain was coming from his neck, and a purple gas invaded the air. Drowsy, Drew collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Up in the treehouse, the group has been reunited. Whilst Jono loved his night with Dylan, he was relieved to see Yasmin and especially Lily again after worrying about them all night. He watched them as they crept up the treehouse, not wanting to make any noise. Jono and Lily’s parents worked so hard throughout the week that they both slept like babies on weekend mornings. Waking them up would lead to a lot of unnecessary earache.
“Have you been out here all night?” Lily was judging Jono. He felt immediately defensive.
“It wasn’t the first time,” Jono responded firmly as if he were a little kid determined to prove his independence. As far as Lily was concerned, he was a little kid.
“Oh, it’s all coming out now,” Lily teased.
“Have either of you heard from Drew?” Yasmin changed the subject.
Yeah, he’s my best mate, he’s always messaging me, Jono thought sarcastically.
“Nothing,” Dylan replied much more diplomatically, “Is everything alright?”
“He wasn’t at the bunker this morning,” Yasmin informed.
“Should we be worried?” Jono asked, pretending he cared about Drew. He was always a total ass, even at junior high. Just because Dylan kind-of liked him, it didn’t mean he did too.
“Josh said we had until Monday, he won’t have attacked any of us now. He’s a lot of things but I don’t think he’s a liar,” Dylan reasoned.
“He’s not the only one though,” Lily mentioned, “We saw them yesterday, they were tracking Josh.”
“Who?” Dylan looked worried and confused. Jono felt much the same.
Drew told us,” Yasmin explained.
“Wait, hunters?” Dylan had never looked so panicked. He looked as uncomfortable at the idea as Jono felt.
“Werewolf hunters, about four or five of them,” Yasmin continued. Jono glanced at Dylan. As if he needed another problem to add to his list. The look on his face broke Jono’s heart.
Shattered, this was somehow the scariest revelation of Dylan’s week. Hunters? Hunting him? That was terrifying, and it made him feel helpless. Not only was he struggling to accept himself, but it just confirmed that other people may never accept him either.
“Who are they? Maybe they don’t know about you yet?” Jono pondered, glancing to Dylan.
“I don’t know. Besides, they know about Josh. If they know about him, it’s only a matter of time until you’re discovered, Dylan,” Yasmin considered.
“I’ll be dead without Drew,” Dylan tried to think rationally, but it was difficult. Drew, as much as he hated to admit, helped him to see clearly. If he wasn’t around, he stood no chance against these people.
“We have to find him,” Lily added.
“How? We know nothing about where he went,” Dylan fretted.
“We can figure it out. Where would he have gone?” Yasmin put her logical hat on. Not that she ever took it off.
“I think I might know,” Jono suggested, looking knowingly at Dylan, “Where were we last night?”
“Freddie’s house,” Dylan said with a sense of worry.
Stirring and squinting open his eyes, Drew had a banging headache. It was unusual for him, considering the way his body healed, but it wasn’t a total rarity. What scared him the most was the circumstances around when he last felt this way, several years ago. It was the last time he got shot, by a bullet made of mountain ash. The day he became the last werewolf standing in Crystalshaw.
As he opened his eyes wider, they adjusted to the blinding spotlights he was under. He wanted to shield his eyes with his hands, but as he attempted to move, he found his hands locked tightly in handcuffs above his head. He was trapped, and although he tried to struggle his way out, it was proving very difficult.
“Whoever you are, you’ve made a huge mistake by capturing me, and when I break free, you will regret it,” Drew yelled. The chains were as thick as they came – made specifically to handle beasts like him. These people knew what they were doing, and that’s what scared him most.
“Come on, show yourself,” he ordered.
As he spoke, he took in his surroundings. He was in some sort of basement, filled with shelving and boxes. Drew sniffed. The scents in the air were of gunpowder and mountain ash – both terrifyingly strong. He was chained to metal railings, like those of school gates, and a remote control sat on the shelving unit directly in front. He had seen one of those before and had hoped never to see one again.
“Are you too coward to face me? Come on,” Drew goaded again. Just seconds after he spoke, he heard the bolt on the exit door at the far end of the room slide open.
After the door was yanked open, a figure appeared in the doorway and casually began walking towards Drew. The harsh spotlights made it difficult for him to focus on the details, but their stature was short and feminine. As they came into his eyeline, a shiver went down through Drew’s spine.
“Good morning Mr. Marsden,” the nightmare-inducing voice of Mrs. Johnson began, “Do you like our new detention policy?”
As the car pulled up outside Freddie’s house, Dylan was horrified to see deputies from the sheriff department cordoning off the entrance. Yasmin had driven him there, and they were hoping the house would be empty, so they could suss out any clues. Quite the contrary.
“What now?” Dylan panicked.
“I have an idea,” Yasmin thought. This was why he loved being friends with Yasmin. Always on the ball.
Stepping out of the car, Dylan relayed the plan in his head. It was like a script to remember. That was the one downside to a Yasmin plan – it always came with a crazy amount of detail. He approached one of the deputies stood outside.
“Sorry sir, there’s no entry,” the deputy put his hand out to block Dylan’s way.
“I left my school book here on Thursday night,” Dylan spoke carefully, “I need it for my chemistry homework.” As the deputy was about to debate with Dylan, he was cut off.
“Dylan,” came an assured, deep tone from the doorway of the house. It was Sheriff Taylor, a man in his forties, who Yasmin always called a “DILF.” The fact the Sheriff knew his name always made him feel exceptionally guilty, but the Sheriff and his mum went way back. A family friend, although Dylan often found that family friends referred to parents only, not the entire family. That was the type of thought he often had in the shower.
“What can I do for you?” Sheriff Taylor questioned.
“I need to pick up my chemistry book, I left it on Thursday,” Dylan explained. Yasmin insisted on Thursday – he couldn’t mention Friday, or they would ask more critical questions. He still didn’t even know the issue, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be writing a statement at the sheriff station.
“I told him there was no entry,” the deputy reiterated, as if he were after a medal.
“Come through Dylan,” Sheriff Taylor ignored his deputy entirely, “Let’s make it quick though, it is a crime scene after all.”
“What happened?” Dylan worriedly asked. He was terrified that Freddie had been left to bleed to death. He wouldn’t put anything past Josh.
“Your friend, Frederick, he’s gone missing. You’ll see in his room that there are blood stains. Please, I know you’ll be careful, but try not to touch anything as it could tamper with the evidence,” Sheriff Taylor trusted Dylan, which made him feel more relaxed.
The lack of body was promising, too. Maybe Freddie was alright, although that would make him a werewolf. One on Josh’s side, too. It was the lesser of two evils but not by much.
“Of course, Sheriff,” Dylan smiled. The Sheriff left him to make his own way upstairs. Dylan carefully pushed open Freddie’s bedroom door, without using the door handle and leaving his fingerprints. The memories of the night before were fresh in his mind. The horrible vision of Freddie’s blood spraying out as Josh cruelly sank his teeth into his arm. He took a sniff. All that filled his nostrils was the strong scent of the blood that still soaked the bedding.
Focus, Dylan, he told himself. He had to pay more attention to the scents in the room. Surely the smell of cologne would linger, right? Any clue as to whether Drew had been there or not.
That’s when Dylan noticed. Right next to the bed, the window had been smashed and shards of glass littered the floor. Dotted amongst them were droplets of a black liquid. Dylan closed his eyes and let his nose educate him. Those droplets were Drew’s blood, he recognised the scent. He was there and was now in trouble.
“Did you find it?” Sheriff Taylor poked his head around the door, making Dylan jump.
“No, I guess it’s not here,” Dylan continued the lie, “Thanks anyway.” He left the room, taking one last glance before he left while a feeling of horror filled his stomach.
Meanwhile, Jono had driven Lily to where she and Yasmin had first seen the hunters. Without Dylan, Jono knew they would only be able to find out so much. After all, neither of them had the enhanced senses that he had. They couldn’t listen for any tell-tale sounds or sniff out any important scents.
However, Lily had been there before, and though she didn’t like to show it off, she had an excellent memory. She always memorised the guest lists for her parties to perfection. She could sniff out anything different in a room in an instant. If her friends had even an inch of their long hair cut off, she would notice and compliment them. Jono just hoped that her memory would provide a clue to identifying the hunters.
“We were right here,” Lily directed immediately as she stepped out of the car, “Yasmin was trying to teach me self-defence, and we were mucking about.” Jono listened intently – he followed Lily as she retraced their route perfectly, before leading Jono down into a small ditch area of the woodland.
“We were here when we felt something strange,” Lily noted.
“The alpha?” Jono presumed.
“Yeah, it must have been. Then Drew jumped on us and kept us safe while bullets flew over our heads,” Lily recalled.
“There must be some lying around then,” Jono thought, climbing above the ditch and scouting around.
“You and Dylan,” Lily changed the subject, “What’s the deal?”
“How do you mean?” Jono purposely avoided eye contact. He hated being questioned about his love life.
“Things seem…good,” Lily commented, “Did you talk?”
“Yeah, it’s all good,” he tried to shrug the chat off by focusing on the bullets. He loved sharing with Lily, but in his own time.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad,” Lily wasn’t getting the hint, but Jono appreciated that sentence. Lily would never interfere with his love life, and vice versa, but he trusted her opinion.
“Thanks,” he looked down to her and smiled, “I’m sorry too, for snapping at you.”
“It’s forgotten,” she smiled.
“Hey, I got it,” Jono yelled. Lily rushed to join him as he picked up a tiny metallic gold bullet. It felt weird holding something that could be so deadly, as if it were going to fire itself into him. Jono looked at the imprint on the side – ‘J.R. Thompson.”
“Do you recognise that?” Lily wondered.
“No, but we can google them. Somewhere round here must sell them,” Jono suggested. This could be the key they needed.
Getting back in the car, Dylan was thrilled that he could pass on some news and that the mission wasn’t as much of a failure as it easily could have been. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling of worry. Drew had gone, and that spelled disaster.
“You’ve not been arrested then,” Yasmin optimistically remarked. Nice to see he had faith in him.
“The benefits of my mom knowing the Sheriff,” Dylan laughed, “It worked a treat.”
“Did you find anything?” Yasmin looked eager to know.
“Drew’s blood was splattered on the floor,” Dylan informed, “It threw me. I guess I didn’t know werewolf blood was black.”
“It’s black?” Yasmin looked worried, which in turn concerned Dylan. Why did black blood trigger her? Did she know something he didn’t?
“Yeah, thick jet-black blood,” he replied, watching her eyes deviate from making eye contact. That was when he noticed the band aid on her wrist. It looked clean, and likely fresh on.
“What happened?” Dylan probed.
“Err,” Yasmin seemed to be struggling to explain. Either that or she didn’t want to, “Last night, you…,”
“I did what?” Dylan was getting impatient and concerned. Did he do something when he shifted? His memories of those moments always felt a little hazy as he wasn’t himself.
“Scratched me,” Yasmin completed, “Last night. You didn’t mean to, when I grabbed you, but…,”
“But what? What’s up? I thought only an alpha’s bite is harmful,” Dylan was getting panicked. The thought of him passing on this stupid curse to Yasmin horrified him.
“It’s not healing, but a little bit of black blood trickled out earlier,” Yasmin admitted regretfully, “Drew said it couldn’t convert me, but occasionally, very rarely, the scratch of a beta could pass something on.” Dylan looked down in shame, trying to keep himself in control as a sea of emotions flooded his brain.
“Like what?” Dylan spoke, trying to hold back his tears.
“Enhanced vision, hearing, healing,” Yasmin mentioned, “Drew didn’t know for sure, he’s just going off on myths.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dylan couldn’t hold back anymore and unleashed his tears.
“You couldn’t help it,” Yasmin tried to comfort him, but Dylan wasn’t convinced it was sincere. He wouldn’t be so calm in her situation.
“Is this how it’s going to work? I’ll hurt you all until one of you gets killed?” Dylan felt pessimistic.
“Look at me,” Yasmin ordered, putting her hands on Dylan’s cheeks, “You’re in control. Accidents happen. Whatever this is, whatever’s happening to me, we will get through it. The same way we get through everything else.”
“Together,” Dylan finished the sentence. Yasmin nodded, and passed Dylan a tissue. He felt slightly better, but the uncertainty about Yasmin clouded his mind.
“What do you want from me?” Drew desperately asked Mrs. Johnson. He was gobsmacked that one of his own teachers had chained him up. It was surely illegal.
Instead of responding, Mrs. Johnson pored a bucket of water over his bare chest. He knew what this meant. Water conducted electricity, after all.
“Where’s the alpha?” Mrs. Johnson interrogated. She was flanked by a burly man, as if she needed back-up.
“No idea,” Drew casually replied. Instantaneously, Mrs. Johnson’s finger slammed down on the remote control perched on the shelving unit.
Straight away, Drew felt a horrible electric shock run through his body, conducted by the metal railings and furthered by the water. He hadn’t felt this in a long time and had hoped he never would again. He cried out in pain, even though he tried not to show weakness in front of her.
“I’ll repeat my question,” Mrs. Johnson continued after the shock ceased, “Where is the alpha?”
“I told you, I don’t know,” Drew spoke through gritted teeth, holding back the angry wolf inside. Once again, the shock returned, and he was in agony.
“This could be over and done with so quickly, Mr. Marsden,” Mrs. Johnson proposed, “All you have to do is tell us where the alpha is.”
“I swear to you, I don’t know,” Drew was getting angrier every time he had to repeat himself.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, wolves hunt in packs,” Mrs. Johnson noted.
“I don’t. I have no pack. The alpha is no relation to me,” Drew explained. He was being truthful after all, “I was hunting him too.” Mrs. Johnson glanced at the burly man behind her, as if she had an idea, and instantly Drew worried that he might have said too much.
Slamming the door shut, Dylan let out a huge sigh. Finally, he had a little bit of peace and quiet at home, even for a few minutes. Even if he knew that his problems were far from being solved. The week he’d had was off the scale. Sure, he had made friends along the way, and gained the best boyfriend he could wish for, but he couldn’t help feeling overwhelmingly negative. They had no idea where Drew was. Dylan considered howling for him, but it would only alert his own presence. He allowed himself to be a little selfish in times like this. It wasn’t too much to ask, surely?
“Hey honey, how was your day?” Caroline called out. She must have heard the door slam.
“Good thanks mom, I was just hanging with Yasmin,” Dylan replied.
“Alright. There’s a visitor upstairs for you,” Caroline announced. Huh? Who had visited him? Why did this worry him further? Cautiously, he jogged up the stairs and nudged open the bedroom door. Much to his relief, he saw Jono perched comfortably on the side of the bed.
“Hey,” Dylan smiled as the worry left his system.
“Hi, did you find anything?” Jono skipped the small talk.
“Drew’s been taken, I’m sure,” Dylan explained as he sat next to Jono, “We just don’t know where. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Well I think we found a clue,” Jono revealed. Dylan’s ears perked up, “The bullets they fired are registered to J.R. Thompson, their warehouse is down town. They’re closed at weekends but we should check it out Monday.”
“That might be too late,” Dylan pondered. He couldn’t let Drew die.
“Lily said they were chasing the alpha yesterday, not Drew. Why would they kill him when they have bigger fish to fry?” Jono considered. He made a good point. Drew could be their key to Josh. Maybe they would get lucky.
“Perhaps. Josh isn’t coming for us until Monday too, so maybe we have time to think of a plan,” Dylan thought aloud.
“Do you know what you’re gonna do yet?” Jono asked the question that had been hanging over Dylan’s mind for the entire day.
“Absolutely no idea,” Dylan honestly admitted, “I don’t see any way out.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Jono put a comforting hand on Dylan’s knee. He never failed to put Dylan at ease.
“Fancy some dinner?” Dylan offered, changing the subject. If they had a free moment, they might as well have made the most of it. Jono nodded keenly. It made Dylan happy to think Jono felt comfortable in his home.
Dinner went smoothly, and Dylan had a brilliant time. Jono got on like a house on fire with his mum, and the three of them had the biggest laugh Dylan had had in a while. It was a reminder that despite everything going on, there is a lot that he can be grateful for.
The whole evening had been magical. He and Jono watched the latest Big Brother after dinner and were now cuddled up in Dylan’s bed. He wasn’t convinced it was big enough, but that was the perfect excuse to cuddle up closer. Dylan was the little spoon, still lying on the right side of the bed, while Jono’s hands were wrapped around him. Neither of them were asleep, just enjoying each other’s company.
Dylan shifted himself round to face Jono and their faces were almost touching with how little space they had. Not saying a word, Dylan moved just a few centimetres to gently press his lips against Jono. Jono reciprocated, and their tongues met in the middle. Dylan had envisioned himself making out with Jono in his bed more times than he would care to admit, and now it was a reality. Dylan began to strip his t-shirt off, as did Jono, and they broke the kiss only to slip their shirts over their heads.
Dylan placed his hands on Jono’s beautifully soft chest. It was perfect for him, only slightly toned and little in the way of pecs. He always found six packs quite unattractive. He felt Jono repeating, placing his own had over Dylan’s standard-looking chest. That’s what he thought about himself, at least.
“Are you sure about this?” Dylan checked.
“Totally. Now stop talking and kiss me,” Jono grinned. He was such a bad influence. As their lips locked again, Dylan slipped his trousers his trousers off, leaving only his boxer shorts on. He undid the popper and fly zip on Jono’s too, giving him the command to slip them off without uttering a word. Dylan was in heaven, as he made his way down Jono’s incredible body. He didn’t want it to end.
Exhausted, Dylan crashed his head back down on the pillow. That was the best rush of emotions he had ever experienced. He almost wanted to go again, but he certainly didn’t have the energy. Besides, it would feel much less special if it were overdone. He was slightly reserved when it came to sex – Dylan was determined to only experience it with someone he truly loved. He had certainly kept to his word that night.
He looked at Jono, who had collapsed just next to him. He was panting just as hard. Dylan cuddled up to him again, although the clothes remained on the floor.
“That was incredible,” Jono said in between breaths.
“You are phenomenal,” Dylan smiled. The rush was starting to sizzle down, but he would never forget those feelings.
“Did you hear that?” Jono’s tone shifted from bliss to concern.
“Hear what?” Dylan was surprised he hadn’t heard anything. He focused, using his wolf hearing.
“Footsteps,” Jono mentioned.
“It’s probably just my mom getting a glass of water,” Dylan suggested. He paid even closer attention. No footsteps were to be heard, but worryingly, he noticed the sound of heavy breathing on the other side of the bedroom door.
“There’s someone there,” Dylan worriedly whispered. He quietly stood up, threw some trousers on, and picked up his weapon of choice – one of those stupidly long souvenir pencils that were impossible to actually write with, He knew he had to dispose of it at some point, but it finally had a use.
He held it like a cricket bat as he approached the door. His heart was pounding out of his chest with worry as his hand slowly pushed down on the door handle. The door inched open slowly, but before he could process his sights, Dylan was thrown backwards. Jono ducked as the large pencil came hurtling out of Dylan’s hand and towards him, skimming past his head.
Pounced on top of Dylan was Freddie, his eyes glowing yellow, and ready to attack.