FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Red Moon: Revolution

Chapter 5

Something was going on over at the neighbor's house. Trevor's acute hearing could pick up the sound of voices in distress, even with the television going and the sound of his friends drunken glee. It was odd since normally there wasn't any sound coming from the neighbors. They were always so quiet. He knew that the house wasn't abandoned since he had spotted the occupants a few times. There was a large black man and a shorter white man who liked looking out the window in the morning and the evening. Thinking about it, Trevor realized that he probably should have been more proactive and taken the time to get to know them. If there was something wrong then it might be a good time to see if he could help.

"I'm going to go get some fresh air." Trevor said to his friends who were too preoccupied watching the football fly through the air in what would be an incomplete pass. It wasn't a lie, he could smell every fart that they thought they could get away with. It was part of the reason why he walked to work every day, public transportation was no longer an option, there were too many clashing and repulsive smells. Plus, he enjoyed being outside and not cooped up with too many people.

Stepping outside and closing the door just as his friends jumped to their feet to cheer for what had to be the tenth time already. The sun had already settled under the ocean where the last rays of its orange brilliance were fading away, giving way to the black night. Taking a deep breath in, Trevor cleared his nostrils of the smells of his house and replaced it with the damp, fresh air of the Pacific Northwest. There was a hint of something familiar in the air, but Trevor couldn't quite place it and it was faint enough that it barely garnered his attention. There was also the scent of another werewolf nearby, very near. When Trevor had first come back to Seattle, he had been surprised at how many werewolves there actually were. He rarely saw them, but he always smelled them, so this smell didn't alarm him in the slightest.

More distressed voices snapped Trevor back to attention. Now that he was outside where it was quite and the sound of his friends was just muffled background noise, he could tell that there were three distinct voices. Two, who Trevor believed to be his neighbors, were shaky and disgruntled and the third, an unfamiliar voice, was calm. He couldn't make out words, but he could tell that something was wrong.

While Trevor never thought of himself as a hero or even much of an outstanding citizen, something was happening right next door. He could have just called the police, but the windy roads of where he lived meant that it would be many minutes before a cruiser arrived and he didn't think that there would be enough time to wait.

Walking across the small grass lawn which was no more than a small barrier between the sidewalk and the front steps of his house, Trevor noticed that the door to his neighbor's house was completely removed.

Now that he was closer, Trevor could begin to make out the voices.

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" A voice asked, sounding hopelessly defeated.

"There's always a choice, it's just a matter of consequences." The calm voice replied.

Trevor tip toed over to the edge of the door, laying his back flat against the wall. He wasn't entirely sure what to do at this point and he felt ridiculous as he imitated what he had seen on television.

"What happens now?" The last voice asked in a sigh. The sound of a tapping foot could be heard.

"Not much. I swing by next door, pick up Mr. McKenzie and then we head out."

Hearing his own name nearly put Trevor in a panic and forced him to try and will himself to calm down which caused him to slip on the wet wooden decking. Having no choice, Trevor reached out and grabbed onto the windowsill that was right next to the door, nearly ripping some of the wood out. Any chance he had of going unnoticed was now gone.

"What was that?"

"You're a quite one Mr. McKenzie." The calm voice called out. "I almost didn't notice when you left your house." Trevor cursed at himself. Was he that loud on his way over? "Why don't you come on in?"

The man didn't sound man or threatening at all and while he was sure that he could out run just about anyone, there was no point, he would need to come back home anyways.

"How do you know who I am?" Trevor asked. He cautiously stepped past the door frame and spied the broken, but relatively unscarred door which laid haphazardly against the wall.

"I'm a friend of an old acquaintance of yours. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Erin Rommel." He gave a slight bow which seemed overly elegant when compared to the mess around him.

Trevor looked at Rommel with a blank stare. His mind was trying to determine whether or not it was indeed the Rommel from the history books. He did look exactly like all of the photos and in the world of werewolves, which were known for having extremely long lifespans, it wasn't impossible. Trevor knew that it should have been impossible by common logic, logic which he had thrown out the window a long time ago.

"I have been sent here by The Alpha to take you to Germany."

"Germany?" Trevor said. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He crossed his arms. "I left whatever you've got going on in Europe behind."

"As much as you'd like to think that." Rommel said. "You haven't. There's a war going on and we need your help."

That still didn't convince Trevor of anything. As far as he was concerned, Rommel was just trying to get him involved in a mess that he didn't want to ever back into. He wanted nothing to do with the werewolves or the people who had tried to hurt him before. The last time he was a werewolf, which was also the only time, people died. While he had no recollection of the events, simply knowing of what he had done was enough to give him nightmares some nights.

"I can't" Trevor waived his hands. "I won't."

"You must." Rommel insisted. "You can't be selfish. Whether you like it or not, you're a part of this now, you always were." Rommel threw back a thumb at the two ex-Inquisition agents who were noticeable uncomfortable with the exchange. "These people worked for an organization called the Inquisition. The Inquisition has one goal, the extermination of all werewolves."

The blood drained from Trevor's face.

"You've been watching me?" He asked them.

"Y... Yes." Banks sputtered. "We were told to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn't go off anywhere." He reached down to grab his laptop. "Actually, those orders have changed." He flipped open the laptop and it flashed on, revealing the orders. "The Inquisition has sent a team to take you out. They'll be here within a few days."

"Why?!" Trevor cried out. "I haven't done anything to them."

"You exist." Rommel patiently said, though he was troubled that more agents were coming up. He would need to get Trevor out of the city by the end of the day. "Your mere existence is considered a threat to them."

Trevor leaned up against the wall as he soaked in the information. He thought that he could have a normal life, that he could go about and live is life, even if it was going to be a long one, in peace, but that dream had been shattered.

Rommel walked over and patted Trevor on the shoulder. "If you stay, you put everyone around you at risk." He nodded towards Trevor's house where his friends were still watching the game, his absence still relatively unnoticed behind the large amount of beer that was being drunk.

Trevor looked over towards the house, his house. "They aren't in danger, are they?"

"We... um the Inquisition." Adornato interjected. He had since put the gun away and was now standing over by Banks, reviewing the orders on the laptop. "They don't like making a scene that would get the attention of the local authorities. If you leave, no one will get hurt. If you stay, they'll do whatever it takes to complete their mission."

Trevor tried to think of ways he could stay, but he didn't want to put those he cared about in danger. "Can't I just move away, why do I have to go all the way back to Europe?" It was his final plea.

"They'll keep hunting you." Rommel said.

Trevor, deep down, knew that it was true. He really didn't have any other options.

"How will I even be of any help?" It was a legitimate question, Trevor had no control over himself as a werewolf and hadn't taken any measures to change that other than techniques to avoid a transformation. "I can't do anything."

"I'll train you." Rommel announced on the spot. "I've heard that you have great potential to be of great help and if you put in the effort, I'll make sure that you can do anything you want." He said it with the confidence of the general that had led thousands of soldiers years and years ago and he meant it.

"I guess I should pack then." Trevor sighed out with no real confidence.

"I would advise against that." Banks raised a hand, his eyes glued to the screen as he read over new information. "The kill team that was sent got on an earlier flight. They'll be landing any second."

"Then I suppose we should get going now." Rommel walked out of the building. "Come, we need to get moving."

Banks and Adornato looked at each other for a moment before walking out, leaving Trevor alone.

There would be no goodbyes or time to do anything. He was simply leaving and his friends would eventually notice. Trevor wondered how his friends and family would react to this. Would they search? For how long and if they didn't find him, which he was sure that they wouldn't, what would happen then? Trevor got the feeling that he wasn't going to ever be able to come back. It was a crushing epiphany, but like everything else in his life, he simply needed to move on and adapt.

Pushing himself off of the wall, Trevor walked out of the house as well where the other three were waiting for him.

Adornato pointed up at the sky where there was a large Boeing 747 was making its descent. "That's probably their flight. It's coming up from the south."

"Well then, let's get going." Rommel clasped his hands together. "My car is just down the block. We'll be able to give them the slip and get on a flight of our own."

With that, the group began to walk.

--

On the other side of the city at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, another set of eyes watched as the plane descended onto the tarmac, its wheels screeching as the plane decelerated to a safe speed. People buzzed about around the imposing figure that simply stood by the wall high windows, watching and waiting. He knew that his father would object to him being there, but he had to come. After two years, he had to see him again.

Dmitri backed away from the window and sat down in one of the seats that was just barely able to hold him up. He was clean shaven and wore half-way decent clothing. He didn't want anyone to take notice of him, to the average person, he just looked like a large man.

"Anytime now." Dmitri looked down at his watch. He knew that Rommel would be coming here with Trevor sometime that day and he would be there. He wouldn't make a scene, he just wanted to get a glimpse, to make sure that his mate was alright. That was all he wanted, there would be time to try and smooth out the wrinkles later and to make sure that Trevor settled down better than Sergei had.

The thought of Sergei made Dmitri depressed for a moment and he quickly shook that thought out of his mind. He didn't need those thoughts at the moment, he had mourned plenty. Now was the time to think of a better tomorrow.

The plane rolled up to the terminal where the crew of people, all dressed in bright orange vests went about to empty the plane and get it ready for its next flight. In a few minutes, the passengers would walk out of the plane and into the airport. Trevor had watched the same old process happen several times that day and the onset of new smells and noises annoyed him. He didn't want to miss certain smells.

The first group of people from first class walked out. There was a menagerie of people from business types in fancy and expensive suits to the overly spoiled "new money." None of them mattered, though one person caught Dmitri's eye. A sturdy built man in a cheap three hundred dollar suit walked out. He had a lean face and a high and tight, military haircut. In his hands was a brief case that bore a small symbol in its center. Much like the Knights Templar, it was a cross, except that it was blue with two swords crossed behind it, two silver swords. It was an old symbol, an Inquisition symbol.

Dmitri tensed up at it. Several more men and woman came out, fifteen in all which had the same symbol on their person, either on a ring or as a pin on their clothes. Dmitri spotted them all with his keen eyesight, but they had good eyesight as well.

For a fleeting moment, Dmitri made eye contact with the man in the suit. It was too long. The man said something to his group of people which had congregated in a group. Dmitri couldn't hear what they said, there were too many other people in the airport talking, but he got an idea as they began to walk over to him.

There were too many people nearby to do anything other than get up and walk. They followed.