THEM (Season 1): Episode 2 by M.D. Massey

resistance. Lycanthropy isn’t like becoming one of the undead. Some people go feral as all hell when they get turned, but a good portion of us stay more or less human after we get turned.”
    Something wasn’t adding up. “Bobby, how old are you?”
    “Oh, you think I’m bullshitting you because I look like I’m just a kid. Lycanthropy slows down your aging processes—a lot. I was fifteen when I got turned, going on five years ago. I may not look it, but if the shit hadn’t hit the fan, I’d probably be attending college in Austin right about now.”
    I thought back to before the War, and all my plans. I’d intended to go back to school, finish my degree, and become a physician’s assistant. Bombs and monsters shot that plan all to hell. Screw me.
    Bobby continued. “Anyways, I escaped with a bunch of ’thropes who didn’t like bowing down to our occult overlords, and we hooked up with a pack of neutrals out along the coast.”
    “Neutrals?”
    “Yeah, ’thropes that are on neither side. Just want to be left alone, like I said.” Bobby paused for a moment, and then his mind seemed to change track. “You know, there’s still a whole lot of beach down on the coast. Sometimes I go surfing, although the waves aren’t that great. Still, it beats hanging out with the goons in the corridor.”
    Holy shit, I just rescued Teen Wolf, I thought as Bobby waxed poetic about his surfing. One thing was for sure though, I didn’t think Bobby was going to gnaw my arm off anytime soon. Again, thank God for small favors.
    - - -
    A s it turned out, Bobby was a walking encyclopedia of information on the various occult species, and more specifically what was going down in the Corridor. As we walked back to the vet clinic, he alternated between filling me in on movements and activity among the undead and ’thropes in the corridor, and regaling me with stories of his surfing adventures down along the coast.
    At the moment, he was telling me about his favorite spots to surf. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I could care less. I’d been tuning in and out for the last few hours; the kid could really talk.
    “But sometimes, man, there are pirates. You gotta watch out for them. They mostly come up from Mexico way, looking for slaves to take back who knows where.”
    That got my interest. “They ever try to take any of your friends?”
    Bobby chuckled. “Just once, but, man, they got a surprise! Since then, they stay away from our stretch of the coast.”
    Despite Bobby’s ADD, so far I’d learned a few very important things about the activity along the Corridor. According to Bobby, there was a large pack of about two dozen ’thropes patrolling up and down the Corridor collecting humans for slave labor. Apparently, they were controlled by a single alpha wolf who went by the name of Van.
    “So, tell me more about this Van character.”
    The kid whistled long and low. “You don’t want to jack with him, trust me. He’s one bad dude. He’s one of the ones that came right after the bombs dropped. A real first-gen alpha, strong and mean as shit.”
    I’d seen how easily Bobby had lifted that punter off the ground the night before, and wondered how he compared to Van. “Stronger than you?”
    “Pfft. I’m a pup compared to this guy. I’ve seen him kick a car chassis across a road, no lie. When he’s under the moon, you better steer clear of him.”
    “What do you mean, ‘under the moon’?”
    Bobby chewed his lip, and took a moment before he spoke. “Well, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, because it’s really something they don’t want humans to know.”
    “Who are they?”
    “The alphas. And the packs. Pretty much all the wolves, I guess.”
    I nodded. “And...”
    “You aren’t going to let this go, are you? Alright, but you can’t let anyone know I told you this, or I’ll be in deep shit with my pack, so you gotta keep this under wraps.”
    I held up my right hand with two fingers