[b]Chapter Eleven[/b]
It's the day before the full moon.
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It's also the first clear day you've had in what feels like weeks.
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The sun is shining, the air is clean, and the sky is a bright, vivid, almost eerie blue.
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You would've called it beautiful if it wasn't for the icy wind, whistling as it whips between the buildings, stinging your skin, and burning your eyes.
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You hug your jacket tighter around your shoulders and grit your teeth. Too big. Too heavy. Too sharp.
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You take a deep breath.
You're not a wolf. You're a person. And right now you have job to do.
Your pack is gathered in the small dirt patch behind the den. Piled in front of them is the den's wooden furniture. Bed frames, chairs, an old table, the sofa.
Vicky has an axe, Nikolas a hammer, and Marco a crowbar. Everyone else has screw drivers, allen keys, and wrenches.
You're holding a tire iron.
Next
"Alright," Alpha calls out. "Let's make this quick."
The pack gets to work, quickly and methodically ripping the furniture apart, tossing aside broken or splintered wood and carrying the salvageable chunks into the den.
It's a shame really. There's some furniture that has been with the pack a long time here. That old bookcase, that coffee table, that weird orange lounge chair... but there is too many damn windows in the den and the Alpha wants them all barricaded by sunset. If this vampire bastard is coming, he's coming in the front door, like a real God fearing gentleman.
Ed's having a hard time taking a dresser apart. You step in and use the tire iron to smash away the weaker flimsier wood, saving the heavier, chunkier pieces.
He smiles. "Thanks, Gideon Mercer."
Next
"How are you feeling?" you ask.
"Oh, terrified out of my ever living mind," Ed admits with a cheery smile. "The neighbours are gone."
You frown. "What?"
"You know? The people that live down the road?" he says as he pulls a screw from the dresser and tosses it aside. "I saw them packing up early this morning. And when I say early I mean early. The gym down the road is closed too, and the cafe. I know this isn't technically a residential area, and there ain't that much people around, but what few people there are, they're gone... almost as if they know something's coming and don't want to be here for it."
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"Holy fuck."
"Yep," he says, oddly bright and chipper. "I reckon that means one of two things. Either the humans around here have figured out what we are and leaving ASAP before the moon rises."
"Or?" you push. "Or Blackwell's coming... and he's clearing the area before he does."
"Why would he do that?" you ask... even though, deep in your gut, you already know the answer.
"He doesn't want witnesses," Ed spells it out. "Which means, whatever he's going to do, it ain't going to be subtle."
"Is staying in the den a mistake?" you ask, voice low.
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Ed thinks about that question for a long time before shaking his head. "Where could we go? Besides, we know this street, the alleyways, the smells, everything. We have the home turf advantage, as weird as that is to think about."
"You don't sound convinced."
"I'm not," Ed says in a softer voice. "Like I said, I'm shitting myself. I don't know what's going to happen, but despite everything, I'm glad we're here. I'm glad we're together. I'm glad, no matter what, this will all be over by this time tomorrow."
"I thought you were meant to be our resident optimist," you say.
Ed makes a face. "Really? I thought I was the young, dumb, nice guy. Help me out with this will you?"
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You grab the wood and hoist it.