Sons of Atreus

[frostian]

Title: Sons of Atreus, Part III
Fandom: none, original fic
Word Count: ~25k
Genre: gen, horror
Rating: R for language and violence
Warning: Gratuitous abuse of medical science.
Summary: Dr. Kathy Duncan's foray into the private sector places her in the sights of Eichel Corporation. Feeling uneasy after the interview, she rejects their job offer. Unfortunately for Dr. Duncan Eichel Corporation isn't going to take no for an answer. Because they need her expertise in order to stop a genetic disorder from wiping out hundreds of people in the next decade, they are willing to spend millions ensuring that she changes her mind. And that's just the start of what they are willing to do.
Disclaimer: Brought to you live from Fiction Nation!


Boston, Massachusetts

Kathy gave a huge sigh of relief the moment she saw the familiar furniture in her livingroom. She had no idea how tense she was until she was in her own home.

And yet I’m planning to leave all this and return to whatever that situation is.

Now that she had a breather, Kathy wondered how she was going to go about convincing Johnny that she wasn’t forced into changing her mind, which was the bloody truth all things considered.

The best kind of lie is the one buried in half truths.

She went about composing the e-mail to Johnny detailing just enough information to convince the youngest broher that she made the right choice.

Later that evening, after reading her e-mail, Bobby concluded Kathy’s wording was just about perfect for what she intended.

Kathy found little to no resistance as she made plans to move to Washington. Most of her coworkers wished her well and even threw her a small farewell party. It was fun but Kathy was too excited about her new job to enjoy it much. Her brothers also sent her well wishes, with Johnny promising to visit as soon as he could.

He also told her that Eichel Corporation’s reputation in the Beltway was solid if also uninteresting. Kathy wondered if that was Bobby’s doing or if Eichel’s more legitimate endeavors were really that pedestrian.

She received three calls while packing the few belongings she didn’t sell. One was from Jason Avers who sounded positively joyful while talking about setting up what she needed in the bungalow.

The other was Peter who sounded less cheerful yet more sincere in his good will. He didn’t ask her about anything she needed, which told her that everything was probably arranged already. But he did confess of a small gathering at his home to introduce Kathy to her co-workers.

Kathy thought it was a nice idea, but couldn’t stop wondering if it would be held during daytime: and the drinks spiked with sedatives.

Bobby’s call was the briefest but the most important. He told her there would be a plane available for her to take when she was ready to move. Kathy would have felt flattered if not for the fact that she suspected he was trying to prevent her from bolting.

The idea wasn’t insulting as it was funny and Kathy found herself smirking as she got on the private jet a week later.

The sarcastic grin didn’t go away even as the Lear took off.

After three cups of coffee and a slice of Sacher Torte, Kathy thought she could get used to working for the private sector. While flying over Ohio the stewardess handed over a shiny new laptop. She gave a smile, poured another cup of coffee before leaving Kathy to deal with the unexpected present.

Kathy turned on the laptop and was surprised to see that a password was required. She typed in ‘werewolf’, ‘Hector’, and her last name. None of them worked.

If this is some kind of test I’m going to be pissed.

Kathy sat back in he chair and thought for a while. Finally she typed in ‘Atreus’ and the screen opened to a wealth of folders and a bevy of secured networks she could access.

She found her new e-mail box already loaded with forwarded memos and communiqués. She also discovered a folder containing information about her temporary home. As Kathy read the detailed dossier, she couldn’t help but admire the thoroughness with which her move was dealt with.

Now, all she had to worry about was the fact that how well she could work with a man who was so consummately in love with perfection.

We’re either going to get along fine or kill each other before my first workday is over. Kathy realized if that happened she’d probably be the first to go.

As the plane landed softly, Kathy made a mental cheer. She had never flown in a private jet before, but if this was the norm, the pilots on these should be canonized for their ability to handle the turbulence over Wyoming.

The plane landed on a private airport near Tacoma. And when Kathy stepped out of the Lear, there was a large SUV waiting for her at the base of the stairs. The unfamiliar driver handed over a cell which began ringing. Bobby answered before the third ring disappeared into the ether.

“Hello?”

“You’re here!” Bobby sounded surprised but happy to hear her.

“That was the best flight I ever had,” Kathy said. “Tell the pilots I’m grateful for their talent.”

“They get more than compensated for their abilities,” Bobby said. “But they are good at what they do. I was quite proud when they left their private fleet to join ours.”

Kathy smirked at the obvious proud in Bobby’s voice. “So, the SUV is going to take me where?”

“There’s a boat waiting for you at a pier. The car will take you there.”

“This is getting to be a regular James Bond movie.”

“I haven’t seen one of those in years,” Bobby said, “since I was a kid. Roger Moore was amusing.”

Kathy did a mental calculation and wondered if Bobby watched any television since the seventies. ‘If all goes well, will Q meet me at the docks?”

“Unfortunately just Peter and the captain.”

“I feel like humming the tune to Gilligan’s Island.”

“Hopefully it won’t be more than a three-hour tour for you.”

Kathy found herself smiling all the way to Tacoma. A sleek boat was waiting for her at a private dock clustered with other equally expensive boats. Kathy stared at the multi-million dollar displays and wondered where in hell Tacoma got their gritty reputation.

Peter stepped out of the cockpit and waved. Kathy noted his pallor had decreased dramatically but he still looked extremely emaciated. It was also because of full sunlight she noticed the obvious disproportion in Peter’s frame. His broad shoulders made his head look very small, while the longish arms and legs made him look older than she suspected.

Unfortunately, if someone studied him for more than a moment they would notice how freakish he looked.

If he actually ate his fill, he could pass for a pro football player. Have to wonder how big can these people get.

Kathy kicked herself for categorizing Peter in such a manner. And when he welcomed her onto the boat, she felt even worse.

“Just stow the stuff in the cabin,” Peter said. “Puget Sound is beautiful. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Kathy remained quiet and took a seat near the helm. Peter was telling the truth. Even though the day was chilly and she needed a wool sweater and an anorak, the view was unbeatable.

She saw something to her left and pointed. “Is that?”

“A pod,” Peter answered, smiling. “They’re orcas.”

“Wow,” she mouthed. “I’ve never seen any before.”

Peter handed over a pair of binoculars. “They’re not a rare sight around here. You could see them on the island’s north beach during the warm months. And winter sometimes.

“You also catch glimpses of whales, and seals are quite plentiful, too. If you’re curious.”

Kathy couldn’t stop herself from grinning. Then a thought dampened her mood. “Will I even have time to go outside?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Definitely. Bobby knows not to drive his people to the ground. With the research we’re doing, longevity is key. We can’t afford many turnovers.”

Kathy thought about what he said and agreed. “True. So, how are the locals feeling about me coming on board?”

“They’re anxious,” Peter admitted. “But they’re not planning to burn you in effigy if you’re worried.”

“Good to hear,” she said before turning her attention to the pod. “Is it true that they’re vicious as their names?”

“I wouldn’t stick my hand in the water if that’s what you mean,” Peter said. “I read sharks are scared of orcas and would keep away. Even abandon their hunting grounds in order to avoid confrontation with them.”

Kathy silently mouthed ‘wow’ and made a mental note to buy some books on local wildlife. If Peter was telling the truth, she would use all her spare time to explore the woods surrounding her new home. Peter continued to give a mini-tour as the boat approached Wade. It was only from the water Kathy realized that there was another, much smaller island next to it.

In fact, it was within swimming distance.

She pointed to it. “What’s that one called?”

“Hester,” Peter answered. “But don’t ever go there unescorted.”

She heard the strain in his tone and looked at him. “Why?”

“We use it sometimes for those of us whose trans are so violent, we can’t risk them being near people. Usually children.”

“I was under the impression that older patients had better control.”

"Not always," Peter said. He opened his mouth as if to continue but said nothing.

"So, what are the exceptions, then?"

Peter looked uncomfortable enough that Kathy thought to excuse him from answering. He took a sideways glance towards the captain before whispering, “Some of us … we’re not mentally stable. So, even age doesn’t stop us from going completely berserk.”

Kathy paled noticeably. “Are there patients on Hester now?”

Peter shook his head. “Luckily for us we’re not burdened by such tragedies. If it happens it’s usually because of genetic causes.”

“How does that work? I thought you guys were practically immune to everything.”

“Some traits can be carried through generations because of inbreeding.” Peter saw her look of distaste and quickly said, “The affliction makes us very shy about meeting people who aren’t aware of the problem. And you can imagine how difficult it is to explain it to someone who is completely in the dark.

“Some of the other clans have been marrying each other for years, and that can go on for only so long before problems surface.”

“How do they deal with…” Kathy never finished her question. The grim look on Peter’s face was enough of a clue for her to figure out the answer. “So, no picnicking on the pretty island, then,” she finished hurriedly.

Peter’s smile returned though very weakly. And there was no more conversation until the boat docked in a small cove. Kathy noticed two other boats; one was a Zodiac, the other a yacht that bespoke of great wealth.

Peter helped her out of the boat. “Wait here, I’ll get the car.”

Kathy was helping the captain lug her bags out of the boat when she heard a rumble. She turned to see the familiar Jeep hurtle out of the woods. Kathy winced and wondered how long the suspension could take such abuse before snapping into bits.

Looking more cheerful after destroying some greenery, Peter bounded out of the car and helped to pile the luggage into the backseat. He spoke softly to the captain so that Kathy couldn’t hear.

The man left without a word of farewell. Kathy stared after the disappearing boat with a pang of anxiety.

Now I am really alone, she realized.

Peter answered her unspoken question. “We need to drop by your place. You’d probably want to take a shower of something.”

Kathy blushed. “I took one in the plane … just because.”

Peter threw back his head and laughed. “Don’t feel embarrassed. Bobby and I did it too the first time we flew in that jet.”

The awkward silence turned into a companionable one as they finished loading up the Jeep. People waved hello and Peter responded with open friendliness as he drove through town. Kathy saw the looks of curiosity directed towards her but no one seemed to be surprised by the newcomer sitting next to Peter.

They all know, she realized with wonder. Oh my God … this entire island … they’re all in on it. All of them.

For a moment her imagination came up with various horror movie scenarios, one of which ended with her being trapped inside a cage made of wood and turned into a human sacrifice.

Shaking her head, Kathy drove the darker thoughts away. But she couldn’t help keep a sharper eye as she studied the locals. All of which left her feeling foolish when the Jeep pulled up to a small but beautiful kept bungalow.

Sarah, the innkeeper, was waiting for them by the front door. She gave Kathy a brisk hug and said, “Welcome back,” before opening the door. “I stocked the fridge just in case you were too tired from the trip.”

“Thank you,” Kathy said, shamefaced about her earlier thoughts.

“Here is the key and I’ll leave you to it. My number’s by the phone in case you need anything.”

With that, Sarah left, not looking back once.

“She’s awesome,” Peter said with genuine fondness.

“She … is she?”

Peter shook his head. “No, but her son is. Her husband, Jacob, is a Wanderer. They met in Poland while he was doing research for us.”

Kathy did mental calculation and realized something was off. “How is that possible? Bobby is in his forties.”

Peter froze for a moment then sighed. “This … this project started way before either of us was born. Our grandfather actually began it in his youth. Then our dad carried it over to the States when he moved here.

“Our clan used to be tiny until the fifties. It was a lot easier to gather information after WWII was over and phone lines were set into all corners of Europe.

“And after we came here, we sent the word out. There weren’t many of us Stateside, but once we revealed our desire to form a haven, it didn’t take long for others to find us. My dad moved three times. The first settlement was in Northern Maine. Then Wyoming. We kept going west because of population expansion.”

Kathy got nervous when she thought about where they could end up next but did not voice her concerns. Instead, she said, “I think this is everything.”

Peter looked at her curiously. “Seriously, is that all you have?”

She nodded her head. “I sold all my furniture so there’s no heavy stuff. There’s going to be some boxes delivered by UPS but what you hauled in the Jeep is pretty much it.”

“Wow,” Peter said admiringly. “Both Bobby and I are hoarders. We’re going to need the entire Amtrak fleet if we have to move.”

“Do I have a schedule?”

Peter pulled out a piece of folded paper and said, “This is for tomorrow’s soiree. Don’t worry, it’s nothing official.”

Kathy shuddered and muttered, “Still not going to enjoy it.”

Peter gave one sheepish shrug and left without a word. Kathy sighed and rolled her shoulders. She had no idea how tense she was until Peter was gone. Even though she didn’t feel at all threatened by the younger brother, Kathy still couldn’t trust him completely.

Let’s face it, they’ve got ulterior motives out the ying-yang. And no matter how friendly they are, or genuinely receptive the workplace is - I’ll always question their motives.

Kathy sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She could no longer ignore the challenge that lay ahead of her.

Most people would’ve walked away, and if she’d never met the people involved, Kathy would have done the same. But she did meet Peter, at his worst and at his best. She also met his older brother who should be canonized for the sacrifices he’d made to ensure the safety of his people. And without her knowing, they’d drawn her into their world: their hell.

If I wasn’t so worried, I’d be laughing right about now, Kathy admitted to herself with a small grin. But I made my bed so I guess I’m going to have to lie in it and hope for the best.

Still, even with that quiet resignation, Kathy pocketed her second cell phone. She’d bought it for emergency sake, in case she needed help and couldn’t trust her old one. She wasn’t sure, but Kathy thought someone had hacked into her e-mail account. And that meant someone had also compromised her laptop.

With those less cheerful thoughts, Kathy went to unpacking her bags.

The party was well attended and since it took place at the mansion, not very crowded. Both Bobby and Peter introduced her to her co-workers, including two lab techs who would be helping her full time.

Not to her surprise, both were married to each other for nearly seven years. To hear them telling it, it was love at first sight when the met in eleventh grade. In spite of her parents’ furious objections, Jeanne married Nigel Banner right after graduating, and attended Northwestern with him. During Nigel’s freshman year, his mother heard about the Eichel’s colony and told him. Right after graduation he wrote to Bobby whose response included a job offer and a decent shot at a semi-normal life.

It was obvious to Kathy that Nigel was convinced that he was the luckiest man on this side of the Mississippi. The least of being Jeanne’s healthy take on his ‘affliction’. In fact, most of the people Kathy met were either married or engaged to marry in the near future.

Kathy voiced her humorous take on this social phenomenon when she finally found herself alone with Peter.

“I had no idea marriage was a requisite if someone wanted to work with you.”

Peter gave a chagrinned look. “It looks it, doesn’t it? The truth is marriage seems to settle us down a bit. Nigel was just eighteen when he got married, and he was still in the throes of the trans. But his curve took a sharp downfall after he got married to Jeanne.

“Bobby thinks it’s a documentable occurrence: that marriage seems to do something to our psyche and helps us to produce the good hormones necessary to gain some control over ourselves.”

“I can believe that,” Kathy said. “There’s tons of data that support the idea that patients suffering from serious illnesses react better to treatments and recover faster when they have loved ones with them. That idea is pretty much treated as fact when the patients are children.”

“Exactly,” Peter said. “Besides, it’s not as if we could go to eHarmony, fill out some boxes and hope for the best.”

Kathy grinned at the thought. “No, I don’t think that would work either.” She looked at Peter. “So, what’s your excuse?”

Peter startled as if she goosed him. “I’m sorry? What?”

“You’re still single. How did that come about?”

“Oh, I don't go out much and … I’ve never had formal education.”

“Why not?”

“My father thought it’d be too risky to send me to such a public arena. So, I was homeschooled. I wanted to go to college, but wasn’t able to - all things considered.”

Kathy knew Peter was lying. There was a grain of truth in his answer but she knew he was fudging in order not to honestly answer her question. Of course, the question had been incredibly personal, so that might be why he was hesitant to tell her.

But she suspected otherwise.

Peter looked at the retreating figure as Kathy ambled back to Hector and to her temporary home. He was sure she knew he’d lied to her about the college situation, or the lack thereof. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, a sure signal that a headache was on the horizon.

Peter still dreamt of ivy-covered walls, of hallowed walkways and green grass that was laid down before the Civil War. He felt the ache of hollowness where easy camaraderie should have resided, and the empty want where memories of girlfriends should have slumbered.

Still, he had no one to blame for his predicament. Not when he was the one who’d destroyed that particular dream, tramped on it and tore at it with claws until everything that was good and decent was rendered into corrupted flesh.

“Do you think she enjoyed the party?” Bobby asked as he entered the room.

“I think she likes her coworkers. Don’t know about the party.”

Bobby smiled at the honest answer. “True, now hopefully she’ll settle down and hit the ground running.”

“We’re using her, you know that - right?”

“Does that matter?” Bobby retorted sharply. “Especially since she already knows?”

“It should, shouldn’t it?” Peter asked.

“Peter, we talked about this,” Bobby said.

“Did you tell her? I mean tell her everything? Why she was summoned here? Why you’re so concerned on my behalf?”

“No,” Bobby confessed. “Not yet. And hopefully the subject won’t come up ever.” He walked over to Peter and laid a gentle hand on a sloping shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Peter. You couldn’t have done anything to stop it from happening.”

Peter remained silent; his gaze trained on the spot where Kathy disappeared from his sight.

The first day of work was uneventful. Nevertheless, Kathy found herself fully occupied since she spent the entire day getting acquainted with her lab and the couple who would help her run it.

It took her the entire morning getting used to her new computer. Its software wasn’t anything she was familiar with, though it resembled Mac OsX in some ways. Its interface wasn’t made for everyday usage, so Kathy knew it was completely dedicated to work.

Then Kathy used up her lunch break to find her way about the compound. After giving in to the idea that she could get lost just by going to the bathroom, she enlisted Nigel’s help in giving her a thorough tour.

“How could this place go overlooked?” Kathy asked when she discovered a second cafeteria. “It’s an immense complex.”

“It was originally a military bunker that was decommissioned then forgotten. When the Eichel family bought their estate, they did so knowing they had purchased the bunker also, and all the land surrounding it.”

“Wait a minute - how much of the island do they own?”

“Besides the town and the docks, most of it. At least eighty percent would be my guess.”

“And that didn’t raise any red flags?”

“No, they did it through shell companies. From what I understand they’ve been doing this for years.”

Nigel suddenly became quiet. Kathy realized that he’d said more than she should have. She tapped the wall a few times. “Wow, feels like it could survive earthquakes.”

“The government probably built it to,” Nigel supplied reluctantly.

Kathy turned the topic to work when she realized that particular tap of information was all dried out. But she kept the details in her head for when she had some time to do more extensive research on her boss and the company she signed up with.

She might have done the research a lot more quickly if she’d known Nigel had reported his indiscretion to Bobby. The man dismissed it, noting that should Kathy be able to make sense of his financial dealings, she was in the wrong business.

In spite of her new digs and the extraordinary circumstances surrounding her workplace, Kathy quickly managed to get into a rhythm between work and home. She fell in love with the bungalow and didn’t go out of her way to find a more proper place. It was small but her condo back in Boston was equivalently the same size and lacked the astonishing view she now had of the Pacific Ocean.

As the weather warmed up, Kathy made it a habit to go for a run before work. She observed there was a lot of morning bikers, some in casual clothes and others in more expensive getup, who shared the trails with joggers. It didn’t take long for her to notice that most of the townsfolk were either healthy or fit enough to compete in amateur sports competitions.

She talked with couple of people and discovered that indeed they were training for triathlons though they were in their mid-forties. And this wasn’t even the most interesting phenomenon either.

Every afflicted patient she’d met was married with a strong family life. Kathy soon termed this occurrence as ‘Little House on the Prairie Syndrome’ - a notation that she wisely kept to herself. But the resemblances were eerie; a strong father with a wife who was both professionally successful and a capable mother. Usually there was at least one child present if not more.

What was also obvious was the daughter to son ratio was nearly three to one.

Kathy didn’t have to ask anyone why this was the case. She only felt sadness that the need to have children was completely at odds with the desire not to have the child suffer.

Kathy was having a lunch with Jeanne when she remembered something that’d been nagging her since the beginning. “Why is the word ‘wanderer’ used?”

Jeanne sighed and put down her garishly-decorated mug. Kathy suspected it was a handmade present from Nigel. “When this phenomenon was first recorded, the men were driven out of their homes and towns and forced to wander until they died or … or forgot.”

“Forgot? Forgot what, exactly?”

“Some of them - when they’re hungry enough or angry or just despondent - they shift. And then they stay that way until they died, which was pretty damn soon.”

Kathy’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait a minute, they can do that? Choose?”

“From what I’ve read - they forget completely. After a while in that state, they go wild. Their lifespan becomes incredibly truncated, but imagine: a human life filled with hunger, disease and fear, or a short life of full stomach and no fear.”

Kathy recollected some of the stories she’d read about the Middle Ages. She had to admit the choice to become ‘wild’ was definitely the more attractive one.

“So, the ones who choose to remain human - they end up wandering?”

“For the rest of their lives,” Jeanne said. “Or until they’re killed. Remember - they are not invulnerable while in human form. For the very lucky few, they find a haven.”

“Like Wade,” Kathy added.

“Yes, the Wanderers would find each other and then band. They have to move often back in those days because of the killings around their village attracted attention. And sooner or later, their human neighbors would figure out what was happening and arm themselves.”

“This was happening everywhere?”

Jeanne nodded. “Pretty much. Even though they were unaware of each other’s existence, the various clans did the same thing: band, consolidate, and then move about. It was the only way they could survive back then.

“This is why there are negative themes about wanderers throughout European history.”

“About them bringing plagues and devilry and all that stuff?”

Jeanne nodded. “And worse.”

“Do you know how many colonies exist currently?”

“Four for sure,” Jeanne answered, “though I’ve heard rumors of more. You have to understand, after receiving centuries of abuse, they’ve become quite secretive. It’s the only way they could have survived for so long.”

“How long has this colony been around?”

“Since before World War II,” Jeanne said. “They moved to the States right after the war ended. From what I’ve read, they’ve suffered great deal in the hands of the Germans and the Russians. They originated in Poland, you see.”

Kathy didn’t need any further explanation. She could only look at her slippers. “How did they manage it?” she asked softly. “To not get caught?”

“They went deeper into the woods and became resistance fighters. As you can imagine they inflicted quite a few casualties.”

Kathy didn’t think too much about how little impact Jeanne’s statement made on her. “But then why move after the war?”

“The Russians,” Jeanne answered. “They didn’t want to have any remnants of people who are capable of fighting against a trained military organization. The clan fled south to France. Dr. Eichel had extensive connections in the States before the Nazis took over so it didn’t take much for him to get invited over here.”

“And brought over an entire town?”

Jeanne smiled broadly. “He brought over few people first, but within the year their families joined them and so on and so forth.”

“Were there clans here?”

“None that revealed themselves when the Eichel family reached these fair shores. Again, it’s that caution based on paranoia thing. Kept them alive and safe for centuries, they certainly wouldn’t have changed such a practice after the war.”

“Can’t argue with that either,” Kathy admitted readily. “By the way, thanks for answering my questions. I would try approaching other people but I don’t know how they’d react.”

“I won’t lie - a lot of people are sensitive but that’s just because they’ve got family members who’re suffering or who’d suffered. Not to mention their history which is both bloody and ugly. But I’m glad I was able to give what you needed.”

“The Eichel family - they got relatives back in Poland?”

Jeanne shrugged. “Not that I know of, but I never asked.” She looked delicately at the mug encased in her palms. “It’s not something that can be asked over coffee and scones.”

“No, it isn’t,” Kathy agreed. “It’s hard to ask about the history of all this when it’s so personal for everyone. Even for those who aren’t afflicted.”

“You have to think about it as a genetic disease that you’ve studied. If you start focusing on the other factors, you won’t be able to make a mental leap necessary to successfully work on this.”

Kathy rubbed her eyes and said tiredly, “Mental blocks aren’t my problems. Stumbling blocks are. I know family histories don’t count for much in my corner of the world, but I’m coming in blind here. And that’s not a sensation I’m accustomed to.”

“You won’t be for long,” Jeanne replied, giving a reassuring pat on Kathy’s hands. “I was in the same boat as you but it didn’t take me long at all to get familiar with Nigel’s history.”

Kathy gave a tired smile. The two women fell into companionable silence. They didn’t discuss work as they are only too well aware of how the other was doing. And since neither had much in the way of social life, that topic dried up quickly early in their friendship. But they found each other’s silence comforting: Kathy because she grew up with five brothers and Jeanne because Nigel was so voluble.

Peter rechecked his e-mail status and all his other internet outposts, making sure they wouldn’t implode in his absence. He knew this personal fiefdom of his would seem trivial if not outright laughable when compared to Bobby’s, but he still felt great responsibility to those who found safety in his cyber domain.

Have to see if Lee is ever planning to come back, Peter thought. I don’t know what spooked him but I have to find out because I can’t have that happen again.

The lurker who called himself Lee showed all the symptoms of a Wanderer, including extreme paranoia. But Peter’s board - Transient - was specifically designed to ferret out people like Lee and convince him that he didn’t have to live the rest of his life in misery and fear; that, though limited, there were options available to him.

Peter sighed and stood up from his chair. Then he began the stretching routine he’d always performed before his trans. For reasons Peter wasn’t sure, it always made his transformation lot less painful to recover from.

The tell-tale trembling had begun in his hands, and his vision became blurred as if he’d drank too much tequila.

Peter pressed a button on a wristband and Bobby appeared within the next minute.

“You ready?” he asked.

Peter gave a small nod. “It’s kicking in faster than last time.”

“We can talk about it later,” Bobby said as he tugged Peter to the doorway.

Peter followed his brother to the restraining room on the second floor. He downed the bottle of water waiting for him and handed it over to Bobby. He then took off his robe before stepping inside. The panic room was composed of two separate containment chambers, with the one further in being the main unit.

Bobby locked the doors to both rooms and quickly made his way to his office where he could monitor his brother’s progress.

He settled down to watch over Peter for the night when the intruder alarm tore through the mansion. He then heard the front doors crash open followed by all-too-familiar howling.

Bobby didn’t spare a moment. He dove into the private elevator hidden behind a false wall paneling. It led him directly to a safety room where he could monitor the property in relative safety.

Bobby checked the monitors and to his horror found not one but three fully transformed Wanderers wrecking his home. They were on the second floor, obviously looking for the occupants. Bobby wondered if Peter was truly safe. Though his room was able to withstand a Wanderer, it was designed to contain, not defend.

The three intruders tore up most of the house in their search but were unable to locate either Bobby or Peter. Enraged, they stormed out of the mansion. Bobby began making calls, reaching only a third of the people he needed to talk to.

Sarah picked up the call on Bobby’s third try. “We’re under attack!”

Bobby mentally swore. “I was hoping it wasn’t that.”

“Dr. Duncan is safe with me. The bastards were noisy when they started transing so I had enough time to get her here. I think the others either heard or felt them. I’m pretty sure few of ours went to meet them on the docks.”

“Do you know how many attackers?”

“I’ve counted seventeen including humans, maybe more but not much more.”

“Thanks, Sarah. Keep Dr. Duncan with you. I’ll start the sweep immediately from the house and head down to Hector.”

“Be careful, you don’t know if there were any stragglers left behind.”

“I will.” With that Bobby ended the call. He opened a cabinet in the room and took out an aerosol gun and a facemask. He put on the gear and loaded the gun with a neurotoxin derived from box jellyfish venom. Though it wouldn’t render an attacker unconscious, it would completely paralyze even the most violent of the Wanderers. Unfortunately, it caused a great deal of pain but right now Bobby didn’t care much for the comfort of the attackers who had laid waste to his home and his beloved town.

Bobby slowly made his way down a quiet walkway that tied the mansion to Hector through the edge of the woods that encompassed them both. He didn’t meet any invaders though he hadn’t been in a confrontational mode. His primary goal was to reach the town and help the wounded.

Bobby had barely made it to Hector’s outskirts when he discovered first casualty.

“Oh shit,” he hissed.

The body was a Wanderer, which meant he was killed while he was still in his altered form. From the damage inflicted, his killer was another Wanderer. Cursing his luck, Bobby increased his speed, moving towards the town center. If he were to meet up with a Wanderer in a thickly-wooded area, Bobby’s chances of survival were next to nil in spite of his weapon.

To his relief, the town’s electricity was still running properly. Bobby had the power lines buried along with water and sewer system the first chance he got to protect the island from bad storms. He’d heard too many stories about blackouts on Whidbey and Bainbridge Island during the colder months.

He’d never planned for a terrorist attack by another clan.

Good to know it held up to this.

The first sign of trouble was a car fire on a side street. He saw people running out of their houses, some armed with weapons, others with just knives.

Bobby recognized one. “Liz!” he shouted.

The woman turned to him. “Jesus! Are you okay?”

“I had three visit me,” he gave a curt nod towards the car fire. “Do you need help getting this out?”

Liz shook her head. “No, just find Marcus.”

Bobby blanched. Marcus was Liz’s younger brother and barely out of his teens. “He transed?”

Liz nodded and said, “He saw the attackers come down the street and ran out to meet them. He had no choice, Bobby.”

“Do you know where he could be?”

“The docks? He took out one and chased after the second who went back down to the waterfront,” Liz paused to take a deep breath. “Bobby, there were a lot of them.”

Bobby gave Liz a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. “Put out this fire as quick as you can. Then go to the church and stay there until you've been given the all-clear.”

Liz gave a shaky nod and rejoined the others who were trying to put out the fire before it spread to other cars and houses surrounding it. He saw the three armed people take a protective stance around them.

Bobby hurried over to the next street. This one was quiet save for the house in the middle.

He felt horror coil around his heart when he recognized the place and recalled who lived in it.

Bobby slowly entered the front door that was busted wide open. In fact, the entire frame had been torn to pieces.

The scent that assailed his senses was unmistakable: salty, irony, and wet.

He found Mike and Trish Darren in the kitchen. Mike was in the midst of a trans when he was torn to pieces. Trish was thrown clear across the room, and the impact had killed her.

Bobby slowly made his way upstairs. He found the twin sisters in their cribs. Bobby didn’t look too hard - he’d already seen enough to haunt him to his grave.

Please God … Please God, Bobby prayed feverishly as he entered Jonathan’s room.

It took one glance for Bobby to see his prayers went unanswered. The condition of the boy’s room was the worst he’d seen in the entire house. All the windows were broken and the bed was shattered, some pieces no bigger than legos.

Bobby took a step towards the desk when he kicked something on the floor. The object rolled noisily, catching his attention. He picked up the vial and took a casual sniff. “Son of a bitch!”

His cell phone trilled, making Bobby jump. He looked at the caller ID and immediately answered. “Chris!”

“I’ve been going down my block,” the man said breathlessly. “Bobby, they took Nate.”

“I think they came here to collect,” Bobby said. “They got Jonathan.”

“What about Trish and Mike? And the girls?”

“They’re all dead, Chris.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” Chris took a rattled breath and asked, “Do you know how many kids were taken?”

“Not yet,” Bobby said. “But I’ll find out when everyone calls in.”

“They didn’t take the girls … so … they were just looking for boys this time,” Chris said. “Do you have any idea who they were? Did they belong to a clan?”

“I have no idea,” Bobby said. “But we should know better by sunrise. Just gather everyone up and bring them to the panic room at the church. Try to find which one of us transed during the raid.”

“Will do.” There was a heavy pause before Chris asked, “What if we stumble over the attackers?”

“Don’t confront them,” Bobby barked out. “If they’re wounded, let them be. I’ll take care of them during the sweep.”

“Not a problem,” Chris said, obviously relieved not to deal with murderers.

Bobby made his way down Main Street and met up with a good number of shocked townsfolk wandering about. He directed them to either the church or the elementary school where emergency services should be setting up.

He saw fire trucks roar by and fervently prayed the men wouldn’t come upon any stray Wanderers.

The Town Hall was lit up and Bobby saw police officers running in and out of the building. He waved to Tunney, the captain of the small department.

“Do you have any numbers yet?”

“None,” Tunney answered tersely. “Whoever they were, they had a plan, and they executed it perfectly. In and out in less than fifteen minutes and this was during their trans.”

“So they’ve been trained,” Bobby said.

“No doubt about it,” Tunney said. “We’ve had reports of three Wanderers near the cemetery, but they must be the older ones because they took off into the woods when they were spotted. If they were young ones we’d be seeing lot more bodies.”

“Ours?”

“I really hope so,” Tunney said, grimacing. “I don’t like the thought of hunting three strangers during night and in the woods.”

“I wanted to tell you I’ve scoped out Elm Place and Liz told me Marcus transed. I also checked Bonham - they killed the Darrens and took Jonathan.”

“Shit, so they were collecting,” Tunney said, paling. “Oh my God, that means there might be more bodies we’re not aware of.”

“We’re going to have to do a house-to-house to get a firm head count.”

“We’ll do that,” Tunney said. “Bobby, keep yourself safe. We can’t afford to lose you or Peter.”

“I know,” Bobby said softly. “I’m going to go check on Jeanne. See if Nigel was one of the ones who transed.”

“Be careful.”

Bobby heeded the warning and doubled his caution as he made his way to Kelly Square where Jeanne and Nigel lived along with four other families.

He found Jeanne sitting in the front lawn, screaming while shaking something in her embrace.

The headless corpse was a Wanderer but he trusted Jeanne to recognize her husband’s body in all its incarnations.

The other families were hovering around Jeanne, tearful, shocked, and completely unable to help the widow.

Will McGarrett, chief editor of the town paper, spotted him and trotted over. From the dark circles eating his eyes Bobby knew Will had transed.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Will answered. Then gave a ferocious grin. “I hate transing back with gristle in my teeth.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“They were foreigners, that’s for sure. The ones who remained human - they spoke in a language I never heard.”

Jeanne’s cries grew louder and more grating. Will looked at her with great sadness but no pity.

“I have to talk to her,” Bobby said.

Will stepped aside and let him by. He joined his family as they huddled closer and away from Jeanne.

Bobby sat next to her and whispered, “He’s not here anymore.”

Jeanne shook her head, blood falling from the tips of her hair. “He saw them … he saw them and … he went out. There was only two but then suddenly there were five. Five. Will came but it was too late. They tore Nigel apart.”

Bobby peeled back Jeanne’s bloodied hands from her husband’s shell. “He’s not here anymore.”

Jeanne leaned on Bobby as he pulled her away from the corpse. She stood on unsteady legs as he led her back into her house.

Will felt his wife tug on his sleeve and looked down. Meredith gave a knowing smile before joining Bobby and Jeanne, taking her place besides the grieving woman. Will stayed behind but the rest of the families marched towards the center of town where sirens and cars began snaking down from the hills to congregate.

Kathy looked at the patients lying in the room. All were men, all transed when the attackers approached their homes. She honestly thought few of them would die when she first began treating them, but their super-immune system kicked in and they were well on their way to healing.

Doctor Simmons, who was heading up the triage, gave Kathy a mug of coffee. “Well done, Doctor Duncan.”

“You know I’m not a real doctor.”

“No, you most certainly aren’t,” Simmons said with a quirk in her lips. “But like most researchers you know how to take directions. Comes from all those years slaving as a PhD in someone else’s lab.”

Kathy looked at Simmons from the corner of her eye. “And you must be a surgeon. Only surgeons have a God Complex as big as yours.”

Simmons grinned broadly. “Oh yes.”

The two women looked at the wounded with equal parts of pride and wonder.

“How many fatalities?” Kathy finally forced herself to ask.

“So far seven,” Simmons answered. “It looks like they came for the children, and when the parents got in the way they were murdered.”

“Why would they do something like this?” Kathy shook her head in disbelief. “They must know the Eichel family will be looking for payback, and that’s death wish in a can right there.”

Simmons took a deep drink before answering. “Some clans - well, let’s just say they’re not as popular as ours. You have to understand, we’re very civilized, even advanced. There are others who believe what we’re doing is against Nature, against what it truly means to be a Wanderer.”

“So they resort to kidnapping and murder to voice their disapproval?”

Simmons’ smile was bitter and twisted. “No, as you can imagine such practitioners have a hard time attracting mates, or at least ones who are willing to bear them children and nurse them. After a while, thanks to repeated inbreeding, genetic mutations appear.

“Dementia being one?”

“That’s one of the symptoms,” Simmons answered. “But there are even more dangerous problems that arise with those who have the disorder.”

“So, to enhance the gene pool,” Kathy paled greatly, “they steal healthy children.”

“Mostly male though we’ve heard of raids for girls, too.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“Now, the town is going to vote.”

“Vote to do what?”

Simmons’ face hardened. “Whether to let the clan responsible live after we retrieve our stolen boys or kill them all.”

Kathy barely had enough strength to put down her mug on a table. “What?”

“It’s ancient law, doctor. When a clan is devastated like this - it is their right to punish the ones responsible any way they see fit. So, if the town decides that the raiders and anyone who helped them will die - then that’s what Bobby and Peter will do.

“And no other clan will interfere lest they be handed the same punishment.”

“But that could mean wiping out hundreds of people!”

“Hundreds who helped plan the near destruction of this entire island, and the kidnapping of nine children. Trust me: they knew what they were getting into when this started.”

Kathy’s eyes widened when she realized what Simmons was hinting at. “This happened before?”

“Long time ago,” Simmons answered. “Right after World War II. There was a raid similar to this one - the Eichel family sought retribution and got it.”

Kathy felt every drop of spit in her mouth disappear. She’d known that she was getting into a dangerous field when she’d joined Bobby’s company. But she had no idea how dangerous it would be.

“When … when will the decision be made?”

“Soon,” Simmons answered. “Before the trail gets cold.”

“The kids who are taken; what happens to them?”

“I can’t discuss that,” Simmons whispered. She saw the shocked look on Kathy’s face and added, “Not because I’m not allowed to, but because it’s too upsetting.”

Kathy had to blink at that revelation. After what Simmons had endured as the practicing physician on the island and what she’d seen tonight, it was hard for Kathy to imagine something even worse, so much worse that the doctor couldn’t bear to speak of it.

Peter was flipping the coin in great agitation as he waited for Bobby to finish the town meeting. He knew it would be a long one since the town had to be unanimous in their telling of what had happened on Wade.

Fortunately, the damage to Hector was easily reparable by the townsfolk themselves. Many of them were either artisans or contractors by profession so it would take them about a month to get everything back to normal. The deaths would be harder to explain but Peter was sure with the cooperation of the surviving family members and Bobby’s connections - the true nature of the deaths would be successfully hidden.

But Peter’s main concern was why the meeting was held to begin with. It’d been three days since the raid and everyone was now geared towards only one thing: rescuing the nine boys taken from them.

Giving a sigh of relief Peter rushed downstairs when he heard Bobby’s Lexus pull up the driveway. He waited anxiously as his brother entered the foyer.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked breathlessly.

“Black.”

“All black?” Peter asked, wondering how many of his friends and neighbors had voted death for those who perpetuated the atrocity.

“Out of seven hundred and twenty-six votes: seven hundred and eleven were black.”

Peter’s eyes grew huge as he collapsed on the stairs. “Are you sure?”

Bobby nodded as he sat next to Peter. “Yeah, I counted twice. Tunney did just once more to make sure.”

“So … ninety-five percent of the town wants blood retribution?”

“Yeah,” Bobby answered. “I’ve never heard of numbers like that: not even during dad’s time.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Follow up some leads,” Bobby said, rubbing his face to stave of exhaustion. “Find the money trail - you can never go wrong with that.”

“Okay then,” Peter said, his voice still hollow with shock. “I’m going to bed. What about you?”

“I’m going to the lab. Jay found something he wants me to take a look at.”

“Don’t stay up to long. The shit’s just getting started.”

Bobby gave a thin smile before leaving.

He spotted Jay nervously pacing outside the containment unit. Bobby wondered what had upset his old friend. The man barely gave a sigh when he got caught up in the horrific San Francisco earthquake in 1989.

Jay saw him and didn’t bother with any niceties. “Are you sure about this?”

“We don’t have any time to waste,” Bobby said. “This is the quickest way to get answers and we both know it.”

“If Peter found out…”

“He never will,” Bobby said, soothing his friend. “I’ve turned off all the monitoring in the room. There won’t be any record of what happens in there for the rest of the night.”

“All right, then. Just be careful. It’s been years since you’ve done this.”

“I will.”

As soon as the door slid closed behind Bobby, Avers quickly made his way to the observation center next door.

He watched Bobby enter the core room and take off his robe. He’d only seen Bobby naked twice before and realized the man had lost even more weight. Yet, in spite of his painful slimness, it was obvious Bobby was fit.

Suddenly, the quiet shattered as a roar echoed inside the core room and the one Jay was in. In fact, it was so loud Jay grimaced and covered his ears. The sound didn’t affect Bobby the same way: he smiled in reply.

Jay closed his eyes as Bobby’s head dropped back. But when Bobby’s howl of rage answered the initial call, Jay forced himself to look.

Unlike his younger brother, Bobby’s transformed physique retained some of its original proportion. His torso elongated as did his face. And yet, Jay fancied that he could still recognize Bobby’s human visage within the lupine mask.

But what gripped his attention so completely was how human Bobby’s eyes were. They weren’t in throes of animalistic rage. However, the human intelligence was in some ways more upsetting, for they were cold, calculating and utterly alien because Avers knew how they looked under normal circumstances.

When Bobby’s trans was complete Avers did as he was told. He initiated a remote control that Bobby had given him earlier. The wall facing Bobby slid open and the carrier of the first howl lumbered in.

Jay watched as the two creatures enfolded each other in nerve-rendering screams and claws. But soon thereafter looked away as guilt and horror enfolded him.

Bobby looked down at the wounded man, feeling equal parts satisfaction and repulsion that he had so thoroughly decimated his opponent. But he knew the quickest way to get the necessary answers was to establish complete dominance over the prisoner.

“So, Andro,” Bobby said, silently thankful that his voice wasn’t paying the price for his quick transing in and out of his Wanderer form. “Do we have an understanding?”

He didn’t expect the man to answer: Andro Elez’s jaw was shattered - a by-product of their fight. Nevertheless, Andro’s desire to please his alpha was overwhelming: he whimpered and gave a painful nod.

“Good, someone will give you painkillers. Then I expect you to answer all the questions. Be careful, we’ll know if you’re lying. And I will be very disappointed with you.”

Andro curled into himself. A spectacular effort since all his limbs were either shattered or dislocated

Bobby closed his eyes and then drew a deep breath. He spat viciously on Elez. Then, without another word, he left.

The first thing he did was take a shower to wash the blood and grime off. He quickly followed that up with a meal that would have easily rivaled his brother’s.

The entire time he wanted nothing more than to drink himself into a stupor. He was eyeing the whiskey bottle when Avers joined him.

“How is he?” Bobby asked, not making any eye contact.

“Painkillers are doing their job; his body’s doing the rest.”

“Did he give us anything?”

Avers gave a kind smile. “He gave us everything. As it turns out he had rank in his clan.”

“Then why did they leave him behind?”

“They were ordered to kill themselves if that happened. Mr. Elez thought otherwise.”

Bobby felt his appetite disappear as his rage bared its teeth again. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and stood up. “I want everything forwarded to my computer.”

“Already done,” Avers said. “I’m guessing asking you to sleep is out of the question?”

“Of course not,” Bobby said. “But you know what my answer will be, right?”

“Right,” Avers said. “Still, go home for a while. That way Peter won’t be so worried when he wakes up and finds you gone.”

“That was a cheap shot,” Bobby said, “but effective. I’ll see you at eight, then?”

“At eight.”

Bobby waited until he couldn’t hear Avers’ ghostly footsteps before pouring himself a generous glass of whisky. He then dumped the rest of the bottle down the drain. Bobby couldn’t afford to have any kind of distraction in the coming days.

Not if he wanted the nine children alive and keep their clan’s reputation when they retaliated against those responsible for nearly exposing them to the public.

The End

Author's Notes:

First off and most importantly: thanks to the mods for hosting what could easily become a logistical nightmare.

I apologize for the abrupt ending, but Sons of Atreus was spiraling out of control. It was originally just a 10k story that had woven itself into a full blown novel. And I didn't have enough time to write a 50-60k epic, much less edit it!

Hopefully I will be able to finish it in a sequel. But please note the focus on the word 'hopefully'.

As usual, I will upload a music mix to go along with the story, but here's something even better! A mix by wtfbrain:




Here are individual track listings, also. Enjoys, folks!