Iron — exactly what I needed. The sanguine snack helped satiate my hunger, but now that my stomach started to rest, I was able to focus more on the fissures and burns on my skin, which would had been painful enough to begin with, even if they didn’t have a new coat of fur protruding through, and engorged muscles stretching the shit out of them.

The buzzard who seemed so ready to devour me just an hour before pulled up just in time to scrape any remaining flesh from the bodies. I didn’t leave him much, but I’m guessing he didn’t often get fresh human sashimi.

My gait was much faster now, and I was able to work into a run, following alongside the road, but remaining in the shadows so as to avoid being spotted. It was going to be a long night, or at least I figured as much. I had no fucking clue where I was, and even less of an idea of where I was headed. After a 25 minute marathon, I saw the sign:

Bishop City Limits
Elevation 4,147ft Population 3,410

Bishop. It was Rick. What the fuck did Rick want with me? I hadn’t even spoken to him in almost a year. He better hope the sun comes up before I get to him. I mean, I’m still going to kill him. But at least if the new day starts and my fangs and fur recede, his parents may still be able to identify his body when I’m done with it. He won’t look pretty, but they might be able to squint and see it in his eyes or something. Whatever. Fuck him. And fuck them for making him.

The first full moon of the month would be out tonight and I’d be given a break from this hell. A sunset never felt so long, and my mouth never felt so dry. No doubt I would have died out here, without my belt I was only at the mercy of natures lunar cycle. And because of this well timed event, the world would now be at the mercy of a pissed off and thirsty as fuck beast.

Standing upright I closed my eyes and tilted my head back letting the last of the suns orange glow bathe the cracking skin of my face. Then I felt it. My eyes opened and I knew their color had already started to darken, my arms and legs felt heavier for a moment then much lighter. As I bent down the sand felt almost cool and refreshing between my fingers. The air smelled better, more textured, and less harsh and hot than before. I reached over my shoulder and tore the shirt from my back. I took a deep breath in through my nose and could smell the asphalt of a road to my East, my road home. I sprang from my rest into a full gallop toward the road, my body changing at my will to better suit running on all fours. My arms grew, my shoulders raised, my spine and skull re worked to allow my look forward. The feeling never got old, the taste of the air was sweet, the rushing of it through the hair now covering my body was exhilarating, and the sound of it whipping across my now extended face was magnificent. And then another sound joined in to the symphony. A low humming in the distance let me know a car was coming from the North, fast. I turned my stride South East, I would cut them off, my thirst would be quenched.

I was big now, I had absorbed much of what the moon offered and I had grew with it. Anger and joy pounded through me as the distance between the road and myself closed. The hunt, the feeding, the trap.

They never knew what hit them, I leapt from my run right into the side of their SUV, smashing my back into the broadside of the vehicle. It sailed sideways and began to roll one way from my collisions, then simultaneously hood over hindquarters from the vehicle’s forward momentum. I sat on the side off the road watching them tumble and cartwheel, smelling their blood and licking my lips. My maw will be quenched with their flesh.

Thank God that buzzard started pecking at my blistered skin when he did. If he hadn’t, I might not have ever woken up. The heat was excruciating, and my mouth felt swollen and desperate for anything that might resemble water. I wonder if buzzard blood tastes as bad as it sounds. It’s a moot point anyway, since my strained, weak, get-the-fuck-out-of-here swats were enough to let him know I wasn’t dinner yet.

I’ve got to find shade, and I’ve got to find water – fast. Sun block would be nice too, but something tells me there isn’t a Walgreens anywhere near here. The grains of sand ripped at the bottoms of my feet, already baked from the desert sun. But if I didn’t use my last bit of energy now, I knew they’d win, whoever they may be.

This wasn’t like Tony. He and I weren’t exactly friends, but he was a clean killer. If he didn’t like you, he took you out point blank, and maybe a friend or family member or two. None of this twisted sadistic Hollywood shit. And Frank? Frank was small time. He’s too busy running his two-bit bookie operation to be able to execute something like this, not to mention too stupid. I don’t know who I pissed off, but I’m not sure they’ve realized who they pissed off.

There’s a reason they call me 9 Lives. I think I’m up to seven now, but the way I see it, that still leaves a comfortable buffer. Fact is you can call me whatever name you want. I don’t have anything on me except my ratty sun-tattered clothes – no ID, no money, nothing. Not that my IDs gave you much real information anyway. I like to live on the outside, but I guess this is part of the price you pay for such a lifestyle. The sun is finally starting to settle down for the night, but I’m just getting started.