Life With A Werewolf

Coda - Part 1

         The word schadenfreude came to mind when I saw him. The unkempt hair bore very little resemblance to the hundred dollar haircut that he had when I saw him last. His clothing wasn't bought at some boutique on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. They were torn, musty, and probably stolen from a Goodwill somewhere. But he had the same sharp look in his eyes when he saw me. Verner Behring didn't lose that at least.
         I knew he was hoping that we'd meet in some fancy restaurant. But, I couldn't afford such places, so I deliberately chose the fast food location that Mitch worked at. I made sure to arrive in the middle of his shift. Whatever Verner was up to, I wanted to be prepared.
         His sight frightened me at first. When approached he looked at me with large puppy dog eyes outside the restaurant. Words cannot explain the amount of damage I would like to have done to him. But it appeared that life had beaten me to it. The exhaustion and sadness in his eyes pulled at my heart strings enough that I paid for his meal.
         After getting our burgers, his being much larger than mine, I carried our food to the booth in the far corner and sat down. It was the only one in the restaurant that didn't leave one of us staring at the isle or the poor customers eating opposite. Verner glanced around, as if trying to find a spy hanging out near the bathroom or the side door. There was a defeated look on his face.
         "I never thought the last act I'd do on this Earth would be to help you," he said. He grabbed his massive burger and prepared to take a bite.
          I shrugged, "Well, I never thought we'd be dating, but here we are."
         "This isn't a date," he snarled, then a bit into his burger.
         "We met with the intention of spending time together and getting to know one another better. Plus, we met at a restaurant and I even paid for the food," I said.
         He cringed at the thought of actually dating a human. "I'd sooner date the albino," Verner grumbled.
         "Yes it is." I winked at him and blew kisses at him from across the table.
         He rolled his eyes. "This isn't a date. I'm here to tell you something, not to spend time with you."
         I smirked and took a pull from my soda. "That requires spending time with me."
         "You're an ass," Verner grumbled.
         "You're too kind," I laughed and began nibbling at my fries. "So, talk. Yes I told Crash. And my boss. They're both within earshot."
         "Not only that, but the albino in the back as well as the other werewolf that your boss called in, and the trolls who are sitting in the parking lot right now who think they're being sneaky," Verner said. He took a giant bite of his massive burger, nearly consuming one half of it. He chewed for a while, then wiped his chin. I just watched in amazement. That burger was nearly a pound of meat.
         "It's been days since I had human food," Verner said. "I apologize for my atrocious table manners. I've been living off of my hunting for weeks now and game is becoming scarce."
         I bit into my own sandwich as he smiled at me. "And now you are without a comment or a comeback. Have I finally disarmed the so-called razor whit of the great Jason Forte?"
         I rolled my eyes. "The only thing sharp about me is my knife," I said. "My whit isn't razor sharp. It's a bludgeoning object that I use repeatedly on the vain and inept."
         "I know," Verner said. "That was sarcasm."
         "If you have to say its sarcasm, then you're not being sarcastic," I replied. "You're just being dumb."
         "With the English lesson out of the way," Verner snarled. "I've come to warn you."
         "I know, someone took your place. And he's brand new to the job, so he's going to want to prove himself. The best way for him to do that, will be to tie up loose ends. How loose of an end am I?"
         Verner raised his eyes in surprise as he chewed threw another large bite of his burger. He drank down half his cola and wiped his mouth again. "That's the razor sharp whit I expected. The lone human who found a good use for zombies."
         "I got lucky," I said.
         He laughed. "We both know that. Tell that to the assholes who replaced me."
         "So, you were fired."
         "No," he said. Then he looked down at the table forlornly for a moment. "I'm to be executed. I had the displeasure of being exiled while the confederation came to a consensus about what to do with me."
         "So, switch sides," I said, leaning forward. "We can protect you, we can help you. We can..."
         His laughter cut my sales pitch off. "Your boss didn't approve your offer, I bet. You didn't even discuss it with him, did you?"
         I stared down at the table. He patted me on the shoulder. "You honestly want to help me."
         It was my turn to snarl. "You'd be a valuable source."
         He gave me a sad smile. "You are a good human. I wish we had met under different circumstances, I think perhaps you could have been a great asset for us."
         "So, why warn me," I asked.
         "I loved my job," he said. "I enjoyed what I did. I enjoyed helping humans. I bet you didn't know that, did you? Furthermore, I had several human friends, you know. Not pets. They weren't beneath me. They were just...different. To a werewolf, you're not a lower class being to be pitied. You're just a different species. One we must live in harmony with, one we must help to achieve their full potential in this dangerous and chaotic world."
         I rolled my eyes. "Spare me the sales pitch. Why are you warning me?"
         He looked out the window. "I wish you could have afforded a proper restaurant. It would have been nice to have a proper meal for my last meal. Maybe a good dessert wine and a waiter. I've always said that humans make the best wait staff. Honest, I mean that. It's a good compliment."
         "I'm sure you think so. You're going to make me guess, aren't you?"
         He leaned back and patted the table with his good arm. He was wearing that damning smirk on his face that he was so good at. "Why don't you try?"
         "Well," I said, "Let's walk through this logically. You told me you're being executed. You are acting like you're having a last meal, I'm not catching any falsehood off of you from that. You also have shown some disdain when talking about being replaced. So, you hate the person who took your job. You resent what the confederation is doing to you, but you're still loyal to the cause."
         "To a point," Verner said. "I may have failed to kill you, but I was a damn reliable and a damn intelligent operative. I did not deserve to be replaced or executed. This was his doing."
         He leaned forward, glared at me with that familiar glare. I could see a shadow of the wolf in his eyes. "I know you think I'm horrible. Incorrigible. But he is a thousand times worse. I actually like your kind. I admire you. He sees your kind as a nuisance. A mistake God made on his way to creating werewolves. One he intends to correct."
         "Sounds like a fun guy," I said. "Who is he?"
         "He will introduce himself. That is his way. He will declare formal war with you. Then he will attack you with a ferocity and intelligence you haven't seen. You, your department, your friends and family, everyone and everything you ever touched could be under attack. You will not see it coming."
         "So, I have to prepare for everything," I asked.
         "I sincerely hope you do it, you know," Verner said. "I hope you manage to kill that bastard and survive." Then he smiled. "Can I have a milkshake too?"
         "So, you want me to kill him?"
         "If anyone deserves it, it's that bastard," Verner said.
         "You're really being murdered," I asked.
         "Executed. Guillotined to be specific. I know you don't understand, but it's honor. What he is doing to the Werewolf Confederation and our human brethren is dishonorable. I'd rather die with honor than to serve dishonorably."
         I understood. Of all the things I wanted when I was serving in Uncle Sam's involuntary sandbox party, the one thing I wanted to do was come back alive. If I couldn't, I wanted to die with honor. I stood, and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll get you a milkshake. And another burger."
         He smiled, and patted my hand like an old friend. "See? We could have been good friends."
         I turned his hand pat into hand holding, and smiled "See? It's a date."
         He snarled at me and pulled away while I went to place the order. I sat with him and made small talk, which he's asked me not to print here, so I'm abiding by his wishes. If circumstances were different. If I hadn't known about werewolves, then I do believe we could have been friends. His pompous attitude is fun to prick, but he still tended to roll with the joke rather than take any real offense. I don't miss the meth headed vampire. I don't miss Kheid. But Verner, I'll miss in my own strange way. In a sense, I feel someone has to, and I'm not sure anyone else alive will.
         Needless to say, this hasn't helped my over preparing. The yard gets patrolled at night in the manner Uncle Sam trained me to. I have spent most of my money on silver bullets, and even have tried to instruct the guys on the basics of self-defense. They're just humoring me. But, bless their little hearts, they're trying.
         I do feel the coming storm. It will be a big one. I don't know how much I can protect my pack. I'm trying, but I just don't know how much I can do. It's like swimming against the current in a raging river. Is all we have, all we know going to be swept away?