Red Iron Symphony

Part Two of the Mortal Conversion series, must read Black Gold Legacy first. In California the Virals struggle to survive with FBI agent Desmond Ratheson tracking their every move, but the greatest threat they face may come from within.

Chapter One: Fox in the Garden

TWO WEEKS AGO - THE PACK

"So, Tory the wonder-wolf ran the whole way, Ben hitched rides, and I took the bus. How'd you get to sunny California, Shelton?" Hi asks.

Shelton grins. He's glad Ben kicked him out of the driver's seat; he wouldn't have been able to look at all of them without crashing the car if he were still behind the wheel. "I walked. My dad got a job in southern California."

"I can't believe we all made it." Ben says, all his relief evident in those few words.

"Woo!" Hi cheers, throwing his arms up and knocking them against the low roof of the back seat. "Virals! Virals!"

They laugh, and it feels like the first time in years.

"But it wasn't easy as all that," Tory says when they've all calmed down a little. She goes sober instantly, thinking about the things they've had to do.

"I got captured." Hi murmurs, eyes downcast as he remembers his brief stint in a cell.

"We hurt some people," Ben says, staring hard at the road.

"I almost killed a man." Tory whispers into the pensive silence.

TWO WEEKS AGO - DESMOND

"I blame that girl, Victoria. Hiram was a good boy before he met her." Helena Stolowitski says, leaning forward to stress her point. "He'd never have done any of this if it weren't for her egging him on."

"That's not really fair," Mark Stolowitski says. "Hiram has to take some responsibility for this as well."

"I just don't understand where I went wrong..." Helena says, eyes filling with tears again.

"Just tell me what happened," Desmond says.

"There were cameras, weren't there? Get the footage off of them. I can't bear to go through it again."

"It's easier to hear your side of the story."

"We were down in the lobby, filling out paperwork with one of the officers and waiting for another to bring Hiram down to us." Hiram's father begins. "And then we saw Hi and his two friends, Victoria and Ben, trying to leave. We tried to get Hi to come with us, but he refused. The cop, Officer Kay, pulled out a gun and tried to stop them. Victoria called her dog's name and it attacked Kay. They escaped."

"Nothing else? Do you remember anything else? Did they say where they were going? Mention anything?"

"A car pulled up out front." Helena says suddenly. "I don't know who was driving, but they got in fast enough."

"What color? What make?"

"Silver, I think. I don't know cars well enough to say what kind, but it looked old. It wasn't all smooth curves like today's cars, you know?"

Desmond nods, and his cell phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment." He stands, steps away from the interview table and turns his back to them. "Ratheson."

"Boss wants to know how you're doing with those cross-country runaways. I told 'im not to worry, they're teenagers and you're good at your job."

"I'm flattered, but you might regret that. These kids are smarter than you give them credit for. While I've got you, I need you to look at stolen cars in this area, older models, possibly silver."

"Running, but it might take a while - ah! Somebody up there likes you today. Not stolen in the area, but found there. '86 Chevy, silver. Plates match a car reported stolen in California two days ago. Looks like they ditched it first chance."

Desmond swore. "Okay, check bus stations, trains, everywhere. I want to know how they're traveling and where they're going."

"On it."

SEVEN WEEKS AGO - SHELTON

He hates this. He hates feeling like this, and being helpless about it. Shelton is not used to his mind doing things he doesn't tell it to.

He hasn't told it to focus on Tory and Ben and Hi, the people he left behind. He hasn't told it to constantly pick and the thought of them, the thought that when he turns around they're going to be right there, where they always are. He hates turning around and knowin each time that something inside him expects to find them there. He hates that they're not, and he can't stop doing this.

Eventually that part of him stops believing that they're there, and that's worse.

He knows what it is. It's the wolf that longs for the pack. He even knows that it's an evolutionary trait, that the wolf who preferred to be alone didn't survive very long, didn't reproduce. He knows he's a slave to his biology but it's never seemed like such a betrayal before now. He feels like the wolf wants to take him over and make him mindless.

And only one thing has ever been able to silence this part of him that seems to be growing stronger and larger in his head. It's his friends, but they're not here anymore.

ONE WEEK AGO - THE PACK

They make their way into California slowly, on foot ever since ditching Shelton's stolen car an hour outside the town they ripped apart. They've said all that needs saying, but that doesn't mean they go in silence. Tory only has to whisper flare in their heads in order to bring the wolf out, and then nothing has ever felt so great as running with the pack just for the joy of running. Cooper howls first, but they all join in, voices loud and raucous, with no one around to hear. The howling dissovles into laughter so powerful they have to stop and roll around in the farming fields and release it all.

"This was worth it." Tory says when they're all breathing heavily and just lying in the fallow field. She crooks her head to look at each of them in turn. "This is worth anything."

Hi and Ben and Shelton grin madly, all their eyes golden and glowing. Hi whoops again, throwing both arms in the air. The sky is growing dark, the sun staining one half of it with reds and yellows and pinks. Cooper, laying against Tory's side, barks. He's looking farther into the fields.

Tory raises her head again, following his gaze. Coop's gone deathly quiet.

There's a herd of four deer down there, grazing hungrily. They haven't noticed anything wrong; they're upwind and too far away.

Before Tory knows what she's doing, before she can do more than think, deer, hunger grips tightly in her stomach. She's crouching, then, aware that the others are doing the same behind her. She's moving forward so silently she can't hear her own footsteps. It's like a dream. The smell of the deer infuses the air and makes her stomach ache.

She sees the others, moving faster, spreading out, surrounding them. Cooper creeps along on his belly, tail still and straight behind him.

Ben's focused fully on their prey but Tory catches Hi's eyes. He looks confused, a little scared. Shelton, when she sees him, looks terrified.

Everything happens at once. The deer freeze and look around, Cooper sails through the air in a standing leap and lands on the buck's back, Tory finds herself rushing in for the kill and Shelton makes a coughing, choking noise, like he's trying to scream without any air in his lungs. The deer bolt. Cooper's deer falters, legs buckling, but straightens up and shakes him off. Ben's arms close in a vice grip around its neck. Cooper's jaws latch onto its hind leg. Tory bowls into its shoulder and brings them all down. Hi presses both hands to its flank, holding it down.

Shelton's kneeling there, watching them with wide, horrified eyes.

Slowly Tory pulls herself away from the buck. She feels more than sees the others do the same. In moments it thrashes Cooper off its leg and is up and bounding away. Probably unable to believe its luck. Tory watches it go with a sense of something rising within her. Part of her wants to give chase - the chase is such fun - but she knows her pack needs her more right here.

For a long moment no one speaks. None of them can remember how to.

"What was that?" Hi asks hoarsely.

"We were hungry." Tory says, surprised to find her own voice rough. "They were food. Come on, we need to get to - " here she has to pause and consider her next word, because the idea behind it doesn't compute for a moment. Shelter of many not-prey who are not-pack who are good who have food who have shelter. So much of the idea contradicts itself. "We have to get to... town... before dark."

What's happening to us? Tory thinks. Are we even human anymore?

NOW - DESMOND

Two weeks ago he'd had the thought that Victoria Brennan - Tory, as everyone seemed to know her - would not just vanish. That people like her don't just hide away. But that seems to be what has happened.

He's checked every bus and train going to California in the area, and most of the other ones too, put her and her friends' pictures in every post office across the States, flashed her photo at gas stations, had public radio stations talking about her. Nothing.

All he can do now is wait. He's set all the traps up, and only has to wait for one to be tripped. She doesn't have credit cards to track, she doesn't have relations in California to be staying with - none of them do. He wonders why they've picked California, but it's a dead end. Like they threw a dart at a map and this is where it landed.

He picks the phone up on the first ring, barks out "Ratheson."

"Des, got something interesting. About a week ago a farmer called the cops on some kids messing around in his fields, making noise. Four of them and a dog. Cop showed up, kids were gone. Farmer said they took off on foot toward town."

Desmond grabbs his coat, phone caught between his shoulder and ear as he puts it on. "Why the hell am I only hearing about this now?" He asks, irritated.

"Nobody really thought it was anything special. Just some kids and a dog. We got the report because of that filter I put on the system. It's a small town, probably the report got delayed by the servers."

"A week old trail isn't going to get us very far." Desmond growls and closes the phone. He looks out the window, flicking the collar up on the coat.

"They won't be camping out in this weather, at least," he mutters, looking at the pouring rain.

TWO HOURS AGO - TORY

She closes the door behind Cooper softly, not wanting to wake her pack or any of the building's other tennants. They're squatting in an older apartment building, in Greenview, California. So far it seems like no one's noticed the new neighbors who don't pay rent.

Their food money is dangerously close to running out, but Tory can't think of what to do about that. All of her best ideas involve felonies, and they're trying to lay low. In four years she'll be eighteen, and by then everyone else will be too. Then they'll be safe. Until then they can't attract attention. It'll be hard, but as long as they're together she thinks it'll be worth it.

She only has to remember the crushing depression of being alone to know that they're doing the right thing.

Tory's feet take her to the end of the next street over, where she turns right. She stops and waits for Cooper, who has decided that the side of this brick building is a perfect spot to relieve himself. They don't get more than six more steps before he squats again. Eventually she just keeps walking, trusting him to catch up. It takes three more blocks in a roughly circular direction to realize that he's marking the boundaries of their territory. And that she's the one setting them.

They complete the borders around a two-block radius centered on the apartment, and Cooper happily follows her home. Tory wonders if she should feel disturbed by this, but isn't it just a walk? It's not like she was the one peeing on everything - that was Coop. He's the wolfdog. She's human.

But how much? How much is still human? And are they still changing?

Tory notices the darkening sky just as she's turning the knob on the outer door. The sky rumbles with far away thunder. The clouds look as dark as a night without stars. It's going to rain hard.