Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 9

Silas gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to smack his new partner, Cliff, who paced the length of the dimly lit room. Outside, a light mist of rain fell, accompanied by the occasional boom of thunder. Reggie to happen to me.” “Fuckin’ relax already. She’s not goin’ anywhere.” Silas said. He nodded toward the sedated girl chained kneeling to the concrete floor. Cliff gulped, taking a step back from Silas. The girl’s cropped black hair clung to her face. She wore ragged jeans and a tank top that revealed her wiry, muscular body. Silas thought she might be in her late-twenties. Probably military or ex-military, based on the dog tags around her neck. Neither of the men knew her name and they’d avoided any close inspection of her dog tags. It was better that way. Easier. Names just got in the way of what came next. “Yeah. Sorry.” Cliff stopped, and wiped his brow. “I’m just…what if the drugs wear off? I’m going to check the chains again.” “For God’s sake, she isn’t goin’ to change.” “But–” “Christ, how did I get stuck with someone so green?” Silas tilted his head back and ran a hand over his hair. “She’s a wolf-born, moron. Not a werewolf. So calm the fuck down.” “But the drugs–” “Aren’t goin’ to wear off anytime soon.” “You’d better be sure. I don’t want what happened to “Relax, I know what I’m talking about.” Silas grinned and lowered his sunglasses. Two brilliant yellow eyes shone at him through the dusk of the half-lit room. Moments passed in silence. Cliff sputtered and tried to speak, but the ringing of Silas’s cell phone interrupted him. “Hey, boss,” Silas said, answering his phone. He paused. “Yeah, she’s pretty drugged up now, though.” He smirked. “Whatever you say.” He hung up. “What’d he say?” “Boss has her father. If she refuses to talk, he’s as good as dead.” Silas’s ears twitched as a low, guttural sound emanated from inside the