Somewhere in the clinic a bell chimed - soft not harsh - if the place hadn't been as silent as the proverbial tomb, we wouldn't have heard it.
Outside, the wolves cocked their heads then got to their feet and advanced. A chill wind seemed to swirl through the hall, though not a window, not a door, was open.
The way the animals moved--in tandem, exactly the same--freaked me out. They resembled computerized wolves on a movie screen, one wolf cloned over and over. If it weren't for their physical differences - brown, black, ash, white, auburn fur - I would think they were clones, which would be another problem entirely.
As the wolves neared the clinic, Will tensed.
"They can't get in," I said. "No thumbs. "
Doors were a problem for the quadrupedal. Thank God.
"I doubt that's going to be an issue much longer. "
The outlines of the beasts shimmered in the half-light, becoming indistinct, then solidifying again. Each time they reshaped a little differently. Within minutes the back door opened and dozens of people filed inside.
Stark naked, but they didn't seem to mind, probably because they didn't seem to know. They moved with a shuffling, zombie-like gait, and as they did they repeated the word "boxenwolf" like a litany.
I lifted my gun; Will shoved it back down. "You can't.
"You saw them shift. They're werewolves. "
"Are they?"
Before I could stop him - he'd always been quicker than spit - Will snatched my knife and laid the flat of the blade against the nearest person's arm. I winced, expecting smoke, flames, screaming agony - the usual response when silver touched a werewolf in any form--but nothing happened.
Will flipped the knife end over end, catching it nimbly by the blade and handing it back to me with a quirk of his brow that very clearly mimed, Told you so.
Lucky for him, he didn't say it.
"Hey!" I set the heel of my hand against the nearest naked chest--a middle-aged guy with an impressive spare tire. "What's your name?"
"Boxenwolf," he replied, and took another step.
"Hold on a second. " I kept my hand right where it was,
The man didn't even glance my way before he shoved my chest so hard I flew several feet and crashed into the nearest wall.
"Damn. " I shook my head, freezing mid-shake when pain rocketed through my eye sockets and settled in my back teeth. Every time that happened, it hurt.
"You okay?" Will stood over me, concern in his eyes. But he knew better than to fuss. Or help me up after I'd been knocked down. That only made me feel more of an idiot.
"No. " I clambered to my feet, rubbing at the sore spot on my chest. "That's gonna leave a mark. "
"It always does. " Will turned his attention to the shuffling, mumbling mass of patients. "Strength like that isn't quite human. "
"Ya think?" I muttered. "So what are they?"
"Boxenwolves. "
I sighed. He was right, but-- "What's a boxenwolf?"
Will shrugged.
The residents separated, heading into the empty rooms. I strode to a doorway and watched as an elderly woman methodically put on her patient gown and climbed into bed. Closing her eyes, she appeared to sleep. Will peered into the next empty room.
"Asleep?" I asked. He nodded.
I moved to the bedside and tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Ma'am?"