Chapter Text
Max usually woke up before Laura. He would get up, make a pot of coffee, and fiddle around with his phone, waiting until he heard her padded feet make their way to the bathroom before he’d put two bagel halves into the toaster and take the tub of whipped butter out of the fridge.
Laura always had to splash water on her face to wake up, but she would join him after a few minutes, watching him mash avocados to spread across his own bagel, while she poured her coffee into a travel mug. She liked to put lavender flavored soy milk into it, which Max thought tasted awful, and honey. Max drank his with a generous splash of hazelnut creamer.
She looked quite a bit different than when they first met, but Max couldn’t say much. His shorter hair made him look five years younger, somehow. Laura had an undercut now, the fuzz of which Max ran his fingers across daily. She wore her hair in a braid most nights so that it would have a bit of wave the next morning. Somehow, the braid laying against her shoulder looked serene, as did the gold glint of the tiny ring pierced into the side of her nose.
Max would kiss her as she slipped her shoes on to go to work. It’d made her late more than once.
Most mornings were calm, quiet. The two would speak in hushed voices so that they could still hear the sounds of the birds tweeting outside above their voices.
So, one can easily sympathize with Max’s panic when he awoke one morning to Laura screaming, “FUCK!”
His body seemed to jump into action more quickly than his mind could wake up, and he threw himself face-first into the floor after getting tangled in his sheets. He kicked wildly until he finally managed to free his foot, scrambling from a crawl into a sprint out of their bedroom door and into the hall. He could see Laura in the bathroom, curled inward with her hands covering her face.
“What? What is it?” Max asked desperately, looking up and down their hall for a moment.
“Shit!” she groaned. “Max, towel!” One of her hands left her face and groped blindly in Max’s direction. He took one off of the rack next to the shower and practically shoved it in her face. She dropped her other hand and took it from him. Her hair swung back and forth across her shoulders as she aggressively rubbed her face into it. After a moment, she let it drop, looking at Max.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just… Shit. I thought we had a few more hours, at least,” Laura said.
“It’s already setting in?” Max asked. He looked down at his own nails. Everything below the quick was a deep black, and they were a bit longer than they’d been last night. Laura’s nails looked similar to his, but hers were already growing into dull points, bound to become claws by the end of the day.
The redness of Laura’s hands and face were fading, but as Max was looking closely at the rapidly healing scald marks across her face, he noticed a few stray lines of gold in her irises.
“We should—” Max started.
“Get going. Like, right now,” Laura finished.
If you asked their neighbors, Laura and Max seemed like a nice couple. Sure, they kept to themselves most of the time, but almost everyone with a pet in town knew Laura. It was weird how insistent they were on taking their monthly hiking trip, though.
One neighbor would recall that when he told Laura that his cat wasn’t eating anything, Laura had nearly teared up apologizing, saying, “I can’t see him until tomorrow. I’m sorry,” as she and her boyfriend packed three coolers into their trunk. If you’d prodded him about it, he might’ve found it weird that they never really packed any other camping supplies.
One of the kids who lived nearby swore to his friends at school that his neighbors had golden eyes and sharp teeth. Another claimed that he’d heard his weird neighbors howling inside their house, much to his parents’ embarrassment.
Laura and Max had already packed their bags the night before, after hopping between three grocery stores, buying them all out of raw beef. They’d even laid out the clothes they wanted to wear, always their least favorite pieces from their closet, in case they were lost in transformation.
They were dressed in five minutes. They had the meat in the coolers and then in the trunk not ten minutes after that. Just before eight A.M., they were on the road, heading in the now familiar direction of North Kill.
The now abandoned camp was practically made of places for to-be werewolves to trap themselves, preventing harm to woodland creatures or any unfortunate son of a bitch who decided to hunt in the condemned area.
Kaitlyn was sort of like their designated driver, locking them into basements and sheds and treehouses, then coming to release them in the morning. She hadn’t been bit, but she’d said something like, “Well, someone has to herd you idiots.” She’d then made a lassoing motion for a moment, rolling her eyes when no-one laughed. Max didn’t know her well before, but they talked sometimes in the hours before being locked up, and she seemed way too nice for her own good, while also being the snarkiest member of the group, even when they got aggressive pre-transformation.
It was essentially a monthly camp counselor reunion meeting for, what, life? Jesus.
Max had gotten used to it, actually. He’d unfortunately missed a birthday or two over the years, but you’d be surprised at how few people thought it was that weird. His work friends had asked him if it was a weird sex thing, but that was about the worst he got.
It was a six hour drive for the two, but they were always the first on site. It was tradition at this point. Maybe their fatal flaw was that they liked to be early. Chris always left his ring of keys on a picnic table outside of the main office for them, and Kaitlyn would put them under the doormat the following morning.
They didn’t stop for a moment, with Laura twisting through traffic, constantly above the speed limit, so that they would arrive as soon as possible. Max said something about a potential encounter with the cops slowing them down, and Laura—well, she growled.
“Don’t growl at me,” Max said with a playful lilt to his voice.
“Sorry,” Laura muttered.
“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” Max said. “We’ve never transformed in the daytime. C’mon, it’ll be nice to see everybody.”
Laura’s shoulders dropped a bit, and she relaxed into her seat. She sighed, but didn’t say anything. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she spoke up.
“Put on one of my playlists,” she said, gesturing to the phone where it perched on its stand. “The Shinedown one.”
“ No, ” Max said. “Please, anything but.”
Laura rolled her eyes.
“Fine, put on the… Fuck, who were those dudes we both liked?”
“Imagine Dragons?”
“Yeah!”
“I wouldn’t say I like Imagine Dragons,” Max said. “I mean, when I was, like, twelve.”
“Why’d you show me that music video then?” Laura asked.
“It was from a show… Never mind, I’ll put your Shinedown playlist on,” Max said with a dramatic sigh.
The last two hours of the drive were long, all thanks to Brent Smith. Usually, he could convince Laura to listen to something calming to slow their anxious hearts in preparation for the night ahead, but Laura was extra wound up today, smiling to herself and checking the sharpness of her teeth in the rearview mirror.
When they arrived, they started unloading the coolers and carrying them over to the grill.
“Where do you wanna camp out tonight?” Max asked.
“The island,” Laura said.
“We always go there.”
“So? It’s romantic,” Laura said with a smile. “A whole island to ourselves.”
“It’s a bit of a hike,” Max complained.
“Gotta convince our parents that we’re actually going hiking, coming home for Christmas with buff legs,” Laura said, slapping the front of his thigh. “Put some meat on those bones.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” Max said with a smile.
“Watch it,” Laura gave him a faux death stare before breaking it with a grin.
“We might as well take our bags to the docks then,” Max said.
“Sure,” Laura said as she dropped the final cooler next to the grill.
Everyone’s supply bags for their post-transformation selves were packed differently. A constant between all of the former counselor’s bags was a new change of clothes, but besides that, the contents varied greatly. Max and Laura’s included baby wipes for washing at least their faces after waking up covered in blood, which were especially helpful when Kaitlyn was taking a while to reach them and escort them back to the shower room near the cabins so that they could shower themselves with cold water bottles. Additionally, it had a portable charger, also for when Kaitlyn was taking a while.
“It’s your own damn fault for stranding yourselves on an island instead of the basement like the rest of ‘em,” she would say every time they complained.
Too nice for her own good.
Cicadas’ buzzing echoed throughout the forest trails like white-noise, and Max felt his ears twitching. If he hadn’t been holding his bag, he might’ve covered them. That all-too-familiar agitation crept into his nerves, making his fingers and eyelids start twitching as well.
“Bad fuckin’ night to have canine hearing,” Laura said. Max looked to see her brow furrowed and her mouth in a deep frown.
“I’ll say,” Max said.
He heard a thump that he intuitively knew was a rabbit landing. His head turned involuntarily towards the noise. He shook himself out of it in time to look back and see Laura sniffing the air. He couldn’t control his laughter.
“What?” Laura asked.
“You were smelling for it,” Max said with a laugh. “Genuine, nose-up-in-the-air sniffing.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yah-uh,” Max parroted. He mimicked her, sticking his nose in the air and making exaggerated sounds like a dog.
“Enough,” Laura said with a smile. “Wait until I catch you chasing your tail.”
Max spun in circles with his head cocked to the side, looking down his back.
“Stop it, or I’ll take pictures,” Laura jokingly warned, reaching into her pocket for her phone. That stopped Max in his tracks. She didn’t need more embarrassing videos of him on her phone.
They placed their bags near the canoe parked on the pier, looking out into the lake. Max wished he and Laura could jump in, make some memories, but experience told him that they were far too close to transforming for water to be any good for them.
The sun was still high in the sky, but it was covered by a cloud, the shadow of which covered both the pier and the island, mimicking what it would look like at night, with its dark trees like inkblots.
Laura took Max’s hand, and he could feel her sharpening nails painlessly pressed against his fingers.
“We should carve our names into a tree over there,” Laura said.
“Don’t you think we’re a little old for that?” Max said.
“It’s our island now,” Laura said. “I mean, it’s not like anybody’s going to see it to care.”
“True,” he said. “Sure, hun.”
“It’s a date,” she said, tugging his shoulder to make him face her. “Kiss me, loverboy.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to press their lips together. She gripped the back of his neck, with her claws pressing into the side of it. Her other hand roamed his side, causing him to giggle into her mouth when she hit a ticklish point. Laura sucked on his lip, which, for a second, was hot and then immediately painful as her sharpened teeth scraped across his sensitive lip.
“Shit!” he exclaimed as he jumped back a little bit. Laura’s grip on him tightened as he almost tipped into the water.
“I’m sorry!” she said.
“Nah, it’s—” Max said as he dabbed at his lip with his sleeve, “—I’m fine. Promise.”
“Geez, I…” Laura started. “I feel awful. I’m sorry.”
“I promise it's not a big deal,” Max said. “Here, kiss it better.”
Max had been joking, and he flinched again when Laura, to her credit, kissed him as gently as she could manage. Laura looked remorseful again.
“Let’s get back to the campgrounds,” he said, trying to distract her. “The others will be here soon.”
“Sure,” she said, untangling herself from him.
Just as they arrived at the front office, they saw a car pulling in.
Dylan popped his head out of the car as soon as it was parked, seeing Laura and Max walk up the trail.
“Max, my man!” Dylan said as he approached them. His hand clapped Max’s as they pulled each other into what Laura called their ‘stupid gay bro hug.’ “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Max said.
“Hey, Laura,” he turned to hug her, which she accepted.
“When’s everybody else getting here?” Laura asked as she pulled away.
“Dunno,” Dylan said. “Oh, wait.” All three of their heads shot in the direction of the main road, able to hear the engine’s rumble from a half-mile away.
“I think it’s Jacob,” Max said.
“Is that what his car sounds like?” Dylan asked. “I thought it was Abi.”
“Let’s bet on it,” Laura said. “Everyone put five in.”
“Who do you think it is?” Max asked.
“Emma,” Laura said. “But I don’t think it’s her. I know.”
“Hell yeah, I’m in,” Dylan said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Laura and Max did the same, placing fifteen dollars onto a nearby picnic table, held in place by a rock.
They were all silent for the three or so minutes that the car slowly approached, carefully driving far below the speed limit through the windy backroads.
Max knew he was screwed. Jacob was an awful driver. Thinking about it, Dylan was in the same predicament. Abigail was a worse driver. They looked at each other knowingly, already kissing their Lincolns goodbye.
Emma’s little red Corolla scuttled into view, and Laura pumped her fists.
When Emma stepped out of her car, Laura was approaching, saying, “You just won me a bet!”
“Up top!” Emma replied, giving her a high-five. “You better split it with me.”
“No way,” Laura said with a laugh. “I earned that fifteen dollars.”
“You really only won ten,” Dylan said, approaching with Max in tow.
“You’re just pouting,” Laura said. “Sore loser.”
“Emma, why’d you have to be a safe driver?” Dylan groaned.
“I just like ruining your day,” Emma said with a roll of the eyes. “What’s up, Max?”
“Not much,” Max said. “Saw your new video.”
It was a video of her reading hate comments and reacting to them, which came off to Max as fuel for the fire, but hey, he wasn’t an influencer. What did he know?
“Can you believe the nerve of some people?” she asked.
“It sounds like being an influencer kinda sucks,” Max said.
“It does sometimes,” Emma admitted. “But it’s my passion.”
Her videos had really taken off when she posted the vlogs she made the night of the attacks, being circulated through the news and social media as some of the only recordings taken that mysterious night. She was the only one of the group who had any interest in being interviewed for the news, so her well-constructed story about bear attacks and malicious hunters existed as the only public account of the North Kill attacks. To the police, it remained a twisted web of contradictory stories and frankly unexplainable evidence.
“Dylan, where’s the music?” Emma asked.
“Yes’sir,” Dylan said with a salute. He pulled his gigantic bluetooth boombox out of his car, another tradition. The electricity hadn’t been on for years to power the radio shack, so he kept the chunky speaker in his trunk for their monthly getaways. An electronic dance beat blasted out of it, scaring away the birds from nearby trees. Max couldn’t help but tap his foot. Dylan was shaking his hips with his hands over his head, waving his friends over to come dance with him. Laura joined him, attempting a moonwalk and failing. She settled on mimicking Dylan, fists in the air, clapping along to the beat.
“I’ve gotta film this,” Emma said from Max’s side. “It’s going on my story.”
Dylan craned his head around Laura’s still dancing form with a terrified look on his face.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he said, approaching her and reaching for her phone. “I’m taller than you,” he said when she tried to hold it above her head.
“And I can kick you in the balls,” she reminded him. Dylan gave up, throwing his hands in the air. “Thank you,” she said with an exasperated smile.
“You should get into dance beats,” Dylan said to Max. “Changed my life.” He was facing Max, backing onto the ‘dance floor’ with Laura, who was now trying to do the Just Dance Rasputin squat jumps. They saw Emma hold up her phone again.
“This sounds straight outta the eighties,” Max said.
“It’s awesome, right?” Dylan said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Max said.
“Can’t hear you,” Dylan said. “Your girlfriend’s sick dance moves are too loud.”
Laura stuck her foot into the air like a ballerina, letting Dylan dip her.
“C’mon, Max,” Laura said. She knew he wasn’t a good dancer, only moving his entire body to a beat during slow dances in their living room, looking lovingly into each others’ eyes.
“No,” he said with a laugh.
“Emma?” she asked.
“I’m having too much fun filming it,” she said.
“Perv,” Dylan joked.
“ Oh , yeah,” Emma said. “This is absolutely what does it for m—”
She cut herself off, head snapping towards the main road.
“Eugh, Jacob. I can smell him from here,” she said. “Alright, I’m gonna go put my shit in the basement.” She returned to her car, pulling out a camo printed backpack with a canned iced coffee in the side pocket.
Max didn’t have anything against Jacob, since he and Laura’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he felt the tension between the man and the rest of the group. Some people still blamed him, with Emma at the head of the “Make Jacob Go Somewhere Else” committee. Max couldn’t quite say “poor guy,” but…well, he seemed remorseful.
Dylan and Laura stopped dancing, and Dylan turned the music down a bit. The three went to go meet Jacob at his car.
“Hey!” Jacob said as he popped his head out of the car. “How’s everybody?”
“Doing well,” Dylan said, a little coldly, slapping Jacob on the back. “How’s the missus?”
“Same as ever,” Jacob said. “Pissed that I ‘still’ hang out with my work friends in the woods.”
“You ever gonna tell her?” Laura asked.
Jacob rolled his eyes.
“Have any of you tried to explain it?” he asked.
“Abi told her girlfriend,” Dylan pointed out.
“Yeah, but Abi’s girl is, like, a witch,” Jacob said. “She already believed in the shit.”
“Fair enough,” Dylan said.
“Also, what the hell is playing?” Jacob asked.
“Um, my sweet late-spring-early-summer jams,” Dylan said.
Jacob snarled to himself before shaking his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s been…worse today.” He held up his claws and bared his sharpened teeth.
“Me too,” Laura said quickly.
“I’ll turn it down,” Dylan offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket to lower the volume remotely.
“Nah, it’s all good, man,” Jacob said. “It’s all me. I’m going to head down to the pier.”
“See you,” Max said. Jacob clapped his shoulder as he passed.
As soon as he was out of sight, the group’s attention was brought to another car pulling up. Kaitlyn’s blue Elantra parked near them, and the three approached to pet Kaitlyn’s dog Roxanne, who was sticking her head out the window.
Kaitlyn had adopted the freckled pointer mix only a few weeks into their monthly tradition, saying that she needed a better pair of ears to keep her safe from her werewolf friends. Roxy had been trained to recognize all of their scents, to the point that Kaitlyn could yell, “Go find [Blank]!” and Roxy would take off down the trail, following the faint scent of whichever friend she was tracking.
Ryan had looked disgusted with himself when Kaitlyn told him one morning that he’d escaped, and that she and Roxy had to find and subdue him before he got too close to the main road, slowing him with bullets until sunrise.
So, Roxy was a valued member of the team, joining them at first as a puppy kept in a carrier for the dangerous night until Kaitlyn completely trained barking out of her. Laura wasn’t a huge fan of that, but recognized the necessity in it.
“Hey, Roxy,” Laura smiled as the silent dog licked her face peeking out the window.
“What, no kisses for me?” Kaitlyn said as she rounded the vehicle.
The sides of her head were shaved now, with a french braid down the back of her head mimicking a mohawk. Her arms were covered in tattoos, mostly black linework of flora snaking up and down her arms like vines.
“Come here then,” Dylan said, making an exaggerated kissing face.
“Ugh, never mind,” she said, sticking out her tongue with a fake gag. “Who’s here already?”
“Emma, Jacob, and us,” Laura said.
“Alright, I’m off to set up the surveillance room,” Kaitlyn said, starting her walk towards the main office. She stopped for a moment. “Dylan, is this Gorillaz?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said with a smile. “New release.”
“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I was alive in the 2010s too.”
“Can I come with?” Dylan asked.
“Sure,” Kaitlyn said, turning her head to watch Dylan follow her. “See you guys in a bit.”
Max and Laura waved goodbye. While he was walking, Dylan was poking his phone, and a moment later, a slow, melodramatic song started playing through the speakers. Dylan winked at them before following Kaitlyn inside.
“No,” Max said, leaning against Jacob’s car and looking at Laura’s expectant look. “I’m not dancing.”
“Sway with me?” she asked, putting a hand on his waist.
“Not in public,” he said.
“ Fine, ” she said, trying her hardest to sound annoyed. The little smile on her face gave away that she wasn’t really mad.
The piano from the track Dylan had chosen did sound nice, though. It was helped by the bassy feminine vocalist practically moaning over the track. Okay, so, maybe , Max started swaying, but Laura simply moved with him, not acknowledging his change of heart.
The song had come to an abrupt end when Dylan’s phone presumably disconnected from it due to the distance. They didn’t have much time to worry about that, though, because another car was pulling up.
The back of Ryan’s car was covered in fandom stickers, mostly for paranormal podcasts or ghost investigation shows. Max rolled his eyes at a new Shinedown sticker plastered onto his bumper.
Laura was the first over to his car, speaking to him before he even opened his door.
“You better get those steaks going,” she said. “Everyone’s bummed as shit, and I think they’re all hangry.”
“Jesus, let me park before you start ordering me around,” Ryan said in monotone.
They both opened their arms for a hug, and Laura landed firmly onto Ryan’s chest. She patted him on the back.
“How are things?” she asked him as she pulled away.
“Same as last time,” he said.
“Any new campfire stories?” Laura asked. Due to Ryan’s intense love of the supernatural, he eventually ran out of interesting stories or creatures to delve into, and it really seemed to get him down. Laura sent him message threads or videos about odd sightings sometimes, since she followed most of the same fanpages he did, but he had always seen them already.
“Nada,” he said. “Bizarre Yet Bonafide is still obsessed with this place.”
“They’re still going?” Max asked.
“It’s been years. When are they going to move on?” Laura said.
Kaitlyn had a protocol for scaring off stupid paranormal hunters who sometimes showed up on full moons. This protocol consisted of one course of action: fire into the sky until they got scared they were being shot at, to which they usually left. Once, though, Kaitlyn sicked Roxy on a guy, screaming, “These are my woods, motherfucker!” and purposefully misfiring into trees near the guy. She’d never failed to scare off ghost hunters and locals before they stepped within a quarter-mile of the perimeter of the camp. The remote trail cams she’d set up after the originals puttered out let her survey the grounds from her laptop, stowed up in the surveillance room with an old oil lamp lighting the desk.
“You got the meat?” Ryan asked.
“You know it,” Laura said with a wink, causing Ryan to roll his eyes. Max’s eyes caught the tattoo on Ryan’s calf, a fine-lined full moon, complete with craters and texture. Laura had suggested that the entire group get matching tattoos, but Ryan was the only one who took to it. Laura’s twin tattoo was on the curve of her shoulder joint, currently hidden by her short sleeves. Max’d been considering adding a triplet, but he’d never gotten a tattoo, and needles weren’t his best friend.
“Hey, Max,” Ryan said. Max patted him awkwardly on the shoulder in place of a hug. Max really liked Ryan, but they’d always had a relationship that was just slightly out of tune, speaking over each other constantly or ending conversations by sitting in awkward silence around each other. He loved seeing Laura so happy when he arrived every month, no doubt.
Max and Ryan were usually the ones running the grill. Well, more accurately, Ryan ran the grill, and Max helped him transfer the nearly raw steaks onto plastic plates to pass around to the group. Ryan was one of those people who hated others in their kitchen, so Max didn’t step on his toes. It was good to catch up with him during that time.
“I’ll start rounding people up,” Laura said as the men approached the grill. “Have fun.”
Most of the meat in the coolers Laura and Max had brought would stay raw, piled into the rooms the former counselors were locked into. It kept them as werewolves occupied, therefore less likely to try and break out. They all arrived around in the afternoon for an early dinner, however, to sit as a group and chow down. Kaitlyn had left a Walmart bag with pre-made stuffed mushrooms for Ryan to throw on the grill for her. She always brought something of her own, absolutely sick of dark pink steak after only two visits.
Ryan fired it up, twisting the burner control knob slowly. They usually talked while the grill preheated.
“What’s up with you?” Ryan asked.
“Not much. I’m offa’ T,'' Max said.
“Oh, yeah?” Ryan said.
“Yeah, the whole curse thing gives me enough hair already,” Max said. “Especially around our…time of the month.” As he said that, he spotted Ryan’s five o’clock shadow.
“I bet Laura hates it,” Ryan said.
“She finally got an appointment scheduled for stronger testosterone blockers,” Max said.
“Good to hear.”
At that moment, two cars pulled up, one behind the other. One was driven by Abigail’s girlfriend, who kissed her goodbye, leaning across the armrest. The one behind it was Nick, who parked and waited in his car, looking towards the group through his window.
Once Abigail’s girlfriend was gone and she approached the group, Nick exited his car, backpack hanging from his shoulders.
“So, how’re you guys?” Abigail asked as she reached the grill. Her hair was a blinding, nearly-neon blue.
“Doing well,” Ryan said.
“I like the hair,” Max said.
“Thanks. I thought I’d change it up,” she said. “Where’s everybody?”
“Off sulking,” Ryan said.
“Where’s Emma?” Abi asked.
“In the basement,” Ryan answered.
“Did you see her new video?” Abi asked.
“She’s gotta stop replying to comments,” Max said.
“I agree,” Abi said. “Maybe I could talk to her about it. Do you think now’s a good time?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Max said with a shrug.
“Yeah,” Abi said. “Alright, I’m off.”
Nick trailed behind until Abi split off towards the basement.
“Hey,” he said.
“How’re you?” Ryan asked.
“Pretty good,” Nick answered. “Where’d Jacob run off to?”
“The docks,” Max said.
“Cool,” Nick said. “I’m gonna go catch up with him.”
“Sounds good,” Max said as he gave him a thumbs up. He was out of sight when Dylan and Kaitlyn emerged from the office behind Laura.
Max didn’t know Nick or Abi all that well, since they mostly hung out with Jacob and Emma respectively. Nick was a really quiet guy, but with how awkwardly the other counselors acted around him, he suspected that wasn’t always his disposition.
The grill was done preheating, and Max helped Ryan transfer a few steaks onto it when Dylan approached.
“Hey, Max, Laura needs you,” Dylan said.
“Oh, gotcha,” Max said. “Thanks.”
“No prob’,” Dylan said and patted Max on the shoulder as he passed.
Max approached Laura, who was talking to Kaitlyn a few yards away.
“Hey, babe, what’d you need?” Max asked.
“Huh?” Laura asked.
“Dylan said you needed me,” Max said.
Oh.
Sneaky.
Kaitlyn peeked around Max’s shoulder to watch Dylan and Ryan at the grill, chatting. She had a huge grin across her face.
“What’re they saying?” Kaitlyn asked Max and Laura.
Dylan heard that, though, immediately pulling out his phone to drown their conversations in music.
“No fair,” Kaitlyn complained. “Damn, that’s loud.”
“No kidding,” Max and Laura said in unison.
“Owe me a coke,” Max said quickly. Laura dramatically slapped her knee and said, “Aw, darn!”
The three were silent for a moment.
“But seriously, are they going to just flirt for the rest of their lives?” Laura asked.
“They’re probably just too embarrassed to tell us,” Kaitlyn said. “Okay, I’m gonna break it up.”
Kaitlyn blew a dog whistle hanging from her neck, calling in the rest of the group from the surrounding area.
“Dylan!” she screamed over the music. “Turn! It! Down!”
Dylan complied, but gave the group a dirty look, trying to scare them away from listening in. Soon, he was helping Ryan transfer the steaks and mushrooms to plates, and the missing members started to come into view. Dylan and Ryan spread the plates and silverware (only in name; the utensils were made of stainless steel) across two picnic tables, taking their seats at the table with five plates.
“Alright, everybody bow their heads,” Jacob said with a joking smile as he approached. “Let’s say grace.”
A few of the former counselors (Max, Nick, Dylan, and Abi) bowed their heads with Jacob, then threw them up to howl at the sky at different pitches. All that participated laughed, and Jacob and Nick high-fived. The two started jokingly barking and shoving at each other.
Kaitlyn was unamused when she, Laura, and Max sat down at the other, empty table. She was looking at Max with an exasperated look.
“You’re an adult man,” she said, shaking her head.
“So are they,” Max pointed out.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re all stupid,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder at Abi, who was approaching. “Except you, Abi.”
“Thanks,” she said with a laugh. “Max, do any of those coolers have drinks?”
“That’s Jacob’s job,” Max said.
“Jacob!” Kaitlyn called. “Where’re the beers?”
“On it!” he yelled back, starting towards his car. He returned a minute later with a rolling cooler, filled to the brim with some kind of craft beer he had stock in. He hadn’t yet convinced any of the others to incorporate the brand into their drinking at home. They weren't awful, in Max’s opinion, but he was a firm believer in the idea that three Mike’s Hards were more powerful than any psychedelic on the planet.
Dylan had resumed the music once he sat down, choosing a pop chart topper. Abi joined Kaitlyn, Max, and Laura, popping open her beer with the bottle opener on her chunky ring of keys.
“How’s Jasmin?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Good,” Abi said. “She’s starting grad school next year.”
“How’s that out-patient place?” Max asked.
“ Really good,” Abi said. “Seriously, I’ve got to remember to make copies of my DBT workbook to give to you guys.”
Abi was perhaps the smartest of them for keeping up with her mental health so vigilantly after the attacks. She was currently in nine hours of group therapy a week, learning self-soothing skills. Max wouldn’t mind a few copies of her workbook, that’s for sure.
Everyone was digging in, some more ravenously than others. Even the more composed members, like Emma, were eating as if it was their first meal in weeks, scarfing down the red meat without tasting it. Max was always embarrassed by how he involuntarily leaned over his plate, tearing chunks off with his sharpened teeth when his knife didn’t cut through the steak quickly enough. The sight no longer concerned Kaitlyn though, and she quietly munched on her stuffed mushrooms, looking between her friends with no judgment.
He didn’t stop eating until he finished, cracking open his beer after the fact. The others finished theirs as well, finally making conversation.
“Laura,” Kaitlyn said. “Roxanne’s normal food isn’t in my grocery store anymore. Any brands you like?”
Laura suggested a brand for big dogs, one with plenty of nutrients for her active lifestyle. Roxy had heard her name and started trotting over from where she was sniffing through the shrubbery nearby.
“Hey, girl,” Abi said, smiling. Roxy approached her and plopped down into a sit, begging. “I don’t have anything for you,” she said, holding up her empty plate, clean of even the juice that leaked out of the steak.
“Roxy, come,” Kaitlyn said in a firm voice. Roxy stood next to Kaitlyn with a straightened tail and ears. “Shake.” Roxy held out her paw, and Kaitlyn shook it. “Good girl,” she said as she tore off a piece of her stuffed mushroom and handed it to her.
“Does that work on us?” Abi asked.
“I wish,” Kaitlyn said with a sigh.
Dylan was up dancing again, and Jacob joined him this time, jumping around and pumping his fists in the air. At least he liked this song. They both waved people in as they passed to reach the beer cooler, failing nearly every time. Kaitlyn at least stuck around, shaking her hips a tiny bit and tapping her finger on the beer bottle in her hand. Laura was up again without having to be asked, making Jacob watch her successful squat jump, which he whooped to.
“Fuck it up!” Kaitlyn cheered.
Max was coming on with post-Thanksgiving-nap syndrome, leaning his head on his hand as he sipped his beer and watched them dance. The air smelled like cherries even as Abi attempted to exhale her vape in the opposite direction of Max.
A cloud passed overhead and everyone froze, temporarily worried that they’d lost track of time, that the sun was already setting. When it passed, the sky was an orange hue, like a warning sign.
Dylan turned down the music and everyone scuttled back to the picnic table. Kaitlyn clapped her hands.
“Who’s going first?” she asked.
Max raised his hand, and Laura joined him.
“Alright,” she said. “Where’re your bags?”
“Already at the docks,” Laura said.
“Alright, Hacketters,” she said. “Let me grab my gun.” She called Roxy to her side, where she would likely stay for the rest of the night. Laura placed a dozen steaks into several zip-lock bags to carry to the island.
The trail to the docks was becoming overgrown due to the reduced foot traffic, forcing the three to watch their steps so as not to trip over a vine or fallen log. It was a little depressing, in Max’s opinion.
Max and Laura were always the ones who rowed when they could, giving Kaitlyn a bit of a break. They’d theorized alone that Kaitlyn was glad that Max and Laura were the only ones who liked to stow away on the island, just because she wouldn’t have to make four or five trips back and forth across the lake to pick up and drop off former counselors.
“See you in the morning!” Kaitlyn said with a wave, still in the canoe. Laura and Max waved back.
Sometimes they stowed out in the treehouse, but with the extra time they’d been afforded, they decided to walk the perimeter of the island, throwing steaks into the woods for their werewolf selves to hunt down, making a game for themselves. There was really no reason to, since they couldn’t escape the island, but hey, it was a bit like a supernatural date for them, like going out to dinner.
They couldn’t see the moon through the thick of the trees, but as their canine eyes adjusted to the dark, they felt the familiar pain shocking their nerves, pushing outwards as their skin stretched to accommodate the creature hiding underneath. This was always the worst, most painful part. Everytime it was surprising, though, since their hazy memories during their transformations numbed the pain from their memory.
Max threw himself backwards into a bush as the tears spread to his face, clutching it. There was a scream that morphed into a howl, and Laura’s werewolf form was leaning over him, sniffing him.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
Then, everything went black.