Page 56 of Shifting Years
"I didn't know I could until now."
He paused, taking in the words.
"Okay fine. So, change back, and let's get the hell out of here. We'll argue later."
I let out a breath—half admiration, half relief. If he thought of a tactical advantage, then he didn't see another enemy. We had enough waiting outside.
A memory flickered with a short man and books on animal spirits. I reached for it. Pulled. Red fur grew over my arms, bones twisted, then snapped back like a rubber band. Pain seared through me, and I collapsed, retching up tiger flesh.
"Doesn't look like it," I said after heaving.
"Damnit." He chatted like I was, well, human but kept the knife pointed at me.
"I'm not going to do anything to you,butI don't know what's going on." I shrugged and continued. "This might be a dying dream. Maybe that SOB in the dirt finally offed me."
"Thanks, man. That's a nice thought. I'm not even real."
I didn't die, did I? It would make sense.
The smell of sweat and gunmetal grew closer. Instinct took over. Quick gestures ordered Bobby face-down on the ground near the grunt he killed. My new strength lifted me over the door.Hope bamboo can support my weight.
After a few tentative shouts in Vietnamese, they came in. They were soldiers and pointed guns at Bobby while they shouted at their dead commander, now nothing more than bones and meat. I dropped and punched one in the throat, doing more damage than I expected. Bobby lurched forward and stabbed the other in the stomach.
This was the moment we waited for, and after years, it was here. Bobby must have thought the same thing since he no longer aimed the knife at me.
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's move, soldier. Time to go home."
***
We killed more on the way out thanks to my new abilities and extra strength. I sniffed long and hard between scouting the area ahead. We already discovered a few traps.
"It all happened," said Bobby as he limped through the jungle. "And you didn't know you could do it until an hour ago." He wasn't asking.
Scar tissue along my head gave an explanation. "I don't remember a lot. Wouldn't know my name if it weren't for earlier prisoners telling me."
"Do you remember what you do to humans who discover werewolves?"
An instant headache came. After several seconds of breathing through it, I continued. "I don't kill humans." Bobby's eyebrowsrose. "Those back in the camp were something else. Nobody does that to another man."
He nodded.
"Someone has to know about me," I said. "I have a wife and she's got to have a kid by now. My kid." The words faded out into a mumble.
His eyes flickered to the side while his walk slowed. "Mmmm…"
"What? Ihavea wife."
"Do you?"
"Yeah."
He chuckled to himself. "Bullets, Vietcong, Californian bigots, Alabama sergeants, and awerewolfbut nothing scares me like this."
"Like what?"
He exhaled long. "You don't seem like thewifetype, not that I care, you dig? I know men like you, so it's cool."
Memories of fistfights between two soldiers at Basic came. I wasn't involved, but one made a joke about another man marrying Liberace. Head throbs came of a short guy saying I was different,although he wasn't cruel.
