There was only a single line on the first page of the notebook. Despite sitting in front of it for the entire morning and feeling like he had volumes trapped inside of his head, R.J. had only managed to mar the blank page with an accidental swoop from his blue ballpoint.

The large chamber was quiet except for the scuffing of hard claws on concrete. They paced back and forth like an ominous soundtrack to his thoughts. The dark and ancient forest looming just beyond the glass wall was of little distraction. Except for a faint breeze stirring the leaves now and then, it was static like a picture in a book of fairy tales.

Just before dawn, Mila had come to get him. He had been trying to sleep in one of the many nap room provided for workers doing overtime in this remote complex. He lay in a closet sized apartment. It wasn't even as wide as he was tall, so he had to keep his legs bent in the bed. The room's twelve foot ceilings gave it the feel of an elevator shaft.

Mila had shaken his shoulder to wake him, just as she used to in the old days when he forgot to set an alarm. "Come with me," she said when his eyes opened.

He threw on his clothes and headed out with her into the deserted hall, lit only by the dim security lights.

"Where are we going?"

"You wanted to know why I brought you here. I'm taking you to your answer," she said leading him down the corridor.

"Don't be cryptic, Mila."

She laughed in that same carefree way she did when they were first dating. It felt like it had been a millennium since he had last heard it.

"Isn't that our field? Cryptozoology?"

R.J.'s initial passion had been dampened by suspicion. She was up to something—something a lot bigger than kidnapping him. And along with the paranoia, the old resentments seeped back in through every crack. "Maybe you're a cryptozoologist but I'm just a biologist these days."

"God, are you still mad about that. We could have both gotten through that discipline hearing if we kept a united front. You're the one who confessed and took the blame. I told you to stick to the story."

"Yes, you told me." His limbs felt heavy. He didn't have the strength to fight. He barely had enough to keep moving forward. Mila seemed to sap the vitality out of him.

"Come on. It'll be easier to understand if you see it."

"Is this why you abducted me, because you wanted to show me something?"

"Abducted is a pretty strong word. Don't you think? I needed to employ unorthodox methods to get you here, since you were a kidnapper and a fugitive."

"About that...I didn't kidnap that girl. It wasn't what the news was saying."

"Oh don't explain." Mila waved it off. "I don't believe the high and might Reginald Blass stole somebody's teenage daughter to get his kicks. I know you too well for that. And I'm aware of the DTAA. You know, I was actually happy when you went to work for them. Got you out of that godawful canned tuna factory."

"That wasn't what it was."

"Whatever. The point is you were wasting your talents there. I don't know what the DTAA had you working on but they've always got something juicy on the go, don't they?" Mila waited with her head tilted like he should spill the whole story but when he kept silent she started moving again and said, "You'll tell me eventually. But anyway, it felt like an improvement. I should have known you would do something to piss them off. When I heard your name on the news, I could tell it was one of their frame-ups. I had men in Galveston ready to pull you out but they got spooked when the government forces surrounded the place, so I had to wait until Mexico. I had a hunch you'd aim for Campeche. We had such a great time there in '04." Then, as though it was an afterthought, she added, "Sorry to take you away from your little love nest. Don't worry, she'll get over it."

R.J. almost wrote down in the notebook, considering the distance she kept between us, Mila is unexpectedly jealous. But that was part of his story and that wasn't the one he needed to record.

They headed back to her laboratory. It seemed even larger and lonelier than it had in daylight. She led him behind a bank of servers, where a set of stairs was blocked from view and headed down. The chamber underneath was circular. Three quarters of the wall was concrete and the remainder was floor to ceiling glass. Below the windows was a dark pit in the shape of an ellipse. A light illuminated a table on the other side of the room as though it were a prized museum display. The teenage boy seated at it looked up when he heard them coming.

Mila said something to the boy. With his rudimentary German, R.J. understood the statement as: this is the man I have told you about. He has come liked I promised. Or something close to that.

The boy stood up and crossed over to meet them. It was hard to guess his exact age. He was short but his body was broad and muscular. He had black hair, almost blue like the wings of a raven. His eyes were just as dark. The pigments of the irises so deep brown they were almost indistinguishable from the pupil.

"This is Dietrich," Mila said. "He is my pride and joy."

"Good to meet you," Dietrich said in lightly accented English. "Mother has told me much about you, Dr. Blass."

Even though he knew it was impossible, R.J. did the math. Fifteen—sixteen years ago they were newlyweds. He would have noticed had she given birth.

"Oh my dear, he's shocked you, Reggie. I am his adopted mother." She put her hand on R.J.'s arm as though adding the word silly.

Now, sitting at the same table where he had found the boy, R.J. scanned the stacks of books. Their German titles all referred to university level science. Dietrich's advanced knowledge of biology, anatomy, and chemistry as well as his linguistic abilities (partial or full fluency in six languages including Latin) made R.J. feel like he had failed Amy. Instead of letting her read Fantasy novels and teenage romances, he could have been preparing her for the world. But he never believed she'd see the world. And by the time he brought her out into it, it was too late.

Talking with Dietrich, R.J. found a polite, well-spoken young man. Even though he found his appearance a little unnerving, the boy was the type R.J., would have been happy to hire on as an intern. Or if he had a daughter, the type he'd be glad to see her date.

After about ten minutes, Mila ended their chat. "Almost time, schatz." She tapped her wrist where a watch might have been. "Don't worry you too can talk some more tonight with your new friend."

"Until tonight, sir." He gave a slight bow, kissed Mila on the cheek and strode over to the pit.

A switch turned on lights around the upper perimeter of the hole. There was one every three feet behind thick Plexiglas. Dietrich opened a gate and began descending, twenty feet down into the abyss.

"What's...?"

Mila didn't let R.J. finish. She shushed him and guided him over to the guardrail. "The sky is lightening. It is almost time. Watch."

Dietrich reached the bottom and the staircase retracted. Intricate mechanisms folded the steps up and bent the rails back so the entire structure was flush with the wall, but R.J barely noticed. There was a far more interesting transformation taking place below.

The boy slouched as though he had been struck, one shoulder dipping down. Then a spasm threw him forward his arms reached out for the floor as he fell. But in the brief space of time before he landed, his body shimmered. The black hair on his head seemed to explode outward. It was like watching a time-lapse film of ants swarming his skin until not one inch of it could be seen.

In the end a beast was in the pit. A beast not entirely unfamiliar to R.J.

"A lycanthrope," he said with awe. There was another one.

"The Germans call them the Skollen or nachtrasse, the night walkers. When we first found him, he could only become human with the light of the full moon. He has gotten stronger and can now maintain his human self for the duration of the night. Isn't he magnificent?"

Dietrich's claws scraped the concrete floor of his cell as he restlessly walked the length of the ellipse. It was nearly time for his feeding. Soon Mila would come with a bucket of meat for her son. And R.J. still hadn't made a signal note.

He sighed and massaged his hands as though to work out arthritis before picking up the pen. He wrote, "I first met Amy Westgate on May 1st, 2012. At first appearances she was a normal twelve year-old girl. But appearances can be deceiving."

***

Alicia had been driving so long her sweat was beginning to smell like coffee. Her mind felt stretched out and spread thin like the grease on the many take-out wrappers littering the car. They probably should have stopped for the night, but she felt it was important to get to the New Hampshire compound as soon as she could.

They were almost there. They'd actually make it while there was still light in the sky.

Alicia had gotten lucky. Incredibly lucky. Although she felt faithless thinking that luck had anything to do with it. She was operating in different realms now—a mere mortal standing on Mount Olympus.

The Holy Beast sat next to her radiating power as she stared out the passenger window watching the trees flicker by on the side of the road.

Had Alicia not glanced out at the lone figure on the side of the highway, Amy would have flickered passed the same way. But she had gotten lucky and took a second to really see her.

No. She had been fated to find her.

Alicia had slammed on the brakes so hard the semi behind her nearly jackknifed. She swerved and made a rough stop to park on the soft shoulder and got out, running to the girl. Amy wanted nothing to do her. She actually turned and began jogging back the way she came. Alicia had to lunge for her arm, before the girl could open the distance between them. They both ground to a halt.

"Stay away from me," Amy hissed. Her mouth barely opened as though she feared what might come out of it.

"Oh my god, blood." Alicia took in the dried blood on Amy's arms and sprayed across her shirt, while trying to keep hold of her wrist. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Stay away." Amy didn't looked at her as she fought to free herself. Her eyes looked swollen from the sun and the heat.

"I just want to help. Come with me to my car. It has air conditioning."

Amy hesitated and her eyes stopped on Alicia's bare arm. "What's that?" she asked of the tattoo.

"My people call it the sign of the snake." she said nodding to the ink serpent coiled around her arm. "It's a symbol of rebirth."

Then all of Amy's resistance stopped and she took hold of Alicia's arm and pulled it closer, becoming entranced in the tattoo, following the pattern around and around. It seemed to hold some private meaning for her. After that, it was no problem getting her into the car. As she buckled up, Amy spoke as though feeling the need to explain her change of heart.

She said, "I was told in a vision that I could trust you."

They'd been driving ever since.

Alicia turned off onto a private road at a dilapidated sign for the Trail's End Summer Camp. They'd been bouncing down the uneven gravel for about half a mile, when Amy said, "There's somebody there." She pointed into the darkness under the canopy of trees.

Just barely, Alecia saw a man in camo talking into walkie-talkie. If she didn't know where to look she would have passed him by totally oblivious to his presence.

Amy seemed to have a nearly omniscient level of awareness. This didn't seem at all like the girl Alicia had first observed at the New Mexico motel. She had none of that cheerleader quality to her appearance. Up close her eyes looked older, ancient even. Her hair had become whiter. Now only the occasional strand of blonde broke its snow white. She looked almost the same as she had in Alicia's dream.

Thinking about that vivid, raw nightmare sent a nervous tingle up from the depths of Alicia's gut. A day would come soon when this girl—this Holy Beast—would have absolute and complete control over her. The idea of being so totally dominated was dizzying. The only thing she could compare it to was how she felt the time she skipping school with Jack Tanner, and hid in the loft room of his parent's garage. It had been a stifling hot afternoon and she let him be her first.

But there was nothing sexual about this excitement. This was religious. Alicia wasn't contemplating giving herself over to a man or a boy—or even a mortal.

"Don't worry," she said. "He's probably just radioing ahead to let them know we're coming.

"Are these people were going to see nice?" Amy asked.

"Sure. I guess so." Alicia felt uneasy lying to her. "I've never really met them but they're on our side. They're on your side."

The New Hampshire people would certainly take care of Amy but Alicia wasn't so sure how she'd be treated. Would she be the triumphing hero or the interloper? After a moment of having the doubt nag at her she said, "Things might get a bit crazy when we get in there. Everyone is going to want to see you. We might get separated but you can always ask for me to be with you. I mean, I'd be happy to stay by you, if that is what you want."

"Like a friend? It would be easier with a friend."

"I'd like to be your friend."

They came out of the dark tunnel of foliage and the compound came into view. A tall wooden fence circled it. A watch tower stood next to a wide, open gate. Up in the tower were two men with AKs. Out on the road, spilling from the gateway were hundreds of people.

Alicia slowed down the car. "Are you ready for this, Amy?"

"Why are they out there like that? Are they here to gawk?"

"Gawk? No. They're here to worship you."

She looked at Alicia with confusion but slowly Amy nodded. "Okay, then. I'm ready."

They drove through the crowd pressing along the side of the road. As the car passed they kneeled into the damp spring grass and lowered their eyes. Alicia spotted many people devoted to the prophet, Kyle Silver, but there were so many others. There were men and woman in camouflage fatigues, bikers in jeans and leathers, fierce looking men dressed in outfits like black pajamas, families in homespun clothes looking like pioneers. But strangest of them all were the women—mostly young girls—in loose white gowns. They didn't bow their heads like the others. They stared straight at Amy with eyes filled with sorrow while the wind tugged at the loose folds of their dresses. They looked like spirits haunting the woods.

Among this congregation, the rented Ford Taurus felt like a flaming chariot. Alicia could barely breathe. The magnitude of the moment sucked all the air from her. She was delivering these people their living god.

***

Author's Note: So we're nearly done folks. This is the end although there is still an epilogue to come before I officially put a close on book two. Look out for it around the middle of September. As for book three, I will be taking a few months off of this project and concentrating on Solving Swanfield and few other short projects. But don't worry, Amy, R.J., Barbara, and all the rest will come back. Spending a year (or more) inside of a novel is an exhausting experience. It distorts my perspective and burns away my spark. And I'm learning spending years inside of a series is even harder. So a small break is required to recharge the battery and gather up some new ideas. But don't worry, I don't plan on going all George R.R. Martin on you (Unless HBO wants to make me a deal ;) ).

Speaking of breaks, I'm leaving on vacation (tomorrow).  I'll have very limited, perhaps nonexistent internet, so I may not beable to get back to you on your comments for a couple of weeks. Butplease leave them, I'll read them and respond as soon as I can. They'rethe lifeblood of why I write on Wattpad.    

One final note on the music. This wasn't the song I planned for this chapter, but after last weekend I was inspired to use something from The Hip. You may not know the Tragically Hip unless your from Canada, but they're a big deal here with many number one songs. Their front man, Gord Downie, is currently battling brain cancer.  He had surgery earlier this year and is going through chemo. But it didn't stop them from doing a farewell tour.  The last concert of this tour was broadcast last Saturday night on the national television station here, preempting the Olympics, ensuring that he and their music will be Canadian Icons for years to come. This isn't one of their popular songs, but how could I resist using it.