Chương 185: CDM 3, Chapter 61: Contract Negotiations

Silas and the rest of the Matewan town council leveled hard gazes as I considered how I should present the ideas I had for making this West Virginia werewolf oasis safer.

"Tell me if I miss any," I began.

"Your potential threats include assholes who want to hurt werewolves, some part of the government coming down on you for whatever reason they make up, and wild monsters coming into the valley to hurt your people. You said you've got everything you need, but does that include medicine and machine parts? Like for the tractors I saw on my way in."

"We send a few folks to the nearest Walmart every few weeks," Silas answered.

"They pick up everything we need and bring it back."

"Where are you getting the money?" One of the other older council members grumbled, "Starting to sound like a fishing expedition, son." Silas gestured for him to be quiet.

"We got a couple of things we can sell. Don't see the need for anything more specific than that."

"Fair. Were any of my other assertions incorrect?" Silas shook his head.

"This place is pretty peaceful. It seems like you've figured out how to live normal, safe lives with lycanthropy. Is that accurate?"

"That's right."

"Is that a consistent and reliable process?" The same man from before protested.

"Silas, we can't trust outsiders, let alone ones that sneak up on us with weapons ready."

"You're right to be concerned," I agreed.

"I'm asking about how you do that because that's where the majority of the fear for werewolves comes from. The assumption is that it turns you into a mindless monster who will kill anything that moves. We've read about a couple communities like this one for werewolves, but no one has shared publicly how they manage the virus. But you have a method that works, right?" Silas thought for a moment.

"Them cages that got you folks all worked up are part of that. A werewolf has to practice being a werewolf without hurting no one. Once a person can shift at will, they're in control, not the virus. Now, a person is still a mean, angry animal in its own right, so if someone is an asshole when they're a human, they'll still be an asshole when they shift, except they're stronger and got nasty teeth now."

"Our channel sees a few million views per video, even the less popular ones," I said.

"My first suggestion is that educating the public on how lycanthropy actually works will help to make you safer, and you'll help the people out there who weren't as lucky to be born near a place like this. We can shoot a video–and hide the location when we do–that explains your method and shows its success rate. That won't blunt all the pitchforks, but it will blunt a lot of them." The council looked unconvinced, including Silas. This situation was slipping away from us.

I could feel the momentum in the room changing.

"That's just one piece," I continued.

"You're also worried about the government swooping in here. We have contacts in the CDM, the EPA, and the military. They're not exactly direct lines to the President, but if you let me make some phone calls, I'm certain I can come back with an official offer that would help protect you." Silas shook his head.

"You're suggesting the opposite of why we built this in the first place. You've got sound reasons, sure, but that's not a gamble our people are willing to take."

"What about levels?" Giago asked.

"That has to interest you. The more levels you've got, the less likely anyone is to mess with you. Government, vigilantes, whatever." Oh, that was a relief. I was glad not to be the sole person who made an attempt at finding a solution here, especially since my suggestions didn't seem to resonate with our captors.

"Go on," Silas replied.

"I know you've got a few former military around here, so I'm guessing that's where the bulk of your town muscle comes from because they have the levels. Everyone else is level 1, I'm assuming." Silas offered a small nod.

"Right now, the CDM is freaking out about wild monsters, gate surges, and whether or not werewolves are a threat. I think this place can solve all of those. Gray's idea about education spooks you because it seems like too big a risk if that's the only thing you do. But what if we could get you gate credits? If you had some levels, you could kill any wild monsters that might wander through, and the CDM would love that too."

"More pie in the sky bullshit," the same man from before barked. Megan leaned forward.

"Get your people legal access to dungeon gates, have your land designated as your protected domain, and pour some water on the fear that's making everything about your lives hard–If that's not bullshit, would that solve our problem?" Silas looked at the faces of his fellow council members.

"Put aside whether or not you think it can be done," Megan added.

"If it could happen, would you want that?"

"I reckon we would," Silas answered.

"Doesn't sound like anything more than wishful thinking, though." Megan took a deep breath.

"We're here as private citizens, but our day jobs are with the CDM." The council erupted in anger. Doing her best to speak over their shouting at us and each other, Megan continued, "Gray is a celebrity in the CDM. He got famous for clearing a B gate at level 10 with a party of mostly levels 6s and below. Then he saved a bunch of people when they found an S-ranked enemy in a D-ranked gate." A few members of the council paused their bickering, intrigued. Megan seemed encouraged by that.

"Did you hear about the Pittsburgh crawler who got assassinated during a memorial? Gray is such a big deal that police thought he could have made that shot at level 11. Think about that, a level 11 that's so respected in combat that law enforcement believed he could take out someone over level 20 with a single shot. That person is offering to be on your side."

With some admonishment from Silas, the council quieted again, though the anger and frustration about our hiding our CDM status very clearly continued to boil in their minds.

"Doesn't mean he's trustworthy," one of the younger council members argued.

"He could still turn around and stab us in the back the moment we're not looking." Shaking her head, Megan replied, "You're not hearing what I'm saying. Gray allowed your men to capture us. Yes, you snuck up on us fair and square, but Gray still could have put an arrow through each of their faces, killing everyone before the first person could hit the ground. He signalled for us to be peaceful, though. He knew you weren't really our enemy."

"More bullshit. You woulda fought if you coulda fought."

"Did you see his bow?" Megan asked.

"The CDM doesn't give out bows like that. He's an asset, so he got the top-of-the-line gear. If you can't buy that he was being kind by surrendering, fine, but that doesn't change the fact that the CDM values him. They put a lot of money into training him, and with all the surges happening, they desperately need people with his skills. Give him a chance to talk with the CDM. You can listen to every word, and you'll see that he has the pull to get you everything we promised."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The council argued amongst themselves. Not only were they skeptical, but they didn't like the idea of giving a hostage a direct line to potential help. Silas held out his arms after a minute to quiet everyone. Addressing his fellow council members, he said, "We've all heard our share of tall tales, but we gotta admit that getting our people levels makes our lives better in all kinds of ways.

That's on top of the stuff we could haul out of a gate to use or sell. Haven't I heard every single one of you talking about how we can't trust the government to protect us from surges? If they're telling the truth, we could protect ourselves." No one argued with that.

"Give him a phone," Silas said to one of the guards behind me.

"He'll make the call right here in front of us."

"What if we can't get a signal?" Megan asked.

"We been here a while. You'll get a signal." A few minutes later, I was offered a smartphone that was several generations old, as well as a power brick and a small signal booster.

"We got electric here, but not a lot of it," Silas explained.

"Make your call." I dialed while Megan recited Chapman's cellphone number from memory, which was a relief because I definitely wouldn't have remembered it. I didn't know anyone's phone number by heart, really, save for the landline at my old home. When we got to the third ring, I worried she might not pick up.

"Hello?" Chapman asked.

"Enforcer Chapman, it's Dorion, and you're on speaker. We're in a bit of a situation, and we need your help."

"I knew something was wrong when your handlers reported missed check-ins. What kind of situation? Where are you?" We didn't have handlers, so I assumed she meant Nathan and de Saint. Good. If they were in touch with Chapman, then they were safe, at least.

"I can't give you a lot of specifics without permission, but the short version is we need to arrange a few things for some people we've met. We need to get them a steady supply of gate credits and declare them the citizen protectors of a particular region, making them responsible for culling wild monsters in exchange for assurances that their land stays their land and that no one busts down their doors to arrest them." The line went quiet. After a while, I asked, "Are you there?"

"Yes. This is a lot to digest. Are you safe?"

"Yes," I answered.

"But you can't tell me where you are?"

"Correct."

"You've made some big promises, it sounds like."

"This was all Giago's idea, actually," I replied.

"Hey!" Giago protested.

"This is important," I continued.

"We see this deal solving a lot of problems. The CDM will have fewer gates to worry about, these people can take care of hunting wild monsters in terrain they know best, and it can help with…" I looked up.

"Am I allowed to be specific?" Silas shook his head.

"It can help with something else important to the CDM. I'm sorry that I can't say what."

"These sound like hostage demands," Chapman said.

"They're good people. They didn't hurt us, and all they want to do is protect their families. I would have done the exact same thing if I were in their shoes." The line went quiet again. I really wished I could see Chapman's face in that moment. That might have given me some clue as to how this was going. I added, "It would mean a lot to me if you threw in some crawling gear for them too. I'm not sure what classes we'd be equipping, but a few sets of armor and some new swords, spears, and bows would be great.

That's me asking for them, not a demand they're making." Chapman sighed.

"If I had the authority to green-light everything you asked for right now, I would. You know as well as anyone that gate rights aren't easy to give away, and the request for land is probably the most complicated part of all of this. I need to make some phone calls to give you a real answer. Can I call back on this number?"

"I'm getting a head nod, yes," I answered.

"Okay. I'll be back in touch as soon as possible. To whoever is listening, nothing is more important to me than my people. Please keep them safe, and I'll get you what you want." A guard took the phone from my hand and ended the call.

"She didn't sound optimistic," Silas observed.

"What we're asking for is enormous," I replied.

"It would be more suspicious if she gave us an instant 'yes.'" The doors to the schoolhouse opened, and a man entered carrying a drone. I knew from the googly eyes, eye shadow, and lipstick that it was Kimmy. Well shit. So much for keeping Nathan and de Saint's presence a secret. The drone didn't look damaged, though. Whatever they did to get their hands on it didn't involve shooting it down or any kind of crash.

"This landed in the middle of town," the man said.

"And it had this taped to the top." He held out a ziplock bag with a folded piece of paper inside. Silas put on a pair of glasses and leaned back to squint as he read aloud, "37 bugbears in Red Jacket. 3 are shamans. Camping near old firehouse. Scouts sent in all directions, including south."

"Firetruck" was a codeword Nathan and I had for when we were being deathly serious about a topic, serious to the degree that our friendship was at stake for ignoring it.

"Firehouse" wasn't an alternate code we had discussed, but I knew its inclusion wasn't an accident. He probably couldn't figure out a believable way to work that into the message, so he settled for something close. That was a lot of bugbears, and Nathan wanted us to know the threat they posed was very real.

"Seems you lied to us about being alone," Silas said.

"I don't know why I gave y'all the time of day."

"That's a serious message," Megan argued.

"He blew his cover deliberately because that was his best option. Think about it. Something had to be bad enough to take a risk like that."

"We have lookouts in Red Jacket. We would have heard from them if this were real."

"Drones fly faster than people," Hornby retorted.

"Sure do, but not faster than radios," Silas countered. A younger woman burst into the schoolhouse.

"The Red Jackets reported a bugbear camp, a big one. Should we get people to the shelters?" Silas narrowed his eyes.

"They're sure?"

"Pappy, they're real scared. I never heard Wyatt's voice shake like that. Not ever."

"The drone has a memory card," Megan said.

"We can look at the footage." Silas shook his head.

"We don't got much in the way of computers."

"Use our headcams. Those have playback. Swap the memory cards and watch the video." Good thinking, Megan. One of the guards retrieved Hornby's helmet and camera from a cabinet at the very back of the schoolhouse. He swapped the memory cards and then offered the camera to Silas. The screen on those cams was barely larger than a postage stamp, but Silas would still be able to see just fine.

"It won't play," he gruffed. The same guard leaned over and tapped the screen once.

"Oh, that fixed it." I held my breath while Silas watched. Megan had interpreted "firehouse" the same way I did, so we both hoped we got that right. If we didn't, Silas was about to have more proof we couldn't be trusted. His eyes widened suddenly. My fear of pissing off our captors washed away to make room for an even greater fear. That was, indeed, a lot of bugbears, and I was unarmed.

"Christ," Silas muttered before looking up.

"Quiet alarm. Get everyone into shelters. Now." Two of the guards ran out of the room.

"You've seen the video of our hunts," Megan interjected.

"This is a big fight. You need our help."

"Or you stab us in the backs the moment you've got weapons," the younger councilman who spoke before said.

"For fucksake," Hornby groaned.

"I told Rankin you McCoy lovers were a bunch of pussies. I shoulda added that you're all dumbasses, too. The hell you arguing for when we've got monsters coming our way? Fuck, you can lock me back up after if you want. That beats dying because some wannabe rednecks were busy circle jerkin'. You the pivot man, Silas? Forearms tired, or do you got lots of practice?" The other younger councilman stomped toward Hornby.

"The fuck you say?"

"Ah shit, you fuckers are deaf too?" Silas looked between Megan and me.

"You're giving me your word?" We nodded.

"Amos, back the fuck off him before he whoops you." To the guards, he added, "Get them their gear. Now."