A/N: Hello. :) Sorry for the year-long hiatus, but I finally got the werewolf jitters again. Here is the very long-awaited next chapter of my version of Howling II. And in case you're wondering, I will add in the events of the Revenge of the Werewolf Queen comic, but some events may be altered to suit future developments. Beyond that, I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

Chapter 2: Recovery

It didn't take long for the pubgoers to become frightened. Not long after Terry left for the moors, they heard a howl and assumed the worst. For a few minutes, they tried to leave well enough alone, but by the urgings of Gladys, they had to go after them. When they left, however, they saw something they didn't wish to see: a werewolf on a rampage. And by the same circumstance, they also saw Terry diving headfirst into its body like a football player. It didn't make sense to either of them until they saw the claws on her hands. They were that of a Wolf's.

On first impulse, they tried to shoot Terry, but Gladys dissuaded them from doing so. The part that threw them off was her trying to reason with it, especially her mentioning of George Waggner. But, surprised as they were, their guard was still on high. So, when Terry's act of diplomacy failed, they had to kill off the werewolf they housed on the moors for too long. In the end, two of them survived, but not before the beast set its claws upon them. As for Terry, they looked to her for the answer to what happened. The response she could give was this.

"I guess an explanation is probably long overdue."

Moments later, as the hospital was on its way to take David and Jack in, thanks to Terry's emergency call, she had just finished her story to the pubgoers about how she came to be cursed, what the colony was, and what she was now dealing with as David and Jack laid unconscious on the table. Many sympathized her for the lone journey, if not her curse. After all, who would ask to live as a beast? The late werewolf that was shot certainly didn't, and there was no doubt that the boys hadn't either. All the same, they felt bad for her, Gladys especially when it came to the topic of her late friend, Karen.

"So, the werewolf that was shot on the telly... she was your friend?"

Terry didn't feel comfortable hearing that her friend was shot, and the end result in which they seemed to move on didn't make her feel any better, but she was nonetheless correct.

"She gave up her life to show the world that they exist. A lot of good that did, though."

Personally, Gladys failed to see how it didn't do much good as it raised awareness in their pub.

"What do you mean? It did a bloody lot of good."

"Then why doesn't the world believe, Gladys?There should be people preparing themselves, people locking their doors. There should be an outrage, or a riot. But nothing's changed..."

Gladys began to see her point. If the whole world believed, it would've been easier to tell David and Jack. But they didn't, so it wasn't. However, one of the pubgoers had a theory.

"Or maybe they did."

Terry and Gladys turned to the pubgoer who'd told the Alamo joke moments earlier. How can he be certain that things have changed when he hasn't set foot outside the Slaughtered Lamb in a while? The barmaid was curious to know.

"What do you mean, Tom?"

"There were always werewolves living among us, but none of us knew a bloody thing... until a couple of days ago, that is."

Terry felt as though he was just repeating her own words. Then again, he may be onto something.

"Is that why you let me stay? Because you knew I believed?"

"Well, none of us thought you'd go after a werewolf, much less of you being one. But that's not the point. You said it yourself. There should be an outrage; a riot, but there wasn't any to see."

"What are you trying to say here?"

Tom looked at Terry with stern eyes, fixing his gaze as he replied.

"If I were a werewolf... I'd kill the people who would talk."

It began to get clear to Terry. Despite what Karen did in her effort to expose the werewolves, it also made them desperate to keep their existence secret. Why didn't she realize that sooner? Who knows how many werewolves are really out in the world? And who knows if she's out there?

For all she knows, Marsha could've gone wise to her apparent survival and transformation. She could very well be tracked right this minute! Terry wanted to run away then and there, but when the thought crossed her mind, she looked back to David and Jack. If she just ran, she'd end up leaving the two neophytes behind, and that would cause a bigger problem for London. And she can't bring them with her now, not with the hospital coming to pick them up. So, really, there was one thing to do for her.

"I have to go. I can't stay here any longer."

Gladys assumed she had to leave on account of what Tom said to her. Whether it was true or not, she had a feeling that it meant abandoning the boys in the care of the hospital.

"And what about them? They've been cursed, too."

Terry seemed to have counted on that as she looked towards the barmaid.

"They're going with me. Once they've recovered, we're going as far away as possible."

"To where, for God's sake?"

Terry didn't rightfully know the answer herself. All she thought about before this point was to find the one who left the Colony. While it didn't work out like she planned, she did pick up two involuntary recruits: David and Jack. The only problem with that is how she can teach them to control their beast within. She didn't exactly have much better luck at understanding her own beast, either. But she'll have to cross the bridge when she comes to it. For now, she had no immediate answer to that except...

"Wherever the road takes us."

Meanwhile, in Santa Cruz, the road Marsha took was a lethal one. As Tom supposed, her colony had tracked down those who witnessed Karen's transformation personally and exterminated them, in an effort to recover their chances of blending in. Like she said before, some people believed in werewolves and others don't. The latter group was lucky not to think so, not that it'd do them much good. Rather, their disbelief was merely delaying the inevitable. The shifters walked the Earth before, and they will aim to do so again. But first, Marsha's worthwhile game of fetch had to begin.

She waited in an office room as a woman in a green dress and yellow ascot stepped inside, the darkness inhibiting the prey from seeing her predator. However, it was when she clicked the light on that she heard a voice.

"Aren't you the night owl?"

The woman looked up and saw a raven-haired woman dressed in a leather suit, sitting in a chair and holding a book called, "The Gift" in her hand with a smug look on her face.

"You don't actually read this trash, do you?"

Instead of a frightened look, she bore an angry one over her face. She must not take too well to intruders.

"Who the heck are you?"

Marsha stood up and continued to hold the book as she answered bluntly.

"I'm Marsha, you're Vera. Names and labels are so important to you people, aren't they? I'm sure Dr. Waggner would've had to say something about that... He thought he was so smart. He did use a lot of fancy words. But he was a fool."

Vera looked at her attire, and began to realize what she was. According to the leather, she must be a nymphomaniac. A siren. Those kinds of people were least welcome to her.

"What do you want? Are you here to seduce my husband?"

Marsha only responded by slamming the book down on the table as she walked up to her while answering her question.

"Not right now. Right now, I'm getting to know you, Vera. What kind of work do you do?"

Vera was taken by surprise by her question. She'd have pictured them to be more focused on satisfying their lust.

"I— I deal in antiques."

"That's what you tell people, sure, but that's not true, is it? Before my brothers and I went to lay low in the colony, we heard about you. No, what you do is something quite the opposite. What was it? It's called... 'broker'. That's it. Broker. Another fancy word of his."

Vera's eyes went wide from hearing this. How much does this woman know?!

"I'm not a big city person, but the way I understand it, you introduce people. Buyers and sellers, except what they buy and sell is on the black market."

Vera's buttons were quickly getting pushed as she called out a name.

"Curt! Get down here now!"

Marsha only gave her a smirk, satisfied with the terror on her face.

"I wouldn't waste your breath. That guard of yours isn't coming to your rescue anytime soon."

Left with no other option, Vera took out a pistol from her purse and aimed it at Marsha.

"Get out of my house, you lunatic! Now! Get out, or I swear to God—"

"Swear all you want— God's not listening."

Vera's breathing began to turn heavy as her handling became just as unsteady. Marsha certainly knew how to shake up a person.

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger."

Vera tried to take aim at Marsha right at her chest. But with the shaking and trembling, her aim was getting worse. It didn't seem to matter much to her. As long as she got a good shot at her, she's bound to learn her lesson not to trespass. With a short exclamation, Vera shot at Marsha's left arm. However, despite the impact of the bullet, Marsha didn't flinch once. And worse yet, she still bore the same smug look on her face.

"You're a lousy shot, Vera."

Marsha made no hesitation to thwack her pistol away with her right hand, but not before it turned into a Wolf's claw. Marsha then looked straight to Vera's eyes as she spoke.

"Years ago, you arranged a sale. A relic called the Hand of Akkara. Who bought it?"

For a moment, Vera could not answer, still paralyzed by what had happened. However, this wasn't the answer Marsha wanted. She swiftly gripped her neck with her Wolf's claw and pinned her to the wall as she snarled.

"Who bought it?!"

Afraid of what else she could do, much less what she really is, Vera had no choice but to answer.

"Valentine. J-Joe Valentine. C.E.O. of P-Prima Corps."

Marsha wasn't much of a big city person, but it didn't take long for her to figure out how to find him. C.E.O.'s always have people working for them, and even they have people working for them. Quite a lengthy chain of connection. And she already knew where to go next.

"Thanks for the tip."

Marsha's skin began to bubble up on her chest as her height began to grow and her teeth growing longer. Vera was beginning to get even more frightened by this sequence in front of her.

"W-What are you?"

Marsha only responded as her skin began to grow fur, her ears turning pointy and growing bigger, and her teeth sharpening into fangs.

"I'm so glad we had this talk. But now... it's time for you to join Curt."

Vera was utterly helpless as Marsha's mouth grew into a muzzle next and her shirt completely tore itself out from the transformation. In another moment, Vera was met not with a nymph, but with a werewolf. All she could do was scream as the wolf dug its teeth into her neck.

Back in London, Terry was in the waiting room of the hospital. She'd decided to stay with David and Jack to oversee their recovery. She even rode with them in the same ambulance, despite her possibility of being tracked. It's the least she could do for them. They didn't ask to be werewolves, either. But for her, the most difficult part is how to put the truth to them.

No sane person would accept that they were cursed to be a werewolf. And yet, she did. She saw a couple of werewolves attack her back then, and she got bitten and scratched by them. Even she was amazed at how content she was about that the following night. All the same, she accepted that fate. However, that doesn't mean they would. They had their own lives to get back to.

But even if they weren't cursed, there's still Marsha Quist to worry about. Evidently, she's fled the colony with her pack, and obviously, they'd stop at nothing to get their revenge. So the truth is, nobody would be safe. When that thought came to her, though, she began to be worried about someone else. Someone she left behind to keep him safe.

"Chris... I hope you're okay..."

All she could do was pray that he could be okay. She didn't get to spend any time with him since that night. She's forced to leave him convinced that she's truly gone. That was the one thing she hated the most about her being a werewolf. So much so in fact that she didn't expect to hear a familiar voice beside her.

"Don't worry. He is."

Terry turned to her left to see an unexpected sight. It was a corpse of the woman she called a friend. Her gunshot wound still appeared as fresh as when she was shot in the chest, evident by the blood on her now stained shirt. Terry was in utter shock over this. How could she be alive?!

"Karen? You're...!"

"Alive? Not quite."

Terry found it hard to believe as she could see her quite clear as day itself.

"What do you mean? Y-You're sitting right next to me! How did you even get here?!"

"And you're sitting right next to me. I'm the one who should be surprised. I thought you were dead."

Terry couldn't argue with that. She thought she was a goner, too. Feeling guilt rise up in her for not being able to save her, she held her head down as Karen spoke to her again.

"If I'd known that you can control the beast like that, I wouldn't have asked Chris to shoot me the way I did."

"I'm so sorry, Karen. I wanted to go to you, but—"

Karen only gave her a sad smile before placing her hand on her shoulder, stopping her from speaking altogether.

"I never said it was your fault. You don't have to apologize."

Terry felt it was an empty gesture at this point. It didn't change the fact that she was dead. Or was she? She didn't think it was possible to not be dead nor alive at the same time. Maybe she could still be saved.

"Wait a minute... I-I can get you some help!"

She got up from her chair and was about to look for any doctor who would take her.

"The doctors can help you, like I—"

"Like you did with Dr. Waggner. I know."

Terry became surprised to hear this as she turned back to Karen with confusion over her face.

"How did you know that?"

Karen only took a deep sigh, thinking of some way to sum up how to explain her situation.

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's already too late for me. Besides, you've got bigger things to worry about. Someone is coming for you

"What are you talking about?"

Before Karen could answer, however, she heard another voice speaking to her from behind.

"Ms. Fisher? Are you alright?"

Terry turned around to see a man with grey hair and a dark green jacket beneath his white coat, presumably one of the doctors here.

"Thank goodness, Doctor. I've got one more patient for you to see."

The doctor only bore a confused look on his face as he spoke to her in a similar manner.

"And where is the patient?"

"What do you mean? She's right—"

Intending to prove that she was here, Terry looked behind her only to see that Karen wasn't there anymore. The chair was empty again. Was she imagining things out of guilt? It felt so real...

"Right where?"

Terry wanted to say that she was right there, but she somehow knew it'd make him think she's crazy. She's starting to wonder if she might be as well.

"Never mind. I must've been imagining things."

Hoping to take her mind off of it, Terry turned to the doctor and asked of him the conditions of the ones she did bring in.

"What was it you were going to tell me? Is it about David and Jack?"

"Oh, yes. Well, they'll do quite alright. But it will be some time before they wake up."

"How long would it be exactly until then?"

The doctor stopped himself short for a moment before he spoke again.

"None of us can say precisely. But with your efforts, they should be back within a week or so."

It brought both great relief and agonizing torture to Terry. On one hand, they're safe and sound. On the other, whoever's tracking her could catch her by surprise before then. She doesn't know if she had that kind of time. But regardless, she's glad to know that they're safe for the time being.

"That's good to hear."

The doctor took notice of Terry's face. He couldn't shake off how tired she looked.

"You can rest well, now. You apparently look as though you needed it."

Terry couldn't argue. She hasn't had any decent place to sleep for over three days now since she left for london. But the question was where to find it.

"You have no idea. I haven't had anyplace decent to do that for days."

"I suppose that would explain it. Perhaps I can put in a good word with one of our hotels here and see if they can make room for you."

Terry appreciated that as much as the next person, but with the possibility of her being tracked all the way to London, she didn't think it wise to be in a populated place.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."

"But you've done these men a great service bringing them here. It's the least we could do."

"No, I don't want to give them any trouble."

"There won't be any, Ms. Fisher. I can assure you."

Before Terry could attempt to deny again, she suddenly picked up on a strange scent. It smelled familiar to her. The last time she smelled that scent was back at... the colony. The worst kind of familiarity. Terry became more certain than ever now. She was being tracked, after all. But she can't make a scene about it.

"I'll think about it, Doctor. For now, I'll just take a walk for a bit."

"But you said yourself how tired you were."

"I said I didn't have anyplace decent to sleep. I didn't say I never slept at all. Maybe I just need some fresh air."

The doctor couldn't argue with her on that matter. But he couldn't deny she needed rest soon.

"Well... as long as you think on it. But try not to work yourself too hard."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Terry then walked away from the doctor, hoping she could track down whoever was tracking her before things get from bad to worse.

It wasn't long before she got out of the hospital building and looked around. Tracking aside, Terry also wanted to look around the city. She did always want to go to London. The only difference she wanted was if it was under a better circumstance. All the while, she wasn't lying when she said she needed fresh air. She needed time to work out the events that happened to her.

First, she was turned into a werewolf at the Colony. Next, her best friend exposed herself as a werewolf and was shot dead on TV. Then, she found the werewolf at London, only for it to attack David and Jack before it was killed. And now, her late friend appeared beside her as if she'd come back to life. How was she not freaking out over this?

Maybe she already was. That must be why she needed the fresh air. And she needed it badly. Werewolves must handle stress differently. It might be more difficult now that the truth was out, but the people walking by her didn't seem to notice. Terry cautiously continued her walk among the people, looking around at the scenery of Piccadilly Circus.

When she was at college, she found that it had quite a history, having lasted almost two centuries. Evidently, it connected to Piccadilly, a road holding Piccadilly Hall that was coincidentally named after someone called Robert Baker. He'd made a living making Piccadills, or collars used for shirts. Dr. Waggner would've added that to his list of fancy words if he were here. Before she could reflect on him, though, Terry began to catch that familiar scent again. This time, she could smell where it was coming from. And it was coming from... behind her?

Terry wanted to look behind her to see who had their eyes on her, but she didn't want to give too much away. Instead, she wanted to lure that scent, to make sure it doesn't turn the other way. With that, Terry continued her walk through Piccadilly Circus, hoping to find a private place to separate herself from the public in case it turns out that her smell was right. She hadn't tested it before, but she didn't want to take any chances if it meant her life. She proceeded to walk amongst the crowd, looking for anything apart from public. During her walk, however, she could only find an alleyway in between two buildings. It wasn't as private as she'd hoped, but it was worth a shot.

Terry continued to walk into the alleyway, getting herself further and further away from the public until she reached a dead end of the alley. Not long after, Terry heard a voice behind her.

"Funny. I didn't peg you as the type to get yourself lost."

Terry's hunch turned out to be right after all. And apparently, Karen's for that matter. All the same, she expected the source of the scent to follow her. Terry turned herself around to face her tracker, only to meet none other than... Bill.

He was after Karen the night the colony burned down, that much she knew. And since then, he must've had a hard day. His face had grazings of silver on his head near his right eye. No doubt he survived what was supposed to be fatal, and Marsha must've sent him to track her all the way to London.

"And I didn't honestly peg you as the type to follow me knowing that. But here we are... Bill."

Bill only gave her a small glare towards her. He didn't seem too pleased over the fact that she's alive. Terry wasn't blind to that as she spoke again.

"What's wrong, Bill? Lost for words? I'd have thought you'd be happy to see me."

She made the remark out of bitterness for him cheating on Karen for Marsha. Although, she knew the kind of person he used to be before he was bitten. And she herself was different from who she was before Eddie bit her. So the blame wasn't entirely on him. However, it didn't make him any more pleased.

"I would be... if your boyfriend didn't shoot me."

Terry knew he must be talking about Chris. The last thing she noticed about him was driving off away from the colony. He must've been forced to shoot him to keep themselves safe. And Bill was really mad since then, she would assume. Though, she failed to see what it had to do with her.

"And what does that have to do with me? I was 'dead' at the time."

"Well, you don't look so dead to me."

"You know Eddie. Once a Mangler, always a Mangler."

If Terry thought Bill was angry before, he might as well be furious. His right hand began to grow claws before dragging them on the wall, screeching against it before gripping her by the neck with it as he spoke coldly.

"Don't... talk about Eddie like that."

Terry began to think she struck a nerve. But how could she? Eddie didn't matter that much to him, did he? The guy bit him and turned him into that beast in the first place. Marsha must've seduced him in more ways than the obvious. As Terry was lifted by his hand and placed on the wall, he began to growl, his teeth sharpening into fangs as he spoke.

"I don't know how you survived, but this time, you won't be so lucky."

He didn't know? Hasn't he figured out by now how she survived? The answer to that didn't seem like something she needed to know. For now, she was more interested in showing him the answer to his question as she spoke amidst his choking.

"You really... don't know? Why don't I show you?"

With that, Terry did a hard kick on his ribs, knocking him back as he released her neck from his clawed hand. Terry fell to the floor as Bill staggered back before she looked up to him with yellow eyes while her nails grew to claws like his. Upon seeing this, Bill was utterly stupefied. That must be how she survived. She was one of them.

It all made sense to him. Eddie must've turned her and waited for her to awaken before Chris came along and massacred them. But the question was why Marsha would keep that from him. Or did she not know about that development either? Whichever way it goes, Bill wouldn't raise his claw against a member of the pack, even if they did desert it; Marsha wouldn't let him, or there'd be heck to pay. Besides, if he were to attack her now, the commotion would expose them. Still, seeing this changes things.

"So that's it. That's how you survived, isn't it?"

Terry only maintained her glare as Bill continued, his words seemingly falling on deaf ears.

"I thought my sense of smell was off when I picked up blood from that runaway at the moors. I didn't think you could actually pull that off, but... look at you now. And... you're not the only one here, are you?"

Terry's glare softened from hearing this. She knew David and Jack were attacked back at the moors, and she knew where that leads. Could he have picked up their scent, too? Bill seemed to have done that as he sighed.

"Well, that settles it. This changes everything."

Terry was thrown off to hear that as her glare returned.

"What does it change?"

"You'll see. All three of you. Marsha will make sure of that."

Bill took his leave from the alleyway, walking away as Terry endeavored to go after him, but realized that doing so would bring her beastly sight out to the open. Terry wasn't willing to do it so soon from the beginning, and she knew how well it worked out for Karen. All she could do was watch him walk away into the crowd as Terry shifted herself back to normal, her blue eyes returning and her nails and fangs shrinking. One more thing to add to the list she needs to rest from. And after today, she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to.

"Marsha. What are you trying to do...?"

As much as she wanted to know, Terry didn't quite care for the answer. Because now, her top priority are the people she rescued: David and Jack.