Lucius walked over the burnt ground, grass turning to ash beneath his boot. The fire had been fierce, the worst on record and he had no choice except to help. He couldn't just walk out on the people that had supported him for almost a decade. Still he would have to leave soon, already he itched, feeling the lycanthropy burn his insides. Normally he would already be preparing for the week-long transition but that was all out the window now that his remote patch of bushland was scorched black. He would have liked somewhere with containment facilities but the truth was that his condition wasn't conducive to stability, long term employment and bank loans. In his youth, before his affliction, he had squandered what time and money he had, choosing to enjoy life. At twenty one very few people consider the possibility of having to deal with a debilitating disease.

The move to Australia had been a good one. Lucius thought a vast and sparsely populated continent was just what he needed, but in the end it hadn't solved his problems. It had been a hard slog and a long adjustment before he found his feet. Even now he was nearing forty years of age and struggling to earn enough money to tide him over. No business wanted an employee that needed two weeks off every month. Which left him working sporadically, picking up temporary positions. Hard work gained him a reputation and in time he was known across the community as an honest, solid worker.

His dark past was never far from his thoughts and even now as he turned smoldering logs on the burnt bushland, Lucius could feel it creeping on him. People were busy, too exhausted to pay much attention to his physical appearance and he kept a battery clipper in his bag to trim fast growing hair. Anything to hide that he was now sporting a full beard in a single day. Body hair was allowed to grow unfettered, hidden beneath the full length, yellow C.F.S uniform. This was only the beginning of the physical changes and the ones to come would not be so easily hidden beneath clothing.

The fire had consumed most of the vegetation, the undergrowth was gone and any smaller branches were ash. Blackened tree trunks peppered the landscape, but trees were built tough in this part of the world and they would reshoot after the next rain. It was the larger fallen logs that harbored coals and spat hot sparks into the wind. Lucius buried embers along the edge of the burn path before the north-westerly could change and carry them into unburnt lands. He wished desperately that he could simply disappear into that remaining bushland for the next week, but he knew better. Someone had once told him those who don't remember their mistakes were doomed to repeat them. From that point on Lucius had done all he could to not wake with that dreaded feeling, covered in someone else's blood and steeped in fear of having done terrible things. Once had been enough.

Rolling a smoldering log over, Lucius recognised the tail of a goanna, charred black and poking from under some dirt. Unable to outrun the flames it had taken refuge under the wood and dug in desperation. He crouched to pull the cooked animal free of the soil and ripped the burnt skin away to reveal the white flesh beneath. With a quick glance about first, to be sure he was alone, he began to devour the creature. He was hasty and it was messy but it would keep him going for a little longer. He had eaten many animals that had been caught in the bush fire, the more he could feed the wolf now the better. Under normal circumstances he would poach a few ewes, knowing that the missing sheep were unlikely to be noticed. He would eat one the week before and take two into the bush, hoping to keep the beast fed and close to his vehicle.

By nightfall Lucius had a splintering pain in his face and he knew it was time to leave. At least the aching would keep him awake as he drove the long trip to his back up territory. He had hastily excused himself from the fire fighting effort and no one had questioned him at the time, something he was grateful for. His 4wd was always packed and ready, with emergency water, towels, spare clothes, and some high energy non perishables. The wolf wouldn't touch the food, preferring fresh meat or absent that, it would scavenge something dead. Instead Lucius would need it on the other side to recoup energy and recover before returning to society. The arid landscape worked as an advantage too with the creature more likely to stay near the prepared water than to stray. Over the last few years Lucius had taken to tracking his movements, a G.P.S secured to his toe, gave some insight to how well his attempts to contain the beast worked. Some months were better than others, but fresh meat and water definitely made a difference. The wolf ranged around five kilometers, preferring to stay in cover but there was no telling which direction the beast would take Lucius in.

Half way into the five hour drive and Lucius' fingernails began to ingrow, biting into his fingers and gaining thickness. The rapid growth still took hours as it cut into his flesh and slowly built up more claw like with each passing hour. His face swelled as his top lip gained more skeletal structure and the roof of his mouth broke apart. He had to wind down the window several times to spit teeth out as they came loose in his mouth while his jaw cracked and fragmented. He used to swallow the teeth hoping to regain some calcium, but later found they didn't digest so he kept a supply of calcium tablets on hand instead. By the time he reached the dirt road turn-off he almost missed it, distracted by the pain. He had plenty of time but it was none too pleasant and he wished he hadn't left it until the last day. Still all he had to do was unroll a swag and fill a tub with some water before stashing his clothes. He wouldn't use the bed roll until he was on the other side, instead he chose to lay curled under a tree to let the transformation take its course. The last thing Lucius the man heard was a far off distant howl, but it seemed far away and of not much concern to the sleeping man.

**************

Jenny woke from a strange dream in a dark room needing to wee badly. She called out for Mum before remembering with a sick feeling that Mum was gone, having died last year she would never hold her again. Instantly she felt empty and sad. Then suddenly the light clicked on and Dad was there at her side giving her a warm hug and asking if she needed the toilet. It didn't make the sadness go away but it helped. They had moved away after the funeral, Jenny hadn't wanted to go but it didn't matter. Dad had quit his job to spend more time at home with Jenny. It was nice having him there; it made her feel less alone.

So they had moved out to the country. Dad had found an old abandoned farmhouse for cheap and they had moved in, despite it needing repairs. The house was large, made with stones and had an open fireplace. It was surrounded by bushland and Jenny had to do school over a radio. Dad said it was affordable and he could do some casual work to tide them over. He did his best to comfort her and slowly the house seemed less scary with each passing day. She had to admit that toasting marshmallows inside was pretty cool. The one thing that Jenny hated the most was the outside loo. It was wooden and full of cracks that spiders moved in and out of. Everytime she used it she lifted the lid with trepidation expecting something to jump out at her. Dad promised to replace it and put one inside as soon as he had the money.

So Dad pulled her from her warm bed and walked with her to the back porch. Jenny slipped her crocks on, shivering as a chill wind sucked her body heat away into the cloudless night. Dad had put a light in the toilet so at least it wasn't dark any more. Sitting in a toilet at night, holding a torch, had been terrifying and she had wet the bed rather than do it again after the first time. So dad had put the light in and had come with her the first few times. She liked him to stand outside the door, too afraid to be alone, knowing he was there, was just enough to keep her from refusing to use the loo.

Jenny's full bladder urged her on but sensing that Dad wasn't behind her she stopped on the path and looked back. He had stopped to pull on his boots, she turned, eyes searching for his protective form on the porch. He was coming slowly with his head down as he struggled to pull on his work boot. Something in the dark cracked and Jenny spun back to stare into the gloom. There was movement in the dark by the wooden toilet, hidden by the glare coming off the single bulb light. A cold fear gripped her and she wanted to turn and run or scream but she was frozen. A tall man was walking fast towards her up the path, except he wasn't a man but some kind of animal. It strode faster and was at her in seconds, Jenny was unable to move as the monster grabbed at her. Jenny's reflexes made her hunch her shoulders and tuck her head. Long powerful arms gripped her arms and it put its face over her head, pulling at her hair. Something sharp caught on her scalp and ran up the side of her head, feeling like a hot knife. She tried to get her hand up to push it away but the monster kept biting at her head, crushing her hand in the process and causing pain to shoot up her arm. She finally managed to scream and the creature shook its head violently, shaking her arm in its jaws. When it let go of her hand she waved it pleadingly but that only exposed her neck for the creature to bite, catching the edge of her esophagus and making it hard to breath. Desperately she tried with her free hand to hit the thing but she couldn't feel her fingers enough to make a fist and it just felt weak against its hard, hairy body. It lifted her frail body off her feet and pulled her down, still clamped onto her neck with powerful jaws, stretching her painfully before dropping her in a heap. Struggling to breath, Jenny could hear a buzzing as her body was consumed by a burning feeling. In a final realization, she recognised the sound as that of her father screaming.

****************

Lucius woke to something on his face irritating him. Instinctively he swiped at it before he realized it was part of his face coming away. The whole bone structure was detached and hanging loose, held only by a determined piece of skin. Disturbed by the wolf muzzle still attached to his being, Lucius pulled it violently and like a scab not yet ready to lift, it peeled a strip of skin with it. It stung horribly and when he rubbed it with his hand it came away bloody. He was still too weak and plagued with transformation to do anything but bury his face into the nook of his elbow and sob. He was still covered in horrible dank hair but that would molt over the next two days. His human teeth would work their way down from inside his skull, the swelling would stop, the skin would heal and then lose its new skin shine to look more normal. Tomorrow he would clean up, today was still too much for him and with that he passed out.

The next day was worse. The wolfman retreated leaving Lucius all by himself, alone with the aches, pains and covered in matted, bloody hair. It hung off him in clumps and hurt when he pulled at it. The pain was nothing compared to the dread that was steadily building inside him. There was a lot of blood and he suspected the worst. He felt sickened and had to get it away from his body. He pulled at the hair on the front of his body and used a nearby tree to scour his back of the filthy mess. The tangles caught on the bark and stuck to the trunk, but when he turned to discard the hair, he made a grizzly discovery. Caught up in one clump was a small child's severed finger.

A week later the newspaper reported the murders. A father and his daughter. Recently moved to an old farmhouse and had been renovating when they were brutally murdered. Their photos covered the local paper and the murder was national news because of the sheer brutality. Lucius had hastily made the trip back to his rental but the guilt had followed him, or maybe he had carried it. He desperately wanted to hand himself in. He thought about it unceasingly but when he tried to do it, something stopped him. Something deep inside his being had too much self preservation to allow it.

But Lucius couldn't bear the pain any more. He couldn't stop thinking about the suffering he had caused or the mistakes he had made. He wanted to tell himself that it wasn't his fault. That the wolf had done it, not him, but he knew that the two of them could never be separated. The wolf was him and he was the wolfman. King wrote that you "Get busy living or get busy dying" and for a long time Lucius had just got on with living. Each day, just another step on the journey of life. He planned ahead and tried his best to make a life for himself. Looking in the mirror he vowed to learn from this mistake, there would be no repeating this. With a fast, firm hand and without thinking, he turned the cut throat razor on himself, slitting his own throat to the spine. The blood gushed hot over his hand and down his shirt, making his head spin. It was time to get busy dying and with that, he sat with his back against the wall, while too late the wolf inside him raged powerlessly in defeat.