Dawn had been in an open mouth lip lock with a senior named Rob when she felt someone knock into her. Rob gripped her tightly as her body pressed against his. At first, Dawn thought it was a friend of Rob’s shoving her so Rob could cop a cheap feel. But the quick succession of senses told her otherwise.
She wasn’t sure in what order she experienced the sensations. Dawn could see on Rob’s face that he was just a surprised and taken off balance by the shove as she was. The jostling was continuing as people continued to push, shove, and jockey for position in the middle of the group. There was the sound of footfalls; people running. There were screams. There was the pungent odor of wet fur accompanied by the sounds of growling and clawed feet on stone. Then finally, the sound that explained it all. The loud howl of a wolf baying at the moon ripped through the night.
Oh no Dawn thought. Not here. Not now.
The crowd of students dispersed in an instant. Rob the handsome senior showed his other lack of chivalry by dropping Dawn to the ground and running. While common sense should have told her to stand and run, Dawn’s instincts drove her to turn and face the sound of the commotion before rising to her feet. Dawn tried to stand, but had twisted her ankle and been trampled when she fell. The crowd parted, almost like it was making a path toward her. And down that path the large beast causing the commotion quickly ran.
The Quad was already in havoc by the time Connor arrived. The mass of people and movement made the werewolf impossible to see. But Connor could hear it. He was ready to charge into the fray when he realized he had no weapon. Turning, he quickly punched out the lock to Building 60, situated right on the Main Quad. Opening the door, Connor grabbed the two foot long horizontal metal bar that was part of the inside door handle. Jerking hard, he pulled it loose. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it could work.
A scream ripped through the Quad. Connor ran for its source. He had to push his way through the students running away from the spot. Three hundred people here and not one will step in for this girl Connor thought. He knew it was just as well. Anyone who went up against a werewolf unprepared would either be in the morgue the next morning or howling at the moon the next night.
Connor finally saw the creature charging toward . . .
“Dawn!” Connor yelled.
The wolf was about to snap at her when suddenly it howled in anguish. Not until it whipped its head away could Connor see the bottle of pepper spray in Dawn’s hand.
“Um . . . Hey!” Dawn yelled, finally looking up. She felt embarrassed that, though he seemed to be coming to her rescue, she’d forgotten his name. It was one of those last name-first names that she hated. Cooper or something. It seemed a century ago since she kissed him goodbye in the shadow of Memorial Church. Yet here he was, still willing to risk life and limb for her. Damn, I must look hot tonight she thought. But he’s going to get himself killed. “Connor, don’t!”
It was too late. Connor had the werewolf’s foot. He tugged hard, pulling it out from under the wolf. The beast tumbled to the ground, growling with annoyance and anger. Now on all fours, it spun its head quickly as Connor swung his metal bar as hard as he could. The monster’s jaw and Connor’s weapon collided with a loud crack that echoed throughout the Quad like a gunshot.
The beast howled and snarled. Connor swung again. The wolf’s front paw shot up, blocking the blow. Connor re-envisioned his weapon, thinking it like a foil instead of a club. He lunged forward, sliding the bar over the wolf’s arm and slamming the pole into its eye. The werewolf howled again with pain. It turned and ran southwest, toward Lake Lagunita where Megan had been mauled the night before.
Connor glanced toward the werewolf, then back at Dawn. Of the hundred of people on the Quad only moments ago, only they two now remained. The silver light pouring into the courtyard made Dawn’s blue eyes glow and her black hair shine. Should he follow the werewolf? If he didn’t, it could kill someone else. Was being chivalrous to Dawn worth someone’s life? No Connor thought. But she looks injured. If I chase it, it could circle back and . . .
“Can you walk?” Connor asked quickly.
Dawn tried to stand. She yelped from pain so intense her stomach turned as if she were about to vomit. With tears in her eyes, she slumped back to the ground and shook her head no.
“Hold this,” Connor said, giving her the bar.
Dawn took the bar, feeling confusion and fear. He’s going to leave me here with only that metal bar she thought. But before the thought was done, she found herself suddenly in his arms with no idea how she got there.
Connor ran toward Serra Street, where the university’s Marguerite shuttle bus made its stops. Connor made it to the stop just as the bus pulled up. He set her inside.
“Go somewhere safe,” Connor said frantically as he took the metal bar back. “Whatever happens, don’t come out tonight or tomorrow night. Okay?”
Dawn nodded and turned away. She had to get to Buffy and Willow. They’d be able to handle this. Suddenly, Dawn’s thoughts were interrupted by other thoughts. Connor. He was just a normal college boy, yet he’d fought off a werewolf to save her.
She also felt butterflies in her stomach. She turned back, enjoying the idea of the evening’s romantic symmetry. Her first night at college would begin and end with a kiss from the same boy. She opened her mouth and prepared to lean out and kiss him. It had been less than a second since Connor put her on the bus, yet . . . he was nowhere to be seen.
Ten minutes later, despite the pain in her ankle, Dawn limped through Willow’s front door. The house was well lit, but no one was there. On a small table in the foyer laid a note.
Dear Dawn,
Will, Kennedy, and I have to catch a werewolf. Lasagna’s in the fridge.
-Buffy
“Typical,” Dawn muttered as she limped toward the refrigerator, more interested in an ice pack than lasagna.
**
Clutching the metal bar in his hand and following the scent of wolf, Connor ran past frantic students and down empty streets. The scent was strong as he neared Lagunita, the site of the previous night’s attack. The dorms around the manmade lake were calm. Connor breathed a sigh of relief the wolf hadn’t gone inside. He could only hope he’d injured it so badly that it was just running for cover.
Connor ran hard up the hill that incased Lagunita. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts and the scent of dog, he missed the scent and shadowy form of girl at the mound’s top.
Connor collided with the woman hard. His limbs tangled with hers and he dropped his weapon as they rolled together down the hill into the dry bed of the lake. The winter rain had not yet filled the pit. Connor rolled to a stop in the high, gentle grass. He felt almost disappointed that such a hard collision had that soft of a landing.
Connor quickly jumped to his feet as the woman near him did the same. Before he could move, speak, or even take in his surroundings, Connor felt a stinging pain in his chest, followed by a light headedness.
“Hold your fire,” the woman called. “Civilian.”
“Sorry, Buffy,” Willow called as she ran down the hill, followed by Kennedy. She glanced at Connor. “Oh my god! Is that . . . I mean, is he alright?”
“What’re you doing out here?” Connor asked grumpily, glancing at Willow and trying to mask the spark of recognition.
“What’re you doing out here?” Buffy shot back.
“I’m looking for a weh . . . mountain lion.”
“So are we,” Kennedy said, quickly glomming on to the boy’s cover story.
“What?” Connor said. “You’re a bunch of girls.”
“That is so sexist,” Willow barked. “Women can hunt mountain lions just as easily as men. At least we had the sense to a tranquilizer gun.” Willow brandished the rifle.
“Speaking of which,” Buffy asked, eying Connor up and down. “How is it you’re still standing?”
“I knew it,” Kennedy said, whipping it a cross out and holding it in Connor’s face.
“Oh, cut it out,” Connor said, grabbing the cross. “I’m not a vampire. See? I can touch crosses and I have a heartbeat.”
“Feels kind of faint,” Kennedy said, grabbing Connor’s wrist to check his pulse.
“Because you tranq’d me!” Connor yelled, pulling his arm away.
“Okay, okay, easy,” Buffy said. “Wait. You know about vampires?”
“Um . . . kind of,” Connor said walking to his metal bar and picking it up.
“So . . .” Buffy looked at him, wanting him to come clean. “Mountain lion?”
“Werewolf,” Connor said.
“Alone and unarmed,” Buffy added disapprovingly.
“No,” Connor said angrily as he held up his metal bar. “I had this.”
Willow and Kennedy began laughing as Connor waved the two foot metal bar.
“It’s the best I could do on short notice.” He glanced back and forth, taking a deep breath as realization dawned on him. “Which one of you is Buffy?” He looked at the blonde slayer. “You, right?”
Buffy was taken aback. “You, you know--”
“If I know about vampires, why wouldn’t I know about slayers?” He held out his hand. “I’m Connor.”
Willow smiled slightly. Catching an odd glance from Buffy and Connor, she shrugged. “I like the name.” Turning to Kennedy, she added, “If we ever have a kid, we should name it that?”
“Connor Rosenburg?” Buffy snickered.
“Moot point,” Kennedy said. “Xander puts his penis anywhere near you and I’m cutting off.”
“Would that go for all guys?” Connor grinned flirtatiously. “Or just this Xander?”
“Ughhh,” Willow said, rolling her eyes. “As if.”
“Hello?” Buffy said. “Werewolf hunt.”
“Right,” Kennedy said. “Well, four people and two weapons. Teams?”
“I call Kennedy,” Willow said.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she said with obvious disappointment. “Me and Mr. Metal Bar will cover the golf course and the foot hills. You two head back to campus and see if it circled around for a snack.”
Connor quickly sniffed the air. “I think it went toward the golf course,” Connor said.
“Then you should be happy that’s where we’re going,” Buffy said.
“But we could all stick together,” Connor said.
“Cover more ground if we split up,” Buffy said.
“Yeah,” Connor persisted. “And we’re easier to pick off.”
“Are you deaf or what?” Kennedy snarled. “She said we-”
“Actually,” Willow cut in cautiously. “Maybe . . . maybe he’s right.”
“If he’s not, we’re screwed,” Buffy said, angry that there was a discussion.
“Come on,” Connor said. “The scent is getting cold.” He cursed under his breath, hoping no one realized . . .
“The scent?” Kennedy said incredulously.
Willow gritted her teeth nervously.
Buffy continued to stare at Connor appraisingly. “You can track it,” Buffy said. It was a statement, not a question. She thought a moment. Maybe this kid was like Oz. A werewolf who cold control the change. But even Oz had his limits.
“Okay,” Buffy continued. “You lead. Stay four or five yards in front of us.”
“What?” Connor asked. “Why?”
“Just do it,” Kennedy said, giving Connor a slight push.
Connor shook his head and began walking toward the Stanford Golf Course.
Buffy leaned toward Willow and whispered. “Be ready to shoot if this kid changes into a wolf.”
Willow shook her head. “Buffy I don’t think-” She was cut off as both she and Buffy became aware that Connor, now five yards ahead of them, was staring back at them. It looked as if he could hear them.
“Just keep walking,” Buffy called. She turned to Willow. “Be ready.”
Connor stepped out onto the golf course, following the scent of werewolf. He walked ten feet past a hole banked by sand traps and came to a stop. Connor frowned.
“What?” Buffy yelled.
“I lost it. The scent. It’s gone.”
“Could it have doubled back?” Willow asked.
“Not without us seeing it,” Kennedy said.
“Or hearing it,” Buffy added. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
Connor shook his head. “He knew I was tracking it. That’s why . . .” Connor turned suddenly. “Get back!”
“What?” Buffy said.
Instantly, there was a volcano of sand from one of the traps banking the green. Buffy reflexively covered her face and Kennedy froze in confusion. Only Willow had the presence of mind to fire the rifle. But it was a blind shot into a torrent of sand. The wolf had dug itself into the sand trap, waiting to ambush Connor.
The wolf landed on Kennedy, slamming the slayer into the ground. Willow struggled to reload the rifle, but the wolf knocked it from her hands, shattering it. Another swing of its clawed hand hammered Willow on the side of the head, knocking her unconscious.
Buffy kicked the wolf, letting it know there was still a fight to be had. Willow was not yet dinner. The wolf kicked its leg, shaking sand lose and up toward Buffy’s eyes. The slayer braced herself for a swipe from the wolf’s claws. Instead, she felt someone grip her shoulder and pull her backward.
Opening her eyes, Buffy watched as the wolf swung its claws at her. Quickly, Connor’s arm flew out, nailing the wolf in the wrist with the metal bar. Connor circled his wrist around and nailed the same wrist again on the other side. The wolf pulled its arm back and whimpered.
Connor moved forward, trying to press his advantage. The wolf slashed his ribs as it desperately back-pedaled. Four fighters were too many for it to handle. It ran hard toward the foothills. Connor stumbled forward to follow, but soon found himself on his knees, his ribs stinging.
“Guess my bar doesn’t look so stupid now, does it?” Connor said with a smile as he dropped the bar and grasped his ribs. The sky above campus was light blue and pink.
“Sunrise,” Kennedy said, still laying on her back.
“Guess we’re out of the wolf hunting business until nightfall,” Connor said.
“No,” Buffy said. “We start compiling a list of possible werewolves. That’s what we did at Sunnydale High.”
“There’s 7,000 undergraduates here,” Connor started. “Another 8,000 graduate students, and thousands more faculty, staff, post docs, spouses of students and faculty. This isn’t high school. You’re talking about the population of a small size town.”
“Then we better get to work,” Buffy said. “Start with people you know. Have any friends you couldn’t find tonight?”
“Try all of them,” Connor said. “Terrell, Alyson, Craig . . .”
“Then you’ll have a busy day,” Buffy said.
Connor looked at his ribs. The cuts were light and already healing. “I’ll call my dad. He’ll know about werewolves. Signs someone is one. Stuff like that.”
Willow smiled slightly. “It’s good you and your dad get along like that.” She handed Connor her address. “Meet us at my house before dusk. We’re having dinner if you want to come early.”
***
“Hey dad,” Connor said into his cell phone as he walked back toward campus.
“Whu-zzzzt . . . ear you.”
“Hang on,” Connor said as he began jogging. “Bad reception.”
“Ell phone?” Connor heard Angel say as he hit a clear patch
“Yeah,” Connor said.
“Hate those things. Find your wolf?”
“No. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh,” Angel said, disappointed. “You know, I thought maybe . . . like you’d call to say ‘Gee dad, thanks for the werewolf advice’ or something.”
“Have I ever said ‘Gee’ in my entire life? But you’re right. Thanks. I just have a deadline to find this guy. Or girl.”
“Nina’s here in bed with me. I can put her on.”
“Thanks. Um . . . you two weren’t . . . doing stuff, were you?”
“Well, she does get frisky the night after a full moon.”
“Okay, I can’t deal with this.”
Angel laughed. “Here she is.”
“Connor?” a female voice came.
“Um, yeah. Hi.” He felt nervous. “So . . . are you my new mom?”
“What?!” Nina said nervously.
“I’m kidding. Look, um, werewolves. The night after a full moon, what are you like? Besides, um . . . that thing with my dad.”
“Well, that’s part of it. We’re definitely more um . . . active around the full moon.”
“Moving on to less gross stuff. I beat this thing up pretty bad last night. Will the person be walking around with injuries today?”
“Depends how bad you hurt it. Broken bones, yeah. Short of that, we heal pretty quickly.”
“So the werewolf is a horny college student who may or may not be injured,” Connor said sarcastically. “Finding him’ll be no problem at all.”
“We’re usually more aggressive, too,” she said despondently. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“Thanks,” Connor said. “And hey Nina.”
“Yeah?”
“Keep my dad happy.” Connor hung up. "One werewolf. Over 20,000 candidates. Yeah. This won't take long at all."
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