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It didn芒聙聶t take long for them to reach the 31st floor. They stopped at door 5. North was about to kick it when it opened with a soft click, blown by a cold wind. He grunted. Something was not right. The wolves went in first, followed by North.

He knew that they were not there the moment that he saw the smashed window. He strode over to it, and whilst the wolves searched the rooms, looked down into the growing darkness. What he saw made even his mind question itself. Silhouetted against the lights of the walkways, were two figures. Some part of North芒聙聶s brain wondered how they, as humans, could breathe the smoggy air. But the bigger part told him that they were running, and he should chase them.

The nearest walkway that opened up into the apartment building was 3 metres below Joe芒聙聶s window. Joe had looked at the glass of the walkway芒聙聶s roof, wondering if it could take his weight. He also wondered how he would breathe the outside air. Daemon, however, held no such reservations. He had tied a filthy rag around his head, covering his mouth, and had thrust a rag of similar dirtiness into Joe芒聙聶s hands. Daemon had taken a lamp from a table, and Joe had sense enough to step back before Daemon hurled it at the window. It broke through with a crash. Splinters of glass and debris were whipped around the apartment by the cold wind. Unseen in the darkness, rain pelted down from the heavens. Joe stared upwards, his hands resting on the broken shards of glass that lined the window frame, cutting into his hands. The water mingling with his blood, and he stood there, transfixed by the infinite black sky and the endless network of walkways that pulsed blue in the darkness.

芒聙聹We have about 7 minutes before the smog fills our lungs so far that we suffocate.芒聙聺 Daemon said, pushing past Joe and hoisting himself onto the ledge. In his hand he held a thick rope. The pitted knot in Joe芒聙聶s stomach dreaded the purpose Daemon had in mind for it. Daemon grinned; pushing the folds of the rag upwards, his eyes glinted in the half light. 芒聙聹So we had better be quick芒聙聺 And then he jumped.

He was already on the roof of the walkway when Joe looked down. He was beckoning for Joe to follow. Joe sighed, manoeuvred himself onto the sill, and then tumbled into the swirling nothingness. He fell for what seemed years, at the mercy of the buffeting winds and stinging rain. He opened his mouth, and laughed. He was laughing for everything that he thought was lost, that he thought that he would never feel again. He had spent all those long years inside that rat run, and the things that he remembered from when he was a boy came in an irresistible flood back to him. All those things that he smelt, those things that he touched. His laugh however remained unheard- partly muffled by the oily rag tied around his mouth, partly snatched by the roaring wind. And then he landed.

The seconds that it had taken for him to fall fell away from him, and any breath in his lungs vanished. Slowly he got to his feet, gasping. Lit by the glow of the walkway beneath them, Daemon dragged him to his feet. 芒聙聹Move!芒聙聺 he commanded, his voice a rasping hiss. Joe moved. Bent low against the wind and rain, they ran. The smooth glass roof slipped beneath their feet, but Joe knew that they didn芒聙聶t have time for caution. They didn芒聙聶t have time even to look back. They just ran. And behind them, thrown into their ears by the wind, came the sound of wolves.

North was behind them, couching low in wolf form. His ears lay flat against his scalp, and although the wind buffeted his body, he was calm. His nostrils felt the scent of the two humans, smelt their fear. He had left the pack in the apartment. He was going to make this kill alone. He did not make a sound as he padded after them, and any sound that may have reached their ears would be carried off by the wind. He could see them now, two furtive figures, running as quickly as the elements would allow.

He gained on them, but the walkway was coming to a close, they were running out of roof. Ahead lay the thick, unforgiving wall that made the exterior of the next apartment building. North grinned. This was going to be fun. They had reached it- they had nowhere to go. They had turned and were facing him. North knew how fearsome he looked- he could guess how scared they were. He advanced slowly, enjoying the sickly smell of fear that was borne aloft by the wind. And then he saw it, saw what was going to happen. The little of him that was human told him that it would be suicide, that they would never survive it. The wolf in him told him that he wanted to be the one that killed them, not the elements. He saw that they both clutched a rope each. No, it was the same rope; they were holding different ends of it. With a bark and a ferocious gnashing of teeth, North leapt.

As one both the men toppled. Joe fell on the right side of the walkway, fell again into blackness. The rope tightened as Daemon, who was dangling on the other side of the walkway, reached the climax of his fall. They both lay suspended, with the rope flat on the roof of the walkway.

North meanwhile pawed at it, unwilling to cut the rope and let his prizes go that easily. The sadistic majority of him cried out for more blood. It had been so long since he had felt something living struggling in his jaws. He had even been contemplating eating his handler.

Daemon, hanging on the left side of the walkway, found the glass wall of it with his feet. He pushed, and he swung outwards, and then, swinging back in, broke the glass with his feet. He landed inside, with the wind whistling through the broken pane of glass and into the ghostly interior of the walkway. Joe felt the rope give as Daemon landed. Daemon looked up, and saw Joe dangling opposite, outside. His face, what was visible, was contorted in pure concentration. His mind and body was fighting nature, clinging onto the rope. Daemon swung round, the rope still in his hand. There was a handrail running down the centre of the walkway. Without hesitation, Daemon secured the rope to it. His friend stared at him, eyes pleading.

Above was North, directing his pack through the apartment building and into the walkway. Already Daemon could hear them, and, battle hardened as he was, the thought of them chilled him to the bone. He looked around quickly for something to break the glass, to get Joe back to safety. The two men had been together through so much in that past life, it brought tears to Daemon芒聙聶s eyes to think that he would lose Joe now. He found a fire extinguisher, and brought it crashing around, ploughing through the glass beside Joe. But he was too late.

At the other end of the walkway 10 Lycanthrope bounded into view. North, halfway across the roof, howled for them to wait. Joe was wheezing heavily when Daemon bundled him inside. They were nearing the end of the seven minutes that Daemon had predicted, and both of them could feel heaviness settle in their lungs. The filtration system already had to fight the amount of putrid air that spilled inside, but that was the least of their problems.

The pack had transformed, and was advancing slowly on them. 9 of them resembled a band of brigands- stitches of clothing clinging to the sinews of muscle of their human bodies. Only one stayed as a wolf.

Daemon, however, flung himself at the door behind him, dragging the half conscious Joe in his wake. It was locked. Daemon swore. It wasn芒聙聶t meant to end like this, in a walkway, mauled by Lycanthrope. He had come back to overthrow the government, to continue what he and Joe and the rest of them had started all those years ago. They had failed once, and he had failed before he had begun this time. He had though that it was going to be different, He had learnt so many things whilst he had been gone, things that would make him succeed, he was sure of it. He had been naive in the old days, and he had paid the price for it.

He looked at the grinning mob of creatures before him. Slowly, from his belt, he took and ancient looking pistol. A ripple of surprise passed through the Lycanthrope. Weaponry had been banned for centuries. Daemon aimed carefully at the nearest beast, and fired. The bullet sprang out of the muzzle, and honed toward its intended target, burrowing into the flesh. But that is all that it did. A bead of sweat formed at Daemon芒聙聶s brow. They looked human, but they still had unnaturally thick skin, thick enough to stop a bullet from causing damage. It must have hurt though, Daemon reasoned, and fired again. And again. And again. He aimed with cold deliberation, searching for a weakness and sending out a volley of shots. And then his gun clicked. He was out. He flung down the pistol calmly, and took out a knife, although he knew that his situation was hopeless. Call it moral support though.

North appeared at the doorway at the other end. The Lycanthrope laughed - until then they had just stood patiently, letting Daemon shoot at them. Joe stirred at his feet, opening his eyes slowly. Daemon smiled sadly down at him, but the smile was lost through the rag across his mouth. He was certain that he had brought Joe to his death. By him coming back, he had killed his closest friend on this earth.

North meandered towards them, in full brutish human form. The only wolf there was...- Daemon芒聙聶s mind leapt. So did the wolf. Eleven. There were eleven Lycanthrope, and Lycanthrope hunted and lived in packs of ten. There was another Lycanthrope, and the other ones did not know that he was not of their pack them, otherwise, Daemon reasoned, he would be dead. And right now he was leaping towards North芒聙聶s jugular.

North let rip a fearsome roar of pain and twisted, throwing the massive Lycanthrope off him and forming himself into a wolf. Daemon and Joe lay crumpled and forgotten by the door, all Lycanthrope turned to the newcomer. The two wolves circled each other, growling. 芒聙聵Stay back芒聙聶, North signalled. The Lycanthrope complied, forming a tight circle around the duelling wolves. They didn芒聙聶t know the origins of the newcomer, but they were eager to see him die.