The next day was cloudy and overcast. A uniform grey sheet hung over the mountains. It was the day before full moon. The Special Industrial Zone was an empty wasteland. All the shops were chained up behind heavy steel rollers and the factories were shuttered.

All the roads leading out to the pack territories were clogged with traffic as people tried to get back home in time. All Interpack bus routes were running extra services. I had workers handing out road safety pamphlets at the main entrance of the bus station.

Traffic was heavy on the main road out of the western end of the Zone. Mopeds and bicycles buzzed and whizzed through gaps in the congestion. We were inching along.

We had stopped behind a the sheer rear end of a Toyota Alphard minivan with Stone River plates. The first five letters on the badge had been rather crudely ripped off, leaving only an R and a D.

Brian was at the wheel of the Moon Goddess.

"Careful on the brakes, Brian. Just a gentle touch. Gentle."

The brake lights of the Alphard - or the RD as I now thought of it - came on again.

The car jerked noticeably as we came to a standstill, bobbing on its cushion of hydraulic fluid.

"Brian. I said careful."

"I was careful."

"Remember, it's not a normal brake pedal. It's just like an on/off switch. You only need the lightest touch."

"Jim, I know that. You've told me about ten times since we set off."

"Alright. Don't pull a Mitt Romney, that's all I ask of you."

I relaxed back into my seat.

We were very slowly inching past a plot of barren land, an old rogue shanty town that had recently been demolished with the intention for redevelopment. Shiny posters with slick graphics of towering apartment blocks poked out of the bare earth at regular intervals.

Brian looked in the side mirror at a black Mercedes several car lengths behind us. "At least there's someone else with good taste in cars in this jam."

There was a huge marble statue of Monagh sprouted out of the ground like some obscene mushroom. The message LET HER INTO YOUR HEART was engraved in gold letters on the base of the statue,

Brian rolled his eyes.

"Give her a break, Brian. Have some decency. Look at the state of things. She's probably working flat out up there."

"She doesn't exist!"

"I imagine her office is like a facsimile of Tony Montana's. Except the whole desk is made of cocaine."

"She probably doesn't even have a sense of humor."

"Of course she has a sense of humour, Brian. She made silver our weakness. Silver! Us, the group of people on earth least likely to ever pick up a chemistry textbook!

"Look at us now. Reduced to squabbling over stupid things like this."

"Don't have any delusions, Brian. We've always been like this. Even in the days when the moon temples were still used we were a bunch of petty bastards."

"There is no original thought. Just hordes of brainless zombies waiting for instructions."

My attention was drawn to a commotion on the roadside. A set of private security guards had surrounded an old rogue clad in rags.

Brian shot me a look that said don't do this. I didn't answer, as I stepped out of the car.

The earth, freshly disturbed and soft, sank under my feet as I slowly walked towards tableau unfolding in front of me.

The group didn't notice as I approached, continuing in their cruelty, not until I grabbed the nearest guard by the scruff of his neck and flung him backwards.

"What the-" He didn't finish his sentence as I sank my fist into his face.

"You're what? Nineteen? Twenty? And you're beating up old folks on the job? Bloody Monagh." I was aware of the statue watching over me in the distance, but at this point I didn't really care.

"Get lost, rogue-lover," they yelled back. Then they realised who I was.

They bowed their heads in submission. "Sorry, Alpha. We are sorry. Alpha Ronan told us to get rid of anyone who returned."

I stared at the sorry tableau in front of me. "No. You're not sorry."

"Yes, Alpha."

This was hopeless.

I shifted my attention to the old man. "Where are your people?"

"What would you care, alpha? Why would you?" the old rogue replied.

"Where did they go?"

The old rogue had crawled into a roughly dignified position on the ground. He sifted at the earth in desperation. "I don't know. They tore it all down. In the middle of the night. Didn't even get told to leave. They just came in their bulldozers."

A few paces away, the trio were still cowering on the ground in submission.

"Rise," I ordered. "Get up. Stop groveling there on the ground. Get up and look me in the eye."

One by one they slowly raised their heads and locked eyes with me.

"Come on. Get up!"

They slowly rose from their crouched position on the ground, not daring to make eye contact."No, no, no! I told you to get up and stand straight and look me in the eye, dammit!"

I grabbed the nearest offender by the scruff of his shirt and drew him close, until his face was almost touching mine. He offered no resistance, paralysed by fear.

"TALK TO ME!" I yelled. "Say something. Give me something. Anything."

"Y-yes Alpha." The young man looked to be on the verge of passing out.

"You can't even have some common decency, leave an old man alone, an old man who's lost his everything?"

"He's a-" he croaked out.

The hand grasping his shirt shook violently. "He's a what? A rogue? What does that matter to you? Respect your elders, weren't you taught that when you were a pup? what in bloody Monagh's name happened to that? It doesn't matter if he is a rogue or your alpha. He is older than you are. He has done more, seen more things than you ever will. Respect him."

I dropped him to the floor. "Look at you. You're pitiful. Stand up for yourselves. Nineteen years old and you're like a bunch of zombies. Fuck."

"To hell with what your alpha says. He is not the master of your fate or the captain of your soul. You are. Now take this old man to the hospital."

"Yes, Alpha," they repeated, almost in unison, I watched as the wolves carried the old rogue away, becoming smaller and smaller with distance. The white tower of the hospital stood prominently in the distance, the red cross hovering above the smog and the factory smokestacks.

I looked up like the endless grey sky. The air smelled of petrol fumes and chemicals. Plastic billboards sprouted from the earth like toadstools. The dry, freshly disturbed earth my feet seemed to be sinking into, strewn with belongings which once meant something to people. The metallic-brown teardrop shape of the Moon Goddess looked completely out of place in the midst of all the anodyne boxes that surrounded it.

For a moment, I felt faint. Then the sense of gravity kicked back in and I felt again somewhat planted on the ground.

Brian didn't say a word as I got back in the car. We sat in stony silence, staring stony-faced at the traffic ahead.