A Werewolf's Saga Books 1, 2, & 3 (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets)

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A Werewolf's Saga Books 1, 2, & 3 (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets) Page 11

by Michael Lampman


  Hearing her only caused all of the blood in his body to rush to his face. He left the counter and joined her at the doors. There, he reached for the door handle and opened the left one for her with a gracious stride. He always believed that being a gentleman was the key to his life, and he liked the fact that she waited for him to do it.

  “I really appreciate this Jim.” She pulled her bag over her left shoulder.

  “Jimmy please.” He smiled.

  “Sure. Jimmy.” Seeing that he looked much more relaxed tonight, she decided to ask some normal, friendly questions. “How do you like working here so far?” She walked outside to the sidewalk, stopped there, and waited for him to join her.

  “It’s not bad.” He followed her out onto the sidewalk, and shrugged. He had other things on his mind. “With all of this going on, I can’t blame you for wanting company.” He heard his voice and he couldn’t believe what he sounded like. He sounded so normal. He sounded so strong. He liked the feeling, and all that he heard, and couldn’t believe that he was actually saying it. What’s so different? He didn’t know, but he also didn’t care, but just enjoyed it.

  She nodded, still smiling. “Everything seems like a mess.” She stopped just off the curb to the lot. “Do you know what all of this is about?” A security patrol car just left the parking lot, went around the side of the building on their right, and disappeared. With its dark blue color and bright yellow stripe down the side of it, no one could have missed it.

  “I don’t know much.” He shook his head. “I guess something got out.”

  “Really? Did they say what?”

  He shook his head again, and shrugged his shoulders strongly with it. He, quite frankly, didn’t know anything at all. “No. I don’t know.”

  “Well that would explain a lot.” She began moving again, and started out to her car on the other side of the vans. She hated that they were always there. They blocked the view of her car.

  He continued walking with her, side by side. “So what do you do here?”

  “I’m one of the lead researchers.” She walked slowly.

  He kept up with her stride for stride. “What are you researching?” he asked, and only after he did so, he regretted asking it. It was obviously none of his business.

  “We’ve been looking into healing capabilities of a new drug we’ve been working on. It shows a lot of promise.” She smiled. With the moonlight over them, it made her look like she was sparkling.

  Listening to her answer, he decided to ask something further. “What does that have to do with Collins?” What in the hell, Jimmy? He bowed his head. Collins was obviously on his mind more than he originally thought he was.

  “Who?” They reached the front of one of the vans and stopped.

  “Collins.” His mind paused as his heart stopped. He wasn’t so sure if he should have mentioned the name; after all, they were looking for him. He already said that he didn’t see him. She worked there, so that meant that she might be looking for him too. That changed, when he thought about it further. She didn’t recognize his name. If she didn’t, then she doesn’t know who he is. So, his heart started again.

  “I’ve never heard of a Collins before.” She turned to him, and looked deeply into his eyes. She also shook her head to prove her point.

  He looked at her and could see, even with the dim light around them, nothing but wonder in her eyes. And, God what beautiful eyes she has.

  “Does he work here?”

  Hearing her, he felt confused as well. “He works in the back labs, two intersections from you.”

  She turned and brought her head down.

  He could see that she was obviously thinking.

  “There’s no one that works in that part of the building.” She brought her eyes back up to his. “That’s the area where we keep some of the animals that we used to do research on,” she paused again, “If that’s the area that I’m thinking of.”

  He shrugged, and now felt, more than ever, that he went too far. If she didn’t know about Collins, than he probably shouldn’t know about him either. “Maybe I got the name wrong.” He tried to think and had to pull himself out of the hole that he was obviously digging himself into, and it made him have to backtrack some and fast. “I’ve met so many people here that I’m having trouble remembering all of their names.” He laughed trying to show her that he was truly mistaken. He could only hope that it worked.

  She responded to everything with a simple nod. Everything he said did make some amount of sense. “Yeah, well, I can understand that.” She left it at that. She turned and headed across the front of the van, passed the second one, and made her way to the driver’s side of her car.

  He sighed with relief as he followed her, watched her open the door, and sit behind the wheel.

  “Thank you again for your company.” She started the engine.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled again with a flash, and watched her close the door. He then watched her slowly pull off, drive across the parking lot, and leave out onto the entrance road. He stood there, until she was gone.

  That was close. He felt himself relax. He couldn’t believe how far that almost went. God Jimmy you are such an idiot! He turned and started out across the front of the two vans. Why did you say that? He crossed the parking lot and stepped up to the sidewalk. You shouldn’t have said it. You’re so stupid sometimes. You should’ve known better. He walked down the sidewalk, moving slowly. That’s it. I’m just going to do my job. Enough of this. I’m going to do my job and just go home. He stopped as a sound came on the wind. It caught his attention instantly, and froze him place. What in the hell is that? It sounded like someone calling his name. The sound came with such a subtly that it almost sounded like nothing but a whisper. With the crickets singing, it was hard to be sure, if he heard anything at all.

  “Who’s there?” He turned to his left. Bushes, shrubs, and a few small trees were the only things there. They ran along the front of the building, and with them, it was hard to see anything at all within them.

  Shadows were everywhere, and nothing but darkness was everywhere with them.

  “Jimmy.”

  He heard it again. The sound came soft. He almost didn’t recognize it as words. However, he did hear it, he was almost sure of it.

  “Who’s there?” He left the sidewalk, and moved towards the bushes and trees.

  “Come here.”

  There it is again. “Collins?” He stepped onto the lawn, and stepped to the bushes. What in the hell is he doing? He stopped and strained to look. With the shadows, he couldn’t see anything. “Is that you?” Who else would it be? Why is he hiding? What’s he doing? It had to be him.

  “Come here.” The whisper came, and this time, the bushes shook some to his left.

  He walked to the sound, and to where he saw the flutter. He stepped closer, until he stopped in front of a small tree, only inches from him. The deep shadows behind it made it difficult to see if anything was there.

  “Collins? Is that you?” He bent down and tried to bring himself closer to the underbrush. Being this close to them, he did see something, or someone move. It has to be him. He was now sure of it. “Collins?”

  The movement was big enough to be a man. It was just so dark, and hard to see what or who it was.

  Bending down, coming to the bottom of the bushes, something came out so quickly that he couldn’t react to it. All he saw was a mass of black, and something that could only have been fur. All he felt was a sharp pain flare through him like a thunderbolt. It clamped down hard onto his left hand, and caused a shot of instant, piercing agony to flow through his wrist.

  He pulled away from the bushes quickly, tripped some, and almost fell backwards, but didn‘t. Stumbling, he screamed out with the pain racing up his arm and up into his shoulder. He took his left hand into his right, backed away further, and looked to his wrist.

  Blood was everywhere. It covered him completely from fingertip to elbow. With it all, fear gr
ipped him instantly. Whatever grabbed him, he could see that it did a world of damage to him.

  With his heart pounding, he left the sidewalk, ran back to the front doors, and pulled them open quickly.

  He ran into the lobby, and looked to his wrist. The blood oozed out of everywhere. It ran down his arm, and dripped off his elbow. Fuck me hard! He could feel his panic also beginning to grow. His whole arm flared with heat. Numbness followed the hot. He looked around the room. I have to do something. I have to do it now. I’m bleeding to death. What do I do? What the fuck do I?

  He looked to the left of the counter, and looked to the men’s room plaque. He saw it and nodded.

  He ran to it quickly. He ran inside, and went straight to the counter that ran along the wall to the right.

  He went to the first of the three faucets in the counter and turned the cold water on to full.

  He slid his arm under the faucet and let the coldness of the water consume his arm.

  Slowly, he could feel the heat begin to subside. Slowly, his heart followed and started beating normally again. His breathing likewise calmed. With it all, he took a deep and cherished breath.

  “What in the hell was that?” He now had the time to think. He now had the ability to question. Everything happened so fast that nothing was able to register in his mind fully.

  He continued running his arm under the water, until he could feel the cold quench his hand. He watched as the blood flowed off his arm and down the drain. With the blood gone, he could now see the wound.

  What in the hell? He saw what looked like several indents through his skin. It looked almost like a bite. What in the hell would bite me?

  He rolled his arm over and looked at the underside of his wrist.

  Again, several neat punctures were through his skin, and each mark lined up into an almost perfect horseshoe sized half circle, which crossed his entire arm. Whatever bit him, it looked huge. Only one possibility crossed his mind. I wonder if that’s what killed those people. A chill raced down his spine. I better go and tell someone. He pulled his arm out of the water stream, turned and reached for a towel in the aluminum dispenser to the right of the sink. He took a single towel, and then two, and then three, and wrapped them around his wrist. Instantly, his blood soaked through the brown colored paper, and seeing it, he went for more.

  Again, he wrapped the extra towels around his arm, and yet again, he noticed the blood color its way through the paper. Goddamn it!

  He went for more towels. It just didn’t want to stop bleeding. He removed the towels, and pushed his arm back under the water.

  Feeling the cold rush over him, he kept it there longer this time around. He knew that he had to flush out the wound more. It made sense.

  It felt good. It must have worked, because this time it stopped. The blood clotted and the punctures settled. Seeing it, and feeling it, he brought it out of the sink. It felt better. It felt almost normal. The pain felt completely gone.

  Satisfied, he rewrapped the wound with fresh towels, and this time, saw no blood flowing through them. Relaxed, he finally looked to himself in the mirror.

  His face looked pale, his eyes looked wide, and it made him take another deep breath. What do I do now? He tried to force his jumbled thoughts together long enough to be able to figure out what to do next. I have to call for help. I have to tell them about what happened. I may have to go to the hospital. He had so many options roaming around inside his head. I have to do something. He groped, but decided that the best thing that he could do first was to address the wound. It stopped bleeding, but the possibility of it becoming infected came rolling into his thoughts. It seemed like a good idea, so he went with it.

  He breathed, left the bathroom, and walked back to the lobby. He remembered them telling him about a first aid kit that was behind the counter in a locker along the wall, so he went to the counter, found the kit right where it was supposed to be, and grabbed it. He left the counter and headed back to the bathroom, carrying the kit with him.

  He placed the kit next to the sink, opened it up, and took out some gauze pads and tape. Quickly, he addressed his wrist. Already it felt better. Already he relaxed even more. He used the gauze and wrapped them over the wound. He took tape and wrapped it around the gauze. When he finished, he closed the case and again turned back to the mirror.

  Already he could see that he had color coming back into his cheeks. His eyes started to glean. He looked better than normal. Now what do I do? He stared deeply into his own dark eyes.

  “We have it cornered,” a voice came from somewhere around him.

  It almost caused him to jump at the mirror. Hearing it, with nothing but static around it, he knew that it had to be coming from the radio that he carried on his belt.

  With his right hand, he removed the black heavy radio and brought it up to the counter next to him, and turned the volume up.

  “This is unit four. We see it now. We’re making our way to the east of the building now to join unit two,” a new voice came over the speaker.

  He had never heard the man’s voice before.

  “Remember that I want him alive,” another voice came over the speaker.

  This one he recognized as the older man with the white hair, and the fine, nice suit, that he saw the night before. He was the one that led the group. He was the one that questioned Collins.

  “It’s moving east, trying to make its way to the perimeter fence,” the original voice said as the radio clicked.

  He looked back to the mirror. If they’ve already found it, should I still tell them that it bit me? He stared deeply at his face. He looked better than he has in days—weeks even.

  “We see it now,” a second, new voice came in.

  “Trap it,” the older man’s voice flashed. “We’re coming up to you now.”

  The radio clicked again.

  “We have it,” the first voice started, but a heavy popping sound flared out through the speaker, and cut it off.

  The sound made him jump, sounding like a firecracker going off near the microphone. Just then, a crashing feeling raked through his back almost at the same time as he heard the sound. It stung him. It almost burned right through him, and knocked him forwards to the counter. He felt winded instantly, felt dazed, and lost all of his breaths. What the fuck? His mind flared with thunder, but thankfully, it didn’t last long. As soon as it came, it stopped. Because of it, he caught his breaths, and looked back up to the mirror. He saw his face and took a deep hefty breath. Instantly, he felt better. With what happened, he had no damn idea.

  “It’s down! It’s down!” the original voice shouted into the radio, sounding muffled and very heavy with static.

  “Damn it, I wanted it alive!” the older man shouted in.

  Again, he jumped with the sound, but this time he stayed normal. The knocking feeling didn’t come back, so he calmed even more.

  “It isn’t moving,” a new voice came in.

  He recognized it as the blonde haired guy with the big build, and the voice caused a shiver to course down his spine.

  The radio clicked, and then went silent.

  Now, all he could hear was himself breathing. He looked down at the radio with his mind still blazing. They killed it! He stared at it with wide eyes. What he thought made sense, so he nodded. He took another deep breath, and looked back to his wrist.

  The wound looked clean. It looked neat. He looked back up to the mirror. If they killed it, then maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe I should just keep quiet. The thought seemed natural, and it seemed to make sense. Already the pain felt completely gone. Already he felt better. What purpose was there to go to a hospital? He could do everything himself.

  He turned to the first aid kit and picked it up. He was about to leave, but quickly noticed that blood covered all over the countertop. Oh, shit. I can’t leave this like this. He set the case back down, went back to the dispenser on the wall, removed several towels from it, and quickly cleaned up the blood. While doing
that, he looked down and noticed that there were even more drops on the floor. Quickly, he took care of those as well. When he finished, he looked all around the room, and saw nothing. It looked clean, so he picked up the kit and left the bathroom, went back to the lobby, and noticed even more blood on the floor by the front doors. He took more towels from the bathroom and cleaned up anything that looked like blood.

  Finished and satisfied that he cleaned everything; he went back into the bathroom and looked over his uniform. Luckily, he was wearing a short sleeve shirt. There wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere on him. That was good. It wouldn’t be noticed.

  He took the kit back to the locker, retook his chair behind the counter, and took a deep heavy breath. He did everything, and didn’t break a sweat.

  16

  He did the best that he could do and avoided everyone for the rest of the night. With all that happened outside, he didn’t have any trouble doing it. He stayed inside, and completed his night as he always did.

  When he finished his last tour, he simply finished his paperwork and waited for his relief to come to work. No one ever noticed him. No one noticed the wrapping on his arm. No one ever questioned him. No one said a word. When Frankie came in, he simply filled him in on everything that he needed to know. He didn’t say much. He kept it simple, and when he finished, he simply went home.

  He made it there a little after eight. He didn’t even remember the drive. He felt too tired to care.

  Once home, he took off his uniform and went straight to bed. The wound didn’t seem to bother him in the least. It didn’t even hurt. In fact, it felt like it wasn’t even there. In bed, it didn’t even take him all that long to fall asleep.

  Drifting off, his mind went completely numb. He thought about nothing, until he could see himself running through the trees. He felt like he was running through an old forest. It felt like a forest that he had been in before. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t understand it. Quite frankly, he didn’t even care.

 

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