Blood Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  Slater did not say anything and shifted his gaze uncomfortably away. Cheyenne looked at Glen.

  “There’s so much to tell, I better get started.” Everyone’s eyes turned to her and she sighed. She shook her head, hair falling over her shoulder.

  Then, with the help of Aurora and Rebel, she began to tell them.

  * * *

  Jason reached the residential parts of town and slowed the Camaro to a reluctant crawl and dimmed the headlights. He turned onto a small two-lane road, packed with parked cars and maneuvered his way through them. He could see the parking lot of Glen’s storefront up ahead. He was almost there.

  He was surprised to find it held more vehicles than Glen’s run-down old van. He recognized the red Dodge immediately as Cheyenne’s, but the other truck mystified him. He hadn’t really expected her to show up, but he was glad.

  He pulled the car into the place beside the truck and let the engine idle. Light poured out from the window on the door and onto the pavement. They knew he was here. He could see the outline of someone at the door and was sure it was Glen.

  Jason shut off the lights, turned the car off and stepped out. A cold chill hit his bare arms and he shivered. He didn’t even have a fucking coat. The silence after the heavy banging music was unsettling. The door opened and Glen stepped out.

  Glen approached him, naked from the chest up. Goosebumps dotted along his arms and he shivered as well. He lifted an eyebrow at Jason’s ride, clearly impressed.

  “Well, you certainly show up in style.” He flashed a bit of a grin. He gave Jason a tight, brotherly embrace. “Glad to see you got here all right.”

  “When did Cheyenne get here?” Jason asked when they broke the hug. He sensed none of the smugness he had anticipated from him. Glen wrapped his arms around himself. His breath came out in gasps and he couldn’t talk for his chattering teeth.

  “Not too long ago. She told us all about what happened.”

  Jason sighed. “I figured she would.” He wished she hadn’t. His hand touched the guns at his waistband absentmindedly.

  “Then she said you split. Where did you go?” Glen looked at him a bit suspiciously.

  Jason knew he should’ve anticipated the question, but it caught him off guard. He gave a nonchalant shrug, and tried to avoid the question by asking, “Why don’t we go inside?”

  Glen didn’t move from his spot, staring down at him with dark eyes. Jason took a deep breath. He knew what was coming. He had been wrong to think Glen wouldn’t lay it on him and tell him how wrong he had been. He braced himself for it.

  “Cheyenne told us, Jason, that you went after a group of hunters. I don’t need to guess why or what happened. Rose wasn’t there, was she?”

  “No,” he admitted. His eyes met Glen’s. “She wasn’t there. They didn’t know where she was, or where he was.” There was a pause. “Don’t you say it.”

  “Say what?” Glen asked.

  “That you told me so. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I wasn’t going to say it—”

  “You were thinking it. I like to think I know you a little better than that, Glen.”

  Glen sighed, his breath clinging to his lips a moment in visible fog. He narrowed his eyes slightly at Jason. He hesitated, appearing as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

  “All right. I won’t.”

  Jason somehow knew he wouldn’t live this down. He began walking to the door, and Glen followed. Jason glanced through the door and saw the familiar dark hair of Aurora and the sulky Rebel. He stopped.

  “She brought the kids?”

  “She had to, Jason. What was she going to do, leave them there? They don’t have anyone else in this world, except for us.”

  “I know. I told her to bring them, if I didn't come back." Jason paused. "I don't want any responsibility over them. I am in no position to take care of two pups.”

  Glen reached for the door to pull it open but stopped. “That’s not what you promised their mother.”

  “I made a promise to ease a dying woman’s suffering. That doesn’t mean—”

  “Do you always break your promises?” Glen asked.

  Jason fell silent. He let out a heated breath. “Now is not the time to bring Rose up like that—”

  “I’m not. But you did make a promise, not just to Rose.” Davis moved close to the door and Glen turned back. “Let’s not talk about it now.”

  He yanked open the door and they both entered. It was warm inside. Jason immediately felt it working on his chilled skin. He glanced around the room. Aurora and Rebel were seated on the couch, their heads turned to watch him enter while MTV played in the background. Davis leaned against the back of the couch and Cheyenne sat at the table, her feet propped up in a chair. The only person Jason didn’t know was the red-haired boy who looked at him as if he didn’t approve.

  He stopped short of the boy and took in his punk-style appearance.

  “Jason, this is Aaron Slater. He’s the kid I was telling you about,” Glen supplied. Slater gave a nod in Jason’s direction, but he didn’t nod back.

  “So, you’re the one who’s been tracking the hunters?”

  “That’s right,” Slater said tensely.

  For a moment, it looked as if the two would start fighting at any moment, but neither man moved. Finally Jason gave a short nod and said in a cold voice. “Looks like we have something in common then.”

  “Good to see you again,” Cheyenne’s voice said from behind him. Jason turned. She grinned up at him from her reclining position. “Hope you don’t mind, but I told your story to everyone.”

  “I do mind, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.” His voice was a bit terse. Cheyenne only lifted an eyebrow. He wouldn’t tell her about what happened with the hunters. He didn’t want to relive that tale.

  The kids had finally turned their attention back to the TV. Aurora occasionally turned her head to look behind her and listen in. Davis said nothing and Jason exchanged glances with him.

  “Did you find out anything?” Jason asked, returning his attention to Glen.

  “No, not about Simon anyway.” He filled a glass with tap water and handed it to Jason. He took it and looked at him in a confused way.

  “What do you mean you didn’t find anything about Simon?”

  “He’s good,” Davis spoke up. “It’s like he doesn’t exist…”

  Glen nodded. “He’s right. I couldn’t dig anything up on him. He covers his tracks.”

  Jason closed his eyes and felt his hand tense around the glass. It nearly cracked under the pressure and he put it on the table, not wanting it. He clenched his fists for a moment and dispelled his anger in a snort. His nostrils flared.

  “Guess that means we’re fucked, huh?” he said, after gathering a good measure of self-control.

  Glen merely stared at him. Jason turned his attention to Slater. “What about you? Do you know anything?”

  Slater seemed surprised that Jason would speak to him and he hesitated. His gaze moved from Glen, to Davis, and then to Aurora, who was no longer interested in the television.

  “I don’t know anyone named Simon. I’ve been tracking a few people, but I don’t have any hard evidence—”

  “So, that’s a no?”

  “Right,” Slater said and he sounded angry at being cut off so soon. Jason shook his head.

  “We have gotten nowhere. We’re even further from finding Rose than we ever were before,” Jason yelled. Aurora jumped. Cheyenne turned her eyes coldly to him.

  “Don’t blame us for your problems,” she told him, before anyone else had a chance to speak. “It’s not our fault that she was taken, so don’t take it out on us.”

  Glen, after goggling at her for speaking up before he did, nodded in agreement. “Cheyenne’s right. You’ve been taking your anger out on the wrong people, Jason, and I don’t mean the wrong hunters. I mean us.”

  Jason sneered at him. “I have the right to be ang
ry—”

  “So do I,” Glen reminded him. “She’s my cousin.” His eyes had taken on a golden hue that Jason knew only too well. His gaze left Glen and sought the others. Aurora was wide-eyed, looking scared. Her brother turned and surveyed Jason with quiet consideration.

  Davis and Slater both looked on edge, but no one said anything until Glen cleared his throat.

  “We have to work together, Jason. And you are going to have to start realizing that and stop blowing up at us. We won’t get her or Aidan back acting like this.”

  “I know.” Jason finally gave in. He was outnumbered and he didn’t want a fight. He was tired.

  “We came here to help,” Cheyenne said. She removed her feet from the chair that they’d been propped up on and stared hard at him. “And we can’t do that if you won’t let us.”

  Jason nodded.

  “We need to think of a plan.” Glen moved right into action, not wasting another moment. He reached across Cheyenne and grabbed a couple of the radios. He tossed one to Davis, who was startled that he actually caught it, and another to Slater.

  “Check them out and see if they work. If they need batteries, I have a stock of them in the drawer under the sink.” Glen pointed to the drawer. “We’ll have to use them if we separate at any time.”

  Cheyenne reached forward and took a radio and fumbled with the knobs. A look of concentration caused a line to form between her brows. Jason watched her for a moment before speaking to Glen again.

  “Do we even have a plan?”

  “No,” Glen answered quickly. “I’m working on it.”

  “Well, you better make it fast.” Jason removed one of his guns from his waistband and ejected the clip, studying it. He put it down and grabbed another one from the table. Glen raised an eyebrow at him.

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. I want Simon dead as soon as possible. I can’t wait to see his smirking face turned to bloody pulp,” Jason said grimly as he slapped the clip back into the grip of his gun and stared down the sight. “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Claire’s heart stopped pounding, but her palms were sweaty. They slid all over the steering wheel. Her eyes darted back to the rearview mirror. She saw nothing through the window at the back of the van, but she was far from feeling relief.

  Her ankle hurt whenever she moved it and she had twisted her wrist painfully when she fell. She was still cursing herself for nearly slipping up. It had been a lucky escape.

  Claire fought with herself on whether to turn back or not. Had they recaptured Rose, or did she somehow get away? She had seen her silhouette in the dark, running from the warehouse, but had Simon pursued? As much as she wanted to help Rose, she could not go back. She could not face Simon.

  She let out a sharp breath. She felt horrible and found herself more than once turning the steering wheel toward an exit to head back but she always passed the exit and kept going. More and more miles were put between them. She couldn’t help Rose, not now.

  Claire didn’t like the anxiety she felt now. She kept checking the mirrors, but there was nothing behind her. She was safe, for the moment.

  But what was she going to do?

  After all her hours of careful planning and her potential foul-up, Claire was at a loss now for what to do. She had been driving for what seemed like hours, without any direction. She didn’t know where to go, what to do, who to trust. She racked her stressed brain, trying to come up with a new plan.

  A road sign up ahead indicated the next exit and Claire looked down at the gauges. She was low on fuel so she pulled into the far right lane and turned off. It was time for a much needed bathroom break anyway. She sighed as she pulled the van into the first gas station she came to. The brakes of the hulking vehicle squeaked as she brought it to a stop at the pump.

  She winced as she stepped out. The pain in her ankle was horrible. She clenched her teeth together and balanced on one foot as she pumped the gas. She limped inside and paid, used the facilities then limped back to the van. Once inside, she stretched out her leg and pulled the cuff of her jeans up. She sucked in a harsh breath as she surveyed the damage.

  Her ankle was an ugly shade of purple and red. It was nearly twice the size it normally was. She was surprised that her shoe even fit. She massaged the ankle gently with her cold fingertips. She knew it would need to be elevated once she got to someplace secure and more permanent than the van.

  Claire moved the denim back over the ankle, covering the ugliness of the swelling and lowered it gently. Though her moves were slow and calculated, the heel of her foot upset some of the clutter on the floorboard. A box half-filled with equipment fell over and the contents spilled everywhere.

  “Fuck!” She bent to retrieve the items. Her hand closed around one of the handheld radios and a flash of inspiration went off inside her head. Her heart began to pound as she pulled it up and into the light. Her fingers trembled as she removed the cover and checked the batteries. She clicked it on and it crackled to life.

  “Oh, thank God.” She breathed. She had remembered the band of hunters Sean had been obsessing over during their trip to the warehouse. The band had never contacted him. It was an option Claire had not thought of before. If they were still out there, perhaps she could get in contact with them. Sure they were hunters, but once she told them of Simon and his plan, they would have to help her.

  It seemed too hopeful to work, but she had little choice. She adjusted the channel dial, pressed down and spoke into it.

  “Hello? Hello? Requesting emergency assistance. Someone please come in. Over.”

  It crackled as she released it and listened. A few moments passed and no answer. She tried again. An uncomfortable lump formed in her stomach as she listened to the silence.

  Figuring that there were other channels for a reason, Claire turned the dial again and spoke in a wavering voice.

  “Requesting emergency assistance. Come in. Over.”

  What if they wouldn’t answer? What if someone else picked up? What if it was Simon? Claire swallowed her fear. Anyone answering at all would be better than if he did. She prayed that their only radios were here in the van, with her.

  She put the radio on the seat beside her and started the engine. Claire brought the van out of the gas station and turned back onto the interstate. She drove on and the silence was punctuated only when she took up the radio to try a new channel.

  * * *

  “What do I do if my radio doesn’t work?” Davis asked from across the room. He turned the radio on, but it was silent. Glen sighed.

  “Did you replace the batteries?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then it’s no good. Trash it.”

  Davis shrugged and tossed the radio aside.

  “Hey, wait.” Slater grabbed it from the floor. His dark eyes stared at Davis a bit angrily, then to Glen. “I can fix this.”

  Glen’s eyebrows shot up.

  Jason, who was seated at the table, gave a hoarse chuckle. “You can?”

  “Yeah. I just need a screwdriver and some pliers maybe.” Slater inspected the radio. “Might be able to fix it.”

  “Then have fun. Tools are in the drawer,” Glen said. He watched Slater rummage through the drawer and then turned his attention to the rest of the radios. “If you get that one working, maybe you can fix the rest of them.”

  “Maybe,” Slater answered distractedly. He had already begun taking the radio apart.

  Cheyenne, Rebel and Aurora sat on the couch. There was nothing much on this late at night and Rebel dozed with his head against the back of the couch. Aurora was curled up with her head on Cheyenne’s shoulder. Both females were bleary-eyed and bored.

  Davis moved across the floor and sat in the chair next to Jason. He studied him, but said nothing. His sullen stares were enough to silence anyone. Davis watched him for a moment and their eyes met.

  Jason’s eyes were blood-shot, no doubt from lack of sleep and too much worry. He arc
hed an eyebrow and set his lips in a straight line until they lost most of their color. Davis turned away. He wouldn’t push him into talking. They still weren’t on good terms.

  Instead, Davis turned his gaze to Slater, who had taken apart one of the radios and was working with the wires. Slater, like Jason, did not speak much. He spoke to Glen, answered questions when someone asked, but was for the most part silent. He had been brooding in the corner most of the evening. Davis wondered if things between them had settled. Their conversation had been cut short by the arrival of Cheyenne and the kids and Davis wasn’t entirely sure where they stood. He could understand if Slater still wanted to kill him. He wouldn’t have blamed him one bit for that.

  Cheyenne flipped through channels on the TV. Aurora had finally fallen asleep. Her head lolled against Cheyenne’s shoulder, her mouth open slightly and her breathing a bit heavier. She settled on a comedy special and watched it with the volume turned low.

  Glen took a deep drink from his glass of water and looked to Jason. For a long time they stared at each other without saying a word. Tensions ran high. Time was running out for Rose and Aidan.

  Jason finally sighed and pushed back the half finished bottle of beer he had steadily been drinking. “It’s hopeless, Glen. We have no plan, no information to go on…”

  “Don’t say it,” Glen warned, standing from his chair.

  “…Rose is as good as dead…”

  “Don’t you fucking say it,” Glen warned.

  Rebel and Aurora both jumped awake and they turned to face him. His eyes blazed, staring hard at Jason, whose face was bleak.

  “I have not given up hope and I will not allow you to.” He clenched his fist at his side.

  “But we have nothing, Glen,” Jason yelled. He stood, pushing at the table as he did so. He upset the bottles and equipment and sent them falling to the floor and rolling everywhere. “We have nothing. We don’t know anything about Simon or where the headquarters is. We are never going to find her.”