Get Bent! (The Hybrid of High Moon Book 1)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Her words were interrupted by that chuffing laugh Craig seemed to be fond of.

  I glanced toward him to find his eyes, or eye anyway, locked on me. I guess he finished howling at some point while I was having a discussion with...

  The street behind him was empty once more. Riva was gone, as if she’d never been there, which was probably the case. Still, a small part of me felt sad that her hallucination hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

  Turning back to Craig, I saw his hand ready to gut me as my feet continued to dangle in mid-air a good four feet above the ground, putting them almost level with...

  I remembered back to my original encounter with these werewolves – beating the first one, then running into a whole bunch of them. The big wolf who’d approached me, I’d been unaware at the time that he was my father because otherwise I wouldn’t have kicked him in the...

  Riva’s words echoed in my mind. “All things are possible beneath a blood moon.”

  Perhaps that counted for repeat performances, too.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  In the split second before Craig gutted me, I lashed out with my leg. There wasn’t time to aim, or even pull back so as to get a little extra momentum going. That was fine, though. After all, Riva said the blood moon empowered me as much as it did the wolves.

  So let’s hope it empowers this enough to send his nuts into orbit!

  My foot hit home, the soft fur on Craig’s crotch easily giving way to the not so soft parts within.

  Eww!

  The sick fucker had been sporting a stiffie as he’d been about to rip me open. Well, with any luck, I’d just turned his wood into a pile of sawdust.

  The world seemed to slow down for a split second as Craig’s eye bulged out of his head and I suddenly found myself dropping to the ground.

  Everything still hurt like hell, and my vision kept losing focus, but even a blind man would have had a hard time missing the wall of furry flesh in front of me.

  Ignoring my pain and focusing instead on the blood moon, I imagined the red light raining down from it as some sort of power boost meant only for me – kind of like from the comic books my brother enjoyed. No way was I telling him that, though. The little asshole would never shut up about it.

  I pushed aside thoughts of my baby brother and let my fist fly, giving the gander’s gut a taste of what he’d given the goose a few moments earlier. Beaten as I was, I half-expected to break my hand against Craig’s stomach, but I underestimated myself. A whoosh of air escaped from his lungs and he doubled over, again silencing the howls of the wolves around us. Ah, sweet silence. I, for one, had no intention of hearing them again this night.

  I stepped in, planning on breaking Craig’s jaw before he could recover, but was stopped in my tracks when he opened his mouth wide and projectile vomited all over me.

  Fucking gross!

  For a moment, I was terrified that this was some new previously unseen werewolf attack, but then, as the foul gorge of bile and meat chunks washed over me, I realized I’d just hit him harder than I thought.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been puked on. Heck, I was a college student. Getting yakked on by drunken friends was practically a rite of passage. That said, nothing could have prepared me for a shower of werewolf barf. In that moment, I was certain that if I lived to be a hundred and took three baths a day for the rest of my life, I still would never be clean again.

  On the upside, it’s not like I had a boyfriend to worry about anymore, although I wouldn’t have minded giving the cheating bastard a big hug at that moment.

  Sadly, being drenched in Craig’s last meal – please don’t let it be someone I know – was more than enough distraction for him to recover.

  He launched himself forward, a locomotive of muscle and fur. There was no way to dodge in time. Craig slammed into me and both of us went tumbling back onto my front lawn.

  I hit the ground hard and saw stars, the grass doing little to soften the blow to the back of my head. Even dazed, however, I had enough years of training in me to know to get my knees up before he could pin me. This was no match, but if that happened, then it was over.

  As it was, I just barely got them up in time as he fell upon me, and even then it did little to negate the massive size advantage that my uncle had. It was just enough to keep his snapping jaws from closing directly on my face.

  Putrid bile was still dripping from his maw, causing my own stomach to churn. If I threw up now, I’d have to fight Craig while battling to not choke on my own puke.

  My uncle, however, didn’t seem interested in giving either of our innards time to settle. I think we’d finally reached the point where he didn’t care how he won so long as I ended up dead.

  As he pressed down upon me, I was stuck, unable to do much save fend off his grasping claws. It was a losing battle. He was on top and my legs were pinned between us, but I had no leverage with which to shove him off. Worse, I felt him trying to inch up my body, no doubt hoping to get far enough so as to negate my meager defenses and properly use his teeth on me.

  Shit! Unfortunately, being covered in wolf bile left me a bit more slippery than usual. As I grasped hold of Craig’s wrists in an attempt to keep from being shredded, he slid up further on me and I could only watch as his jaws came at my face.

  I was certain that was it, but his teeth clicked shut on nothing, barely an inch away. One more push from him and that would be it. I did the only thing I could think of – threw my own head forward and head-butted him right in the snout.

  His nose, as it turned out, was cold, wet, and pretty darned sensitive.

  Craig lifted off me for a second and let out a choking cough as he raised his hands to cradle his injured muzzle.

  Seeing an opening I wasn’t likely to get again, I rolled over and pushed off, hoping to put some distance between us. Sadly, he wasn’t that badly hurt. His massive hands grabbed hold of me before I could get more than a few feet.

  For a moment, I feared it was game over, but being covered in puke worked both ways. I slipped out of his grasp before he could drag me back. Who’d have ever guessed being coated in bile could be a life saver?

  Sadly, my balance was off, so I merely ended up stumbling a few more steps before falling on my face again, finally coming to a rest in front of my mother’s rose bushes and the stupid gnomes staring mirthfully at me from around them.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.” Behind me, I could hear Craig scrambling my way. “If you guys have any advice, now would be a good time.”

  Heck, hallucinatory Riva had said that anything was possible under a blood moon. So maybe that included these stupid things lending me a hand.

  Wait a second...

  Maybe they already had.

  Just barely managing to push myself up to my knees, I realized what a mess I was – cut, bleeding, pretty much one gigantic bruise, and drenched in puke. But, for all the checkmarks against me, I wasn’t ready to die yet. After tonight, I was fairly certain the pack wouldn’t forget me anytime soon, but I wanted that to go double for my fucking creep of an uncle.

  I reached for the gnome closest to me and grabbed it by its conical hat just as I heard the snarl that told me Craig was right behind me. With no options left, I turned and swung with everything I had, feeling the surprisingly heavy weight of the little garden statue in my hands.

  The gnome impacted against the side of Craig’s head, shattering and sending teeth flying. I was left with nothing but the shaft of its pointed hat still in my hands as my uncle staggered back several steps, dazed by the blow.

  His blind eye was to me, but it wouldn’t be for long. I quickly shook off the surprise that my attack had actually worked. There wasn’t a moment to spare.

  Twirling the gnome hat in my hands so that the pointy end faced out, I leapt at my uncle just as he recovered. His jaws opened and a roar of pure rage came bellowing out, one that was instantly muffled as I rammed the business end of the stone hat into his mouth.
>
  I wrapped my legs around his body and grabbed hold of the back of his head so as to steady myself and, more importantly, give my arms some leverage. With my other hand, I pushed as hard as I could, calling upon every last bit of strength my strange biology and the blood moon afforded me.

  Craig tried to close his mouth as I shoved the hat into the back of his throat. A few more inches and he’d sever my arm unless...

  With one final scream, I put everything I had left into it. My uncle gave one last choked growl and then the bloodied point of the hat erupted from the base of his skull.

  For a moment, he stood there motionless, with me hanging off of him. Then his body began to spasm and we both toppled over onto the ground.

  CHAPTER 40

  I didn’t allow myself the luxury of a nice nap there on the grass, as much as I wanted to take one.

  No. If I did that, everything I’d just endured would be in vain. Forcing a neutral expression onto my face, I sat up and turned toward Craig, relieved to see his remaining eye glazed over and staring sightlessly up at the night sky. He was dead as the proverbial doorknob. I felt bad that it had come to this, but he’d chosen his path.

  Now to make sure I didn’t follow him.

  I couldn’t show weakness to the wolf pack. So, I bit my tongue to contain the scream of pain that wanted to come flying out, and pushed myself to my feet.

  What a surprise, I saw werewolves, lots of them. Even the ones that had been busy making a mess on my block had stopped to gawk. The looks on their faces said it all – wide eyes, open mouths, unblinking stares – disbelief. Who was I to let the harsh reality that I was beat to hell interfere with that?

  “Who’s next?” I cried out, putting an extra dollop of scorn into my voice. “Because I have more where that came from!”

  No sound met my challenge, save for some snuffling and mumbling from the assembled masses – werewolf whispers, if you will. Worked for me, but I figured I should put some icing on this victory cake. I turned to the nearest wolf, a six and a half footer about thirty feet away, and locked eyes with it. “You want a piece, Fido?”

  It quickly averted its gaze, finding something interesting on the sidewalk that needed studying.

  Holy shit, this was actually going to work.

  “Listen up!” I yelled, ignoring the burning in my lungs. “Craig is dead. That puts me in charge...”

  A bloodcurdling roar rose up in the night, drowning me out completely. I spun back toward my uncle, fearing the worst, but he was still busy being dead.

  So who then? Had one of his minions grown a set? Maybe some young pup with delusions of grandeur or...

  Those thoughts and everything else running through my mind evaporated in an instant as a massive figure stepped from the backyard of the house across the street. All eyes turned that way as an enormous black wolf, possibly even larger than Craig, with salt and pepper streaks in its fur strode forward. Its teeth were bared and its yellow eyes were locked on me as it marched my way.

  Dad?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The few werewolves standing in my father’s way immediately scrambled to the side, moving as if a fire had been lit under their asses. As for me, I could only stand there, slack-jawed. I mean, I knew my father was in the pack, had even been fairly sure I’d seen him earlier, but the truth was, I simply hadn’t expected him to make an appearance like this.

  Now that he was here, though, what did it mean? He crossed the street toward me with purpose, but at the same time wasn’t rushing either.

  The funny thing was – despite his hairy form, massive size, and overall monstrous appearance – his gait reminded me of the times he’d been forced to put on his dad hat and punish me for something I’d done as a kid. Was that his purpose? To come over here and give me a lecture on how dangerous this all was? Because if so, he was a bit late to the party.

  Also, call me a prude, but any such lecture would be a lot more effective if he was wearing pants. I could only hope he didn’t decide to turn back into a human, because that wasn’t a sight I really wanted etched onto my retinas.

  Or maybe this was all nothing more than show. After all, I didn’t begin to understand how werewolf society functioned. Maybe this was some sort of passing the torch thing.

  I decided to wait and follow his lead, anything that would help end this nightmare sooner.

  He approached, still taking his time, and finally stopped in front of me. He reared up to his full height – yeah, definitely bigger than Craig – then looked from me to his brother’s body.

  Wait ... his brother! Oh shit. I was his daughter, true, but I’d just killed his younger brother in cold blood. How would that affect...

  Before I could finish that thought, I was knocked off my feet by a sweeping blow that sent me rolling ass over teakettle onto the grass.

  So much for the beta mindset.

  It wasn’t a particularly hard hit, but I’d been on the go for hours and had just gotten the crap kicked out of me by my big bad wolf of an uncle. All of that I could deal with, but it was my Dad handing out the beating this time.

  I mean, yeah, I’d spent the majority of the last month pissed at him, but I still loved the guy. He was a part of nearly every good memory I had growing up.

  Unfortunately, this was not destined to be one of them. Right at that moment, he was bearing down upon me in the guise of a bloodthirsty monster hell-bent on revenge.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I wasn’t sure if I could bear to tell Mom that I’d been forced to kill my father, her husband. But then, I had to actually make it that far. The pain racking my body told me that was easier said than done.

  If it had been another of the minion wolves, then maybe. Even exhausted I could hopefully have held my own against one, but these elite wolves? Craig had been bigger and a hell of a lot badder than the rest, and I’d seen nothing to suggest my dad was anything but the same.

  Still, I pushed myself back up. Lying down and dying wasn’t what I did, especially not if my father still intended to follow through with his brother’s plans for the town. I didn’t want to believe that – had hoped, prayed even, that by taking Craig out of the equation the rest of the pack, Dad included, would happily turn tail and trot back to Morganberg where they belonged.

  Wishful thinking.

  My father remained standing in the place where he’d clocked me. He could have finished me off by now, but instead he simply waited, growling with bared teeth, his composure anything but relaxed. His meaning seemed clear enough: he was challenging me for the leadership I’d just stolen from his brother.

  I was at a loss at what to do, but then he made the decision for both of us.

  He charged me and I just barely dove out of the way in time. It was either hit the driveway or land on Craig’s body. I chose the less gross, but far more harsh, option, forgetting for a moment that my shirt and jacket were pretty much shredded, leaving me with very little cushion as I hit the asphalt.

  My stomach lurched from the impact, reminding me that ab crunches were probably out for the immediate future. I tasted blood again in the back of my mouth and spat it out, just as I left the ground not of my own free will.

  Dad had grabbed me by the back of my torn jacket. He held me up for a moment, then tossed me onto the grass like a sack of potatoes. I hit the dirt and rolled with it. That minimized the damage but still didn’t leave me in great shape to pop back to my feet and take the fight directly to him.

  I glanced over at Mom’s garden. There were more of those gnomes and they were practically begging me to club someone senseless with them. Sadly, they were out of reach, not to mention I still wasn’t sure I could do that to my father.

  Mind you, that was a decision I needed to get serious about soon if I wanted to live to see the morning. And that was probably all the answer I needed. I loved my dad, but was I truly prepared to die for him?

  If it was to save his life, that would be an easy answer. But dying to allow him to murder th
e innocent people of this town? No fucking way.

  This entire summer, I’d been wrestling with that weird transition period between leaving my youth behind and embracing my adulthood.

  Now it was finally time to make an adult decision.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Dad stalked toward me, his gait confident, almost arrogant. He thought he was going to win this easily. Well, he would probably win regardless, by virtue of me being a mess on the verge of passing out, but I’d be damned if I made it easy.

  I stood up again, but slowly this time, playing possum – if just barely. But even a fraction less than I was capable of put a slight advantage in my corner. I doubled over, pretending to catch my breath as he approached.

  He stood over me and chuffed once, in a manner I took to be disparaging. All the while, I tented my fists together, waiting for a chance.

  Time must have sped up, because suddenly it felt like Christmas morning. Dad leaned down, his muzzle only inches from my face, and snarled. He was probably trying to intimidate me, throw some werewolf shade before he tore my head off. I don’t know. I didn’t wait to find out.

  I swung for the fences before he could pull back, connecting with a solid blow that snapped his jaws shut and knocked him onto his ass dazed.

  Damn his head was hard, but then, so were my fists. The only problem was I didn’t know if I had another one like that in me. I could feel fresh blood dripping down my sides from where I’d reopened the cuts from earlier. This needed to end now.

  Dad shook off the blow, his eyes still a little fuzzy, but they quickly opened wide when he realized I was approaching.

  Faster than I would have expected, he pushed himself to his feet and charged, head down, moving at a speed that said he intended to barrel right over me.

  Pity that I had other ideas. As I said before, I had no intention of becoming a professional wrestler, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t learned a few moves.