Wolf Hunt (Book 2)

by Jeff Strand

  "What the hell is the matter with you?" asked Shane.

  "For real? You can really look at me and ask that question? You're not taking this seriously! None of you are taking this seriously! Let me explain this in single-word sentences so that you can follow the message I'm trying to convey: George. Is. Getting. Away. Right now he is in a boxy light blue car, in motion. Are any of us in motion? I'm not in motion, I can tell you that much. Let's go, go, go! Let's get in your car and go! I've said all of this and yet we're all just standing here! What's the deal with that? Car! Go! Now! He's on his way to Melville Park right now!"

  "Melville Park?"

  "Yes, Melville Park! Why are you always three steps behind me in this conversation? You need to take me to Melville Park!"

  "I'm not taking you anywhere."

  "Except Melville Park, right?"

  "What's he doing there?" Shane asked.

  Eugene sighed with exasperation. "That's where he's answering for me and the girl getting away. You have to answer for that kind of thing when you're dealing with your superiors. That's where the money drop-off is going to happen. That's where everything is going to happen, but is that where we are? No. I'm looking around, hoping to see that I'm in Melville Park, but instead I'm still at the house where George stole the car that he could drive to Melville Park. This is bullshit, bullshit, bullshit."

  Shane gave him a not-so-light shove. "Watch the potty-mouth. My girl doesn't like cursing."

  "And she's right not to. It's the sign of a small, simple mind. I should have found another word. Come on, you have to take me there, I can't stay here, I have to get him, I have to get George, I have to get George, I'm a werewolf who can't morph, I need revenge, can't you see that, can't you see that, can't you see that?"

  The freak was about to have a complete meltdown right there. No way was he riding along with them, even if his body weren't so messed up.

  "Sorry," said Shane. "You can just hang out with Lou here. He looks lonely."

  "Oh, that's funny. That's a jolly funny laugh. You know, that's how people end up going to hell. Do you think God wants to hear you say things like that? Do you think he's up there giggling at that witty thing you just said, or is he judging you? I think he's judging you. And I think that when you're sizzling in that pit of lava, you're going to look back and wonder if it really was just a great idea to—"

  "Enough," said Shane. "Everyone back in the car."

  "Thank you," said Eugene.

  "Not you."

  "You know what? Fine. I forgive you. You have my forgiveness."

  Shane, Robyn, and Crabs got into the car. "Are you sure we shouldn't bring him along?" asked Robyn. "He may know more than what he's said."

  Shane shook his head. "No. I'll kill him if I have to be trapped in a car with him. And, I'm not sure if you noticed, but he's the kind of guy who would attract attention."

  Eugene placed his hoof on the side window. "Please?"

  "Get back in the warmth, you jackass," said Shane. Robyn started the engine and backed out of the driveway. Eugene started to follow them, and Shane wondered if he might have to start throwing rocks and shouting "Shoo! Get out of here! Shoo!" But then Eugene turned and sadly walked back to the house.

  "You do have to feel sorry for him," said Robyn.

  "I don't. I think it's hilarious."

  "He's a fellow wolf."

  "Was a wolf. Now I don't know what he is, but he's not one of us, that's for sure."

  "Are we going to the park?"

  "Hell yeah. I haven't killed somebody in a park since this afternoon." Shane grinned, trying to show off his shattered molar. "It's all over for George."

  * * *

  George walked out of the house, holding an aluminum baseball bat in one hand and a heavy winter coat in the other. He had a small bottle of superglue in his pocket, as well as a wad of about two hundred dollars in cash.

  "The plan worked," said Eugene. "They wouldn't take me. I'm relieved but I'm also kind of insulted. I was pretending to be insane, but I wasn't pretending all that hard."

  "You did great," said George, who hadn't heard any of the conversation and didn't actually know how well Eugene did, but, hey, he should be supportive of his new buddy. "So are they going to the park?" They'd passed a sign for the park earlier. The town seemed pretty dead now that it was dark, so hopefully the park would be, too.

  "As far as I know."

  "Good. So let's hurry." He tossed the coat to Eugene, who wasn't able to catch it. Eugene picked it up off the ground, tried to put it on, then looked embarrassed. "Could you...?"

  "Sure." George set down the bat and helped Eugene into his coat.

  "I'm sorry, I just haven't had a chance to practice. I've been chained to a wall. I know that once I get used to it, I'll be able to do stuff for myself again."

  "You're not going to live the rest of your life with a wolf paw sewn where your hand used to be," George assured him, picking up the bat and then walking toward Tom and Betsy's car. "We're going to get you fixed up as well as..." He trailed off as he saw Lou's body.

  "What?" Eugene asked. "Oh...wow. I'm sorry. I guess they wanted to make sure he was dead."

  George clutched the handle of the bat so tightly that it almost felt like he could crush the metal. He didn't mind the pain. He liked it. Relished it.

  "Which one did it?" George asked.

  "I don't know. I didn't see them do it. I would've tried to stop them, George, I swear."

  George had been pretty bored while he and Lou were hiding out, but when he went into hiding this time, he wouldn't be bored at all. Because he was going to bring at least one of them with him, and his new hobby was going to be finding ways to make them suffer. Maybe Mr. Dewey had the right idea. Maybe he'd turn one of them into his own personal Eugene project. Never let them die.

  He needed to get over this. Oh, he'd keep the rage going—the rage was productive right now—but he couldn't just stand here thinking gruesome thoughts. "We've gotta go," he told Eugene.

  "I'm really sorry," Eugene said. "I mean that."

  They went to Tom and Peggy's car. The idea of leaving Lou behind hurt George's soul, especially now that those monsters had defiled him, but it would take too long to get his body into the other car by himself. Continuing to drive the van would be suicidal. And Lou was dead. Giving him a respectful burial would make George feel better, but it wouldn't do shit for Lou. Lou was gone. Putting himself at risk for a Lou-shaped pile of meat would mean that his best friend had died for nothing.

  Okay, Lou had died for nothing either way. There was no point to this. No noble sacrifice. If the world was a better place with him gone, it wasn't because Lou had died for any sort of cause, it was because George and Lou were scumbags.

  They got into Tom and Betsy's car. "Are we going to return their car when we're done?" Eugene asked.

  "I doubt it."

  "I feel bad that we're stealing it."

  "We also stole their bat, some money, and some glue. And probably their sanity."

  "What's the glue for?"

  "A werewolf-killing tool."

  "Nice."

  "Where's your nearest Goth club?"

  "Goth club?"

  "A club where Goths hang out. Or punks. It doesn't matter. Where would I find somebody with lots of rings and piercings?"

  "I don't live in Tropper."

  "Oh, that's right."

  "I was never really into the club scene. I pretty much just spent time with my family."

  "I guess small-town Minnesota isn't the best place for Goth clubs, but any club aimed at college kids would have to have at least one heavily pierced person, right? We'll find it."

  As they drove away, leaving Lou behind, George tried unsuccessfully to stop the tears.

  "It's okay to cry," said Eugene.

  "No. It's not."

  "It really is."

  "If you want to be a crybaby, that's fine." George wiped his eyes. "Knock yourself out. It's not my thing."<
br />
  "All I'm saying is, cry if you want to. I won't tell anyone. And if you need a hug, all you have do is ask."

  "Thanks," said George, sarcastically. "That makes me feel ever so much better."

  He would never admit this to anyone, but it actually did make him feel better, a little.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Precious Metal

  George came very close to crapping his pants as they passed a parked police car, but it didn't pull out after them. He came even closer to crapping his pants a second time as they passed a pair of police cars that were driving in the opposite direction. But apparently Tom and Betsy had not yet reported their vehicle as stolen. Hopefully they were still hiding in the closet.

  They stopped at the first place that looked remotely promising. It was called M.K.M. and the sign gave no indication of what that might stand for. But it had a skull in the logo and there was loud music blaring from inside.

  The bouncer looked a bit taken aback as George walked through the door. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah, it's fake blood," said George. "Looks badass, huh?"

  "Can I see your ID?"

  George patted at his pocket. "I don't have my wallet with me. C'mon, I'm way beyond twenty-one."

  "You can't drink without an armband, and I can't give you an armband without an ID."

  "I wasn't going to drink. I'm just here to see a friend."

  The bouncer shrugged and let George pass.

  Not many people were in the tiny club. A few kids stood and nodded their heads in time to the beat of the band that was on stage, but it was clearly the opening act for the opening act and there wasn't a ton of enthusiasm.

  George quickly scanned the club, hoping to find one of those kids who went absolutely berserk with the piercings, where you worried that they might accidentally get them caught on something and rip half of their faces off. There were none like that, but a couple of girls sitting at a table near the back, dressed in lacy black outfits, did seem to be wearing plenty of jewelry. They were both college-aged, so there was nothing George could do about the "creepy old man hitting on young women" vibe that he'd no doubt give off, but hopefully he could charm them enough to let him buy some of their stuff.

  "Hello," he said, walking up to their table. "I promise I'm not trying to hit on you."

  "Uh-huh," said one of the girls. She wore blood-red lipstick and her hair was a shade of black that didn't appear in nature, but she wasn't wearing any makeup beyond that. She took a sip of her beer and gave George a look that said that she'd really appreciate it if he would fuck off.

  "I'm not, I swear. This is going to sound crazy, and that's fine, but I have to kill some werewolves tonight, and I really need to buy any silver jewelry you've got."

  The other girl leaned across the table. "Are you Lou Flynn?"

  "Uh, no. I'm his partner."

  "George Orton? So that stuff that's on the news is true?"

  "I haven't had time to watch TV today so I'm not sure what's on the news, but if they're talking about werewolves, yes, it's true."

  "Oh my God! This is so cool! My boyfriend updated your Wikipedia entry a few months ago! Yeah, people have reported walking wolves, and there's this house full of dead bodies, and my mom barely let me go out tonight! So you're hunting them?"

  George nodded. "Yeah. But I need silver. Rings, bracelets...whatever you've got. I've only got about two hundred bucks."

  The girls began taking off their rings. "Will you do an interview with my boyfriend for his blog?"

  "You bet."

  The first girl stuck out her tongue, revealing a large stud. "Thith too?"

  "That would be great."

  * * *

  After they dropped Crabs off, Robyn kind of looked like she wanted to have sex again, but that would be irresponsible. So they drove a few blocks from Melville Park, which was a decent enough park with a slide, swing set, jungle gym, and all of the other prerequisites except for playing children, and parked in the lot of a large grocery store. The parking lot wasn't very well lit and Shane figured they'd be anonymous enough. Better than taking the risk of driving past the wrong cop.

  He'd released Ally from the trunk and sat with her in the back seat, while Robyn remained up front. He didn't like warning his daughter that he'd be forced to inflict physical harm upon her if she caused a commotion or tried to get away, but he really had no choice in the matter. She seemed to take the warning seriously.

  He hated seeing his daughter's face all blotchy, her eyes all swollen from sobbing. Now that the high of the previous slaughter had faded, he really wished that Robyn had at least not murdered Peggy right in front of her. Lots of teenagers lost their mothers and got over it, but having her mother murdered right before her eyes was a wound that might stick around for a while.

  Nothing he could do about it. Still, the next time they were alone he'd let Robyn know how badly she'd screwed up.

  "We need to find out what made you change," he said. "We can't leave town as wolves if you're stuck as a human."

  "I don't know what made me change," Ally insisted. It was hard to understand her while she was crying. "I can't do it."

  "Yes, you can. We'll figure it out. It's a little different for everyone, but once you find the trigger, with some practice you can change whenever you want." He changed his hand. "See? When you get good enough, you can change whatever part you want."

  "Why would I want to just change my hand?"

  Shane glared at her. "Maybe you want to slash somebody's throat, but you don't want anybody to see you turn into a full wolf. How about that?"

  Slashing a throat? He'd really said that to her? Wow. Shane felt like he should apologize, but didn't.

  Ally didn't seem to catch his faux pas. "I'm not going to start killing people."

  "Nobody said you had to. Where were you when you changed?"

  "In the back of the van."

  "By yourself?"

  "With George."

  "What was he doing?"

  "He was holding me down."

  Shane let out a snarl. "And how did you feel about that?"

  "How do you think I felt?"

  "I don't know. That's what we're trying to sort out. We've got to analyze the shades of emotion. I'm sure you weren't happy about it, but how exactly did you feel?"

  "I was scared."

  "That's a start. How did you feel when you got the drill through your foot?"

  "Scared."

  "And it hurt, right?"

  "What do you think?"

  "Did George hurt you when he was holding you down?"

  "No, not really."

  "So, fear without pain, maybe? It could be that the intense fear makes you change, but the pain counter-balances it and prevents the change. Maybe not counter-balances it, that sounds stupid, but if the pain is stronger than the fear, that could be why you can't change. Think about how you've felt today. All day. Have you hurt more, or have you been more scared?"

  "I've hurt more."

  "All day? So all day, the pain has been stronger than the fear?"

  Ally nodded.

  "Then maybe we're on the right track."

  * * *

  They weren't on the right track. Ally was in a lot of pain, but even when the actual drill bit was boring through her flesh, the terror had been worse.

  She hadn't been trying to examine her emotional state before the transformation, but now that Dad was trying to talk her through it, she realized the difference.

  When George had held her down in the back of the van, she'd been frightened, but she'd also been more mad than anything else.

  Since then, she'd been scared, and she'd been horrified, and she'd been devastated, yet she hadn't actually been furious, even at Robyn.

  At the moment before the change: rage.

  That was it. That was the secret.

  What she didn't know was how to make herself angry. Or at least, more angry than scared. Because right now, she was positively
terrified, and she didn't think she could turn that into fury.

  She wouldn't want to change now, anyway. Not with Dad and Robyn right there. Two werewolves who knew what they were doing in their wolf form would catch her easily, and she truly believed that Dad would hurt her. Maybe he wouldn't kill her, but he'd make sure she didn't try to get away again.

  Still, if she was able to lose them, for only a moment...

  * * *

  Crabs liked being in this tree.

  Wolfmen could not climb trees. So he climbed as a human. Almost all the way to the top. From here, he could watch everything that was happening in the park.

  Nothing was happening now. Maybe nothing would.

  It was peaceful up here in the tree. It should have been too cold, but Crabs never felt cold. Other people would complain about the cold and Crabs would silently laugh at them.

  If George actually did show up, Crabs would kill him.

  He was not supposed to kill him. He was supposed to run back and let Shane know that he was here. And perhaps he would decide to do that. But for right now, his plan was to leap down from the tree. He was so good at changing that he could do it in mid-air, so that was what he would do. Leap down, change in mid-air, and then pounce on George and rip him apart.

  Poor George.

  If that other man was there, Crabs would kill him, too. Crabs knew he wasn't a werewolf. The man thought he could fool everybody else, but he could not fool Crabs. Crabs was the one who had told Shane that the woman in the bar was a werewolf, and if it were not for that, Shane and Robyn would never have met. Never would have fucked.