Bad Company

by D V Wolfe

  Noah swallowed hard and I clapped him on the back. “There. Feel better?”

  “Uh, no,” Noah said.

  Mick bent over and heaved and we all turned to look at him. “I’m good,” he said. “Just a symptom of the bite.”

  I looked over at the corpse on the room floor and an idea hit me. “Should we take the body with us? I mean if the three of you can smell them, wouldn’t having one of their own on board, I don’t know, mask the smell of Faoladh and Cynocephali approaching?” I glanced at Noah. “Not to mention two humans?”

  Tiff considered it and then her eyes went wide. “That would probably get us past the roaming watch that will be patrolling around their den.” Tiff looked back at me. “And you and Noah need to take some precautions. Shit. I can’t believe I almost forgot.” Completely breaking her stoic, mystic persona, she opened her leather bag on the bed and started rooting around in it. She came up with a plastic bottle of something that looked like horse urine mixed with hand lotion. And I recognized Rosetta’s handwriting on the masking tape label.

  “What the hell is that?” I coughed as Tiff popped the top and the air was instantly filled with a smell that made my eyes water. Noah started coughing beside me and I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears started to flow. I felt Tiff’s hands slathering what smelled like death on my skin and I started to choke.

  “It’s protection,” Tiff said.

  “Can I get some protection, from the protection?” I wheezed. “Jesus what’s in it.”

  “Wolfsbane,” Tiff said, moving to start slathering it on Noah who immediately stopped laughing and started choking. “So don’t get it in your mouth, eyes, or nose because it’s super poisonous.”

  “I didn’t think wolfsbane smelled this bad,” I choked as Tiff came back to me, rubbing more on my neck.

  “Rosetta made it,” Tiff said. “About two years ago. So it’s aged a bit, but I’m pretty sure that smell is the corpse flower that she adds to it to make the wearer even more unappetizing.”

  “I’m pretty sure she nailed that,” I said, choking back a dry-heave.

  Tiff finished with us and Noah and I looked at each other and took a huge step apart. He bumped into Vince who pushed him away.

  “No offense, Noah,” Vince said. “But you smell...there are no words for how you smell.”

  Mick was back to puking. “I can’t tell,” he said between dry heaves, “if this is because of the bite or the way that you two smell.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t really matter. Either way Mick, you should stay here.”

  “What?!” Mick said, leaning against the wall.

  “She’s right,” Vince said, helping Mick towards the bathroom. “The side effects of the bite are starting to set in, Mick. You’ll be at your weakest right in the middle of this shit storm.”

  Vince argued with Mick for another couple of minutes. Mick slowly made weaker, both physically and verbally, arguments until he laid down on the bathroom floor. “Fine,” Mick finally wheezed. “But I’m staying under pro…” Then he puked.

  “Just rest,” Vince said, tossing him a pillow off the bed and dragging in a comforter. Vince came back out to join us and holstered his weapons.

  “Let’s get our furry little hood ornament mounted,” I said, heading over to the werewolf corpse. “And get this show on the road.”

  It took all four of us to drag the body out and throw it in Lucy’s bed. I closed the tailgate and turned to look at Vince, Noah, and Tiff.

  “Ok, so what’s the plan?”

  “We find the pack,” Tiff started. “I go in first to try to talk to them and find out why they’re here.”

  “And we come in with you in case they’re feeling more bitey and less chatty,” I said.

  “Seconded,” Vince and Noah said.

  Tiff looked annoyed. “Now I know this is going to be hard for the three of you to hear, but werewolves don’t like humans…” She raised her hand, cutting Vince’s protest off before he could make it. “Or Cynocephali, except as food.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now that’s just disappointing.”

  “The fact is,” Tiff said. “You’ll just make things harder in the communication part of this.”

  “Tiff,” I said. “This wasn’t your hunt. I dragged you along. If anything happens to you…”

  “Bane,” Tiff said. “Shut it. I was planning on making this trip anyway. Just trust me on this, ok?” She stared me down for a minute, not blinking, her gaze pouring into mine and I finally relented.

  “Fine,” I said. “So we take Lucy in first and Vince and Noah, you two come behind in the Jeep and find a good spot to help us keep them contained for questioning and, or, possibly killing them.”

  Noah opened his mouth to protest and I held up my hand. “Cover Vince. I’m covering Tiff. Got it?” At that, Noah closed his mouth and nodded.

  We loaded up and headed back through town. We made it to Dickey Road and between my phone operator directions and Tiff’s extraordinary sense of smell, we made it out to the sewage plant. We turned up a pasture road just past the turn in for the sewage plant and headed north. I checked behind me as we made the turn and I saw the Jeep’s headlights coming behind us. I had my cell phone open and Vince’s number pre-dialed so that we could call him as soon as we found the den. I had only the vaguest of directives to give him: Figure out how to keep the pack from escaping and don’t die. I had a feeling the first directive was going to be a lot easier than the second.

  Between the two of them, Noah and Vince had three .45 caliber Colts and four clips of bullets each. Silver bullets were probably the priciest thing I’d ever bought on my soul tab. I’ll probably spend many days or years downstairs meditating on how big of an asshole werewolves are for not dying from regular bullets to the heart. I had the .357 and fourteen rounds of silver ammo.

  In an ideal scenario, Tiff and I would drive into the heart of the den, Tiff would woo them with some ‘wild bite’ speech that would make them all cry, she’d ask to speak to their Alpha who would immediately divulge the identity of the demon who was controlling them and tell us how to break the hold on them. Noah and Vince would form an uncrossable barrier around the den that would make the werewolves fish in a barrel Then, we’d kill all of the werewolves because they were human-eating monsters. Tiff would be weird about it, but that was to be expected. Then we’d motor back into town to find Mick feeling much better and we’d all be on our merry way. Tiff would go back to her quiet life in Dearag. Vince and Mick back to doing...whatever they were doing before coming to Clear Rapids. And Noah and I would get back on the road, armed with new intel and ready to find the dickbag demon or demons that kept sending shit at us. Also in this ideal scenario, werewolves would be worth about fifty souls each instead of eight, like the last time I hunted them, and my job would be done with enough time for me to...do something for the next couple of months. While I was at it, I might as well throw in that in this ideal scenario, I would be wearing gold MC Hammer pants and I would be driving a tank. I should have asked for a tank when I came back instead of a beat-up ‘49 Ford. Hindsight, am I right?

  None of this happened, however. We took a bend around a hill on the pasture road and I didn’t see headlights following us anymore. Not good. Then the pasture road in front of us seemed to disappear. I slowed down, trying to pick up the trail again.

  “What’s wrong?” Tiff asked.

  “I can’t find the road anymore,” I said, switching to brights, hoping I could find the tiniest glimpse of indentation and bald dirt amongst the buffalo grass that might tell me we were on the right path.

  Then, the howling started. The first one sounded far away. I turned off my headlights and Tiff spoke from beside me. “Bane, werewolves are usually nocturnal and their night vision is pretty good. Even without your headlights, they can spot you. It’s more likely that they smell their dead brother in the bed of your truck and they’re calling to him. Of course, they might not be able to tell he’s dead yet.�
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  I flipped the headlights back on and hoped to see some sign of the Jeep coming behind us in my rearview. No such luck.

  Instead, coming right at us, eyes reflected red in the glare of the headlights were five behemoth-sized man wolves, and they were pissed.

  “Ok, maybe they’ve figured out he’s dead,” Tiff said.

  “Shit!” I said, shifting Lucy into reverse. I gunned it and we hit something. I pushed the pedal to the floor, hearing the tires spinning, unable to get traction to move us back. There was a roar behind us and I looked in the rearview mirror. In the dim light of Lucy’s reflected tail lights, I could see three more werewolves almost lifting Lucy’s backend off the ground as they held us in place. I looked over at Tiff to see her almost fully transformed.

  “Tiff, something is wrong. If this is just the scouting crew, it’s already a lot bigger than the average pack. There are eight here with us, more howling coming from the trees, plus the customer in our truck bed...the last pack I hunted had seven werewolves in it, total.” Of course, what I didn’t add was the fact that I was only able to kill one of the werewolves. The others had gotten away.

  “There is something that has drawn them together. Maybe it’s two or three tribes. If they have lost their alpha or have a common interest, packs could be joining together for strength in numbers,” Tiff said.

  The truck was rocking now as the wolves grew more viscous. There were two more coming out of the wooded area and I jumped in my seat when one of the wolves standing beside the truck bed let out a loud howl.

  Tiff reached for the door handle.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “What we came here to do. Just stay in the tuck and let me do the talking,” she growled.

  “Good plan,” I said. Tiff opened her door and howled to the night. I looked around. Still no headlights. Had the scouting crew of werewolves already gotten Vince and Noah? I gripped the butt of my gun in my lap and closed my eyes. Please don’t let anything happen to that kid, universe. Or Vince. Mick had already been bitten. Vince deserved a break. The werewolves had paused, listening to Tiff’s howl. Lucy shook as the werewolves holding her tail end off the ground dropped her and started moving around to Tiff. When the furry bastards had dropped Lucy’s back end, her engine died. I flipped the starter off and tried starting the engine again. No luck. Demon SUV deja vu. Not a good sign.

  Tiff closed her door behind her and began to growl again. I had my hand on my door handle and the safety off on the .357 in my lap. I didn’t like this. I really didn’t like this. Tiff was unprotected out there. She was growling, her voice booming across the open pasture land and the woods that bordered it. At first, the werewolves towering over and surrounding Tiff were quiet, stunned, and listening to her growl. After a minute though, a few at the back started to growl low in their throats. This was really not good. I didn’t want to interrupt what Tiff was doing by kicking open one of Lucy’s insanely loud, squeaking doors, so as quietly as I could, I slid across the seat. The nearest werewolf to the door turned its head slowly, noticing me for the first time. Tiff let out another growl and it cut its eyes to her. There was a pause and then the werewolf growled back at Tiff. Tiff paused and the other werewolves started growling. The first one lunged for Tiff and a gunshot rang out. The werewolf stiffened and fell to the ground. I looked down at the warm .357 in my hand. I guess I did that.

  Then the werewolves surged. Tiff growled and three werewolves plowed into her. I fired off a shot and a werewolf let out a whimper of pain. Tiff disappeared in the pack of werewolves and I started to climb out of the passenger side window. I was met nose to nose with a huge brown werewolf. It lunged as if it was going to bite and I jerked back, firing off a shot that went wide. It brought down one of its huge arms, claws digging into my shoulder. The wolfsbane lotion. That’s why it hadn’t bit me. My shoulder was on fire and I could feel blood trickling down my chest. I tried to raise the gun but my left arm was too weak. I two-handed the gun, just as Lucy’s driver door squeaked open behind me and something grabbed me by the ankles. It started dragging me backward. I dug my fingers into the seat, trying to keep myself from being dragged out. When I couldn’t hold on anymore, I turned back to face whatever had me and I was face to face with a white werewolf, half bent over, ready to bite my leg. I fired and the werewolf howled and fell to the side. There were more of them now, crawling over Lucy’s bed and rounding her grill to get to me. I had three shots left and I was surrounded. I’d lost Tiff and only my top half was smeared with Rosetta’s lotion crap. The werewolves had quickly figured that out and I was still in very real danger of getting bit on the leg. Or maybe they would just eat me. My bottom half at least. They were going to eat my ass. I thought about telling them that as I felt another claw dig into my ankle. Regardless, I had three more bullets and I sure as hell was going to use them. I pumped one into the werewolf holding me and two more lunged forward to grab my legs. I was kicking them, reminding myself that I’d gotten Tiff into this and probably gotten her killed, not to mention Vince and Noah. Nice going, Bane. When I fucked up, did I do it right or what?

  I imagined that I heard a car horn somewhere behind Lucy, but then a flash of headlights reflected off the side mirror of Lucy’s open door. The werewolves holding me had paused, turning their heads to listen.

  “Bane!” Noah’s voice. “Get in the Jeep!” Good plan Noah. I’d love to if I wasn’t currently being sized up by a bunch of dick werewolves like a pinata at a birthday party. The werewolves had turned to look at the Jeep and shots rang out from the Jeep in our direction. I instinctively laid back on the seat, praying that Noah wouldn’t shoot me in the head in the dark. Mostly, from the sound of it, Lucy was taking the damage. I had a fleeting thought that the silver being drilled into her frame was probably upping her value. I looked back to see the werewolves starting to scatter as three guns opened fire on them. The two holding me weren’t budging, so I decided to give them some incentive. I emptied my last two shots at them. They let go and I slid off the seat. I turned back to look for Tiff. There was a howl in the distance. Not Tiff’s. The ground under me rumbled and even in the dark, I could see a horde of the damn things running straight at us. Fuck.

  “Bane, come on!!!” Noah screamed. I stumbled over a dead werewolf and threw myself forward at the Jeep. I headbutted the passenger-side backseat door and the door hit me again as it was opened from inside. I felt Noah’s hand on the back of my shirt, lifting me up as I scrambled into the backseat. “Drive!” Noah screamed. Vince gunned it and we tore up half the pasture doing a u-turn and heading back to the road.

  “Wait!” I screamed. “We have to get Tiff!” I was having a horrible flashback of Sicily.

  “There’s too many of them, Bane,” Vince said. “They’d slaughter us. We need a new damn plan.”

  10

  “No shit!” I yelled back as we hit uneven ground and the Jeep bounced me off the ceiling.

  “Hang on,” Noah yelled.

  Vince was driving, pedal to the floor, and I was instantly thankful that Vince didn’t drive a Prius. We’d lost the pasture road somewhere about a quarter of a mile behind us but I could still hear the howling. I grabbed a headrest with both hands and squinted out the back window into the dark. I could see pairs of reflecting eyes in the distance. We were finally outstripping them. But they had Tiffany.

  “We’ve got to go back!” I yelled at Vince. He didn’t slow down. I reached for the door release.

  “Hell no,” Noah yelled and I heard the doors all click locked. Noah turned to look at me. “Bane, we’ll get her back. We just need to figure out what to do. Tiff is smart. She was like a pied piper with them when she first started howling.”

  We finally fish-tailed onto the pavement and Vince only slowed down marginally as we took another corner heading back to town.

  “Where the hell were you two?” I asked.

  “Driving the perimeter,” Vince said. “To make sure none of them escaped. Just like
the plan. But then there was this deep, reverberating howling coming from the other side of the den and all the werewolves started moving towards it, so we did too, afraid you’d be overrun, which you were.”

  “But they took her,” I said. My throat was tight and my vision was blurring. What had I done? I should have kept driving instead of stopping in Dearag. Noah and I could have just run in there, drove over the werewolves with Lucy, and probably shot a few before we’d been ambushed. But Noah would have been at risk too. Damn. This is why I needed to just hunt alone.

  “I know that look,” Noah muttered. He was turned around in the passenger seat, glaring at me. “That’s the look you always get on your face ten minutes before you try to abandon me at a Greyhound station.” I didn’t say anything. Noah sighed and leaned his head against his headrest. “Bane, this was Tiff’s plan. She knows what she’s doing. We’ll get her back.”

  It all sounded nice and simple. I wish I could get myself to believe it. Vince pulled into the motel parking lot and the three of us headed back inside. Mick was passed out on the bathroom floor. The three of us got him onto one of the beds and under the covers. He was sweating and shivering from head to foot.

  “Is he going to be ok?” Noah asked.

  Vince nodded. “He should be feeling better by tomorrow morning. This crap usually only affects us for about forty-eight hours.

  I slumped down across from Vince who was trying to get Mick awake enough to pour some water down his throat.

  “How are you on ammo?” Vince asked. I got up and dug through my duffle bag coming up with one more clip of eight rounds for the .45 and I pulled a handful of .357 bullets out of my pocket.