The Werewolf Chasers (Book 3): Wolf Hunt 3

by Strand, Jeff

  "I understand that," said Ally. "I still want to stay with my friends."

  Asher's smile disappeared. "We have rules here. You'll become well acquainted with them. One of these rules is that you do not disobey me when I tell you to do something. You are more than welcome to stay with your friends, but you'll be staying with them someplace else, because I do not tolerate disobedience here."

  "She'll go to her room," George said. "I apologize. She's just scared. We went through a lot together."

  Ally nodded. "Yeah, I'll go to the room. Sorry."

  Bonnie took Ally's hand and led her over to the elevator. Ally didn't look back as the door opened and they stepped on board. After the door closed, Asher's smile returned.

  "George Orton," he said. "I did not expect to ever see you here."

  "I didn't expect to ever be here. But Ally needed to be taken someplace safe."

  "She seems like a sweet young lady. I can see why you'd want to protect her. Ivan, on the other hand...well, I can't quite tell you how surprised I am to see him alive. And if I'm not mistaken, which I most definitely am not, the three of you have had something of an antagonistic relationship."

  "You're not mistaken," said George. "We got over it to help Ally."

  "Ivan too? He was never much of a team player for the werewolves."

  Ivan pushed himself up to a sitting position, even though it clearly hurt like hell. "I am now," said Ivan. "That's why I brought George and Lou here. A gift from me to you. They're no friends of werewolves. You could almost call them werewolf hunters."

  This was not something they'd discussed before arriving here. George didn't like where this speech seemed to be going.

  "A lot of people are looking for them," said Ivan. "You can hand them over. Collect some cash. Or you can kill them yourself. Your call. I know that to stay here I have to earn my keep, and George and Lou are my down payment."

  Asher stroked his chin. "Interesting."

  "They look a little surprised, and they might think this is a ruse on my part, some shit to lull you into a false sense of security. It's not. They thought they were bringing me here to assassinate you. We drove all the way from Georgia. A man named J.P. sent us. I don't know his full name. But I'm pretty sure it was meant to be a doomed mission from the beginning, and I'd much rather live among my own kind here than in a place where they keep me caged up."

  Asher nodded. "Thank you, Ivan. I accept your generous gift."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A Terrible Time To Be George And Lou

  "He's lying," said George.

  "One thing I'm very good at is telling if somebody is being untruthful," said Asher. "I'm like a lycanthrope polygraph. And, no, Ivan is not lying."

  George wasn't sure what to do now. Try to talk his way out of this? Run? Fight?

  They'd faced off against worse odds than a sixty-year-old man and his bodyguards. "Fight" seemed like the best option.

  The two bodyguards immediately stepped forward. Their arms turned into bulky werewolf arms. George quickly decided that "run" was now the superior option, but before he and Lou could even attempt to flee, the bodyguards were upon them, placing a vice-grip on the back of their necks. George had forgotten about his hacksaw injury, but this reminded him in a big way.

  He tried to pull away, then winced as a jolt of electricity shot through his body, and suddenly he didn't want to struggle anymore. Lou violently twitched as he got zapped as well. For a moment George thought that these werewolves also had the magical power to harness electricity, then he realized that they were merely discreet about holding their stun guns.

  "We will not be handing them over to lowlife gangsters," said Asher. "I don't need the money, and I don't want those wretches to have any kind of satisfaction. George and Lou, for crimes against the werewolf community, I sentence you to death."

  "Can I do it?" asked Ivan.

  "You want us to dangle their throats above you? No, Ivan, you may not do it." To the bodyguards, he said, "Throw them in the pit."

  George didn't want to go into a pit. Any pit. But he was unable to effectively resist as the bodyguards led him and Lou toward the elevator.

  "Bye, guys!" said Ivan, waving to them. His hand flopped around on his broken wrist, but apparently the pain was worth one final taunt.

  George lost his balance but the bodyguard kept him from falling to the floor. The four of them entered the elevator, one of the bodyguards pressed a button labeled "B," and the doors closed.

  "We're not enemies of werewolves," said George. Some drool trickled out of the side of his mouth as he spoke. "We're only enemies of the out-of-control ones. Talk to Ally. She'll tell you."

  The bodyguard holding George laughed. "Even if I believed you, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to throw somebody in the pit."

  "What kind of pit is it? A bottomless pit?"

  The elevator doors opened and the bodyguards shoved George and Lou forward into the basement. The pit took up most of the room. There were odd sounds coming from down there. Scurrying and mewling.

  George really, really, really did not want to be thrown into the pit.

  "Relax," said the bodyguard. "It's just deformed werewolf babies."

  George knew that he had to fight with every ounce of strength remaining in his body. It was two against two, and though he and Lou were still dazed from getting zapped, they had something even more powerful: the will to live. They were going to resist with a ferocity unlike anything these men had ever encountered.

  By the time he made this vow, he and Lou were falling into the pit.

  It was about a ten-foot drop, but they didn't land on cement.

  Something crunched and squealed beneath George. Actually, two or three things, one of which was vigorously trying to tug itself out from underneath his leg. There wasn't much light down here, but George could see well enough to wish that he'd gone blind.

  The pit was full of babies. Sort of. They came in various shapes and sizes, all of them nightmarish. Some had limbs. Some just had protrusions. One had nothing—it was a jiggling blob of flesh, though when it rolled over George could see part of a mouth.

  The babies that hadn't been crushed underneath George and Lou moved to the sides of the pit.

  The bodyguards peered over the edge. Each of them held a bucket.

  "They might not recognize you as food yet," one of the bodyguards said.

  They tossed the contents of their buckets into the pit, drenching George and Lou with blood and offal.

  The babies scurried back to the middle. George felt mouths and tongues and teeth over his body, and within seconds he and Lou were completely swarmed by the creatures.

  * * *

  The elevator doors opened and again and two more men showed up to replace the bodyguards who'd taken away George and Lou.

  "The waiting room isn't normally where I'd have this conversation," said Asher, crouching down next to Ivan, "but I don't want to jiggle your shattered bones any more than necessary. So tell me, Ivan, what are you looking for here?"

  "Safety in numbers."

  Asher nodded. "We do have that. But we also practice an abundance of caution, and like I told Ally, we have rules that must be followed. Will it offend you if I suggest that your reputation is that of being something of a loose cannon?"

  "Nah. I'll own that."

  "Honestly, I was relieved to hear that you were dead, and I'm unhappy to see that you're not."

  "I've changed," said Ivan. "I did a lot of bad shit—I completely admit that. I don't want to be like that anymore. I want to keep my head down and live a normal life."

  "And when did you make this decision?"

  "Long ago. But I was a prisoner."

  "My problem, Ivan, is that you called George and Lou a gift to me, but I think the truth is simply that you saw the opportunity to sell them out, and there's no honor in that. I believe that you were on your way to assassinate me, and that things went bad along the way, leaving you as this pathet
ic helpless parody of a werewolf. Since you obviously weren't going to be able to kill me, you tried to buy my favor. How accurate is this?"

  "Not at all."

  "I'm not shedding any tears for George and Lou. They deserve their ghastly fate. But I'm a man of honor, and those under my protection are also expected to behave honorably. You're a punk, Ivan. A disgrace. You're of almost no use to me. I say almost because I'd like to hear more about this assassination plan."

  Asher stood up and walked over to Bonnie's desk. He opened a drawer, rifled through the contents, then picked up something and closed the drawer. When Asher knelt next to Ivan again, he was holding a black stapler.

  "This is my favorite stapler," said Asher. "Do you like it?"

  "Yeah, sure, it's great."

  "Actually, there's nothing remarkable about the stapler itself. It's just a normal stapler. You can use it to staple papers, if you want." He gently clacked it a couple of times. "If you wanted to, say, staple papers to a wall, it opens like this." He swung the stapler open. "Now you just push it against whatever you want to staple, and the staple pops out. But I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, am I?"

  "I'm not sure what you're trying to prove with this stapler lesson," said Ivan. "But I swear to you, I'm loyal."

  "Maybe," said Asher. "I apologize if I've been going on and on about office equipment. Most people don't expect an old werewolf in a spooky cloak to get so excited about this sort of thing. Like I said, it's just a normal stapler. Filled with silver staples."

  Ivan's eyes went wide.

  "Oh, good, it looks like I just captured your attention." Asher pressed the stapler against Ivan's shoulder. "We're going to do this one without me asking you a question, because I'm worried that you might tell the truth and rob me of the joy this will bring me."

  He pushed down on the stapler.

  Ivan shrieked. His skin around the staple began to sizzle.

  "Be as loud as you want," said Asher. "We wouldn't have a building full of werewolves without proper soundproofing."

  "It burns!" Ivan shouted. "It fucking burns!"

  "Yes, I can see that. There's even some smoke."

  "Get it out of me!"

  "Silly me. I seem to have forgotten my staple remover. You just thrash around in agony while I go get it."

  Asher casually walked back to the desk, opened a few drawers, and strolled back to where Ivan had transformed into his wolf head and was furiously gnawing at his own shoulder to try to dig out the staple.

  "I don't want to get too close to your teeth, so I guess we'll leave that one in for now." He stapled Ivan's left leg, which also began to sizzle, and then his right. "I could do this all night, but the point of this torture is to get information out of you, so I'd recommend that you change your head back so I can ask you a question."

  Ivan changed his head back to human. Asher dug out the three staples, making no effort to do it with surgical precision.

  "Shhhhh. There, there. The pain will go away eventually. Now tell me a little more about this J.P. fellow."

  * * *

  "Oh, no," said Eugene out loud.

  A van and two cars drove past the building. This was no big deal by itself. Though it wasn't a very busy street, plenty of other cars had driven past since Ally, George, and Lou went inside. But these vehicles slowed down to a crawl as they drove by the building, resuming their normal speed once they'd passed. They all took a left turn and drove around the corner, out of sight.

  Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe the van driver slowed down for an unrelated reason, and they all happened to be turning in the same direction.

  What should he do?

  Was there anything he could do?

  The phone rang, startling him so badly that he smacked his funny bone against the door and his arm went numb. "Hello?" he said.

  "Eugene," said J.P. "How's everything going?"

  "Going fine, going fine."

  "Why didn't you call me when you arrived?"

  "I didn't know I was supposed to. You didn't say that. Did you tell George? He didn't pass on the message. Or he did and I forgot. Sorry."

  "Are they inside?"

  "Yes."

  "Where are you and Ally?"

  "Ally went in with them."

  "Why?"

  "To help."

  The van, apparently having gone around the block, turned onto the street again, followed by the same two cars. Eugene wasn't sure if he should mention this potential complication to J.P. or not.

  "Where are you right now?" J.P. asked. "Are you someplace safe?"

  "Yeah. I'm..." Eugene was not a skilled liar, but something in J.P.'s tone suddenly made him wonder if it was a good idea to be forthcoming about his location. "...parked a few blocks away. Are you still at the compound?"

  "Yes."

  The van was once again very slowly driving past the building.

  "Stop!" Eugene shouted into the phone, as loud as he could.

  The van stopped as if the driver had suddenly slammed on the brakes. Then it immediately resumed moving forward again.

  "Stop what?" asked J.P. "You don't need to shout into my ear."

  "I wasn't talking to you," said Eugene. "Somebody keeps trying to wash the windshield."

  "All right," said J.P., sounding unconvinced.

  The van and cars turned left again and drove off.

  "I know you're here," said Eugene.

  "All right. And what exactly are we going to do about that?"

  "I don't know."

  * * *

  George had experienced many unpleasant moments in recent days, but none of them compared to being covered in blood and guts while misshapen werewolf infants slurped it up. One chewed on his wet hair. One was trying to shove its tiny head into his screaming mouth. Several of them were biting.

  One bit hard, breaking the skin. Another raked its claws across his cheek.

  Their mewling and the disgusting slurping sounds were maddening.

  One chomped down on his ear, nearly biting through it, while another stuck its freakishly long tongue in his other ear.

  Above, he could hear the bodyguards laughing at his plight.

  He sat up and tried to pull the infant's head away from its mouth, but the infant was slippery and he couldn't get a solid grip. Its head looked like the head of a baby doll, with black eyes. If this thing cooed at him, George was going to simply lie back down and succumb to insanity.

  Lou seemed to be having an equally poor time.

  The doll-head infant slipped out of George's grasp again. He said, "Shit!" which was a terrible mistake because it pressed its soft head against his mouth and shoved with astonishing strength. He couldn't breathe through his nose because there was too much blood in it. He frantically tried to pull the baby out, trying to dig his fingers into its deformed body, but it kept pushing its head into his mouth with an inexplicable drive.

  He was going to suffocate.

  One of the creatures slipped under his shirt and began licking blood out of his navel.

  If the doll-head baby kept pushing, George's mouth was going to split open at the edges.

  He bit down. Its thin skull crunched like a taco shell. George spat the thick liquid out of his mouth before he could identify it. The baby began to violently twitch, as if touching an electrical wire, and stopped trying to invade his mouth.

  The creature under his shirt went from licking to biting. He pulled it out and flung it as hard as he could. It splattered against the wall of the pit.

  George got to his feet and tried to kick the ghastly things away. Then he slipped on some blood, fell on his ass, and they were upon him again.

  * * *

  "What do you think?" asked Bonnie.

  "It's very nice," said Ally.

  Truthfully, it was. Much nicer than her room in the compound. Nothing too fancy, but it had a bed instead of a cot, and it felt like someplace she could live instead of hide. Asher seemed like kind of a power-hungry dick; s
till, she wondered if he was truly evil.

  J.P. was one of the bad guys. Was Asher a bad guy as well? Or was the whole thing about him wanting to start a war between humans and werewolves a complete lie?

  She should never have come up here. She should have started crying and pretending that she was too scared to leave George and Lou. Asher wouldn't have separated a sobbing girl from her protectors, would he? She wasn't doing anybody any good right now.

  "Can I get you anything?" Bonnie asked.

  "No. I think I might take a nap, if that's okay."

  "Of course it's okay. You just lie down and get some sleep. I'll be back to check on you soon."

  Bonnie left the room. Ally listened for the sound of the door being locked from the other side but didn't hear it. She'd wait a couple of minutes, and then sneak out. If she got caught...well, what were they going to do, kill her?

  * * *

  The laughter was the worst part.

  Well, no, being covered in blood and having deformed werewolf babies chew on him was the worst part, but listening to the cruel laughter of the bodyguards as they watched from above made it infuriating. Lou didn't want his horrific demise to be somebody's fun-filled entertainment.

  So he tried not to scream.

  He was nowhere close to successful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Gross

  Ally cracked open her door just a bit and peeked out into the hallway.

  Bonnie stood right outside.

  "I thought you were taking a nap," said Bonnie.

  "I was," said Ally. "I am. I just had to go to the bathroom."

  "Then why did you open the door so slowly and quietly? Why did you peek out like you were trying not to get caught?"

  "I was trying to be courteous. I didn't know if anybody else was napping."

  "You just got here," said Bonnie. "Why are you being naughty already?"

  * * *