“Fuck!” she exclaimed, eyes wide open and a hand going for the back of her head. A throbbing pain began there and yet another in the curve of her neck. She winced. A collective chuckle arose from the men in the van, and Claire wasn’t sure just who to glare at first.
Davis was the closest, seated in the back with her. A dopey grin was on his face, and he leered at her. Claire ignored him and glanced toward the front of the van.
Simon was driving, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror at her. He was smirking. Eric was in the passenger seat, uninterested in what was going on. The tip of his cigarette burned brightly, and smoke drifted around him.
“So, Sleepy Beauty’s finally awake,” Simon said sarcastically. One eyebrow lifted and Claire caught sight of his dark gaze from the reflection of the mirror. She decided to glare at him. She knew he had intentionally swerved the van to make her hit her head.
“You did that on purpose.” Claire narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. She rubbed at the lump forming on the back of her head. It was tender and would probably leave a bruise. Simon let out a scoff and glanced at her again.
“And your point would be…?”
“You’re an asshole,” she muttered.
Simon merely glared at her, but left it at that. His eyes soon returned to the road. Davis chuckled and shook his head. A wide grin was on his face. He shook the medicine bottle and the pills within rattled loudly.
“Looks like I’m not the only one on the wrong side of Simon tonight,” he stated. He offered the pill bottle to her. “You will probably need these before the night is over.”
Claire rolled her eyes at him and refused with a shake of her head.
“No, keep them.” She stared coldly at him. “I’m not a dope-head, like you.”
This received more chuckles from the front seat. For a moment, a mean look came across Davis’ face, but he said nothing. Instead, he pocketed the pill bottle and turned his head away.
“Not like I need them now anyway… It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he muttered, barely audible to Claire.
With any thought of sleep gone from her now, Claire wondered just what to do in the stifling silence of the van. No one was speaking now, and it made her feel more than a bit uncomfortable. Then, someone switched on a radio and static filled the van. Eric turned the knobs as he searched for a station.
“Goddamn reception,” he said to himself. Simon didn’t order him to stop. He soon found a talk radio station, and they all listened without much interest to the topic discussed. Claire took advantage of the noise from the radio to ask Davis a question she had been longing to ask, but not within earshot of Simon. She looked at him and waited until he turned his not so glazed eyes to her. He looked slightly confused by her sudden attention on him.
“What the hell do you want?”
“Listen, dumbass, I just want to ask you something.” Claire kept her voice low, and Davis leaned forward. The scent of urine was strong around him.
“What is it?” Davis asked with his voice still as loud as before. He couldn’t take the hint that Claire’s whispered tones might’ve meant something.
“Keep your voice down,” she said. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant smell coming from him. “You smell like piss.”
Davis’ face reddened with embarrassment. He played it off with a cool air.
“Well, it’s not like Simon told us to pack extra clothes.”
“I know. I don’t need any excuses, it’s just….man…” She shook her head with disgust. The embarrassment burned more on Davis’ face. Claire quickly changed the topic back. She too, for some reason, had begun to blush.
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” Claire glanced toward the front. Was Simon checking the rearview mirror more often than necessary? Claire swallowed before she began in the softest tone she could manage while still being heard clearly by the man across from her.
“Do you really believe this nonsense about werewolves? I mean, do you actually believe Simon and Marcus have actually seen them?”
His face lost the blush entirely and was now just as white as before, perhaps even a little more so. He knotted his eyebrows together, as if he couldn’t make up his mind what to say.
“There’s some weird shit out there, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Yes, but do you really believe them?”
There was a moment of silence before Davis sighed.
“I believe them, yes.” Davis was sure this time to keep his voice down. “But have I ever actually seen a werewolf, in the wolf form? No. I haven’t.
“I’ve seen them before, in their human form. I know what they can do. I’ve witnessed preternatural speed and strength, firsthand.” He indicated his recent encounter with the werewolf, Jason.
“Like I told you before, there’s too much unexplained shit out there for it to not be true,” he said.
Claire hated to admit it, but he was right, up to a certain point. Weird stuff happened every day, things she couldn’t explain or even begin to understand, but as far as werewolves being real…
“I don’t believe him,” she answered, with a slight shake of her head. Her gaze drifted toward the front of the van. Simon’s eyes were focused on the road ahead. “I question a lot of the things he does. I mean, why is he after these people? What have they done?”
“Besides killing a lot of people?” Davis shot back at her, lifting an eyebrow. “A hell of a lot of shit has happened, Claire, if you haven’t realized.”
“How do you know they’ve killed anyone?” She immediately regretted bringing it up. Marcus and Davis had been colleagues, even though Marcus was several years older and didn’t seem the type of man to associate with a deadbeat like Davis. She wondered if he was still trying to get over his death. Davis stared at her, an annoyed look on his face.
“Sorry” she said quietly. “But, you know what I mean. Why is Simon trying to find them? How does he know they killed those people? Why is he doing this? Is he serious?”
Davis wasn’t listening to her anymore. He was looking away, a brooding look on his face. He was being his usual stubborn self. She wasn’t going to get any answers from him.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, fine,” she said and crossed her arms. She could be stubborn too. She leaned back in her seat and rested her head against the side of the van. This time, she wouldn’t fall asleep.
Instead, Claire stared at the roof of the van and pondered what she had just said to Davis. The young man had seemed uncertain with his answers. Did he really believe Simon, or was he just playing along? Claire figured she would probably never know.
Her ears tuned in to the local weather forecast as it came from the radio, but Claire soon tuned it out. She didn’t care what the weather would be. She had more important things to think on.
Claire glanced forward. She watched the illuminating beam of their own headlights upon the black pavement as they continued on their way.
Simon’s eyes flickered from the road to the rearview and caught her stare for a long moment. She felt those dark orbs staring straight through her, accusingly, and quickly she dropped her gaze.
The back of her head throbbed with pain, but she ignored it. She busied herself trying to look useful. A laptop rested nearby and she took it into her lap and switched it on. She could at least make a log of what was going on.
Then maybe later Claire could go back and find out just what it was that went wrong with everything. The electrical hum brought the machine quickly to life and Claire accessed the word processing program and began to type.
Simon had heard the entire conversation from his place in the driver’s seat. Even over the drone of the engine and the talk on the radio, he had heard Claire’s whispered uncertainties. It was taking a great deal of his self-control to keep from snapping at her.
He gripped the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Indentions of his finger placement were now a permanent part of the steering wheel. He took a deep breath a
nd tried to quell his anger as he exhaled.
It wasn’t working too well.
Simon’s mind ran in overtime. Claire was quickly becoming a problem. She was too smart for her own good, and not entirely as gullible as he had hoped. All his recruits couldn’t be like Davis, after all.
Davis was another story entirely. He had nearly fucked everything up, and Simon wasn’t too forgiving about that. He had finally thought of an idea to fully use Davis for his plan. Davis hadn’t lived up to Simon's other standards, so he had to improvise.
Simon smiled to himself and concentrated on the road. At the speed they were going, they would get there sometime during the day. They would wait until night, wait until no one was suspecting. He loved giving people a false sense of security.
If only he could keep from hurting anyone before then. Claire was grating on his nerves, and a momentary worry entered his mind. What if she found out what he was really all about? What if she turned the others against him? Then Simon’s loyal followers would be no more, and his plan would crumble before him.
And he worked too hard to let the plan fall apart now. He’d have to have a little conversation with Claire once they reached their destination, but for now, he would decide just what to say to her. And perhaps what the most effective threat would be in order to get his point across.
He glanced once more in the rearview as she typed away on the keyboard. He wondered what she was doing, but didn’t ask. At least she wasn’t asking nosy questions right now, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Eric shifted his weight in the seat beside him and tossed what was left of his cigarette butt out the window. A fresh one was lit up. Simon thought about doing likewise, but didn’t bother. He was thinking too heavily on something. He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and he looked at Eric. A smirk distorted Eric's face.
“You think Marcus saw it coming?” Simon casually asked the man. He personally had never liked the ex-detective, but he had connections and that was all that mattered to Simon. Eric chuckled. He never liked Marcus much either.
“Doubt it.” The dark-skinned man’s deep voice drowned out the sounds coming from the radio. “Marcus was stupid. Just what was he doing?”
Simon gave something akin to a one shoulder shrug and glanced back. Davis glared at him from his seat.
“Fucking up. Ask Davis. He’ll give us more details, I’m sure.”
Simon had wanted to interrogate Davis about Marcus’s unwanted involvement with Rose, but the young man had been too out of it for straight answers. Now that his eyes were without the glazed look, Simon hoped he would give him what he wanted.
“Fuck you, Simon,” Davis answered. Claire looked up from her laptop. Her gaze moved from Davis to Simon. She watched with apparent interest.
Simon kept his eyes on the road. When he spoke, his voice clearly demonstrated his anger.
“I would carefully be choosing my words if I were you, Davis. I thought you learned that from our last argument. Don’t feed me this bullshit about ‘investigating’. ”
Davis glared at Simon, but couldn’t find the words to retort. Claire waited. Davis seemed to want to say something. He wet his lips, taking Simon’s advice to heart as he began to think on what to say.
“I’m tired of your bullying, Simon. I’m tired of you fucking telling me what to do, who to kill… I’m fucking sick of it. Leave me the fuck alone.”
Simon let out a raucous laugh. Claire was suddenly confused. She looked at Davis for clarification, but his eyes had not left the visage of Simon in the rearview. Davis had killed someone on Simon’s orders?
“What did you think would happen, Davis? You think you would be on your own? Remember, without me, you wouldn’t even be sitting back there. You’d be dead. You’re involved, Davis, and have been from the moment you met me. If you don’t like following orders from me, then too bad.”
There was a pause as Simon looked back to the highway.
“Find someone else to whine to. I’m tired of your constant bitching. You’re nothing but a fucking, cowering pussy.”
Silence filled the van once more. Davis once more had lost any desire to speak. He stared heatedly at the back of Simon’s head. It didn’t take a smart person to realize Davis was pissed.
Claire was even more confused about things then she had been a few minutes ago. She stared blankly at Davis for a moment, glanced to Simon briefly, and then returned to her log.
Davis didn’t seem like the type to kill anyone. He seemed too cowardly, too fearful. He would rather run than pull the trigger. Davis wasn’t a killer. She decided it wasn’t possible. He soon interrupted her thoughts as he had found something he wanted to say.
“That was a long time ago, Simon, and I’m not proud of it. Can we drop it?” His voice was low, almost taking on a scary Simon-like quality.
Simon chuckled again while Eric raised an eyebrow.
“It wasn’t a long time ago, Davis. It was last year, but yes…I’ll drop it. Don’t worry. That secret is safe with me. ” His voice was too sarcastic, and he let out a long, fake sigh.
Glad to end the conversation there, Davis finally turned his gaze to Claire. He was still pissed, and his face showed it.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Claire quickly answered and returned her gaze to the laptop. There was so much secrecy going on, so much uncertainty and mistrust. Everything was just wrong. Werewolves, murder and lies. It was definitely not what she had expected or wanted, and here she was in the middle of it all.
Davis seemed just as reluctant a participant as she. He leaned forward in his seat, face in his hands, fingers locked in his hair. She almost felt sorry for him, but then quickly asked herself, how could she feel pity for someone when she didn’t know why she felt sorry for them in the first place?
Hopefully, things would reveal themselves soon, and Claire could rest without a sense of urgency and doom clouding over her. But, for now, she would have to endure everything. And she would do so in silence, obeying commands and waiting for the day when she could just get out.
Chapter Fifteen
The early morning had passed in a speedy blur on the highway. The sunset had been lost in the sky behind them. The chill in the air had lifted when the sun’s rays finally peeked through the clouds and upon the earth. It was uncomfortable against Rose’s back. They only had a few more miles to go before they reached their destination. She would endure it. She kept a tight hold around Jason’s waist.
They hadn’t spoken two words to one another after they had stopped the last time at a gas station to fill up the tank. Jason had been grim-faced and silent as he pumped the gas and Rose took the opportunity to take a much needed bathroom break.
It was in the dingy, enclosed restroom that she took stock of the situation fully. The harsh light cast weird and ugly shadows across her face and illuminated the dark circles under her eyes. She looked like shit.
Her long brown hair was a tangled mass from the constant wind rushing through it, and the snarls would need a good comb through. Her face was pale, as it had been for the past couple of days. If she wasn’t so definite on what she was, Rose would’ve guessed she was staring at a ghost.
Quickly, she averted her eyes from her reflection. She didn’t really want to see just how horrible she looked. This whole situation had left her feeling awful, and she didn’t really need to see the outer effect.
Rose washed her hands in the cold water from the faucet and used the sweet smelling pink soap from the dispenser on her right. More water was splashed onto her face, and the initial chill of it ran like a shock through her system. She dried her face and hands with a rough paper towel and left the suffocating place.
Jason had finished pumping the gas, had paid for it, and was now seated on the Interceptor. The engine roared when Rose stepped out. It drew attention from a passing couple who glanced in their direction.
For once, Rose wis
hed Jason would cut it out with the need for such dramatic flair. She didn’t want the unnecessary attention. She said nothing however and climbed onto the back of the bike. She ignored the stares of the man and woman. Her sigh was drowned out by the pulsing engine.
They left the parking lot, a morning haze covering the fields and roadways. It was still chilly enough that Rose shivered and she shifted her weight slightly so she was closer to the warmth of Jason’s back. If he noticed, he didn’t indicate so. The heat on Rose’s back was no longer uncomfortable, but soothing. She let the sun’s rays warm her backside. She had been too cold for too long.
She held tight to him for the rest of the drive, continuing to do so even when he slowed to the posted speeds in the residential areas. The morning people hardly regarded them. A few of the more friendly ones gave smiles and waves, but Rose didn’t feel like returning the gestures. She watched them with an indifferent stare.
Jason brought the bike to a halt as required at a stop sign, but did not pause longer than a few seconds. He was soon on the main road, moving onward.
She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and focused her attention on the area where they were. It was a familiar town, but the neighborhood in which they traveled was one she had not been too in a very long time. A small smile began to spread across her face.
The stone building up ahead was a welcome sight and Rose loosened her grip on Jason. She’d had no clue this was the place he had been talking about, the place that he had been taking her to all along. If she had known, she would’ve been more anxious about getting there.
And perhaps that was why he hadn’t. In any case, they were here now, just a few feet from the curb of the PRDI safe house, one of the few places Rose knew like the back of her hand.
It had been a second home to her, a place where she, Glen and a few others had traveled occasionally as children during hard times at the Paranormal Research and Development Institute. One memory came to mind, in light of recent events. And Rose wasn’t too keen on remembering it just now.
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