by Angela Foxxe
The leader was speaking to the camera. His voice was strained and gruff. He wore an expression on his face of permanent pain, as if just breathing hurt for this man.
“The undead are among us. People have said for years that we are total frauds and that we are out of our minds. But how can you argue with proof like that? The evil ones are here, and they are quickly going to wipe us all out. I urge all of you to gather what weapons you can, and we can beat this thing back where it came from. I don’t know what happened to John Wild, but we will find him or at the very least kill the creature that has consumed him.”
The next clip showed some drunk college kids who were all set to go and kill the werewolf. They were holding up signs and pictures of him and a wolf right beside it, telling the world about the awesomeness of the werewolf and how they were going to come and ask to be bitten so they could be werewolves too. Then, their college football team would be the best ever. John could do little else but roll his eyes.
After about ten more minutes of watching clip after clip of madness, he had to look away. It was worse than he had feared—half the people thought it was a joke, a quarter thought he was the real deal and wanted to kill him, and another quarter thought he was the real deal and wanted to become werewolves too. It was disgusting.
“What are you going to do? Those people mean business. They are just crazy enough to come after you,” Heather said all in one breath. She was freaking out.
John consoled her by wrapping her close to him in his arms. He whispered in her ear, “It will be okay.” John kissed her softly on the forehead, and she seemed to calm down a little bit.
His phone rang right then. Keith was on the line. “Oh, shit,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“I take it you heard?” John said.
“Yeah, but I don’t know how. That woman must have posted this stuff before she died. Sometimes there’s a delayed reaction for a great story going viral.”
“I don’t know what happened, but the cat is definitely out of the bag,” John said. “What do you think? Should we set up a press conference to deal with it? Or should we just let it go?”
“Well, I’m already being flooded with calls from every major network and news show who want to have segments with you. Something like this is interesting. I don’t think there has ever been a stunt like this for any celebrity. So, uniqueness—that’s going for us.”
John had to laugh. Good old Keith could find the silver lining in pretty much anything. The dude was gold.
“So, are you setting things up then? Does this mean I need to fly back right away?” John asked.
“No, not yet. I’m going to wait until the big dogs come rolling in. If you start on the small circuit, then the big ones won’t bother because your story’s already been told. Plus, it makes you seem small time. So for now, just continue to chill in your little hometown and have fun. It wouldn’t surprise me if everyone in that little town even knew about this already. So you might not be able to leave the house without being mobbed,” Keith said.
He paused a moment, and John could hear him doing his heavy breathing that he always did when he had some big ideas going. “Actually, you might be better off to stay indoors. You never know when some whack job will decide to take you out because he really thinks you are a werewolf,” Keith said.
It was odd to hear Keith say it like that. It made it funny.
John said goodbye and sat back down with his coffee.
“What did he say? That was your agent?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, that was him,” John replied. “He told me to just stay put and to avoid going outside. So I guess I’m a bit screwed.”
“Well, I’m sure we can think of some things to do to occupy ourselves,” Heather said, leaning in for a kiss.
Her lips were almost touching his when the bullets zipped two inches from their faces and slammed into the wall behind her.
John grabbed Heather and hit the floor. She groaned and screamed as her body bounced off the floor and a hail of gunfire let loose just inches overhead. This was really happening. John and Heather were being shot at. Some psycho must have known he was there and must have seen the news. They thought he was a wolf who had to be put down.
“Oh, my God!” Heather screamed as the gunfire continued.
From what John could tell, it was definitely several shooters, and they all had semi-automatic assault weapons. It was like being stuck in the middle of a war zone.
“Just stay down!” John shouted. He couldn’t tell right off-hand if the bullets were silver or not; they didn’t smell like it, but he could not always trust his sense of smell unless he was sufficiently transformed. And now was the worst possible moment to lose self-control of that.
The gunfire was continuing, riddling the house with bullet holes and destroying everything. John was so glad Heather’s dad wasn’t there. He would have been killed for sure. The wall that bordered his bedroom was totaled with bullet holes.
He had to do something to get them out of there.
He positioned his body so that it was now wrapped over top of Heather’s and held her tightly as he began to slink along the floor. They had to put more walls between themselves and the gunfire. And they had to get out of there because it was only a matter of time before the gunmen decided to walk inside to check their handy work.
The garage.
John remembered that the garage was attached to the side of the house. They could move in there and possibly hide out at the very least. He wasn’t sure there was a car in there that actually ran. Heather had not mentioned it, but maybe her father had something. The only other car on the property besides his was Heather’s beat-up old Pontiac that was probably ready for the graveyard by now.
They moved out of the kitchen and into the living room, crawling as fast as they could. John was still pressing hard on Heather to keep them both as flat on the floor as possible. She grunted with every slither across the carpet. He realized that her elbows and knees were getting scudded with rope burn. He didn’t seem to be having that problem, or he was he was too oblivious to that level of pain to even notice.
“Where are we going?” Heather shouted.
“We have to make it into the garage. We’ll be safer in there. Maybe there’s a way out of here,” John said. He felt odd telling her in her own house what might be the best possible way to go to escape danger. She didn’t seem to be focused on anything he said, though. He wasn’t even sure she could hear him, but Heather moved with increased intensity as if having a definite purpose and direction was the impetus she’d needed to kick start herself into action mode.
They made it to the door, and Heather quickly reached up and twisted the knob. The door flew open, and the two of them rolled into the garage. John shut the door behind him.
The garage was smaller than it looked from the outside. There was no car in sight, but there was a dirt bike in the corner that looked like it’d seen better days.
“Does that work?” John asked.
“My dad used to tinker with it. He got it from someone who had somehow gotten it submerged in water, and he made my dad a great deal. I’m not sure how reliable it is.”
“Well, if it starts up and can get us out of here, then that’s all we need.”
John hopped on the bike and opened the pressure gauge. He turned the key that was in place already and stepped on the kick start pedal. The engine moaned but did nothing. He kicked it again. Still nothing. Finally, he tapped into a bit of the wolf strength and kicked it a third time. The bike roared to life as Heather hopped on it. She wrapped her arms tightly around his torso and held on for dear life.
John pressed the button on the garage opener and revved the engine of the bike up while the door slowly opened. He held his breath as he waited for the right moment. He had to time this just perfectly or they would be mowed down by the gunfire. He had never attempted anything like this before, and he had no idea if it would actually work, but he decided he didn’t really have a cho
ice here. It was time to do or die.
He doubted that the gunfire would actually kill him, but he was certain that he could be severely injured by it and put down, possibly rendered unconscious by enough of it. Or they might just bounce off him like he was made of steel. But Heather would definitely be killed; that part he was certain of.
The door cleared just enough height as he let the bike come to life.
The bike lunged hard as Heather squeezed him with all of her might and the two of them screamed out of the garage, flying right past the gang of gun-toting psychos.
John caught just a glimpse of them as he sailed past, and they didn’t look at all like what he’d thought they would. They were not like the morons on the internet clips. This was a group of ten men, all dressed in suits, several of them wearing dark sunglasses, and they had arrived in a couple of large Hummers. It looked almost like a mob hit or something.
The gunmen quickly pointed the guns at them and fired, but John was able to outmaneuver them as he zigzagged out onto the roadway. He had never seen a dirt bike move that fast, and he wasn’t sure if it really had the capability, but apparently, his talents stretched further than he thought they did.
Or it might have been a huge stroke of luck that none of the men heard or saw the garage door opening over the roar of non-stop heavy gunfire, and by the time they did notice, he was already past them heading down the road and around the corner before they could adjust themselves accordingly.
The latter was most likely, but he liked to believe the one that made him sound like more of a hero.
CHAPTER 12
The house loomed in front of them as they rounded the corner on the long, winding driveway. John had expected the place to be much bigger, but it was really a fairly modest house, at least from the outside. Keith swore it was pretty sweet inside. It had four bedrooms, three baths, a huge kitchen, a dining room, and even a Jacuzzi and a sauna.
But from the outside, it just looked like any old house. It was not at all what he had hoped to find at the end of the half-mile long, winding, dirty driveway. But he figured that beggars couldn't be choosers.
After they’d left Heather’s house and had traveled for almost an hour on the dirt bike without any sign of their psycho friends, John had pulled over and they’d both made some calls. Heather had called her father to let him know that someone had shot up the house and that she was okay. John could hear her explaining the situation over and over again on the phone as if her father was just not understanding what was going on.
Meanwhile, John had called Keith to explain the good news to him.
“Wow… Wow…” was all Keith could say at first.
“I know there has to be more on your mind,” John had replied, trying to make a joke that didn’t work out very well. He hated it when a joke sounded funnier in your head.
“Okay, just hang tight. Do you have somewhere to go tonight? I assume you’re not going back to your hotel room. These people have to know you have a room in the city.”
“Yeah, I figured that. We just headed north for a bit. Now we’re trying to figure out our next move. Do you have any ideas?”
“Yeah, actually. It sounds like you aren’t far from Dayton. My grandparents’ old house is outside of there. They’ve both been dead for over ten years, but my parents keep the place in pretty good shape. They might sell it one day, but they aren’t sure at this point. You guys just go there. The key is under the mat.”
“Wow, that would be cool. But under the mat, really?” John had asked.
“Yeah, my parents still think it’s a genius hiding spot,” Keith had responded.
John had had to laugh. “Thanks, man. I guess we'll just chill there for now. How are things going with those network specials?”
“Still setting up things, but you have bigger things on your plate right now, it looks like.”
“Yeah, a few things. I’ll wait to hear from you. Thanks, man,” John had said, hanging up.
And now, they were there.
John found the key under the mat just as Keith said it would be and let them in. His jaw almost dropped to the floor as they stepped inside. The house looked like a fancy log cabin resort inside. They were standing in a big and spacious living room. A large plasma television set hung on the wall in front of a large dual recliner couch.
“Wow, this place is intense,” Heather said, walking past him. She was awestruck by the place right off the bat as she spun around a bit and stared at the high ceilings that served as a platform for the large, majestic looking ceiling fans that hung down.
John walked down the hallway, inspecting the bedrooms. One had been turned into a nice office, and the other two were guest rooms. They were both large and luxurious with the walls lined with books.
At the end of the hall was the master bedroom. It was twice the size of the other rooms, and it was amazing. A large canopy bed stood against the far wall. It looked so comfortable. John just wanted to hop on it and take a damn nap. That would have hit the spot right then.
In the corner, he could see the door for the master bathroom. He and Heather looked at each other and smiled as they walked to the bathroom and slowly pushed the door open. The master bathroom was magnificent. It contained a huge standing shower with a strong, sturdy showerhead.
On the other side of the bathroom was a large, six-person Jacuzzi that looked incredibly inviting. His body was starting to feel a bit tired and worn out, which he had not felt in a long time. John was starting to wonder why he would suddenly feel tired after some exercise. That was not at all like him.
“This is fantastic!” Heather said, walking over to the Jacuzzi.
“Yeah, it does look pretty sweet,” John agreed as he continued to inspect the bathroom. He had rarely seen a room that glowed as much as this one did. Every ounce of the surface sparkled. The whole place was kept in pristine shape. He imagined that he would have to thank Keith for this one. This was truly one of the nicest places he’d been in and stayed at. He felt like he might have to give Keith some money over this. But he probably wouldn’t.
“So, I guess we check the kitchen. Keith said there should be some food here that is still good,” John said.
“Oh, I think I need to work up an appetite first,” Heather replied. She turned on the water in the Jacuzzi.
“Being shot at and driving for two hours on the back of a dirt bike didn’t do that already?” John asked.
But Heather was already removing her shirt.
John felt a warm feeling beginning to move over him. It was still a new feeling; Heather was the only woman who had ever really made him feel this way. It was almost like his body responded to her in ways that he was just not able to understand fully. It was beyond simple lust and desire; he’d been there, as every man had, but what women never understood is when someone truly special took them to that next level. You couldn’t explain it, and you couldn’t rationalize it or reason it out; you just had to accept it and be glad that you were there to enjoy it.
John began to match Heather pace for pace with removing clothes. She dropped her shirt on the floor, revealing the large, soft breasts that lay beneath. John removed his shirt and dropped it. As if by instinct, his muscles clenched and relaxed, flexing for her without his consent. She smiled and gave a little giggle that melted his heart. He loved to be desired by this woman. He was used to women being attracted to him—he’d been blessed in that department. Now, he was a rich, famous football star—even though he hated to think of himself that way—and women really were flinging themselves at him, trying to contact him on social media, and even lining up outside the gates of his home at times. He was a desired man; it was not all it was cracked up to be, and he was more than sick of it.
But Heather’s desire was different. When she looked at him, he could feel the tingles moving up and down his arms and into his upper back. It was a connected mass transit system of feelings being guided by emotions and biology he did not want to start to comprehend.
Heather removed her jean shorts. They’d managed to stop at a dollar store and grab a few of them for the trip along the way; when they’d been attacked, she was wearing nothing more than an oversized t shirt that just happened to be lying on the bed. She said she had planned to change into something more comfortable, but honestly, John liked her better that way. She didn’t need to dress up in some sort of sex lingerie, although that would have been hot. But she was perfect and sexy just the way she was.
John unzipped his jeans and let them drop to his ankles, slipping off his shoes in the process, and stepping out of the pants. He was now standing there wearing nothing. He didn’t like to wear underwear. There was something freeing and primal about going commando. It made him feel closer to himself somehow.
Heather seemed genuinely surprised, and she definitely approved.
John placed his hands on his hips, allowing her to see the goods in all their glory. He was already getting hard, both from the cool breeze in the room rolling over him and cupping his gear and from the sight of the mostly nude Heather standing there.
“Well, that looks like fun,” Heather said. He loved it when she did the naughty voice, and his member stood at attention even stronger.
“Oh, it is,” John said. “Providing you know how to use it properly. Have you read the instruction manual?”
Heather played along. “Oh, I have. I’ve read it cover to cover, and I’ve even taken it for a few test rides. I know exactly how it handles.”
She turned around and bent over, removing her panties, sliding them slowly down her long, sexy legs to the floor. Her movements revealed it all to John perfectly. He began to stroke himself softly as he fixated his eyes on the sweet spots that dwelled in the smooth crevice of her ass. The sweet, starfish on top and the wet, dripping oyster below. It was a beautiful sight for him to behold.
The Jacuzzi was mostly full now, and Heather stepped inside of it slowly. She winced slightly as the hot water warmed her skin rapidly, and then she smiled at John. She was so ready for him. She waited a few seconds before lowering her entire body into the hot water.