The Werewolf Chasers (Book 3): Wolf Hunt 3

by Strand, Jeff

  Eugene was so frantic that he almost wanted to cry. He could carry out a plan if it was explained to him, but they'd never considered the idea that J.P. might follow them all the way from Georgia to New Mexico. Eugene's job was to wait for Ally, George, and Lou to come out of the building so he could drive them away. He could handle that. Now he had to make up a new plan on the spot and he had no idea what to do.

  "I'd like to make you a deal, Eugene," said J.P. over the phone. "I've always liked you. You've been through a hell of a lot and you deserve some peace in your life. Surrender and there will be no punishment. Clean slate between us. You were doing this for Ally, but I'm going to encourage you to think about what's best for Eugene. She's a very sweet girl. But she's also a naïve girl, and she's going to get you killed. Give yourself up. This offer expires very soon, so all I want to hear from you is a yes or a no."

  "No."

  "That's your answer?"

  "That's my answer," said Eugene, feeling sick to his stomach.

  "All right."

  * * *

  One of the babies was almost all mouth, and that mouth was clamped over George's right eye. Lou wanted to help him try to yank it away, but he couldn't make it over there. Some of these babies were shockingly strong.

  Pain shot through Lou's left foot. If he weren't wearing shoes, he was sure the baby would have bitten a couple of his toes off. He was covered with bites, and probably a few bruises from suction—one in particular seemed to be trying to nurse from his bicep.

  The bodyguards continued to laugh. They were absolutely loving this show. He and George's grotesque predicament must've been a rare treat for them.

  Then Lou came up with an idea. He had no way to convey it to George, so it would have to be a solo effort. He just had to get the bodyguards even more engrossed by the spectacle.

  "My ass!" Lou shrieked. "One is burrowing into my ass!"

  One of the babies was not, in fact, burrowing into Lou's ass. But he was covered with blood and goo and deformed creatures and the bodyguards probably wouldn't be able to tell that he was lying.

  "Jesus Christ! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

  Lou hadn't known these gentlemen very long, but everything about their interactions thus far seemed to indicate that they were the kind of people who would want to get a closer look if somebody had a misshapen lycanthrope infant trying to burrow deep into his ass.

  He didn't need them to lean so far over the edge that they toppled into the pit, though that would be nice. He just wanted them to have their center of gravity a little more unbalanced than was safe for them.

  As he wailed about his burrowing issue, Lou felt around for a baby that he could get a solid grip on. They were all slimy and soaked in blood, but one of them was actually furry, which made it easier to hold. Though it wasn't football shaped, he hoped it would be sufficiently aerodynamic.

  "My ass! My ass! Get it out of my—"

  Lou flung the baby at one of the bodyguards.

  Direct. Fucking. Hit.

  The bodyguard cried out in surprise as it splattered across his face. Then his arms pinwheeled as he began to topple forward.

  The other bodyguard reached out to steady him, but he'd also been taken by surprise by the hurled infant, and he missed. His partner lost his balance completely and fell into the pit.

  He landed at the edge, where there were far fewer babies to break his fall. It was a ten-foot belly flop onto a rock floor, and when he got up, the blood all over him wasn't all from the buckets.

  The other bodyguard disappeared from sight.

  Lou was suddenly energized by the fact that his crazy plan had worked, and George seemed to feel the same. Lou tried to make his way over to the wall, waving for George to do the same.

  The bodyguard transformed into a full wolfman.

  Shit.

  The werewolf snarled and charged.

  * * *

  "I don't...I don't really know him," said Ivan.

  Asher punched a staple into Ivan's chest. Ivan screamed and took a swipe at Asher's face.

  "Uh-oh," said Asher. "Somebody's getting aggressive." He gestured, and the two replacement bodyguards quickly helped hold Ivan down.

  "I'm telling the truth!" Ivan insisted.

  "I never accused you of lying," said Asher. "But if you don't have useful information for me, why shouldn't I just keep injecting silver staples into you until there's nothing left?"

  "He wanted me to gain your trust and then kill you."

  "That was quite a miscalculation on his part. My trust is very difficult to gain. What kind of incentive did he offer you?"

  "He threatened my grandmother."

  "I don't know your grandmother. I'm sure she's quite a lovely woman. But I'm here to make life better for werewolves. I'm allowing them to exist without discovery. By coming after me, whether it's to protect your dear old grandmother or not, you're a traitor to your own kind."

  "He...he said you tortured werewolves."

  "No, he didn't. That was a lie. I said I could tell when people are lying to me and you've chosen to lie. Now how can I trust anything else you say? I have more questions, but as far as I'm concerned they can be answered by the little girl werewolf."

  "I wasn't lying!" said Ivan. "I was wrong, okay? I was wrong! But that's because you're jabbing goddamn silver staples into me! I can't think straight!"

  "You were never thinking straight," said Asher. "Not from the moment you first made it onto my radar. And I am perfectly happy to fill your lying body with smoking craters."

  As the bodyguards held Ivan down, Asher stapled a sizzling path up his leg.

  * * *

  J.P.'s phone beeped.

  He switched to the tracing app. Ivan had gone offline.

  If Ivan was dead, the chip in his thigh would still send a signal. Same thing if he was dismembered. It could be a technical glitch, but if the chip was no longer transmitting, J.P. had to assumed it had been destroyed. Either they'd dug it out of him, or it had been destroyed inside of Ivan's leg. Though it was resistant to high and low temperatures, it wouldn't keep working if he was set on fire.

  Either way, Ivan was no longer an asset.

  George and Lou sure as hell weren't going to get the job done. Ally probably joined Asher's team as soon she stepped into the building.

  It was time for J.P. and his werewolves to start some chaos.

  * * *

  George had felt slightly optimistic for the first time since plummeting into the pit. This was why he and Lou made a good team: George would have never thought to fling a deformed creature at the assholes leering at them from above.

  Of course, now they had a werewolf down here with them, which wiped out his optimism.

  But the "flinging hideous creatures" idea was stuck in his mind, so he grabbed one of the babies by the tail—this particular one had a tail—and hurled it at the werewolf. Not a perfect hit, but it got him in the stomach. Feral beast or not, nobody enjoyed this sort of thing.

  The werewolf reacted poorly. If he was anything like Ivan, he was developed enough to retain his human thoughts, and his human thoughts were probably something like "This is horrible! This is disgusting! Get me the hell out of here or I'll never get another night of restful sleep in my life!"

  Lou picked up on this vile tactic, and also grabbed one of the creatures. It bit his hand and he immediately dropped it. He picked up another one and threw it at the werewolf. The werewolf quickly moved out of the way, then slipped on some gore and fell. Under normal circumstances, a werewolf pratfall might be hilarious, but as when Ivan had a regular-sized human head on a large wolfman body, it was less amusing in context.

  Lou ran in the opposite direction, kicking a few babies out of his way in the process, and slammed himself against the wall. "Climb me!" he shouted to George.

  George hurried over to him. He stepped on a creature that popped so violently that a scrap of its flesh shot up and hit the underside of George's chin. Lou already had a
baby gnawing on his ankle, but George wasted no time—he climbed onto Lou as if receiving a piggyback ride, then climbed onto his wet, slick shoulders.

  The other bodyguard kicked George in the face.

  It was a brutal kick. At other times in his life it might have been the worst thing to happen to him all week. Right now, while he definitely felt it, the kick wasn't even enough to knock him off of Lou's shoulders.

  He grabbed the bodyguard's leg. The bodyguard transformed but not quickly enough to keep himself from being yanked off balance. He tumbled forward, crashing into George on his way into the pit. George fell off Lou's shoulders, and Lou fell onto his back, the three of them landing hard.

  George and Lou were far from acclimated to their dreadful environment, but at least they were over the initial shock. The bodyguard was not, so he had a moment of panic while George and Lou reverted right back to their "George climbs Lou" plan.

  The first bodyguard, still fully wolfman, decided to steal their tactic. He picked up a creature in each claw and flung them with such force that it was like launching a pair of cannonballs. He shouldn't have gotten greedy by throwing two. What he had in intensity he lost in accuracy, and the infants exploded against the wall.

  George was not a limber man, but he climbed up onto Lou's shoulders like an Olympic gymnast, and then crawled out of the pit.

  The second werewolf pounced on Lou.

  George frantically looked around the basement. There wasn't much down here except the pit itself, but a wooden ladder, stained with blood, rested on its side against the wall. He felt bad for whoever had to make use of that ladder in the course of their duties.

  He grabbed the ladder, placed the bottom of it against the edge of the pit, adjusted his aim, waited a few seconds for the exact right moment, then slammed it down into the pit, bashing one of the werewolves in the face. He raised it a couple of feet, then bashed the werewolf again.

  The werewolf backed away, and then found itself distracted by a couple of the babies.

  Lou jumped onto the ladder.

  The other werewolf grabbed Lou's foot by the ankle.

  It was slick with blood and popped free when Lou hurriedly climbed the ladder.

  George's plan was to pull the ladder out of the pit as soon as Lou made it to safety, but the werewolf climbed on before Lou reached the top. So the instant Lou got off, George shoved the ladder as hard as he could, making it topple backwards. The werewolf slammed against the bottom of the pit, hopefully getting bashed in the face with the ladder upon impact.

  They were free!

  But the werewolves were down there with a ladder, so there was no time for a victory dance. George and Lou rushed for the elevator and pressed the call button.

  "I don't feel invulnerable anymore," Lou admitted.

  The ladder came back into view as the doors opened. They got into the elevator and George desperately pushed the "Door Close" button over and over, even though he was pretty sure he'd read that it was just a psychological tool and that the button didn't actually do anything.

  The elevator doors closed.

  "Should we go back to the first floor?" George asked.

  "Yeah. It's the only way we'll have the element of surprise. Those guys will be right on our tail."

  George pressed the "1" button. While the elevator rose, he turned around and threw up.

  The elevator doors opened.

  George and Lou stepped out into the waiting room, which was now empty.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ritual Sacrifice

  "You have very good bone structure," Asher told Ivan. "Look at it."

  Ivan had passed out from the pain. Asher supposed he didn't blame him. Asher was perfectly content with the skull already on his desk, so most likely he'd just fling Ivan's remains into the pit when it was all over.

  "Let's take him to the Ceremony Room," Asher told his guards. They nodded, picked up the stretcher, and carried Ivan into the elevator. Asher followed. The Ceremony Room was on the third floor, the same floor as Asher's office, so when they exited the elevator his guards carried the stretcher to the left while Asher walked to the right.

  The whole assassination thing was a source of concern, but he'd get the information he needed—if he couldn't break a teenaged girl, he deserved to be murdered—and deal with the situation based on that. Based on whom they'd sent, it was not a well-coordinated effort.

  He sat at his desk and pressed the intercom button.

  * * *

  "Ladies and gentlemen, please report to the Ceremony Room immediately," said Asher's voice over a speaker.

  "If you had a Ceremony Room, which floor would it be on?" George asked Lou.

  "I don't know. Do we want to go to the Ceremony Room? If everybody is gathering there, it sounds like a pretty bad place for us to be."

  "What's your suggestion?"

  "We find Ally and get the hell out of here. We'll tell J.P. that Ivan sold us out. At some point he has to understand that we're in a no-win situation."

  "Would Ally be going to the Ceremony Room?" George asked. "Maybe that's how they welcome new people. It could be something in her honor."

  "Then should we go back down into the basement and try to kill those two werewolves before they blab that we're free?"

  "No, I don't want to do that."

  "Then what?" Lou asked.

  "A distraction. What if Asher's new buddy Ivan suddenly started to melt right in the middle of the welcoming ceremony? I'll try to find the right room without being seen. You go back to Eugene, call J.P., and tell him to use The Melt on Ivan."

  Lou nodded. "That's a shitty plan, but when have we ever had a good one?"

  * * *

  "We don't like liars here," Bonnie told Ally. "It's an environment of mutual respect and trust. That's how we survive."

  "I'm sorry," said Ally. "But as soon as I got here you separated me from my friends and told me I had to follow orders. I'm not going to just lie down and take a nap when I don't know what's happening with George and Lou."

  "And Ivan," said Bonnie.

  "Yeah, and Ivan."

  "Is he not your friend?"

  "He's kind of an asshole, actually."

  Bonnie slapped her.

  "I don't appreciate you using that sort of language, young lady."

  Ally raised her hand. It was just an angry reflex—she wasn't really going to slap the old woman back.

  Her hand was a wolf claw.

  A partial transformation!

  Bonnie nodded approvingly. "You're further along than I anticipated. Who taught you?"

  Ally clicked her talons together. "I'm going back downstairs. Don't try to stop me."

  Asher's voice sounded over a speaker: "Ladies and gentlemen, please report to the Ceremony Room immediately."

  Bonnie smiled. "It sounds like something important is going to happen. I'm sure you don't want to miss it. And don't you dare threaten me again, or I will rip your arms right out of their sockets and slash your throat with your own claws. That is a literal threat, not a figurative one, so take it very, very seriously. Let's go to the Ceremony Room and see what he wants."

  * * *

  Eugene got out of the truck, taking the gun with him. J.P. could trace him, but it would be a little more difficult if he were outside the identifiable automobile.

  He hurried down the block toward the werewolf building. Just as he reached it, J.P. walked around the corner, followed by a dozen other people. Eugene recognized them all—they were the werewolves from the compound.

  Eugene pointed the gun at J.P. Everybody stopped walking.

  "Put the gun down, Eugene," said J.P.

  Eugene shook his head.

  "What's your plan, freak?" J.P. asked. "Do you have thirteen bullets in that gun? Because unless you have thirteen bullets in a six-shooter, this doesn't end well for you. And I know for a fact that at least one of those bullets has already been used."

  "I don't want anybody else to get hurt,"
said Eugene, forcing his hand not to tremble. "But I need you to leave. Go back to the compound."

  "He murdered Wesley," J.P. told the others. "Executed him."

  There were gasps of horror and surprise from the other werewolves.

  "J.P. told Wesley to murder Ally and I," Eugene insisted. "I was defending myself."

  "You should really stop lying. You're terrible at it. I'd tell you to at least practice in a mirror or something, but if I were you, I wouldn't want to look in a mirror either."

  Eugene wasn't going to let insults mess with his concentration. "J.P. is a terrible person," he announced. "If you're with him, you're on the wrong side."

  "Yes, they're on the wrong side, the side that gave them food, and clothing, and shelter, and training. I'm not the one waving a gun around, Eugene, you are. And there will definitely be a car passing by before too long, so do you really want to be standing there holding a group of people at gunpoint?"

  "If you don't turn around and leave, I will shoot you," said Eugene. "And if anybody else comes after me, I'll shoot as many of you as I can. Please, turn around. Everybody."

  The front door to the building opened and Lou stepped outside. He was covered in blood and gook, and seemed quite surprised to see a crowd outside, especially one comprised of J.P. and the werewolves from the compound.

  "What the fuck happened to you?" J.P. asked.

  "J.P.! Just the person I wanted to talk to! What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Is that your blood? Whose blood is that? What's that thing stuck to your shirt?"

  "Ivan totally sold us out," said Lou. "They're getting ready to do some sort of ceremony where they welcome him into the fold or something, and I need you to do The Melt on him."

  "We're going inside," said J.P. "Eugene, put the gun away."

  Eugene didn't lower the gun.

  "It's okay, Eugene," Lou assured him.

  Eugene supposed he could trust Lou. He stuffed the gun into the waist of his pants.