That night, I scope out the park. There aren’t any wolves here, but there are a few people, and I snap pictures. Later, I examine them on my computer. Frank wasn’t among them, but they might be wolves. If they are… there are six in the pics. That would mean their pack has grown. Who knows how many more I’ll have to kill? I can’t tell if any of them have scars on their ears from the dagger earring, but one is wearing sunglasses and at night. Because one of the eyes had a stake in it? I wonder…
I mutter a curse. How many more wolves do I have to kill?
My sleep that night? Not good. The news flashed pictures of the happy family that had been murdered, and I see their smiles whenever I close my eyes.
In the morning, I listen to the radio as I drive around. Reports of another family being killed make me more furious than distraught. The Blood Moon pack has to be ended and sooner rather than later.
At a stoplight, I spy a gym. On a hunch, I pull over and park. The girl working the front desk doesn't look old enough to be employed. Good.
“Hi. I just moved here a few days ago, and I’m looking for a gym.”
“Great! We have brochures you can look at, here’s a class list, and you can take a tour—”
“I hate to ask, but what I need is to look at your members.”
“Oh, we don’t—”
“I know it’s not normally done, but I just learned one of my exes moved here a few months ago, and…” I swallow hard. “He… I should’ve gotten a restraining order on him.” I bite my lower lip. “If he goes here… He’s a bit of a meathead, and… It won’t be safe for me to be around him. I mean, you don’t want any issues here, right? Can I just take a quick peek?”
“I don’t know,” she says doubtfully.
“Or maybe you could just look up his name?” I suggest.
She nods slowly. “That can’t hurt, right?” she mumbles to herself. “What’s his name?”
“Frank Steiner.”
The girl doesn't even have to look on her computer. "Yeah, he goes here. Comes almost every day around five and doesn't leave until eight, but there are times when he'll come in the morning or later on."
I glance at my watch. “Oh, man. It’s seven now. Is he here?”
The girl’s eyes widen. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he is. You better go.” She stands and looks behind us at the glass windows that reveal a portion of the gym. “He’s not working out, so he could be showering. He’ll be leaving any minute. Go!”
“Thank you. Thanks so much.” I rush away, hop into my car, and peel out of there only to park within sight of the place. It’s getting dark already, and I want immediately for him to leave.
He doesn’t. Not until eight-oh-five. He must’ve been in the bathroom earlier.
Instead of hopping into a car, Frank walks, and I start to tail him. He’s not heading toward Penn Park, but another one, a closed one. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, but that could change. I have a feeling he’s the first to arrive.
Which means now is the time to strike. Strike and not fight.
I roll down my window and aim with my crossbow. Frank doesn’t stand still. He’s pacing fairly quickly, but I trail him with my crossbow for thirty seconds. His pace is even enough that I feel confident enough that I let the stake loose. It whistles through the air, and he knocks it aside.
Awesome.
I better hightail it out of here. There’s no way I’m going to fight him.
But I can’t back up. Three cars have pulled up, one in front, one behind, and one to my side. I’m pinned.
People climb out. Those people shift.
Ten. Including Frank, there are ten werewolves.
I’m a goner.
The werewolf with the missing eye jumps onto my hood. This car only cost me a thousand. It’s disposable as far as I’m concerned, and I thought it might come down to this. I can always buy another one.
I aim with my crossbow, aim, and fire.
The stake goes through the other eye.
The werewolf releases a howl. Somehow, the windshield doesn’t completely shatter. It just has a stake-sized hole in it and a ton of spider cracks. Only a blow or two would shatter it. The windshield’s been weakened.
I manage to grab my gun free when a werewolf opens my door. I’m not even sure how a paw could open it, but I’m already firing. The door-opener collapses, and I shoot the head again just to make sure he’ll stay down.
The staked werewolf thuds against the windshield. Somehow, he’s still not dead. How? The shot had been from close range! There’s no way the stake didn’t go through his eye to his brain!
But he’s banging and banging against the glass.
It’s going to shatter at any second. Glass is already falling here and there, so I just help it along by shooting him. The werewolf falls.
Several slam into the sides of the car on both sides. Idiots. They should be doing one side to try to teeter me over, but I’m not going to complain.
Another comes racing over. Frank. He jumps onto the hood of my car. I throw my car into reverse. Crunch! It slams into the other car, and Frank falls into the passenger seat.
I shoot him with the gun as I shift the car into drive and floor it forward. At the last second, I yank hard on the wheel so the corner of the car hits the one in front of me instead of the impact being head-on. I do not need the airbags to deploy.
Frank slashes at my arm, but I keep on firing. I can’t look to see if I’m hitting him at all. I mean, he’s a massive wolf. You would think I have to be connecting, but he’s not howling. He doesn’t sound like he’s in pain.
The other werewolves are chasing after me, trying to bite my tires. Wow. Now that’s smart! But I leave them in the dust.
Trapped in a car.
With a bloodthirsty werewolf.
Is that why he seems to be bullet resistant? Is the blood making him stronger somehow?
“What is wrong with you?” I ask. “Did Amarok change you? But why the sudden change? Why are you so thirsty for blood all of a sudden?”
I risk a glance over. My foot is lead on the gas. I have to be going close to eighty, and it's twenty-five here.
He grins at me. His fur is wet, slick with blood, but he lunges at me, aiming for my neck.
I drop the gun and give him a hook right in the side of his face, the silver knuckles striking against his teeth and gums.
At the moment I struck him, I slam on the brakes. My seatbelt burns against my chest from the force of the sudden impact, but it keeps me in the car.
Frank? He flies through the windshield.
I don’t bother to try to run him over. I just keep on driving and head out of the city and pull over once there’s grassland all around me.
Wonderful. This is just fantastic. What in the world am I supposed to do now?
There’s only one thing I can do.
I can't do all of this alone. That much is clear. Somehow, there are eight werewolves left. Yes, even after being thrown from the car and landing hard on the pavement, Frank still got up on his feet and tried to run after me as I drove away.
Eight versus one? Because I’ll never be able to get them separated again.
I really don’t like those odds. Not at all.
I grab my phone when there’s a howl. It’s not close but close enough.
Muttering a curse, I keep on driving, getting to the highway as quickly as I can. Five exits down the road, I get off and pull over into an open gas station.
I’m debating whether to park and go inside or to stay in the car when I see a pickup truck. The driver’s earlobe hangs down, all scarred and deformed. In the bed of the truck are six people, and beside the driver is another.
All eight of the werewolves. How the hell are they following me?
I race out of there, slamming the undercarriage as I peel out of the gas station. They’re hot on my heels, and I go faster and faster until I actually have some space between us. My body jerks against the seatbelt as I slam to a stop and reverse it. The poor engine whines as I fly backward, and I crash into the pickup hard.
I have to be careful. I need this car to stay drivable. It is for now, thankfully, and I drive away, weaving between the lanes, zigzagging through cars. I don’t know if it’s good or bad that there’s traffic now. It’s not overwhelming, but still, I do not want people to get caught in the crosshairs.
For hours I drive, no destination in mind, just wanting to keep going for as long as possible. The sun's up by the time I limp my car into a gas station. I'm so glad Pennsylvania isn't like Jersey. No full pump here. Well, there might be a few stations that offer it but not here, and that's all that matters. I don't need anyone to see my car like this.
As the gas flows into my tank, I circle the car. Man, the damage is severe, but nothing is impeding the wheels at all, and from what I can tell, nothing is leaking. It's mostly just the body. The werewolves threw themselves hard at the car, and the back doors on either side won't open. Neither will the side passenger door. I'm so glad the driver's side door does.
Only the driver's side door won't shut when I'm ready to leave. I try to pull it gently and to slam it hard. Nothing. It won't latch. Finally, I climb out and have to shimmy and lift the door for it to close. The only way I can get back in is to climb through the broken windshield. I so hope I'm not sitting on tiny glass shards. I don't feel anything right now, but if the shards work their way through my clothes…
I’m not even sure where I am, but that doesn’t matter. I haven’t slept or eaten in a while, but that doesn’t matter either.
Quickly, I call Mirella. It rings and rings and rings and goes to voicemail.
“Mirella. Hey, it’s Rebel. Yeah, I might be in a little trouble. I… Why am I even calling you? You’re in California. Forget it. Not in trouble. Everything is just fine. Totally fine. I’m good.”
Man, she is not going to want to be friends with me anymore. I’m too flighty, and I’m going to sound like a bumbling idiot when she listens to the message.
Next, I call Vinca.
“Hi!” she says, and my heart leaps. “You’ve reached the voicemail box of the future Aeden Elms. Leave a message as long or short as you like, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Never stop flapping your wings!”
Her voicemail message is cute, but so not what I want to hear right now. She’s probably busy with Aeden.
Um… Let’s see. Next, I call Azir. Yes, I’m pulling at strings a little, but I really am that desperate.
“Azir, hi. Listen, I need—”
“Rebel, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have even answered, but I felt like I need to because of what you did for Ruka and I. We’re working a case right now, and—”
A loud bang goes off in the background.
“I gotta go. Sorry. Bye.”
He hangs up.
I scroll up and down through my contacts. The number of people I’m willing to call isn’t high. I need to trust him or her to have my back, and most of these are all clients. Not going to happen.
And then I see a number that I have absolutely no idea how it got into my cell.
Am I really that desperate?
I am.
It rings twice.
“Hello?”
“Darius.”
“Rebel.” He sounds pleased. Why does he sound pleased?
"A pack of werewolves is on my tail. Eight of them. I wounded one at least, but they seem to be tracking me somehow, and I don't know if I lost them or not."
“Where are you?”
“I’m not even sure. Well, I’m at a gas station, but I don’t know the city.”
“Come back to Pittsburgh.”
“Why haven’t you gone back to Harrisburg?” I mumble.
“Why don’t you come back?” he asks.
“I don’t want to lure them back there. These werewolves…”
“You have to kill them.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re asking for my help.”
“Yes.” I hesitate. “I’m not being paid in cash this time around, but I can pay you—”
“Stop. I’ll come.”
“I can get back on the road and tell you where I am.”
We stay on the phone, and I soon realize I’m in Erie. I definitely didn’t drive the most direct route here, but I’m hours and hours away from York.
“I’ll be there as quickly as I can,” Darius says. “Do you want to stay on the line with me as I drive over? It should only take about two hours, a straight enough shot up I-79.”
“Yeah, no. I’ll pass.”
“What if they show up again?”
“I’ll hit the road.”
“You won’t fight them?”
“Not again, not alone.”
“Rebel…”
“I don’t need a lecture, and I don’t need a two-hour conversation with you. I’m running on adrenaline right now, and I’m not necessarily in the best of moods.”
"Are you hurt at all?" I hear his ignition start.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I rub my chest. It aches from where the seat belt rubbed me raw a few times. “Just get here ASAP, okay?”
I hang up and bite my lower lip. I really hope that I didn’t just sign Darius’s death certificate. It’s quite possible neither of us will get out of this alive. The werewolves… they aren’t normal. There’s something wrong with them, and I don’t know for certain that we’ll get out on top.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.