Wolverton, Julie Steimle [interesting novels in english .txt] 📗

ahead after the distant-smelling deer and far away from the blood of that man who for years had tried to create opportunities to shoot him. Yet as Rick ran through the grass after their prey, he was sure he had smelled Bengay. And the smell was getting more distant.

 

The hunt took longer this night. One deer had gotten away entirely. But the pack took down the other two, then they called for the weak, too young, and infirm to join them. The feast wasn’t as celebratory as the night before. It was hungrier. More animal. More savage. The threat of the hunter reminded them all that they too could be prey.

But once the pack had their fill, most went back to the barbecue, Rick and Daisy included. The mood was spoiled, and he needed to sit down and talk with the elders about the SRA, whom he knew would send more hunters to find out what had happened to this one. It felt a little strange, though, having these discussions in the open air next to the bonfire, everyone walking around like a nudist colony.

 “So, this SRA is a large organization?” one of the elders asked to clarify. “How large?”

Massaging his achy forehead, Rick explained, “The SRA is a hunting guild with connections worldwide. They don’t just go after werewolves. They also hunt vampires and witches and all other sorts of things they think are dangerous.”

The elder wolves stared at him. But they believed him also.

“They have connections in the FBI, CIA, and the NSA as well as the army,” Rick said. He shook his head, thinking about it. “If they knew there was pack of werewolves here, I can only imagine a SWAT team coming in with Uzis and massacring all of you.”

The elders shared looks. Some of them nodded, cringing.

One of them scoffed. “How would any of them know? There was just the one man.”

Rick shook his head. “I don’t think so. I smelled—”

“You can’t smell anything we can’t smell,” Mr. Blithe interjected. He had stayed nearby, watching Rick while his glare blamed him entirely for the hunter.

Snarling at him, Rick bit back, “I smelled Bengay not long after we went after the deer. Mr. Whidbee’s office reeks of it. And knowing that particular hunter, I would not put it past him to bring Mr. Whidbee along.”

“Why would he do that?” Mac asked, examining Rick’s desperate expression. Mac had lingered near him the entire time, genuinely worried for him.

Looking to him—the man who truly knew Mr. Whidbee—Rick said, “That hunter once dragged an antagonizing guy I knew along on a hunt to use him as bait.”

“Bait?” Daisy gasped. She had been listening intently, having never left Rick’s side.

He nodded to her. “Yes. Bait. He was trying to get me to bite that guy, so he had probable cause to shoot me. The SRA are not legally allowed to kill werewolves when they are human, as it would constitute as murder. And more, they have to have proof that the wolf is a man-eater.”

The elders drew in breaths.

“I have no doubt he probably brought along unsuspecting Mr. Whidbee to be bait for me, but they stumbled upon the bonfire and saw more than they had expected. I am sure that if Mr. Whidbee was here, then he ran back to the factory or the nearest road where he had a car.” Rick clenched his hair, realizing this was most likely the case. He had to go. He had to stop Mr. Whidbee from calling the SRA for backup. There were no doubts in his mind that the hunter would have given Mr. Whidbee an SRA card with a phone number, as it was practice.

“I need to get back to the factory,” he said.

“So early?” Daisy gasped, almost pawing his chest to keep him with her.

He looked to her, knowing their time together was over—at least for now. And though he still craved to be with her, this was more urgent. He nodded.

“Yes,” he looked then to the elders. “You are all in danger. I can stall him, but you all need to evacuate.”

“You can stall?” Mr. Blithe growled out, scoffing.

“I am a famous werewolf,” Rick snapped at him. “I can easily be a distraction. Besides, I have the means and the funds. I just need a telephone.”

“I’ll go back with you to the factory,” Mac offered.

Rick nodded to him, “Thanks.”

Mr. Blithe shook his head in disgust, but backed away.

Daisy pulled close to him. “This is not fair. We only had a little time together. And now this night is ruined. Can’t you delay just a little longer? I want to be with you.” Her eyes were begging.

And his nether regions wanted to say yes. However, he maintained control of himself as he replied, “I really wish we did have more time, but I’ve gotta save your life and the life of our baby. Ok?”

She nodded, though she looked extremely sorry. Daisy kissed him passionately, holding him against her. He almost could not pull himself from her, so drawn in. However, at the urging of Mac, he let go, squeezed her hand and rushed to the changing room to get his clothes.

“Wash off your blood first,” Mac said as he followed him in, pointing to the sinks alongside the wall. Rick had not seen them before. He blinked at them for a second, and the plumbing. However, Rick immediately went to the sinks and scrubbed off the blood stain with the cloths and soap there as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

“Wow, you wash fast,” Mac murmured, washing not quite as swiftly.

Chuckling painfully, Rick said as he grabbed his shorts, pulling them on, “I have to do this a lot. Lone wolves don’t have the leisure time after a hunt like you pack wolves do.”

Mac nodded, sorry for him and yet understanding him more.

They both fully dressed, then ran out of the room to Mac’s truck. Rick took passenger side.

Daisy ran to the door and held out a pen and a card, tearing it in half. She stuffed both in his hands. One had writing on it. “Write your phone number and email. You will visit me, right? As soon as you can?”

Leaning out the window, he kissed her. “As soon as I can.” He wished he could do more, as her scent enticed him, but he grabbed the blank card and wrote on it instead. “Call me and keep me updated. As soon as you guys are settled, let me know the location. You can send a post card. I’ll come once it is safe and no one is following me.”

She nodded, kissing him again while taking the filled-out card.

But Mac revved the engine, telling them to stop so they could go.

Breaking apart, Rick watched her as they rolled out of Wolverton.

“Man… I know they said it, but you really are whipped,” Mac muttered.

Rick massaged his forehead, thinking of how he can get back to her. There was so much that would get in the way. “Where do you think the pack will move to?”

Shrugging, Mac steered on the dirt road until he finally connected to a paved road. “I don’t know. The elders know a few ghost towns around the country. But uprooting in one night is a hard thing. We’ve got a good life here. Jobs.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah… problem is, it won’t last if you guys hang around long. You pack wolves may have the best lifestyle for a wolf, but I know what happens when you are the hunted.”

Chucking, Mac shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Our pack is of ancient blood. Our elders know what they are doing.”

But thinking more on it, Rick said, “But I bet I could arranged for Dad to set up jobs for you guys. I mean, most of the pack worked day shift at our factory—and we’re going to lose you, aren’t we?”

Mac nodded. “Afraid so.”

He wondered how that would affect business. This entire thing was a complete mess. He hoped his father would do it, give them jobs somewhere else. It would make it easier to see Daisy again. Maybe he could get them to move up to Massachusetts.

 They arrived at the factory. Mac was about to jump out with Rick, but Rick turned around and said, “No. You go back and help your pack evacuate.”

“But don’t you need my help?” Mac asked, worried.

Rick shook his head and painfully smiled. “No. This is my territory. All I need is my cell phone and everything else will fall into place.”

“Then I will help you get that,” Mac said, getting out of the truck.

Giving up, Rick let him march with him into the factory. Turned out, he need Mac to use his electronic key card to get inside anyway. He let Rick right in.

The night shift was full into motion. They could hear the factory thump thump with machine life. The workers inside stared as the big boss’s missing son showed up with Mac Ulfur, especially at Rick Deacon being barefoot, dirty, and bedraggled. Some cheered that Mac had found him, making mocking catcalls at the CEO’s runaway son.

“Where is my cell phone?” Rick asked Mac, ignoring the workers.

“In Mr. Pettit’s office.” Mac led the way, waving to a few friends to avoid looking suspicious.

They went up a set of metal stairs then came to a locked door at the end of a hallway. Mac kicked it open.

Rick peered at him. “A bit much?”

“I won’t be working here later anyway,” Mac said with a shrug. “I figured why not? It’s not like you’re gonna fire me.”

Chuckling, Rick went in and searched for his phone. He found it on the top of a filing cabinet. He quickly dialed his father.

It went directly to voice mail.

“Dad, there has been a complication. I can’t talk now, but uh, Mr. Whidbee is going to be a problem. I need you to call me back ASAP. I got my phone back.” He then pressed END and looked to Mac. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be ok from here on.”

But Mac shook his head. “We need to visit the boss.”

Sighing, Rick nodded and joined him.

They marched to Mr. Whidbee’s office.

Rick knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Mr. Whidbee’s voice was shaking.

Mac spoke. “Boss? Are you in there?”

“Come back later,” Mr. Whidbee called out. “I’m busy.”

Rick twisted the door knob to see if it was locked. It wasn’t, surprisingly. But then the lock switch was still on the outside. They really had changed it due to his arrival at the factory, and apparently had not changed it back. Standing back, Rick took a picture of it on his cell phone. This was evidence enough that they intended to bully him that month.

Then he opened the door and stepped in. 

The moment he saw Rick, Mr. Whidbee screamed.

Then Mac walked in. He said, “I found him.”

“Mr. Ulfur, get away from him! Quick now,” Mr. Whidbee shouted, face ashen and coated with sweat. The room was still rank with Bengay, and for some reason it smelled ten times stronger than before.

Mac walked up to the manager, shaking his head. “Uh… no. He’s the boss’s son. You said to find him. I found him and brought him back.”

Mr. Whidbee ran to his desk drawer and pulled out a gun. He pointed it at Rick.

Rick held up his hands. “Big mistake, Mr. Whidbee.”

“Mr. Ulfur, get behind me!” Mr. Whidbee’s face accumulated another coating of sweat. For some reason Rick got the impression of Humpty-Dumpty cracking up on his own—no need to fall off a wall. Breathing hard, the manager’s hands were shaking as he pointed the pistol at Rick.

Mac moaned, peeking at Rick. “And you thought you could handle this?”

“It’s not the first time someone has pointed a gun at me,” Rick explained. Then his eyes set on Mr. Whidbee. “Think of the consequences. If you shoot me, it will be murder.”

Panting, Mr. Whidbee shook his head, his cheeks wobbling. “You are a monster.”

Rick’s expression went dry. “Now who would believe that?”

But the man